The South Side Tour Guide

by Shelter Somerset

  “He sounds hotheaded.”

  “He’s all mouth. Go into the kitchen with Mason. Just let me speak with him a minute. It’ll be okay. Trust me, please.”

  Mason stood, dwarfed by the kitchen’s doorway. “Dad, what’s going on?”

  Andy nodded toward the kitchen. “Go on, Harden.”

  Confused and somewhat resentful, Harden ushered Mason farther into the kitchen. He instructed him to stand silent and Harden peered around the doorframe.

  Andy was reaching for the chain. Nerves mixed with dread brought Harden’s fists to his chest. The man on the other side knocked louder, rattling the lace curtains.

  “Hold on, Ken,” Andy said with a grunt. “Give me a minute, why don’t you.”

  Slowly, Andy inserted the chain. He eased open the door and peered through the narrow gap. Harden could not see the man’s face, for the door opened the other way, but Andy’s expression revealed uncertainty and fear. The man hardly came for a kindly call.

  “What are you doing here?” Andy whispered.

  “Why haven’t you answered my messages?”

  “I turned off my phone. We were watching a movie.”

  “How quaint. Now will you open the door?”

  “It’s late, Ken.”

  All of a sudden, the door opened as far as the chain lock would allow. Andy pushed back. Harden moved to intervene.

  “I’m coming out, Ken. Just wait. Geez! You’ll break the door down.”

  Trusting Andy’s instincts, Harden stayed back. But he remained close, ready. But ready for what? His mind began to roil with apprehension.

  Andy reclosed the door, slid the chain out, and opened the door a sufficient width to squeeze through. For a moment, Harden wondered if he’d ever see Andy again.

  Harden motioned for Mason, still standing like a scarecrow, to stay put in the kitchen. He moved to the door, which remained ajar. He nudged it open a few more inches to hear the voices outside.

  “What on earth are you doing here, Ken?” Andy was saying.

  “You’ve ignored all my calls, texts, and e-mails. What other choice did I have?”

  There was a pause. Curious, Harden opened the door wider. Andy and his friend had moved to the driveway, where the full moon spotlighted a fiery red-faced man with muscles that stretched his short-sleeved collared shirt to the point Harden imagined it might rip into ribbons if he exhaled too much. The storm door muted their voices. Harden cracked it open to listen.

  “Just because I haven’t called you back,” Andy said, looking ludicrous standing in his stocking feet, “you race out to Iowa like an escaped mental patient?”

  The man Andy referred to as Ken stepped closer to him, fists tight by his sides. His red hair stood out in a blaze, as if he’d been running his fingers through it in a fit of agitation.

  “Listen, Andy, I made a decision, and you’re coming back to Chicago with me. Enough of this nonsense playing Farmer Joe.”

  In a gritty voice, Andy replied, “You’re the one who told me to come here. You insisted I hightail it, remember?”

  “That was a month ago, for chrissakes. Things have settled down in Chicago. Time you got home.”

  “And do what? The whole city, including you, wants to keep me from my South Side tours. You want to move in together, huh? You ready for that? We can legally marry in Iowa. Let’s say you and me apply for a marriage license tonight. Right this minute.”

  “Married? What are you talking about? I just want you back in Chicago.”

  “What do you want with me there? So you can play with me, like some toy? You order me around like you own me, Ken. But you don’t. You never have.”

  Ken gazed toward the orange moon, big and round, revealing his bulbous Adam’s apple. With more conviction contorting his face, he turned back to Andy. “I’ll be nice and give you two minutes to get your things. You can follow me in your van. We’ll stop at a motel. You’re coming with me tonight, no other option.”

  “I’m not going with you, Ken.”

  “That’s how you feel, then?”

  “I’ve made myself clear.”

  “Then screw your belongings.”

  Andy raised his forearms to block Ken’s grabbing him. “Get off me, Ken. Stop acting like a bully. I’ve had enough. Now get out of here. Get in your car and go. Get off me.”

  Ken clamped Andy’s arm and yanked. “I’m not leaving here alone.”

  Andy dug his heels into the gravel to keep Ken from pulling him to his car. “Let go of me, Ken. Let go of me.”

