by Steve Shadow
It was like old home week when we got to Chuey’s apartment. Back slapping, arm punching and a lot of yelling and laughing ensued. Chuey’s wife Rosa and his sisters had cooked up a feast and we all sat down to eat and drink. They had made rice and beans and posole. The smell of fresh tortillas filled the entire house. Chuey had a tub full of iced Bud’s all ready. In the middle of it all Danny and Shelly showed up. They had been shopping for a new cape for Danny to wear at the matches. It was a pretty lively group but due to language problems I ended up talking mostly to Shelly. She was getting a little plastered and starting telling me her problems. Her job didn’t pay much and she was worried about rent being due and the fact that she thought all this wrestling business was a waste of time. She felt that Danny was way past his prime and she was sick of having to work while he dreamt about more wrestling glory while wallowing in the past. I had a hard time finding any sympathy for her considering my own situation but kept this to myself. As she got progressively drunker she started putting her hands all over me. Danny did not seem to notice but Rosa was looking at us with daggers in her eyes. Being a horny bastard who had not been laid in awhile I was getting turned on by her attentions. I had to excuse myself when I felt myself getting aroused and figured this was not what I needed. It was time for me to make a hasty retreat.
I thanked Rosa for the food. Chuey told me that they were going to rehearse the show at a friend’s gym for the next 3 days. Everybody was camping out in Chueys place and I could only imagine what that scene must look like. I walked out avoiding eye contact with Shelly and hoped she would sober up and not cause any trouble.
6
We had not been doing too badly at the Roxy box office that week. It was on Wednesday night when bad luck and trouble showed up. That is when everything took a turn in a very nasty direction.
Chuey was upstairs running the booth and trying to teach Bucky how to operate the projectors. I was in the lobby manning the candy counter when Sandy, our cashier, came running in from the outside box office.
“Jack, Jack, we’ve been robbed!” She was shaking and all the color had drained from her usually rosy teen-aged face
“What? What happened?” I rushed to her side and sat her down. I walked outside and saw that she had locked the ticket booth. When I returned she was crying in Brucie’s arms.
I leaned over her and tried to calm her down. “Are you OK,” I asked. “Tell me what happened.”
She took a deep breath and collected herself. She stopped crying and looked up at me. “This guy, maybe 50 or so, fat, showed me a gun and said to give him all the money. You had just made a pick up so there was only about 50 dollars in the till, which I gave him. He took it and got in a car. It was big and black, like a Caddy or something. I don’t know, they all look alike to me.”
“Never mind the money. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I was more surprised than scared. I just did what you told us to do and handed over the money and didn’t say anything.”
I had an idea this was more of Mort’s shit. I went to my office and called the cops. Within a few minutes a couple of the local patrolmen came by and took statements. One of the cops, Officer Shelby, who I knew pretty well, asked if I wanted a weapon for protection. I asked him what the hell he was talking about. He said if I wanted he could get me a pistol or a shotgun. I told him to just pass by a little more often. It was late at night and we were on the last showing so I just closed everything down. I sent Sandy, who was still pretty shaken, upstairs to wait in the balcony until I could drive her home. I told Chuey and Bucky what happened. Bucky had nothing to say but had trouble looking me in the eye. Shit, just what I needed; more grief from the damned union or mafia or whoever was behind this.
We closed up the theater at midnight. I drove Sandy back to her place at Northwestern University where she was in her first year as a voice major. I had Brucie with me and we stopped at the Gold Coin on the way back to his parent’s house.
“Gee, Jack,” Brucie said after we traded insults with Sophie and ordered. “Should I be worried? I ain’t risking my life for no lousy 5 bucks an hour.”
“No, nothing to worry about; this is my problem. You do what you think is best. I’ll get it straightened out. If you’re that worried then do like I told Sandy. Take a week off, I’ll pay you. By then everything should be cleared up.”
I tried to sound reassuring but I was not sure myself just how deep in the shit I was. If it wasn’t for the upcoming wrestling show I think I would have taken off for parts unknown. I thought I knew what I was doing by making deals with the union but now I had my doubts. These gangster clowns were funny and stupid but they killed people and I did not want to be one of them. After having some pancakes I dropped Brucie off and went to my little apartment off of Bryn Mawr. Try as I might I could not fall asleep. I was worried and afraid. I finally took a downer and nodded off to a troubled sleep. My nightmare, which thankfully, I could not remember, was rudely interrupted by the phone ringing. I looked at the clock. It was 6 in the morning. I picked up the phone.
“Hello? Who the hell is this?”
“Is this Jack Sennett?”
“Yes it is.”
“This is Captain Milovitch with the Chicago Fire Department. We are showing you as the owner of record of the Roxy theater. Is that so?”
“Oh,hell,” I sighed. “What happened?”
“We are at your theater having responded to a fire in progress. It looks like a blaze started accidentally or was intentionally set in your projection booth. We put it out but everything in the booth was destroyed. It will take awhile to determine the cause. You better get down here. You have extensive water damage to the entire balcony and stairway. Also we had to break in and some of your glass lobby doors are busted. We shut down the electricity and the alarms.”
