Frank Zafiro - Blood on Blood

“Yeah.”

“All right then, good morning, Mr. Sawyer. This is Doctor Bradford. I’m the head physician at Columbia Correctional Facility here in Portage, Wisconsin.”

“Well, that’s great, doctor. I’m the new mayor here in Chicago, Illinois. According to my phone it’s six fucking thirty in the morning. So, you have about ten seconds more until I go away.”

“You’re a hard man to get a hold of. I have called relatives and — “

“Five seconds.”

What the hell was this shit?

“Very well then, as you probably already know, your father, Mr. Garnett Sawyer, is incarcerated here at Columbia.”

“Probably, I do know that, yes. Is there any other newsflash you might have for me here, doctor? If so, spit it the fuck out.”

“Your father is not a well man. In fact, he’s very sick. I’m sorry to inform you that it is terminal and has been for some time now. He made a request that I call you so that you can come to say goodbye.”

I wasn’t all that surprised but it still hurt. It got my attention. Fuck me.

“He wants to see you as soon as possible. There really isn’t too much time. As a rule, we normally have very strict visiting hours but I have made arrangements for you and your family.”

“My family?”

“I’ve already spoken with your brother and mother. We’ll get you in to see him as soon as you can make it here.”

Shit. This is going to be a jumble fuck if there ever was one. Shit. I realize I have been pacing around the room and not staggering anymore. This call has sobered my drunk ass right up.

“Yeah, yeah, I understand. Sure, I’ll be there soon.”

“Once again, Mr. Sawyer, there is not much time. In terms of soon , what were you thinking?”

“Look, Dr. Bradford from bum-fuck Wisconsin, I said exactly what I was thinking. Soon. That’s what I’m thinking. Soon, got it?”

“Very well. Do you know of this facility? Where we are located?”

“Yeah, I know the place. And how’s this, a day maybe. At the most, two days. I’ll be there.”

I snap my phone shut and stare down at the floor.

Motherfucker, I can’t believe this but then again I can. I mean the old man had lived crazy and rough his entire life, so it wasn’t like this couldn’t have been about ten other things…and ten years earlier. Man, this is gonna blow, big time. I mean Mick, what the shit was that dumbass up to these days? I stopped having a brother a long, long fuckin’ time ago. My mom, what have I got to say to her? What have I got say to any of ‘em, including the old man?

He’s my old man, though, and I guess that he did his best when we were younger. Despite what my righteous ass brother might think, life is nothin’ but a crapshoot anyway. You play what you get dealt. No guarantees in this game and every father can’t be Time Magazine’s fuckin’ Man of the Year.

I’m staring at the phone but out of the corner of my eye I see it. Over on the floor, in the corner. Next to the wastebasket. Laying there right out in front of God and everybody was the third bundle of money. Probably dropped out of my jacket last night while we were doing the dance.

I look around at her and she was sitting up now with the sheets pulled up around her. She’s just watching me, calm as shit.

“ Jestem zalujacym dzieckiem, ” I say.. I point at myself, then the money on the floor. I slump my shoulders and then give her my best puppy dog look. “I’m just an ass and I didn’t mean to hurt you. This is a onetime only though, ‘cause I’m never wrong and never sorry. ”

She smiles sweetly and holds out her arms to me. “So you gotta go, huh? That didn’t sound too good on the phone. I hope it’s nothing too serious.”

She brushes her hair out of her face and the sheet drops. For a very long second I’m thinking, hey, I got a little more time. Forget the fact that I was trying to choke her to death a minute ago. I can still see the red marks on her neck and I guess I feel a little bad about that. Instead, I try to focus on the different voice I just heard come out of her.

“Whoa, now. What happened to my little Polish immigrant bartender?”

“Oh, I’m all Polack,” she says, “but I’m a Chicago girl all the way, born and bred. I’m a Cubs fan, hate the Sox, love the Bears and know a few of the Blackhawks players.” She winks at me and gives me that sweet smile.

“So, wait here now. What was with the accent and the eastern European mail order bride thing?” I can’t help but smile back at her.

“I go to night school at DePaul and I really needed this job I got a month ago at Ambrozy’s.” She still has the accent but it’s very slight, just slinky enough. “My parents basically disowned me a few years ago, so I’ve kinda been on my own.”

“I still don’t get the need for all the broken English, innocence and not understanding anything.”

“If I’ve learned one thing quickly with the crowd at Ambrozy’s, and Patrik in particular, it pays to be cautious. You just never know. Sometimes,” she puts the innocent confused look back on her face, “is better to not speak English very well and to, uh, how you say? Be clueless? Eh? Stay out of your business, whatever it is you do. You could have been a very bad man.”

“I am, Annie. I’m a very bad man.”

“But you wouldn’t kill me, Jerzy. I believe you’re smarter than that.”

“I like the way you think.”

“I like the way you look.” She laughs and nods at me with a raised eyebrow. “And it’s Ania.”

“Ania.” I start throwing my clothes on. “I like that name.”

“So did my parents, I guess.” She watches me getting dressed. “So okay, we’ve established that you are definitely a dangerous man. Then again, I’ve always liked dangerous.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“You really have to go now, don’t you? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, gotta run. Everything is never okay, Ania. Just some things are. This thing with us was definitely okay.”

I find my shoulder holster and gun under the bed and loop it on. She’s watching close, taking it all in.

“So, what are you doing in college?”

“Studying psychology, I like that, too. I’m going to be a shrink someday.”

“Holy shit, and you say I’m dangerous. You could be doing a fuckin’ study on me right now.” I throw on my jacket and put the money in my inside pockets. I’m ready to hit it. I’ll have to stop by the dump I’ve been calling home since getting out of Joliet. Get cleaned up a little and pack a few clothes.

I head back over to the bed, lean over and give her a kiss. No time for long goodbyes here, not that there would have been one, anyway. I turn to go, but stop.

“You okay, Ania?”

What the hell am I saying? Like I give a shit.

“Sure, Jerzy.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t mean anything earlier. I just thought you shook me down. I hope you don’t bruise real easy.”

“No worries. I’m a big girl.”

“Sure, sure. What are ya, all of twenty one, twenty two or some crazy ass age like that?”

“Close.”

“You work a lot of hours at Ambrozy?”

“As many as I can get.”

“Is bartending all he’s got you doing?”

She just shrugged. “I wear a few different hats.”

“Be careful with that. Patrik paying you good?”

“He pays me more in a week than my father ever made for a month of laying brick all over this town. The apartment is rented pretty cheap to me and a few Ambrozy employees live here, too. Patrik owns this building now.”

“Yeah? Well, okay. You take care of yourself and maybe I’ll drop in again for a drink soon.”

“I’ll be there.”

I pat my pockets for the car keys and find them.