Joe Pitt 3 - Half the Blood of Brooklyn (8 page)

But not coming alone.

--Joe.

I look up. My foot has just hit the east side of University Place, the edge of Society
turf, and Hurley's waiting for me.

--Hurl.

He moves his toothpick to the corner of his mouth, juts it eastward.

--Terry's bin callin' ya.

--I wasn't home.

--Dat's what he said.

--Man's fucking psychic or something.

--Must be, told me ta look fer ya comin' offa Enclave turf. Me, niver woulda figured anyone
ta be over der.

--Yeah. Well. Tell Terry I'll catch him later, got some things to do.

I move around him and he drops his hand on my shoulder and almost knocks it back out of
its socket.

--Said, Terry wants ta see ya.

I look at the hand weighing my shoulder down.

--With all due respect, Hurley, you want to get your hand the fuck off me?

He takes the toothpick from his mouth with his free hand.

--Let's nae fook aboat, Joe. Yer head o' security, sure, but Terry's dah boss, an' when he
calls, ya come to 'im. So, an wit all due respect fer ya an' yer job an' all, come da fook
wit me er I'm gonna have ta beat ya till ya do.

I lick my lips.

--Sounds important.

He puts the toothpick back in his mouth.

--Fook do I know, I'm just da fookin' help.

The pie at the Odessa Diner is shit. But I ordered it anyway.

Terry ordered the veggie pirogies.

--Really, Joe, it's just the kind of thing we have to start getting used to. Whether we
like it or not, our world is getting bigger. Trying to stay on our turf won't change that.
And, think about this, if we try to just stay in our space, just kind of cling to what we
have from Houston to Fourteenth between the river and Fifth Ave. while the world outside
that patch is getting bigger, well, we'll just be getting smaller the whole time. Think
about that, and see if it doesn't blow your mind.

I pick up my fork, poke the pie, but it doesn't look any better than it did when the
waiter put it in front of me.

I put the fork down.

--However big the world's gonna get between now and tomorrow night, it's gonna have to do
it without me being involved. I got other things I'm working on, and I am sure as fuck not
going to Brooklyn tonight.

Terry cuts a pirogi in half and dips it in applesauce.

--I hear you, man, I hear you. Brooklyn. Wow. I mean, how many years have we been talking
about that place like it's a different world. The undiscovered country. Like only Lewis
and Clark would know how to handle a land like that, right? Going to Brooklyn? I must be
crazy asking you to do that at a moment's notice. Something like that, man, we should be
planning an expedition with, like, Sherpas and stuff.

He pops the piece of pirogi in his mouth and chews and swallows.

--Problem is, problem is, our debate with the Docks Boss and his people last night, that
seems to have caused some ripples.

He pushes the other half of the pirogi through the applesauce and watches me.

I point at his plate.

--Those things are better with sour cream.

He nods.

--I'm trying to stay away from dairy.

I poke my pie again. It's clearly store bought. The crust flat and shiny, the overhead
fluorescents reflecting off it. The filling gelatinous, dotted with three or four clots of
apple puree.

He eats the last piece of pirogi and wipes his mouth with a paper napkin.

--So, ripples. Like, the Docks weren't the first of the Brooklyn Clans to get in touch with
us.

--I gathered.

--Right. And now, this other group, well, they seem to have, and I'm not saying I know how
this happened, but they seem to have gotten ideas of how we handled our differences with
the Docks. And this has made them, I don't know, leery, I guess. And they want, well, some
assurance. Some direct contact with the Society. And they want it soon. Like, and this is
where the urgency comes from, they want it tonight. They're willing to send a
representative, but they want us to handle transportation.

I dig my fork into the pie and put it in my mouth. It's as bad as I thought it would be. I
wash it down with thin black coffee.

--So go give them some direct contact. Last time I checked, diplomatic missions weren't
something I specialized in.

He pushes his plate to the side and wraps his fingers around his cup of chamomile tea.

--There's nothing diplomatic involved. You go, you get their representative, you bring
their representative back here, and after the meeting you provide return transit. And hey,
you know, I wish I
could
go. First contact, man. I mean, direct face-to-face contact, I'm not saying it's Nixon in
China or anything, but it's a pretty major deal.

