by Steve Shadow
“OK, Chuey, never mind that. It looks like we’re in business. I’m going home now and get some more sleep. We have to get the theater open tomorrow. You and Ernesto and Hector come in early, around eleven. We have to make sure everything is all set up and working properly. Bucky should be there around noon. And remember to not say anything about the wrestling to anyone. We got enough problems with the Mob. Shit, maybe we should dump the movie theater and all move to Mexico. We could do the matches there, couldn’t we? You got the connections.”
Chuey got a serious look on his little round face. “No Jack, no is a good idea. Here is many bad men but in Mexico is many more. Here we can all make money, take care of the family and no too much worry. In Mexico is no like that. You have no sure for anything. You pay the police, the politicos, you pay everyone and that still mean nothing. Is better we stay here. I know; you listen to Chuey. That is why I bring family here.”
“Whatever you say, little man. You are El Jefe for the wrestling. We do it your way. Hasta manana, Chuey. And next time Danny and Shelly come here I’ll put them in a hotel.”
I think he was happy to hear that and I know Rosa was even happier. I drove home and parked my car in my designated spot under the building. I got out and headed to the back entrance. It was blocked by two men who were almost as wide as they were tall.
“Excuse me fellas,” I said as I tried to maneuver around them. One of them grabbed my arm.
“Jack, we been waiting for you. Where you been?”
“Who the hell are you two? Or maybe I can guess. How many questions do I get?”
“You know who we are so don’t play the wise guy.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “I talked to Mr. Jules. What the hell else do you want?”
“Well Mr. Jules seen the place was closed and wondered about his investment. Thought maybe you was trying to pull something.”
“What investment are you two bozo’s talking about? I’m the one with the investment. I only pay because I got no choice. After the fire that little ass-kisser Mort set we had to clean up and let the smoke smell dissipate. So I kept the place closed until tomorrow. I told Bucky all about it, so what’s the problem?”
“Like we said, Mr. Jules is just looking out for business. There shouldn’t be any secrets between partners.”
“Jesus, there you go again. We ain’t partners, we ain’t anything but me trying to run a legit business and you guys squeezing me dry. Now get the fuck away from me or I’ll just close the damn place up and you two geniuses can run it.”
I attempted once again to get around them but they each took an arm and held me between them.
“Just so you don’t forget who the boss is,” the florid faced goon on my right said in my ear. “You don’t want to see us again. Next time won’t be so social, you know what I mean, dick head?”
He wound up and hit me in the stomach. I crumpled like a rag doll. I was writhing on the concrete trying to stem the pain.
The guy who hit me leaned over and spoke in my ear. “You got any problems just remember we know where to find you. For your information, in case you want to call the cops and press charges, I am Joey “Jamook” Bastiani. My cordial pal here is Rocko “Bazoops” Puglios. You want I should write that down for you so when you call the cops they make sure they got the right guys?”
I shook my head through the stars I was seeing.
“OK, asshole; that’s what I thought. Have a nice day.”
They left me there on the concrete. I was still trying to catch my breath. I tried to keep from throwing up my breakfast. I managed to get myself erect and stagger to the elevator. Once inside my place I threw myself on the bed. Shit, it still stunk from Danny’s ointment and Shelly’s perfume. Yes, I said out loud, just another pleasant Sunday in what passed for my life. I almost started laughing in frustration but my stomach hurt too much and I ended up moaning instead.
12
Oddly enough, at least for me and my screwed up life, things seemed to settle down a little after that week-end. We got the theater up and running. Chuey’s family got the carpets shampooed and did some spot painting. The smoke odors had dissipated and the booth was in decent shape. I managed to rent two 35mm projectors and we were back in business. My new policy of showing foreign films started to get noticed by the local media and we began to do better business. We got a long run out of “Redbeard” and a lot of notice when we showed “Battle of Algiers”. Bucky mastered everything Chuey had taught him and he showed up on time and did his job. We were earning enough so I could pay off the suppliers plus my kick-back to the union. Jules and his goons stayed out of my hair. The next wrestling match, unfortunately, had been put on hold. Chuey was having some trouble lining up a suitable fight card. He was also waiting for Danny to recover enough to participate.
