My Crooked Family

by James Lincoln Collier

  I walked home holding my new shirt carefully under my arm and went on up the stairs. As I came to the last flight of steps I heard a sudden shout from inside our apartment, and then a bang like a pistol shot. I started to run. I heard Lulu yell and Ma shriek. I slammed the apartment door open, tore in, and dropped the shirt on the daybed. Lulu and Ma were standing in the living room, staring into the kitchen. Lulu had her arms around herself. Ma was shouting, “Get away from the window, William.”

  I pushed past them into the kitchen. Pa was leaning halfway out the window. “Roger,” Ma shouted, “stay out of there.”

  “Pa, what happened?” I yelled.

  Pa pulled his head in and straightened up. Then I saw he was holding a pistol. I didn’t know that he had a gun. “Somebody was out there on the fire escape. I think it was that dirty snake who shot me. I’m going to get him if it’s the last thing I do.”

  I turned, charged back through the living room, out the door and down the stairs, one flight after the next as fast as I could go, swinging around the landings with one hand on the banister knob, shoes clattering on the slate steps, until I hit the stoop. I knew clear enough who’d been on that fire escape. I stood at the top and looked up and down the street. There wasn’t any sign of him in either direction—just the wagons going up and down and ordinary people on the sidewalks. How could he have got down from there that fast? He’d have had to climb down the fire escape to the backyard and go through the basement to the street.

  Then I thought of the roof. I dashed back into the building and ran up the stairs as fast as I could. By the time I hit the fourth floor I was huffing and panting and sweating. I ran on up to the sixth floor, past our door, and then up the last flight to the roof. I flung open the roof door, jumped out onto the roof, and stood there looking around. There was nothing to see but chimneys and water towers, one roof after the next, all the way around the block, with here and there an old chair put out by somebody who liked to come up and catch a breeze on hot days. He’d got away. Most likely he’d jumped along from roof to roof until he got over into the next block. Somewhere along the way he’d find a roof door that was unlocked. He’d go on down and come out on another street.

  I went back down to the apartment. Pa was sitting in his chair, his hands pressed onto his belly. Ma was bent over him, looking at him, and uncorking a whiskey bottle. “I knew you were going to hurt yourself,” she said. “I just knew it.”

  The gun was nowhere to be seen. “What did you want me to do, sit there and let that snake take a shot at me?”

  She got down a glass from the cupboard and poured it half full of whiskey. “Here,” she said, “drink this.” But she raised the glass to her own lips and took a swallow.

  “How am I going to drink it if you’re drinking it?” She took another swallow and handed him the glass.

  Lulu was standing there, still in her new dress. “Who was it, Pa?”

  Pa didn’t answer her but looked at me. “Did you see him?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t see anybody. I went up on the roof, too. There wasn’t anybody up there, either.”

  “Didn’t see anybody? You sure?”

  I wondered why I hadn’t figured it out before. “Are you sure it was the one who shot you?”

  “Yeah,” he said. He took a swallow of whiskey. “I think so. It all happened so quick. I come out of the side door of a saloon into the alley. He was laying for me there. He plugged me and jumped over the alley fence. I didn’t get much of a look at him. But there was some light coming out of the saloon and I saw that red hair and them long legs.”

  I hated to believe it. Why would Circus want to plug Pa? Maybe it wasn’t Circus after all. Maybe Pa got it wrong. Maybe it was another skinny fella with red hair. Circus Penrose wasn’t the only man around who had red hair. “Maybe it wasn’t the same fella on the fire escape, Pa.”

  “How many redheads do you think are out there gunning for me?”

  “Well, it could have been somebody different.”

  He looked at me hard and took a drink of whiskey. “Who do you think you was chasing after just now, Roger?”

  “I didn’t think it was anybody, Pa. I figured if I ran down to the street I might see somebody running away.”

  He went on staring at me. “You sure you don’t have no inkling who was out there on that fire escape? I bet you do.”

  I was feeling red and sweaty. “Why would I have any inkling?”

