by Paddy Kelly
“I like him. Kinda reminds me of Lou Costello.” They both laughed. “Please don’t tell him I said that!”
Doc glanced at his watch. “We’d better get over there.”
The walk to the theatre was only five minutes but the wait was unsually long. They took their place in line, and as it slowly moved forward, Nikki held Doc’s arm and spoke to him.
“So, it’s our first date and we’re going to church,” she said.
“What?”
“Church, we’re going to church. When I was a little girl we only went to the movies on Sunday afternoon. I always felt like going to the movies was a lot like going to church.” “
“How so?”
The cinema is the new house of worship.” She had Doc’s attention as she suddenly assumed a documentarian’s voice. “The congregation gathers. They pay to go in and hear the sermon, only they do it at the door instead of later. The holy Eucharist of popcorn, kept in its sacred pyx, is doled out to the faithful as they enter to hear the blessed words of the high priests and priestesses upon the pulpit of the silver screen.”
Doc listened and realised that for the first time in two years, he was relaxed in the company of a woman. “You’re wired to the moon, ya know that?” Doc wasn’t sure if she was always prone to flights of fancy. He hoped she was. “And another thing. What’s with the vocabulary? What the hell is a pyx?”
“It’s the place where the Eucharist is kept. I used to be a librarian. Then I was a secretary for a lawyer. Did you know that there are over eighty thousand words in the English language? And did you further know that the average person only uses forty thousand of them?”
“I’ll try to watch my language, Mrs Webster.”
The couple in front of them were having an argument, and Nikki looked at the ticket booth and began to laugh. She pointed to the small shade pulled down in the window which read, Sold Out.
“The Lido on 8th Street?” Doc offered.
“Lead the way, benevolent bellwether.”
“Remind me to never to do a crossword with you.”
Ten minutes later, the couple had checked the movie times at the Lido and went into a nearby coffee shop to pass the twenty-five minutes till show time. Doc again placed the order and sat down.
“So, fair’s fair,” Nikki offered.
“How do you mean?”
“You told me about your dad and it was very polite of you not to ask who Bill was, so… “
“He’s your ex-husband.”
“You know?”
“I do now.” Doc felt bad that he surprised her. “But you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Nikki smled and sat back. “Bill saw the war coming as soon as the fighting started in China. He’d give me daily reports and predictions.”
“Were they accurate?”
“Too accurate. That’s when I started getting scared. I knew he was caught up in it. There was no way I’d pull him back. Finally, one day he sent me flowers at work and took me out to dinner. I don’t remember a thing. The restaurant, what we ate. I felt like I was eating with a condemned man. It was all I could do to keep from running out of the room screaming. I didn’t hear half of what he said that night, something about talking to some flying buddies.”
She had to look away as she continued. “One of them started up a volunteer fighter wing and got it hired out to the Chinese government.”
“The Flying Tigers?”
“Yeah. I knew I’d never see him again.” Nikki was beginning to tell the story in short bursts, as if to get it over with as soon as possible. Doc reached across the table and took her by the hand.
“You should be proud, damn proud. Those guys are genuine heroes. Saved a lotta lives.”
“They said he died a hero, whatever the hell that means. Doesn’t make it any easier, ya know?”
“I’m sure you had some wonderful experiences together.”
“Yeah, experience.” Sarcasm tainted her voice. “That’s what ya get when you don’t get what you want.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“We should change the subject,” Doc suggested. There was an uncomfortable pause and Doc had nightmares of a Norma Birnbaum replay. Nikki saw her pain in his eyes and broke the silence.
“How ’bout that Stan ‘The Man’musical, huh? Hitting a 315 so far!” Nikki tried to smile as a tear rolled down her cheek. Doc had to think of something fast.
“DiMaggio’s gonna give him a run for his money,” was the best he could do.
“OH MY GAWD!” The words booming from the front of the small eatery pierced Doc’s ears like steel needles. The entire restaurant turned in unison to see the overweight middle-aged woman with the dress two sizes too small, dripping cheap costume jewellery like an over-decorated Christmas tree.
