The couple walked faster.
‘I was just hoping … Excuse me. Hey I’m talking to you!’
Then he saw another couple coming towards him. ‘Oh God, I hope you can help me! I need to get to Chicago! It’s my wife! The priest has already read her the last rites! I just hope I can make it in time! What do you say? Can you help me out?’
‘Beat it, hustler,’ said the man without looking at him.
‘Hustler! Did you hear that? I tell him my wife’s dying and he calls me a hustler. How insensitive can you get?’ Then he took a wallet from his pocket and pounced on another couple. ‘Excuse me, miss. This is a picture of my wife and she’s about to give birth. All I need is twenty dollars to get me to Washington.’
‘Sorry,’ said the woman pushing past him.
‘You’re not that sorry though, are you! Not sorry enough to spare a few bucks!’ Then he noticed me and the Rat watching him. ‘Look at all these goddamn tourists. They must be forking out two hundred dollars a night for a hotel. Two hundred dollars a night for a lousy bed. And what difference does it make when you’re asleep? Suckers every one of them. Then there’re the shows, the expensive drinks and the “I love you present” he has to buy her to reassure her that their marriage is still good. And you’d think after all they’ve spent they wouldn’t mind helping a guy out, but oh no.’
‘He’s great!’ said the Rat. ‘You think he’ll let us hang out with him?’
‘Why would we want to—’
‘Hey, buddy. Can we hang out with you?’
The hustler looked us up and down. ‘Depends,’ he said. ‘You ever scammed anyone?’
‘No we—’
‘All the time,’ said the Rat.
The hustler gave us another look. ‘Forget about it, you’re too young.’
Then, spotting a well-dressed couple, he switched character. ‘I hate to bother you folks, but it’s my wife!’
‘Sorry, buddy. No handouts today,’ said the man, who was tall and broad.
The hustler concentrated on the woman, she had diamonds on her fingers. ‘Miss, my wife means so much to me!’
The woman, who was a little overweight, slowed down. ‘Well, what seems to be the trouble?’
‘Come on, Mildred. He’s a hustler,’ said the man.
‘No, honestly,’ said the hustler. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before.’
The man took Mildred by the arm and went to walk away. Then, who decides to step forward?
‘She’s dying! Mommy is dying!’
Like our day hadn’t been hectic enough! Or maybe she thought it lacked excitement! Maybe that demon guy threatening to cut her throat wasn’t exciting enough.
‘Oh, you poor thing!’ said Mildred.
‘Mildred!’ shouted the man.
The hustler got on to the Rat’s part straight away. ‘Don’t worry, dear! Daddy will get the money somehow!’
I was absolutely bewildered. They’d turned into a double act and they’d only just met!
‘I know a scam when I see one!’ said the man.
‘George, how can you be so insensitive? Is this the sort of man I’m going to marry?’ The woman opened her handbag and gave the Rat a twenty. ‘Here you go. I hope this helps.’
‘Thank you, miss,’ said the Rat. And then she curtsied. Do you believe that? She curtsied. I don’t know what movie she thought she was acting from.
‘Mildred! Can’t you see what they are?’
The woman shot him a bad look and walked away. George chased after her and took her by the arm. They argued.
‘If she can’t see what he is, she definitely can’t see what we are,’ said the hustler.
Then George came back. ‘Here you go, buddy!’ He said loud enough so Mildred could hear him. But when he handed the hustler a twenty he spoke softly. ‘You’re scum! You know that?’
‘I know,’ said the hustler. ‘But you’re not marrying her for her good looks, are you, George? And isn’t she a lot older than you?’
George looked enraged, but he turned and walked away.
‘You see that, kids? The man’s wearing a Rolex that she probably bought him, and he’s crying like a baby over a few bucks.’ Then the hustler snapped his fingers at the Rat. ‘OK, kid. Hand it over.’
The Rat handed the hustler the twenty and he gave her back a ten. The Rat looked at the money and then at the hustler.
‘Look, kid, I have expenses. And I have experience. I have expenses and experience. What have you got?’
‘Are you kidding? Have you seen this face?’ said the Rat pointing at her face. ‘This face could make more money than you’ve earned all month! Now you give me back that twenty or I’m walking!’