  He went on giving me a hard look. “I got an idea you know.”

  “Maybe it was that friend of yours,” Lulu said. “He had red hair.”

  Couldn’t she shut her mouth about anything? “No, it couldn’t have been him. I saw him a little while ago in front of Morris Bros.”

  “Who’s that, Roger?” Pa said. “What friend?” He took another swallow of whiskey.

  “Just some fella I know. He isn’t anybody.”

  “He wanted to know how you were, Pa,” Lulu said. “He came along and asked me a lot of questions.”

  He squinted at her. “What’s this? How come you didn’t tell me?”

  “Don’t shout at me, Pa,” she said. “I didn’t do anything. He was a friend of Roger’s.”

  “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” I said. “I wasn’t there. I came along afterwards and she gave me this whole story about talking to some stranger. I told her not to talk to strangers.”

  “That’s right, Lulu,” Ma said. She took the whiskey glass out of Pa’s hand and took a drink from it.

  “Don’t lie, Roger,” Lulu said. “You said he was your friend.”

  “I was wrong. It was the wrong fella. It must have been somebody else, because the fella I meant was over at Morris Bros.”

  Pa didn’t say anything, but looked from one of us to the next, letting us spill it out. I decided to shut up, and we were quiet for a moment. Pa took the glass from Ma and finished off the whiskey. “Who’s this fella you saw at Morris’s?”

  “Dave Podolsky,” I said. Podolsky was a pal of Charley O’Neill’s.

  “It wasn’t Dave Podolsky,” Lulu said. “I know who Dave Podolsky is.”

  “See?” I said. “The fella she was talking to didn’t have anything to do with me. He was just some stranger. I told Lulu she shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

  “I want you to remember that, Lulu,” Ma said.

  Pa looked at me and back at Lulu. Then he handed Ma the glass. “Give me another touch of that,” he said.

  She poured some more whiskey into his glass. “I’m completely unnerved by this whole business,” she said. She got down a glass for herself and filled it half full of whiskey. “William, don’t you think he might just have been an intruder, looking for an apartment where nobody was at home?”

  “No, I don’t think that,” Pa said. He sat there frowning down into his whiskey. For once I was glad he was drinking, for it would confuse his mind. “I got to get out of this place. It’s a trap. It’s driving me crazy.”

  “You’ll never get out of here if you keep jumping around and pulling your stitches,” Ma said.

  “What did you want me to do, sit here while he shot me?”

  Ma took a sip of whiskey. “You’re imagining things, William. I’m sure it was just an intruder.”

  I wished I believed that, but I didn’t. I didn’t believe that Circus shot Pa—it just didn’t fit in with my idea of Circus. He seemed more likely to run away than shoot anybody. But still, it was mighty suspicious: he and Russell had got themselves all involved with our family for some reason. I sure hoped it wasn’t Circus who shot my pa. But it wasn’t for Pa’s sake; it was because he would beat us at something. I didn’t want us to be beat by Circus. Not by Circus Penrose—he wasn’t important enough.

  Pa slid his whiskey glass along the table towards Ma. “Give me another touch of that,” he said. I figured he wanted to make sure he got his share before she drank it up. She poured him about a quarter of a glass. “How much is left in that bottle
?” Pa said.

  She dumped the rest into her glass. “That’s it,” she said.

  Pa reached into his hip pocket, took out a clump of bills, and pulled out a dollar. “Roger, go down to the Eagle and have them fill it up.”

  I went down the stairs, out the door, and onto the street; and I hadn’t gone more than ten paces when Circus stepped out of a doorway in front of me. He didn’t look as neat and shiny as he usually did, for there was a smudge of dirt on his forehead and a big streak of something down one sleeve of his shirt. He grabbed my arm. “Did he recognize me, Rog? Did he say anything about me?”

  “He thinks you’re the fella who shot him before.”

  Circus shook his head hard. “No, sir. It wasn’t me. I never done any such thing. I never shot anybody in my life, even when I was getting shot at. It wasn’t me, Rog. You tell him that.”

