The two cops had brought out Little Joe in handcuffs and
went to put him in the patrol car. Joe the plumber came tearing out of the door
in his stained wifebeater and work pants. Barefoot and grimy he was the picture
of surprised indignation.
“What the fuck are you doing Flynn? Get your fuckin hands offa my
kid. Who the fuck do you think you are you stoopid Mick Fuck?” My Da stepped
between them. “Calm down Joe. You don’t want to get locked up too. Let’s find
out what it is all about.” He positioned him between Joe and the cops.
“So Paddy what’s the story here?” “I don’t have a choice
here Mike. The kid was peeping in the window of this lady here. He was on the roof
and she claims she was taking a bath and heard someone walking around. We caught him on the fire escape. So she
called in and we found the kid on the roof. Caught him red handed so to speak.”
“Is that true Joey” my Da asked. He was still struggling to
hold back Joe the Plumber who was wrapped in the arms of Nicky’s Dad who was keeping
him from a felony charge.
“No it’s a lie. I just went on the roof to get the ball that
went up there. I swear. Besides why would I want to look at a scrawny ugly cunt
like this who-a” sputtered the Junior jerkoff. He had all the humility of his
Dad and none of his charm. His father had no charm at all.
That brought a shriek from Mrs. Golden who was standing in
the doorway. She looked wet and fresh from the bath. No matter how much she
scrubbed she still seemed to be a dirty girl. She was a tiny scrawny woman with
bad skin that looked like it had been abused by both sunlight and drink. A
soiled bathrobe enveloped her as she shouted at the crowd.
“Fuck you……you miserable fucking shit. Your pervert son was
looking at me in the bathtub and I am pressing charges. I demand you take him
to jail or I will sue you and the city and every other one of you useless loser
men.” Her face was red and a cord stood out in her neck as she flecked spittle
at the cops. "I am a fuckin law professor and I know every fuckin judge in this city. Don't fuck with me. Take this fucker into custody or I will have your fuckin badges." Her son Jacob hid behind me. Fear and embarrassment warred for
pride of place. We all closed around him in an instinctive unarticulated
gesture of support. Everybody hated his Mom. Everybody. Even him.
“WHAT THE FUCK! YOU ARE LISTENING TO THIS DIPPY CUNT!” Joe
the Plumber was losing it. “She had to be drunk. Look at that skinny fuckin who-a. Who the
fuck would want to look at her? You might as well look at a fuckin broomstick for fucks sake.”
Flynn shook his head. “You see what I am dealing with here Mike. I have to take the kid into the house.” He lowered his voice and
whispered. “I won’t process him until you have a chance to come down to talk
with your cousin. He will have to sign off on it anyway.” “Fair enough Paddy I will
cool this down.” My Da leaned in and spoke in a low voice "I will see tonight at the Knights and I will straighten you out." "Thanks Mike."
My Da turned around and grabbed Joe the Plumber by one arm
and Nicky’s Dad took the other. They picked him up and half carried him in a
bums rush away from the ruckus.
“Hold on Joe." They walked a little bit down the block as we followed listening. " Paddy is not going to book him right off the
back. We can go down and talk to my cousin. We might be able to straighten all
this out.” Joe stopped struggling for a second. He went rigid and then calmed
right down. “So the fix is in. Thanks Mikey. I will owe you one. You fix this
and no rent this month.” “Ah well we will see about that Joe. Let’s just try to
keep your kid out of the hoosegow if we can. No go upstairs and get changed.
You can come with me to the cop shop. Oh and bring some cash. I have a feeling
we might need it.” “Like that is it. Fuck. You Mick bastards are all greedy
fucks. Forget about what I said about the free rent.” “I forgot about it as
soon as you said it Joe. Just go and get changed. Let me tell my wife where we
are going and then we will walk down to Union St.” “Fuck that. We will take the
car.”