‘There’s no need for attitude. Tommy Mattolla always looks after his partners.’
‘Well, look after me now, Tommy, and give me back that twenty!’
‘What’s your name, kid?’
‘Marie Claire.’
‘Forget about that twenty, Marie Claire. There’s a lotta suckers out tonight. You wanna make some real money?’
‘Shewer, Tommy! But don’t try to hustle me! I have friends downtown!’
‘What’s this? Threats? I’m being threatened here?’
‘I’m just making it clear, that’s all!’
‘You’ve made it crystal. Now, let’s go to work.’
The Rat went to follow him, but I grabbed her by the arm. ‘You’re not hanging out with him. You don’t even know the guy.’
‘It’s OK, Bob. I’m pretty sure he has good spirit.’
‘I don’t care what sort of spirit he’s got! You’re not hanging out with him!’
The Rat pushed my arm away. ‘I wanna have some fun! If you don’t like it go back to the den and I’ll catch you later!’ And with that, she followed the hustler.
She knew I wouldn’t leave her. She was just being a selfish little bitch! I felt like slapping her face. But I didn’t. I followed on behind like a dope.
And then it began. The Rat and the hustler hit Broadway with Oscar-winning performances that involved everything from train wrecks to robberies, from stock market collapses to stolen tickets. There were dying mothers, muggers and sickness in Seattle. There were enough deaths to fill a morgue and enough births to fill a maternity ward.
Yet the hustler really did seem like he had a good spirit. I mean, I wouldn’t trust him with a dime, but he was tough and streetwise and somehow I felt we were safe with him. It was even fun to watch him perform with Rat as his little poisonous protégée. But it didn’t last. A rivalry developed between them and they started to give each other the needle.
‘Stop overacting,’ said the hustler. I knew that wouldn’t go down well but I could see his point. She looked like she was acting the part of the Little Match Girl standing barefoot in the snow. She was even shivering. Who shivers in this heat? She looked like a ten-year-old junkie. Maybe that’s why the suckers were giving her so much money. But criticizing the Rat’s performance in front of the suckers was not good business. But I said nothing.
‘I happen to be part of the Luxton drama class, Tommy! Appointed by Ms Mountshaft herself. Don’t tell me how to act.’
‘I did a summer at Juilliard,’ said Tommy. ‘I don’t even know where Luxton is. And who the hell is Ms Mountshaft?’
The Rat came over to me. ‘I’m making more than him and he’s jealous.’
Then Tommy came over. ‘She’s a good earner, your sister, but she’s got a lot to learn. Tell her to calm down, Bob.’
I was hoping they’d call it a night after that, but they didn’t. They angled their way down Broadway like a vicious version of Fagin and the Artful Dodger. This can’t be good, I thought. And it wasn’t. It all came to a head on the corner of 47th and Broadway when the moon was at its highest.
‘I just need to get back to Miami,’ said Tommy, talking to a group of tourists, ‘to see her for the last time!’
‘Is she dying?’ asked one of them.
&n
bsp; ‘She’s already dead,’ said the Rat. ‘But he’ll make her rise again if you give him enough money.’
Tommy’s scowl darkened. ‘She wouldn’t need to die if you were any good!’
‘If I was any good!’ shouted the Rat. ‘If you were any good, she wouldn’t have dumped you for the clown! And he wasn’t even that funny!’
‘That was you! You ruined a perfectly good marriage!’ Then he turned to the tourists. ‘She has mental problems.’
‘Of course I have mental problems!’ shouted the Rat. ‘Who wouldn’t with a father like you?’
A crowd soon gathered.
‘She’s been kicked out of so many schools,’ said Tommy. ‘Schools for wayward children at that!’
‘That’s because I never got any sleep!’ said the Rat appealing to the crowd. ‘He had me working in a sweatshop!’
‘We needed the money to pay your psychiatrist.’
‘You needed it to pay off your bookies! And I won’t even mention his drink problem!’
When the crowd grew larger I got nervous! ‘Let’s go,’ I said, but she ignored me.
