by Gina Ranalli
Ed had met Hank and Dale when their wives had given birth to their sons a couple years prior. Hank had taken his punch like a man, pausing only to take off his glasses and request that he not get hit in the nose. Ed had liked the guy right away.
Dale had been more of a typical wimp, trying to get away, yelling and fussing and putting down the government, but in the end, Ed decided he liked him too. Dale was quirky and funny, though still very much a wimp. It was his wife that wore the pants in that house, that was for sure.
Gathered around the dining room table, the men eyed their cards and sipped their beers while Johnny Cash drifted to them through the living room speakers. Johnny was walking the line and Ed could certainly respect that.
“That Johnny Cash sure can sing, I’ll tell you what,” Hank said. “Hehehe.”
“Got that right,” Ed agreed, tossing a card down. “Hit me again, Dale.”
“Yeah, I heard he was a drug addict,” Bill said. Everyone glared at him and he flushed pink, staring down at his cards again. “I seen the movie,” he mumbled.
“You keep talking like that,” Hank said, “And I’ll have to kick your ass.”
They were quiet for a while after that, serious expressions on all their faces.
Ash wandered in holding a glass of red wine and wearing a long cotton night gown. Ed noticed with dismay that his own mother had had a nightgown quite similar to it. He also noticed that she was smoking.
“Ashley,” he hollered. “Get that cigarette outside!”
It embarrassed him to no end when she showed up in front of the guys, disrespecting his wishes and blatantly ignoring him.
“Oh, cool your jets,” she said. “I just came to fill up my glass.” She peered over Bill’s shoulder. “Isn’t that called a flush or something?”
All four men groaned and Dale folded.
Ash gave them an innocent look before moving off into the kitchen to top up a glass that was already half full.
Ed released a sigh of distress and apologized.
“It’s ok, Ed,” Bill said cheerfully. “It’s really a straight.”
Dale cursed loudly and took a long swallow of beer.
Ed’s cell phone rang. He was tempted not to answer it, thinking it was most likely the hospital but when he glanced at it, he didn’t recognize the number. This made him even less likely to answer it, but when the phone persisted and the guys gave him annoyed looks, he grabbed it off the table and barked into it. “What?”
“Ed, man, it’s Drizzle.”
“Drizzle! How the fuck did you get this number?”
At the exact same instant Drizzle was saying, “Your wife gave it to me,” Ash was strolling back through the room sipping her wine and refusing to glance at him.
“Son of a bitch,” Ed said.
“Hey, man, I’m on a stakeout. You need to get down here. The chick is gonna pop any second.”
Frowning, Ed said, “What the fuck are you talking about, a stake out?”
His friends’ eyes were on him now, blinking with curiosity.
“The Dimes, man,” Drizzle said. “They gave up a chick over in the projects. Get this—the dime is her teenage daughter. She’s gonna blink the light off and on once the kid pops out.”
Ed sighed. He couldn’t believe his ears. “I’m not going to the fucking projects, Drizzle.”
There was silence on the phone for a long moment. Then Drizzle said, “You sure about that, man? I got Bowie on speed dial.”
“You little fucking shit!” Ed yelled, jumping up and knocking his chair over.
His three friends flinched at the sudden outburst.
“You call Bowie and I swear to fucking God, you’ll be in a wheelchair for the rest of your miserable little life!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, big guy. Is that anyway to talk to a friend? To your number one fan? I’m doing you a favor, remember.”
“Some favor,” Ed muttered, trying to control his temper. “I hope you get caught in those projects, Drizzle. I hope some fucking gang catches you skulking around and skins you alive.”
Drizzle laughed. “Ok, then. Talk to you later, Champ. The chick could burst any second and I have to get some Mother Puncher down here. I wanted it to be you, but oh well. The only other one I know is Bowie, so—”
“Alright, already,” Ed yelled. “Shut the fuck up and give me the fucking address.”
