Adrian Del Valle - Diego's Brooklyn (19 page)

“I haven’t cried in years. I feel so stupid.”

“Why ju feel stupid? Ju should not feel thees way. The strongest man can cry. Even dee presidente, Mijo.”

“You think so?”

“I’m know so.”

Her son let out a slight laugh.

“Even Meestor Bruno de San Martino.”

“The wrestler? No, I don’t think so, Mom.”

“Well, I do. Eef he have sometheeng to cry abou’, he going to cry, too.”

Diego felt around the edges of the steel box as if he was petting the D’avino’s cat.

“Are ju going to open eet?”

Silent, he thought about the cop and the awful fall. It kept replaying inside his mind and wouldn’t go away. He forced himself to think of better times, like his first look down the chimney and the elation he had felt, the money and how he spent it in his thoughts.

Ana tilted her head and looked sideways at him. “Well?”

“You want to see it?”

“Ees up to ju.”

She clasped her hands together, relaxed her raised shoulders and took a deep breath. She watched as he flipped the catch to the clasp, unhooked it and then finally raised the lid. The top-most end of the loosely bound wrapping, unfolded by itself, but only slightly—enough to see a hint of the forest green color underneath. Her lips parted. She could see the number 10 in the corner and then the rest of the money as her son removed the brown wrapping.

“Open your hands, Mom.”

Ana complied, outstretching her arms and spreading her trembling fingers in mid-air. She put the palms together side by side and was surprised by the weight of the money. She immediately placed the bills on her lap and proceeded to thumb through them.

“You must not spend a penny of dees moe-ney.”

“Why?”

“Eet belongs to bad people.”

“You mean the ones that were in Mary’s room?”

“Si!”

Thinking for a while, she finally said, “Less found some good place for thees until we know what to do.”

“Mom, about that thing I was going to tell you before…you remember all the cop cars that were outside a few hours ago?”

“Si, Mijo.”

“That was because of me.”

The most surprised look Diego had ever seen on his mother’s face, glared back at him.

“I thought Karen would have told you by now, but she’s probably so scared with everything that’s been happening in this building that she’s afraid to leave her apartment.

“When I was on the roof this afternoon to get this money, a cop was up there. I don’t know how, but he must have figured everything out. He threatened me and punched me in the stomach. It hurt so bad, I thought I was going to throw up. I tried to tell him I didn’t know anything, but he found the money anyway. It was in the chimney where I hid it. That’s where I found it in the first place.”

“Inside dee chimney?”

“Yes, that’s where I left it, because I didn’t know where else to hide it. It seemed like a pretty good place at the time.”

“So how deed he find eet?”

“He saw me looking at the chimney. Anyway, he got real mad and tripped, so I ducked down. I didn’t want to get hit again mom, and…and…”

A stream of tears returned. Diego laid his head on his mother’s lap, shaking and bawling like a two year old child.

“He tripped, and…and…he…fell. He fell off the roof. Oh, Mom…it’s all my fault.”

“Oh, mine goodness! Both shocked and frightened by what she just heard, she leaned over Diego’s quivering body, embraced him and held him for a while. A very long while. Finally, with slow, softly uttered words, she spoke into his ear. “Eef he trip, then eet ees not jure fault.”

“But…but Mom, if I didn’t go up there just then, he wouldn’t have fallen.”

“Did yo theenk maybe he want to push
ju
to kept dee moe-ney?”

“No, I didn’t think of that!”

“We don’t know dees, now. Only God knows. God knows who dee bad people are, so, maybe he find thees one.

“Done believe eet was ju fault, when eet was dee policemon that did thees to heemself. Why done Ju blame me? I was de one who told ju to go up there to get dee money.”

Outside, leaning over the edge of the stoop, Butchie backed away from Ana’s window. The boy had been out there watching for the last two hours, like his father had ordered him to do every day that week.

Surprised, nonetheless, by what he just witnessed, Butchie now knew that both the mob and his father had been right all along. The money was still in the house and he needed to tell them. Right now!

One hour later

The steel box still lay on the table. Ana looked around the large room, yet again, for a good place to hide the money.

“What abou’ under dee seenk.”

“No…what if one day we need a plumber and we forget it’s there.”

“Jess, ju are right. Inside dee TV, maybe?”