‘I had to drink! You were driving me insane! All that lying and stealing and setting fire to your pet poodle! Poor Pier, he never knew what cooked him!’
The Rat wiped away an imaginary tear. ‘He sold my sister’s medicine when she was dying of leukaemia!’
The crowd gasped.
‘I had to do it, to buy food!’
‘You did it to buy drugs!’ retorted the Rat. ‘And he never paid the drug dealers and now they’re hunting us down! I could be killed at any minute.’
People began to jostle for a better place.
‘She was responsible for her mother’s death!’ said Tommy addressing the crowd.
‘That was him! He kicked her when she was pregnant!’ screamed the Rat.
A few angry jeers came from the crowd. Tommy crouched as if cowering from a blow. ‘You kicked her as well!’ he shouted.
All eyes fell on the Rat.
‘I missed! It was you I was trying to kick! To stop you from strangling her because she was having your brother’s baby!’
Tommy froze with stage fright. He looked at the angry faces around him and then back at the Rat. ‘You’re a goddamn liar!’ he shouted.
‘I might be a goddamn liar, Tommy Mattolla! But I’m a better goddamn liar than you’ll ever be!’ And with that she took a bow.
The crowd cheered and clapped. Shock turned to surprise on the hustler’s face and, taking the Rat’s hand, he bowed alongside her.
The Rat opened her arms. ‘Are you not entertained?’ she shouted.
As the applause grew, Tommy pulled a hat from nowhere and worked the crowd. I couldn’t believe it. People pushed into one another to put money in that hat. Then someone threw the Rat a rose and she came over all starry-eyed. Her first Broadway performance had been a success.
All of a sudden Tommy wasn’t there and two cops were heading towards us! Me and the Rat merged with the crowd and then we ran for the bikes. ‘Let’s ride,’ said the Rat and we sprinted away.
My eyes felt heavy when we reached the gap in the park wall. But they opened wide as we entered the park. We rode down the dark paths and pulled up by the lawn. Then getting off our bikes we stood there in silence. We looked around us: scanning the trees and the lawns, and looking deep into the dark shadows. We couldn’t see anyone, not unless they were hiding. ‘Come on,’ I whispered. We ran across the lawn, pushing our bikes, and fought our way through the bushes. I switched on my flashlight as soon as we were through and, keeping it low, I searched the den. I was dreading that some strange homeless person had taken our place. But there was no one there, thank God.
The Rat dumped her bike, took off her sneakers, and slid into her sleeping bag. ‘This is great!’
I lay down next to her. And there we were with nothing but bushes separating us from murderers, robbers and goddamn paedophiles, and the Rat thought it was great.
‘And it’s been a great day as well,’ she whispered. ‘We’re in New York and we’ve seen lots of great stuff, and we’ve made another friend. I bet Tommy knows a lot of people. We’ll have to ask him if he knows Uncle Jerome.’
‘We won’t see him again,’ I said looking around at the bushes.
‘Of course we will. We’re partners. He’s not getting away from us … Turn the flashlight off, Bob, or I’ll never get to sleep.’
I switched off the light and lay there. I was so jumpy. There were strange shapes in the shadows and the slightest sound made me sit up. It was only when the Rat started snoring I kind of relaxed. I put my hands behind my head and looked at the moon. Next thing I know my eyes closed and our first day in New York City had come to an end. And boy was I exhausted.
Chapter Thirteen
In my dreams I was in Times Square and there was someone singing. Then I woke to the Rat singing in the sunshine, ‘I recall Central Park in Fall—’
‘Shush, you’ll give us away.’
‘Give us away to who?’
I looked around me. We were camouflaged by the trees and bushes. Even when I stood up I could only see the top of the Fifth Avenue apartment blocks.
‘Did you sleep well, Bob?’
‘Sure, but I’ll sleep a lot better when we’re in Sexy Sandra’s hostel.’
‘I think we’re better off here, Bob. It’s rent free and there’s a lot of strange types hang around them hostels. So shall we stay here, Bob? What do you think?’
She was trying to manipulate me and I’d only just woken up. ‘We’ll see. But for now I need breakfast.’
