Knuckledragger

by Rusty Barnes

  “Candy, this Tito. You heard the news, yeah?”

  “I just did, yeah.”

  “Otis wants you to come in and protect his woman and kid.”

  “You got to be fucking kidding me,” I said.

  “For reals, Candy. Ain’t nobody else to take care of things.”

  “No way, Tito. No fucking way.”

  “You’re in it to win it, like me,” Tito said. “You have to do it.”

  “Fuck,” I said. “I can’t. All the fingers on my hand are broke, motherfucker. You helped break them.”

  “You got no choice like I got no choice.” I heard him breathing heavily on the other end, and finally blow out a cloud. “Look. Hang at the playground. I’ll get Jimmy and Calvin to do for Nina and Miguel. That means you’re the go-to for news. You’ll have to collect this week, too.”

  “I—” Tito cut me off.

  “I can take you off Nina,” Tito said. “You have to pick up slack, though.”

  “I understand,” I said. “Thanks for doing me a favor.”

  “It’s not really a favor, Candy. You gonna have both your fucked-up hands full.”

  “By the way, Jimmy and Calvin abandoned my shit,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know,” Tito said. “I told them to. Now get to the playground.” Dead air. I thumbed the phone off and started to breathe right again. I explained to Rosie what I could. She didn’t react well.

  “So you’re off protecting some other bitch. What about me?”

  “I guess it’s good you’re working.”

  “Fuck,” she said. “I’m going to hang out with you for a day at least. I took off work, you better fucking entertain me.”

  “That’ll be fun,” I said.

  CHAPTER 18

  THE SUN ON SHIRLEY STREET the next day was hot, and foot traffic was out the fucking world. Fat women in bathing suits and old leathery Wops in Speedos dominated the pavilions and bandstands, while small families and daycare centers buried their kid’s diapers in the sand and flicked their cigarettes into the ocean. I was glad to be up in the relative sanity of the park, near the bodegas and the Cambodian market and the bakery where I could get a box of almond cookies when the munchies hit. Rosie chose to wear short-shorts and a half-shirt over a bikini (in case she needed to walk down and cool off, I guess). She drew a great deal of attention, let’s say. As soon as I shut the metal playground gate Tito was on me.

  “Yo, got to take off, Candy.”

  “So soon?” I said. “I thought we’d chat.”

  “Fuck off,” Tito said. “Nina and the little shit are over on the other side.”

  “Great,” I said.

  “One thing,” Tito said. “The boss knows you’re doing this and doesn’t like it. But he understands the shape we’re in, so it’s cool. Just—don’t fuck up.”

  “Yeah, I got it.” I motioned to Rosie. “I have help.” Tito, being the way he is, lost no time checking her out.

  “Fine ass,” Tito said. “Be careful. If the little people need money, here you go.” He handed me a thick roll of hundreds and twenties in no particular order. I just stuffed it into my pocket. “Don’t fuck up, Candy,” he said, then disappeared at a quick walk down the street toward the beach.

  “Well, here we are,” I said, dropping myself down on the bench. Nina and Miguel were on the other side, Nina with sunglasses on, so I couldn’t judge what she was thinking. I waved, and Miguel waved back.

  “Fuck this heat,” Rosie said. “I’m going up the street to Tedeschi’s. You want water or candy or something?”

  “You could get me some Rolos,” I said. “Maybe a couple liters of water.” I gave her money out of my pocket, not out of Tito’s stash, and she walked like she knew everybody looked her way, at her sway. I checked out the rest of the playground. Three or four kids plus a mother in a hijab played at the corner of the lot adjacent to the bakery where a couple vaguely Arabic spoke one to the other in their low-pitched and guttural language. Then Nina and Miguel, who was hitting a plastic horse with a whiffle bat, over and over. That boy was going to grow up with some problems. Otherwise, the only occupant I couldn’t gauge was a kid about the age of Jimmy and Calvin, who had left my apartment unprotected. Mid-twenties, maybe. I decided he would have to show his colors soon or I would have to escort him out. A police cruiser drove by slowly, but that’s the way everyone drove on this street, so nothing to worry about, I hoped.

