“Kinky sex games?”
They were hipsters, young. Three of them. Floppy hair. Skinny jeans. Why would you wear skinny jeans in this heat, that’s what Tony wanted to know.
“Oh shit. Mister, are you okay?”
Tony smelled weed. They had come up to the roof to get high. Two of them had huge cameras around their necks. One of them was on a cell phone calling for an ambulance.
“Hey,” Tony heard his voice croak out. “Anybody got some water? Or a beer. A beer would be nice.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
The West Indian nurse gave Tony Pedialyte to drink and an IV drip. She told him not to worry about his laptop, that it was just a thing and that he should thank the lord above that he was still alive after what he had been through.
He shared the room with two other patients. Neither knew the other but both of them had happened to be impaled with street signs. “Must be the newest meme,” he said to the nurse, who looked at him like he belonged in a different kind of hospital, the kind where patients wore jackets with wraparound sleeves and the rooms were decorated in rubber and rabid foam.
A pair of uniformed cops had come by to take Tony’s statement. What could he report? He knew it involved Tomasello and Litvinchouk somehow, but he was sure there would be nothing to tie them to the thugs. So he didn’t mention them.
He did ask the cops if they knew who owned the building he had been dumped on—just in case Tomasello and Litvinchouk had been that stupid. But the cops said the city owned it, that it had been abandoned for decades.
The nurse gave him cool compresses for his face and slathered him with aloe vera lotion. He slept most of the time because of the painkillers they gave him. When he was awake, he stared at the ceiling and thought a lot. The doctors wanted him to stay one more day but he had had enough of hospitals for a while. Piss. Disinfectant. He was getting up very slowly when Bobbert came in. He looked worried. White hair showed at the edges of his very black hair shining.
“You’re alive! You look great,” Bobbert said. “Thank god.”
“I’d rather thank the nurse. But I think she thinks I’m crazy.”
They shook hands. Tony’s hands were slippery with lotion. “Sorry,” he said. “Awkward.”
Bobbert took tissues from the nightstand and wiped his hand.
“I didn’t expect to see you,” Tony said. His throat was dry, and he felt like he could never drink enough water. “How’s things?”
“I know. You probably expected Gabby. But, er, something happened.”
“What?” Tony moved to sit up, but his ribs still ached from where he was kicked.
“Well, one thing—we had a break-in at the Sentinel.”
“Oh crap.”
“Yeah. Uh. Through the bathroom window. Nothing much was taken. Just a bunch of electronic stuff.”
“The computers?” Tony privately wondered if that would mean all-new computers, finally.
“Oh no,” Bobbert said, “probably too heavy for them. Just some recording equipment, a DVD player, cameras, and flash drives, stuff like that, easy to carry.”
“Flash drives?”
“Yeah, um, nothing important. Nothing to worry about. Insurance will cover it. But what’s really important is Gabby. She was assaulted.”
“What?”
“Someone robbed her, took her purse, knocked her to the ground.”
“Is she okay? Stupid question. Where is she? I want to call her.”
“She’s home. I told her to stay put and take time off. She’s in a bit of shock, as you can imagine.”
“Hey!” someone yelled from the door, and Tony was surprised to see Gabby standing there. “How’s the roof man?” she said. “Talk about a stupid way to get a tan.” She had a big smile on her face, but there was a good-sized bruise on her forehead and her lip had a scab.
“How are you?” Tony asked, feeling stupid for asking.
“I’m fine. It looks worse than it is. Some guy fucking ripped my bag and spilled everything on the sidewalk, but my neighbors, these big-ass Albanian guys, chased him away. But look at you, you look a little gross,” she said. “Your face is all shiny and red and stuff.”
Bobbert looked embarrassed and perplexed, the way he usually looked, only more so. “Gabby, what are you doing here? You should be resting.”
“Hold on, I have to hug Tony,” she said. She did and then said, “You smell like my grandmother’s lotion.”
“It’s my new fragrance,” Tony said. “It beats the scent of sweat.”
“Lolz. Anyways, listen, I came to bring this to you,” she said, and she took out the bag of flash drives he had given her. “I had these in my apartment and went to save something on them, but then I noticed there was a bunch of video files on here. You have to see it.”
“What is it?” Tony said, taking the bag.
“It looks like surveillance video. But there’s something weird going on. Where did you get these?”
“Patrick. Indirectly.”
“Oh, you know, maybe I should take those for safekeeping,” Bobbert said. “If you think they’re important. And I’ll give them back to you when you’re feeling better.”
“Nah, thanks. I kind of want to hold on to them.”
“But what are you going to do with them now? You’re still recovering. I can keep them safe.”
“No offense, Bobbert,” Tony said, “but you said the paper just got burgled. So it’s not safe there. I’d really rather keep them with me. Besides I’d like to see these right away. As soon as I get to a laptop, that is.”
“Are you sure?
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Well, okay, if you’re really sure then, I guess I’d better go. Okay. Stay strong!”
Bobbert left, and soon after Gabby stood up to leave. She said, “I was going to bring flowers, too, but I forgot. Is that okay? I didn’t think you liked flowers.”
