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The ringing in Eddie’s ears made him pause. Killing the dog had not been in his plan.
Dario’s eyes popped. “Barkley! No!”
Ms. Tucker raised her hands to her head as tears filled her eyes. After a second of disbelief, she and Dario fell to the floor next to their now-dead dog, while Eddie shook his bitten hand and checked his pants and shoes for any residual mess.
From the floor next to Barkley, Ms. Tucker looked up at Eddie, her face twisted with anguish. “What are you doin’?” she squealed. “Why’d you do that?” She turned back to the dog. “Barkley!”
The sound of Cody running came from upstairs. He cried out for his mom.
“Don’t you come down here, Cody!” she sobbed. “Everything’s okay, baby. Stay up there. Turn around and go back. Now!”
Cody obeyed his mother and his footsteps faded back up the stairs.
Eddie watched, unmoved, as Dario knelt next to his mother and the two of them cried over the lifeless body of their beloved pet. Eddie felt bad about the dog, but the damn thing had attacked him. He was comfortable with his decision.
Eddie stepped away from the bloody heap and returned the gun to its new home—tucked inside his belt. He walked to the front door and peeked out. He checked left, then right, for any neighbors who may be running out to check on the gunshot. Nothing. He waited another minute before he closed the door and locked it.
He returned to the bloody scene. “Alright,” he said. “Everybody calm down.”
Ms. Tucker, still on her knees with blood soaking into her sweatpants, held her dog as she sobbed. Eddie bent forward and gave Ms. Tucker a stern look. “You can blame your son for this.”
Ms. Tucker looked up at him.
Eddie continued. “Your neighbors came to me cuz’ Dario’s been shootin’ bullets into their houses and breakin’ their windows. He could-a’ killed somebody. Did you know about any-a this?”
Ms. Tucker’s pained expression turned to shock. She shook her head, wiping the endless tears with the bottom of her gray t-shirt, now darkened with Barkley’s blood.
“No. I never know what he’s doin’,” she cried. She scrambled to her feet and Eddie took her arm to help her.
“He’s gone all hours of the night.” Her cracking voice grew louder, angrier through her tears. “He don’t respect me. He don’t listen to me.” She pointed at her eye. “And this is how he treats me. What am I supposed to do?”
Eddie scowled at Dario. “You don’t gotta’ worry about that no more, Ms. Tucker.” He walked over to Dario and slapped him across his face. Dario cried out as he bent forward, bringing up his arms, bracing for more.
Ms. Tucker came between them. “Stop it—please! Stop hurting him!”
Eddie dropped his hand and stared at her. “The-fuck’s the matter with you, lady?”
She wrung her hands. “What?”
He pointed at Dario. “Why are you protectin’ him when you just told me he don’t respect you? Or listen to you? And ... hits you?”
Ms. Tucker looked at Dario. “He’s my son,” she whimpered. “I love him.”
Eddie shook his head and threw up his hands. He leaned in to her. “Un-fuckin-believable.” He turned to Dario and jammed his finger at him. “This shit stops right now.”
“What? What shit?”
“What are you? Some kinda’ fuckin’ idiot? Everything you’re doin’—and not doin’. It all stops. Right now. Capisci? From this moment on, you’re mine. You will listen to your mother. You will respect your mother, and you will stop the bullshit in this neighborhood. No more shootin’, no more nothin’. You answer to me and you’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you. You got that?”
Dario looked at his feet but nodded.
“Now. Are there any other weapons in this fu-cking house?”
Eddie moved back in on Dario and jabbed a finger at him.
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, kid.”
“Got one in my dresser.”
Ms. Tucker threw up her hands. “Dario!”
“Get it.”
Dario walked toward a short hallway.
Eddie followed close behind, careful to step around the pool of dark blood now doubled in size around the lifeless animal.
They crossed through a small but tidy kitchen and turned left into a room off the back door. Dario flipped on the light and kicked away a pile of clothes and shoes strewn across the floor as he made his way to an old, beat-up dresser. He yanked open the third drawer, tossed around some underwear and t-shirts, and reached in for the piece.
“Uh—nope. Don’t touch it,” said Eddie. He wrapped his fingers around the first gun still tucked inside his jacket and pushed Dario aside. A black .38 snub nose with a brown wooden handle sat near the back of the drawer along with a box of shells. Eddie bent down and grabbed them both. He examined the piece quickly and stuffed it into one of his jacket pockets and put the box into the other.
Dario shook his head and threw up his hands. “Come on, man. You can’t leave me with nothin’.”
Eddie snarled. “Move. Back into the living room.”
They returned to the living room. Ms. Tucker quickly stood up from the sofa when she heard them reenter.
Eddie spoke to the two of them. “Ms. Tucker, like I told ya’−” Eddie tipped his head at Dario—“Dario’s been shootin’ at some kid across the street and bullets have been flying into my friend, Mrs. Fortunato’s, house. In case you don’t know, she’s your next-door-neighbor.”
Ms. Tucker nodded. “Yes, we know Mrs. Fortunato.”
