by R. O. Barton
“How so?”
“Mr. Tumanello, no disrespect to you sir, but, your nephew is confused.”
“Confused?”
“Yes, sir. His issue is with Mr. Bench, not me. It seems Mr. Bench is too hard for your nephew to find, so I believe he is taking his frustrations out on me. I was just doing my job. In fact, if I didn’t do my job, I wouldn’t be here talking to you.”
“I see,” he said.
I believed him.
“I have a family, sir, I love my family. Eddie sent people to my home to do me harm. He had people try to kill me in my car.”
“What?” Eddie said quickly from the corner. “I didn’t do that.”
Ignoring him for the moment, I continued, “I don’t know what interest you have here in Nashville and it is of no concern of mine, but with all respect, Mr. Tumanello, I cannot and will not live my life in fear that Eddie will hurt my family.”
I was trying to make sure it didn’t sound like a threat.
“I can understand that, Mr. Tucker.”
I must have done good.
I said, “Thank you, sir. Do you have any suggestions?”
“Sonny has told me you are a man of honor, Mr. Tucker.”
“I try.”
“Yes, as do I,” he replied with a sigh.
It must be harder for him.
“Mr. Tucker, if I give you my word of honor that my nephew will make no further attempts to harm you or yours, would that suffice?”
“Of course, Mr. Tumanello,” I replied without hesitation. Thinking about it wouldn’t earn me any Brownie points.
“Please, call me Frankie.”
Oh goodie, I have a new friend.
“Of course, Frankie, and I’m just Tucker,” I said, grinning at Eddie, who looked back with disbelief.
“I believe you are more than just anything,” he said.
“Thank you, sir, you are too kind.” Schmooze, schmooze.
“Tucker, would you be so kind as to hand the phone to Eddie?”
“My pleasure, sir.”
I covered the mouthpiece, held the phone out to Eddie and said, “Frankie wants to talk to you.”
Eddie got up and walked over to me, looking like he was going to tear up.
He took the phone, “It’s me, Uncle Frankie.”
For the next minute, he listened without uttering a word. I couldn’t hear Frankie Tumanello’s voice at all, so I assumed he wasn’t raising his voice.
After talking to him, I’d bet the softer he spoke, the more dangerous he was. I also had the impression he was a well-educated man, kind of reminded me of Armando Miranda. I wondered what had become of the Miranda brothers.
Finally Eddie spoke, “But, Uncle Frankie, Pauly’s laying on the floor and he’s really fucked up, needs to go to the hospital, his teeth . . . yes sir, sorry . . . yes sir. Yes sir.
This went on for another minute or so, plenty of yes sir’s, and I’m sorry’s.
While Eddie was studying his shoes, I put my .45 back in it’s holster.
He finally looked up, handed the phone to me and said, “He wants to talk to you again.”
I took the phone and said, “Yes?”
“Mr. Tucker, Sonny didn’t apprise me of Pauly’s condition. Did he know?”
Uh-oh, back to Mr. again.
“I told him.”
“I see. Mr. Tucker, Pauly is also a relative (that must be why they call it ‘The Family’), and he was just doing what he was told. I hope you won’t take it as personal.”
“I don’t. That’s why he’s still alive.”
“Yes, of course.”
I could hear him breathing.
Just when I thought I had angered him and he was going to hang up on me without another word, he says, “Tucker, how would you like to go to work for me?”
Uh-oh, a change-up.
“Excuse me?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice.
He made a sound I was sure was a laugh.
“Eddie is my little brother’s boy. My brother was killed when Eddie was only 5. It was his wish that I keep Eddie out of the business. I have done my best. We changed his name, moved him down to Nashville and set him up in a legitimate business. It seems he is reluctant to be legitimate. I’m not talking about that Bench business. Mr. Bench not only had an agreement with my nephew, but me as well. Rest assured, Mr. Bench will hear from me sooner or later. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not as long as I’m not working for him at the time,” I said, feeling all rested and assured.
“Yes, of course. Now, getting back to business. I would like to hire you to keep an eye on Eddie for me.”
For Eddie’s benefit, I said, “You want me to keep an eye on Eddie?”
Eddie rolled his eyes, shook his head and groaned.
Frankie Tumanello said, “Yes. Just to make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble. Keep me apprised of his standing in the community.”
“I have a client at this time, Mr. Tumanello.” I was getting the hang of this Mr. thing, to use it when talking business.
“You couldn’t have more than one client?”
“This is going to take me out of town for an undetermined time.”
“Yes, of course. I see.”
“But, when I come back, it would be my pleasure to drop in on Eddie from time to time to see how he is doing. As a favor to you,” I said, showing Eddie my teeth.
Frankie Tumanello’s laugh seized the irony of the situation.
“Tucker, I don’t get much humor in my life these days. Thank you. I may take you up on that. And, if you ever come to the northeast, it would be my honor and pleasure to entertain you.”
“I would be delighted,” I said. I wondered if he had some kind of talent, like telling jokes, or playing the guitar. I doubted it.
A loud groaning gurgle came from Pauly.
Frankie Tumanello asked, “What’s that?”
