Chapter 5
The professor was writing equations on the chalkboard as Joe looked up and then copied them down on his notepad. It was only the first few weeks of school, but to Joe he seemed to be getting along okay. Joseph wanted a better life, not what his mother had, not what his father had, not what the past held. He wanted to let go of them, not because he did not love them, but because he could not save them forever. Michael the bartender once told him that you could not save a drowning man if you yourself cannot swim and you cannot save a drowning man who does not want to be saved because he will take you down with him.
What could Joseph do for the people that wouldn’t solve their own issues? It was not just theirs but the weight of their forefathers. The family had at one time been upper-middle class, in fact, you could say they were quite well off, but that was several generations ago, in the 1920s. Unfortunately, through years of abuse, neglect and selfishness each new generation fell further into chaos. Joe was determined to break the chains of iniquity. He would break them, even if he had to go halfway around the world and move mountains to do so. Joe had chosen a seat next to the classroom's windows and he took a minute to look out an open one next to him. He could smell the almost autumn like air. The sun was bright against the shrubs, trees and flowers. Joseph would start now and if it took more extreme measures to break the back of the chaos that surrounded his family, his life well then he would do it, one-step at a time. For now Joe felt, he had to take it slow because one false step and he could fall into the trap that had enslaved many of his family before.
Joseph's mind drifted to his father. Perhaps it was because he thought of Michael the bartender before, perhaps because the math professor was an older guy. He thought about his the last vague recollections of him, when he was just a child, a boy in the city. How could someone just destroy a family, a wife? How could you just sit your life out gambling at the city tracks, the dirty, filth stained betting parlors while your children went hungry in a small town in the middle of nowhere? Joe thought to himself. “You were a fool Dad; you rejected your sons, two grown men with talents and dreams and love to give you. You missed it all for a few tokens and a few bagels at some shitty city deli. Now you are gone and you missed it all, your blood. You missed it all.” Joe looked back at the professor and began to write again. His father traded his soul for a handful of copper coins.
Joseph finally became absorbed in the then and there as his phone began to vibrate with an incoming phone call. He thought better than to pull it out of his shirt pocket, but he did anyway. Joe looked at the number. It did not look familiar, but the number looked like it could be the hospital. Joseph leaned down in his seat, quietly answering the phone. “Hello?”
A young woman somberly asked him over the phone. “Are you Joseph Cruse?”
“I am in class now...I am.”
The professor pointed to him to hang up the phone. Joe pointed to the phone and motioned that it was serious and the professor allowed him to excuse himself to the hallway. Joseph did so, quietly stepping out of the class and into the hallway. He walked down the hall a bit. “What is going on?”
“Your mother has instructed us to inform you she has been admitted and is doing okay.”
Joe held his head. “What is wrong? Why is she there?”
“She is going through acute kidney failure, so we need to see you. She has also been off several of her medicines. The doctor would like to see you if possible.”
Joe slumped down on his haunches his back to the wall. “Where is my brother?”
“Your mother said she did not know where he was.”
He went to his knees.
David pulled up near his apartment seeing the door broken and half-open. Disgusted he found a parking spot and slammed the car door behind him angrily. He was quite angry. “Who broke into my apartment,” David thought to himself, “I am going to kill the fool who did this to me.” Tonya got out the passenger side and ran up to him. David walked briskly. “I am going to break the legs of the fool who did this.”
Tonya grabbed his shoulder. “Wait, calm down and find out who it was first. You got a few enemies, so find out first.”
David grabbed the doorknob to his place and it fell off into his hand. “Shit.”
Tonya looked at him. “Ain't nobody called the cops either.”
David gave her a cold stare. “Why would they?”
Just then, he heard the ragged howl of an old man down the street wheeling to him. It was Paco. He was waving at them with one hand and steering his chair with the other. Paco yelled to them. “Hey, peddler! Dealer!”
David walked up to him, meeting Paco halfway up the street, “You know who did that?” pointing down the street.
Paco nodded, brushing his now sweaty straggly white hair from his face. “Your Juggler did that.”
David laughed with Tonya now at his side again. “Old man, I got a lot of Rats. You don't help me much.”
Paco nodded, holding out his hand. “You got a cigarette; I tell you more for a smoke?”
David looked to Tonya, who then fished in her pocket for a crumpled half a pack. “Here, she said giving it to him.”
Paco looked at it, “Mmmm…half pack,” then looking up to them both, “He came with his girl last night….You must have been with your girl, huh? He took your box, left in a hurry.”