Eddie nodded. “Oh, so you do know her.” He gestured for them both to sit.
He paced in front of them a few feet in either direction. “Well, what you might not know, is that Mrs. Fortunato has lived in this neighborhood—”Eddie pointed at the wall in the direction of Micola’s house—“that house—for over forty years.”
He turned to face the two of them. “Forty years. Think about that. She’s been here longer than anybody in this neighborhood. And you know what? She’s a nice lady and she don’t deserve nothin’ but your respect.” He looked at Dario. “You understand me?”
Dario nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’m not gonna’ let you or that kid across the street, whatever the fuck his name is, or anybody else, upset her by shootin’ up her house or whatever else you punks like to do.”
Eddie put his hands on his hips. “Now, does that other guy live right across from you?”
Dario stared at him.
Eddie leaned forward. “Don’t play dumb with me. The Asian kid.” He snapped his fingers. “What the fuck’s his name? Chow?”
Dario straightened and nodded. “It’s Tau. He lives right across the street from the old lady.”
Eddie lightly smacked Dario across his head.
Dario bent sideways. “Owe, man! Come on! What’s wrong with you?”
“The-fuck did I just tell you about respect?”
“Sorry! I meant, Mrs. Fortunato.”
“That’s better. You’re finally gettin’ the picture. You start respectin’ your mother, Mrs. Fortunato, and this entire fuckin’ neighborhood, or you’ll be answerin’ to me the hard way, you understand?”
Dario said nothing. Eddie smacked him in the head again and leaned in. He spoke slowly, quietly. “Do−you−understand me?”
“Yeah! Yes! I understand. Please stop hittin’ me.”
“Okay.” Eddie stepped back and nodded. He folded his arms, admiring his progress.
He turned to Ms. Tucker. “I’ll be leavin’ now.”
She let out a breath and nodded, wiping her cheeks.
“And your son? He’s comin’ with me.”
Dario and his mother jumped to their feet. “What?” she yelled. “No! You can’t do that. Please, mister. Don’t take my son. I’m beggin’ you.”
“Yeah, come on man,” Dario said. “What do you need with me anyways? I promise I’ll stay outta’ your business.”
“Actually,” Eddie said, “you’re now in my business.”
Ms. Tucker straightened and opened her mouth to speak, but Dario beat her to it.
“Say what now?”
“As of this very fuckin’ minute, you work for me.”
Dario started pacing in a circle in front of Eddie. “Oh, hell no. I ain’t workin’ for you, man. You’ll kill me. I know it.”
“Damn right I’ll fuckin’ kill ya’.”
Eddie looked at Ms. Tucker and gave her a quick smile and a wink. He continued. “I’ll kill you right fuckin’ now if you don’t get your shit and come with me. And I might kill you later if you fuck up. So shut up and get your shit.”
“What am I supposed to do with Barkley?” asked Ms. Tucker. “I don’t want Cody seeing him like this.”
Eddie looked down at the poor dead dog. “You know what? You’re right, Ms. Tucker. You got a shovel ‘round here?”
“Out back, in the garage.”
Eddie patted Dario on the back. “Take care-a the dog. Bury it in the backyard. I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up.”
Dario put his good hand to his head. “What? Man, why do I got to clean this shit up? You killed him.”
Eddie’s hand was quickly around Dario’s throat, giving it a gentle but firm squeeze. Dario blinked and choked.
“Just do it, Dario,” cried Ms. Tucker. “Stop agitatin’ the man. Please.”
Dario’s eyes bulged as he tried to peel away from Eddie’s strong grip. “Okay,” he said, gagging. “I’ll do it.”
Eddie released his fingers. “Like I said, I’ll be back in an hour. Make sure this floor’s cleaned up, too.”
Dario flipped up his one good hand, flinching. “Man, I’m gonna need more’n an hour.” He raised his hand as a reminder. “Look at my hand. It’s practically broken.”
Eddie grabbed Dario’s wrist and looked at it closely, twisting it. Dario flinched but kept quiet. “Broken? This ain’t broken.” Eddie abruptly released it and walked to the front door. He turned back and looked at the two of them.
He pointed at Dario. “Two hours.”
Eddie turned to Dario’s mother. “Now, Ms. Tucker. You will not call the police. Do you understand? If you do, Dario’s blood will be on your hands. Got it?”
Ms. Tucker nodded. “Yes. Please don’t hurt my boy.”
“If he behaves, he’ll be fine.”
Turning to Dario, Eddie said, “Bury the dog out back and keep your mouth shut. Both-a-ya’s. Understand?”
Dario and his mom nodded silently.
Eddie turned and opened the door. With his back to them, he said, “See you in two, Dario.”
He closed the door and walked out, a humid breeze straining his meticulously styled mane. He immediately heard shouting coming from inside the house which made him smile. That over-confident smartass kid now belonged to him. That was pretty easy. He chuckled as he headed back to Micola’s house.
As he strutted along, he patted the guns and smiled. Now, he needed a car.