“NIKKI! HOW AWE YOU? It’s so good ta see ya!” Shopping bags crumpled and plastic beads rattled as she waddled up the aisle. Despite the emotional poignancy of the last five minutes, Doc had to keep from laughing out loud.
Making a bee-line for the table, Blanch dropped the shopping bags without regard to blocking the aisle and smothered Nikki in over-animated hugs and kisses.
“I been worried about you, sweetheart! How ya been? And hoose dis guy?” Her over-painted lips smiled and looked like a bad Valentine’s Day advertisement as she spoke in rapid bursts.
“Hello, Blanch. This is Doc McKeown, a friend of mine. Doc, this is Blanch, my mother-in… Bill’s mom.” Jesus! Doc thought. This must be a test!
“Hello, Blanch, nice to make your acquaintance.” Doc was on his best behaviour.
“An Irish Doctor! Yaw doin’ aw rite fer yaself!” Blanch said to Nikki via the entire restaurant. Doc sighed and showed better sense than to try and get a word in. “I been wonderin’what you been up to! When ya gonna come up fer dinner? Bring the Doctor!”
“I will, Blanch, I promise.”
“We will, Blanch, promise, cross our hearts, hope ta die,” Doc added. Nikki was feeling relief from her emotional anxiety. It felt good to be with Doc.
“Be sure you do! Don’t make me come and find youse two!” Blanch threatened, with one of the sausages emanating from the palm of her hand.
“Night, Blanch.”
Blanch started to waddle away. Nikki and Doc were exchanging smiles when Blanch once again appeared in front of them.
“And you tell me if you need me ta baby-sit! She’s my grandchild too, ya know!”
“I will, Blanch. I promise.” Doc made the Scout’s honour sign and Nikki laughed into her hand as Blanch went off to argue with a man in a suit, tripping over shopping bags at the front door.
“That was Hurricane Blanch.”
“She marked her territory.” Doc pointed to her cheek and Nikki took out her compact, looked at the lipstick marks on her face in embarrassment and began to clean them off.
“Hadn’t we better get to the show?” Nikki asked.
“No.”
“No? No because you don’t want to, no because it’s not time, or no because you’re havin’ too much fun?”
“Yes.”
“C’mon, quit horsin’ around.”
“Yes, because I don’t want to. Yes, I‘m having a good time and yes, because it’s not time, it’s past time.”
“What do you mean, ‘past time’?”
“Aside from Blanch, I’ve got some more bad news. It’s twenty after. We missed the start of the show.”
Nikki shook her head and smiled. “I guess we’ll just have to keep talkin’ then. Won’t we?”
“I still owe you a dinner. We could go and eat.”
“I’m full. Next time we’ll go straight to dinner, then the movie.” Next time? That’s encouraging. The words involuntarily jumped into Doc’s head.
“But I sure would enjoy an egg cream right about now,” Nikki suggested.
Nearly an hour later, the couple were walking back towards Nikki’s house on Mercer Street. The evening had turned cold but not intolerable. Neith
er of the two noticed the outside temperature, anyway.
“Was it always you and Louie?”
“No. Not always.” Doc’s reluctance to discuss details was emphasised by his silence.
“Well? Was there anybody else?”
“No baby, you’re the first!”
“Hmm, doesn’t want to talk about it. Must be a juicy story there!”
Thirty seconds earlier, Doc had been determined not to talk about his ex-partner. However, Nikki’s infectious smile melted his barriers like a laser beam.
“Sammon. There was a fella named Sammon.”
“Gut! Ve are makink progress, Herr McKeowen. But I zinc ve vill need to keep talkink and perrrhaps anozzer session.”
“You’re not saving anything for the second date, are you?” Doc became infected with her smile.
“Don’t get over-optimistic, cowboy!”
“Sammon came in with me about three years ago. I didn’t know it but he had a backer. Some joker from upstate who had money to invest. They came to an arrangement and about a month later he took off with all the top clients.”
