Brooklyn 1975

by Robert Moeller

  Chapter Fifteen

  So, like I was saying, I basically stayed in for a week, or so. And like I said, Angela came over the house, I ate a lot, and sort of regained my strength. Betty came over, too, and gave my last cut from selling the weed at school. It came to five hundred dollars. Not bad for lying in bed all week, right? Junior, I talked to him a couple of times, but it was just the usual shit. I still hadn’t figured everything out so I wasn’t ready to talk to him about anything. It was like those shows, right? Like Perry Mason, or something. You needed to have all the facts before you started asking questions. I know that those three guys Vito sent to kill Melo were duped, or some shit. But that was mob stuff and strictly off-limits to even think about. Vito must have had people waiting there to kill them. Then, they turned around and grabbed Melo when he came running out of the bar. You know how that ended, right? So we were right there in the middle of four people getting whacked thanks to Junior. At least, I think so, anyway.

  So maybe, it looks like Vito’s wasn’t involved and the guy that was involved is dead. See what I’m saying? What are you going to do, kill his family or something? Who knows anyway with all this grease-ball-shit.

  And the reason I know this because Little Vito was shooting his mouth off to Angela. You know, like a tough guy. “We’re taking care of this, making our move, you watch.”

  What it all meant, who cares. I know that it complicated my life and I wanted out from under it. The funny thing is I didn’t feel any guilt or remorse even though five people were dead in a heartbeat. Six, if you count that kid running off the roof. Maybe, I was dead inside myself? Maybe, I was incapable of feeling things. And maybe, I was doomed to just sit there like my mother did, lost in a gloom so thick that you could barely see her.

  Then, out of the blue, Erica called. “I’ve been thinking of you.” She said.

  “Me, too. I’ve been thinking about myself, too.”

  “Very funny.” She said.

  “Trust me, its not that funny. I think I’m depressed.” Somehow I decided it was better to talk about me than talk about us.

  “What’s with all this stuff going on?” She asked. “People are getting shot all over the place.”

  “Don’t ask me.” I said. “I don’t have a gun.” And the minute I said it, I realized I did have a gun and it was under my bed.

  “I miss you.” She said.

  “I miss you too.” It wasn’t like I was lying. I did miss her. I mean I liked her. I just didn’t know how to like her in a way that was good for her. Maybe that was my problem in a nutshell. “I really do.”

  “You see anyone?” She asked, sounding confident. I knew that right behind the confidence was tears if I said the wrong thing. So I told he no.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “That’s what I’m sort of calling about. I wanted you to hear it from me first.”

  “Hear what?” I said, beginning to get angry.

  “I’m seeing someone.”

  “Who? Who is it? Tell me.”

  “Jeremy Glock. He’s a senior at school.”

  “The kid with the nice car. That pussy!” I said.

  “He’s not a pussy. And why are you upset? You broke up with me.”

  She was right, of course. But I was upset. Not that I’d had much time to think about things but now that I was I realized that my feeling were hurt. Fuck that, I was angry.

  “Does he know you were with me? Does he know who I am?” I was sounding like Junior did, not myself.

  “What are you going to do? Beat him up. For what, going out with me after you broke up, you broke up with me. What do you own me for the rest of my life, or something?”

  “I know, that’s stupid, I’m sorry, I mean, it just caught me by surprise. I’m sorry I got angry. That kid, what’s his name, he a good kid. Plus, he’s really smart, right, and gets good grades. It’s just all this shit happens so fast, you know what I’m saying.”

  “Yeah, he’s going to college next year.”

  “That figures.” I said, trying to make it sound like I wasn’t saying, “That figures.”

  “You sure you’re not seeing anyone?” She asked. “I heard…”

  “Forget what you heard. Trust me, I’m not. People say whatever…”

  “I mean, I’m fine with it if you are. I still care about you and everything. You’ll always be special. I mean, I know you can go out with just about anyone you want.”

  “Except you.” I said. “Look, I got to go. My mother needs something.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I ran into Mrs. Nussbaum and she said you were working on something for her, for like some special extra credit thing. If you need any help just give me a call.”

  “What you’ll come right over, Jeremy give you a ride, or something. Maybe, the both of you can help me.”

  “Oh, stop it. Don’t be a bigger dick than you already are.” She said.

  I had to laugh. “You’re right. And you know something else, Erica.”

  “What?” She asked. “Tell me.”