“Holy shit” said Frankie Bags. “He is going to move the
Country Squire from the spot in front of building. This is fucking serious.” We
watched as the cops put Little Joe in the squad car and drove away down the
street. “Of course it is serious numbnuts” lisped Bonnie. She had recently lost
a tooth and all her “s” were overly sibilant if you please. “They are taking
him to the pokey for fooks sake.”
“Jacoooob” shouted Mrs. Golden from the top of her stoop. “Get
away from those little bastards and come inside. NOW!” “Sorry guys” said little
Jake as he walked warily into his area gate and into his house. His mother
pushed him when he got to the top of the steps and slammed the door behind her.
It brought a burst of indignation from the mothers who were watching the
show. She was called a whore in several
different dialects.
“Shut up One-ball when I want a coozes opinion I would
ask you” said Frankie. Bonnie saw red. I thought she was going to haul off and
sock him one. Joey Bags and I interposed ourselves betweeen them. As usual we had to make peace. “I wonder what my Da is going to
do.” “You know what he is going to do” said Joey Bags in his quiet serious way.
He was the opposite of his brother in just about every way. “He is gonna get
your cousin the detective to fix it. That’s how it works. You know that.”
My Da and Joe the plumber came out of the house. Da
looked around and saw me. He beckoned me over and said “Get in the car Mikey.
You are going to come with us.”
Holy shit on a shingle. I get to ride in the Country
Squire. And go to the precinct. My friends all looked at me in disbelief. Not a
little awe. I just looked at them with an Aw shit expression. What was this all
about?
I got in the back seat of the station wagon and me Da
shut the door very gently. He got in the shotgun seat and Joe pulled away from
the curb in a rush scattering on lookers and passerby’s alike. Da turned around
and looked at me over the vinyl bench seat. “Listen Mikey this is important.
When we get to the cops we are going to talk to Cousin Mick. You are going to
tell him that you asked Joey to go on the roof to get the ball. Do you
understand?” “I understand but that would be a lie. He never talks to us. In
fact he is always beating us up and chasing us.” “I’ll fix the little shit” growled
Joe the Plumber from behind the wheel. “He will never do any shit like that
again if I have to break his fuckin head. Doncha worry kid. I owe you one.” “Listen
Mikey your Cousin Mick will believe you. Or at least use it as an excuse to
spring Little Joe so he doesn’t get a record. A sex rap will dog him for the
rest of his life. So a little white lie will be just enough to make it look
good.” “That miserable shit. Wait until I get my fuckin hands on him. He won’t
be fuckin peeping the fuck.” Joe was squeezing the steering wheel so hard it
was a wonder that it didn’t break off. “Wait till you get home Joe” Da said. “Let’s
get him out of jug first.”
Joe pulled up Union and found a spot right across the
street. We got out of the car and walked
toward the precinct. Cousin Mick was standing on the stoop talking to his
partner Ryan. They turned and looked at us as we trooped up the four short steps to the doorway.
“Well look at what we have her. The family has come to
visit. Michael. And young Michael. To what do I owe this honor” said Cousin
Mick. He smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes. His partner didn’t say anything. He just stood there. Short fat and foreboding. He cracked his scarred knuckles. He scared
me.
“Need to converse a bit Mick. This is my landlord Joe
Grimaldi. I think you have his son inside. I would like to talk to you about
it.” “I see” said Cousin Mick. “I would imagine so. Well come on let’s go
inside and stop making a spectacle of ourselves here on the street. Ryan you
stay here and keep an eye on those boyo’s across the street.”
I looked across the street. Oh shit. Joey Gallo and Bobby
B were standing there. Fuck. This is bad. He saw me with my cousin going into
the cop shop. I am in a lot of trouble.
4 comments:
Nice deflection away from his moral crisis over lying to the cops and toward the shit storm that might rain down on him.
I think the moral crisis is that his Da is asking him to lie not that he is lying to the cops.
Everybody lies to the cops.
And most everybody lies to their doctors. Something that I intellectually understand, but still find baffling.
I never lied to the cops. Honest. Since they were always looking for my brother, I didn't have to.
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