Dave Zeltserman - Small crimes

'I'm sorry, but that's against hospital policy,' she said. I could tell she wasn't happy with the policy. Her eyes brightened. 'Charlotte might be listed in the phonebook.'

She found the Bradley phonebook and started searching through it. 'Here it is.' She pointed the listing out to me. I borrowed a pen from her and wrote the address and phone number on the back of the scrap of paper on which I'd written Elaine's phone number.

'I hope she's home,' she said.

'I hope so too,' I agreed. 'She's all I'm able to think about right now.'

She gave me another of those isn't that so sweet smiles. I nodded to her as I headed off in the direction of the terminal patient ward. She looked a little confused. I guess she had expected me to run off and try to find Charlotte. But there was something else I needed to do first.

When I got to Manny's room, I found him alone. He was propped up on his bed watching TV. His eyes shifted to the side as he noticed me, but he didn't say anything.

'Jesus Christ,' I said. I thought you'd be keeled over and dead by now. So much for wishful thinking.'

He scrunched up what was left of his face and made an expression as if he had tasted something foul. 'You kiss your ma with a mouth like that?' he asked. His expression shifted to something ill tempered. 'And don't worry about me,' he added. I got two months left and I'm going to be here every goddam second of it.'

I walked over to his bed and sat on the side of it. I could tell he didn't like me sitting there, but he didn't say anything. 'What are you watching?' I asked.

'Pats-Jets game,' he muttered, half under his breath. Then his body started to convulse with what must've been laughter. It sounded more like a broken garbage disposal. 'You want any action on it, call my son,' he said when he could. 'Any amount you want to put down.' Then he started laughing some more. When he finished, he asked, 'What the hell you want?'

'Nothing much. I just thought I'd visit an old friend.’ I got news for you, I never thought of us as friends.’

‘Yeah, well, neither did I.'

'What do you know? You're not as dumb as I thought you were. So what you here for?'

'It kind of bothered me the way we left things the other day,' I said.

He didn't respond. He just shifted his cold, dead eyes sideways so he could watch me.

'After all,' I said, 'I have no right to tell you what you can and can't do. If you want to confess all your sins to Phil that's your business. I just don't see what good it would do you. I'm curious, why not make a confession to a real priest? Phil's not even Catholic.'

'Who says I want to confess jack to anyone?'

'Come on, Manny, I'm just talking hypothetical. I don't blame you for wanting to unburden yourself. But why not do it right and use a priest? I can help you find one if you want.'

His wasted face puckered up into something akin to aggrievement. I never liked priests much,' he said.

'Look, Manny, have you talked this over with your son? He's not going to be happy with this. Even if Phil honors the deal you make, Manny Jr. is going to lose everything he's got. And he'll be watched by the law every second of the rest of his life. You'll be forcing him into a mundane, blue-collar existence. He'll probably end up having to bag groceries at Food Mart.'

As I stared at him, as I watched him shift uncomfortably in his bed, I realized that he wasn't just trying to save his own soul. That part of his rationale for making a deal with Phil was to force Junior out of the business. That he was trying to save Junior's soul also.

I started laughing. I couldn't help myself. As Manny stared back at me, I could see in his eyes that he knew that I knew what was really going on. There was no kidding each other anymore.

'You should think about getting your affairs in order, Joe.' I appreciate your concern.'

We were both quiet then, both deep in our own thoughts. After a while Manny announced that he was feeling tired and he wanted me to leave.

'And don't bother blabbing your ideas to my son,' he warned me.’

‘Cause I admitted nothing.'

As I looked at him, I felt a blind fury overtake me. This sonofabitch was all set to ruin me because of some bullshit notion of saving his psychotic lunatic son.

'It's not going to be as simple as you think, Manny,' I said.

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'You don't, huh? You think everything a criminal like you says is going to be taken at face value?'

'Look Joe, you're the convicted felon here, not me. And I'm not saying I'm confessing anything. But if I do, it's going to be the truth.'

'The truth according to who? A piece of scum like you?'

"The truth, Joe. Like how you were the guy who beat Billy Ferguson to death.'

He showed me that 'go screw yourself smile of his that I knew so well, and as I watched him gloat I could feel a hotness flush my face. He got to me. That was still no excuse, but he got to me.

'So that's going to be your story?' I half heard myself asking. "The thing is I remember playing poker that night and I'm sure I can line up friends who'll vouch for me. So who did you really send to collect? Junior? Is that what this is all about?'

His body started convulsing again, making that same broken-down garbage disposal noise. When he was done laughing, he looked me straight in the eye. 'What friends you got these days, Joe?' he asked, and then he started laughing again, his body convulsing harder than before.

I had to get out of there. I knew I made a mistake talking about

Billy Ferguson with him, but as I had said, he got to me, and the words just slipped out. I couldn't help myself. Everything was a haze as I made my way towards the elevator and then down to the main lobby. I could sort of make out Alice Cook as I walked past her desk. I think she said something to me, but I'm not sure. I just had to get out of there. I had to get that noise of his convulsing laughter out of my head. When I got to my car I sat for a long time. There was no doubt about any of it anymore. There was no longer even a tiny glimmer of hope. If I didn't shut Manny up I was going to be spending the rest of my days in prison.

Charlotte Boyd lived in the Maple Farms apartment complex off of Route Two. The apartment complex was built in the early sixties and was an eyesore. A four-story concrete structure housing close to eighty apartments. Each unit had its own balcony where the outer wall was made up of colored sheet metal, the colors ranging from purple to lime green to a dull yellow. I don't know what the architect could possibly have been thinking.

I found Charlotte's apartment number and dialed it up on the intercom system. After about a minute I heard some static and then what I thought was her voice, but I wasn't sure. I pressed the talk button and announced who I was. Another thirty seconds and I was buzzed in.

When I got to her door I knocked. I heard some movement from behind it and could tell she was using her peephole. The door opened a few inches and I heard her soft voice asking me to come in.

'I have several cats,' she explained in what was barely over a whisper. 'I don't want to leave the door open because they might run out.'

I squeezed through the opening and shut the door behind me. Charlotte was standing in front of me, her large hazel eyes holding steady on mine. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was dressed in jeans and a University of Toronto sweatshirt. She looked younger than when I saw her the day before. She also looked prettier. Her nurse's uniform had hung on her like a curtain. With her jeans on, I could tell her body had more of a definition to it than I would've thought. Also, her eyes didn't seem all that nervous anymore.

'Hi, Charlotte. I was hoping to find you at home.'