before we did anything and I promised her I would go. Hell, I needed a drink or two before I headed out to do something like this any way. I wasn't looking forward to hearing the bullshit from the Foursome about my mental state, my beating up of a Notre Dame Math student or anything else. Just the same, going to AJ's was just something I did, almost like a bodily function. I had been through some shit in my life, but this last month was something else and at a whole new level. Life gets pretty weird when you're uncertain about what's real and what's illusion, and for me, I wasn't sure about much. I followed the impressions of a man I knew was certifiable. Shit- according to Rudy-I was certifiable. Newstrom, Martin, and those boys had told me they were untraceable and unprovable, and everything they do and did went unchecked.
My answer to all this? Raid a perfectly legal puppy farm that-oh, by the way-is also the local center for canned and dried goods for US Soldiers overseas. I've spent my life following my gut and it's gotten me into trouble. I've lived following that gut, but now people let me know, in no uncertain terms, my gut was nuts.
'We ready, Duff?' Karl said.
'Karl I guess it's just me and you.'
'And Al.' Al's tail started thumping right on cue.
'Karl, before we head out there-is this really a good idea? I mean besides the danger and all, will this really make things better?'
'It just might, Duff. It just might.' I told him we had to make a quick stop at AJ's because I promised Trina. He thought getting a drink and maybe asking the boys to come along might be a good idea. I told him I doubted the boys were likely to hitch a ride on our bandwagon, considering they thought we're both crazier than shithouse rats. It was almost dark, certainly close enough to insure it would be dark by the time we got out to the puppy farm. On our way over to AJ's, things started to run through my head.
'Karl, how the hell are we supposed to get through the front gate?'
'We can climb it.'
'How do we get 40 or 50 hounds out climbing a fence?'
'Er…uh.'
'Geez…'
'What if they got guns and shoot at us?'
'We'll be sneaky.'
'Great.'
People were right. We were both crazy.
42
We pulled into AJ's, and the three of us headed in. AJ would give me shit about Al, but I've got used to that. The second I stepped in the place I knew something was wrong. The place was packed.
Trina was waiting for me near the front.
'What the hell is going on?' I said. Trina forced back tears.
'I don't want you getting hurt. You may not care but other people do.' She started to sob and put her face in her hands. I wasn't quite sure what she was talking about. I looked around the room and realized familiar faces filled the place. I walked to my usual spot at the bar dumbfounded.
Three rough-looking black guys with red bandanas sat on the first three stools of the bar. From behind them stepped a young black woman.
'Oh my God, Shony,' The kid I kind of rescued a few years back came forward.
'Mr. Duffy, God bless you,' she said and gave me a kiss and a gentle hug. 'Miss Trina called and said something about you needing some help.'
The three hard-looking black guys stepped around her.
'Who are you guys?'
The guy in the middle, with a Chicago Bulls hat and a toothpick, raised his eyes without raising his head and looked at me.
'Shony called us. I'm her step-brother and these two are my…uh…associates. I do anything the girl say and she say some white guy named Duffy need help. Say it might involve some muscle. Shony say you the one…the only one… came looking for her when she got kidnapped. Said you saved her life.' He paused a second and looked me up and down. 'That all I need to know. We here to help.'
Next to the black guys sat Billy Cramer, my old karate student. He'd put on about 40 pounds of muscle. Next to him some other guy with cauliflower ears and a crew cut leaned against the bar.
'What's up, Duff?' Billy got off his stool and hugged me.
'What the hell are you doin' here?'
'Trina said you needed a hand.'
I didn't know what to say.
'Geez, you got big.' I couldn't think of anything else to say.
'Duff, I'm doing mixed martial arts stuff and you gotta have some upper body stuff. I ain't the skinny, pizza faced kid you stood up for a few years ago.' He smiled. He had turned into a confident young man.
'This is Timo, we train together. Timo just likes to fight.' I shook hands with Timo, who barely acknowledged me.
'Mr. Duffy! The Frogman is here and at your service.' Froggy took a night off from his park rendezvous. 'Ms. Trina say Mr. Duffy need help. The Frogman doesn't forget.' The bewilderment shifted over. I had a lump in my throat and welled up.
Next to the Frogman Doctor Pacquaio, the Philipino doctor I knew stood. A few years back, I helped a guy get social services benefits by lying on some forms, and it turned out he was Philipino.
'Hello Duffy. Long time no see you,' Dr. Pac gave me a big toothy smile.
'What the hell are you doing here, Doctor?'
'You helped a friend of mine, a poor man with no home, get a place to live. From my country, and I know for a fact he's still doing well.' He looked me in the eye. 'That's because of you.'
Standing next to the doctor was Vinci, a boxer from the Crawford Y. Vinci, way past a-not-so-great prime, but he and I had been sparring partners since our teen years. Next to him Jamal, Angel, and Shaquan leaned against the wall
'Yo, Duff, this Trina says you're in trouble and need some back up,' Shaquan said.
'Trina's a bit of a worrier,' I said.
'She said somethin' about raiding a puppy mill. I ain't even sure what a puppy mill is, but it don't sound like this Trina is exaggeratin',' Vinci said.
'Yeah, well.'
'We're in, too,' Jerry Number One said. Jerry Number Two and TC both nodded along.
'I thought you guys thought I lost it.'
'Oh, we're convinced you lost it,' Jerry Number Two said. I couldn't help but smile.
'Rocco will be along,' TC said.
Next to them stood Mary Jo, a fellow Elvis fan who lived out in the boonies. Someone once stole her Elvis scarf-one she got from the King. I found the scum who ripped off her trailer on a one of my bad mood days. I gave the guy a beating and got her scarf and some other stuff back.
'I'm not good at kicking any ass, Duffy, but I barely got to thank you for what you did for me. I want to help you do whatever you want to do,' she said, and a tear ran down her face. She had a baseball bat with her.
A short man came out of the bathroom tugging at a zipper on a pair of polyester sans-a-belts. I started to lose it at that point.
'You! Meshuganah, you know that,' Hymie said. He had founded the clinic and kept Gloria from firing me a bunch of times.
'I don't know what mess you're in. You crazy schmeckle.' He pursed his lips and shook his head in frustration. He dug into his pocket and got his roll of cash.
'Here's a grand.'