“Same thing, Mom. We could get robbed when we’re out and the money would be carried away with the TV.”

“Yes, thees ees right. So, what do you theenk?”

“I think we should think really hard. Something will come up, eventually.”

Silence.

After a while longer, they took a quick look at one another, shook heads and resumed their focus on the box.

Five minutes later.

“Think of anything?”

Ana’s hands were folded in front of her face with the forefingers pointing like a tent over her lips. She sullenly shook her head no.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Shh!” Ana covered her son’s mouth.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Both remained quiet and stared at the door.

“It’s me, Bill. Anybody home?”

“Just a minute!”

Ana glared at Diego as if he had gassed the room with one of his notorious farts. With both fist, she punched the cushions of the sofa and raised her finger to her lips.
“Shhh!”

“I need to talk to yawl, Diego, it’s important.”

“Just a minute, Bill.”

“Diego! No!” Ana loudly whispered, her entire body falling limp while looking crushed and defeated. “Why ju do that!”

“I’ll be right there! Diego said.”

“Dee drawer! Put eet inside dee drawer!”

“Yes, Suh! Ah know it’s gettin’ late, but ah needs to talk to yo’ momma.”

“Hang on, Bill!” Snatching the box from the table, Diego opened the bottom of three drawers and pushed the clothes to the side. He placed the box in the middle and covered it with socks, closed the drawer and looked over his shoulder for her approval.

“Ain’t no rush. Go ahead and finish up whatever yawl is doin’ in there. But tomorra? Tomorra we is a gonna take care of a snake.”

Diego cocked his head and looked questioningly at his mother.

Just as confused, Ana crossed her eyes, shrugged her shoulders and returned a funny face. Like Diego, she had no idea what Bill Jackson was talking about.

“Come in, Mr. D,” said Diego, opening the door. “What were you saying about a snake?”

“Ratzstein! That old snake in the grass! Why, that man…hello, Missus Ana.”

“Ratzfarb? The principal?” Diego asked.

“Yes, Suh! Ratzfarb, Ratzstein, whatever that man’s name is. The time to kill a snake is when he raises his head, and by golly if he don’t raise that fat head o’ his, I’m gonna drag it on outta his smelly hole with the rest of his sorry ass along with it.”

“But…what about him?”

“I don’t sees how that man coulda made it to where he is today. Yawl cayn’t git no lower than a snake in a wagon rut, and by God, that man sho must know the taste o’ dirt.

“Ma apology, Missus Ana, but that man done got me all riled up.”

“Why be so mad? I thought that whole thing about the darts was over?” said, Diego.

“Ah thought so, too. But you know what? Ah been had alla dis here cookin’ insod ma brain like white lightenin’ in a slow still. And yawl know what ah figa’d? There ain’t no way you shouda carried that blame all by yo’self, when we all knows you ain’t the one that done did it.”

“Bill, take it easy. There’s not much we can do, anymore. It’s too late to change any of that?”

“What if ah was to tell you that I wanted to meet that boy who throwed them darts and have a little southern style chat with him. How would you feel about that?”

“As far as I’m concerned, I already let it go.”

“No, suh! That ain’t the proper way to be a man. What all is that boy’s name, anyhow?”

“The one that brought the darts to school? Willy Goodwin!”

“Colored boy?”

“How did you know?”

“Ain’t no white boy ‘round these parts with a name like Willy!”

“What are you going to say to him? You know he’s not going to admit anything.”

“Not right off the bat, he ain’t. Oh, heck, I surely knows that, too. But down where I comes from, we got our ways. You cayn’t git away with much down there. Ever’body knows ever’body and sooner or later, the truth is goin’ to come out.”

“Not here, unless you’re a boy scout or an altar boy.”

“We’ll see about that. Just point his silly ass out to me tomorra after school and I’ll do the rest. But don’t be standin’ there. I’ll introduce my own self.”

“All right, if you think so.”

“Son, I know so!”

Five minutes after midnight

One block away on Dean Street

“How long we been sitting out here,” said the Geek.

“It’s gotta be at least two hours,” said Butchie’s father, John Kelly, a.k.a., Jersey Johnny, leaning against the front passenger door with his foot resting on the dash.”

“Are dey gonna post dat cop in front of Joe’s building all night?” Fast Eddie asked, from the back seat.

