Bomber's Law (12 page)

He was wearing that entire ensemble to the train-stop in exactly the same jauntily-hopeful mood that boys ten and under wore their Red Sox hats and jackets, and brought their fielder's gloves, to see games at Fenway Park: so as to be prepared to step right into the starting lineup and serve, should some pregame disaster disable the whole team and require quick assistance from the foresighted boys, to avoid the otherwise-assured (and profoundly-ignominious) disgrace of forfeit (the boys themselves were fully aware that the fantasy was utterly preposterous and so claimed that they brought the gloves “in case of a foul ball,” not even risking the ridicule of their friends by admitting to indulgence of the fantasy, but in secret they harbored it just the same). The man was wearing what his wardrobe offered as his best clothes, and he was carrying the accessory that the other people, in their best clothes as well, recognized as a credential establishing that the person in possession was indisputably a competent adult, on his way to do serious work. In the similar but not identical, nearly-congruent, adjacent world where Dell'Appa now perceived the misfitted man really lived all his life, happy and content, everyone was about ten years old, at most approaching eleven, and he along with all the people whom he met each day in that world, on the Dockett Street bridge or anywhere else that he might take his private planet, would remain at that age forever. Which would be until the
day he died, most likely smiling that same serene smile. “Is that him?” Dell'Appa said. “Is that guy there the guy, our guy? The retardate next to the curb?”

“Yup,” Brennan said with combined grimness and sadness, “that's Danny all right. You're lookin' this minute at the safest helpless person in the whole United States. At least 'til the day comes that Short Joey dies, Daniel Mossi's as safe as an angel. And probably at least as happy. Anywhere he goes, he's welcome. And everyone who knows Short Joey knows he'd better be, because as dumb as he is, Danny-boy can talk.

“See, if somebody's bad to him, bad to Danny,” Brennan said, “well, years ago, some guys were. They were making fun of him one day and stuff, and one thing led to another and the first thing you know they've ended up gettin' him to take his pants off and go to the store bare-ass. There were these two guys, couple short-hittin' DPW guys, common garden-variety bullshit artists, thought they were some kind of wise guys because they'd faithfully punch in down the State garage every morning, and then they'd adjourn to the poolroom in the Square and spend the whole entire day down there, gettin' the taxpayers' money to do it. They even had their own custom pool cues they kept there, ivory grips and plush cases, all that stuff. Far as they're concerned, the Public Works there, that was just something they did every day, like havin' a coffee before work, only they got paid for the coffee. But the poolroom was where their real jobs were. And then there was one day when
that
even bored them, gettin' paid for hustling pool. So Danny comes in, and that's what they did to him. With the pants, I mean, and I guess they come to regret it.

“They'd already gotten themselves drunk on beer, this day when he comes in, and it's just early afternoon. Women out inna stores, shoppin', kids outta school for the day, all kindsa people around, your normal day, but in the poolroom I guess it was slow. No pigeons around they could hustle. So they decide that what they'll do is play this little trick on poor old dopey Dan. Now keep in mind what I told you: This's a good many years ago, before word gets around what Joey can do, what he
will
do if somebody crosses him, and also before Joe and Danny caught on. So, when these two guys, these assholes, start in tellin' Danny if he takes his pants off—and this's January,
mind you, I think it was, good and cold anyway; no day you'd want to be out with no pants on, even if that was your ambition—and then he goes out of the poolhall, and down the street, oh, maybe a block and a half, to the newsstand the Greek used to run there, along with the Numbers 'til lunch, the Greek'll be real pleased to see him. This is what they're tellin' Danny, and Danny, bein' an idiot, somethin', he's believin' this shit. They tell Danny if he goes in and shows the Greek his bare dick and his ass, the Greek'll be Danny's friend ever after. Give him Luckies for nothin', Dan used to smoke those, or else maybe he was gettin' them for Joey, I dunno, but they're gonna be free from the Greek. The Greek'll take Danny the ballgames. He'll take Danny to Paragon Park, which was still open in summer back then—hell, still existed, too; now it don't even do that anymore—and they'll ride on the big Ferris wheel.

