The Christmas Kid by Pete Hamill Read Free Book Online Page B

you bought some flowers from a flower seller and laid them on the steps of the Custom House, because Melville once worked there. And we took three round trips on the Staten Island Ferry….”
    “We were very tired, we were very merry….”
    “The poem was terrible, but it seemed to fit.”
    “Yes. It seemed to fit.…”
    She was quiet then. They sat very still. Mitchell picked up the bottle of wine and filled their glasses again. Then he looked into her face.
    “We can’t go to any of those places anymore,” he said.
    She shook her head, her eyes brimming.
    He kissed her on the mouth, and then he reached for the pills.

Changing of the Guard
    SANNO SAT FOR A long time in the Eldorado with Ralphie Boy, both staring at the lights of the restaurant across the street. They were parked on a pump, the lights out, the engine running so the wipers could peel back the rain. Sanno rubbed his eyes, wishing he could go home to Brooklyn, get in bed with Marie, watch Johnny Carson. I’m sixty-two years old, he thought; I should be on a bench somewhere in Florida, not sitting here in the rain.
    “I don’t like it,” Ralphie Boy said.
    “Neither do I,” Sanno said wearily. “But what the hell.”
    “Anyway, Junior’s in there,” Ralphie Boy said. “And Sidge. And Tony Dee. The guy tries anything, they destroy him.”
    “He won’t try anything,” Sanno said. “He’s too smart.”
    “He’s a freaking maniac,” Ralphie Boy said. “All them Cubans are maniacs.”
    “He’s Colombian, Ralph,” Sanno said. “That’s a different country from Cuba.”
    “Cuba. Colombia. They’re all maniacs. Women, children, girls. They hit anybody. They don’t care. Look at them nuns was killed down in Nicaragua.”
    “It was El Salvador, Ralph.”
    “You know what I mean. They’re all freakin’ nuts.”
    Sanno glanced at his watch. “I better go in.”
    “I’ll be right here.”
    Sanno got out and hurried through the rain to the restaurant. There was a bar to the right and then an entryway into a large room with booths along the wall to the left, tables filling the room, a trio playing tepidly at the far end. Sanno gave his hat and coat to the hatcheck girl and turned to the maître d’.
    “Carlos,” Sanno said, and the maître d’ nodded and led him through the crowded room to the booths. The Colombian was sitting alone. He was tanned, clean-shaven, and as he rose slightly in the booth and extended his hand, Sanno thought: a banker. Sanno shook the man’s hand and sat facing him. A Rolex gleamed on his left wrist.
    “Good to meet you,” Carlos said, in slightly accented English. “I hear about you a long time.”
    “I heard about you, too.”
    Carlos laughed. “Hey, don’t believe everything you hear, okay?” He waved to a waiter. “Drink?”
    “Scotch would help. Ice. Soda.”
    Carlos ordered in Spanish. Sanno turned to look at the trio, which was playing “We’ll Be Together Again.” He saw Junior eating alone at a small table. Sidge was at the bar, facing the mirror. He couldn’t see Tony Dee.
    “The other one’s down in the john,” Carlos said, smiling. “He should be back soon.”
    Sanno stared blankly at the younger man. One waiter brought the Scotch and soda and placed it before Sanno on a plate. A second waiter brought Carlos a fresh cup of coffee.
    “What do you want?” Sanno said.
    “Everything.”
    Sanno felt the whiskey burn its way through him and then settle and grow warm.
    “You really are crazy,” Sanno said. “Like they said.”
    “You asked a question, you got an answer.”
    “You better study a little more English, pal,” Sanno said. “Like that word ‘everything.’ I don’t think you know what it means.”
    “It means the jukeboxes. It means the loan-sharking in the produce market. It means the line to Montreal. And, oh, yeah, it means the union, too. I like that part mos’ of all. I like the union. I like everything.” He sipped the coffee. “One of my favorite