“I’m indifferent to them.”
“Okay then. I did the right thing.”
“Thanks for coming though,” Tony said.
“Of course. We’re friends.”
“Okay, so just FYI: Friends bring flowers.”
“Asshole!” she said.
“I love flowers!” he said. “Love them.”
“I really am sorry to see you like this. But you’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, Gabby. Thank you. And can I ask you a favor?”
“If it’s money…”
“No, it’s an assignment. Give me a piece of paper.”
“Hello! I don’t carry paper with me.”
Tony sighed. “Hand me your phone.”
She unlocked it, and Tony could see the screen was cracked.
He said, “Was this because of—?”
“Oh, no, it was always like that. I should just buy them pre-cracked.”
“Good idea. Okay, I’m writing this in your Notes. This lady Angela Roman may or may not live in Puerto Rico. Her name is not uncommon, so you may find a few. But get me as many addresses, emails, phone numbers, pictures, whatever. Check social media, and I’m pretty sure the paper has an account with one of those address lookup services. Use that.”
“Oh wow,” she said, “another assignment.”
“You’re racking them up,” Tony said. “Listen, I can’t call you at the moment, so better yet call this number when you have something.”
“Magaly? Look at that. Is she your girlfriend again?”
“I’m not the story. Get on this ASAP.”
“So, what is the story?” A voice walking in.
It was Magaly. She hugged him tightly. Her curly hair was still wet. He felt it cool against his face. “You look horrible.” Then she quickly turned to Gabby. “How is the job?”
“It’s getting a little more interesting,” she said.
“Do you have your heart set on being a journalist?”
“I guess.”
“You know, I almost died,” Tony said.
Ignoring him, Ma
galy told Gabby: “Listen, if you want to talk about other career choices, call me. We have career counseling, too. Free of charge.”
“Oh, I have your number already, but I’ll keep this.”
“You do?”
After Gabby left, Magaly said, “I like her. She seems sharp.”
“She actually is. When she tries.”
“Wow. That’s a high compliment coming from you. You must have a crush on her.”
“Did I mention I almost died, up there, on the roof?”
“Yes, I know. It must have been terrible, and I’m sorry.”
“But you didn’t bring flowers?”
“Why would I bring flowers? You’d just tell me it’s bad for the environment or something.”
“It is, and, yes, yes, I would.”
“Listen, I went to your apartment—it was a mess, the super was fixing the lock, and got you the clothes you wanted—but there was this note stuck to the door.”
“From who?”
“Your brother. He was looking for you.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Something about your mom. It sounds scary. Here.”
“From Jerry? Let me see.”
He took it. It read: “EMERGENCY: MOM. CONTACT ME ASAP. JERRY (YOUR BROTHER).”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
“You’re a prick, Jerry.”
“I felt it was the best way to get your attention.”
Tony’s brother Jerry spoke in the calm, robot-like voice he always used. Over the phone, Tony got the impression Jerry was multi-tasking and that whatever else he was doing was much more interesting than their conversation.
“I was stuck on a roof!” Tony said. He coughed into the hospital room phone. He signaled to Magaly, who stood next to him with wide eyes full of questions. “Ma’s okay,” he mouthed to her.
Jerry droned on. “Tony, come on, I was not aware of that. I was in Brooklyn, making sure Ma was ready for her trip, which is tomorrow, by the way, and you usually check in on her apartment, when she’s away, and I need to confirm that with you, and I thought you were ducking me. So I figured the old-fashioned way was the best.”
“You’re a real sack of stupid.” His throat still felt tight and dry, and, having lost so much weight through sweat, he felt smaller, thinner. And a lot less patient, if that was possible.
“Why do you get so riled up?” Jerry said. “I thought you would think it was funny. It is your sense of humor.”
“Funny? You think leaving me a note implying our mother is dying is funny?” Tony got that out and coughed again for a while.
His brother did not let the opportunity to lecture go by—he never did. “You know, you have to get your life in order. Look at what happened: Getting kidnapped and tossed on a roof? Who does that? What is happening to your life? Are you getting mixed up in drugs and bad people? You have to face the fact that your whole life is a mess. You need to give your heart to Jesus. Jesus loves you.”
“Then Jesus is gay.”
“That is unkind, Tony. That is unkind.”
Tony took a deep breath and let a wave of nausea go by. During his time in the sun, as he liked to refer to it, he had turned his thoughts to his family and his mother, partly because he worried that he was never going to see them again, but he also thought that if he did, there might be something he could do—if he were to accompany his mother on her impending trip to Puerto Rico.
“Jerry, hey, look,” Tony said. “I’ve had a rough couple of days. Too much heat on the brain. It fried out my filter.”
“You’re always like this, Chino.”
“That’s true. But, you know what? Listen, I think what I need right now, what I could really use, is a vacation.”
“Where? To Iceland.”
Tony rolled his eyes but kept his voice controlled and suppliant. “Good one. But I’m thinking on a more practical level. I have an idea. Instead of you going with Ma to PR, like you always do, why don’t I go?”