  “He figures you climbed up on the fire escape to have another shot at him.”

  He shook his head hard again. “No, sir. Why, that wasn’t it at all. It didn’t have nothing to do with it. I come up there a-looking for you.”

  I never really did trust Penrose a whole lot, because you couldn’t believe half of what he said. But I kind of liked him. He was interesting. Now I didn’t like him anymore. He didn’t seem interesting, either. “Why couldn’t you have just rung our bell?”

  “Well, the thing is, Rog, I was worried on just that point. I just had a feeling your pa thought I shot him. That’s a fact, and you see I was right about it. Now I didn’t shoot him. I wasn’t nowhere near the place when it took place. As it happened, I’d went out to Lakeside Park with one of my little girlies to go a-rowing, and didn’t know nothing about it until after it happened. The girlie’ll tell you. You tell your pa that.”

  I didn’t believe any of it. If Penrose had been up at Lakeside Park, how come he was in the station house around the time Pa got shot? I didn’t know for sure whether Penrose was already there when Pa was shot, or had got picked up by the cops because they were suspicious he’d done it, or what.

  “What did you want to tell me that was so important you had to climb up our fire escape?”

  “That’s it. Russell wants to see you right away. Pronto. You get on over there this instant.”

  “I can’t. I got to get some whiskey for Pa.” Russell was going to try to talk me into the new job. “I can go over later.”

  “Make it as quick as you can. He’s been waiting for an hour already.”

  Why was I supposed to come running whenever Russell sent for me? What rights did he have over me? But I knew I had to go. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  So I went over to the Golden Eagle to get the whiskey. I hadn’t been in there since that time I’d showed Pa up in front of his friends and he dragged me outside and whacked me. For some reason it didn’t worry me to go into the Eagle anymore. I wasn’t impressed by the place the way I was once. It was just a dump. I got the bottle filled and headed on home. Circus wasn’t anywhere in sight, but I figured he was watching me from hiding someplace, so as to make sure I went to see Russell.

  And what was I going to tell Pa about it? Should I tell him what Penrose said—that he was up at Lakeside Park with his girlie when it happened? Why should I tell Pa that when I didn’t believe it myself? I decided the best thing was just to forget about it and not say anything at all.

  So I went up to the apartment and left them the whiskey. Then I told them I was going over to the O’Neills’ and left. I would have gone out, anyway: I didn’t want to sit there watching them get drunk.

  It was getting over towards six o’clock and the streets were filling up with people out for a good time. The sports in their derby hats were lounging on the corners, and a few swells in motor cars drove slowly along, taking in the sights and deciding what they wanted to do.

  I got to the Arcadian Gardens. A few men stood at the bar drinking beer, and on the bandstand a piano player was doodling away to himself, while a violin player unpacked his instrument. A few couples sat at the tables outside; it’d be packed later on, for it was going to be a nice night.

  I had a better idea of how things were done now. I didn’t go straight back to Russell’s office, but told the bartender who I was. He went to the office and then he came back and told me to wait. I stood off to one side so as not to be noticeable. To tell the truth I was feeling kind of sore about things. Pa and Ma were getting drunk and Penrose turned out to be some kind of double-crosser. Why was I supposed to look after everybody and not go crooked? If there was a lot of money to be made out of this thing, why shouldn’t I get in on it? Still, the idea scared me. Maybe it would be better in the long run not to go crooked.

  Finally the door to Russell’s office opened and he stuck his head out. He looked around until he saw me, and then he waved to me. I went on over and into the office. “Should I shut the door?”

  “Yes, shut the door.” He sat down behind his desk. “So. You’ve decided to come in with us.”

  That worried me, for I hadn’t said I would. “I don’t know,” I said.

  He gave me a squinty look. “I told Penrose to tell you to get over here right away if you was coming in, otherwise forget it.”

  “I guess I didn’t understand him right.”

  Russell pursed his lips and puffed out a breath of air. “Look here, Roger, I took a liking to you when you did that first job for me. I said to myself, This here kid is a good boy, smart and could be useful if he got some experience. But that isn’t no use to me if you can’t make up your mind. I got a business to run.”

