Odd Jobs (13 page)

I go out of my way to find Sev before I leave. I want to see his reaction to me. But when I find him, he looks at me and it’s nothing. When Sev shoots his angry glare at someone, the effects are immeasurable. As far as a mile away, children are crying for their mothers and German Shepherds are trying to crawl underneath beds. But the look that hurts me the most is this empty stare. It says I don’t give a shit.

It’s not like I have anything to lose. It’s time to have a chat with Sev. This is enough already. “Sev, what’s with the all-night shift? I thought we had a deal. I do the Industrial Road fights and I don’t have the all-night shifts anymore.”

He looks at me and graciously acknowledges my presence, so I now feel that I have a pulse. “Kevin, you got the balls to talk to me about the Industrial Road fights?”

I’m not sure why he said that to me, and he said it in a strange way.

Sev stops looking at me. Instead, he looks over me. He says, “Tell me, Sugar Ray, how much should I bet on you this Friday? Should I load the boat? Maybe I should get my relatives to bet on you also?”

I can’t believe Sev knows that I’m going to dive. “Man, nothing gets by you here.” There’s no sense in playing like I don’t understand. “I don’t want to do it, Sev, I really don’t.”

“I told you awhile back. You’re gonna have some choices, some roads are going to fork. You picked a road, now live with it.”

“C’mon Sev, it’s just a fight and.... ”

“First off, it’s more than just a fight. It always was. Second, everything I did with you was a waste of time. You sold out to the soul snipers. Go live your life and make your mega bucks and have some laughs, while you can.”

“C’mon, man, how can you lay that on me? You said when you were my age you were taking people out in Special Operations for.... ”

“Hey, asshole, I thought I was working for the U.S. government. I got duped. Is there any doubt in your mind who you’re working for? I got an idea. Why don’t you ask Georgie Skolinsky who you’re working for?”

“Sev, every time I ask you about Georgie, you change the subject. Why did he get whacked?”

Sev’s eyes are flaring like lightning. “You don’t demand that shit from me! What were you doing following everyone around that night? How much further up Balducci’s ass you want to get?”

“Sev, I went out there because I thought I was doing something for you.”

I tell him how I knew he was bummed because production was down and Balducci was thinking about closing the place. So I decided to figure out where all the extra merchandise is going. I’m thinking if I can figure this out, production goes up and they can throw something back to the fellas. “Who the hell thought Balducci was stealing from himself? I just wanted to help you. I’m not lying. Why would I?”

He digests this information. “Yeah, makes sense, I guess.” Sev’s cheeks puff up with air and he blows out a sigh that seems to release the venom he was holding toward me for the last few days. “Georgie was working for Balducci in his side business. Small jobs that didn’t take a lot of time, like collections and being a messenger. Some of the messenger stuff was delivering drugs. Georgie got in over his head. Does that sound familiar?”

“Go on,” I say.

“Problem is, some of the few police that Balducci doesn’t control pinch Georgie with a fair amount of Balducci’s heroin, enough to put Georgie away for awhile...unless, of course, he cooperates with the police.” He says that Georgie, a family guy, will do anything to stay out of jail and keep from embarrassing his family.

“So Georgie starts wearing a wire and gets the cops some information. But the fuckin’ guy is so sweaty and jumpy Balducci’s guys catch on. They can spot this shit a mile away.” Sev sees me thinking, then says, “Hope you enjoy your new career.”

The man is shedding some new light here. “I’ve changed my mind. Screw it Sev, you’re right. I’m not gonna work for these goons, and I’m definitely not going to throw any fight.” Just saying that was an unbelievable relief.

Sev is smiling, almost laughing. It ain’t a proud-papa smile, either; he’s laughing like I’m some kind of dick. “Did you tell Jimmy you would work for him?”

“Yeah, but I’m not going to do it. Jimmy will let me out. We go way back.”

“Yeah, Jimmy’s a great guy,” Sev mutters. “He bailed you out at the meat market when Zog was wrapping you up in plastic. You really think he’s going to let you go back to your frat parties now, after what you saw? You throw the fight and we’ll figure something out after that.”

“No Sev, that shit stops now. I’m not going to dive. I’ll just fucking get hurt before the fight. Shit happens.”

Sev tells me my plan won’t work, that the fight and the money mean nothing to Balducci. He says Balducci wipes his ass with money that would break the bookmakers. This whole fight flop is all about testing me, he says. It’s the first test of my loyalty, to prove that I’m on board.

“Well, I’m not going to pass his test,” I say.

“Listen, you don’t have a choice. There really is only one answer at this point, and I guarantee you the answer is not ‘no thanks.
’
Sev looks like a storm cloud, he’s so serious. If you don’t play ball, you’re in deep shit.” I mumble some response about walking away from the whole mess but Sev isn’t buying it. “Look, we’ll talk more about this later. You’re fucked up right now.”

Something occurs to me. “Do you work for these guys?”

He shakes his head. “Naw, they leave me alone. I don’t make waves and I keep the place running. They talked to me once about it, but I didn’t take their bait.”

I’m not buying that one. “C’mon, Sev, they just left you alone?”

“The place runs better with me here and I don’t make waves. End of story.”

CHAPTER 11

I have one more day until my showdown at the Industrial Road bouts. There’s a lot of buzz in the factory. The guys are amped for it. I know Sev wants to talk to me today. He’s expecting to meet up with me at closing time, only this time it’s me who is avoiding him. I know what I’ve got to do now.