  Harden scurried for the kitchen. “Quick, Mason. Run to my bedroom closet and fetch my rifle and the bullets. Handle it the way I taught you.”

  “But….”

  “Keep quiet, and don’t wake your sister. Do as I say.”

  Puzzlement shimmering in his blue eyes, Mason hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Squaring his shoulders, Harden marched back to the front door.

  Andy was still struggling with the redheaded giant. “I’m not going with you, Ken. That’s that. Now let go of me.” Ken tugged harder, forcing Andy to wince. “Stop being so damn stubborn,” Andy said.

  “You better wise up, Andy.”

  “You’re the nut, coming all the way out here. Now get off me.”

  Mason scurried downstairs and handed Harden the rifle and box of bullets. Harden whispered for Mason to return upstairs and stay in his room. With one eye on Andy and Ken, Harden loaded the Winchester with three bullets, set the box with the remaining two bullets aside, and creaked open the storm door with his foot.

  Both men turned when Harden stepped onto the porch. The foyer light cast his shadow across the length of the stoop and near to where Andy and Ken struggled in the driveway. Rifle poised chest high, Harden stood, staring and waiting.

  Ken’s red eyebrows twisted with an angry fire. He studied Harden like a fox. All at once, he turned his attention back to Andy as if Harden had never ventured outside.

  “It’s time to come back to Chicago, Andy. Stop being difficult.”

  “Leave him alone.” Harden gripped the rifle tighter. “He wants to stay.”

  Ken stopped and glared at him. “Who’s this bozo?”

  “That’s Harden. He’s my… my former brother-in-law. Harden, go back inside. I’ll take care of this.”

  “Not until he leaves my property.”

  “I’ll be happy to leave your property, as soon as Andy gets in the car.”

  “You put him in your car against his will and I’ll blow your tires out.”

  “Nice.” Ken sniggered. “A country bumpkin with his shotgun. Typical.”

  “It’s a rifle,” Harden stated. “I’d think that a cop would know the difference.”

  “You got the light to your back,” Ken said, his face puckering. “Hard to see in shadows.”

  “No matter. Now leave Andy alone,” Harden stressed. “Can’t you see he doesn’t want to go with you?”

  Ken, his hand still clutched on Andy’s arm, leered at him. “You’re threatening a police officer. You know how much trouble you could get yourself into for that?”

  “It’s my property and you’re not invited here. You’re the one stirring up trouble.”

  Andy shook himself free. “I’m through with this, Ken. Stop acting like a pimp and go back to Chicago. I’m gone. See you.” He turned for the house. Ken took one step and grabbed him by the shoulders, jerking his head backward.

  Harden raised the rifle. “I’ll call the police,” he hollered.

  “I am the police.”

  Heated blood pulsed through the veins coiling around Harden’s neck and forearms. “I’m warning you. I’m not afraid to use this.”

  “I’m not afraid to use this either.” Ken pointed with his chin to the holstered gun strapped on his waist. It was the first time Harden had noticed. He breathed, licked his lips.

  Ken shook himself. “Enough of this bullshit. Come on, Andy.”

  Harden hoisted the rifle higher and stared
down the barrel. Flexing his trigger finger, he took two steps closer. “Back away, get into your car, and drive off my property. This isn’t Illinois. We’re allowed to shoot intruders.”

  Ken relaxed, but Harden sensed he was merely collecting his strength. He was easily four inches taller and thirty pounds heavier than both he and Andy. Despite the rifle shaking in his hands, Harden suspected he could fire if need be. His grandfather had taken him and his two brothers shooting when they were boys. He was a bad shot against the silhouette sheets they’d used for targets. A large man might come easier, he considered, loosening his finger.

  “Let’s all stay calm,” Andy said, holding his hand up. “No need for violence. Everyone stay calm. Harden, I told you, I’ll take care of this. Now, please, go back inside and—”

  “I want him off my land,” Harden said, taking the first step down the stoop.

  Ken squeezed his fingers into tighter and tighter fists, and his shoulders rose closer to his reddening ears. A small slit cut across his face. An open wound impersonating a smile. Nothing was heard but crickets and the sporadic song from the night birds.

