Entering Kaffman’s bar and sitting on a stool, Tom ordered a Ballantine beer, locally brewed on Staten Island. Looking around, Tom saw that the place was sparsely filled with customers, particularly for a Friday night.
“Mackie’s back in town. Where have you been?” said the red-faced bartender, sliding a sudsy glass of beer toward Tom.
“I’ve been helping this guy fix up a house for the homeless in Mariners Harbor,” the young science teacher said after taking a sip of the beer.
“One of them do-gooders? Hold onto your wallet,” Rudy warned.
“Nah. It’s nothing like that. He doesn’t give a shit about money.”
“Sounds like your dad. He liked to buy drinks all around when he was flush.”
“Which wasn’t very often,” Tom replied cynically.
“Then your mom would come around and curse me out for serving him. She was one tough lady,” Rudy observed.
Just then Martha burst into the hazy saloon and plopped hard on the bar stool next to Tom, giving him a sloppy kiss and a tight squeeze that left the skinny teacher breathless.
“What a day I had today. You know that redheaded kid Jimmy? He kept on jumping out of his seat. I was this close to belting him!” she complained.
“Do the nuns still hit kids when they’re out of line?” Tom asked.
“Of course not. This isn’t the 1950s. The only one who needs a good spanking is yours truly,” she replied angrily.
“You can spank me anytime. As long as I get to return the favor … with your britches off.”
“Let’s go bowling first. And then we’ll see about who’s gonna spank who in your run-down old Pontiac,” she replied with a wry smile.
“Well, I had other plans. I thought you might like helping Amon with that house on Simonson Avenue. Mary will be there lending a hand also.”
“Mary’s in love with a zealot. Some life she’ll have with him, living on that old, rat-infested tugboat,” Martha exclaimed.
“He’s not a zealot. He’s a person who tries to do the right thing in life. He has some amazing powers. I’m beginning to believe that he is an avatar.”
“Sure, Tom. He’s the messiah—the Messiah of Mariners Harbor,” she yelled as some of the patrons stared at the angry young woman.
“I told him I’d stop over tonight. We’ll go bowling tomorrow night, I promise. No reason to get all bent out of shape,” he called out to his feisty, big-boned girlfriend as she stormed out of Kaffman’s, nearly knocking an elderly man who had just entered the dingy bar.