“How should we know, knucklehead,” said the Geek. “Just sit back there and stop asking so many questions. You’re starting to get on my nerves like Tommy did.”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“Dis is a fuckin’ waste o’ my time,” said Jersey Johnny.”

“You’re right, mine, too. That cop ain’t leaving. With everything that’s been going on in that building, the place is hot, that’s why. By the way, thanks for the call, we appreciate that.”

“Don’t mention it. One hand washes de udder one, right?”

The Geek shook Jersey Johnny’s extended hand. “Yeah, thanks. How are your boys doing here in Brooklyn?”

“Agh…priddy good! We’re trying to get control o’ da udda side of Smith Street, but the Italians won’t budge. They’re all over Carol Gardens and Coble Hill.”

“Don’t push too hard, any war you get into is going to affect us in the Kitchen, you know that.”

“Yeah, we know. Right now, we’ll settle for da few crumbs we can get, we’re not greedy. Besides, we got everything around the bridges sewed up, includin’ all of Fulton Street.”

Hey, how sure are you that that kid of yours saw the money in the front room?”

“My kid ain’t stupid! If he says he saw da money, den he did.”

“What didja give him for hangin’ around here for the last few days.” Snap! “A coupla bucks?” said Fast Eddie.

Jersey Johnny twisted around and stared at him lying across the seat with his head propped up on the arm rest. “So, what business is dat of yours
what
I give him?”

“Just askin’, dat’s all!” Snap! Pop!

“I knew that money was in the building somewhere.” said the Geek. “Where does your kid know him from? They friends, or something?”

“Maybe dey go to da same school,” said Fast Eddie.

“Who was askin’ you? Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?”

“Mumble, mumble.” Snap! Chew Chew!

“He knows da kid from stick ball. They’re on different teams,” said Jersey Johnny.

“I’m done with this shit. Let’s go!” said the Geek. We’re gonna drop you off at the house and move on. We got other business to attend to. It’s not like this is the only money we gotta collect out here.”

Johnny took his foot off the dash. “Pass by real slow, first, I wanna see if the cop is in dat squad car or if it’s empty.”

The Geek cranked the engine and pulled out of the parking space. He rolled to the stop sign on Bond Street, making sure he made a full stop, as opposed to a rolling one.

“Stay down when we get to the house, Eddie, I don’t want the cop to see any more guys in here, other than us two in the front seat.”

“I see him. He’s got his head layin’ back. He’s probably sleeping,” said Jersey Johnny.

“Fuck it. We’ll come back tomorrow.”

Outside P.S.6 3:05 P.M.

“
That’s him right there! That’s Willy Goodwin!” Said Diego.

“Good! Now git yo’salf on out o’ here. I’ll talk to yawl lata,” said Bill.

“Lots of luck!”

“Don’t worry ‘bout nuthin’, yawl hear?”

“Let me know how you…”

“I know…I know. Go on with you, now. Ah don’t want that boy to see us togetha.”

With a heavy backpack pulling down on his shoulders, Willy Goodwin passed through the school gates and headed toward the Gowanus Housing Projects on Baltic Street.

Forced to stop at the light for passing cars on the corner of Hoyt Street, he leaned on a lamp post while waiting for the traffic to clear the intersection.

Bill sidled his tall frame to within inches of the kid. He sensed that the boy was looking up, but didn’t readily acknowledge him. Just before the light turned green, he faced him fully. “Willy Goodwin?”

Taken aback, the boy appeared surprised. Huh! How did you know my name?”

“Oh, wale, because you is an important man around here, that’s all.”

“I am?”

“Yes, suh! A vera important man!”

“How do you mean?”

“Wale, because you, Mista Goodwin, is the solution to the whole case.”

“Me? What case?”

“The case of the poorly learned versus an innocent man accused of somethin’ he ain’t neva did.”

“I don’t think I’m following you.”

“Oh…you will! Let me explain it to yawl, Willy. Fust of all, I’d like to shake your hand and introduce masalf…if I may! Mista William Calhoun Jackson the Fust, and I am maghty proud to say hello to such a fine gentleman like yo’self on this fine sunny, January day.”

Willy didn’t know what to make of it all, but by now, curiosity had gotten the best of him. Besides, with them being this close to the school grounds, he couldn’t be sure whether or not the old man was somehow connected to it.

“Is you a God fearin’ man, Mista Goodwin?”