I look past Terry, out the big front windows of the diner, and watch the Friday-night
barhoppers parading up and down Avenue A.

I glance at the clock above the front door. Well past midnight. Way past visiting hours at
the hospital. If I call the night nurse she'll shine me on again, tell me Evie is fine no
matter how she is.

The taste of the crap pie and the lousy coffee is still in my mouth.

I look at Terry, blow some air, give with a big helpless shrug.

--Sure, Terry, I get it, and I don't mean to make light or anything, but I have security
issues here on our turf. That's why you gave me the job, right, to take care of things
right here at home? Way I remember it, the deal was I do things the way I think they
should be done. Right now, I got to tell you, this Van Helsing is the real deal. What I've
been poking into tonight, the tension out there in the community is high. Word is
spreading and people are freaked out. Those are our folks out there, living in fear, I
can't do something to make them feel safe, well, I should just hand the job to someone
else. That's not even taking into account how riled Predo was when I went up to see him,
guy's got a serious bug up his ass over this. I don't take care of it quickly, it could
screw up all the quiet we've been enjoying lately. Just, hey man, just priorities.

The waiter places the check between us, fair warning that he wants his fucking table back.
Terry flips the check, looks at the total, goes in his pocket.

--Yeah, the Van Helsing. That's, sure, that's a concern. Thing is, thing is, and you know
how I feel about pointing fingers, and I could be wrong, but the thing is, Joe, this
problem in Brooklyn, it didn't really exist until you went up to see Predo.

I remember that pause, that half second when Predo mentioned the Docks to me. That one
moment when I cracked open and he read me cover to cover.

Sharp bastard.

He places some bills and change on the check, a precise ten percent tip included.

--And, you know, these things happen. He can ferret information with the best, so I'm not
saying you could help it. Predo, he's just doing what comes naturally and putting whatever
he got from you to use. If I were to guess, I'd imagine he maybe placed a call to these
folks he knows we're in contact with and suggested that we might be, I don't know,
untrustworthy in negotiations. Which, I'll grant in this case may have been true, but
generally we're a much safer bet than the Coalition. But try telling that to new faces
when the story going around is that we, I don't know, used a
containment strategy
on the Docks. Which was really best for everyone. Their attitude and values may get by in
Brooklyn, but things are far more sophisticated here. A lead pipe mentality like theirs
would have caused trouble for all the Clans.

--Yeah, well, we'll never know one way or another, what with how they were
contained
and all.

He recounts the money on the check.

--You can be flippant about it if you like, Joe. --
Flippant?

--But I can't. I have to take these situations seriously. That forest we were talking about
before? That metaphor can be extended pretty far. The forest, the ecosystem, it needs to
be kept in balance. Too many new species enter the ecosystem at once, they throw it out of
balance. Species that have been there for eons, they can find themselves at risk.

He takes fifty cents off the check and puts it back in his pocket.

I look at the clock again. There's an orderly at the hospital, if I pass him a pint of gin
he'll get me on Evie's ward. I try to remember when his shift ends.

--Yeah, ecosystem, unbalanced, got it. All the more reason I need to stay here and deal
with the Van Helsing.

I start to get up.

Terry puts a hand on my wrist.

--Joe, sorry, I'm being unclear. Let me focus this a little for you.

He pushes his glasses up his nose.

--Fuck the Van Helsing.

He looks at my chair. I sit in it.

He nods.

--Predo doesn't give a damn about the Van Helsing. People out there don't know about the
Van Helsing. You haven't been looking for the Van Helsing. What you have been doing, what
you did do, was you went up to Predo and let him, you know, work you. However it played,
you tipped him and he knows how we handled the Docks, and he's pissed. He knows they would
have thrown in with the Coalition and he's pissed we, well, intervened or whatever. Now
he's getting kind of childish and trying to do the same thing with us, and the situation
needs to be dealt with.

I watch the waiter come and take a look at the check and the money. I watch the sour look
on his face get more sour as he eyes the money. I watch him clear every last plate and
glass and piece of silver from our table, leaving the check.