It was on an otherwise quiet Thursday night when the chaos that seemed to follow me everywhere returned. I was standing in the lobby with Brucie, my usher and all-around number one boy, talking about his lack of a girlfriend. One of the front glass lobby doors flew open and a short, stocky P.R. with long black hair ran in and looked around in frantic desperation. He ran up to me and held out a .45 automatic. It lay sideways in his hand. It was shiny with pearl grips. My eyes went way wide.
“Hey man,” he said to me. “Ju hide this, man. Come on, ju do it.”
I had seen this Puerto Rican grease-ball around the neighborhood. He seemed to be part of a gang that sold drugs in the area. They all walked around with puffy faces from the bags of drugs they held in their mouths. If the cops stopped them they just swallowed the bags. I wasn’t sure what to do. Without thinking I took the weapon and shoved it into the popcorn that was piled in the popper. Brucie just stood there with his mouth hanging open.
Before we could do or say another thing, two cops ran in and threw the guy to the ground. They swiftly and expertly handcuffed him. He started to swear in Spanish and one of the cops hit him in the back of his neck with his nightstick and he crumpled back to his knees.
“Hey, officers, what the hell is going on? This guy just came running in here. He didn’t do anything.”
“Are you the theater owner?” One of the cops asked me.
“Yes I am. I’m Jack Sennett, what is this all about?”
The cop removed his hat and wiped his brow. The other officer, without saying a word, half-dragged the moaning victim out of the theater.
“We were chasing that mook on suspicion of selling drugs. Sorry about the commotion. The guys down at the precinct say you’re OK.”
Luckily no one was in the lobby and the commotion was not seen by anyone but us. Brucie was still in shock and staring at the popper where the gun was hidden.
I read the cops badge. ‘Thanks for the endorsement Officer Burley. I’m glad you’re getting the criminal element off the streets. Stop by anytime if you’re in the mood for a movie.” I held out my hand and we shook. He turned and left. I wanted them out of there before any customers came out of the theater.
“Holy shit, Jack,” said Brucie. “This place is getting too dangerous for me. I’m just a high-school kid. If my folks knew what went on here they would throw a fit. I don’t think my nerves can take this.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “Take it easy, kiddo. Stuff happens, nobody got hurt. Well except for the P.R.”
“What about that gun? What are you going to do? Why didn’t you give it to the cops?”
Brucie’s voice rose ever higher with each question. He was really scared; poor kid.
“Maybe I should have Brucie, but it is not a good idea to have the local drug dealers pissed off at you for ratting them out. Remember; crime may not pay but if you mess with the wrong people then the criminal will make you pay.”
I gave him a reassuring smile and patted him on his shaking shoulder. I reached into the pile of popcorn and pulled out the automatic. I wiped it off and stuck it in my pocket. I told to Brucie to dump the popcorn out, wipe down the machine and make
a fresh batch. I took the gun into my office. I checked it and found it was not only loaded with a full magazine but a round was seated in the chamber. I racked the slide and out popped a .45 hollow-point. I released the magazine and put everything into a cash bag and into the safe. I had grown up around weapons and was very familiar with this particular pistol because it was the US Army’s chosen side arm. If the owner never returned I had a valuable piece of protection. If he did then I had done him a big favor. I hoped that would earn me some points and he would not hassle the customers or me. As it turned out by doing him a solid I saved myself from an early exit towards the big sleep.
