I left the Lower East side by taking the Broadway Line into Brooklyn. Hank had left a rat infested, decrepit, two room apartment on Orchard Street about a year ago for a slightly bigger, roach infested apartment in Williamsburg. He worked on the docks somewhere this side of town. It was early evening but there was still a lot of daylight left. As I walked down Broadway and then onto South 6th, a steamy fog blanketed the East River.
There were plenty of people trying to escape their heat boxes, and on days like today, all you could do was sit on your stoop and hope for a breeze to pass over the water. I passed three boys sitting on the bottom step of the three-story brownstone building; all shirtless and wearing washed-out dungarees. I pushed on the door and entered. The air was even hotter and heavier in the dark hallway and burned my nostrils. Pulling myself up to the first floor as I held onto the shaky, paint-chipped banister, I breathed the air through my mouth. Hank’s apartment was at the back with another. I put my ear up against the door and listened. Nothing. I knocked...still nothing. Goddamn...I walked back outside and glanced into the almost tree-less street; the only color to it was the trash strewn in gutters. My memory flashed back to the squalor I’d grown up in and of my old man and the stream of filthy whores he’d brought home. I slid my hand through my hair and looked for a place to wait.
The corner building across the road offered shade and a good view of Hank’s building. I walked down the steps and crossed the street, picking up part of a blab sheet lying on the pavement. Getting into the shade I leaned my shoulder against the wall, stuck a cigarette in between my lips and watched as one of the shirtless boys came towards me.
“Wanna shoe shine, mister?”
I shook my head.
“I can run an errand for you, anything you want.”
“Beat it.”
He began to turn away from me.
“Hey,” I said.
He spun around.
“You know Hank? Lives across-–”
“Mr. Sneddon?” he said. “Sure.”
“Think you can keep an eye out for him?”
“Sure, mister.”
I sat on the side street with my back against the wall and my ass on a blurb. I lit my cigarette, rolled my sleeves to my elbows, brought my knees up and looked at the paper. ‘Denise Darcel’s Flat Is Looted,’ I read. ‘Burglar took two mink stoles and a pair of earrings with a total value of $6000 from the apartment of Denise Darcel, actress, at 20 East Sixty-third Street...’ I raised my eyebrows and whistled. Not bad for a private job. I wondered if the East River gang had been responsible. Mick was a tough Irish who led the gang of six. I knew him from when I’d lived in the Bronx with my old man. He’d been on the streets longer than I had but was still pulling off small-time cons.
Mick had begun to trespass onto our domain though and I’d gone to see him before the Gallo family got wind of it. The mob didn’t have patience when it came to people affecting their income. There was no sit-down over a cup of coffee and politely tell you that you’d moved into their territory. You trespassed...you left hurt. It was bad for business when people couldn’t come out onto the streets because they were afraid of getting jumped by gangs; we’d never see our customers to get their numbers or loan-out money. I wouldn’t say Mick and I were good friends, but we respected each other. We’d chewed the fat for awhile and he’d mentioned a job he was planning uptown that would bring him and his gang a lot of dough...and for small-time hustlers like them, six grand worth of goods was the most they’d ever get their hands on again.
“Hey, mister.” The kid pointed up South 6th. “Mr. Sneddon.”
I leaned forward and cranked my head so I could see. Hank was easy to spot thanks to Uncle Sam. I watched the heavy-set man dragging his gimp leg behind him. I stood up and reached into my pocket, pulling out a quarter. “Thanks,” I said as I handed it to him.
I waited for Hank to get to the top of the stoop before dropping my cigarette onto the ground and following. By the time I got into the building he’d just climbed the stairs. I took them two at a time and got to the top as he turned the door handle. As he entered the apartment, I ran to the door, and as it began to close I jammed my foot in the doorway. His face appeared in the small opening, at first, confused, and then as he recognized me, panic. He pushed the door against my foot but I’d already begun to shoulder it. It swung open sending him staggering backwards.
I smiled. “Hey, Hank, thought you’d be happy to see me.”
He recovered his footing and stood his ground. “I ain’t got your money. Tell your boss he’ll have it by the end of the week.”