The Rat jumped up. ‘Great, And then we’ll knock on all these apartment blocks until Uncle Jerome comes down and claims us.’
We put our sleeping bags in their holders, tied them to our rucksacks, and hung them on a low branch. Then, leaving our bikes at the den, we scurried across the lawn to the path.
There were dozens of joggers out and most of them were girls. I had never woken up to so many girls. And they were all wearing stuff that was stretchy and tight. New York has some pretty girls. One of them jogged towards me with everything bouncing.
‘Good morning,’ she said.
‘Hi!’ I said. I liked her straight away! Then I turned to look at her from behind. When I looked back the Rat had her arms folded.
‘Our dear dead dad is not yet cold in his grave and you’ve turned into a pervert!’
I could see this ‘not yet cold in his grave’ line was going to be a constant weapon with the Rat. I was going to tell her to mind her own business. But her screwed-up face looked kind of sad and so I didn’t. ‘It’s OK to look.’
‘No it’s not. You have to wait until you’re sixteen.’
‘No, you don’t.’
‘You do, you’re my brother!’
I put my hand on her shoulder and walked her out of the park. She kept her arms folded until I told her I’d pay for breakfast. You could always get back in the Rat’s good books by paying for things.
We walked down Fifth Avenue until we found a street vendor selling coffee and doughnuts. The Rat ordered in Spanish and taking our breakfast to a bench we ate while watching the New York squirrels scurry around us. And then, as if it had only just dawned on me, I asked: ‘Who taught you Spanish? They don’t teach it at Luxton.’
‘Miss Gabriela Felipe Mendez gave me some tapes. I put them on when I slept, and after a couple of months I could speak Spanish. The hardest thing is to get your hearing in tune. But once you’ve learned the words to a dozen Spanish songs, you’re good to go.’
‘I think I might want to learn Spanish someday.’
‘She’s too old for you, Bob, and she always will be.’
‘But do you think she likes me?’
‘Of course she likes you. You’re my brother.’
When we had finished we put our trash in the garbage and headed to the first apartment block at the beginning of the park. And there I approached the doorman. ‘Does Jer
ome DeBillier live here?’
He looked straight ahead like a Mountie on guard duty. ‘We’re not allowed to give out information about our tenants.’
‘Can’t you give us a clue?’ asked the Rat.
‘I’m afraid not.’
We moved away so he couldn’t hear us. ‘You think we should bribe him, like they do in the movies?’
The Rat scoffed. ‘I’m not giving my money to a doorman.’
We walked to the next building. ‘Does Jerome DeBillier live here?’ I asked.
The doorman, who was dressed like he was in the twenties, frowned as he thought. ‘I know that name. But he doesn’t live in this building. Is he a relative?’
He had such a high-pitched Irish accent I almost laughed.
‘He’s our uncle,’ said the Rat. She had a big smile on her face. I could see she wanted to laugh too.
‘Go see Connor in the next building over, he’ll know. Tell him Sean sent you.’
We thanked him and walked away, laughing as we went. He was a nice guy. You couldn’t help but like him. But Connor, a short stocky Irishman, said he’d never heard of Uncle Jerome. Then he went back to arguing with some movers over the damage that, he said, they’d caused to one of the building’s doors. ‘Ask Patrick on the next building over,’ he said. ‘He might know.’
Patrick shook his head, ‘You can take it from me that Jerome DeBillier does not live within a block of this building. Because if he did I’d know about it, and I don’t. But you kids have a grand day!’
I walked up Fifth Avenue with the Rat walking behind me.
‘My name is Marie Claire and I’m from County Mayo. Oh to kiss the Blarney Stone!’
I stopped abruptly and she bumped into my chest. ‘Will you stop speaking in that irritating Irish accent?’
She looked up at me. ‘To be sure!’
She did stop, but she switched to rapping instead. I could see it was going to be a long day.
There were a few apartment blocks without a doorman and so we pressed the buzzers and asked the tenants themselves. One guy told us he’d call the cops if we pressed his buzzer again, and so the Rat kept her finger on it to teach him a lesson. Then she pressed another buzzer. ‘Hello,’ said a man, who spoke in a kind of gay aristocracy.
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