“You can see what these two guys, these two assholes, 've got in mind they're doin' here: they're insultin' the Greek, usin' Danny. Well, like I say, this's all years ago, before Joey and Danny catch on that bad people will try to hurt Danny. ‘Bad people': the fact that there're bad people around don't come as news to Joe, being as there's some would say he's already one of them himself, or gettin' there, at least, and the gentlemen he works for are not universally admired. But the bad people he works for and is working to become one of, they are not bad people like these damned ditchdiggers are. The bad people that Joey knows, that always treat him right, they are not the rotten type of people that humiliate the helpless, mortify the weak, and really hurt the poor bastards who they know can't hit them back. And Joey thinks, he is
convinced
, that that's not the same thing
at all.

“Well, that night, after the Public Works guys do that to Danny, he goes home and tells it to Joe. How he did what they told him and went to the Greek's, left his pants and his Jockey shorts back in the poolroom men's room and went down the street in the daytime as bare as the day he was born. And the Greek went berserk, Danny goes into the store, his dick bobbin' around and he's freezin'. The Greek, he knows that Danny's not bright, that he didn't think this thing up. Somebody must've made him. So the first thing the Greek does, he gets a blanket from the back and he gets Danny all wrapped up there and then he calls the cops. To come take Danny home. And
pretty soon, they do that. The cops come to the store and they see what is going on, and they take Danny home. But first they gotta follow procedure, naturally, so they take Danny down the emergency room, get him examined and so forth. Make sure he didn't get exposure or something, and that nobody did anything else to him after they talked him into takin' his pants off but before he goes out in the street. Don't want somebody suing the City there, sayin' the cops should've done something, they didn't make sure he was all right. And this takes some time, naturally, like hospitals always do there. But finally they get all the test-results, and he's all okay, and it's safe to take Danny home.

“So the cops do that, they drive Danny home,” Brennan said. “He goes in the house and Joe's home, a cop goes in with him, and that's when it begins: the routine the two of them've been following ever since the cops that day hadda bring Danny home. Ever since then, if you do something to Danny, that Danny doesn't like, he'll go home and he'll tell Joe. And Joe will listen, very closely. He does not go off half-cocked. But if when Dan is finished and Joe's got no more questions for him, if Joe decides he doesn't like what Dan's just finished telling him, what he says to Joe you did, or you got him to do, well then, the next Mossi you see will be Joe, and he'll be in a really bad mood. Which is never a pretty sight, I hear. In fact what I hear is that if Joey's really pissed off, it could even turn out to be your very last sight on this earth. The last thing you ever see.

“Those two guys from the poolroom, for example: for some reason or other that night, after Joe finds out from Danny and the cops what'd happened to his retarded brother that day, well, it must've made him thirsty or something. So Joe decides that what he's gonna do, after hearin' that, what he'd really like to do was go out for a beer. And he just happens, you know, to drop in at that very same place where Danny was that afternoon. Reasonable enough, since it's right there in the Square, short block or two from his house, and the two jokers from the DPW by now're back from the State garage there, after their hard day's work punchin' in inna mornin' and then out, in the late afternoon. They're in there and they're even struttin' around a little, shootin' their mouths off, you know? Proud of what they did to Danny that day, tellin' anybody who'll listen, and there's quite a few in there who will.

“There's a lotta other people in there, in fact,” Brennan said, “when Joey comes in the door. And nobody bats an eye, right? Well, why should they? Joey comin' in for a beer's nothin' outta the ordinary. It's a regular neighborhood bar. No one's surprised, they see Joey—he lives inna neighborhood, right? They always see him around. And where else you expect, he would go for a beer? Normalest thing in the world. And besides now, keep in mind what I told you: This's before the word really gets out, and everyone knows what Joe does. Then it's not like today, when he comes inna room, all riled up with the fire in his eye, anna strong men head for the exit.