I shut the door and leaned against it. A rank odor immediately filled my nostrils. It was the stench of decaying food, overflowing ashtrays, body sweat and the filth of an apartment that never got cleaned. Remembering my last visit, I flicked a switch next to me so I wouldn’t step into anything foul. The bare overhead bulb flickered before giving me the light I needed. A cockroach scurried from a plate on the floor to a pile of newspapers several feet away. I wasn’t sure what disgusted me more, the filth, or a cockroach that was big enough to be heard.
Knowing it would bug Hank, I casually flipped through some mail sitting on top of a small table by the door.
“You got no right touchin’ my stuff, punk.”
I looked up at him, happy I’d gotten a reaction. “You always treat your guests so nice?”
“Screw you, asshole.”
“Last time Ricky saw you, Hank, you told him you’d have some money. I hear you ain’t even paid a dime. You’re lucky you’re still walking.”
He crossed his arms in front of him. “I can’t give you what I don’t got.”
“What happens to your dough, Hank? You blow it on gambling?”
“I got other bills to pay, too, you moron. Rent, food...”
I slowly walked towards him. “You know the score, Hank, we don’t like to wait so long for our money.”
He took a step backwards. “You’re still wet behind the ears, kid. I could knock that smart-ass head of yours right off your shoulders.”
I smiled. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Where’s your cash?”
“I told you I ain’t got none.”
I reached him in a few steps, grabbed him by the collar and slammed his back against the wall. I sneered into his ruddy face. “Now’s your chance to make good of your words, I’ll even let you take first swing.”
Now normally I wouldn’t be so cocky to let someone take the first swing, but I knew this guy from way back. I saw his clumsy fist coming at my face, grabbed it and followed through with a punch into his soft belly. He moaned and began to double over. I grabbed his collar again and shoved him back against the wall.
“You gotta do better than that, Hank.”
He heaved trying to suck in some air. I put my arm across his throat and added some pressure. He began to wheeze.
“Money,” I said.
He gurgled something and I added more pressure. His eyes began to bulge and purple lines spread across his face. He tried to pry my arm off as I reached into his jacket pocket. I found what I was looking for and opened the wallet with one hand. Squeezing a little more I watched him gag and splutter and then I took a step backward and watched him fall to his knees.
“Thought you said you didn’t have any cash on you.” I counted the bills, pocketed thirty and threw the empty wallet at his feet. “I’ll be back next week.” I looked around the apartment. “And Hank? You need to clean this place up. It’s a pig sty.”
“You son-of-a-bitch,” he rasped. “You took all my money, I got none left for nothing. No food-–”
“It ain’t your money, it’s Mr. Gallo’s.” I stepped over him. “I’m doing you a favor, Hank, you could do awhile without some food.”
I was glad to be outside of his apartment. I closed my eyes for a second and ran my hand through my hair before lighting a cigarette. This was business...and Hank knew it. He needed money; we gave it to him no questions asked. He understood the terms. I knew he was a heavy gambler; hopefully he’d get lucky on the track and pay us in full. Luck had been on his side today; with Donnie on Ricky’s back to get money from him, Ricky would’ve beaten the crap out of him.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
The First Scene...
I've had quite a few email requests to post the first chapter of Riding For A Fall. So, to those who have asked me and to those who haven't - here it is broken up into scenes which I'll post over the next couple of days:
CHAPTER 1 (first scene)
I put the cup of black coffee back onto the table; it was too damn hot. And now the shrill of a fan inside this cockroach- infested joint was beginning to bug me.
I looked through the greasy front window towards a couple of boys standing by a hydrant. The bigger of the two stuck his chest out in a challenge and took a step towards the other. I fished into my pant pocket for a cigarette. This promised to be entertaining.
“Hey.”
I turned my head. Peggy smiled. Strands of her chocolate brown hair had worked their way loose from her hair band and stuck to her flushed cheeks. Her face had gone scrawny lately.
She wiped her forehead with the back of her bony wrist.
“Can I get you something else, Deke?” she said.
“No thanks.”
She dropped her note pad and pencil into the front pocket of her apron and looked at me for a moment. I held a lighter to my cigarette and lit it. She’d gotten way too intense lately. She smiled nervously before slipping into the booth opposite me. I exhaled, the smoke hitting her face in a steady stream before slowly disappearing.
“Don’t tell me there’s nothing to do in this joint,” I said.
“Well...” She made a small sweep of her hand around the gray diner. “It’s not like there’s anyone to wait-on, besides, I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks. Have you been busy?”
I nodded.
“It’s hot out today. Are you waiting for Ricky?”
