Brooklyn 1975

by Robert Moeller

  Maybe, she was off her rocker. I mean, here she was just getting off the couch after like five years, or something, and suddenly she wants to go out to dinner.

  “I just mean you haven’t done much lately. You haven’t been up much lately, is all I’m saying.”

  “I haven’t missed anything, I just didn’t have the energy…” She said. “I was here.”

  “I’m not saying you missed anything, just maybe take things slow, you know, nice and easy.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe standing up is a waste of time.” She said, sitting back down on the couch. “And what, get excited about that fuck coming home after all this time? What am I?”

  “Hey. That’s not what I meant.” I said, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her back up. “That’s not what I’m saying. I mean, just take things slow.”

  “Where’s your sister?” She asked, almost seeming like she was drunk.

  “I don’t know, probably still at work.”

  “What’s she doing now?”

  “See, this is what I’m saying. You have some catching up to do. Maybe, your forgetting stuff too. She works over in the city, you know, at Macy’s on Thirty-Fourth St. She’s been doing that since high school, her and Baba. You know the fat girl?”

  She was looking at me like I was someone she just met.

  “Look, I’m going to take a nap, I’m beat.” I said. “Just relax, will you, Rainie will be home soon, depending on the trains.”

  While we were talking Rainie came home. She was carrying a shopping bag and was all sweaty. She looked like she had run all the way home from the train station. “Hey, here’s the Miracle on Thirty-Fourth St. What’s with you?” I said.

  “What?” She said, putting the bag down on the couch. “Hi, Ma.”

  “You’re soaking wet.” I said.

  “The trains were like really crowded. We were packed in there like sardines.” She said.

  “Guess what?” I said.

  “What? Wait, tell me in a minute, I have to pee.” She said, and went off to the bathroom.

  “You want to tell her?” I asked my mother.

  “No, you tell her. And be nice, will you.”

  I sat on the end of the couch wondering how she was going to react to the news that our father, Dad, was coming home from jail. Dad, what a joke! Because he wasn’t like most of the Dad’s I saw on television, I’ll say that. But let Rainie think what she wanted, let her be her big-hearted, good-natured self. I mean, this is a woman that thought Melo wasn’t all that bad a guy.

  Which reminded me. Melo was dead. The smart thing was to just forget he ever existed and not say anything. Just pretend he moved away, or something. No way I’m telling her what I saw, never.

  When she came back from the bathroom I started in again. “Guess what?”

  “Enough with the surprises, already, I’m tired and hot. What?” She said.

  “Guess who’s coming home from jail?” I asked. I realized living were we lived that maybe too broad a question. I mean, it could be a hundred people.”

  “What, I’m keeping track of people’s jail time now, who?”

  “You don’t want to guess? Could be a guy you know.” I said.

  I could see she was thinking about by the way she crinkled up her face. “Some guy I used to like?” She asked.

  “Maybe.” I said. “Definitely something like that.”

  “Donnie Gregory? He’s getting out already?”

  My mother lit a cigarette and I huffed a light off of her match. I shook my head no. “Nope, not that I know of anyway.”

  “All right already. Tell her, will you.” My mother was getting cranky with the game already.

  “Who?” Rainie asked.

  “Who.” I mimicked her. “Who do you think?”

  She looked at my mother. “No. “ She squealed. “No.”

  My mother was nodding her head and Rainie ran to her and hugged her. “Oh, know. I can’t believe it.” She said. “When did you hear?”

  “I just got a letter from him. He’ll be on parole but he’s coming home.” My mother said.

  “We’ll have to go out and celebrate.” Rainie said, sort of jumping up and down. “Do something special.”

  Call me a killjoy if you want but I said it anyway. “Celebrate what?”

  Both of them just looked at me, and both of them were glaring at me too.

  “What are talking about, celebrate what?” Rainie said. “Your father is coming home. What’s your problem?”

  “Oh, right, my father is coming home. This is the same guy that wasn’t around to see my first football game, the same guy that missed me graduating from junior high. You want me to keep going, or what. I mean, I can if you want. This is the same guy that left Ma just sitting her all this time. What the fuck else did he miss, everything, I mean, did I miss something?”

  My mother just looked at me before going to her room. She didn’t look angry or anything, just hurt.