5
Half an hour later, Ed was pulling his Trinidad in behind Drizzle’s beat-up old Pinto, which was parked in a park-and-ride a few blocks from the place where the woman was having the baby. Drizzle had insisted they only take his car to the building because Ed’s would stick out like a sore thumb in that neighborhood. Ed didn’t argue too much. He was more than happy to not have his truck in a shitty neighborhood, though part of him wished he’d taken Ash’s car instead of his own. That way, if the fucking thing got stripped, it would serve her right. After all, she and her fucking new car were part of the reason he was here in the first place.
He climbed into the passenger seat of the Pinto, feeling the little car lean under the weight of his bulk.
“Glad you could make, my man,” Drizzle said, smiling.
Ed silently chewed a toothpick and wished it was this scrawny twerp’s body.
“Sounded like you had company.”
“I did.”
“Oh, yeah? A party?”
“Something like that.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” though Ed didn’t think he sounded sorry at all. “This’ll be worth it, though,” Drizzle said, starting the engine. “Remember. Five hundred bucks.”
Ed didn’t bother to ask where the five hundred bucks would be coming from. Drizzle had once told him that his father or his uncle or some damn body was a congressman’s aide or some shit. Ed knew the kid had connections of some sort, but he didn’t care to know the specifics. He figured, the more he was kept in the dark, the better.
Drizzle drove them down a dark street lined with tenements. Ed was somewhat surprised that he saw no pedestrians but didn’t think too much of it. These kinds of places were dangerous at night, even for the gangs that ran them.
“Well, here it is,” Drizzle said, parking in front of a puke-green three family house.
“I thought you said the projects. This is just a house.”
“Not this house,” Drizzle said, pointing. “That one.”
Ed looked at where Drizzle was pointing and groaned. The place looked like a bomb had recently gone off inside it. There was crap all over the front yard, if the patch of dirt could even be called a yard. Rusting hulks of two cars, a broken rocking chair, a shit load of broken toys and empty cans and who knew what else.
A few of the steps leading up to the front door were broken; the railing was gone completely.
“People live there?” Ed asked, amazed and disgusted.
“Top floor. See the light?”
“Holy shit. Drizzle, I can’t go in there and bust some chick’s chops. She probably can’t afford a hospital.”
“Not what her daughter told me. She said she’s just having the kid here so the Mother Punchers will think exactly what you’re thinking, if any of them were to catch wind of it. Said she’s got plenty of money, just doesn’t want to pay it, doesn’t want the government involved at all.”
“Doesn’t she know that the kid won’t ever be insured unless she can prove it was born in a hospital?”
“Well, not till it turns eighteen and can get its own anyway. Yeah, of course she knows. Like I said, she’s got money. She’s just one of those conspiracy theory nut jobs. Thinks she’s living in the fucking X-Files or some shit. Despises the government. Even more than you do, Champ.” Drizzle laughed while Ed chewed moodily on his toothpick.
“You’d better not be yanking my chain, Drizzle,” he said after a while.
“Scout’s honor, bossman. That’s what the girl said. And hey, she’s a fan. Ordered a poster of you winning the belt against Tolberg. That poste
r is a big seller, you know.”
“Great,” Ed said. He didn’t know if it was great or not. It was true Drizzle sent him a check every few months for whatever profits he made with his little fan club venture, but it was never any amount of money that Ed paid attention to. Chump change was all it was. “How long are we gonna have to sit here? Any idea?”
“Shouldn’t be long. The chick said she was pretty close right before I called you.”
“So, what am I supposed to do? Go rushing in there like a fucking gang-buster? Kick the fucking door in? What?”
“It’s unlocked, man. Shit, give me some credit. I’m not a total moron, you know.”
Ed grunted, watching the light in the attic window of the abandoned house. “They have electricity in there?”
“Lady got it turned on just for the occasion.”
“How many people in there? Any men?”
Drizzle shrugged. “The girl didn’t say.”
“Well, fuck me blind!” Ed shouted. “How the hell am I supposed to go in there and punch her if she’s surrounded by mooks with guns or some fucking shit? You trying to get me killed?”
