Copper, Page 2

  Chapter 2

  “I told you get out, you beast you!” Mama Cruse yelled at them, pounding up and down the narrow hall of the trailer the Cruse family called home, or hell depending on the day.

  Joseph looked at Danny as he packed a few bags. “Danny, I am sorry you have to put up with this from Mama and all.”

  Danny gave a frightened look at Mama Cruse, who was slamming things around, pots, pans and the broom. Danny grabbed a few pairs of socks for Joseph, handing them over to him. “Joe what about the TV and all, why she let it go?”

  “Don't remind me,” Joseph said giving Danny a steely but loving look. He just had to be firm. He knew very well that she did not pay the bill on purpose, “Danny, I will help you pay it this month.”

  Danny was very uncomfortable still dancing a bit around, squirming a bit at the loud noise a pan made as Mama Cruse dropped it onto the kitchen floor. “But, Joe, I can't.”

  Joseph had to get away from this. “Look, Danny, I can't be everywhere and I can't be nowhere, which is right here. I can't baby-sit this house and this family forever. I mean where the hell is the rest of this family? Huh?”

  Danny found a paper binder. “This too?”

  Joe nodded. “You can put that in my backpack.”

  Danny peeked into the other room as Mama Cruse began to quiet down. Mama Cruse turned to him and brushed her brunt Auburn hair back. “I hate you and your brother, but you especially, daemon seed!”

  Danny seeing this scampered back to Joe, his large frame reverberating through the metal trailer pleading. “Joe, Joe!”

  Joseph was sick of it. “Danny, listen, she is full of it! Just deal with it for now. I have been the adult and the parent of this family long enough. I have to go. I have to see Kevin and then I am out to college for the semester. I won't be that far. I am just a phone call away.”

  Danny began to cry a bit, finding some underwear, a tee-shirt and handing them to Joseph. “I aren’t smart like you, Joe. I am just Danny.”

  Joe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I will help you if you should need it, but what you need is time and I need time. When you really need me, I will be there. You can do more than you every thought you could. I know you Dan and you're smarter than you think.”

  Danny smiled a weak smile. “Yeah you think, Joe Joe?”

  Joseph drove around and found some parking near Kevin’s apartment on Broadway. He skipped putting a quarter in the meter. The city never checked those things anyway; they had bigger troubles to deal with on a daily basis. Joe stepped out of his car, locked the door and ran up to Kevin’s front door. Joseph felt his wallet. He had a hundred dollars cash and he sure did not want to lose it. Joe waited hesitantly, looking back and forth down the sidewalk. Kevin did not answer. Joseph knocked louder hurting his hand once again. He hated steel doors. After a few minutes, Joseph remembered what Kevin had said about Omar and became concerned. He thought a moments and then headed down the street to find Paco.

  Paco was trying to hide from the sun under the small overhang of the bar room at the ground floor of his building. Paco was picking at his long, greasy hair, rolling a cigarette from a little loose tobacco someone have given him. He fumbled with the paper and some of the tobacco fell on the ground. Paco looked down and the cigarette paper dropped to the sidewalk as well. He reached forlornly for the paper, but he was too high up in his wheel chair, the old cracked tires putting the paper just out of reach of his fingertips. Joe rushed over to him, Paco noticing out of the corner of his eyes, looking up. “What you want, gringo?”

  Joe felt his wallet again. “You know where Kevin is?”

  “He ain’t my brother.”

  Joe wiped the sweat from his brow. “You know everything Paco, you snoop everywhere.”

  Paco reached again for the paper. Joe picked it up and held between his thumb and forefinger, creasing it. Paco looked up. “You’re an ass.”

  Joseph went to walk away. “Well, Paco I thought I would ask. I am just concerned.”

  Paco shook his head holding out his hand. “Check the local crack house, he's a pipe sucker anyway.”

  Joseph gave him the paper. “Okay, Paco, but you're not so hot yourself.”

  Paco took the paper and asked, a little more politely. “You have a cigarette?”

  Joe began to walk away and waved low behind him disgusted. “No.”

  Paco shook his fist at him and in doing so lost the paper again. “Shit, you fool! I run your ass over!”

  Joseph yelled behind him, now down the street. “Thanks, Pac.”

  He ran down Broadway towards the riverfront. Joseph did not honestly know where to go to find his friend. He paused catching his breath as he felt the butterfly’s in his stomach gnaw at him. Joe felt a wave of queasiness roll up into his chest as he turned down a side ally. There by some unknown miracle he found Kevin, wedged in a gutter between two buildings. He was on his knees slumped over, with the wall of one of the buildings holding him up, keeping him from falling over completely. Joseph ran over and pulled him up. Kevin’s face was smashed, his cheek and nose fractured, blood all over his face, his shirt and jeans. Joseph shook him. “Kevin, what the hell happened?” He tried to talk, but he was half-conscious. Joe shook him again attempting to keep him conscious. “Kevin, man, what happened?”

