A Village Voice

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by Brian Martin

AJ nodded. He was shaking with fear.

  “I want you to remember the pain and to remember that sound if ever you are tempted to be foolish again. Don’t raise a finger to them. Do not even spank the children, let their mother take care of that.”

  Through the pain and fear, AJ began to feel something like relief. He had been paying attention and the old man was talking about him not doing things in the future. That meant that he would live, he would live to get his revenge and see this old bastard dead or in prison for life.

  “Right about now you have figured out that I am not going to kill you. You are thinking about revenge and how you will kill me or send me off to prison. Well, AJ, I am not an easy man to kill and if you did manage it, you would then have to kill all my sons and all our close friends and relations. Honestly AJ, I don’t think the Fountainebleus are up to the task. Now, you might also be thinking about the police. Well, if you head down to the station make sure to ask for Sergeant O’Rourke or maybe Detective Muldoon. When you explain what happened, don’t forget to tell them that you called your wife a shanty Irish bitch before you knocked her tooth out. I am sure they would appreciate that particular detail. Do you follow, AJ? Now look, you did a very bad thing and if I had my way, I would be killing you about now and then I would cut up your body and fix it so that no one would ever find you. You believe me, don’t you AJ?”

  AJ nodded. He was tired now and confused and still worried that this was not over.

  “For some reason, Margaret wants to try and get back with you. I suppose, she thinks it would be best for the kids. Now AJ, we have spoken about the hitting, now we are going to speak about the philandering. I don’t expect that you are going to be faithful, that the leopard will change his spots, but I do expect that you act with the utmost discretion. That you don’t make your infidelity obvious. That you don’t upset her or hurt her in any way. If you can do that, then we might just get along for the sake of the kids. Did I mention that divorce is not an option for us? You could, of course, run away. That would be okay, but you need to pay off this house, sign it over to her and leave her enough money to get by on for at least a year. If you do that, I won’t come looking for you. If you just run off, you know my background and you know that I have friends everywhere, friends that will find you for an old comrade and you know what happens then.”

  AJ didn’t nod this time. His head was swimming and he was no longer paying attention.

  Dan took the toothpick and rammed under the finger nail of another finger on the left hand.

  AJ leaped up with pain and almost broke through the tape.

  Dan put his hand on AJ’s shoulder to sit him back down.

  “Alright AJ, alright. I just needed to be sure that you were focused and that you heard me. Are we all clear now?”

  AJ nodded.

  “Right then, in a moment or two I am going to remove enough of this tape that you can set yourself free. Stay sitting in the chair for a minute, don’t get up too soon and don’t come to the front of the house for a few minutes. Put the hands in ice and give Margaret a call next weekend and we’ll take it from there.”

  Dan went to the hall and told Jim to start the car and get ready to pull away fast. He went back to kitchen to pull some of the tape off AJ.

  “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but really AJ, when you think about this later you will realize that you are really a very lucky man.”

  Dan left the house quickly and jumped into car.

  “Home, son, and don’t spare the horses.”

  “Jesus Pop, what did you do?”

  “Like I said, I just put the fear of God in him. I think Margaret is going to get back with him and we need to keep an eye on things. Maybe it will work out, but I doubt it.”

  They did not say much more on the ride back to the city. Jim had heard from the older Irishmen of his acquaintance that his dad was a hard man, but he was never quite sure what they meant until now. His dad had just taken care of some pretty serious business and he was calm enough on the ride back to complain about the traffic and the way some people drove. When they got back to the apartment, Dan took out the parcel,

  “Listen Jim, I’m not going to tell you your business, but I would prefer if you found another line of work. I’m sure you won’t listen to me so I want you to keep this safe. You may need it someday.”

  “Pop, listen, I have a…”

  “Don’t say it, son, just take this one. It’s always been lucky for our family. Take it and then go and get a passport and when you get it make sure it stays current. I also want you to take enough money for a flight to London and keep it somewhere safe. If things go wrong for you, head for London. There’s a pub in Kilburn called the Palace. Go there and tell them who you are and that you are looking for a start; that means a job, son, and a place to kip, that’s a place to stay. If they ask you why you have come, tell them that you needed a change of scenery. Remember that, ‘a change of scenery’, they will understand and set you up with something and a place to stay. You can contact our people in Ireland after a while, but don’t go there first. Do you understand all that? I want to see that passport within a month, do you hear me now? Bring it to the apartment and show me, do you hear me now?”

  He asked Jim to repeat the area of London and the name of the pub and what he was to say. After Jim had repeated everything to his satisfaction, Dan gave him a hug and got out of the car. He turned back and said, “Thanks again, son, remember all that now and take good care of that thing; it’s loaded.”

  AJ was a man of his word. He got back together with Margaret and they lived together for a year in what seemed to be harmony. Then he did everyone a favor and died of a massive heart attack. Margaret married her brother-in-law’s younger brother Mike (also a fireman) about a year later and they have lived happily ever since. They have a little girl Ann and Mike is a great dad to all the kids. No one mentions Lord Fauntleroy, and the Fountainebleus, not surprisingly, don’t keep in contact with the Flanagans.

