1929 (25 page)

“I don’t think broken. But much bruised,” he
announced.

“That’s a miracle,” Aryl said with
relief.

“He needs rest,” Sven said insistently, and
they helped Ava get him to the bedroom and through the painful
process of putting him into bed. She kissed him so lightly he
didn’t feel her lips brush his forehead.

Caleb and Aryl stood at the foot of his
bed.

“We’re gonna find who did this to you,” Caleb
said.

“And God help them when we do,” Aryl
finished.

Ava hugged Sven, her head barely to the
middle of his chest.

“Thank you so much, Sven,” she said with
tears in her eyes.

A few moments after seeing them out, she
heard a soft knock at the door. Ava opened it to the beady-eyed
one.

“I can’t be bothered with you right now,” she
said wearily and closed the door in her face.

“Please,” the older woman called from the
hall. “I have medicine for your husband.” Ava opened the door a bit
and looked at her.

“What medicine?” Ava asked suspiciously.

“Pain medicine.” She held out a bottle of
clear liquid. “Give him two teaspoons every few hours to help him
get through the first few days. Make sure he eats something because
it can make him powerful sick if you give it on an empty stomach.
And if–” Ava held up a finger to quiet the woman. She took the
bottle and read the label.

“Thank you very much. I’ll give him some
now.” She turned back into her apartment. For the first time ever,
the beady-eyed one went home quietly. She held Jonathan’s head
while she spooned the foul liquid into his mouth.

Within minutes, it had taken the edge off his
pain, and he was asleep soon after. She lay next to him as close as
possible without bumping his sore body and cried. She now had a new
reason to hate this horrible life.

Through the night, he woke twice, moaning,
and she fed him the medicine both times; it sent him back into the
merciful deep sleep.

Caleb and Aryl checked in with Ava several
times throughout Sunday. Jonathan had remained asleep the whole
day.

December 2nd 1929

Victor waited on the corner for Tony and
watched from a distance as Caleb and Aryl arrived at work early and
alone. Tony casually walked up to Victor, and the two began to walk
away from the gate. “Everything work out?” Victor asked as they
walked.

“Yeah, worked out fine,” Tony answered.

“Why is he not at work today? I left you with
specific instructions, Tony,” he said, irritated.

“Well, we didn’t catch him ‘til Saturday
night. He’s messed up, but should be back to work tomorrow, maybe
the next day,” Tony explained, thinking back on the attack and
hoping he was right. Victor nodded, turned to him and held out
three fifty-dollar bills.

“I’ll leave it up to you how to split this up
for the job.”

“You got anything else you want me to do?”
Tony asked hopefully. Victor shook his head.

“Not now. But I’ll be in touch.” Victor
smiled in a way that told Tony he would be making more money in the
future. “I have some ideas,” Victor said as he walked away.

∞∞∞

Before work began, Aryl spoke with Harvey and
informed him that Jonathan would be out sick for the rest of the
week. When he began to sound like the absence would be a problem,
Aryl glanced at the accounting office and back to Harvey, and he
relented. He felt bad for a moment as he had never wanted to hold
that favor over Harvey’s head.

Caleb and Aryl ate lunch outside, inspecting
every face as it passed. Tony put his head down to pass them, but
Aryl caught sight of the cut over his eye. They dropped their
sandwiches and caught up with him, one on each side.

“You Tony?” Caleb asked.

“Who’s askin’?” Tony replied with
attitude.

“We are,” Aryl said and stopped in front of
him.

“Yeah. My name's Tony,” he said, nervously
looking back and forth at each one.

“Let’s go for a walk, Tony,” Caleb said. They
both took an arm and led him away. They stopped several feet away
in an area that held empty storage containers and slipped in
between the rows.

Caleb let go of his arm, and Aryl shoved Tony
against the side of a shipping container.

“We got word that a guy named Tony helped
organize an attack on our friend,” Caleb started.

“Hey, now, this is N-New York. There’s a
m-million guys named Tony,” he stuttered nervously.

“Yeah, but there’s only so many who have a
fresh cut on their forehead and works with Jon,” Aryl pointed out.
“Not bad, actually. Looks like he got you good.”