  Kevin pulled away, spit blood, teeth and wiped his mouth. “I…someone jumped me...”

  Joseph grabbed his friend and helped him out of the gutter. “Come on Kev, I'll take you to the hospital. I got some money for you too.”

  Johnny’s bar was nothing more than a hole in the wall on Carter Street in Townley. David was sitting half off a ripped bar stool taking double shots of Jack. He was eying his girl Tonya’s backside as she moved around the dim room, her jeans one size too small. The bar was dark and musty. The poor old air conditioner wedged into the back wall of the room was struggling to maintain its dignity by cooling off the area. It was failing miserably. There was a ragged pool table in the center of the bar taking up too much space. Omar was summing up the situation on the table, while a few others were sitting here or there, most of them drunk and sweaty. David with a gold ring on each finger motioned for Tonya to come over to him. David laughed. “Watch him miss that shit.”

  Omar leaned over the table as he gave a glance over to David and his opponent, an old Jamaican with silvery dreads. Jude looked like he had played pool right from out of the womb. Omar took a shot and missed. Angrily, Omar pulled the stick back and slammed the base of it on the floor. “Shit!”

  Jude smiled a weary smile and set up for his shot. David laughed again, Tonya now sitting on his lap. “You can't play Omar! You got no damn game.”

  Omar looked down for a moment, picking up his beer and with a swig. “Hey, I got’s.”

  Jude took his shot, then another and then cleaned up the game. He held his hand out. “Omar you play like a white boy and now you owe me three hundred.”

  Omar wiped the sweat off his brow pulling out his roll. It wasn't much. He pulled off of it three hundred-dollar bills and slapped it in his hand. “You are all-right old man.”

  Jude dismissed his remark with a wrinkled smirk and pushed his gray-white dreads back, "Double?"

  Omar looked uneasy. He had racked up a lot of debt lately, especially in pool, but he wanted more. “Yeah.”

  Tonya spoke low to David. “He is a fool.”

  David nodded, “Never said he wasn't.”

  Tonya stood up, David slapping her backside as she went over to Omar. She pulled Omar’s shirt and whispered into his ear. “Omar, you don't have the money.”

  Omar shook his head no, turning to her as Jude racked. “Shut your mouth, Tonya. What do you care?”

  Tonya shrugged. “You want to bury yourself?”

  Omar closed his eyes for a second again wiping the sweat from his face with his short sleeve. “Listen, I'll pay back what I owe David.”

  Jude smiled. “You
break.” He lived long enough to know when to quit, his friend Omar did not.

  Susan’s apartment was poorly decorated with several odds and ends she had found in a few garage sales. Realistically dollar-store affair was the best she could do with the way she managed her money. Donna sat down on Susan’s velvet couch, leaning back. She smiled passing a half-empty body of vodka to Omar. Omar was sitting on a mismatched love seat with Susan spread limply over him. Omar took the bottle and drank right from it. After a swallow, he tried to pass the bottle to Susan. Susan turned to him half-awake, dismissing him. Omar again pushed the bottle to her. “Here!”

  She took a groggy swipe at it. “No!”

  Omar pushed the bottle at her for the second time. “Here woman! What you can’t take it no more?”

  Susan pulled herself up and turned to him, her face plastered with her hair. She pulled it back again. “Omar, gimmee, I put you under fool!” she growled grabbing the bottle and drinking slopping down a shot and passing the bottle back to Donna.

  Omar angry, “Hey, I don't need you or your attitude!”

  Susan sat up pointing a finger at him. “I don't need your ass either.”

  Donna took a swig from the bottle. “Hey, listen people.”

  Omar leaned back half asleep again. “Yeah, yeah, man, you all are sounding like David.”

  Susan fell back down on Omar. “Least he’s got.”

  Omar showed a bit of teeth. “Got what…nothing.”

  “You owe him more than your ass that is for sure,” Susan bit back.

  “I owe him yeah, but not that much.”

  “You owe him and he will break your legs, my old man.”

  Omar leaned over on a pillow. “Whatever woman, whatever...”

  Donna stumbled up, held on to the couch and put on the stereo. The music was loud, reverberating on the floor and into the apartment's walls. “Now cool off.”

  Omar closed his eyes, "Kevin owes and I’ll shake him and a few others yet again."

  Donna sat back down, expecting the heavy beats to keep Omar awake, but instead it seemed to lull Omar to sleep.

  Susan pulled herself up again, looking angrily at Omar. “See, look at him he can't hold shit anyway.”

  Omar slid deeper into the love seat now snoring loudly. Donna nodded in agreement. “Well he is what he is.”

  Susan stood up a bit wobbly herself, then grabbing her purse. “He does not want to do nothing with his life but gang-bang. He is going to get killed and leave me with crap. I am getting tired of his weak show.”

  Donna shrugged. “Well you do what you need to do, Susan.”