  Who else ever told me they took a liking to me? Lulu—she liked me all right, I knew that. But that wasn’t the same, for she was just a kid and didn’t know any better. Maybe I ought to go in with Russell. “I can see that,” I said. “You can’t just wait for me to make up my mind.”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he said, “So?”

  If I said no I’d have to go away from there and never come back again. “I wished I knew more about it. I wished I knew what it was.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Come on, Roger,” he said softly. “You know better than that.” He sat there, waiting.

  What difference did it make if I went to the bad, anyway? Who cared? But there was something still on my mind. “I got to know one thing—how come you’re all so interested in my pa?”

  Russell nodded, and stuck out his lower lip, thinking. “All right. I’ll tell you this. He was in with us before. He isn’t anymore. You don’t have to worry about him. He doesn’t know anything about it.”

  I took a deep breath. They didn’t want Pa; they wanted me. That was a strange feeling, but I liked the idea of it. “I’ll do it,” I said.

  “Good boy,” he said. “You’re making the right choice, Roger. You’ll see a nice chunk of dough out of this. The fifty bucks you got for the other one was peanuts.”

  I stood there feeling mighty strange. It was a good feeling, though, for I felt like somebody new—like I’d become a grown-up all of a sudden. I even felt taller. I knew I couldn’t be, but I felt it, anyway. “What do you want me to do?” I was glad to say that.

  “Nothing right now. Come on in Saturday night. Have yourself a beer at the bar. If nobody says nothing to you after a while, go on home.”

  10

  WHEN I GOT HOME PA was still sitting at the kitchen table drinking whiskey. Ma was lying with her face on the table, asleep. Her hand was still holding on to her half-full whiskey glass. The pint bottle was nearly empty. “Is Lulu in bed?” I asked.

  “Your ma sent her in a while back.”

  “I’m going to bed, too.”

  “Hold on a sec,” he said. He lifted up his glass and drank off the whiskey in it. “I wanna talk t’you.”

  “It’s late, Pa. I’m tired.”

  “Siddown.” He jerked his head towards a chair. I sat down and began playing with some used matches lying there, making them into squares and triangles, so as not to have to l
ook at Pa.

  “You bring Russell that letter?”

  I gave him a quick look. His eyelids were drooping down. “Yes, Pa.”

  “Did he read it while you was there?”

  I decided to be careful what I told Pa, even though he was drunk and wouldn’t remember in the morning. I didn’t want to get Russell in trouble with him. “Yes, he read it.”

  “Wha’ he say?”

  “Nothing. He just folded it up and put it in his pocket.”

  Pa stared at me with those droopy eyelids. “He din’ say nothin’ at all?”

  “Just thanks, or something. That’s all.”

  He stared at me some more. Then he said, “Russell’s gotta big job on. You know that?”

  “No,” I said, pushing the burnt matches around on the table. “Why would I know anything about that?”

  He went on staring at me with those droopy eyelids. “Know wha’? I think you know a lotta things.”

  Ma coughed in her sleep. “About what, Pa?” I said.

  “Know wha’, Roger? I think you know tha’ fella who plugged me.”

  I looked at him so as not to seem suspicious. “Pa, how would I know him? I don’t know—”

  His hand shot forward and grabbed hold of my chin. “I think you’re a liar. I think you know somethin’. Who was tha’ fella tha’ was talkin’ to Lulu? You know who he was. Now tell me.”

  I wiggled my chin loose. “How would I know, Pa? I wasn’t there.” The table had got jiggled, and Ma kind of stirred in her sleep and mumbled.

  For a minute Pa sat there looking at me, his eyes blinking, and I could tell he was trying to pull himself together enough to figure things out. Finally he stood up and lurched over to the sink. He ran the cold water and splashed his face with it a couple of times.

  “I got to go to bed, Pa,” I said.

  He picked up a dish towel and dried his face. “Tha’s better,” he said.

  I stood up. “Good-night, Pa.”