“Look, I don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout attackin’
nobody. I got this over tha weekend when I pissed my brudder off,”
he said, pointing to his forehead. They stared at him with straight
faces and crossed arms. Tony got increasingly nervous.

“You got the wrong guy. I don’t know what
you’re talkin’ about,” he pleaded. They stepped closer to him,
crowding him against the side of the container.

“You better give us some answers, Tony,”
Caleb warned.

“I ain’t sayin’ nuthin’.”

“Wrong answer,” Aryl said and pulled his arm
back.

“Okay! Okay! Some guy paid me to do it.”

“Why?” Caleb asked.

“How da hell should I know? I asked ‘im what
his beef was wit’ this guy an’ he said it was nunna my business.
Just gave me instructions and said he’d pay me when it was
done.”

“What instructions?” Caleb demanded.

“He told me to get a couple uttha guys, catch
‘im alone. An’ he made it real clear to keep it to his stomach an’
back. Didn’t want us to mess with his face. One of my guys went too
far, but dat wadn’t me,” he said, holding up his right hand as if
under oath.

“Who was it that paid you?” Aryl
insisted.

“Dressed fancy. Blond hair and eyes damn-near
black. Only gave his first name.”

“And what is that name, Tony?” Aryl pressed,
growing more impatient.

“Victor.”

Caleb and Aryl locked eyes.

“I should have guessed,” Caleb growled.

“So, let me get this straight, Tony,” Aryl
started. “You took money from this man, Victor, to beat a man you
didn’t even know?”

“Well, ya, it was fiddy bucks.” He bobbed his
head and shrugged his shoulders as if needing the money justified
the act.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Aryl said,
pulling his fist back, “because I’ll do it for free.”

December 3rd 1929

Aryl and Caleb stopped to see Jonathan after
work Tuesday evening. “How is he?” Caleb asked.

“A little better. The bruising is worse, but
he doesn’t need the pain medicine as much now.” She paused, looking
toward the closed bedroom door. “He isn’t talking much. He only
answers my questions and goes back to staring.”

“We’ll talk to him,” Caleb reassured with
hand on her shoulder as he passed.

Jonathan was sitting up in bed, picking at a
bowl of stew.

“Hey, looks like you’re feeling better,” Aryl
said. Jonathan shrugged without looking up.

“Well, we found the guy that set this up. It
wasn’t hard with that gash you left on his forehead,” Caleb
said.

“Who was it?” Jonathan asked.

“Guy named Tony. Works at the ya–”

“Well, he did,” Aryl interrupted. “I have a
feeling he won’t be back to work for a while.” Jonathan finally
looked up at them.

“Why?” he asked flatly.

“Well, because Aryl, here, beat the living
sh–”

“No,” Jonathan interrupted. “Why’d he attack
me? I don’t even know anybody named Tony.”

“We’re not exactly sure,” Caleb lied. “You
know how ignorant people can be. Give them any reason to get riled
up and it can spiral out of control.” He let Jonathan assume that
it had been simple harassment carried over from work. They had
decided to keep any knowledge of Victor’s involvement to
themselves.

Jonathan glanced at Aryl’s hand; it was
swollen with red cuts on the knuckles. Aryl noticed and folded his
arms.

“Like we said, Jon, we took care of it,” Aryl
said.

“You took care of it,” Caleb said resentfully
and looked at Jonathan. “I tried to get in on it, but Aryl here
didn’t leave me much to work with.” Jonathan sighed with
annoyance.

“You shouldn’t have done that. Either one of
you. You could have landed yourselves in jail,” he said, glaring at
them.

“Never been in jail,” Aryl commented as if it
were something he wouldn’t mind trying sometime.

“Yes, you have,” Caleb reminded and grinned.
Aryl ignored him and looked at Jonathan seriously.

“You would have done it for us.”

“You have done it for us,” Caleb corrected.
“How many sets of ears did you box in school because I was always
getting picked on for being the smallest?”

“That was different,” Jonathan said.

“Regardless, Jon, I don’t think you’ll be
having any more trouble at work next week,” he said
confidently.

“I’m going back tomorrow,” Jonathan said
flatly.

“What? But I cleared the whole week for you.”
Aryl glanced at Caleb and back at Jonathan.