  Susan huffed an exhausted breath out. “I am going to the Sammy's”

  Sammy’s was the corner store. Donna looked for her pack of cigarettes. She found a crumpled one stuffed next to her on the couch. She dug into the pack and found one last cigarette, “Wait,” Donna said, finding her purse and pulling out a ten, “get me a pack too.”

  Susan nodded and when out.

  Donna started thinking about Omar and then drifted to Danny. Omar began to wake up again as Donna lit her cigarette. She looked at him for a while, got up and went over to the stereo to change the CD. Omar now more awake watched Donna bend low. Donna turned around to see Omar smile at her. Donna moved quietly over to him. Omar slouched further down in the love seat. “Donna, woman.”

  Donna moved in closer to Omar, Omar pulling her toward his body. She leaned down on him. “Omar you need better, baby. I know your mind.”

  Omar grabbed her waste and the back of her neck. “Donna, I need your help.”

  Susan got out her old red Chevy, closing the door behind her. She looked up at the brown stone before her, a bit of sun glaring into her eyes. She placed her keys in her purse and walked up to the door. A few guys at the corner of another apartment building, next to its stoop were eying her. She gave them an icy glance as they held their hands near their groins. Susan knocked and waited for Donna to come down. After a moment in the late August sun, Donna opened the door. She pushed her hair back. “Hey, Susan, come on in.”

 

  Susan took a drink of her beer. Donna was watching some mid-morning talk show on her television. Whatever show it was, the guests seemed to be arguing, fighting and generally beating on each other. Donna sat down with her beer and drank. “I know he needs money, but I don't have any and it's his own damn fault.”

  Susan leaned forward. “Listen, he needs bad and you know he does. David will dump him in the Hudson if he doesn't pay.”

  Donna nodded. “And?”

  Susan picked at her nails. “I need him right now. He lets me slide on my tab. I ain't got anybody.”

  Donna gave out a dismissive sigh and a bit angry, open handed in exasperation. “Susan, that’s why he is in the Grave! And you can get who you need.”

  “Are you saying he is a fool for lending me a hit or two? He is my man, what have you got?”

  Donna got up. “I got Jake and you got to go!”

  Susan put the beer down and stood up. “Listen, I am sorry. I need him and he'll get you your shit too.”

  Donna looked back at an open pack of cigarettes on the coffee table. “Yeah, I will talk to Jake. Tell him to get his score from Kevin…he owes.”

  Susan put her beer down and grabbed her purse. “Yeah, I know.”

  Donna motioned for Susan to head for the door. “We all got probs, it a screwed up world.”

  “I know Donna, I know.”

  Joseph rushed into the Greenburg hospital emergency room entrance, the doors neatly gliding open and then closing behind him. Joe looked hesitantly around finding the intake specialist. He stepped over to the front desk. The young woman looked up at him, “Admitting?” she said questioning him.

  He wiped the sweat from his forehead, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I want to see my mother.”

  She looked matter of fact at him, as if it was all routine. “Name, sir?”

  “Cruse, Betty Cruse.”

  She typed in the name. “And you name?”

  Joe wiped his head again. “Joseph Cruse.”

  The admitting specialist looked up the record for Betty. “Ah yes, your down as a contact person.” She looked back pointing, “ER bed 112, here is a tag.” She reached over pulled a clip and handed it to him, “Go through the door and ask the triage nurse to see her.”

  Joseph nodded. “Thank you.”

  She frowned.

  Joseph pushed through the ER doors and found room 112. Mama Cruse was there in the bed. Danny was there, the doctor talking to them, a pale blue curtain providing her with some privacy. Joseph met Mama Cruse’s eyes then Danny's. “Danny, what the hell is going on? How the hell did you get here?”

  Danny nodded. “Yup, Joe Joe, I went in the ambulance.”

  Joseph was beside himself. “What going on, Mama?”

  Mama Cruse looked over to Joseph. “Oh, well son…”

  The doctor pulled Joseph aside. “Your Mrs. Cruse other son?”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  The doctor moved him farther away from his mom and his younger brother. “She has lost a lot of fluids and her kidneys are in poor condition. How long has she been like this?”

  Joseph placed his hands in his pockets, took them out again and rubbed the back of his head. “What do you mean? I didn't know any of this was going on. Nobody tells me anything, least of all my mom.”

  The doctor looked back at Betty Cruse and Joe, Joe smiling away now, sitting next his mom, holding her hand. “Well, I would like to keep her for a few days, run some tests.”

  Joe nodded. “Yeah, sure, but it is really up to her? She kind of does what she wants.”

  The doctor smiled pulling out a pen. “Yes, I see. Is she on any psychotropic’s, have a mental illness of any kind?”

  Joseph looked back at them both. “She is on a whole slew of stuff; yeah that is when she takes them.”

  The doctor flipped so
me pages of the chart he held, pen ready. “Can you list them for me? She doesn't know off hand.”

  Joseph turned to the corner for a second looking at one of the stainless steel trays with all the gauze and gloves on it, turning back to the doctor. “Oh, God...”

  The doctor smiled, “Hmmm...Yes...”