by Frank Zafiro
Ania squeezes my hand and I look at her. At this kind of deal, you shouldn’t be thinking what I’m thinking…but damn.
She’s wearing a conservative black dress, a simple gold crucifix necklace and toned down make-up. But damn. She could wear a potato sack and look hot. I look at her some more and swim around in those pale blue eyes for a second. I squeeze her hand back and rub my thumb slowly over hers.
I swear she knows exactly what I’m thinking about. Knows what I’m thinking about, right here in front of God and everybody, if I could get away with it. Right here at my Dad’s funeral.
Jesus. It’s hard to tear my eyes off of hers but I do it and try to think about something else.
St. Anthony is like so many other Catholic churches in Chicago, a three story high ceiling with paintings and clouds up there. Stained glass wherever you look. Gold crosses and Latin. Jesus and Mary everywhere.
I don’t belong here, never did. They use to have to push Mick to church, but with me it was even worse. It was more like dragging my little ass here.
The priest is droning on about something and after we get up from kneeling again, I glance at Mick. He’s in the same pew but down on the other end and he’s staring right the fuck at me.
He could be thinking about those diamond earrings that Dad had told us about. Tell you the truth, that’s about all I’ve been thinking about. Where in the hell were the damn things and how was I going to find them? The old man had been a bittersweet tricky bastard to the end. He told us both about them and that hadn’t been a mistake. Old Gar had always liked fucking with people and that included his two sons.
Then again, Mick might not be looking at me at all. He might be checking out Ania. There is a big part of me that would enjoy the hell out of that. I could only hope he was looking at her and saying ‘what the fuck’? Be jealous like he should be. Have him wish for it but know that I got something he could never get.
Hero boy had never had any luck with the ladies and I always did, simple as that. Rubbing it in was just natural, you know?
I keep staring back at him and the more I do the more I start to believe he’s thinking diamonds.
Mick had always tried to do the right thing, be the good guy, save the day and all that other good shit. But from what I heard, he also had a long string of fucking hard times when he stopped being a cop.
Here’s what I’m thinking. Shit jobs, no women and no cash helps make heroes like my brother here, very unhappy boys. Makes them think about doing things they would never dream of doing normally.
That’s Mick, though. Me, I got shit goin’ on already. I got the money from Patrik and even more coming when I kill that old Russian bastard. But hey, why shouldn’t I get some more with the earrings? Fuck Hero.
I look at the priest now, who’s swinging his incense canister around and the chain on it echoes softly.
I’m not trying to get all deep here but I think I agree with one thing the church preaches. Man is a failed animal. We’re all born with sin. It’s always right there, sometimes on the surface, sometimes down deep. It’s a matter of whether you just go with that and make the best of it, or fight it.
Sooner or later, you sin. You fail. So, I’m thinking Mick has reached that breaking point. I mean, how long can you really keep slinging slop around in the back kitchen of some fucking greasy spoon? No money equals no money, right?
So I can see me maybe playing all nice for awhile. Maybe we’ll even use each other’s help to find those fucking earrings. If so, he’d be planning on a split, no doubt. The fair thing.
Sorry, Mick, but I’ll fuck you over just as sure as I’m sitting here. In the end, I’ll leave you standing there with your dick in your hand like always.
The priest seems to be wrapping this up. Maybe. There’s not too many people here and I’m not sure if anyone is getting up there to say anything or not. I know I’m not. I just don’t know how these things work.
Ma is still blubbering away, so I look away and think about Dad a little. I can’t believe that plain ass casket he’s in. It cost me a small fortune and so did everything else today. It all should be made outta gold for what I paid and it’s not even the good stuff they bury people in.
Down on our knees we go again. I cross myself and look over at Ania.
She’s looking past me now, down the pew. She looks serious, her eyes full of fire. Kind of a ‘what the fuck you looking at’ glare. I follow her gaze over to Mick who turns his eyes back up towards the front.
I’m liking this girl more and more every day. She just knows things instinctively. I told her a little bit about Mick and me earlier, but not that much. I can tell she already don’t like him. She knows he’s a loser.
Then Ania’s ice blues flick back to me with a much softer look. I stare into them again and think about later. Her hip pushes hard against mine.
I look up at the high ceiling and to some who might not know me, it probably looks like I’m praying. To be honest they’d be right. I’m praying for this dentist appointment of a ceremony to be over.
TWELVE
Mick
I went looking for Jerzy and found her instead.
She was all alone at a corner table of the crowded bar, where the after-wake was in full swing. A bright gold crucifix reflected in the dim light of the place. Her pale blue eyes looked up at me with an intensity that I felt straight through to my bones. It was the same fiery look she’d shot down the pew toward me earlier. The thing was, I couldn’t tell for sure if it was hate or desire or something else entirely. I just knew what it did to me.
“Where’s Jerzy?” I asked her.
She continued to look at me, a touch of a smile playing on the corner of her mouth. “He’s around.” She held out her hand. “I’m Ania.”