Christ on a crutch. This was really getting serious. Why did I have to go and kick the shit out of Mort. “OK Captain, I’ll be right there. I’m only a few minutes away.”
I hung up and got dressed. I called Chuey who was just about to head out for some roadwork with the wrestlers. “Chuey, get to the theater as soon as possible. Somebody tried to burn it down last night. Un fuego grande, comprende?”
“Si,si, Jack. I come.” He hung up and I headed out the door. Just as I reached for the doorknob, the phone rang again.
“Hello.”
A husky flat voice with a heavy Chicago accent whispered in my ear. “You happy now, Jack? Shit happens when you don’t want to be a good boy. Think you’re getting the message now?”
“What message? I talked to Mr. Jules. I thought everything was cool.”
I heard a long sigh. “Jackie, Jackie, don’t you get it? Nothing is cool unless we say so. Now you be a good little boy and go clean up that crappy hole of a theater you got. We will be in touch with a new business plan. Keep your mouth shut and play dumb about the fire. Stay low until you hear from us. You got that? We clear about things?”
“Yes, Mr. Gangster, I ain’t looking for trouble.” I heard laughter in the background and then the line went dead. I slammed the phone down and kicked my bed. “Shit, shit, shit,” I screamed as I took off down the stairs and sped to the Roxy.
7
When I got to the theater the fire department was already loading up to leave. A crowd of lookee-loo’s had gathered around the front and were being held back by a couple of policemen. I crunched through the glass of the broken doors and entered the lobby. I found the Chief and a few firefighters standing around amidst the water and debris. Two of the local cops were also there and I was told that I had to give them a statement. I introduced myself to the fire people and the Chief told me, in detail, about all the damage. After an inspection tour they left me to handle the disaster. I phoned my insurance company and luckily we were covered. Chuey and his family arrived and after some hand wringing and countless expressions of dismay delivered in rapid-fire Spanish, we set about cleaning things up.
The 35
mm projectors were a total loss. They were relics anyway and almost beyond repair even if we could have salvaged them. I got on the phone to some people who owed me favors and was able to obtain two 16mm units and ordered some prints of old westerns from a local distributor. Chuey and his brothers-in-law, Ernesto and Hector, got the booth in usable condition and linked up the new projectors. The ladies cleaned up the water and we brought in fans to dry out the carpeting and blow out the odor from the smoke. I was lucky and got a glass company to show up immediately and replace the glass in the shattered doors. By the time we were scheduled to open the place was at least usable but I decided to leave the theater closed until next Monday. We had the wrestling matches on Saturday and I wanted to concentrate on that. We changed the marquee to reflect the closing and were preparing to lockup when Bucky showed up early for his evening shift.
We were all standing outside the newly fixed up doors talking to the police. I still had to fill out more reports and the local cops told me they would keep an eye on the place until we reopened. I waved Bucky over.
“Hey, Bucky, you know anything about this?”
“Hell, no,” he said. “What happened? I just come over early to practice on the machines.”
“We had a fire. I think it was set. You sure you ain’t part of this?”
“No, Jack. I only do what I’m told and I was told to come and work here. I ain’t even talked to Jules since I started. If I was you I would be a little more careful about who you accuse of stuff. I already told you that I’m only here for a paycheck; I got nothing to do with your problems.”
I almost had to laugh in his face after that crack.
He looked up at the marquee. “So, no work until Monday, huh? But remember, I get paid no matter what. I hope you ain’t forgetting that.”
I felt like kicking his fat ass but knew better than to start any more trouble. He seemed genuinely surprised at what had happened so maybe he was telling the truth.
“Sure, Bucky, but can you wait until we open on Monday? As you can see we got no income and I had to lay out a bundle for new equipment and to replace the glass in the doors.”
He gave me a long hard stare but nodded his head. I stuck out my hand and we shook on it. “You’re OK, Bucky. I’m glad we can get along.”
He waved me off and said he would see me on Monday. I watched him roll away with his fat man’s waddle and thought about putting a bullet in the back of his head. He knew nothing of the upcoming wrestling matches. I kept that information from everyone as I was afraid that Jules and the mob would want a piece of that also. As it turned out other hands were already looking for a piece of that action; both legal and illegal.
8
The night of the fights was finally here. I was hyped up and anxious to get going. Despite my faith in Chuey and watching the event come together, I still had my doubts. Chuey had taken everyone to the arena in the morning in order to get the ring assembled and for them to rehearse. I ran around making sure all the bunting was in place. The vendors were the responsibility of the arena and we got no part of that revenue. In spite of the arena’s age I thought it looked fairly festive and just hoped we would draw a large crowd and fill the place.
Danny had asked me to stop off and pick up Shelly. He wanted me to bring her along when I came back to the arena for the matches. He said she didn’t want to spend the entire day sitting around a stinking dressing room. I didn’t blame her for that. I remembered vividly the funky odors that seemed to permeate that old building. I was, however, wary of being alone with her. I had my shoulder bag with copies of all our permits and the names and info on all the wrestlers in case the state people wanted to see them. I still found it hard to believe that we had pulled this all together on such short notice. There was no sense in getting ahead of myself but thoughts of being a wrestling mogul swam through my head. Maybe this time one of my wacky endeavors would bear something other than rotten fruit.