I nodded again. She looked away for a second before she spoke.
“Do you have plans for tonight?”
I said nothing.
“I miss you, Deke. I really miss you; I have such a swinging time with you...don’t you?” Her foot rubbed against my leg. “I could come by later,” she said softly.
“I ain’t in the mood for you, Peggy. I’ll let you know when I am.”
Her face froze and her brown eyes filled with tears. “Why do you do me this way, Deke?” She looked away from me as she slipped out of the booth. “I–I need to get back to work.”
“Sweetheart,” Ricky’s voice boomed. “Draw me one in the dark.” He sat down where she’d been and then slid across towards the window. “Hey, kid. Nothing like New York, huh? Freeze in winter an’ fuckin’ fry in summer.” He nudged his head towards Peggy. “Who broke her doll?” He smiled. “You?”
I shrugged. “Beats me. Any luck today?”
His lips pulled downwards as he shook his head. “They must think we’re a charity. Is that what they think we are?”
I smiled slightly.
“I hate beating them up, my suits get all messed up with blood. I tell ‘em, ‘if you just pay what you fuckin’ owe, we’ll all be better off.’ It’s costing me a fortune in cleaning bills.” He shook his head. “I’m gonna have to start adding an extra point to these loans just for laundry.”
He brushed some lint away from the sleeve of his black suit jacket. Ricky spent a small fortune on made-to-measure, imported wool suits. What got me about him was even when he had to beat some guy senseless he’d look like he’d just come out of barber shop after a wig chop. His hair was always exactly parted on the left and greased to the sides. Peggy had described him as a neat-looking, well-dressed thug; even though he shaved daily, his face had a permanent five o’clock shadow.
“So how was your day?” he said.
I glanced around the empty diner making sure we were still alone and pulled a wad of greenbacks from my pant pocket and laid it on the table smiling. “Payment in full. Courtesy of Mr. Wilson an’ a real nice looking filly.”
He smiled as he pocketed it. “Was that what he told you?”
“No, had to follow the weasel right out to Belmont.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope, he’d have kept right on betting an’ probably lost it all if I hadn’t taken our loot when I did.”
Peggy put a cup of coffee on the table. Ricky traced his eyes up her long body, paused at her breasts and then continued to her face. “Fine frame, no parts lame...why ain’t this diner busier with you working here? Only reason we come into this dive is to see you.”
“Can I get you something else?”
A crude grin slowly spread across his face. “What’re you offerin’?”
She sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly as she inspected her fingernails. “Anything from the menu.”
He studied the specials board and then frowned. “I don’t see you up there on the offerin’, toots, but I know you give out.”
She shot me a harsh glance. “I’m not some good-time girl,” she said walking away.
Ricky looked at me and grinned. “Thought you said she was easy.”
I smiled. “Guess she ain’t that easy.”
“Unless it’s you though, huh? Still, there’s hope for me. You get a look at the paper today? Marilyn Monroe married that Arthur Miller guy.”
“That so.”
“If a bombshell like her can marry that cube, there’s hope for me.”
“Yeah, but that cube can offer her a hell of a lot more than you can. What can you offer her apart from your bloodied suits?”
He waved his hand at me. “What do you know.”
I smiled and watched him take a sip of coffee and then almost drop the cup back onto the table.
“Jesus Christ,” he yelled. He put his hand to his mouth. “Do they have to make the coffee so damn hot?”
“You got something else for me today or am I done for the day? The goddamn grime in this place is making me sick. How the hell does grease end up all over the tables and windows?”
He pressed a finger to his bottom lip. “They think we got all day to sit around while the coffee cools off? They must think we like the fuckin’ atmosphere in here.” He shook his head pissed. “I ought to throw the coffee in their faces an’ see how they like it.” He looked at the window and slid his finger along it and immediately grabbed a napkin and wiped his finger. He glanced around the diner. “Who owns this place? I’d like to rub his face against this.”
The craziest things set Ricky off. He once beat the crap out of a young kid because the kid had accidentally stepped on his shined shoe. But what made him more of a screwball was that he was inconsistent; I never knew when he was going to give someone the royal shaft...and more often than not, I’d have to step in and ease the situation.
“So you got something else for me today?” I said.
“You wanna take Hank off my hands?”
I raised my eyebrows. “He still owes money?”