  Chapter Ten

  New York, 1949

  Sean Flanagan had not considered himself to be a romantic man or even someone who believed in romance. Relations between a man and a woman were primarily based on physical attraction. People got married and when the kids came and the passion was spent, when the bloom went off the rose as the Irish would say, people settled into the job of being parents and hoped to God that the person they had settled down with would not get on their nerves too much or turn out to be a drunk or a spendthrift or a cheat. Women worried about husbands who couldn’t provide or who turned violent, men worried about women who couldn’t cope with the kids or became nags and asked too many questions if their men stayed out a little late. For the most part, in Sean’s day, working class Catholics did not get divorced. Unhappy couples (which seemed to be most of the couples he knew) soldiered on for the sake of the children. Or at least that is how it seemed to Sean.

  Sean’s mother had died when he was still a young boy and his father had to work to support the family. Sean was raised by his older sister and kind neighbors who looked in on them from time to time. He was never mistreated and he always felt that his family loved him, but somehow in the crowded apartment, he had grown up lonely. He had the idea that lonely was the norm, you come into this world alone and you go out alone. No room for romance, you sow your wild oats with the girls who were willing and then you try to find a respectable girl to have kids with and then you hope she doesn’t get so fat you can’t look at her or become such a pain in the ass you have to spend all your time in a bar to escape her nagging. That’s just the way things were. He had it all figured out until he met Kathleen.

  He had been on his way home from the movies and he decided to stop into the Village drug store for a milkshake. When he got to the counter, he saw his older sister, Kate, and a group of her friends. He had planned to make a run for it, but they had seen him and were coming over. Now he would have to listen to them get on him about it being Saturday nig
ht and how was it that he did not have a date? His sister was there with her best friend and a younger girl. His sister, never one to mince words, got right to the point.

  “Sean, this is Kathleen, Joan’s younger sister, Kathleen this is Sean, my handsome but morose younger brother. Sean, Kathleen here is pretty, but also the funniest girl I have ever met, if anyone can get a laugh out of you, it’s her. Now, Sean, you are going to buy Kathleen a milkshake and you guys are going to hang out here for a while. Joan and I have business to attend to, we don’t need a third wheel, no offense Kathleen.”

  It all happened so fast he did not have any time to object. Kathleen was indeed a pretty girl, fair Irish complexion, but with brown hair, brown eyes and a killer smile. So he asked her to please sit down and to forgive his sister for being so rude. She sat down and they talked for a few minutes and he bought her the milkshake she had been promised. He asked if he could walk her home and before they got to her apartment she had him laughing. She had a gift for seeing the humor in everyday life and this amazing gift for impersonations. When she told a story involving his sister, she not only had her voice perfect, but she had all gestures and mannerisms perfect. And it was not done in a bitchy way at all, just really genuinely funny. When he left her, all he could think about was seeing her again.

  For their first date, he suggested the movies and she agreed but insisted that he call over to her apartment and meet her folks. Sean asked around and found out that Kathleen’s dad worked for Catholic Charities in New York. He was very religious and had the reputation of being very strict with his family, especially the daughters. He was more than a little nervous when he called to Kathleen’s apartment. It didn’t help when Kathleen’s sister Joan opened the door with a big smile on her face and announced loudly in a stage Irish accent that Sean Flanagan was at the door and that he had come a courtin’! He was invited in by Kathleen’s parents and invited to have a seat. Kathleen’s father was friendly enough. He explained to his wife who the Flanagans were and that he knew Billy’s father from the Holy Name Society at St. Joseph’s. Kathleen’s mother, a very devout Catholic from a very respectable family, gave a nod of approval. Before the interrogation could proceed much further, Kathleen came into the living room, greeted him and said that they must be off. Her dad confirmed the name of the theatre, the name of the movie, and the time they would be back. He shook hands with Sean, a good firm grip and wished them a good evening. Kathleen’s sister Joan could not resist a parting shot at her sister. “No sitting in the back row now and don’t be getting up to any mischief when they dim the lights. I’ll be expecting a complete run down on this movie when you get back, no missing scenes. The proprieties must be observed at all times.”

  Kathleen turned abruptly and was about to reply when her mother intervened. “Go on you two and have a good time, don’t mind that one, she gets a bit peevish if she’s not the center of attention.” When they got to the theatre, they did indeed avoid the back row and he decided to be a perfect gentleman on this their first date. On the way out of the theatre, he did take her hand for the walk home and she did not resist. On the way back to her apartment, they passed a group of guys he knew from school. They made the usual remarks meant to embarrass a guy that was lucky enough to actually have a date on a Saturday night. When he felt they had gone a bit too far, he turned and told them to go “f themselves.” Kathleen let go of his hand. “Hey, don’t worry about them, they’re just a bunch of jerks, they didn’t mean anything.”

  “I’m not worried about them,” she replied.

  “What then, what, did I do something wrong?”

  “I thought you would show more respect for me, that’s all.”

  Sean saw a look of disappointment on her face and it was like someone had taken a knife to his heart.

  He apologized profusely and never cursed in her presence again.