I got home and changed into some nicer clothes and drove to Chuey’s. I was greeted by Shelly at the door. She was primed for the evening ahead. She was wearing her usual too tight jeans with a low-hanging top that exposed her ample bust. Before I could say anything I was gathered up in her arms while she planted a juicy kiss on my cheek. She was doused in a sweet smelling perfume, some sort of jasmine that was pretty heady. I stepped back and thought better of saying anything. I just asked if she was ready to go. She complained she was hungry and was sick of the Mexican food that Rosa had in the house. We stopped for a quick bite on the way to the fights. The arena was in a lousy neighborhood and I didn’t think we could find anywhere to eat down there so it seemed like a reasonable idea. I took her to one of my local hang-outs, the A&T diner. I was talking a mile a minute about the coming evening but Shelly seemed bored with the whole thing. She picked at her food and did not say much.
“Hey, what’s the matter; this is a big night. Aren’t you happy to see Danny and Chuey back in the ring again?”
She looked up from her feta and chive omelet. “I seen ‘em already. I seen ‘em too many times. I seen ‘em all over the country and Mexico. I can’t stand the stink of those crummy arenas; they all smell from sweat and piss and spilled beer. Anyway they’re just kidding themselves; they’re too old. Chuey is still thinking he’s 22 and a champion and my idiot husband is going along with this stupid fantasy. His back is already screwed up. He’ll probably break something and then I’ll have an invalid on my hands and I’ll have to find another job. We were just stupid kids when we first got married. In spite of everything that went on in the wrestling game we still managed to make some big bucks. We just blew it all. It wasn’t only Danny’s fault; I wanted the good life and pissed plenty away myself. I’m just sick of it all. It was fun when we were young but shit, I’m 50 years old. I gotta’ think of a future. This wrestling shit is a joke.”
She put down her fork and leaned over the table. “I used to be hot stuff. Danny was always jealous about guys sniffing around. Now, shit, I can’t even get a rise out of a guy like you. I bet you think I’m just some sad old broad who’s over the hill.”
Jesus, this is just what I was afraid of. This is not what I needed on top of all the other problems I had. I had to ignore her self-pity and think fast to keep her happy.
“That’s not true Shelly. You’re a very attractive woman. It’s just that you’re married to Danny. We’re in business together. Hell, if you guys weren’t married I’d be all over you. But we can’t fool around behind Danny’s back. That shit ain’t right and if he found out he would probably kill me.”
She leaned back in the booth and started laughing. “Hey, he doesn’t care what I do. We already made a deal about that. Shit, all he wants to do is sit around, drink beer and watch old 8mm movies of his glory days. I screw who I want and do what I want. I mean I’m all down with for better or for worse but I got to get some better or the worse gets too heavy to handle. So don’t you worry about that crap. As long as we’re down here in the big city I want to have some fun.”
She must have slipped her shoe off because I began to feel her foot snaking its way up my leg and into my crotch. She had an evil little grin on her face as she wiggled her toes in my lap. I reached under the table and pushed her foot away. “Hey, take it easy Shelly. I got a lot on my mind right now. I don’t need this stuff from you. Let’s concentrate on the match tonight and then we’ll see how it goes.”
I gave her a big grin and a wink and hoped she bought it. Her face split into a big smile. She reached across the table and took my hand.
“Aw, don’t be such a drag; I know you’re interested. Let’s have some fun after the fights. Everyone else will be worn out and won’t want to do anything. You’ll see; I know these guys.”
“We planned on a dinner after the matches. The Mexicans have to fly back tomorrow.”
“OK, you’ll see. They won’t want to do anything. Hell, I got to do something. It’s a zoo at Chuey’s. All those bodies all over the place and them M
exican dames lookin’ at me like I was poison.”
“Well we got to go now. I can’t handle this stuff right now. I got other concerns than you’re need to party. Please Shelly, cut me some slack and let me take care of business.”
She frowned but nodded her head and squeezed my hand.
I put down enough money to cover the bill and the tip and we left. Shelly pouted on the way to the arena but I told her to wait until later. Jesus, I could not deal with this stuff right now. I was glad to finally drop her off. I wanted to check in with the state tax people. Chuey had three of his pals working in the box office. The line was out the door and tickets seemed to be going fast.
I walked into the arena and saw that despite its age it looked great with all the people. Colored lights were hung around the seating areas and the spots shone down on the ring. The PA was pumping mariachi music and the beer sales seemed to be going great guns. A lot of family’s were already seated with the kids running all over the place. It looked and sounded like a giant Mexican fiesta.
As I headed out to the lobby I was met by three cops. They stopped me and blocked my way.
“Hey, you the guy in charge here?”
I looked up at a beefy-faced policeman with sergeant stripes on. All the broken capillaries on his face spoke to the amount of booze that he must have consumed on a regular basis. I could smell his breath and knew where this little meeting was going; Chicago cops were a law unto themselves.