He makes to take the teacup from Terry's hand and Terry looks up at him.

--I'm not finished. When I'm finished you can have the cup and the table. Until then, stay
the fuck away from us. And if you want a better tip, refill the water glasses every now
and then.

The waiter takes a step back, touches the ring in his right eyebrow, turns and walks away.

Terry turns his eyes to me.

--Sorry about that, I'm a little, man, a little stressed, I guess.

I wait while he works out the stress.

--See, and that stress, a lot of it has to do with all this Brooklyn stuff. And I'd really
like to bring some stability to the situation so I can, you know, decompress. I don't want
to spend my time taking out my issues on innocent bystanders like that kid. So for the
sake of everyone around me, before I, I don't know, start taking people's heads off or
whatever, I need to have this thing dealt with right away.

I remember what it was like, back in the day, when Terry would take someone's head off. I
look at him, old man hippie, and know it's still in there. The head-taker. One of the
best.

I lean in.

--Bullshit.

His forehead creases.

--Um. Excuse me?

--Bullshit, Terry. You didn't want me to tip our hand to Predo, you wouldn't have let me go
up there. I've been played by you two before, I know what it feels like. Whatever you
really want, it has fuckall to do with me running to Brooklyn. The Van Helsing? I know
that doesn't mean shit. I already got that figured. I don't know who's play it was, yours
or Predo's, but I know we've seen the last of him. You want me to do a little dance? Fine.
Tell me the tune. Show me the steps. Draw them out on the floor so I know exactly where to
put my feet. Because I am goddamned if I'm gonna let you two jerk me all over town again
getting my head bounced off hard stuff.

I lean back in my chair and light a smoke.

Terry scratches his cheek.

--Wow. Wow. That was, that was very honestly put. That was a real, I don't want to say
breakthrough, because I've always felt like we get each other, but that was such an honest
and feeling piece of communication. I'm, I don't know, touched. Thanks, Joe. Thanks for
that.

I go to tip some ash in the tray, find the waiter took it with everything else.

--Whatever, man. As long as we're clear.

Terry waves a hand.

--Oh yeah, we're clear, man.

He strokes his chin.

--Thing is, thing is, you have no idea what you're talking about.

He raises a finger.

--Playing you? Would it were so, my friend, but no, that's not the case. I let you go up to
talk to Predo because I figured you'd been around enough by now to be ready for his game
playing. But you're not ready to deal with Predo on those terms. Enough said. No shame in
that. Lesson learned by us both. No, I just really, really need to take care of business.

He leans in.

--It occur to you, Joe, all these Brooklyn Clans coming to us and to the Coalition, it
occur to you to ask why? I mean, what's up, right? And I'll skip waiting for an answer you
don't have, because rhetoriality is the last thing we need right now. What's up is that
they're scared, man. Scared bad. Someone over there, someone's pushing, grabbing turf,
squeezing out the little Clans. Years now, guys like the Docks, they wanted nothing to do
with, you know, us Manhattanites. Wasn't just a matter of no one from the Island wanting
to cross the river, they had no interest in coming this way. Now they got no choice. They
need allies and they got no choice. And if they're getting squeezed over the river, if
sociopolitical forces are sending these refugees our way, we need to make arrangements
now. Or we'll be sitting in the middle of a humanitarian disaster. By which I mean at
least a few hundred new infecteds on the Island, all of them looking for blood. That is
the kind of impact our little ecosystem cannot absorb. They have to work with the Clans
here. There has to be some organization. Everyone knows it, but there's still gonna be
some jockeying. We're all gonna get a little bigger. And it's important no one gets too
big. In terms of the ecosphere, that'd totally screw shit up. This Clan we're in touch
with, the Freaks?

--
Freaks.
That's promising.

--Let's not start making judgments based on something as flimsy as semantics. Regardless of
how they've chosen to represent themselves to the world in language, they apparently carry
a membership of several dozen. That's more than enough to cause waves or swing a slight
advantage in numbers. They cannot be, you know, disregarded.