  “You shoot a cop and they’ll put you away,” Ken said, snickering. “Regardless of your hick laws. You’ll be sorry, for sure. All I want to do is take back what belongs to me.”

  The words stung Harden worse than Andy’s pained expression. He focused his watering eyes along the sight. “He belongs here. Now move out.”

  Ken’s ugly smirk faded. “What’s going on here? You two fooling around?”

  Andy twisted to face Ken. “Listen to me. I’m going to march back inside that house, and you’re going to get into your car and drive away and never come back here again. Okay? Good-bye.”

  Andy spun on his stocking feet and did as he’d declared. Ken stood planted in the driveway, watching Andy take Harden by his rifle arm and lead him inside the house. Andy slammed the door behind them. Mason and Olivia were huddled on the bottom step.

  Andy wedged between them and pulled them to his sides. “Sorry about that, guys. It’s all over.”

  “Does that bad man want to get us?” Olivia asked, sniveling.

  Andy eyed Harden. “Don’t worry. He won’t hurt us. He’s going away.”

  Harden leaned against the door, rifle clasped in hand. He stared at Andy and the kids. Pride and relief surged in his throat, and the tears that had boiled behind his eyes threatened to fall. He chuckled, picturing how Andy had finally stood up to that burly beast.

  The front door jolted, almost knocking the gun loose from Harden’s hand.

  Harden cradled the rifle and pushed back, banging the door shut. Andy rushed to his side. Ken pounded the door, trying to force his way inside.

  “Let me in! Dammit! Don’t you walk away from me!”

  Harden and Andy drove their shoulders into the door. Harden latched the locks, slid the chain in place, and turned to Mason. “Get you and your sister upstairs. Call 911 on your cell phone. Tell them we have an armed home invasion. If you can’t get through on your cell, use the landline in my bedroom. Stay clear of the windows. Go now!”

  Hesitating only seconds, Mason seized Olivia’s hand and fled with her up the steps by twos.

  Unexpected quiet allowed Harden a moment to clear his mind. He studied Andy’s gaping dark-blue eyes. He wanted to console him, but fear glued his shoulder to the door.

  Something crashed in the living room. Harden ran toward the sound. Shattered glass crunched under his slippers. Ken had broken one of the french door windows. “We’ve called the police,” Harden hollered outside. “Now beat it! Stop harassing us! I’ll shoot you. I swear I will.”

  Harden aimed the gun through the shattered window. His finger twitched. A shot blast echoed in his ears. Bewildered, he brought the gun closer to his face. Smoke curled from the end of the barrel. Andy dashed to his side.

  “Did you hit him?”

  Disbelieving, Harden stared down at the trembling and smoking rifle. “I… I’m unsure. I couldn’t have. I didn’t even see him.”

  Heavy steps stumbled down the porch. Andy glanced outside through the broken window. “I think you only shot out the porch light,” he said. “It looks busted, unless Ken did that too.”

  But before Harden could speculate, more sounds of breaking glass came from the kitchen. They raced over. A softball-sized rock lay among the shattered glass scattered across the linoleum. The blinds were gnarled and rattling in the wind.

  “He’s gone crazy,” Harden said in a furious whisper. Maybe full moons do make people nuts.

  The latest attack was followed by a string of strident curses and demands from somewhere near the cornfield for Andy to come outside. Andy rushed for the front door. Harden held him by his arm.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going out to him. Look what I’ve brought you here. Let me go to him so you can live in peace.”

  “Are you crazier than him?”

  “I wish I had never come here,” Andy said, shaking his head. “I’ve brought my Chicago troubles here.”

  “Stop dramatizing. I told you, you haven’t brought us any troubles. You can’t go with that lunatic. I meant it when I said you belong here.”

  “Kamila was right. I’m a horrible influence for the kids.”

  “Their own mother is a horrible influence to them, Andy. This isn’t anything new for us, believe it or not. We all have our demons haunting us. Mine is an ex-wife. Right now, yours is an ex-boyfriend. You might as well blame me for Lillian, then.” Harden detected the flush darkening Andy’s face. He wanted to embrace him, to underline his sentiments, when more shouting from outside jerked his attention toward the broken window.