He put a cigarette to his mouth and lit it. “He ain’t paid a penny since we loaned him a large one eleven weeks ago an’ now the doctor’s on my back.”
“Ahh, screw the doctor. Since when does he ever come out on the streets an’ get his hands dirty? That clown oughta get clipped.”
“Now that’s something coming from you. I ain’t saying he’s a decent boss but you gotta feel sorry for the guy. With Gallo an’ my pop on his back he knows if we don’t bring in the business...” He smiled. “It’s a midnight swim for him in the East River...with a nice pair of concrete footmuffs as a bon voyage gift.”
Donnie ‘the doctor’ Russo...how that jerk made it to the position of reporting to Ricky’s old man was beyond my comprehension. The doctor got his nickname because of his initials; it had nothing to do with the asshole’s intelligence.
I smiled and put my cigarette out. “If it ever happens, I wanna be there to make sure the bastard doesn’t come up again. He’s got more goddamn luck than a four-leaf clover.”
“Or he’s got a family of rabbit’s feet shoved up his ass.”
I grinned.
“So, you interested in helping me out this afternoon?”
I nodded. “What’s the interest on Hank’s loan?”
“Five points.”
“Kinda high considering he’s a regular, ain’t it?”
He shrugged. “Thought so, too, but the doctor wouldn’t loan him anything under five after the trouble we had from him last time.”
I did a quick calculation. Five points a week on a grand over eleven weeks…five-fifty in vig, plus the original loan of a grand came to a total of fifteen hundred and fifty.
“Thought you would’ve already put the squeeze on him?”
“Bastard’s like a mole, an’ you know how busy we’ve been. We need more men.”
I nodded as I rubbed my hands over my face.
“You look tired, kid.”
“I am. A little time in Florida sounds real good right now.”
He grinned and lazily leaned back in the booth. “Yeah, the
hot sun an’ all those girls in swimsuits. Hey, there may even be enough girls down there for one of ‘em to take an interest in me over you, huh? What is it with these dames? They into the long, slicked-back hair an’ sideburns? You look like a goddamn delinquent for Christ’s sake.”
I laughed lightly.
“You need to see my man Gino, he’ll fix you up in some decent suits instead of those oversized ones you buy.”
I smiled. “You’re just jealous, man.”
“Jealous of your mug?” He scoffed. “I’m pissed ‘cause I don’t know what these broads see in you. They fall at your feet an’ I’m lucky to get any of your leftovers.”
“You’re lucky I ain’t a greedy man.”
A body suddenly slammed against the diner window. The kids I’d seen earlier were mixing it up with each other. The small kid was pressed up against the window while the other kept shoving him in the chest. He tried to protect himself and brought his elbows up against his chest and covered his face with his hands.
Ricky motioned with his head. “Know what’s going on?”
I shook my head. “Nah, they looked like they were already into something when I got here.”
“Think I should help? Kid looks like he could do with it.”
“You kidding? It’s like a hundred out there, besides, it’ll make him stronger.”
He looked at me and grinned. “How’s it gonna make him stronger if the kid’s gonna get a poke in the snout?”
I shrugged. “Made me stronger. You suddenly get sick of it an’ learn to fight back.”
He nodded slowly, stubbing his cigarette into an ashtray. “You ever think what you’d do to your old man if you saw him again?”
I gazed out the window for a moment. I remembered the last and final beating my old man had given me...all because his whore had been sore at me that I’d turned her down. Then she'd gone and told him that I’d come on to her. There’d been a fury in him that day that’d made him stronger than five goddamn bulls. My attention returned to Ricky and I smiled slightly. “Six years...the drunk’s probably dead by now.”
He leaned forward and smiled. His eyes wide. “Yeah, but if he wasn’t an’ he walked into this grease joint right now. What would you do?”
I smiled. “I’d throw your coffee in his face.”
His eyes relaxed and he shook his head. “What the hell’s wrong with you, kid? I’ll even take the guy off the payroll myself...one slug in the pump. All you gotta do is tell me where he lives.”
“First, I don’t know where he is, an’ second, I wouldn’t waste your lead on the guy.” I smiled. “Now that cup of coffee, that’s another thing.”
He shook his head again.
“You wanna risk a rap for something I don’t give a shit about anymore?”
He looked at me thoughtfully. “I’m sick of owing you, gotta pay you back somehow.”
