"I'm going to bed now."
"I'll be in later, sweets." He turned to Tommy. "Hey, Stony tell you what happened last night?"
"Yeah, I heard, yah beast!" Tommy smiled.
Chubby got up. "You want some coffee, Tom?"
"Just a little."
Chubby fussed around in the kitchen and came out with two cups and a pastry box of cannoli. They sat in the dinette and dug in.
"You hear anything about the union?" Chubby picked out a cannoli.
"What about the union?" Tommy turned the box toward him and picked out the biggest one.
"You know, about Stony."
"Any time he wants, he's in." Tommy wiped his mouth with a napkin. "The fuckin' kid's breakin' my chops though. He keeps stallin', yes, no, yes, no."
"Give 'im slack, he's goin' through a rough time."
"Rough time, my ass. That kid's got it made. He ain't workin'.
he ain't goin' a school. He hangs aroun' gettin' laid an'jerkin' his bird. He's gotta start pullin' his own weight or I'm gonna kick him out on the street."
Chubby snorted. "Right, I can see you doin' that. Who you think you talkin' to, Indians?" Chubby picked up another cannoli. "You don't let that kid go to the john with less'en twenny bucks in his pocket."
"Well, that's all gonna stop right away."
"Uh-huh, hey, I gave Stones some pointers last night on how to handle women. The kid's awright, but sometimes I think he walks around wit' his head up his ass. Din't you ever tell 'im the facts a life?" Chubby licked some cream off his fingers.
"Hell, no! Let 'im learn it the way I did ... in the gutter." Tommy laughed. "Nah, really, what am I supposed to tell 'im? How to stick it in?"
"Nah, you know ... just ... he don't know how to handle things. I don't think he got any problem knowin'
how
to stick it in, he just don't know
when
to stick it in. An' I also think he don't know when to pull it out. That Cheri girl got him doin' a hurtin' dance."
"Hey, you know what Pop said to me when I was twelve? Here's the facts a life for you. I ask him how you do it, you know? He says to me, 'Don't worry, when the time comes, you'll know, animals can do it, you can do it.'" Tommy slurped his coffee.
"You're lucky. When
I
ast him, he answered wit' the back of his hand."
"He was a motherfucker, wasn't he?"
"Yeah, Pop was somethin' else again."
"He really smacked you, hah?"
"You should remember. Tom, that's when I was gonna leave home."
"Oh yeah! That's when I came at you wit'..."
"Yeah, remember? You was ten. I was packin' my knapsack an' I told you I was runnin' away. You left the room an' come back wit' a friggin' butcher knife. You says to me, 'If you ever do anything to break Mom's heart, I'll kill you.' "
"Holy shit! I remember that! Yeah! I was a cunt hair away from runnin' you through."
"I saw it in your face. You were one fuckin' sick puppy that day."
"You know, it's funny. I didn't get scared standin' there with that knife, until I saw
you
was scared. You started unpackin' right away, remember?"
"Do I remember! I didn't leave the fuckin' bedroom for a week, you sick fuck!"
"Pop was a fuckin' bastard with us though. Hey, you remember that whistle a his? Any time I was playin' in the street an' I heard that whistle, my heart would jump into my mouth. No matter what I was doin' I would stop everything and run upstairs, an' half the time he was callin' me to whip my ass for somethin' or other. Din't make no difference cause I knew if he had to whistle again I would just get beat worse. Till the day I die I won't ever forget that whistle." Tommy put his thumb and middle finger on his tongue and let loose with three shrill blasts—the first two short, followed by a long, higher-pitched third.
Chubby winced at the memory. "You know, Tom, about six years ago I heard a guy on a job give Pop's whistle. I almost shit on myself."
"We were like trained dogs. One time I was fingerin' Sally Rudnick in the hallway. Pop whistles, I almost ripped out her box."
