Albany Park (37 page)

“Can’t I go with you?” Shirley asked, as a heavy dark haired man smoking a cigar in front of them, turned around. “Hey Rabin, I thought I heard you,” he said wiping his hand on his sweat-stained shirt and grabbing Howie’s hand in his.

“This your girlfriend?”

“This is my wife
,
Shirley,” Howie answered turning to his left and shaking hands with a gray-haired man in need of a shave. A short, heavily made-up plump woman in a tight-fitting, red print dress and large hoop earrings held onto the man’s other arm. Shirley shook her head, pursing her lips as she observed the woman’s bare legs in low heeled patent leather pumps.

“Hey, gringo, que paso?” the gray-haired man laughed. “You no introduce me to your amiga linda?”

Howie ignored the man..

“Don’t pay any attention to these guys,” he whispered, “I hardly know ‘em. They just hang out here. But you see that guy with straw hat coming our way?” He pointed. “It’s Sal Farina, the guy I work with.”

“You mean the skinny one with the moustache and loud shirt? He sure doesn’t look like much of a businessman to me.”

“Knock it off Shirley, he’s an important guy with a lotta contacts. And you see the sharp guy with him? That’s Jack Brown, the main guy in all South Florida.”

Tilting her head in the direction Howie indicated she turned back slowly. “You mean the good-looking man in that light-colored sport jacket that everyone is nodding to, but no one shakes hands with? Now, he looks important, “Shirley smiled approvingly. “But what about the tall gal with the black eyes and the halter top she’s falling out of, who is she?”

“That’s Teresa.””

“Sal’s wife?” she asked showing obvious disapproval.

With a shrug, Howie, held up his hands , “I dunno, but I don;t think so, cause I saw a picture of his wife with four little kids and she’s short
and fat
.”

Shirley snorted, as she shrugged.

Raising his eyebrows, he smiled, then turned to watch as the crowd cheered the announcement of the players for the next match.

As Sal got closer, Howie bounded down two rows to the aisle and shook hands with him. Jack Brown and another man, a short guy wearing a light tan suit, waited as Howie and Sal talked.

Shirley kept an eye on Howie and then glanced in Jack Brown’s direction. Their eyes met for an instant and she noticed a tight smile on his face.

Turning, Howie yelled to her, “Stay there! I gotta talk to Sal. If you need anything, Jose ‘ll take care of you,” he said, rushing away.

Waving, she called out to him, but with his back to her he moved away still in deep conversation with Sal.

“Shit, you son of a bitch, how can you leave me alone in this sleazy place” she murmured, slumping back in her seat, Tucking her small bag under her arms which were crossed tightly in front of her she tried to keep her eyes on Howie but the crowd, mostly standing, seemed to
swallow him
.

“You need anything, Senora?” Jose yelled with a shoulder shrug from two rows ahead of her, as the man next to him laughed.

Pouting for a moment, amid the noise and smoke as the buzzer sounded for the match to start she picked up the program and tried to figure out a bet, but then jumped up, shouting , “Jose, I want to bet ten dollars on the tall one in the white shirt.”

Laughing, Jose, waved, “Okay, Senora, you got it.”

The loud roar of the crowd, jumping to their feet as her player scored a goal, and seeing Jose grinning and nodding his head up and down, she laughed. Each time her man scored a goal she found herself jumping up and joining in the cheers, “Carlos, Carlos”, and applauding wildly as
he won
.

Returning fifteen minutes later, Howie grinned. “Did you see me in their private box, up there,” Howie said pointing above them to the right. Shirley looked where he was pointing and was surprised to see Jack Brown looking her way with the same tight smile as before. This time, she smiled in return.

“Sal introduced me to Jack Brown and his right-hand guy, Paul Freed. You should’ve heard the send off he gave me.”

“Why didn’t you take me up to the box with you?”

“It was business and Sal wanted me to spend a little time with Brown and Freed. They were interested in his new associate.”

“Hey Senora,” you win!” Jose said, laughing and extending his hand with ten dollars. “Who you like in the next match?”

“Oh this is fun,” she laughed, tugging on Howie’s arm. They stuck around for three more matches; Shirley pocketing twenty-three dollars after insisting as she laughed, that Howie take back his forty-dollar stake.

