I said, real quiet
‘Thought so.’
And swinging with my right, I knocked him clean off his feet, said
‘You’re fooking lucky I don’t have me hurly.’
Turned on me heel, hailed a passing Gypsy cab, got the fook outa there.
The driver, looking in his mirror, seeing Merrick on his ass on the pavement, asked
‘What happened to that guy?’
I said
‘He had some teeth
trouble.’
‘STONE FOX.’
On W31 st, between Broadway and 6th Avenue is O’Reilly’s, a pub restaurant, was where
I’d taken Shona. It was her birthday so I took her to an Irish place.
I hadn’t yet found a
Comanche joint but if I did.
She looked terrific, wearing a fringed Suede Jacket, faded blue jeans, tight white-T.
Seeing her, I said
‘Jesus.’
She smiled, asked
‘That’s good, right?’
Usually, I have cop habits, check the exits, see who’s lurking in the corners, you get the
drift.
I was so smitten, I never did and so, didn’t see the large built man, in the corner, sucking
on a Corona.
The waitress was from Puerto Rico, it being an Irish pub. A very friendly girl, asked us if
we’d like a drink before dinner, I said
‘’It’s my girl’s birthday, what do you think?’
Shona mock reprimanded
‘Why’d you tell them?’
The girl disappeared and re-appeared with a bottle of Champagne, said
‘Del Corazon.’
It was getting more Irish by the minute.
Once the stuff was opened, we clinked glasses and I said
‘La brea agus bheannacht leat.’
Her eyes were dancing in her head, she asked
‘Translate please.’
‘May you have a beautiful and blessed day.’
Thank you’
We ordered beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, vegetables. Shona put her glass down, asked
‘Promise you won’t be angry with me?’
‘What did you do?’
I thought it was some kidding around.
She wasn’t.
Said
‘Merrick phoned me.’
Fook on a bike.
The champagne seemed to be gone flat, I said
‘How would he get your number?’
She smiled, said
‘He’s a cop.’
‘Was.’
I tried to keep my face in neutral, asked
‘What’d he want?’
‘To apologize, said you wouldn’t answer his calls.’
True.
She looked pleadingly at me, asked
‘Will you talk to him?’
I was fooked if I’d let the evening slide down the shitter, said
‘Sure.’
She was relieved, said
‘He’s outside.’
Ah Jesus. I snapped
‘”What, now?’
She nodded.
I stood up, said
‘Won’t be long.’
And there he was, dressed for the cold in a lumber jacket, heavy scarf and his eyes
displaying a shiner. I pulled out my cigs, lit up, asked
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m sorry buddy, I was out of line.I shoot my mouth off some times, I’m truly sorry.’
Held out his hand, asked
‘Shake?’
I tossed the cig, took his hand, said
‘Ok.’
He searched my face, asked
‘We good?’
‘Yeah.’
He let out a deep breath, said
‘I can’t promise I won’t run my mouth again but I swear, I won’t make any….remarks
on your country.’
I’m not in the punishment business unless you’ve been married to me, said
‘Tis done, we’re moving on.’
He reached in his jacket, pulled out a small package, said
‘For your girl’s birthday.’
I was surprised, said
‘Thanks.’
Then asked
‘You want to come in, grab a brew, a steak?’
He nearly laughed, said
‘On her birthday, then she might deck me.’
I nodded and he asked
‘In the morning, you good to go for the other suspect?’
I said
‘Yeah and I’ll try to keep me mouth shut.’
And he was gone.
I went back inside to arrive as our food was set on the table, gave Shona her gift. She said
‘What a sweet thing to do.’
It was a token for fifty bucks to Borders. I pulled out my own, handed it over, said
‘Shite, it’s the same thing.’
Had her going for a moment, she opened it, the Claddagh Heart Pendant catching the
light.
The food was great and yet again, just to watch her relish her meal was a joy. I asked
‘Tell me about The Comanche?’
I was expecting an argument but, no, she launched
‘When the Comanche soldiers came back from Vietnam, no one spat at them or called
them names. They were seen as returning warriors, celebrated with feasts and dances,
which could be why they had little or no, Post traumatic syndrome.’
Christ, I never even knew they served in Vietnam.
Sensing the down turn in the mood of the conversation, she added
‘Plus, Comanche’s followed The Grateful Dead for years.’
I laughed, the image was so damn appealing. I said
‘And Jerry Garcia died.’
She smiled, said
‘Not to The Comanche.’
The whole of the staff suddenly appeared, carrying a large birthday cake, ablaze with
candles and fook, they sang, Happy Birthday.’
I swear to God, she blushed or maybe it was the booze.
I said
‘Make a wish.’
She stared at me for a long moment, said in a very quiet voice
‘I did, the very first moment I saw you.’
Do you ask?
Do you fook.
The man in the corner, had followed each move of the evening, even able to follow
outside, hanging in the shadows, seeing Merrick, seeing all and thinking
………………………….thinking fucking lethal
‘Merrick, how sweet it is and will be.’
When we finally got out of there, Shona was building a nice buzz, she said
‘I wish this day would just go and on.’
She insisted we go to my place, despite me protesting it was crap. She said
‘But your crap.’
Like I could answer that.
After we’d made love and were lying, catching our breath, she intoned
‘Stone Fox nodded to the boy, cradling his rifle close, then the town watched in silence as
little Willy, carrying searchlight, walked the last ten feet………….across the final line.’
I asked,
‘What?’
‘Children’s book, by John Reynolds Gardner, about Stone Fox, a famous reclusive sled
racer.’
Added
………………….And Indian, I grew up on that book, did you have a book Ryan, when
you were little?’
Yeah, Dracula.
Said
‘Moby Dick.’
‘That’s not a children’s book?’
‘It had a big fish, that was childish enough for us.’
I was only half kidding.
‘’I HAVE PERSONAL PROBLEMS.’
SAID BOBBY FISCHER, AS HE SCORED
CHECKMATE.
Merrick picked me up the next morning, just after ten, Shona was still sleeping, and I’d
time to pick up coffee’s from the Deli on the corner.
They were getting to know me there, called me Irish. That we don’t mind, it’s what we
are but Paddy, you’re fooked and gone. Merrick had a stripped down Chevy, looked old,
looked like him. I got in, handed over the coffee and he went
‘What, no Danish?’