  I had the shade of a small tree, which helped with the sweating, but I really wanted to be anywhere else. Finally, the young kid gathered up his balls and came over to talk to me.

  “What do you need, kid?” I said.

  “My mother’s in bad shape. She got the diabetes and she shooting heroin, too.”

  “Why should I care?”

  “I’m Otis’s nephew Kadeem,” he said nervously. “I’m taking care of her, but I can’t miss no more of my summer classes or I won’t be on track to graduate.”

  “Where you go to school?” I said.

  “Salem State.”

  “Good school,” I said, handing him two hundred bucks. He stood speechless. “Go on now. Get the fuck away from me.” He practically ran out of the park to a bicycle on the rack across the street.

  Rosie came back then and sat beside me. I popped the top on a water bottle and let the wetness slide down my throat.

  “Already started with the Lord’s work, Irish?” Rosie said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. Across the way, Nina had Miguel by the front of his shirt and lecturing to him in very soft Spanish. I could only catch every other word, but it didn’t strike me as Mexican Spanish. With her light skin, though, it could have been Portuguese they were speaking. “Can you hear what they’re saying?”

  Rosie turned her head toward the conversation. “I don’t know. It’s Spanish, but not Dominican. I don’t know which country she’s from.”

  “I guess she’s not the world’s best mother,” I said as I continued to watch.

  “You a bitch, now, Irish?”

  “What?” I said.

  “Only bitches can judge mothers. You ain’t got the right parts.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. I reached around to the small of my back where I’d stuck my .357. I didn’t know what to expect.

  “Here’s your candy, by the way.” Rosie handed me some Rolos. I popped three of them into my mouth at the same time. “Pig,” she said. “Look out, now.” I heard the shrill squeal of a kid and saw Miguel running over to me, Nina close behind.

  “Hi, Jason,” Nina said nervously.

  “This is Rosie,” I said.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Rosie said. Nina didn’t say anything else.

  “Muscleman, make a muscle,” Miguel said.

  “Not today,” I said

  “Can you slide me some cash for diapers?” Nina said.

  “Sure thing,” I said. I dug three hundreds out of my pocket and gave them to her.

  “Where’s Tito?” Miguel said.

  “I guess he had things to do in Boston,” I said.

  “Thanks so much, Jason,” Nina said. “We won’t bother you.” Nina took Miguel by the hand and walked him forcibly away.

  “Jason, huh?” Rosie said.

  “Can we just not do this right now?”

  “Oh sure, Jason.” She waited. “Us Latina babes are just waiting for you to marry us and give us green cards.”

  “OK, I get it.” I felt increasingly paranoid sitting in a kid’s park with a .357 and probably ten grand in my pocket.

  “How are you supposed to know who’s legit and who’s not?” Rosie said.

  “I either know them or can sniff them out.”

  “Just like that?” she said.

  “Pretty much. I don’t have anything but my instincts. Otis or Tito might not have given it out but they expect that, that’s why they give me so much money.”

  “So are you wasting their money?”

  “I don’t think so,�
�� I said.

  “Like I said, doing the Lord’s work.”

  “I’m more worried about what’s coming up in the week. If I have to collect I’m going to have these splints off my hand. Diovisalvo especially. I can’t be weak.”

  “You’re not weak, you’re fucking broken,” she said.

  “Got to pay the bills,” I said. “I’ll manage.”

  “They’re going to scrape you off the street in shitty little pieces, Irish.”

  “Not any time soon,” I said. I stripped the medical tape that held the splints on. Thanks be that they hadn’t thought to break my thumb. Maybe the thumb is too hard to break. I threw the pieces of splint into the garbage and tried to flex my hand. First three fingers weren’t cooperating, but the pinkie seemed almost healed. I’d have to buy a batting glove or something to wear for a couple weeks, which would give the fingers some support, anyway.

  “How long you think they’re going to hold Otis?” Rosie said.