I reached out. Heat radiated from her fingers when I curled my hand around hers. “I’m Mick,” I told her.
“I know.” She made no move to withdraw her hand. My heart quickened just a little. For a second, I felt like some seventh grader about to ask a girl to dance for the first time ever.
“You know, huh? Jerzy must’ve told you about me, then.” I shook my head. “Don’t believe everything he says.”
She smiled then, and pulled her hand back slowly. “I never believe everything anyone says,” she said. “Keeps me from being disappointed.”
Smart, I thought. Beautiful and smart. What the hell was she doing with Jerzy?
It didn’t matter, though. He’d tire of her after a while, just like all the others. Women were disposable to him, just like empty beer cans. I doubt he ever saw anything special in a woman beyond a nice rack. He was just blind to it. Couldn’t see beyond the physical. That was his weakness.
He sure as hell didn’t know what he had here with this one. Ania. Jesus, even her name was beautiful.
“I’m sorry about your father,” she said, and looking at her, I believed her. She motioned to the chair next to her.
I sat down. “Thanks. We weren’t that close, though.”
“Still, losing a parent is hard. I know. I lost my mother when I was ten.”
“I lost mine when I was young, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. That’s where we put Gar’s ashes in the columbarium there at St. Anthony’s. Right next to hers.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Jerzy didn’t tell me that.”
I shrugged. “Figures. He always resented her.”
She nodded like that made sense, and I suppose in the law of the jungle, it did. “You two weren’t close?”
“Me and my mother?”
“No. You and Jerzy.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “Not really. Maybe sometimes. You know how it is with brothers, right?”
“I had three,” she said. “They beat the shit out of each other all week long but if someone out in the neighborhood so much as looked cross-eyed at any one of them, the other two would throw that guy off a rooftop.”
“Tough neighborhood.”
She shrugged. “Same as anywhere.”
“Yeah, well, Jerzy and I weren’t that tight. After my mother died, I ended up living with the old man, Jerzy and his ma. We didn’t actually fight much. It was more of a cold war, you know?”
“Frosty times at the kitchen table?”
“Yeah, mostly. The old man had left my mother for Jerzy’s ma, though he always claimed it was the other way around and that she threw him out. Either way, there was some resentment both ways because of that.”
“I bet.”
“Plus I was older, so Jerzy was always trying to prove he was tougher.”
“Was he?” Her eyes had a playful spark to them.
I smiled a little. “He thought so.”
“And you two never really found out, huh?”
“Nope.”
“Not yet, anyway.”
“Not yet,” I agreed.
We sat and stared at each other for a long moment. I didn’t know for sure what this woman was up to, but when she looked at me with those pale blue eyes, I didn’t care.
After a few moments, she broke the trance. “Jerzy said you were a cop.”
My stomach burned a little. “Yeah. For a little while. It didn’t work out.”
“Did you throw someone off a rooftop or something?”
“Nothing so grand.”
“Not like my brothers, then.”
“No.” I paused. “There was one time that was kind of like that, though.”
“On the force?”
“No, I mean with Jerzy and me. The brothers thing.”
She nodded but said nothing.
“We were both teenagers at the time,” I told her. “I must’ve been maybe fifteen or sixteen, so Jerzy was closer to twelve or thirteen. We went to different schools at the time. I was coming home late one day after school and came across him surrounded by four kids in an alley.”
“Robbing him?”
I shrugged. “To this day, I don’t know. But they were in a circle around him and were shoving him back and forth. Of course, he was going to take on all four of them at once.”
“That sounds like Jerzy.”
“Yeah, well, it was stupid. These kids were closer to my age than his and they weren’t posers from Rochester Heights out slumming or something. These were neighborhood kids, and tough.”
“So what happened?”
“About the time I saw what was going on, the fists started flying. I didn’t even think about it. I just ran down the alley and waded in. They managed to land a couple on him and get him to the ground, so when I got there, they were kicking him.”
“And you rescued him.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Pretty much. I had surprise on my side, so the first one didn’t see it coming. Jerzy had already caught one of them in the nose before they got him down, so that kid was out of commission. The other two must’ve seen what I was bringing because they turned tail and ran.”
“Like Batman you were,” she teased.
“Hey, it was four on one. That’s bullshit. Plus…”
“Plus he’s your brother.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “You get it.”
“Of course I do. I had three brothers, remember?” She smiled warmly at me. “That must be why he calls you Hero.”
“Among other reasons.”
“I’m surprised that didn’t bring you two closer,” she said. “Trial by battle and all that other shit.”
I shook my head. “Actually, it had the opposite effect. He hated me after that for some reason.”
She raised an eyebrow slightly. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why. Maybe he resented the fact that I had to save his ass. He always had a problem admitting he wasn’t the baddest man in the world, even as a kid.”
She nodded slightly. “I can see that.” Her eyes drifted up and past my shoulder and she smiled a sultry smile. “Hey.”
I turned and saw Jerzy towering over me. I thought he might throw a punch right there for me sitting at his table talking to his girl, but he didn’t. Instead, he had this curious, self-satisfied smile on his face.