  “Come out of there, Andy Wingal! Come out of there! I’m taking you back to Chicago with me, like it or not! I’ll camp out here all night if I have to.”

  Andy pulled out his cell phone and switched it on. He inhaled, waiting for it to come alive. Harden watched, knowing what he planned to do. Andy tapped a few buttons and brought the phone to his ear. “The police are on their way, Ken. You better leave now. I don’t care what you have to say. You’ve crossed the line big time. Stop harassing us!” He clicked off the phone and shoved it into his pocket, breathing as if he’d scrambled up a telephone pole.

  Two gunshots punctuated Andy’s last words. Harden reassured Andy with a light touch to his shoulder. “He’s shooting into the sky, burning off steam,” he said. “I can see the sparks flying upward.”

  “The kids are upstairs.”

  “We’ll wait for the police with them.”

  They found Mason and Olivia in the corner of the master bedroom, away from the windows, clutching each other and shaking. The landline phone sat on the floor beside them. Harden asked if they had called the police, and Mason nodded, his eyes wider than pools. Olivia sniffled into his shoulder. Mason was growing up, Harden noted in a flash. Before long, he would abandon him, followed by Olivia.

  He set the box of bullets and rifle aside. “Come with me,” he said, motioning for the kids. “Let’s get you someplace safer.” He shepherded the kids into the master bathroom, where the sight of Andy’s toiletry bag made Harden’s face burn. Andy had been leaving it there since they’d begun sharing the bedroom. Would the children notice, or care if they did? “Stay in here,” he said. “You’ll be okay. We’ll be right outside the door. The police will arrive any moment.”

  Ken continued to holler from somewhere around the edge of the cornfield. Andy was staring out one of the windows. Next, he fired a worried look toward the door, which Harden had moments before locked. Rifle in hand, he stood guard with Andy, glimpsing out the window in time to see the fuming Ken move to the side of his car.

  “Where did you get a rifle?” Andy asked, eyeing the gun in Harden’s hand.

  “We live out in the boonies. Out here, sometimes we need to take matters into our own hands. More for the foxes and coyotes than crazy people, though.”

  “But Mason called the cops
.”

  Harden hesitated. “They’ll take a good twenty minutes to get here. I know firsthand from when I used to call them….” He paused and pictured Lillian. “I just know from experience how long it’ll take them. That’s all.”

  Andy returned to peering out the window. “Maybe he’s finally going to leave.”

  “Let’s hope.” Harden squeezed the gun butt. “I want to keep an eye on him in case.”

  Andy’s text message tone sounded. Harden had become accustomed to the ding ding. By Andy’s expression, Harden guessed who had texted.

  “What does he say?” Harden asked.

  Andy gulped and flushed. “He told me to come outside before he ransacks the house.”

  Harden tightened his grip on the rifle. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  “I’m sorry, Harden. I’m so sorry.”

  Harden leaned the rifle against the wall and at last took Andy into his arms. “Stop apologizing. It’s not your fault. It’s not.”

  Andy repeated his regrets, and Harden held him, whispering over and over that he wasn’t to blame. Harden grasped his shoulders and focused on his eyes, which now shone like sapphires. “Don’t let that guy get to you, Andy. That’s what punks like that want.”

  Wiping his nose, Andy attempted to smile. He fixed his gaze out the window. His eyes widened, and he pointed. “What’s that?”

  Two specks of distant light emerged through the cornfield like a prowling tiger’s eyes at night, growing in intensity and size. A growling noise accompanied the lights. The bathroom door swung open, and Olivia raced to Harden. Mason chased after her.

  “I told you kids to wait in the bathroom.”

  “I don’t want to,” Olivia said, sniveling on Harden’s shoulder.

  “She wouldn’t listen to me,” Mason said.

  “Stay clear of the window.” Harden shielded them from the rifle. “Squat down behind me.”

  Andy kept his gaze pinned outside. “Is it the cops?”

  The strange lights blazed a narrow path through the cornstalks, and the roaring increased. Harden and Andy shielded their eyes with their forearms from the lights suddenly lurching skyward. Next the lights swept down and moved to the right.

  Harden began to chortle. “It’s Dick Carelli,” he said, gathering the children tighter against him. “You see? It’s Dick.”