  “Probably as long as it takes for him to get a lawyer. It won’t be long.”

  “You think the charges will trickle down to you?”

  “I don’t think so. The cops just drove by. They could get me whenever they want to.”

  Rosie stood up, surprising me. “I’m not going to lie around here in the sun waiting for you to get picked up. Call me, Irish.” She put her sunglasses on and walked toward the T. I didn’t say anything, but I watched her all the way down the swell of the street and into the station. I breathed out a little breath of thanks. I wanted her around, but not if she was going to ask questions. I looked across the way at Nina. She had her glasses on so I couldn’t judge from her expression, but her full lips curled into a smile as she let Miguel out from under her arms to run toward me. This was not going to end well.

  CHAPTER 19

  TITO STOPPED BY AROUND seven when I had a good sunburn working on my shoulders and neck and legs. I’d have to use the aloe all over tonight.

  “So how much?” Tito asked.

  “Maybe a grand, maybe less,” I said. I put my hand in my pocket, but he shrugged me off.

  “Keep it,” he said. “You’re back here tomorrow at ten.”

  “All right,” I said. “I’m hanging in the shade tomorrow, just to let you know.”

  “With Nina?” Tito said.

  “Not on purpose,” I said.

  “Sit in your car and crank the air,” Tito said.

  “Oh, that’s not going to look suspicious,” I said.

  “If you got to have it to do your job,” Tito said, “then do it. Don’t bitch at me.”

  “Y’all got dark skin, I don’t.”

  “Good you noticed,” Tito said. “See you in the morning.” I watched Tito walk up the street and get into his Lexus, another sign of how much higher in the ranking I had to get before I got the good stuff. I looked back. Nina and Miguel stood beside me.

  “We’re hungry,” Miguel said. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

  “All right,” I said. “A man’s got to eat. Peter’s SuperBeef ok with you?”

  “The best,” Nina said, the corners of her mouth crinkling. There was a bad smell I couldn’t place, acrid and strange. Then I knew. Meth. I counted my blessings that Rosie wasn’t here, and I took Miguel’s hand and Nina fell in beside me.

  Peter’s sat at the corner of a slow-light intersection where there were two bus stops, so it got a lot of action for a Greek guy and a couple of his swarthy sons. I got a chicken parm, Nina got an Italian which she cut in half for Miguel. The old Greek looked at me with a mixture of disgust and fear. It struck me that Otis had probably come here with Nina and Miguel, and he thought I was horning in. Which I wasn’t, at least not yet. He probably questioned my sanity.

  “So how you think this will all go?” Nina asked around a bite of salami.

  “This jail thing?” I said. “I’m sure it’ll all work out.” Miguel had disappeared into the corner playing among the unused child seats and high chairs.

  “I don’t know,” Nina said. “They don’t bring you in on a RICO charge unless they’ve got solid evidence.”

  “Otis is smart,” I said, realizing as I said it even Nina didn’t believe it.

  “I’m sure he’ll be out soon,” Nina said. “But ultimately, I think he’s going down.”

  “I’m glad you don’t say that around the kid.”

  “He doesn’t understand.”

  “I bet he understands more than you think,” I said.

  “I thought of going to the cops many times,” Nina said.

  “Shut your mouth,” I said. “That kind of shit talk could get us both killed.”

  “I’m just saying I’m not happy,” she said.

  “OK, fuck this,” I said. I stood up, dug into my pocket and gave her five hundreds.

  “What’s this for?” she said. I leaned over the table.

  “For you to shut up about that. I don’t ever want to hear that shit again.”

  “Are you going to tell him?” she asked. “He’ll—”

  “I’m not going to tell him. But I never—”

  “I understand.” Her voice shook. “Fuck you, Candy.”

  “That’s what I needed to hear,” I said, and left her behind and Miguel open-mouthed in the corner.

