Absent Friends

Jimmy, says Markie. He swallows, looks at Jimmy.

Throw me some bullshit, Jimmy says.

What? says Markie. Jimmy's using bad words, so Markie pays attention, but he doesn't get it.

Crap, Jimmy says. Soft, low, inside. 'Bout a dozen. They want to bunt this guy home. Jimmy's eyes move to the Empire kid on third, but he doesn't point, doesn't let the other team know what he's talking about with Markie. He says, Let them think that's all you have. Then when the batter steps up, throw the sizzler. If he connects with a bunt, it'll come right back to you. You and me and Tom, we'll run this guy down.

Markie looks over to third, where Tom seems to know what they're saying, seems ready. Then he looks at the second baseman, then at first, so looking at third won't seem like it was anything special. He looks back at Jimmy, nods. Jimmy jogs back to the plate. When he passes the batter waiting on deck, he flashes him a man-you're-in- trouble-now grin from behind his catcher's mask. Markie throws eight marshmallow warm-ups, he can hear the Empires talking, jeering. Then he nods, he's ready.

The batter steps in. Markie winds up, and he throws the fastball, what he's been working on all season, every day: getting it a little faster, a little more exact. He puts it just where he wants it, the batter shortens up and bunts before he realizes this isn't the pitch he expected, and the ball does just what Jimmy said: goes much too fast, too far, ends up right at Markie's feet. Markie scoops it up, flips it to Jimmy, Jimmy to Tom, and Jimmy and Tom close in on the runner, Markie covering the plate and the second baseman covering third, just in case, but Jimmy and Tom don't need that, they run the guy down like it was a training film.

While this is going on, the first-base runner makes second and the batter lands on first, but Markie doesn't care, doesn't care one bit, because Jimmy's behind the plate calling for the pitch he wants, and Markie knows whatever pitch Jimmy wants he's got it, and it'll work. All he needs is one more out to end the inning. He gets it easily on a soft pop. The game goes on, Markie even singles. The Panthers beat the Empires, and the kids from Manhattan slink home on the ferry.

So at Markie's wedding, Jimmy grins and says, Markie, man, with Sally up there in that white dress, who the hell you think's gonna be looking at you? Markie walks up the aisle without tripping, slips the ring on Sally's beautiful hand just like he knows how, like he's practiced for this for a long, long time.

All the guys are there, at Markie's wedding, hair slicked back, shoes shined, elbows digging into each other's ribs, big grins in the church and bigger ones over beers at the reception. They dance with Sally, and they dance with their own girls and each others'. They lean on the wall and twist the tops off beer bottles, look around at the balloons and the candles, the crumbled pieces of cake. Jack says, Look at Markie, man. Guy who smiles like that, he's in shock, don't know what hit him.

Maybe that's true, maybe not. Markie keeps smiling; a year later he's smiling even bigger, handing out cigars: he has a son.

Markie's happy.

From the New York Tribune, October 29, 2001

FUND REJECTS CONTRIBUTION

QUESTIONS SURROUND HERO FIREFIGHTER'S

DEALINGS WITH CRIME FIGURES

by Harry Randall

The Tribune has learned that, claiming concern for “our responsibility to our other contributors,” Marian Gallagher, director of the McCaffery Memorial Fund, has rejected a $50,000 contribution offered by Edward Spano, a Staten Island developer with reputed underworld ties.

Capt. James McCaffery, 46, commanded Ladder Co. 62 and died on September 11 in the World Trade Center's north tower. The McCaffery Fund was established within days by Thomas Molloy, a Staten Island civic leader and childhood friend of McCaffery's. To date the Fund has topped $500,000. Contributions and pledges are flooding in daily from around the country.

Asked about the Fund's actions, Ms. Gallagher told the Tribune, “Some people are saying we could do a lot of good with this money and should accept it. But until the absurd rumors floating around have been put to rest, we will continue to err on the side of providing our contributors with the comfort level they have a right to expect.”

Thomas Molloy said he and the Fund's board of directors “fully supported” Gallagher's decision to turn down Spano's offer.

Marian Gallagher, who, along with Molloy and Spano, grew up with McCaffery in Pleasant Hills on Staten Island, is executive director of the More Art, New York! Foundation, a Lower Manhattan–based arts-funding organization. In that capacity she is the chosen representative of Lower Manhattan's cultural community to the Downtown Redevelopment Advisory Council, a citizens' watchdog group.

Gallagher and McCaffery were well known as a couple during their days in Pleasant Hills. “That's why I asked her to take this on,” Molloy told the Tribune. “Because she'd been close to Jimmy.” Gallagher refused to discuss the nature of her relationship with McCaffery. But in a reference to recent allegations that McCaffery was involved in dealings of an unspecified nature, financial and otherwise, with Edward Spano, Gallagher stated, “Jimmy McCaffery was completely honorable. If anything wrong was going on, he wasn't part of it.”

The rumors circulating about McCaffery center on events that took place more than two decades ago.

A 1979 shooting in Pleasant Hills resulted in the death of Jonathan “Jack” Molloy, 25, half-brother of Thomas Molloy. Mark Keegan, 23, admitted shooting Molloy but claimed he did so in self-defense. According to Keegan's statement, Molloy, who had a record of arrests on minor charges, threatened him with a gun and fired two shots. Keegan returned fire, killing Molloy with a single shot. No homicide charges were filed, but Keegan pled guilty to possession of an unlicensed handgun. He was sentenced to 16 months in prison, where he died after a fight with another inmate.

According to Keegan's widow, it was McCaffery who urged her to file a wrongful death lawsuit holding New York State responsible. Sally Keegan claims the suit was filed but withdrawn when the State offered a settlement under a policy compensating the families of prisoners injured or killed in custody. Six months after Keegan's death his family began to receive monthly payments of $1,000. In 1990 this amount jumped to $2,000. Payments continued until Keegan's only child, Kevin, now a firefighter, turned 18. They were made through Phillip Constantine, the attorney who had handled Keegan's criminal trial in 1979.

However, the Tribune has learned that New York State has no such family