“Your pop giving me a job back then was all the payback I needed.”
“Saving my ass warrants more than just a job.”
“So send me to Florida on vacation an’ we’ll call it even.”
He chuckled. “I gotta get going, kid.” He stood up. “What time you heading to the club?”
“Depends on when I catch up with Hank.”
He nodded. “If I don’t see you there, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks, kid. If you catch up with Hank, lay a good one into him for me.”
I watched him walk away. After all these years it still amazed me that at five foot six and lean, Ricky could be as threatening as he was. For a little guy, he sure made a lot of noise. I glanced at my watch and then caught some movement outside; Ricky had grabbed the big kid by the arm and was talking to him. The kid squirmed under his hold. I looked for the other; he got up from the ground, wiped his eyes and in a single movement took a step towards the big kid, spat on his face and then ran. I grinned. The big kid was thrashing now to get loose but Ricky held onto him tight as he gazed in the direction the other had gone. After a moment Ricky spoke to the big one but obviously didn’t like what the kid had to say back because he slapped him hard with an open hand behind his head as he let him go. The kid fell face down onto the ground. Ricky looked at me and shrugged. I grinned again.
“Does he ever do anything aboveboard?”
I looked back into the diner and smiled. “Aw, come on Peg, he’s just having a little fun with him.”
“Is hurting a child a game to you boys?”
“The kid was beating up on another. Ricky was just teaching him a lesson.”
Her face softened. “Oh.” She sat down and rested a coffee pot on the table. With her other hand, she wiped the table in slow circular motions with a soiled wet rag. “I didn’t know.”
I reached into my jacket pocket and took out a dime, placing it on the table in front of her. The dirt and heat in this place was too much.
“Leaving?” she asked softly.
I nodded. “Got some more work to do.”
“I finish at ten. Sure you don’t want me to come by?”
I shook my head. “Not tonight, I’m busy.” I stood up.
“What about tomorrow?”
“Don’t try an’ box me in, Peggy.”
“I just need to know if there’s a future for us, Deke,” she said softly. “I–I can’t stop thinking–-”
“I already told you.”
“I know, I know you did. It’s just that when we’re together you seem to have such a good time. I thought-–”
“That’s all it’s ever been, Peg, a good time, nothing more. I told you nothing would ever happen between us. Nothing’s changed.”
She closed her eyes briefly and bit her bottom lip. She quickly stood up and hurried behind the counter. She kept her head low as I walked passed. The sex had been okay but she’d gotten too clingy. It was her own damn fault for getting caught up with me. I’d been honest with her from the start.
CHAPTER 1 (first scene)
I put the cup of black coffee back onto the table; it was too damn hot. And now the shrill of a fan inside this cockroach- infested joint was beginning to bug me.
I looked through the greasy front window towards a couple of boys standing by a hydrant. The bigger of the two stuck his chest out in a challenge and took a step towards the other. I fished into my pant pocket for a cigarette. This promised to be entertaining.
“Hey.”
I turned my head. Peggy smiled. Strands of her chocolate brown hair had worked their way loose from her hair band and stuck to her flushed cheeks. Her face had gone scrawny lately.
She wiped her forehead with the back of her bony wrist.
“Can I get you something else, Deke?” she said.
“No thanks.”
She dropped her note pad and pencil into the front pocket of her apron and looked at me for a moment. I held a lighter to my cigarette and lit it. She’d gotten way too intense lately. She smiled nervously before slipping into the booth opposite me. I exhaled, the smoke hitting her face in a steady stream before slowly disappearing.
“Don’t tell me there’s nothing to do in this joint,” I said.
“Well...” She made a small sweep of her hand around the gray diner. “It’s not like there’s anyone to wait-on, besides, I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks. Have you been busy?”
I nodded.
“It’s hot out today. Are you waiting for Ricky?”
I nodded again. She looked away for a second before she spoke.
“Do you have plans for tonight?”
I said nothing.
“I miss you, Deke. I really miss you; I have such a swinging time with you...don’t you?” Her foot rubbed against my leg. “I could come by later,” she said softly.
“I ain’t in the mood for you, Peggy. I’ll let you know when I am.”
Her face froze and her brown eyes filled with tears. “Why do you do me this way, Deke?” She looked away from me as she slipped out of the booth. “I–I need to get back to work.”