“So he goes in, like I say, for a coupla frosties, bagga chips and a Slim Jim or something. And those two guys, the two assholes from the afternoon, they're in there. Well, naturally, one thing an' another, they all say ‘Hello' an' ‘How yah doin'; ‘Hey, howzit goin' there, huh?' each other, including of course them and Joey. Why wouldn't they, huh? Them and Joey, all say hello to each other. It's not like they did something to
him
, they did what they did to his brother that day. Not the way that they see it, at least. Danny's over twenny-one, isn't he? So he's an adult, way they see it. What they did to Danny, they did to
him.
He wants to do somethin', to get back at them, well fine, then, let him—let him, and see how far he gets. But Joey? Why would he have a beef? They didn't do nothin' to Joey. The way those guys see it, they're all right with Joey—never did nothing to him. All knowing each other like they do, all bein' the same neighborhood. Hey, these guys known each other for years. And they're talkin' and so on, you know how it is, just shootin' the shit back and forth, nothing unusual at all perfectly run-of-the mill thing, that's all. And nobody's paying attention.

“And then,
bang
, that's when it happens. One minute the three of them're just standin' around, like everybody else, drinkin' the beer, just the usual shit, and the next thing you know, it's the god-damnedest thing, the assholes're takin' their pants off. Right out in public, son-of-a gun if those two DPW guys're not all of a sudden pullin' their pants off, just as fast as they can, right out in fronta the bar. Alla customers standin' around, men, mostly men, but some women're in there with them too, and all them there lookin' on, starin' right at 'em, you know? And they get their pants off and then they pull down their shorts, and now they're just standin' there, their
limp dicks inna breeze, like they always wanted to do that, what they just did, ever since they can remember. They always had a secret wish to stand around with no pants on in the neighborhood bar down the Square. And now there they are, they're actually doin' it, just like they always've dreamed of. But now it's like that's all that they knew—they dunno what they wanna do next. Everything gets very quiet.

“But that's when Joey says somethin'. He says somethin' those Public Works guys. That nobody says later they could hear at the time, even though they're all standin' right there next to them, no more'n five feet away. But not a soul hears what he said. And then the Public Works guys, completely bare-ass now still, both of them go over the pool tables, inna middle of the room, and bend down over them, and they beg Short Joey, absolutely fuckin'
beg
him, to take their personal, monogrammed, customized pool-cues outta the rack onna wall where they put them, and ram them right up their bare asses.”

“Mercy,” Dell'Appa said. “I assume Short Joey would have none of this disgusting, perverted business and told them sharply to stop all their foolishness and put their trousers back on at once.”

“No,” Brennan said thoughtfully, “as a matter of fact, he did not. I suppose it was a matter of Joe being such an obliging guy, you know? He was always well-known for that. If he happened to see that you needed some help, and he was the guy that could help you, well, he'd pitch right in and help you out, even without bein' asked. Always been that way. You could ask anybody. They would all tell you that. He might think that what you want is kind of strange, maybe even a little kinky, but if you're a friend of his and it wouldn't hurt anyone else, well, he would do his very best to make sure that you would get it. So, if these two guys both wanted him to take their own pool cues and stick them up their asses for them, well, they were over twenty-one, adults too, just like Danny—who was he to argue? They got their cookies that way, what business of his was it?

“And so he went and he did it. Shoved those sticks up them so far it looked like they hadda be gonna come right out of their mouths, or their noses or something, any minute there now. They're both screaming, of course, at first, when he first does it to them, starts it up them there, they holler pretty good, but when he really gets that
wood up there good and deep, well, from what the people said it was like someone's getting murdered. All kinds of stuff gushing out of their mouths, vomit and bile and so forth, and blood just
spraying
out of their ass. Things tearing an' rippin' an' breakin', inside. Like they were two fountains of blood. They said they wanted him to help them out with this? Well, they come to the right guy for that. Short Joey helped them out, all right, and when he's got them things in as far as it looks like they'll go, then he gets the chalk and he goes around to where their heads are, and they're both passed out now, alla pain I suppose, and chalks their noses for them, right there.”