“Will you relax, man? I think she would have mentioned dudes with guns, Champ. She’s pissed at her mom. Why’d you think she’s a Dime anyway?”
“Fuck!” Ed continued to hiss and sputter until they saw the light blink on and off several times.
“Shit!” Drizzle exclaimed. “This is it, Champ! Let’s rock and roll!”
Ed exited the car reluctantly and cautiously looked up and down the street for anything that seemed suspicious. “If there’s anyone with weapons in there, Drizzle, the deal is off.”
“Man, you think I’d be going in if there was gonna be that kind of trouble? You really think I’m some kind of loser, don’t you?”
“Now that you mention it, yeah, I do.”
Drizzle gave Ed a dirty look that made Ed like him just a tad more and then they were carefully climbing what was left of the stairs and entering the dilapidated house.
Inside, it was nearly too dark too see and they had to take every step gingerly to keep from tripping and falling and, most likely, breaking something.
“You didn’t think to bring a flashlight, huh smart guy?” Ed whispered.
“No. Did you?”
As they ascended the stairs, Ed began to think about a career change. Maybe working in a factory wouldn’t be so bad. Sure as hell couldn’t be any worse than this shit.
Then he thought about all those other guys who would gladly take his job, gladly punch women as hard as they fucking could just because their own mommies didn’t hug them enough when they were little or because they couldn’t get a date in high school, and now every woman on the planet had to pay for it.
If only I didn’t have a conscience, Ed thought. Then I could walk away from this job and never look back, not give a damn if women got their heads caved in by some loser with a small dick and a huge grudge against half the human population.
He was still having his inner war when they reached the top floor.
Drizzle stepped back from the door and gestured. “Go ahead, man,” he murmured. “It’s your show.”
Ed ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the door, listening to the sounds of a crying baby on the other side of it. The kid wasn’t screaming. Just crying softly, maybe already muffled against his mother’s soft breast.
“Fuck,” he whispered. He tapped his hip pocket to be certain the small digital camera was still there and then reached out and opened the door as quietly as he could. He didn’t want the mother to try running. Not through this house, this dark, this neighborhood. She would likely drop the kid and God knew he didn’t want any of that kind of shit on his head.
He peeked inside, saw nothing, looked back at Drizzle and pointed with his chin. Then he opened the door wider and stepped into what had once been an attic apartment, the first room being a living room/kitchen combo. Besides a bathroom, he was fairly certain there was only one other room and knew he was right when he saw a light flick on beneath a door right in front of them.
“What are you doing?” an exhausted woman asked. “Stop doing that. You’ll attract attention.”
“I’m bored,” a younger female voice said, much louder than the first had spoken, clearly wanting to be heard.
“You’re bored?” the first woman spoke again. “You have a brand new baby sister and you’re bored? I swear, Virginia, sometimes I don’t know what’s wrong with you.”
“Whatever,” the girl said.
Ed dreaded opening the door but after taking a deep breath that was exactly what he did.
What he saw stopped him in his tracks.
The woman—the mother—was sitting naked in a plastic kiddie pool filled to the top with bloody water, a naked baby clutched to her chest. She screamed when she saw Ed, instinctively covering the baby’s ear with her free hand. The teenage girl was perched on a window sill to the right, about ten feet away.
“Holy shit,” Drizzle said, peering over Ed’s shoulder at the scene.
“Ma’am,” Ed said awkwardly. “I’m Ed Means. I’m a federal appointed Mother Puncher.”
“Oh my God!” the teenager shouted, a little too dramatically. “How did you find us?”
The woman ignored her daughter and tried to sink lower into the pool, attempting to cover her breasts while keeping the head of her baby above water.
Though it usually wasn’t necessary when he was at the hospital, Ed pulled out his wallet and showed the woman his official badge. “Maybe you want to hand the infant to your daughter, ma’am?”
“You!” The woman suddenly snarled, her face warping into something resembling a gargoyle. “You bastards! You bugged my house didn’t you? You fucking trolls!”