“You?”
“Yeah. I really want to go this time.”
“You never want to go. You always complain that Puerto Rico is too hot and that you cannot afford it.”
“This is true, but I want to go now, I need to go.”
“But you just said you can’t afford it.”
“Well,” Tony said, “you could give me your ticket.”
“You are crazy.”
“Jerry. Listen to me, please, it’s not crazy. When Ma gets back from this vacation, she’s going to be preparing to move in with you, right?”
“That is not decided.”
“C’mon, you know it’s the best thing for her. And then you’re going to have her all to yourself, with you and the wife and your wonderful kids. And let’s face it, I don’t get out to your house that much. This is maybe my last chance to spend a large chunk of time with her. And who knows how many years she’ll be around. Do you know what I’m saying?”
Tony wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe his brother was crying on the other end. His brother was an ass. But he was also a very sentimental ass. Tony also knew his mother was tougher than steel and would probably outlive them both.
“You have a good heart, Chino. I have always known that in my heart, no matter what they used to say about you.”
“And you’re my favorite brother.”
“I am your only brother.”
“When does she leave?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh crap. I gotta get packed.”
“But I did not say—”
“Just call and put the ticket in my name. My regards to your wife and to Jesus!”
After Tony hung up, he gave the phone to Magaly and put on the shorts Magaly had brought him from home.
“I have to get out of here,” he said.
“What’s this about you going to PR?”
“Oh yeah. I’m going with my mom for her annual vacation.”
“But do you feel recovered enough, Chino? You look like your old skinny self again. You lost your beer gut. Well, almost.”
“A few pints will get me back to speed,” he said, taking off the hospital gown and patting his belly.
“And your calves look like pencils.” She saw his ankles then, the bandages around both of them she hadn’t seen while he was on the bed. Her eyes welled up with tears.
“Are you okay, Magaly?”
“Chino, you could have died up there.”
He wondered if he should hug her, and he guessed he’d better, and so he wrapped his arms around her, and only then was he conscious that he had no shirt on and that his bare skin was touching her. He could feel her warmth and smelled the jasmine of her perfume.
“They didn’t want to kill me,” he said. “They said I was there to learn a lesson.”
“And what happens when they come back and find you disappeared. They’re not going to think you just dried up in the sun.”
“All the better reason to get out of town for a few days.”
He broke the hug, feeling exposed and quickly put on the black T-shirt she had brought him.
“I think you have another reason you want to go. And it’s not to spend more time with your mother like you told Jerry. That was a load of baloney.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You’re going to try and find the super.”
“He’s the key to everything. The harassment. Maybe even the missing money.”
“You’re taking advantage of your brother, too.”
“I’m only slightly taking advantage. I still get to spend time with Ma. And the fact that it’s paid for by my brother is a double plus.”
“That’s brilliant, Chino. One question,” she said. “Did your Spanish improve on that roof?”
“Not in the least.”
“Then I think you’ll need a translator. A translator who needs a vacation.”
“Oh no, you’re saying you want to come along? That’s ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous but brilliant.”
He picked up what was left of his messenger bag—it was empty except for two of his pétanque balls, which the pot-smoking hipsters were kind enough to recover from the roof. “Last-minute tickets are very expensive.”
“I live on credit. Admit it, Chino, it’s a very good idea.”
“You know what? I like it. It is a very good idea. We leave tomorrow.”
“What? I have to pack!”
CHAPTER FIFTY
They took car service from the hospital. Magaly got off at her apartment building, and Tony stayed in the car for a few more blocks and got out in front of his apartment.
He could tell a new lock had been put in and the door had been patched up by the super and sloppily repainted.
But that shiny new lock was broken, hanging in its slot, and the two-toned door was wide open. And from outside, he could see his living room/bedroom/home office lights were on.
His old AC chugged and dripped, which meant it was doing its best. And in the dim light from the windows, he saw someone on his futon.
Tony’s first instinct was to call the police, but he hadn’t gotten a new phone yet. He considered running. What the hell, he decided. At this point, what could be worse than baking on a roof for a few days? He eased his door open the rest of the way and went in.
“You need a new air conditioner,” said a familiar voice. “That one is useless. I have a brand new one in my basement I could get for you.”
In the dimness of the room, wearing a black suit and an askew yarmulke, sat Elias Litvinchouk.
“Salve, Mr. Moran.”
“Salve. Did you come to drop off a get well card?” Tony looked around at the mess of his apartment.
Most of his clothes were on the floor. But someone had tried to fold some things. Magaly. Two tall shelves worth of books had been tossed to the floor, forming hills. His desk drawers were open, and the papers and files in it had been tornadoed. His two pétanque trophies had been smashed against the wall. And the flat screen TV had been knocked to the floor and cracked. Magaly had been there that morning. All this had just been done in the last couple of hours.
“Was that necessary?” Tony said, pointing to the screen. “I got that on sale.” There was nowhere else to sit but at his desk on a creaky chair he’d found on the street.
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