  “Muscleman, where you going?” he said. I banged the door open with my elbow and began the short walk to my car. Three men separated from a smallish group in front of the subway entrance and I picked up the pace a little without them noticing. I had parked on Winthrop Ave behind the Shipwreck Lounge, in the midst of their picnic tables and concrete benches. Two of the men split off and disappeared, while one followed me to my car. He was a lanky kid with huge hands and a cocky strut.

  “Yo man, my battery’s dead. You gimme a jump?”

  “Not today, not any day,” I said. “Back off.”

  “No man, for real. I need a jump.” His friends appeared on the other side of the car, one of them with a tire tool in his hand. I didn’t know how many of them it would take to get me down, but I knew now how many they were going to use, as two more men appeared from the back of the Lounge.

  Number one came close enough for me to smell him, and I decided I would not take another beating. I pulled the .357 from behind my back and pointed it at Number one. The two on the other side stopped, as did the two who came from the Lounge.

  “Don’t start something you’re not gonna finish,” one of the guys by the rear of the car spoke up.

  “That’s a good idea,” I said, and whipped the pistol across Number one’s temple. He went down hard and cracked his head on the concrete. Tire tool took that opportunity to smash the rear window once, twice, and then a third time.

  “Tell Otis Diovisalvo is not paying any more money. Especially now.”

  “You’re going to have to talk to Tito about that, not me. I’m a collector, not the brains,” I said.

  “Ain’t that the truth?” Tire tool said. “After the way you took out Dayquan, that showed no class.”

  “If you were that close to me, it would’ve been you.”

  “Sure,” he said. Tire tool came up to the front of the car and joined the other two.

  “All right,” I said. “Message delivered.”

  “Better remember,” Tire tool said. This time he smashed the windshield once, then twice. At this noise, people started coming out of the back door of the bar.

  “OK. I’m going home,” I said. I got in and laid the gun beside me on the seat and broke out the rest of the glass with my fist, wrapped around a jacket. The three men backed off just far enough for me to get out of the lot. I didn’t know if the car was worth what it would take to fix it, but then I remembered that insurance would cover the replacement for free. It would take only my time, and I wasn’t sure how much of that I had left. Just as I rounded the corner, I could see a transit police cruiser turn into the bar lot I’d just left. They had to know where I lived. I took the road at a reasonable rate, trying to cut down on the d
raft, made a left by Toretta’s Bakery, then turned into my apartment, the top half of a house. Rosie’s car was gone, and I admit a little bit of anger. I hoped she’d be there. But she had every right, given the circumstances.

  I brought out a broom and dustpan and tried to get most of the glass out. I’d need to vacuum to get the tiny pieces, but I figured a half-assed job would have to do until I got the new windows. My neighbor Sal’s door opened and then banged shut.

  “How you doing, Candy?” he said.

  “Eh. I could be better,” I said.

  “You catch the guys that did it?”

  “Is it that obvious?” I said.

  “Pretty much. A rock might take out one window, but not both.”

  “I hear that.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on it for ya,” Sal said, turning on his garden hose.

  “Appreciate it,” I said.

  I finished off and took the broom back upstairs. I hoped it wouldn’t rain. Rosie left a message on the dry erase board, but her handwriting’s awful, so I just ignored it, cracked a beer and brought it into the shower with me, grimacing as the water hit my sunburnt skin. I’d be sore for a couple days at this rate. I had aloe, but it’s hard to apply the stuff yourself. The History Channel was on, and it would have to be my company for the rest of the night. I finished my shower beer and pushed a button on my cell to see how Rosie was doing, but the call went straight to voicemail.

  CHAPTER 20

  THE CHANNEL WAS RUNNING the shows about aliens one after the other again and I couldn’t deal, so I switched it to ESPN, which ran the same Sportscenter over and over till midnight. My cell phone buzzed but I didn’t recognize the number, so I pushed the speakerphone.

  “This is Candy,” I said.

  “Jason? This is Nina.”

  “Yeah? What do you want?” Inwardly I shuddered. She had the sense of a dumb dog.

  “I just want to talk,” Nina said.

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you beyond what I need to.”

  “But you ate dinner with us—” Nina said.

  “That was a mistake.”