David now quite enraged, grabbing the armrest of Paco's chair. “Who? Tell me before I push you off a bridge!”
Paco held out his palms, looking up smiling. “Easy, my friend, I tell you the whole thing, but I have no matches to smoke with.”
David looked over to Tonya again. “Give him your lighter.”
Tonya growled at him. “What!”
“Do it.”
She fished for her lighter, tossing it to the old man. He caught it and smiled. “Gracias…looked like Omar to me.”
David gritted his teeth. “Okay.”
Joseph rushed into the hospital running up to the front desk. “I would like to know what room Betty Cruse is in.”
The patient representative scanned the computer. “You are?”
“I am her son, Joseph Cruse.”
She looked down at the computer and then up at him. “She is on this floor, Oncology wing South room 137,” taking a blank ticket, writing the room down and visitor, then handing it to him, “and here, clip this on your shirt.”
Joseph took it and clipped it on his shirt. “Thank you.”
She pointed down the hall. “Go through that door there and down the hall, take your first left.”
Joe nodded and rushed through the door, down the hall and took the first left. Another set of double doors opened and he went onto the ward. He looked at the hospital room numbers finding his mothers. He peered in. She was on the near side of the double room, resting with her eyes closed. A doctor stepped up next to him from behind. “Are you the son of Ms. Cruse?”
Joe turned around. “Yes.”
He looked at him, “I am Dr. Feingold and Dr. Dhawan will be here in about an hour. If you want to wait, it would be most beneficial. He needs to talk to you about your mom's cancer. Your mom's health is very serious. I am assigned to your mom as well. We ran blood work and her lithium levels are leveling off, but her kidney is not functioning well.”
Joe nodded, “Has my brother been here to visit her?”
“I cannot say, I don't think so. Has your mom taken her medicine lately?”
Joe shrugged looking in. “It is hard to say. She usually takes her medicine for a while and then just stops until she gets psychotic and then we have to go and hospitalize her to get her to take them again.”
“It's important for us to know, because she came in with very high levels of lithium in her blood and if she had stopped taking her medicine several days before, it would give us an indication of how severe her situation really is. She has blood in her urine as well as an elevated white blood count. She came in w
ith jaundice and dehydrated. It seems she has not eaten well for several days. Have you been watching her?”
Joe now a bit defensive, “Well I was at school, my brother was supposed to take care of her in my absence.”
The doctor nodded thoughtfully. “I see.”
Omar was on a roll. He was hitting the pool table hard at another bar in the town of Greenburg. He and David had several bars and clubs that they frequented, “Hey, I am going to win this one hands down baby,” he said cheerfully, hiding the burn in his stomach, the pain in his chest, giving Susan a big hug.
She pushed him away. “Fool, let's go.”
Omar pushed back, “I am on a roll. I will win it all, baby!” he cheered, poking her with the butt of the cue stick. Susan pushed him away.
Samos pulled a pick out of his back pocket, picking his graying hair. He sipped a beer as he waited for Omar to pick a shot. Samos was one of the best pool players in the area. He worked hard at his game. Samos lanky height gave him a bit of an advantage over his opponents and he took it. He rarely played local, but this time he was in the neighborhood. “What's it going to be?”
Omar pointed, “Corner pocket,” and carefully took his shot. The ball slammed into the pocket hard, hopping in, “and next, over side pocket,” Omar said smiling, hitting the ball hard again, with a snap and clack, the billiard clipping the bumper and spiraling out, “Shit!”
Samos grinned, picked his hair again quickly and then deposited the pick into his back pocket. He took his stick, walked about the table and a good shot caught his eyes. “Combo, two-ten side corner pocket,” Samos said pointing with his stick. He quickly chalked up and shot. The ten neatly fell into the side pocket. The cue ball then returned to a convenient position on the table. He pointed, “Two into the side pocket,” and then cracked the ball.
Susan grabbed Omar at the collar of his shirt, whispering not too softly in his ear. “Get out of this game alive.”
Omar watched as Samos sank the two into the side pocket. “I will.”
Susan pleaded with him. “No, you don't understand. You never do! You have a thousand dollars on that table!”
Samos looked over to Omar and Susan, “Eight ball,” turning to the table pointing with his cue stick, “corner pocket,” and hit the ball in, “Game over.”
Omar pleaded. “Wait!”
Samos went to take the two grand from the table. Omar quickly reached for the money, his hand covering it before Samos could get to pile of cash. Samos gave him a questioning look, “Yeah, Omar?”
“Listen?”
Samos leaned over him. “Get your hands of my money.”
Omar shrank his hand back. “Let's play again?”
