know?'
Apparently he knew.
At Clarendon Street he stopped under the arching trees, near a bench. I stopped too. A gray-haired woman in a black and white checked pant suit passed us walking a honey-colored spaniel on a red leash.
When she had passed the big guy said, 'You don't know who you're fucking with, pal. Now you either get lost or I knock you on your ass.'
'Who am I fucking with?' I said.
The big guy led with his right, which is effective only with amateurs. I pulled my head out of the way and smiled. He followed up with a meandering left hook which I avoided also.
'You loop your punches,' I said.
He lunged at me and I stepped sideways and played him past me with my hands.
'You're going to hurt yourself,' I said.
He stood staring at me, breathing hard. Then he lowered his head and charged at me. I slipped the charge again and drove my right fist into his left kidney as he went by. He grunted and fell face forward. I stepped away from him.
'See,' I said.
'Short punches. The one I hit you with didn't travel a foot, but I turned into it when I threw it and got a lot behind it.'
He got to his hands and knees, and then to his feet. He stood crookedly, as if his left kidney were hurting, which it surely was, and stared at me.
'We going to walk some more?' I said.
He unzipped his jacket with his right hand and reached inside.
By the time he got his hand on his gun, mine was out and pointing at him.
'Silly to walk around with your gun zipped up inside,' I said.
'I know you didn't expect you'd need it, but once I got annoying, you should have at least un zippered just in case.'
He didn't know what to do. He stood staring at my gun, holding his gun half out from under his coat.
'Did the folks who told you to follow me also tell you it would be okay to shoot me in the middle of Comm Ave. at ten-thirty in the morning?'
He let the gun slide back into its place and took his hand away from his coat.
'No.'
'Good,' I said.
'Why don't you zip the coat up good, and I'll just sort of keep my piece handy here in my pocket.'
'Why don't you kiss my ass,' he said. And turned and started walking toward The Public Gardens again. I walked with him. My gun was the short-barreled Smith & Wesson.38 and I could easily hold it inside the pocket of my green windbreaker. We reached Arlington Street in silence and crossed and went into The Public Gardens which was still bright with flowers in the early fall. Near the big statue of George Washington on horseback he stopped again.
'You going to follow me home?' he said.
'Sure,' I said.
'You're making me look bad, you know? You're gonna get me in trouble, following me like this.' – 'Un huh.'
Ahead of us the swan boats were still in the water, full of people, trailed by a convoy of hungry ducks to whom the tourists gave peanuts.
'Whyn't you gimme a fucking break, pal?'
'Naw.'
He stood some more. He looked at Washington above him. He looked back at the Swan Boat Lagoon, and the boats full of people being slowly pedaled about by college kids with quads of steel. He looked back at me.
'Okay,' he said.
'I'm fucked. What do you want?'
'I want to know why you are following me.'
'Guy asked me to.'
'Who?'
'You gotta promise me, you don't say I told you, you know. It don't make me look real good.'
'Don't feel bad,' I said.
'You just weren't ready for what you got. You're used to collecting overdue from some guy fixes timing chains for a living. Doesn't matter you loop your punches, you still hit him. You don't need to have your gun where you can get at it quick.'
'You gotta promise,' he said.