“Well, they couldn’t have been very good clients if they all just up and left.”
“Well, they didn’t, not really. He told them I wasn’t doing so good and that he did most of the work anyway so he was ‘striking out on his own’. The few who were reluctant to leave he told I’d slept with a client’s daughter and that it was only a matter of time before the lawsuit started up.”
“Nice guy! Can you do anything about it?”
“Yeah, but I’d wind up in jail.”
“I mean a lawsuit!”
“It’s an option, but takes loads a dough. Five, maybe ten grand for a sure win. The more you have, the better your chances of coming out on top. Messed up the business pretty good.”
“Jeez, Doc, I’m sorry I asked.”
“No problem. No more questions about the past, okay?”
“Okay. What’s Louie’s story?”
“If you’re not a cop, you missed a helluva an opportunity, you know that?”
“Sorry, Doc. Just naturally nosy, I guess. We don’t have to talk about anything else.”
After a short walk, they arrived at Nikki’s apartment and Doc walked her to the front door. Neither one wanted the evening to end.
“I had a great time tonight. I can’t remember when I enjoyed not having dinner and not seeing a movie so much.” Nikki spoke first. Doc remained mesmerised by her crystal blue eyes.
“Do your eyes hurt?”
“No. Why?”
“Cause they’re killin’me!”
Nikki leaned her head towards Doc and closed her eyes. Doc was on cue. He thought how sweet her lips tasted as he felt the heat of her body through her clothes.
Nikki was lost in the moment as well, but was suddenly snapped out of the thrill of the experience when she began to hiccup. First one, then two or three at a time. She was embarrassed and knew she had to make it a short goodbye.
“I’d like to see… hic… you again… hic… Doc.” She spoke rapidly, trying to make her words dodge the hiccups.
“You would, huh?”
“Yes, if that’s okay with you… hic… investigator.” Doc turned without answering and walked down the stairs, ball cap cocked back, hands in his pockets.
“Don’t get over-optimistic, cowgirl,” he said over his shoulder. Nikki stood in the doorway and watched Doc walk down the sidewalk. Halfway down the block, without turning around, Doc called back to Nikki.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I know you will!” Nikki called back to Doc. She saw his shoulders shake as he laughed.
Nikki went through the door into the vestibule and Mrs Paluso opened her window to look down on the porch and investigate the racket.
Walking up Mercer Street, Doc was pleased by his change of fortune in the last few weeks. He felt like he could stand on his own two feet again and take on anything they could throw at him without wavering. Good thing too, because he was about to get his chance.
Turning the corner on Prince Street, he saw a man in a dress suit and a heavy overcoat approaching him head-on. In a co-ordinated movement, a second man, similarly dressed, moved towards Doc from between two parked cars. The second man obviously came from the other side of the street and was reaching into his breast pocket. Watching both men at the same time, Doc stopped where he was and adjusted his ball cap. Stopping just in front of him, both men produced bifold identity wallets with strange looking badges. Ones Doc had never seen before.
“You Doc McKeowen?” The one directly in front of him was the taller of the two and it was he who spoke first.
“My friends call me Doc. You can call me Mr McKeowen.”
The two men gave no further clue as to who they were and it was much too dark to read the photo cards the men flashed.
“We’d like to talk to you, about an item that belongs to us.”
“If you know who I am, then you know where I work. Office hours are nine to five. Call my secretary, she’ll try’n squeeze you in.”
Doc pushed past the tall one and was fully prepared for his clumsy attempt at restraint. As he put his hand on Doc’s left shoulder, Doc grabbed his hand and spun towards his assailant, pushing his arm upwards to expose his back. By the time the man’s knees hit the pavement, Doc had administered three or four kidney punches. When he released the former tough guy to engage his second assailant, the limp body fell forward and smashed face-first into the pavement, blood flowing from his nose and mouth.
Doc back-pedalled and pushed over a row of garbage cans to slow the second opponent. However, he was not prepared for the third man emerging from the shadows of the alley to his left.