“Pauly,” I said.
“How bad is he?”
“He’s going to need an oral surgeon, an orthopedic surgeon, and maybe a plastic surgeon, and maybe a chest surgeon,” I answered truthfully.
“Pauly is a very capable man, Mr. Tucker. Just what did you do to him?”
“ I never learned to play fair.”
“Of course. May I please speak to my nephew again, so he can get Pauly to the hospital? He’s my cousin Sylvia’s boy.”
“Yes, sir. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Tucker, and please call me when you return from your business. I think having you look in on Eddie might be a good idea.”
So did I.
“Here’s Eddie, Mr. Tumanello.”
“Frankie,” he said.
“Frankie,” I said.
Just when I thought I was getting the hang of the Mr. thing.
I held out the phone to Eddie.
“Yes sir,” started and continued for another minute. Eddie ended the conversation with something different, “Yes, sir, Uncle Frankie.”
He put the phone down on the desk, looked at me and said, “I’m supposed to apologize to you and say it won’t happen again. Give you my word and all that.”
I crossed my arms and waited.
He walked over to Pauly, who was starting to make a lot more noise, looked down at him and said, “God damn it! We’ve got to get him to the hospital. Give me the phone, I’ll call an ambulance.”
I picked the phone up and held it as I crossed my arms again, waiting.
He stared at me for a full ten seconds, then said, “Okay, okay, I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
“You don’t sound sincere,” I said.
“Well, that’s all you’re getting.”
“What about your word?”
He looked down at Pauly. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. He said, “You’ve got my word.”
Now, that sounded sincere.
I tossed him the phone.
While he was punching in 911, there was a knock on the door, a
long with, “Hey, boss, open up, it’s me, Tony.”
Just who I wanted to talk to next.
“Where’s the button for the door, Eddie?”
“You can open it from the inside with the knob. What are you going to do?” he asked, looking down at Pauly.
“Talk to Anthony. Don’t worry, I’ll play fair.”
While he was giving 911 the address, I walked over and opened the door.
The music blasted by me and Tony stood there with his mouth open, leaning on one crutch.
Tony was about five-ten, 185 pounds, short thinning sandy hair, no facial scars, and looked to be in his late twenties. He was what women might consider cute. But his dark eyes were too close together for me.
I stayed close to him, so he couldn’t see past me, and I backed up as he hobbled through the door.
“Close the door, Tony,” I said, after he was in the room.
He closed the door, muting the music, and when he turned around, I’d stepped aside, giving him a good view of the room.
Pauly, in all his gore, was completely visible.
“What happened to Pauly?” Tony asked, to no one in general.
I had to give him credit, he was calm. Maybe it was shock.
“He slipped and busted his lip,” I said.
Now Tony was looking at Boss, calmly waiting for an answer. Okay, not shock. He was just mean.
“Tucker did it. I’ve called an ambulance. Go get some of the boys, so we can get him out of here when the ambulance gets here.”
“No,” I said.
“Whataya mean, no?”
What a dumbass.
“You’d better not move him until the EMT’s get here, his chest may not be in one piece. And, I want to have a little chat with gimpy here.”
Tony turned to face me and said, “You’re going to pay for this, motherfucker.”
I walked over to him and did something I’ve always wanted to do. I kicked his crutch out from under him and said, “No, I’m not.”
He was tittering, but standing. For the first time, I noticed his sport jacket was thicker around his left forearm, probably a bandage. Must be Razor’s handy work.
I got in his face and spoke softly, “Take a good look at Pauly over there. See his face? That happened because he had a potty mouth. My name is Tucker, you can call me Mr. Tucker. If I ever see you within 5 miles of my home, I’ll kill you and figure it out later. Understand?”
He started to turn his head to look at Eddie, who was still standing by Pauly. I quickly reached out and gave his bandaged arm an unkindly squeeze.
“Tony, don’t look at Eddie, look at me.”
It hurt, but he didn’t make a sound as he looked back at me.
“Did you understand what I said?”
Through clenched teeth he said, “I understand.”
I let go of his arm and said, “Good. By the way, my dog’s in better shape than you.”
After gently patting his bandage, I eased the toe of my boot under his crutch and kicked it up so he could grab it.
“Now, go take a good look at Pauly,” I said, after he had the crutch under him.
He gimped over and looked down at Pauly who was now wheezing pink bubbles. He probably had a punctured lung.
“Jesus, Mother Mary, and Joseph,” he said, as he crossed himself like a good Catholic.
By now Pauly’s mouth was hard to discern. It looked more like a big red hole with loose white corn floating around.
“Tony, in a few days, when Pauly can understand you, you can tell him my name. It’s Mr. Tucker. He was having a hard time with that tonight.”
Looking at Eddie, I said, “Earlier you said you didn’t have anyone try and kill me in my car. Is that the truth? Don’t lie to me. It will not make me as congenial as I have been tonight.”
Without hesitation, he said, “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I swear, I don’t.”
I believed him and I didn’t want to. I hate algebra, all those x’s and unknown factors.
I looked back at Anthony and saw the bewilderment in his face. This whole situation was flying over his head like a missed shot at a mallard.