  “You’re the best.” I said. And I really meant it, or at least I think I did.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Still for the life of me I couldn’t figure out just what Junior was doing. I mean, I knew deep down that he wasn’t screwing me but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t using me to get something he wanted. And I knew that more than anything he wanted to be connected. You know, mobbed up. That shit was in his chromosomes, you know, like his balls. Me, I was different. Maybe, it was only because I didn’t know what I wanted. It was just easier to go with the flow. You know what I’m saying? I mean, Erica always had a plan, always was thinking ahead. Even in her binder for school, she wrote reminders to herself and reminders to herself about things I had to do. She was an expert at breaking my balls, I’m telling you. I mean, I know she wasn’t breaking my balls but that’s what it felt like, like she was clanging them with a hammer. Ding, fucking dong… day after day…

  Anyway, I knew Junior was working both sides of the street. Doing this and that for the local wise guys at the Motor Service and also helping Vito with whatever that was all about. And trust me, I had no idea what it was about, even though I did.

  Then, there was this other thing bothering me, which was when you know everything concerning something, you can’t help but think that everyone knows that something too. I’m not sure I’m making sense but I was thinking mainly about the cops. I mean, they’re a joke but sooner or later, if they’re sniffing around about these murders someone was going to say something. I mean, the wise guys were pretty tight-lipped, they had to be, but someone else might get shaken down, you know pinched for something and spit up a little information looking for a break. Not that I did anything wrong, or at least I didn’t whack anyone. Still, I was in the middle of some serious shit with some very serious people. You could say, like the saying goes, I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Except you couldn’t escape the place, since you lived there, and as for the time, well let’s just say it was wrong every minute of the every day.

  Not that I’m complaining or anything. In some ways, I was wired for this shit. I mean, maybe not this shit, which was pretty extreme, but the usual stuff. You take your bumps and bruises living here. You sort of get used to it. If it all starts to sound like a sob story, you should move, move to the Island, or something. Hey, the city isn’t for everyone, right?

  The thing is I was beginning to think that Junior was going to end up getting us whacked. He was just too… I don’t know what the word is. Too…

  Look, the grease balls got their thing and it’s never about what you think it is. Sure, it’s a business but it’s more than that. It’s about honor and tradition, grudges that go back to Sicily, and all this other shit. Most of it is just crap, but the point is that you never can be sure what’s going on. Like in Vito’s case, is he making a move, or just cleaning house? You know what I’m saying? He might just be pretending to make a move just to see where h
e stands, and who’s standing next to him. It’s like a test to see who his real friends are.

  Or, maybe he is making a move. Maybe it’s real. You know, like a power grab. It happens, not a lot, but it happens. Usually, ten or twenty guys get whacked in the process but everything shakes out. Either the person making the grab wins or he’s dead. The wise guys don’t like this shit because it draws attention to them and hurts business but it’s tolerated like the way a corporate shake-up is. You see what I’m saying? Things can’t get stale. Sooner or later, the younger guys, like Vito, they have to put their hands in someone’s pocket. That’s just how it works. Listen to me, I sound like Junior.

  Speaking of which, I’m standing on the corner waiting for him. I’m smoking like my third cigarette and suddenly a car pulls up and Junior gets out. I bend down and look in to see you driving and it is Dom the Clip, the guy that runs The Motor Service, he sort of waves at me and scowls at the same time before driving off.

  “How you feeling?” Junior asks.

  “I’m fine.” I say.

  “I was worried about you.”

  “Yeah, if you were why didn’t you come over?” I said. The tone of my voice was kind of pissy-sounding.

  “You know, check on me.”

  “I was busy with some shit. You know, setting something up for us.”

  “Like what? More weed, something like that?”

  He goes, “What are you a girl now, all these questions, breaking my balls.”

  “How am I breaking your balls, we’re just here talking.”

  “You’re acting like I’m not on your team, or something. What the fuck?”

  I looked at him. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “On my team?”

  “What, I have to explain everything for you.” He lifted his shirt and looked down out at the gun tucked in his pants.”

  “What, I’m supposed to be impressed?” I lifted my shirt and showed him that I was packing too. It just occurred to me as I was leaving the house, I don’t know why. I just turned around and got the gun and took it.

  “We’re like armed for bear.” Junior said. Then he got quiet. “Why you carrying that thing?”

  “I guess I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?”

  “I was just doing something for Dom, taking a ride with him.”

  “You crack me up, and not in a good way. You’re talking to Vito and doing whatever you’re doing and then you’re riding around with Dom. Who’s side are you on? You know those guys are always at each other’s throats.”

  “I’m still young, seeing where I fit in.”

  “You’ll fit in a box if you’re not careful.” I said. “And you might end up dragging me into it if you’re not careful.”