I returned from the office and calmed Brucie down. At midnight we closed up the theater as usual. It was a Saturday night so I took Brucie and Sandy downtown to the Playboy Theater. A friend of mine was the manager so we got comped for tickets. On Saturday nights he always had midnight showings of cult films. This pre-dated the Rocky Horror phenomenon but was much the same. We saw the Wild Bunch that night and everyone shouted out the best lines. Once the film started the box office was closed and then the wine, dope and food started making the rounds. I wondered if Hefner knew what was going on in his little theater. Brucie and Sandy got a real kick out of this underground adventure especially after a few tokes on the passing joints. When the movie was over we were full of food and had a nice buzz going. I drove Sandy up north to her dorm at Northwestern University. It was a beautiful night so I dropped the top on the Pontiac and drove up the outer drive with the radio blaring some Stones and the stars twinkling above us. The wind had come up fanning my long hair out behind me. The waves from the lake were crashing against the rocks. The spray carried the smell of the lake water past our noses. The reverie ended when I got pulled over for speeding as we exited onto Sheridan Road. The cop who stopped us was someone I knew from my precinct. I knew him because he dropped into the theater once in awhile. We exchanged pleasantries and he asked me to try and slow down. This was one time when the old Chicago clout system paid off for me.
13
Sunday morning rolled around. I was trying to sleep in after a long and busy Saturday night. The door bell started ringing and someone was pounding on my door. I tried to ignore it but they would not stop. I crawled out of bed and staggered to answer it in my underwear. I threw the door open.
“What the hell do you….?”
My eyes popped open; In front of me stood Shelly and Danny in all their bedraggled glory. Before I could utter another word they burst in past me. Shelly’s hair was in a mess and Danny was bent over and hauling two suitcases. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His track suit was wrinkled and sweat-stained. Shelly was in her usual skin-tight jeans and a blouse that was, as always, cut way too low. They ignored me as they continued shouting at each other.
“Look at you, you broken down piece of shit. You gotta’ be nuts. You can’t fight anymore.”
“I’m as good as ever. What’s your beef. You sure like the money, don’t ya?”
“Yeah, big deal money. What, you think a few bucks from your asshole fights and everything’s hunky-dory? You’re a has been, a washed up palooka.”
She turned to me. I was still half asleep and all the shouting was giving me a headache. “Look at him Jack. He still thinks he’s the Crusher. He can’t even crush out a cigarette anymore. Some macho luchadore he is. The old fart can’t even get it up anymore.”
Danny looked like his head was going to explode. His face got red and he started sputtering and waving his hands in the air.
“Whoa Shelly,” I said. “What the hell is this all about? Jesus, it’s way too early for this kind of shit. What are you two doing here anyway?”
She looked at my crotch and fed me a big grin. “Nice hard-on you got there, Jackie. You must be glad to see me.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” said Danny flopping into a nearby directors chair. “Can’t you stop acting like a cheap whore for two seconds?”
“Screw you, you punch-drunk bum. At least Jack appreciates a woman who can satisfy a man. All you wanna’ do is live in the past and pretend you’re still a contender. You are so damn pathetic.”
My mouth dropped open as I looked down. Jesus, I did have an erection. That piss hard-on told me I needed to take a leak in the worst way.
“Listen, can you two quit fighting for a minute. I got to hit the head and get some clothes on. Make some coffee or something. What a fucking wake up call you two are.”
I could still hear them shouting as I washed up and got dressed. When I came out of the bathroom things had quieted down some. Danny was sulking in the corner and Shelly was in my tiny kitchen making coffee and toast. I sat down at my small table and looked at both of them.
“OK, do you two think you can tell me what is going on without screaming or fighting?”
Danny came and sat next to me. “Uh, I’m sorry Jack. We had some cash problems. The car needed fixing and with no fights happening we couldn’t come up with the rent money and we got evicted. Shit, I tried to find work but nobody wants a broken down wrestler. Even the E. J. Korvette in Milwaukee wouldn’t hire me as a greeter.”
“Oh yeah,” said Shelly. “That is just what someone wants to see when they walk in; a butt-ugly pug whose smile looks like a toothless dog without a bone.”
“Will you two knock it off?” My head was starting to pound. “Gimme some of that damn coffee and zip it for a few seconds or I’ll toss you both out.”