On a Friday, two weeks later, Howie came in after midnight; smelling of liquor. His silk shirt was soiled and wrinkled.

“What’s with your shirt and how come so late?”” she asked, sitting up in bed.

“Ah nothin’, just got hung up with a few guys in a card game.”

“I was worried; you’ve been so quiet lately.”

“Ah, you know I’ve got some big deals workin’ and still being new here, I gotta make sure I know who and what I’m dealing with. Anyway, don’t worry, I can handle it.”

Clenching her teeth and breathing deeply she didn’t answer but watched his every move, finally saying in a somber tone, “Goddammit Howie after what you put David and me through back in Chicago, I’m not gonna put up with this crap.”

Leaning back close to the dresser, he let her words sink in before replying. “Look. Baby, in Chicago’ the streets are full of rough guys, but here everything is just business. The people here are tough and smart, not a bunch of gangsters. They like me but I gotta keep doin’ my job. So just lay off, will ya’.” Looking away he turned and went into the bathroom and came out a few moments later.

Slowly relaxing she had laid back, but hearing him return she propped herself up on an elbow.

“Anything I can do?”

She heard him laugh across the dark room. “Now that you mention it, how bout taking off that nightgown and I’ll join you in a minute.”

Sliding into bed, he was quickly on her, forcing himself into her. Tightening her jaw, she tried to slow him down, groaning, “Easy oww! You’re hurting me!” as she attempted to wrestle him off.

“Aaaah,” he grunted, rolling off with a sigh. “Oh that was good, baby.”

“For you maybe,” she hissed, turning away. “You hurt me when you’re so rough.”

She couldn’t tell if he even heard her over the deep breathing of his pleasure-induced sleepiness. Tense and sore, she slipped out of bed listening to him snore as she ran a hot bath to try to relax and soothe her aching body.

Propping her head up with a towel, she closed her eyes and sank into the warm water, thinking of Fred Berman. She had sent him a letter two weeks before with her phone number and instructions to call at times she thought Howie and David would not be at home.

Her mind drifting, she recalled the conversation she had with him. ”Remember what I told you,” he’d said as they were getting ready to hang up. “Any time you want to come back, just let me know, I’ll send you the money.”

She had rushed him off after that, telling him the doorbell was ringing. But not hanging up before eliciting a promise from him to call again soon.

Reaching for the towel under her head, she wrapped it around her hair and stood to dry herself, wondering how she would handle him when he called again.

Making a new life in Florida was bothering her. Is it going to be like Chicago, she thought?”

Shirley had met a few of her husband’s new acquaintances; bumping into some unexpectedly at restaurants and others once at a movie. After quick introductions that Howie appeared to be trying to avoid, he was abrupt and made excuses to move on. The men appeared coarse, and she could tell from their language, uneducated. If there were women with them, they dressed in flashy, tight-fitting clothing and wore heavy makeup, unlike the women she had met in the neighborhood. She wondered if they were hookers picked up at the race track or one of their other hangouts. Shirley was definitely not impressed, nor was she anxious to associate with them. She did notice however, they all treated Howie with respect and went out of their way to be friendly. It frightened her because it reminded her of some of the women she had met hanging around Paschey Cohen and his gambling buddies in Chicago.

They had been in Florida almost a year. David had just graduated from grade school when early one evening, Shirley saw on the news a story and several photographs of a man murdered in Miami who was reputed to be involved in loan sharking and illegal gambling. The man looked familiar and she remembered being introduced to him as one of Howie’s associates; when they went to the dog track several months before. Howie came in an hour later and she confronted him.

“I don’t even know that guy, the guy you met is someone else who I;ve only met a few times. His name is Arthur Mendez,” he whined moving away, “and a legitimate businessman. I don’t remember ever introducing you to anyone with this guy’s name,” Seeing his irritation at her questioning and quickly leaving for an appointment, he claimed he forgot; she merely bit her lip and retreated to the kitchen for a glass of wine and a cigarette; hoping that David had not heard them.

Two weeks later, on a hot muggy day in July, Shirley sat down across from Howie. He was finishing a late breakfast; cigarette in hand, with the sports section spread on the table, checking the previous day’s baseball scores. She poured some coffee for herself, topped off his cup and looked around, admiring her pretty kitchen as the radio played softly, giving the local traffic and weather reports in the background.