“Sweetheart,” Ricky’s voice boomed. “Draw me one in the dark.” He sat down where she’d been and then slid across towards the window. “Hey, kid. Nothing like New York, huh? Freeze in winter an’ fuckin’ fry in summer.” He nudged his head towards Peggy. “Who broke her doll?” He smiled. “You?”
I shrugged. “Beats me. Any luck today?”
His lips pulled downwards as he shook his head. “They must think we’re a charity. Is that what they think we are?”
I smiled slightly.
“I hate beating them up, my suits get all messed up with blood. I tell ‘em, ‘if you just pay what you fuckin’ owe, we’ll all be better off.’ It’s costing me a fortune in cleaning bills.” He shook his head. “I’m gonna have to start adding an extra point to these loans just for laundry.”
He brushed some lint away from the sleeve of his black suit jacket. Ricky spent a small fortune on made-to-measure, imported wool suits. What got me about him was even when he had to beat some guy senseless he’d look like he’d just come out of barber shop after a wig chop. His hair was always exactly parted on the left and greased to the sides. Peggy had described him as a neat-looking, well-dressed thug; even though he shaved daily, his face had a permanent five o’clock shadow.
“So how was your day?” he said.
I glanced around the empty diner making sure we were still alone and pulled a wad of greenbacks from my pant pocket and laid it on the table smiling. “Payment in full. Courtesy of Mr. Wilson an’ a real nice looking filly.”
He smiled as he pocketed it. “Was that what he told you?”
“No, had to follow the weasel right out to Belmont.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope, he’d have kept right on betting an’ probably lost it all if I hadn’t taken our loot when I did.”
Peggy put a cup of coffee on the table. Ricky traced his eyes up her long body, paused at her breasts and then continued to her face. “Fine frame, no parts lame...why ain’t this diner busier with you working here? Only reason we come into this dive is to see you.”
“Can I get you something else?”
A crude grin slowly spread across his face. “What’re you offerin’?”
She sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly as she inspected her fingernails. “Anything from the menu.”
He studied the specials board and then frowned. “I don’t see you up there on the offerin’, toots, but I know you give out.”
She shot me a harsh glance. “I’m not some good-time girl,” she said walking away.
Ricky looked at me and grinned. “Thought you said she was easy.”
I smiled. “Guess she ain’t that easy.”
“Unless it’s you though, huh? Still, there’s hope for me. You get a look at the paper today? Marilyn Monroe married that Arthur Miller guy.”
“That so.”
“If a bombshell like her can marry that cube, there’s hope for me.”
“Yeah, but that cube can offer her a hell of a lot more than you can. What can you offer her apart from your bloodied suits?”
He waved his hand at me. “What do you know.”
I smiled and watched him take a sip of coffee and then almost drop the cup back onto the table.
“Jesus Christ,” he yelled. He put his hand to his mouth. “Do they have to make the coffee so damn hot?”
“You got something else for me today or am I done for the day? The goddamn grime in this place is making me sick. How the hell does grease end up all over the tables and windows?”
He pressed a finger to his bottom lip. “They think we got all day to sit around while the coffee cools off? They must think we like the fuckin’ atmosphere in here.” He shook his head pissed. “I ought to throw the coffee in their faces an’ see how they like it.” He looked at the window and slid his finger along it and immediately grabbed a napkin and wiped his finger. He glanced around the diner. “Who owns this place? I’d like to rub his face against this.”
The craziest things set Ricky off. He once beat the crap out of a young kid because the kid had accidentally stepped on his shined shoe. But what made him more of a screwball was that he was inconsistent; I never knew when he was going to give someone the royal shaft...and more often than not, I’d have to step in and ease the situation.
“So you got something else for me today?” I said.
“You wanna take Hank off my hands?”
I raised my eyebrows. “He still owes money?”
He put a cigarette to his mouth and lit it. “He ain’t paid a penny since we loaned him a large one eleven weeks ago an’ now the doctor’s on my back.”
“Ahh, screw the doctor. Since when does he ever come out on the streets an’ get his hands dirty? That clown oughta get clipped.”
“Now that’s something coming from you. I ain’t saying he’s a decent boss but you gotta feel sorry for the guy. With Gallo an’ my pop on his back he knows if we don’t bring in the business...” He smiled. “It’s a midnight swim for him in the East River...with a nice pair of concrete footmuffs as a bon voyage gift.”