“Oh good! Now we can play bridge.” The words had no sooner left Doc’s mouth when he saw the third man reaching into his breast pocket. Probably not for his ID, either, Doc figured.
Picking up a trash can lid, Doc was able to ward off several punches from the second man. As the man rubbed his sore fist, Doc connected with several square hits to the face, using the garbage can lid. The man slumped to the ground and McKeowen bear-hugged him in case the third man beat him to the draw and fired.
On the way down, Doc struggled with the second man’s shoulder holster and managed to withdraw the .38 special. Rolling onto his right side, he emptied three rounds at the third man, deliberately missing him, but saving the last three rounds in case he didn’t get the message. He did. Doc watched as the man ran serpentine up Prince Street, holding his hat down, and vanished onto West Broadway.
Doc lay there in between the two unconscious men, breathing heavily, eyes wide open and unaware that his face was bleeding from the cheek and forehead. After what felt like an eternity, he lowered the pistol and rolled onto his back, holding his head.
God-damned perfect ending to a perfect evening. Jesus! Nikki, tell me you don’t have any brothers! As he rolled over and rose to his knees he realised he was in pain. He grabbed his right shoulder in agony and watched as blood dripped from his cheek and jaw onto the guy’s overcoat.
Walking on his knees to mystery man number two, Doc emptied the guy’s pockets. He did the same for the other would-be attacker and came up with a second .38 special, two Treasury agent ID’s, two sets of house and car keys and over $1200 in cash.
Christ! I’m in the wrong racket! Doc was pleased with his night’s wages. He stuffed his pockets with the items, then took a handkerchief from one of the unconscious men and held it to his bleeding cheek. Picking up his ball cap, Doc stood up and began to limp away, until he glanced into the alley and smiled at some discarded wine bottles on the ground.
Afew minutes later, after crossing West Broadway, Doc ran into a cop walking the night beat.
“Excuse me, officer. I think there’s something strange going on in the alley over on Prince Street, just before Wooster. You might wanna take a look.”
“What happened to your face, pal?” the officer asked sympatheti
cally.
“Cut myself shaving.”
McKeowen continued towards Christopher Street, and when the cop found the two men a short time later, locked in a passionate embrace, smelling of cheap wine and both holding empty wine bottles, he immediately went to the police call box on the corner and rang for the Paddy Wagon.
By the time Doc reached Christopher Street, Harry was cleaning up and was surprised to see him come through the front door.
“Evenin’, Doc. How was your… man, oh man! She musta said no!”
Doc still held the hanky to his cheek trying to stop the bleeding. With a wince, he reached into his pocket and produced the newly acquired bank roll. Peeling away a fifty and laying it on the counter, he asked Harry if Redbone was still around.
“Yeah, I think so. He was just locking up about ten minutes ago.”
“Do me a favour, will ya? Have him run around to Jimmy’s and get me a bottle of Jameson’s. You guys split the change. Deal?”
Harry looked down at the fifty. “Hell, Doc! Deal!”
Doc went upstairs and fifteen minutes later Harry, Redbone and Doc were in the office having a late night baptism.
“Well, you gonna tell us what happened or do we have ta drink it outta ya?” Harry finally broached the subject of Doc’s injuries. McKeowen didn’t answer but reached into his pockets and emptied them onto the desk. Redbone and Harry stared in disbelief.
“Damn, Doc! I thought you was the muggee, not the mugger!” Redbone was the first to give his impression. Harry leaned forward and looked more closely. He looked at Doc, then picked a fifty out of the roll crumpled it up, tore it in half and then held it up to the light. As everyone watched, he pulled a cigarette lighter out of his pocket and lit the note on fire and watched it burn.
“Damn, Harry! That mustard gas shit finally gettin’ ta you, man?” Redbone had only seen pictures of fifty dollar bills.
“Doc, that fifty you give me come outta this bank roll?” Harry asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I think your credit just ran out at Jimmy’s.”
“What the hell you talkin’ about?”