The soft yellow curtains and pale wood trim against the white walls in the light airy room was typical Florida. Looking through the glass doors out to the backyard, she could see the thick bunches of bright-colored flowers nestled around the neatly trimmed shrubs and lush green lawn. Two small palm trees on either side of the pool were barely moving in the faint breeze. She glanced at Howie and sucked her lower lip as if trying to make up her mind about something as he, hardly noticing her, read and drank coffee. When he looked up, she asked, “Can I get you anything?”

“No, “he murmured and went back to his paper..

Holding her cup between her two hands, she contemplated how to talk to him about what she knew was a delicate subject. Finally, taking a deep breath, she started. “Howie?”

She waited until he looked up, “I’ve been thinking. I’m concerned about David”

He nodded slowly, turning back to the paper. .

”You always said you wanted him to get the best education and how nice it would be if he could develop his athletic skills and be exposed to an environment that would provide a basis for a successful life in the future.”

He didn’t look up but she could see a vein pop near his temple as his jaw tightened.

Leaning in, she waited before starting again, “Well, I, uh…”

Howie slammed his cup down, coffee sloshing onto his hand, he raised his voice, wiping at his hand “Okay, get on with it! What’s on your mind?”

She had jumped up, reaching for a towel from the sink and wiped at the spill and his hand.

“Howie, I just“

Pulling his hand away and scattering the newspaper on the floor, he hissed through his teeth. “I know you. Always putting me down and pretending to be so high class. Just remember, I know where you come from and I’ m tired of hearing about how fancy your fucking family is. “

“Look Howie, it’s not that,” she said, wringing her hands on the soggy towel. . “But let’s face it, we haven’t ever talked about what happened to Paschey and why you left the way you did. Nor have we really discussed what you do here. But I’m not as dumb as those sluts you and your so-called associates hang out with. I can take care of myself, but if anything happened to David, I’d never forgive myself and neither would you.”

Attacking the table with the towel again, she knocked over her own cup muttering, “shit,” while he scrapped his chair hurriedly backing away from the table. His eyes, now open wide as he pulled away trying to avoid her fury, he hesitated, then spoke quietly. . “Shirley, you’re overreacting. Nothing’s going to happen to that kid on my watch. Now just—“

“Howie, you’re never around! And if something did happen, I have no idea how to even get hold of you to tell you! Please, listen to what I have to say.”

Retrieving the papers from the floor he moved his chair back to the table and sat; his eyes in narrow slits, watching her.

Slowly sliding back into her chair, she took a sip of coffee and swallowed hard, looking not at Howie but at her hands, now folded in front of her on the table.

“I’ve been checking out a few very exclusive private schools on the East Coast and think we should send David to one. That way we can protect him and still be sure that he gets everything he needs.”

“What!” he screeched in a whisper, “Are you out of your goddamned mind? Take him away from here and me?”

Pounding the table she jumped to her feet, toppling her chair. . “No, Howie, I don’t want to take him away. I just think—“

“Listen bitch,” he spat the words out. “Nobody is gonna take that kid away from me. Look at the beautiful life I‘ve given him…. and you too!”

Standing across the room from him, her chin jutting out she listened quietly then in a dull even voice answered. “Howie, he’ll come home for vacations and holidays and we can visit him whenever we want. And don’t you want him to have every chance? You’re the one who always said you want your son to have the best of everything.”

The muscles in his face tightened and his eyebrows formed a dark straight line over the thin slits of his eyes. “Goddammit,” he gasped, ”I’m busting my ass to take care of you two and now it’s not good enough? The least you can do is show some appreciation and keep your snotty ideas to yourself, you ungrateful bitch.”

Raising his hand he motioned to strike her, but stopped and turned muttering, “just leave me alone.”

“Howie, please I don’t want to send him away,” she said softly, reaching out to him but not coming closer.

Pounding his fist on the table he snarled, “Enough! I don’t want to talk about this. You and your fancy ideas, you’re full of shit if you think you can take my son from me. If you ever say anything like that to me again, I’ll beat the crap out of you.” Grabbing his car keys, he stormed out of the house.