“You heard him Joyboy,” Shelly said. “He don’t want no lame crap from you.”
“That goes for you too, Shelly. I want you both to stop yelling and just talk to me. Let’s see what we can do about your situation.”
Yikes, now I had to become a marriage counselor. I tried to remember my training from all the group sessions I sat in on in college. I took a deep breath and smiled at them both. They looked at me like I was crazy.
“How did you two get in such a predicament? I thought you were still working Shelly.”
“Aw, like a fool, I quit ‘cause I thought we were going to move down here because of the steady matches Chuey was going to put on. But as you know, Mr. Universe here got hurt and he ain’t healing well. I must be an idiot. Anyway we were living on the edge and had no back-up. So here we are. I guess Chey will put us up if his wife and those other bitches will let him.”
“Hey,” Danny shouted. “Don’t call Chuey’s relatives names. They been good to us.”
“Allright, allright, no more shouting.” I yelled. I put my hands over my ears. “I can’t take it.”
Shelly got up and brought out coffee and a plate with toast on it. She also put out butter and orange preserves. I began to slather up a piece of toast.
“It seems you two have been through a lot over the years. But you are still together so there must be something that keeps you two going. Maybe you ought to think about that for a few minutes.”
Danny looked up at me. “I still love her, Jack. I know I ain’t been much lately but it’ll come back. Chuey said we can still make some money. I know she ain’t happy with me. Hell, I understand. I know she got needs and that’s fine with me. I know you two were probably screwin’ each other silly after that first match but that’s OK. I’m doin’ what I can.”
“You have to say that to Shelly, not to me. Look at her Danny and tell her.”
He turned and faced Shelly. Before he could say anything she started crying. What mascara she still had on started running down her face. She jumped up and came to Danny and started hugging him. Soon he was in tears also. Well, so much for a quiet Sunday morning listening to Breakfast with the Beatles and having a toasted bagel.
While they commiserated I made a phone call to my pal Ron. He and his folks owned an old apartment-hotel in downtown Chicago. He managed it and owed me a ton of favors. I talked him into letting Danny and Shelly have the use of a furnished studio for a month.
I explained everything to them as we finished breakfast. “When you get to the pl
ace just ask for Ron Fine and tell him who you are. He always has stuff that needs taking care of so I’m sure he can put Danny to use. Shelly, I am pretty confident you can find work in the area. Downtown has lots of restaurants so you can always wait tables. Remember, I got a business to run. This wrestling stuff was just a shot in the dark to me. If it works out that’s fine but if not, well then sayonara. I got enough shit to deal with without all this drama. You two understand?”
They got up and Danny gave me a big hug.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate all this. We won’t let you down. Me and Chuey, we are going to make us all lots of moola, just wait and see.”
I hugged him back. Meanwhile Shelly stood behind me squeezing my ass. Jesus, what a pair.
I gave them directions to the hotel. After they left I called Chuey and told him what was happening. He started to apologize for Danny but I told him it was fine.
“Bueno, Jack. I talk to me primo and he send me luchadores from where he live in Vera Cruz in Mexico and they come in one week. We set up matches for Sabado. I bring new guys, young and strong. We make ads for show and put on TV. You will see, we will have big bunch of peoples; mucho dinero.”
“Ok, Chuey. I’ll see you tonight. Bring some of Rosa’s tamales. I love those things.”
“I do better Jack. I bring tamales, arroz con pollo, refritos. We eat good, Jefe. Hasta Luego.”
The two best things about buying the theater were meeting Chuey and his wife’s cooking. Even Bucky, who initially said he hated “that beaner shit”, was soon stuffing his face with Rosa’s creations. I had to smile in spite of the grim crap that kept coming my way. My life was crazy but, hell, it sure had some great fringe benefits.
14
The next week went well with a minimum of problems. I had let everyone go after a strong Friday and was in my office totaling up the night’s receipts when the phone rang. It was my private line so I picked it up knowing it had to be Jules.