STONY WAS in a good mood. Wednesday. Two days to go. Monday, back to Cresthaven.
"You know, you got a really good voice." Stony smiled curiously at Malfie, who was busy feeding cable into the mouth of a pipe. Malfie made like he didn't hear Stony and kept singing in a high, yet throaty tremolo.
Stony bent down and continued pulling cable from a similar pipe. Malfie was the best-looking guy Stony had ever seen. He had a tight and smooth profile that seemed almost manicured with high cheekbones, a small, slightly upturned nose, thin, perfectly defined lips and glittering blue eyes. He combed his dirty blond hair high and straight back. When he was finished feeding cable he stood up. Tall and thin. A real killer.
"You ever hear a the Convoys?" he asked Stony. Stony stopped working and turned to Malfie.
"Yeah, they did what...'Rock 'n' Roll Serenade.'"
Malfie nodded slightly. "Yeah, I used to sing with them."
Stony stopped working. "You shittin' me?"
Malfie casually threw out a couple of powerful ooh-wahs that echoed throughout the cavernous level where he, Stony and about ten other electricians were circuiting wire through a field of pipes.
"Goddamn! Whatta you doin' here?"
"I quit two years ago." He moved to another pipe five feet away, knelt down and started shoving the braided multicolored strands down its mouth. "It's comin' out up there." Malfie tilted his head at a short pipe protruding from the poured concrete ceiling. The head of the cable peeked out where Malfie indicated, and he waited for Stony to climb a stepladder and pull out the wires before he continued feeding his end of the pipe.
"Wha'd you quit for?" Stony grunted. The wires were snagged somewhere in the invisible network of conduit. He teased and tugged the cable until it came loose.
"Lucy," Malfie sang something in husky Spanish.
"You know Spanish?"
"Si, por supuesto."
"You're fuckin' amazin'." Stony stopped for a second to adjust his work gloves, flexing his fingers for a tighter fit.
"My father knew seven tongues." Kneeling, Malfie bounced Tightly on the balls of his feet to keep his circulation going. He tied the end of the cable with a few deft movements.
"French, Italian, Spanish, German, Dutch, Portuguese and English. He met my mother in Cuba."
"Your mother Spanish?" The wire pulled taut on Stony's end and Malfie tied it off for him.
"From Havana, we lived there until Castro came in." For the first time Stony noticed a slight staccato clip in Malfie's speech. "Had maids an' everything. My father was head croupier in one a the biggest casinos down there. El Gato Negro." Malfie finished tying the wires, stepped back and extracted a pack of unfiltered Kools.from the chest pocket of his beige workshirt. Stony declined the offered pack, taking out one of his own Marlboros. Malfie held out a red see-through butane lighter under Stony's cigarette. None of the brickwork had yet been started on the exterior walls, even though the small octagonal concrete foundations for the terraces jutted out over the edge of the building. They stood twenty stories high between two layers of concrete overlooking the Hudson. The vast floor was a maze of chalk lines and markings noting the outlines of walls and apartment partitions yet to be installed. Every thirty feet or so sat a bathtub and a toilet bowl—which wouldn't fit through the narrow doorways once the walls were built. It was a gray day and the somber light lent the place the mood of a deserted underground garage. Augie ambled over to one of the protruding borderless terraces, stood spread-legged, whipped out his dick and pissed into the Hudson.
Stony looked over the field of toilets and shrugged.
"My father knew Batista." Malfie spat neatly. "We had everything, man. I even had my own fuckin' horse, until that scumbag with the beard came in." He picked his front teeth.
Stony leaned against the ladder enjoying his smoke.
"You know, my father was French." Malfie delicately scratched a raised eyebrow. "So I got French blood. That's why I'm light and that's why I'm tall." Then he added almost as an afterthought, "It's good to be tall, because in a fight you can't get to my face. Look, I don't give a flying fuck what a guy does or says to me but nobody touches my face. He makes one move to hit my face, I'll kill him. The only time I hit Lucy was once she went to slap me. I don't take that from nobody, even her. The only person I let hit me like that was my mother, and she only did it once." Malfie spoke calmly and earnestly. Stony made a mental note never to bash in Malfie's face.
"I hit your face and take the back a your head off." Augie walked over to the ladder, rested a boot on the second rung, his elbow on his knee. He looked like Fred Flintstone—big, lumpy and hairy.
"Then I come after you with a gun." Malfie didn't blink. Augie laughed, winking at Stony. "I ain't kiddin'. I'll blow you apart." Malfie's voice kept rising. He took a step toward Augie.
"Relax, hah?" Augie examined a chunk of snot on his pinky.
"I ain't fuckin' around wit' you, you guinea prick." Malfie lightly touched his high cheekbones. His face was getting red. He took another step toward Augie. "You touch me, I'll tear your heart out."
Augie affected a yawn. He knew he could break Malfie in two, but he was an easygoing guy who enjoyed razzing excitable people. Malfie was crazy and had no sense of humor. "See ya, Malfie." Augie flicked the snot off his finger and strolled away.
"I'll kill that motherfucker." Malfie's eyes were buzzing with rage as he pointed a quivering finger at Stony.
Malfie had Stony pulling wire at a furious pace the rest of the morning. There was no more conversation. Malfie stormed around the pipes muttering incoherently, occasionally barking orders at Stony.
At noon, the electricians returned to the shanty to pick up their lunches. Stony got ready to go to the traffic island with his father and some of the other guys.
"Malfie, you comin'?" he forced a friendly tone.
Malfie ignored him, roughly shouldering his way through a half-dozen electricians loitering around the shanty door. He walked rapidly to a beat-up old pink Cadillac parked by the entrance to the site. A young Puerto Rican girl sat in the passenger seat. Malfie got in on the driver's side, slammed the door and screeched onto the Parkway.
"That's the last we'll see a him today," Artie La Russo bitched, watching the Cadillac disappear. "That fucker bastard pulls that on me one more time I'll have him on unemployment so fast." The electricians knew Artie was talking out of his ass. He was afraid of Malfie and said that every time Malfie took off in the middle of the day.
"That fuckin' kid's ready for the couch," Tommy said.
"Let's eat!" said Augie.