"Yeah, but he had his moments though. I mean, he wasn't the greatest, but he did
"I'll be in later, sweets." He turned to Tommy. "Hey, Stony tell you what happened last night?"
"Yeah, I heard, yah beast!" Tommy smiled.
Chubby got up. "You want some coffee, Tom?"
"Just a little."
Chubby fussed around in the kitchen and came out with two cups and a pastry box of cannoli. They sat in the dinette and dug in.
"You hear anything about the union?" Chubby picked out a cannoli.
"What about the union?" Tommy turned the box toward him and picked out the biggest one.
"You know, about Stony."
"Any time he wants, he's in." Tommy wiped his mouth with a napkin. "The fuckin' kid's breakin' my chops though. He keeps stallin', yes, no, yes, no."
"Give 'im slack, he's goin' through a rough time."
"Rough time, my ass. That kid's got it made. He ain't workin'.
he ain't goin' a school. He hangs aroun' gettin' laid an'jerkin' his bird. He's gotta start pullin' his own weight or I'm gonna kick him out on the street."
Chubby snorted. "Right, I can see you doin' that. Who you think you talkin' to, Indians?" Chubby picked up another cannoli. "You don't let that kid go to the john with less'en twenny bucks in his pocket."
"Well, that's all gonna stop right away."
"Uh-huh, hey, I gave Stones some pointers last night on how to handle women. The kid's awright, but sometimes I think he walks around wit' his head up his ass. Din't you ever tell 'im the facts a life?" Chubby licked some cream off his fingers.
"Hell, no! Let 'im learn it the way I did ... in the gutter." Tommy laughed. "Nah, really, what am I supposed to tell 'im? How to stick it in?"
"Nah, you know ... just ... he don't know how to handle things. I don't think he got any problem knowin'
how
to stick it in, he just don't know
when
to stick it in. An' I also think he don't know when to pull it out. That Cheri girl got him doin' a hurtin' dance."
"Hey, you know what Pop said to me when I was twelve? Here's the facts a life for you. I ask him how you do it, you know? He says to me, 'Don't worry, when the time comes, you'll know, animals can do it, you can do it.'" Tommy slurped his coffee.
"You're lucky. When
I
ast him, he answered wit' the back of his hand."
"He was a motherfucker, wasn't he?"
"Yeah, Pop was somethin' else again."
"He really smacked you, hah?"
"You should remember. Tom, that's when I was gonna leave home."
"Oh yeah! That's when I came at you wit'..."
"Yeah, remember? You was ten. I was packin' my knapsack an' I told you I was runnin' away. You left the room an' come back wit' a friggin' butcher knife. You says to me, 'If you ever do anything to break Mom's heart, I'll kill you.' "
"Holy shit! I remember that! Yeah! I was a cunt hair away from runnin' you through."
"I saw it in your face. You were one fuckin' sick puppy that day."
"You know, it's funny. I didn't get scared standin' there with that knife, until I saw
you
was scared. You started unpackin' right away, remember?"
"Do I remember! I didn't leave the fuckin' bedroom for a week, you sick fuck!"
"Pop was a fuckin' bastard with us though. Hey, you remember that whistle a his? Any time I was playin' in the street an' I heard that whistle, my heart would jump into my mouth. No matter what I was doin' I would stop everything and run upstairs, an' half the time he was callin' me to whip my ass for somethin' or other. Din't make no difference cause I knew if he had to whistle again I would just get beat worse. Till the day I die I won't ever forget that whistle." Tommy put his thumb and middle finger on his tongue and let loose with three shrill blasts—the first two short, followed by a long, higher-pitched third.
Chubby winced at the memory. "You know, Tom, about six years ago I heard a guy on a job give Pop's whistle. I almost shit on myself."
"We were like trained dogs. One time I was fingerin' Sally Rudnick in the hallway. Pop whistles, I almost ripped out her box."
"Yeah, but he had his moments though. I mean, he wasn't the greatest, but he did
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