Samos looked at a few people who were over in his corner drinking, smiling at them and then questioning Omar, “Do you have money to put up?”
“No.”
Samos took the two grand and folded it, ready to put it into his back pocket. “Then you're done.”
Omar shook his head. The pain in his chest became fear, “No, no,” he whispered. He had lost the whole amount he stole from David, “No,” he pulled his pistol out from his pants and pointed it at Samos, “Gimme the money.”
Samos gave him a fierce look. Enraged, he yelled, “What!” the people in the bar moving back a bit, whispering, some leaving out the front and back door, Samos turned his fists and with power back-handed Omar with a long-armed reach. Omar fell back from the powerful blow, twisting his face as he hit the floor, the pistol kicking out of his hand as it hit the floor hard.
The pistol bounced and slid over near Samos. Susan rushing over, “Omar!” grabbing Samos, Samos pushing her down.
Samos picked up the pistol, grabbed Omar by the neck and pulled him up. “You point a fucking gun at me!” With Omar's neck in one hand, the pistol in the other, Samos again leaned over Omar, this time pulling him over the pool table. He pointed the barrel of the gun right to his forehead.
Susan got up, standing, pleading next to Samos, “Please! Don't kill him!” Samos laughed at her and then growled at Omar, “What do you say?”
Omar sweating, crying, “Please, please...”
Samos cocked the gun. “Next time I will put a bullet in your head.” He backhanded Omar again, who fell over crumpled onto the floor, under the pool table this time. Samos grabbed the money, now on the floor with Omar, took the clip out of the gun, cleared the chamber and tossed the gun onto the table. He smiled to the bartender and then Susan, who was crying next to Omar wiping the blood from his mouth. Samos took the clip with him outside and threw it into the parking lot. Samos walked down the street laughing. Some people never learn, He thought. Some people never learn.
Joseph put his key into the trailer doorknob and turned it. He felt the door unlock. He turned the doorknob and entered his home. It seemed a bit alien to him. Joe hoped he would find Danny there. He peered about, “Hello?” but there was no answer. A small chill ran up his spine. Joe closed the door behind him looking about. The place seemed a bit disheveled. There were a few blankets on the couch, some dirty dishes in the sink and one of the upper cabinets was open. He went over to peer in the sink, which on inspection looked quite disgusting and then looked into the open cabinet. There was a jar of peanut butter with the top off. Joe found the lid, spun it on and put it back, quietly closing the cabinet door. Joseph then made his way to the back of the trailer. Danny's bed was not made, some of his clothes on the floor next to a nightstand. Joe frowned in heartache and moved to his bed. He saw it made neatly. Finally, he moved to the back bedroom. This was his mother's bedroom. He found it disheveled. The sheets were strewn, a pillow next to the back door. Both his mother's dressers were open as well. Joseph looked into them. Some clothes must have been hurriedly taken when the ambulance was called. Joe sat on the bed quietly, putting his head in his hands. He sat there for a minute or two, became sleepy fell back and passed out.
Trisha's cell phone began to ring. She looked at the number, it was Tonya’s. Trisha was in the campus library, at one of the computer terminals. The phone rang loud causing eyebrows to rise. Unfortunately, because of this she was forced to answer it. “Hello?” Trisha whispered as she quickly logged off the computer, grabbing her book bag and getting ready to leave the library. Of course, it was Tonya, but she answered as such anyway. “It's Tonya, you got a minute? It is really, really important.”
Trisha shrugged, “I guess, hold on a minute,” and then after quickly leaving the building, “I was in the library. What is going on?”
Tonya could hear passing cars in the background, David driving up to a gas station. “I got only a second here.”
Trisha leaned up against the wall of the library. She was now getting a bit concerned. “What? What is it?”
“Listen, David is going to go after Omar. Omar I think is going to go after Kevin. I called you because your boyfriend is tight with Kevin. Get him out of town...”
Trisha could hear the door of the car open as David got in, “Who you on the phone with?” then Tonya telling David, “Just some wrong number” the phone then going dead.
Trisha looked at the phone's screen. The phone now disconnected. She hung up and looked up at the sky. It was getting cloudy. It looked like rain.
Joe woke up to a meaty hand shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes briefly and then startled, jumped up. “What!”
Danny leaped back. “Sorry, Joe! Sorry!”
Joseph rubbed his eyes, then smoothed his hair back angrily. “Where the hell have you been?”
Danny now near the corner, backed up to one of Mama Cruse's dressers. “Sorry Joe Joe, I did not mean to scare ya.”