I spend the day telling everyone to load up on me and I’m feeling real good. Then I skip out early. What are they gonna do, fire me?

Better yet, I’m gonna take the day off tomorrow and sidestep Sev all together. I leave him a note saying, “See ya at the fight, and don’t forget to bet on the good guy.”

Then I go outside, take a breath of relatively fresh summer air and take the top down on my new Saab convertible. Okay, the Saab is used, very used, but it’s new to me and it’s mine. I made enough money this summer between the factory and the fights to help my mother with expenses and get a car. The Saab drained me, but after the fight tomorrow I’ll have enough cash for school and won’t have to work any more odd jobs, at least for a while. They take their toll on a man.

I drive to Westchester to see a friend but he isn’t home; I don’t know much about the place, so I just cruise around for a while. I get so lost I think I may actually miss my last fight tonight. Eventually I find the Whitestone Bridge that gets me to familiar territory. I’m laughing to myself because there are a ton of text messages and missed calls from Sev.

I finally park the car at the Moonbeam Cheese Factory as the first fight is beginning. I’m scheduled to fight the second bout of the night. The cheese factory doesn’t have the same courtyard as Kosher World, so they basically turned the parking lot into an arena. It’s even more crowded than the courtyard at Kosher World. The bookmakers are going nuts. There’s a lot of activity here tonight. I’m not 10 feet from the car when
the Kosher World guys swarm me.
“Holy shit, Kevin! Where you been?”

“Doesn’t matter where I been. It matters where I am, right fellas?”

Felipe yells, “That’s what I’m talking about!” Then he pulls me aside and asks if I’ve seen Sev. I shake my head. “Man, he’s been after you all day. You don’t owe him money, do you?”

I shrug my shoulders like I don’t know what’s up. “I can’t worry about Sev now. I got a fight to get ready for.” In the meantime the crowd lets out a huge roar as the bout going on heats up. I push my way through to get a look at the action. In the ring two fat guys are hammering the hell out of each other with all the grace of mating elephants. The fatter one is bleeding all over his face and I can’t imagine how he can see. But he’s a gamer. Just when you think he’s going down, he lands a great punch that catches his opponent square on his mouth.

The slimmer one reels back three steps. He’s both surprised and really pissed. He charges in and there’s no doubt from anyone that he’s getting it done now. He lands a few more punches and the fatter guy drops to his knees. The slimmer guy knows how helpless his rival is. He could just push him over to end this but instead opts to kick him right in the face. Man, that’s cold.

There’s a break in the action for everyone to collect money and to place bets on my fight. I’m on deck. I got to get my head right. I need to get into my own zone, so I start stretching out for a few minutes and then throw some punches in the air to loosen up. After a few minutes I’m starting to feel good. I take a brief break to catch
my
breath, and when I look up
I
see Sev and he’s staring at me. Shit, he is pissed. Really pissed, I’m thinking,
Lighten up, Sev.

I make my way into the circle. Tonight I’m fighting a short, stocky guy named Vic Catino. Vic is already in there. Vic isn’t much older than me. He’s been in a few Industrial Road bouts and won some, lost others. The word is that he’s got a lot of heart and is as tough as nails. But he’s not that athletic and that’s why he has a mediocre record. I question how smart he’s gotta be. After all, fighting is the last sport you want to have a .500 record in. It’s not like a baseball game, when you lose and shake hands and move on to the next game. You lose in a fight and you got some other issues. You would think a guy could figure that out.

I take my shirt off and start flinging punches in the air again when three cops barge into the ring area. Where the fuck did they come from?

“Okay, everyone stay put and don’t move,” the larger cop says. “Everybody be cool, or we’ll take the whole lot of you in.”

It gets pretty quiet. I never thought about the police in this equation, but I guess these bouts are probably not on any approved recreation list the cops might have. The taller guy is a 6’2” slender black man with tight curly hair that is grayer than black. This cop must be in his late 50s or early 60s. He definitely seems to be the leader, though. The other two cops are much younger.

The lead cop barks, “So you guys think you’re gonna be doing some fighting here tonight. I don’t think so.... ”

Bino walks into the middle of the fight area, joining three police officers, my should-be opponent, Vic Catino, and me. Bino stares at the head cop and says, “I don’t think you know what you’re dealing with here, Dick Tracy.” Bino starts dripping some attitude at the cop and says, “Look, this stuff has been okayed. Just do your homework. Why don’t you guys just kind of vanish? Trust me, in the long run it’s gonna be a lot less of a hassle for you.”

The head cop looks Bino up and down. He notices Bino’s fire-red hair and powder pale skin and then looks again, as if he needs to confirm that the data is registering in his brain correctly. The cop makes a quick and deliberate move I will never forget. “Yo, Red, you got a bad attitude,” he says. Then he snaps his arm and thrusts out the hard part of his palm, hitting Bino square on the bottom part of his nose. I can hear the bone shattering; blood is flying everywhere. I’ve done a fair amount of boxing before and I’ve also seen my share of broken noses, but nothing like this. It’s an awesome display of raw damage in a compact format.

Bino falls on the ground wailing like a bitch. His hands cover his face but a ton of blood is dripping through his fingers. The cop looks at him and says, “Quiet down. You’re giving me a headache.” But Bino just goes on screaming. He’s yelling something about there are witnesses here and something about how they don’t know who he is, but it’s mostly just aahh my nose, help, my nose.