  “Stop whining, will you.” He said. “We’re like this.” He held two fingers up in the air like the peace sign except they were close together.

  “And I’m like this.” I gave him the finger. “You going to tell me what you’re up to?” I asked.

  “Nope. Why should I? You’re good where you are, right? I mean, what do you need to know? I’m taking care of both of us, trust me.”

  “Oh, this is how you take care of me. I’m a fucking wreck here. Smoking nonstop and every time I turn around someone is getting killed. Or better yet, they’re getting killed somewhere else and than brought to me. I mean, what the fuck.”

  “Melo got what he deserved.” Junior said. “You know that. The guy was a fucking menace.”

  “What about those three guys from Vito? You helped set them up, didn’t you? You just like showed up outside my house. I talked to Rainie, she didn’t talk to you, you didn’t call or nothing. You knew because you were already talking to Vito, right? Right?”

  Junior looked at the ground. “What do you want me to say, huh? I’m not going to stand here and lie to you.”

  “Oh, really? What’s changed?”

  “ Did Betty give you your cut?” He asked. “I sent him over there.”

  “You changing the subject?”

  “No, I’m just asking. By the way, he wants a bigger cut himself next time, says he’s been running things at school while we’re off doing whatever.”

  “Sounds fair.” I said.

  “Yeah, I already gave it to him.”

  “So, why you checking with me?” I said.

  “ I’m just trying to change the subject.” He laughed and I almost joined him but lit another cigarette instead.

  “Look, I’m trying to move up, that’s all. I know we’re making good money now but what am I going to be doing in a couple years, running weed at the high school? That shit is getting old. I need to move up, see what I’m saying. Vito might give me that chance.”

  Than why are you riding around with Dom the Clip?” I asked.

  “Let’s not get into it. I just can’t be talking about this shit, not even to you. Everything is on a need to know basis.”

  “You setting him up?” I asked. “Just like you set up those guys at The Pump?”

  “Hey, watch your mouth. Those guys were getting clipped anyway. It was just a question of when. This thing with Melo came up, then you and Angela, then she’s talking to Vito, and Vito figures it all out. Those guys didn’t know shit, thought they were whacking someone. So what if I helped Vito pull it off, big deal. Oh, I almost forgot, here’s two- fifty, Vito threw me five hundred for helping out.” He handed me the money. “That’s a lot of groceries for your house, right?”

  I took the money and held it in my hand shaking it at him. “We didn’t sign up for this shit.”

  “Look, you don’t want it, I’ll take it. Its just business, plus, you don’t need to do anything. I’ll always give you a cut. And if things work out, I’ll give you and Betty the school, no problem. How’s that bad?” He asked.

  “I’m thinking I just might get a job or something, something in the city. Maybe, get a cheap place over there. You know, get out of here.”

  “Yeah, you could be my guy in the city, something like that.”

  “Fuck it, I’m not your guy anywhere. Can’t you see this stuff is fucking me up? I mean, isn’t that obvious? What do I have to do, bang you over the head with the idea?”

  And while I’m saying it, I realize that he was never gong to get it. He couldn’t. It wasn’t in him to understand. He was one way and I was the other. It was that simple. The truth was that Junior was already every bit the wise guy as someone like Vito was. I mean, he wasn’t up there yet but he was on his way. He was a natural, everything rolled off of his back; and that, and the fact that he is fearless. He just accepted everything – the good and the bad. Nothing bothered him. It was like he had this shell, or something. I mean, he wasn’t a hard guy yet, but you could kind of see the crust forming. He just didn’t care about what other people cared about. He was in his own little world and I could see that the ways in which we intersected were diminishing. Part of that made me sad, he was my best friend, and parts of it scared me. Or at least made me nervous.

  Never mind the fact that he wasn’t like, “What do you mean, moving to the city?” It was like he was relieved or something. Like already he was wishing I was gone. Maybe, he felt bad, or something, and didn’t want me to see just exactly where he was heading.

  Can someone leave you behind even if they’re traveling in the wrong direction?

  That left me having to look at myself and that wasn’t any picnic. I mean, I was almost eighty-five percent like him. The average person couldn’t tell us apart. I mean, here we were standing on the corner, both of us strapped… But that was just for starters. We kind of looked the same, dressed alike, and both of us talked in these thick accents that marked us as hoodlums anywhere else but Brooklyn. We weren’t like these new punk rockers, or anything, we were punks. We started fights, stole anything that wasn’t tied down, and treated the simplest things required of us, like school, as a stupendous burden.