“You met Ania, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Fuckin’ beautiful, ain’t she?”
I nodded but said nothing.
Jerzy waved me toward the door. “C’mon, Hero. Let’s talk.” Then he turned and strode away.
I looked back at Ania. Her eyes still smoldered, but now they were on me. “Thanks for the conversation,” I managed to say, then stood.
“Anytime, Mick,” she said. “I’m glad we finally met.”
I cleared my throat. “Me, too.”
Then I turned and followed Jerzy out onto the street.
He stood, rubbing his hands together and blowing onto them. “Colder than a witch’s tit, huh?”
I pulled my jacket closer around me and thrust my hands into my pockets. Jerzy gave the motion a wary glance, then smiled. “Never thought I’d see the day,” he said.
“What day?”
“The Sawyer brothers, standing outside a bar together, shooting the shit.”
His tongue was a little loose. I could tell he’d been slamming them away since the funeral. I’d had a couple of shots myself, but they seemed to draw me into a better focus rather than muddy things up. It wasn’t what I’d wanted, but I was glad for it now.
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked him, getting to the point.
“Aw, come on,” he said. “You know.”
I stared at him and said nothing. If he had a hand to play, let him play it.
“Aw, Christ, Mick. You’re such a tight ass sometimes. You should loosen up.”
“You got something to say or not? Because, if not, I’m leaving—”
“To go where? Huh, Mick? To go where? Back to some shit ass small apartment? To sling hash at some dive? What good is that?”
“Fuck you,” I flared at him. “Mind your own business.”
He laughed. “Atta kid. Show some fire.”
I thought about hitting him right there. He was drunk enough not to expect it. And I was faster. I’d be hitting him the third time before he felt the first one.
How’d that be for some goddamn fire, Punk?
Instead, I stood still and waited for him to finish. Because he was right. I did know where he was going with this.
“Thing is,” he said, “I believe the old man. What he said about the earrings. Do you?”
I nodded shortly. “He had no reason to lie.”
“Not that he ever needed a reason, the old man.” Jerzy laughed. “Still, what he said sounded legit. And you know why he told us both, right?”
“Could be he wanted us to work together to find the diamonds.” I shrugged. “Or knowing the old man, maybe he wanted us to kill each other.”
Jerzy laughed some more, this time more deeply. “Either we make like the fuckin’ Hardy Boys or like Cain and Abel. Which do you figure he was hoping for?”
I shrugged. “Six-five and pick ‘em.”
“Yep.” Jerzy paused, considering. Then he said, “I figure, fuck what the old man wanted, right? I say we find those earrings. Pay back those guys who fucked him over, then sell the ice. What do you say? You and me. Even split.”
I regarded him for a while. He stood easily, that confident, smartass expression on his face. There was an edge there, too. Always the edge. I wondered if I could trust him.
No. Not unless he needed me.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why partners?”
He raised his large hands and waved my words away. “Let’s not get carried away, Hero. ‘Partner’ is a strong word. Maybe it wasn’t for cops, but it is in my world.”
I shrugged. “Call it whatever you want. Why, though?”
Jerzy reached up and scratched the stubble coming in on his chin. “I figure it this way. Maybe the old man is full of shit and
he just wants to send us on a wild goose chase, y’know? So he can laugh his ass off from the great beyond.”
“Could be.”
“Exactly.” He pointed at me. “But you probably still have some connections on the cops. You could ask and find out what they’re saying really happened.”
“You’re not back with Patrik?”
Jerzy scowled. “What the fuck do you care about my business?”
“I’m just saying that if you’re back with Patrik, you can’t tell me he doesn’t have connections inside the department.”
Jerzy stared at me, considering. Finally, he said, “Even if I was with Patrik, there’s two problems with using his connections. One, it’d make the cops suspicious. And two—”
“You’d have to share with Patrik.”
Jerzy glared at me. “You’re so fucking smart, why’d you ask the question?”
“Just figuring out where things stand,” I said.
Jerzy didn’t say anything for a long while, then he sighed. “Look, we gotta trust each other a little bit here.”
“Clearly.”
“You’ve got connections still, right?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe,” he repeated, then shook his head. “Okay, be a cagey motherfucker, then. All I’m saying is that a son asking after some shit that happened with his dad is a lot less suspicious than some outfit guy asking his department mole. This way, we keep the diamonds off of everyone’s radar. ‘Cept ours.”
I considered. His logic made sense, so I nodded my agreement. “What’s your part?”
He smiled. “I find Jimmy and Speedo. Get a little information there. Maybe some justice for the old man.”
I swallowed. We were at a crossroads. I could keep walking down the road I was on, eking out a living at Eddie’s place or I could make a play here. One shot at enough bank to break out of this town and go start over somewhere else. Somewhere fresh. Maybe with someone special.
Jerzy was watching me. He wasn’t usually patient, but the liquor seemed to make him lay back a little. He waited, rocking slightly on his heels and blowing onto his cold fingers.