Donnie ‘the doctor’ Russo...how that jerk made it to the position of reporting to Ricky’s old man was beyond my comprehension. The doctor got his nickname because of his initials; it had nothing to do with the asshole’s intelligence.
I smiled and put my cigarette out. “If it ever happens, I wanna be there to make sure the bastard doesn’t come up again. He’s got more goddamn luck than a four-leaf clover.”
“Or he’s got a family of rabbit’s feet shoved up his ass.”
I grinned.
“So, you interested in helping me out this afternoon?”
I nodded. “What’s the interest on Hank’s loan?”
“Five points.”
“Kinda high considering he’s a regular, ain’t it?”
He shrugged. “Thought so, too, but the doctor wouldn’t loan him anything under five after the trouble we had from him last time.”
I did a quick calculation. Five points a week on a grand over eleven weeks…five-fifty in vig, plus the original loan of a grand came to a total of fifteen hundred and fifty.
“Thought you would’ve already put the squeeze on him?”
“Bastard’s like a mole, an’ you know how busy we’ve been. We need more men.”
I nodded as I rubbed my hands over my face.
“You look tired, kid.”
“I am. A little time in Florida sounds real good right now.”
He grinned and lazily leaned back in the booth. “Yeah, the
hot sun an’ all those girls in swimsuits. Hey, there may even be enough girls down there for one of ‘em to take an interest in me over you, huh? What is it with these dames? They into the long, slicked-back hair an’ sideburns? You look like a goddamn delinquent for Christ’s sake.”
I laughed lightly.
“You need to see my man Gino, he’ll fix you up in some decent suits instead of those oversized ones you buy.”
I smiled. “You’re just jealous, man.”
“Jealous of your mug?” He scoffed. “I’m pissed ‘cause I don’t know what these broads see in you. They fall at your feet an’ I’m lucky to get any of your leftovers.”
“You’re lucky I ain’t a greedy man.”
A body suddenly slammed against the diner window. The kids I’d seen earlier were mixing it up with each other. The small kid was pressed up against the window while the other kept shoving him in the chest. He tried to protect himself and brought his elbows up against his chest and covered his face with his hands.
Ricky motioned with his head. “Know what’s going on?”
I shook my head. “Nah, they looked like they were already into something when I got here.”
“Think I should help? Kid looks like he could do with it.”
“You kidding? It’s like a hundred out there, besides, it’ll make him stronger.”
He looked at me and grinned. “How’s it gonna make him stronger if the kid’s gonna get a poke in the snout?”
I shrugged. “Made me stronger. You suddenly get sick of it an’ learn to fight back.”
He nodded slowly, stubbing his cigarette into an ashtray. “You ever think what you’d do to your old man if you saw him again?”
I gazed out the window for a moment. I remembered the last and final beating my old man had given me...all because his whore had been sore at me that I’d turned her down. Then she'd gone and told him that I’d come on to her. There’d been a fury in him that day that’d made him stronger than five goddamn bulls. My attention returned to Ricky and I smiled slightly. “Six years...the drunk’s probably dead by now.”
He leaned forward and smiled. His eyes wide. “Yeah, but if he wasn’t an’ he walked into this grease joint right now. What would you do?”
I smiled. “I’d throw your coffee in his face.”
His eyes relaxed and he shook his head. “What the hell’s wrong with you, kid? I’ll even take the guy off the payroll myself...one slug in the pump. All you gotta do is tell me where he lives.”
“First, I don’t know where he is, an’ second, I wouldn’t waste your lead on the guy.” I smiled. “Now that cup of coffee, that’s another thing.”
He shook his head again.
“You wanna risk a rap for something I don’t give a shit about anymore?”
He looked at me thoughtfully. “I’m sick of owing you, gotta pay you back somehow.”
“Your pop giving me a job back then was all the payback I needed.”
“Saving my ass warrants more than just a job.”
“So send me to Florida on vacation an’ we’ll call it even.”
He chuckled. “I gotta get going, kid.” He stood up. “What time you heading to the club?”
“Depends on when I catch up with Hank.”
He nodded. “If I don’t see you there, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks, kid. If you catch up with Hank, lay a good one into him for me.”