  They continued to date, got married and had kids and it kept getting better and better. He literally loved her more and more each day. She was warm, funny, passionate, and loving. She made him feel like he was the center of her universe and she was certainly the center of his. In all the time they were married, they never even had a serious argument. He couldn’t bear for her to be mad at him and he could never stay mad at her. He loved his two boys and his family, but she was the light of his life and then God turned off the switch. He was glad that his kids were raised and that they had gotten to know their mother before she died; Sean only had vague memories of his own. He always thought that he and Kathleen would grow old together and that if one of them had to go first it would be him. No such luck, she was gone and he was left alone. His own boys, his brothers and sisters were good about checking in and they tried to make sure that he was not too lonely. They made the classic mistake of thinking that a person would not be lonely as long as other people were around. He tried drinking but it didn’t really help him. He spent more and more time in the bars but that was just to get out of the apartment. His sister had tried to console him by suggesting that he was still a young man and that he might… but she stopped before she had finished the sentence when she saw the anger in his eyes.

  Sean was in the Lion’s Head one evening, having a quiet drink and dwelling on his now favorite topic, what as the best way for him to commit suicide. He didn’t want to do anything that would be too upsetting for the boys. If they could just find him in bed passed away, peacefully. He was no good to anyone now and no good to himself. God had turned out the light and broken the switch. He was about to order another drink when he saw a familiar face approach. Tim Dolan was a friend from NORAID. He had last seen Tim at Kathleen’s funeral.

  “Sean, how are you doing?”

  “Tim, what brings you to the Village, can I get you a drink?”

  “Well, Sean, I was hoping to run into you, actually.”

  Tim asked if he could have a word on the QT (quiet) and they went for a walk around Waverly Place. Tim explained what was needed of Sean and asked if they could count on him. Sean asked a few questions regarding the technical details and also asked if they were going to take care of the right people. Tim said that for security reasons they were not going to make any payments on these shipments. The fewer people that knew, the better the chance that the shipments would get through. Tim understood that the Italians might be upset when they found out, but they could always make amends later on. The idea of being needed for something important appealed to Sean. If the Italians found out what they were doing, they would probably arrange an accident for him in order to send a message. An accidental death, being needed, dying for something worthwhile, it all seemed very attractive. He agreed on the spot.

  Chapter Eleven

  New York, 1987

  After what seemed like no time at all, Brian arrived at the back entrance to Morgenstern’s. He took a lot of deep breaths. He could not go in looking too nervous, just nervous enough to be respectful. The building was dark, all the garment workers had headed back to their tenement apartments. What a miserable life these poor women led. Working their fingers to the bone in this shithole all day. If they were any way good looking at all they were probably abused by Morgenstern, then home to their roach infested tenements in the evening to cook and clean and try and get some sleep before starting all over again. Hoping that if they catch a break, their kids will be smart and get a good job and break the cycle, or that they win the lottery or the numbers and get enough money to buy a small business, a liquor store or a small grocery store, something, anything they could call their own, where they were the boss. Then they could tell Morgenstern and all the bosses to go fuck themselves. Brian remembered something he had read about the great mass of men leading lives of quiet desperation. Well, he was sure that the women who worked in this place could tell the author of those lines a thing or two about women’s desperation.

  He tried the back door and it was open as promised. He went in; the place smelled of sweat and cheap textile fabric. It was pitch dark but he saw a light com
ing from the office at the back of the shop floor. He passed row after row of sewing and cutting machines, bins of garments and racks of textiles. From what he could gather, Morgenstern made uniforms and scrubs used in hospitals. You would think that the customers could have imported this kind of stuff from the Far East. He was out in Vegas once and got talking to a guy in the catering business. He told Brian that all the seafood for the casino they were in came from a company in Chicago. At first this seemed a bit odd; you have to imagine there are closer places to get seafood but considering the history out in Vegas he supposed it made sense.

  Morgenstern had a big bay window overlooking the shop floor so he could keep an eye on his workers and, no doubt, have fantasies about his next victim. The window had blinds for when he required privacy. The blinds were up now and as Brian came closer to the office he could see Morgenstern behind his desk and another figure seated with his back to him. Jim had described Tarantino, about five-ten, skinny build, long face, receding hair. He couldn’t be sure, but this could be the guy. Thankfully, it didn’t look like Morgenstern had brought anyone else. Last chance to back out, last chance to run away from this madness, Brian thought. He thought of his father and he thought of his ancestors and that warm place by the fireside that they would have for him. He knocked gently on the door before going in.

  Morgenstern pointed at an empty chair beside Tarantino.

  “No need for introductions, just get to the point, alright? We are both busy men.”

  “Well, sir,” Brian said, addressing himself to Tarantino, “if I were the relationship manager for this company, I think I could do a really good job for you. I think I could save you money and you could rely on my discretion regarding the corporate structure. I have some ideas around that that you might find useful.”

  “Let’s talk about the structure thing first and how you came by that information,” Morgenstern replied. Tarantino just continued to stare at him. He supposed that Tarantino figured it would be intimidating and he was right.

 

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