“I’m going back tomorrow. I can’t sit here in
this bed, staring at the wall anymore . . . I can’t afford to sit
here and stare at the wall anymore. Just got the first heat bill.”
They couldn’t argue with him about that. They had gotten a heat
bill, too. They staggered at the amount and panicked at how they
would pay it without depleting their small savings.

“Caleb and I were talking about that. We’re
going to start looking for firewood each night after work. That
should help a little. It’ll start warming up in a few months.”

Jonathan went back to picking at his stew,
unable to think about living in the tenement that long.

“I’d better get home,” Caleb said, standing.
“You sure about going back to work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Aryl said hesitantly. “I guess we’ll
see you in the morning.”

Jonathan called to them as they were leaving,
“Hey.”

They both turned to look at him.

“Thanks.”

Ava came in after they left and moved his
bowl of uneaten stew. He didn’t look any better after the visit.
She sat very close beside him with her hands in her lap and leaned
her head over onto his shoulder. He was staring again and didn’t
acknowledge her. Several moments of silence passed.

“Jon, let’s leave.” Her words snapped him out
of his daze, and he looked toward her.

“What?”

“Let’s leave,” she repeated. “Let’s get out
of here and leave this whole mess behind.”

“How can we possibly do that?”

“I don’t know. We’ll find a way. We could go
stay with your parents ‘til we figure something out,” she
suggested.

“I can’t go live with my parents,” he
insisted.

“Why not?”

“There is no way I am crawling home, a
complete failure, to live under my parents’ roof, bringing the wife
I can no longer support,” he said, angry with her for even
suggesting it.

“They know that's not true, Jon. They know
what happened, and they know it happened to half the world. You act
like you were the only one that day,” she said, slightly irritated.
She expected him to jump at the idea of leaving the tenement no
matter what amount of pride he had to swallow.

“I can’t,” he said firmly.

“Jon, it doesn’t have to be like this!” she
yelled suddenly, getting off the bed and standing next to it.

“No, it didn’t,” he said, mentally scolding
himself again for his mistakes. She knew well enough what he was
doing, and it infuriated her.

“There is no way you could have stopped what
happened, Jon. No one could. Deep down you must know that, yet you
continue to be a martyr.” She was fully angered now. “We have a way
out. But you won’t take it because of your pride.”

“Living with my parents is not a way out,
Ava. What about jobs? They weren’t plentiful when I left that small
town ten years ago, and there are even less now. We’d be fully
living on their charity without a job, and I won’t do that.” She
stood with her arms crossed. She had already written his parents a
letter explaining the situation and suggesting the idea and she
wouldn’t give up trying to convince him to leave. “Besides . . .
would you honestly leave Claire and Arianna?” That sent a jolt
through her heart. She hadn’t thought about leaving them, living
without them. Just the thought of it was painful. She sighed and
left the room, frustrated.

While washing the dinner dishes, she decided
on an alternate plan. She would get Claire and Arianna to join her
in insisting to their husbands that they all leave the city. She
was certain that they had had their fill of life in the
tenement.

∞∞∞

After his visit with Jonathan, Caleb came
home to a quiet, dark apartment and found Arianna in bed. He sat on
the side of the bed and felt her head. Her fever had gotten worse,
and she coughed loud and wet when she stirred. He stayed with her
until she was asleep again.

He wandered to the kitchen and was surprised
to find a bowl of vegetable stew in the oven. He ate it cold and
then quickly got ready for bed.

Lying on his side, he wiped the sweat from
her forehead with a cloth and wondered if they had enough savings
left to take her to the doctor if she continued to get worse.

He got up quietly and dug in the back of the
dark closet till he found the hidden money jar. He hated to do it,
but Arianna would continue to spend money if he hadn't; especially
when she felt sad, which was most of the time. He took the jar out
to the living room and sat on the hearth to count it by the light
of the remaining embers. He was relieved to find that there would
be enough to take her but prayed he wouldn’t have to. If he didn’t
have to, then there would be enough for the heat and electric bill
and groceries. After that was gone, they would have to live on his
weekly paychecks. He couldn’t see how that would be possible; every
week they had needed to dip into the jar just to make ends meet. He
lay in bed several hours worrying before he finally fell
asleep.