I watched him walk away. After all these years it still amazed me that at five foot six and lean, Ricky could be as threatening as he was. For a little guy, he sure made a lot of noise. I glanced at my watch and then caught some movement outside; Ricky had grabbed the big kid by the arm and was talking to him. The kid squirmed under his hold. I looked for the other; he got up from the ground, wiped his eyes and in a single movement took a step towards the big kid, spat on his face and then ran. I grinned. The big kid was thrashing now to get loose but Ricky held onto him tight as he gazed in the direction the other had gone. After a moment Ricky spoke to the big one but obviously didn’t like what the kid had to say back because he slapped him hard with an open hand behind his head as he let him go. The kid fell face down onto the ground. Ricky looked at me and shrugged. I grinned again.
“Does he ever do anything aboveboard?”
I looked back into the diner and smiled. “Aw, come on Peg, he’s just having a little fun with him.”
“Is hurting a child a game to you boys?”
“The kid was beating up on another. Ricky was just teaching him a lesson.”
Her face softened. “Oh.” She sat down and rested a coffee pot on the table. With her other hand, she wiped the table in slow circular motions with a soiled wet rag. “I didn’t know.”
I reached into my jacket pocket and took out a dime, placing it on the table in front of her. The dirt and heat in this place was too much.
“Leaving?” she asked softly.
I nodded. “Got some more work to do.”
“I finish at ten. Sure you don’t want me to come by?”
I shook my head. “Not tonight, I’m busy.” I stood up.
“What about tomorrow?”
“Don’t try an’ box me in, Peggy.”
“I just need to know if there’s a future for us, Deke,” she said softly. “I–I can’t stop thinking–-”
“I already told you.”
“I know, I know you did. It’s just that when we’re together you seem to have such a good time. I thought-–”
“That’s all it’s ever been, Peg, a good time, nothing more. I told you nothing would ever happen between us. Nothing’s changed.”
She closed her eyes briefly and bit her bottom lip. She quickly stood up and hurried behind the counter. She kept her head low as I walked passed. The sex had been okay but she’d gotten too clingy. It was her own damn fault for getting caught up with me. I’d been honest with her from the start.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
The Title
My editor once asked me how I'd chosen the title - he thought perhaps the novel would have something to do with riding horses.
Since the book takes place in the 1950s I've tried to make it as authentic as possible by using slang terms and sayings from that time period. Riding for a fall means 'in for trouble, taking chances' which is exactly what the storyline is about.
So there's the explanation - it's not about falling off horses :)
Since the book takes place in the 1950s I've tried to make it as authentic as possible by using slang terms and sayings from that time period. Riding for a fall means 'in for trouble, taking chances' which is exactly what the storyline is about.
So there's the explanation - it's not about falling off horses :)
Friday, April 17, 2009
There's a sequel to follow...
I'm currently writing a sequel to Riding For A Fall called, Behind The Eight Ball. Right now it's in its early stages but I hope to have a completed first draft later in the year.
Will keep an update now and again on its progression.
Will keep an update now and again on its progression.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
My Novel
I just finished formatting my novel for Kindle, so you can hop over to Amazon with your iPhone, iPod Touch, or Kindle to pick up a copy.
Don't worry I'll wait.
Oh, I forgot to tell you the name of the book. It's, Riding For A Fall.
Here's the back flap:
Deke Reno is a small-time player for New York mob family, the Gallos. Reno, a reluctant thug who manages to skirt both the law and the attention of his boss, makes the mistake of helping a broad that’s being blackmailed by his boss. He then makes another; helping her escape. Suddenly Reno’s got the attention of the cops and the mob and finds himself caught between his loyalty to the only family he’s ever really known and his long neglected morals.
Set in the 1950s, this crime-noir is a classic page turner that drops you deep in the lives of New York’s seedy underbelly.
OK, now I'll wait while you go here to pick it up.
Don't worry I'll wait.
Oh, I forgot to tell you the name of the book. It's, Riding For A Fall.
Here's the back flap:
Deke Reno is a small-time player for New York mob family, the Gallos. Reno, a reluctant thug who manages to skirt both the law and the attention of his boss, makes the mistake of helping a broad that’s being blackmailed by his boss. He then makes another; helping her escape. Suddenly Reno’s got the attention of the cops and the mob and finds himself caught between his loyalty to the only family he’s ever really known and his long neglected morals.
Set in the 1950s, this crime-noir is a classic page turner that drops you deep in the lives of New York’s seedy underbelly.
OK, now I'll wait while you go here to pick it up.
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