  “Ma.” Rainie yelled at her back. “Where are you going?” But my mother disappeared behind a closing door.

  “See what you did.” Rainie said.

  “What did I do beside tell the truth. I’m supposed to be happy about this? What’s he going to do, come home and start telling me what to do like I’m ten years old, huh? I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll laugh in his face before telling him to go fuck himself.”

  “Why are you being like that?” Rainie said. “She’s excited. At least be happy for her. Look, I feel kind of the same way, but what are you going to do? Tell me? I mean, he wasn’t there for me either. I’m not holding it against him. Look, he’s our father.”

  “Our father, who art in heaven. I’ve heard that before somewhere. Fuck this.” I said, slamming my cigarette into the ashtray.

  “Hey, this is for her. Pretty soon we won’t be living here anymore, you know what I’m saying. This gives her a chance again. Don’t be, like, selfish. Think about her.”

  I guess Rainie was right. Or maybe, more right than I was. So much had happened lately that maybe I wasn’t thinking straight. You know, my brain was all tilted. Still, the idea of this fucking Mickey Mouse excuse for a father coming home now bothered me. I mean, I wasn’t even curious about what he looked like anymore. He went his way and we went ours. We dealt with it, now so should he.

  But what Rainie said about my mother made sense. This was something to her. What exactly, I don’t know, but something. Maybe she was brain-damaged, or something. Maybe, she cracked up just sitting here all these years. Anyway, I couldn’t think about it anymore and did what I do best, I went to bed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next week there I was sitting in the parking lot of Sing-Sing, which was a prison up there on the Hudson River eating egg sandwiches with Junior and waiting for my father to be released. Junior was wearing a suit because he said that it showed respect for a guy that did his time, I was wearing shorts and a tee shirt because I really just didn’t give a fuck.

  “Would you look at this place?” Junior said. “Pretty amazing.”

  “What’s amazing? I asked.

  Just look at it. The thing stretches right out into the river. It’s huge.”

  We were sitting in Angela’s little Datsun, which she let me borrow for the day. I looked up and could see a guard pacing back and forth in a tower right in front of us. He had a rifle slung across his arms. “Look.” I said. “They’re not fucking around.”

  “Yeah, he’s a big man up there but I’d like to catch him on the street, I’d give him a real beating, I’m telling you.” Junior said.

  “What are you talking about? What did he ever do to you?”

  “I’m just saying. Like, on principle. You know, pick a side, all ready. He’s a tough guy in there but what about out here? What’s he going to do?”

  “You don’t know shit about the guy. Maybe, he’s all right, not a prick.”

  Junior waved the idea off like it was impossible. “Does your father
know we’re waiting out here?”

  “Yeah, he talked to my mother yesterday, she told him we were coming.”

  “I hear that if you’re connected in there, things are pretty good. They even bring food up from the city.” He rubbed his fingers together. “The wheels are greased from the outside, know what I’m saying.”

  ‘You’re still in jail.” I said.

  “Cost of doing business.”

  “Listen to you, all Bugsy Siegel, and shit.”

  “He was a Jew.”

  “Whatever. You know what I’m saying.”

  “Seriously, it can be cushy in there doing time if you’re connected. It’s like part of the program, like a benefit.”

  “And what part of the program did Big Mike benefit from, huh? And you’re not careful you’ll be next. You think these guys actually care about shit like that? If you do, you’re kidding yourself, I’m telling you. It’s all a crock a shit. You think my father has been in the eating sandwiches from Mott St. all these years? You know, maybe some pasta, some nice gravy… Come on, you’re fucking deluding yourself.”

  “I said if you’re connected. Your father was just working an angle. He wasn’t part of the bigger picture. You do stuff like that and you’re on your own. You know that. You come up here after a thing like that and you’re just another guy.”

  “Man, what a pleasure, just to be another guy. I’m telling you that’s all I want these days, just give me some normal shit, some normal everyday absolutely boring shit. Something that doesn’t involve people getting whacked left and right, and something that doesn’t involve picking your father up from Sing-Sing like your picking him up after work, or some shit. I just want to be lying on the beach eating knishes and drinking beer.”

  “Too early in the morning for knishes, what are you talking about? A beer, I can have anytime, but the knishes in the morning, forget about it.” With that, Junior stuck about half an egg sandwich in his mouth and started pointing. I didn’t understand what he was saying but followed his finger as it jabbed the air.