Joe slid over on Mama Cruse's bed. “Here sit.”
Danny nodded agreeably and sat next to Joe. “Sorry, Joe Joe.”
Joe nodded, okay. It was getting dark out and drizzle again hit the roof of the trailer. He reached over to turn on a light. “Where have you been by the way?”
&n
bsp; Danny smiled thinking about it. “Oh, I been out with Donna.”
Joe suppressed some anger. “How did you get home?”
“She has a real nice car and she dropped me off here,” Then Danny blushed, “She gave me a kiss and we did some other stuff before too.”
Joe looked at the clock it was mid-afternoon. “Listen, Danny, I told you to take care of Mama. It looks like you did not do such a good job.”
Danny sheepishly moved a little off Mama Cruse's bed. “I know Joe Joe, but she wasn't on her pills and she yelled at me. Nothing I did was good for her.”
Joe nodded understanding just how he felt. “Why didn't you call me?”
“I did not want you to get mad, Joe. Mama was mad and then if you got mad, I would just cry,” Then with a sad look at Joe, “She got real sick. I thought she would get better.”
Joe stood up, “And did you call the ambulance for her?” hearing his cell phone ring, which he had placed on the counter in the kitchen.
“Naw, Joe Joe. I went out and when I came back, she was gone.”
Joseph shook his head a bit, went into the kitchen to grab his phone and answered it. “Hey Trisha, what's up?”
Danny then following Joe entered the kitchen, the rain getting heavier outside now. Danny listening intently, “Who is it, Joe Joe?”
Joe waved a hand of dismissal at Danny and into the phone. “No, well we got a bit of chaos here, yeah, I got a minute...”
Danny seeing as he would have to wait for information, found the cabinet that contained the peanut butter, unscrewed the top and stuck his finger in. Joe seeing him from the corner of his eye pointed. “Get a spoon, Danny.”
Danny nodded. “Sure, Joe Joe.”
Then Joe's eyes widened. “What! Huh? Shit! -okay, Trisha, love you...bye.”
Danny seeing his opportunity, “What did she say?” licking his fingers.
Joe looked at him licking his fingers and with the patients of a saint, “I thought I told you to get a spoon?”
Danny smiled. “I know.”
Joe rubbed his temples for a moment. “Listen, I got to get Kevin and take him someplace. I want you to go to the hospital and sit with Ma for a while, a few hours.”
Danny nodded, sticking a finger back in the peanut butter jar. “How, you take me, Joe Joe?”
Joe pulled out his wallet giving Danny some money. “Take a cab, Ace cab. Stay a few hours, you hear me?”
Danny grabbed the money with sticky fingers. “Okay, Ace cab service.”
Joe then placing his wallet back in his pocket, his cell phone and his keys, “Call me before you even think or attempt to leave the hospital, okay?”
Danny nodded again cheerfully, “Okay, Joe Joe.” the rain came down now and it was beginning to get heavy.
Kevin heard a rap on his front door, the steel sounding hollow. He rolled off his mattress, which was still on the floor, pushing off garbage as he got to his knees. The banging on the door continued, “I hear you,” Kevin yelled weakly, holding his pounding head. He could hear the rain hit his only window. He grabbed a chair to pull him up, then pushing old food cartons from the chair he sat on it, a roach securing away. He went to pass out again, but again, there was pounding at his door. He stood, “I hear you!” stumbling down the steps. Kevin carefully opened the door, just a crack, finding Omar. Still half-dazed in shock, Kevin attempted to close the door, but he was too slow in his weakened stupor. Omar pushed it in, “I got you now!” he yelled slamming the door behind him.
Joseph rushed over to Kevin's apartment. Joe parked his Buick abruptly; half on the sidewalk and in the pouring rain ran up to his door. He found the door ajar. Joe opened it a crack more, “Kevin?” he yelled up the steps, the rain soaking his head and his shirt. Thunder began to clap outside as Joe carefully moved up Kevin's apartment steps. It was dark, Joe could see very little, except the outlines of the ruin Kevin lived in. Again, Joseph called out, “Kevin?” and a weak moan was heard. Joseph found a usable light switch and flicked it. The overhead light illuminated the room, revealing garbage, a chair, blankets and a bed on the floor, but no Kevin. Still he heard a bit of movement. Joseph kneeled down near the mattress, "Kevin?" he said as he turned his ear to listen more closely. Finally, Joe grabbed the mattress and turned it over. There under the mattress, lay Kevin in a pool of his own blood. Joe shocked, fell back onto the seat of his pants. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911.