OK, man, settle down, settle down. Take it easy. Got yourself a dose of some bad shit, but were gonna take care of you. Got some 911 on the way, gonna get you to an emergency room and get that shit out your system. Just take it easy.
Moved in slowly, arms spread wide, talking soft. Might as well been trying to soothe a rabid dog. The guy stopped spinning long enough to jump at Gears and swing his arm like a club. Guy was freaky fast. Gears got lucky when he fell on his ass out of the way. Guys arm hit the backside of a bench made out of two-by-fours and a couple of them cracked. Then he went back to spinning. By this time folks are starting to clear out, and Im starting to pay attention. Gears gets back on his feet, muttering something about fucking PCP, grabs himself one of the cracked and twisted house cues from the rack and goes after the guy. But Ive taken a good whiff by this point and I know the guy aint on PCP. Gears would be lucky if thats all it was. I mean, I dont know what hes on, but I know he doesnt need it; hes dangerous as hell to start with.
Gears waits til the guy has spun his back to him, and brings the cue down on top of his head. It makes a nice noise, but before Gears can get too proud of himself or maybe think about bringing the cue back up for another swing, the guy has turned around, snatched the cue away, kicked Gearss legs out from under him and gotten busy finding out how hard it is to break a pool cue by pounding it on someones face. Thats when I figured I should do something. Not that Gears is so big a friend. I barely know him except to call him by name when I come in the place, but The Spaz is out of control, causing the kind of scene thats bad for business. If I dont deal with him, the cops will. That will get very ugly very fast. Nothing causes a scene like when cops start putting bullets in a guy and the guy refuses to go down. Sure, Gears and the law and the press may just chalk it up to a PCP freakout, but there are other people who will hear about it. And some of those people will want to check it out. And I dont want those people around. Not down here. Not in my neighborhood. So I jump on the guys back. Figure Ill get him to the floor, put a sleeper hold on him and drag him out of here. Make up some story for the crowd about how I know him and Ill take care of it. Get him out before the cops come; get him someplace private and get rid of him before he can make another scene like this one. Thats the thing to do. Except he shrugs me right off his back, picks me up off the floor and throws me at the window. And when I bounce off the glass instead of going through it the way he wanted me to, he grabs me by the hair and tries to shove my face through the glass. Lucky for me, strong and fast as he is right now, hes a lousy fighter.
Once hes on the sidewalk I handle it pretty much like I wanted to inside. Knees in the middle of his back, pin him to the scummy pavement, arm around his windpipe and cut off the O2 until he goes asleep. He does a fair amount of thrashing around, and I have to hold on good and tight to keep from getting bucked clear, but once Im locked on to him Im not going anywhere. When hes nice and sleepy I toss him over my shoulder and point at one of the bartenders whos come out to watch how the story ends.
Get me a cab, will ya?
Ambulance is on its way.
Let em deal with Gears. This guy, I know him. Im gonna take him back to his halfway house. See if I can keep him out of the shit.
What about the cops? What about the window?
Hey, come on. I got the guy out of the place. Give me a fucking break.
Yeah, sure.
She flags a cab.
The cabbies none too happy about me piling in with blood-drippy guy, but he sees Im in no mood for debate and just gives me a dirty rag to put over The Spazs face. Before we pull away, Evie runs up and passes my pack of smokes and my Zippo through the window.
Want me to come?
Nah, I got
it covered.
Meet you back at your place?
Yeah. Maybe a half hour at the most. You gonna be OK?
Dont start.
Right. Sorry bout this.
S OK. Nobody can say you dont know how to show a girl a good time, Joe.
The Spaz tries to come to in the cab. I pinch his esophagus and he goes back under before he can cause me any more trouble. I have the cabbie take me down to the Baruch housing project just below Houston. Its a couple blocks outside what Id usually call safe turf, but no one really has a claim on it, so it seems like a good place for an impromptu dump. I manhandle The Spaz up the steps to the pedestrian bridge that spans the FDR to the East River Park. Its nearly two in the morning on a Tuesday. Cars whiz by below, but the lights on the park playing fields were shut off hours ago. My eyes penetrate that darkness just fine. Too cold for any homeless people to be camping out. I do see what looks like a couple junkies sitting on a bench at the far end of the park, but theyre facing the river. I pause at the top of the concrete stairs that lead down to the park.