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Authors: Tim O'Mara
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do things we don’t hafta every once in a while,” he said, looking at the newspaper in my hand while shaking my other one. “Got a feeling you know that.”
“Life’s like that sometimes,” I said. “I’ll see ya around, maybe.”
“Maybe. By the way, the owner of this place?”
“Yeah?”
“You looking at him.”
I smiled and nodded. “Cool.”
“Yeah,” Tio the gang leader said. “It is.”
*
I was a few blocks from the subway station, wondering what to do with the rest of my Saturday, when I realized I was being followed. I normally wouldn’t have noticed, but after seeing black-and-gold jerseys this morning, it was hard to miss the two behind me, one on my side of the street and one on the other. Maybe Tio wanted to make sure I wasn’t going straight to the cops with what little info I’d gotten from our meeting. I was about to turn around and say something, when I noticed another black-and-gold heading my way. The one coming at me was wearing a matching baseball cap and speaking on a cell phone. When we were about half a block from each other, I saw she was female. Asian-looking. She ended her call, stopped walking, and waited for me to get closer.
I stopped a few feet in front of her and said, “Tell Tio I’m just going home. And thanks again for breakfast.”
She sucked her teeth. “Don’t give a shit about breakfast,” she said. “You need to come for a walk wit’ us.”
I felt the other two moving in behind me and I turned around. Two more girls, both Hispanic. They spread out so I was in the middle of a triangle.
“I’m going home,” I repeated, and tried to move past the one with the cell phone. She stepped in front of me, and the other two closed in from behind.
“You wanna get stomped, Mister Man?” the one in front asked. I could see now she was Hispanic, not Asian. “Right here on the avenue? By a buncha girls?”
“Not if I can help it,” I said, trying to figure a way out of this. Before I could come up with something, a van pulled up alongside us. The windows were tinted, so I couldn’t see inside.
“Then you either let us walk you to the subway, or”—she gestured with her thumb toward the van—“you go for a ride.”
I considered my options and knew from experience nothing good would come from me getting in the van. I thought about running, but with my fucking knees, and three young girls and a van chasing me, I didn’t think I’d get too far.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have you all walk me to the train,” I said.
“Yeah,” the girl said. “And it might hurt if ya didn’t.” She linked her arm through mine as if we were a couple. “Let’s go.”
And we did: the two of us arm-in-arm, the other girls staying a couple of steps back. The van followed along slowly, a block away.
“So,” she said, “what’d you and Tio conversate about?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” I said, and she dug her nails into my wrist. “Jesus!” I pulled my arm away.
“You want me to ask you again?”
“Not if you’re going to ask like that,” I said, looking at the red crescents forming on my wrist. “I asked him if he knew an old student of mine.”
“Kid who got hisself killed on the tennis courts?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled. Without the toughness, she might have been pretty. “We seen you over there yesterday. But you ain’t no cop. Why you all up in this business?”
“I promised someone I’d look into it for her.”
She seemed to consider that for a bit and then nodded. “What Tio tell you?”
“He didn’t know Dougie.”
She grabbed my arm again and tightened her grip. “Anything else?”
“It was my only question.”
“Long meeting for one answer.”
“I got invited to stay for breakfast.”
She nodded again, understanding. “Then we shouldn’t be seeing you over on the other side of the bridge no more, right? Or having no more brunches with Tio?”
“I don’t know why you would.” Those were almost the exact
“Life’s like that sometimes,” I said. “I’ll see ya around, maybe.”
“Maybe. By the way, the owner of this place?”
“Yeah?”
“You looking at him.”
I smiled and nodded. “Cool.”
“Yeah,” Tio the gang leader said. “It is.”
*
I was a few blocks from the subway station, wondering what to do with the rest of my Saturday, when I realized I was being followed. I normally wouldn’t have noticed, but after seeing black-and-gold jerseys this morning, it was hard to miss the two behind me, one on my side of the street and one on the other. Maybe Tio wanted to make sure I wasn’t going straight to the cops with what little info I’d gotten from our meeting. I was about to turn around and say something, when I noticed another black-and-gold heading my way. The one coming at me was wearing a matching baseball cap and speaking on a cell phone. When we were about half a block from each other, I saw she was female. Asian-looking. She ended her call, stopped walking, and waited for me to get closer.
I stopped a few feet in front of her and said, “Tell Tio I’m just going home. And thanks again for breakfast.”
She sucked her teeth. “Don’t give a shit about breakfast,” she said. “You need to come for a walk wit’ us.”
I felt the other two moving in behind me and I turned around. Two more girls, both Hispanic. They spread out so I was in the middle of a triangle.
“I’m going home,” I repeated, and tried to move past the one with the cell phone. She stepped in front of me, and the other two closed in from behind.
“You wanna get stomped, Mister Man?” the one in front asked. I could see now she was Hispanic, not Asian. “Right here on the avenue? By a buncha girls?”
“Not if I can help it,” I said, trying to figure a way out of this. Before I could come up with something, a van pulled up alongside us. The windows were tinted, so I couldn’t see inside.
“Then you either let us walk you to the subway, or”—she gestured with her thumb toward the van—“you go for a ride.”
I considered my options and knew from experience nothing good would come from me getting in the van. I thought about running, but with my fucking knees, and three young girls and a van chasing me, I didn’t think I’d get too far.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have you all walk me to the train,” I said.
“Yeah,” the girl said. “And it might hurt if ya didn’t.” She linked her arm through mine as if we were a couple. “Let’s go.”
And we did: the two of us arm-in-arm, the other girls staying a couple of steps back. The van followed along slowly, a block away.
“So,” she said, “what’d you and Tio conversate about?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” I said, and she dug her nails into my wrist. “Jesus!” I pulled my arm away.
“You want me to ask you again?”
“Not if you’re going to ask like that,” I said, looking at the red crescents forming on my wrist. “I asked him if he knew an old student of mine.”
“Kid who got hisself killed on the tennis courts?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled. Without the toughness, she might have been pretty. “We seen you over there yesterday. But you ain’t no cop. Why you all up in this business?”
“I promised someone I’d look into it for her.”
She seemed to consider that for a bit and then nodded. “What Tio tell you?”
“He didn’t know Dougie.”
She grabbed my arm again and tightened her grip. “Anything else?”
“It was my only question.”
“Long meeting for one answer.”
“I got invited to stay for breakfast.”
She nodded again, understanding. “Then we shouldn’t be seeing you over on the other side of the bridge no more, right? Or having no more brunches with Tio?”
“I don’t know why you would.” Those were almost the exact
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