Ed looked at Drizzle, who shrugged.
“You’re not taking my baby, you fucking Feds! Get out of here! Get out, you immoral monsters!”
Glancing at the teenager, Ed said, “Maybe you want to grab your sister for me, Miss?”
“Okay.” The girl crossed the room to the pool and leaned over. “Give her to me, Mom. Come on. Give me Jessie.”
Her mother glared at her, eyes blazing with betrayal. “You! You fucking Judas! You called them, didn’t you?”
“Of course not!” the teenager did a pretty good job of looking surprised. Even offended. “Why would I do that?”
“You never wanted me to have this baby. You even said so! You were disgusted when I told you I was pregnant!”
“It’s not right, Mom,” the girl said, her brows furrowing. “You shouldn’t have had her. I told you not to, but you didn’t want to listen. And now you think you’re above the law!”
The two of them began screaming at each and then the baby joined in and pretty soon Ed knew he’d have to take a lot of aspirin to get rid of the headache that was coming on. He tried to concentrate on the baby, feeling kind of bad for the little thing. Not only had she selfishly been brought into a world in which she would not be granted equal rights but also a world which might not even be able to feed her within a few short years. Not to mention the fact that she’d have to put up with these two screaming at each other all the time.
“What should we do?” Drizzle had to shout to be heard over the women.
Ed rubbed his stubble and assessed the situation. “Excuse me?” He yelled. He had to yell it several times before either one of them would look at him. When they did, he addressed the teenager again. “Please, take Jessie out of the room for a minute, ok? It won’t take long.” He looked at the mother, wishing he knew her name. “I promise I won’t hit you that hard and then we’ll just take the photo and be out of here. What do you say?”
“I say go suck yourself, you government Nazi!”
“Mom!” The teenager reached for the baby again and the mother twisted out of her reach.
“I should have brought Sandy with us,” Ed said absently.
“Who?” Drizzle asked.
&nbs
p; “This maternity nurse I know. She’s the best.”
He let the screaming go on for a few more minutes before shouting that they needed to shut up right now. “Ok, listen up, ladies. This is how it’s gonna be. Mom, you’re gonna hand the kid over to the other kid and then take your lumps like a big girl. If not, I’ll be forced to call the cops and then you’ll really be up shit’s creek. How’s that sound to everybody? Good? Good. Let’s do this thing. You.” He pointed to the girl. “Take the kid out of here right now.”
This time the mother handed over the newborn without saying a word, though her face was the color of fresh plums. The teenager wrapped the blanket tight around the baby and then moved past the men without looking at them.
Ed looked at the mother apologetically and sighed. “Ok, then. Do you have a preference?”
“What the fuck do you think?”
He shrugged. “Maybe you should stand up.”
“Oh, right! So you can get your jollies off by seeing a naked woman? You and your pervert friend? Can’t you see enough already?”
“It’s nothing like that ma’am. It’s just that with you being so low to the floor, I can’t guarantee a clean hit and if you stood up, my friend here could catch you.”
“Your friend didn’t show me his badge!” she shouted triumphantly, as though the knowledge had just been whispered in her ear.
Ed stared at her for a moment before turning to Drizzle. “Go check on the girl and the kid.”
He thought Drizzle would argue, but he didn’t. He even closed the door behind himself.
“Satisfied?” Ed said. “Now, you gonna stand up or are you gonna make this harder than it has to be?”
“Harder for you? I repeat, what the fuck do you think?”
“Ok, then.” He crossed the room and got down on his knees beside the pool, the woman watching him with feral eyes. The position was awkward but it would have to do. “Sorry about this,” he said, though at that point he wasn’t so sure he meant it anymore. Then he reared back his fist and nailed her in the forehead. Her head snapped back and then forward again, but she didn’t make a sound. Not even a grunt. Ed was impressed, watching her, waiting for the purple welt that was already beginning to rise on her forehead. They had to wait until the injury would appear on film, even if the bruise wasn’t fully formed yet. The hint of a bruise was usually enough to satisfy the insurance suits.