  It was my father walking toward us.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Have you ever not seen someone for a long time? I mean, like since you were a kid. It sort of changes everything, I’m telling you. If I didn’t see Rainie or Junior for the next ten years I’d still recognize them first thing. It would take like a second. But this guy walking toward the car, carrying a shopping bag was like a complete stranger.

  He was wearing a button-down short sleeve shirt and black pants and he was about my size except he was bigger, more muscular. His hair was slicked back with some kind of grease and he had a long scar under his left eye that trailed down over cheek. Something, some impulse was pulling me out of the car. “Go ahead.” Junior said, “It’s your father.”

  I got out of the car and stood there, waiting for him to walk up. He was looking at me and smiling.

  “You who I think you are?” He said.

  “What do you think, I’m up here looking at the river, or something?” I said.

  When he was next to me he put the shopping bag down and shook my hand. It was awkward at first and then he hugged me. I mean really squeezed me tight. “I missed you.” He said. “I really, really, did.” When I looked at him there were tears in his eyes.

  “I missed you too.” I said, trying to sound like I meant it. But in some weird way, I did mean it. Now that he was standing next to me, Oh, I don’t know, I just did.

  “How’s you mother and sister?” He asked.

  “They’re good, they’re home waiting. Rainie took the day off from work. “

  “And your mother, how is she?”

  “Holding up I guess.”

  “Who’s that in the car? Is that Little Junior?”

  “He’s not so little anymore.” I said.

  “And neither are you. Look at you. You look good. Have you been behaving yourself?” He asked.

  I nodded. “Doing the best I can.”

  “Is that good enough?”

  “Most of the time.”

  “You don’t want to end up here.” He said, pointing back at the prison. “You watch your step.”

  “You out for a couple of seconds and already you’re breaking my balls.” I said.

  “I’m just saying. What are you a tough guy now? You need to go a few rounds with me right here?”

  “Maybe later.” I said. “Come say hi to Junior.”

  I waved to him and he got out of the car. “How you doing?” He asked.

  “Jesus, you two are getting big. I remember when you both were little squirts. Come here, you.” He said to Junior, and hugged him too. “Oh, what the fuck?”

  “What?” Junior said.

  “You come strapped, you crazy?” Now he was looking at me and I was looking at Junior. So anyway, the first thing that my father and I did together after he got out of jail was shaking our heads at Junior. “Hey, you never know, right? You never can be too careful.”

  “You can never be too smart either. What if one of these fuck-heads walking around here decided to pat you down, huh? What, then?

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think of that.” Junior said.

  “Let’s get out of here before they do.” My father said. “All I need right now is to be back in there.”

  “I drove off with my father sitting next to me and Junior in the back seat. “When did you get your license?” He asked me.

  I shrugged. “I didn’t. I just borrowed my girlfriend’s car and came up here, you know, to pick you up.”

  “What, you two are like Bonnie and Clyde now? Jesus H fucking Christ!”

  “I always thought they were Barnie and Clyde.” Junior said. “Like two guys instead of a woman and man. I mean it makes sense. What are going to do, drag a woman around while you’re robbing banks?”

  “Is this the knucklehead taxi service, or what?” My father said.

  “You can walk back to Brooklyn if you want.” I said. “We’ll let you out.”

  Junior smacked the back of my seat. “Hey, that’s your father there.”

  I pretended to look around like I wasn’t seeing anything. “Where? Where?” We all laughed and drove back to the city feeling pretty good without saying much.

  Did I forget to mention that the garbage men were on strike? And the city was lined with trash piled as high as the parking meters? I mean every square inch of the sidewalk near the curb was piled with trash. “Man, it’s starting to stink.” Junior said. “Really stink.”

  I see not much has changed.” My father said. “I was reading about this in the paper.”

  “Reading about it and smelling it are two different things.” I said. I looked over at my father and he seemed lost in some daydream or something. “You want to stop? Get something, a cold beer? Some pizza, something?” I asked him.

  “Yeah, park somewhere. Let’s walk around. It’ll be nice to just walk around without someone looking over my shoulder.”

  I had some money for him, not much, fifty bucks, to hold him over. “Here, you walking around, you need walking around money.” I said, passing him the bills.