“Anthony, stop thinking, you’re going to hurt yourself. Your boss will tell you all about it.”
I looked hard at Eddie, at least I was trying to, and said, “Eddie, make sure the next time I see you, it’s because I want to.”
I turned my back on them, opened the door and walked out into Satan’s heavenly hideaway.
As I walked through the hordes of sexually frustrated men and women, I felt good, light, I was walking on a cloud. I felt alive. In tune with the universe. I could see everything occurring around me. The connectiveness of the human race to nature. I walked in a straight line to the door, and people parted like Moses parting the waters. I held no judgment of the people in this place, they were right where they’re supposed to be, just like I was. Everything’s In Divine Order . . . EIDO.
I walked out of the Men’s Room into a light snow. It snowed that night, after Margie was killed. I used to like snow…before.
Chapter 44
By the time I was seated in my truck, letting it warm up, my spiritual high was waning.
I read somewhere God wants us to live in the present. To live every moment like we were children. Like seeing everything for the first time, full of joy, being overwhelmed by the wonders of life.
For me, it’s much easier to live in the present when my life is in danger. Where any thought other than what is happening at this very moment, could end my life.
But, it wasn’t always so. I used to be able to make love to her.
Now, the wonders of life are so much easier for me to see when I have just survived a close call. The closer to death, the longer the awe lasts.
By the time the truck started blowing warm air, I was back on the ground again, the night not quite as sharp, the snowflakes not as white, the resolution of life’s picture dulling. The missing of her a black bulge in my chest that held tears that wouldn’t come.
My phone chirped at me. I picked it up and said, “Yeah,” not looking at the number because I knew I wouldn’t be able to see it through the wooden mask I had unexpectantly adorned.
“I see you’re still in one piece,” Spain drawled.
“Yeah.”
“I heard there’s an ambulance on the way to The Men’s Room.”
“Yeah.”
“You okay?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’ve been sitting there for a few minutes. I was beginning to worry about you.”
I looked around. Double parked out on Dickerson Road, was Spain’s unmarked.
“How long you been there?” I asked.
“Since midnight.”
I looked at the clock on the dash, it was only 12:27 a.m.
I hadn’t given it much thought, but I would have figured it for later.
“You worried about me?”
“Not since I saw you walk out unassisted.”
“Thanks for the backup.”
“Who’s the meat wagon for?”
“Guy named Pauly.”
“Pauly Manfredy?”
“We weren’t properly introduced. He seemed to be Eddie’s right-hand man.”
“What did you do, Tucker?”
“I hurt him,” I said, as I pulled my truck out onto Dickerson Road and drove past Spain’s car.
We looked at each other as I passed him.
“How bad?”
“It would be good for the ambulance to get here soon,” I said.
“Was it necessary?”
“He was one of the guys that paid me a visit this morning, I mean yesterday morning.” I wasn’t used to these night owl hours.
“Sounds necessary.”
“Spain, do me a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“If Pauly dies, don’t come get me until after 9:00 or 10:00 in the morning. It’s been a long day, and I’m going to the office to
crash and burn.”
“Pauly’s a tough bastard, he’ll probably live, unfortunately. What about Eddie Tuma, you resolve anything?”
“Yeah, he won’t be bothering me anymore.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll tell you about it later. Thanks again, and goodbye.”
I slapped my phone shut and set it on the console.
The caffeine had evidently worn off. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open.
I didn’t have to worry about my dogs. Before I left the house that morning, I’d made arrangements for my closest neighbor’s son to ride his four-wheeler over to my place and feed them. I often paid him to check on them when I was going to be in Nashville overnight or out of town. I was missing Tuesday. Maybe I’d take her to Houston with me.
The phone rang again. In a reflex I picked it up. It was Sonny Medica.
“Tucker? What the hell did you and Frankie talk about? He called and said you were going to work for us when you get back from some business trip.”
“That’s not going to happen, Sonny. No offense, but I don’t knowingly work for wise guys. I can’t afford it, personally or professionally.”
“No offense taken, Tucker. But why’d you tell him you would look in on Eddie? You did say that, right?”
“Yeah, Sonny. I told him I’d do it as a favor. You know, keep your enemies closer.”
Sonny’s sense of humor was warped and after he stopped laughing, he said, “For some reason the old man likes you. Says to me to make sure you come up and have a meet with him.”
“Go figure,” I said, too tired for wit.
“Yeah, go figure.”
“Sonny, it’s been a long day and I’m beat. Thanks for the help tonight. Without you it could’ve turned out differently.”
“Hey Tucker!” he said loudly.
“Yeah.”
“Fuggedabowtit.”
The phone went dead and I turned mine off.
I just wanted to get in the bed and curl up. I missed . . . Tuesday.
Chapter 45
I was at the edge of a precipice, again. Waiting to take that step into the dark unknown. Not knowing how deep it was or what it contained. I did however, know what it didn’t contain. A safety net. Just like I liked it.
The phone was ringing, but I couldn’t find it. It was dark, I was groping around on all fours. Just as I started sliding around in something slick, the sun instantly blared.
