Crossing the Bridge (Adult Language) 2474

Just wanted to say before you read that this is a slightly different short story, where there is mostly dialogue, and names before the dialogue so there isn't so many quotations marks everywhere. Thanks for reading.

On Bloomfield Avenue a black Audi pulled up outside Jack’s Café. A lean man, called Marv Arena got out of the Audi; he had sunken cheeks and greased black hair, and sported a cream polo and black jeans. Marv nodded to the driver inside, who was wearing a light blue tracksuit. The lean man, called Marv Arena, took time to analyse the streets atmosphere by waiting to see if anyone was pulled up across the street watching him. Nothing there but a mother looking at a road map, he bowed his chin down to his chest like he was about to be be-headed and he walked inside the café.

The café smelt of fried chips and burnt eggs. A couple of older men sat on the red leather stalls at the front, positioning their lips over a steaming coffee, or maybe it was tea, Marve couldn’t exactly see. Marv looked to the rows of seats by the line of windows and found what he was looking for. His son sat in the corner with his chin lying on his right fist as he gazed at the street outside.

Marv: Hey. There he is. Sorry about the traffic, got caught up on Washington Bridge. ****ing closed a lane or something.

His son, Tommy, didn’t move his chin away from the original position, he just leant his eyes over to his father as he slides into the seat across from him.

Marv: How you doing Tom? It’s been a bit of a while ain’t it this time.

Tommy: Surprised you came.

Marv: More surprised you arranged. Is ma alright?

Tommy: Have you got mum a birthday present?

Marv: Huh? Yeah, course, yeah. It’s er, it’s in the boot, I’ll get it for ya later… What days of the week is it again, her birthday?

Tommy: Last Tuesday.

Marv: Ha? ****. I’ve had, you know, I’ve had so much on. ****. You know the guys at the rig, right. They can’t even ****ing fix a drill string. Top it off; we haven’t even got a replacement, its chaos over there. Alright, so don’t let her blame me for being a bit late… you do that, huh?

Tommy looks away back out to the curb which he finds more interesting that his dad’s excuses.

Tommy: She wasn’t expecting anything anyway.

Marv: I will give it to you later ok. I’ve got it. Just, come on, let’s talk about something else… Hey, why aren’t you at college today?

Tommy: That’s why I wanted to meet.

Marv: Ah is it? You’re not quitting construction are you? That’s not gunna happen you know.

Tommy flicks his head back to face his dad.

Marv: ****, you’ve already done it haven’t you?

Tommy: No one saw you come here did they?

Marv: Don’t change the question.

Tommy: I guess it be too late if someone did…

Marv: Get to what the ****’s happened Tom.

Tommy puts both his elbows on the table and holds his head with both hands.

Tommy: Listen I - I, I just don’t know alright. I don’t know and I want to know. But I - I don’t know if I should…

Marv: If it’s a speech therapist you want, I could call someone.

Tommy: If I wanted a joke I would visit your brother.

Marv: Woah. That’s family. Some respect. Take the plug at your throat. Speak properly.

Tommy: Ok. I don’t know how to put this though. The reason I’m here, and not in college, well, It’s er… it’s you dad. I think it’s your fault, in a way.

Marv: Nice. What the **** Tommy?

Tommy: People are looking, take it easy.

Marv looks behind expecting to see a man with shades and a stiff look or maybe just a member’s only jacket. Nothing. Looks back.

Tommy: Do you er, do you whack, people.

Marv: ****ing hell, what?

Tommy: Whack people.

Marv: Yeah. Lean your head over here.

Tommy: No, you know what I mean.

Marv: Ah yeah, I send someone down the ****ing river every day.

Tommy: Be serious. ****.

Marv: Sorry, my face isn’t serious right now? Huh? What the **** are you talking about, and who do you think I am? Some made guy from Brooklyn? What the
****.

Tommy: I’ll explain… Ok? So last week when I was in construction, I sort of got kicked out of the morning class I was in. Basically there was a little bit a talcum powder on my nose, nothing you could actually see, you know, I mean it was from when I was cleaning my face in the morning. So you know, Mr Nichols thinks it’s something else. But it’s not.

Marv: ****ing idiot, go on.

Tommy: I can tell you it wasn’t that, ok.

Marv: Whatever. Go on, get on with it.

Tommy: I’ve been thrown out of class. For that - you know: misunderstanding. So I’m not just gunna to stand there in the hallway. Who does that? You know, so I walk outside to the gates, to get some air, when some car pulls up, well it was already pulled up, like outside the gate and this guy, I mean, he was big, you know, and he’s leaning on the car staring, like, right at me.

Marv: Yeah. Probably thinking ‘There he is. Floppy Tommy.’

Tommy: Yeah, maybe I’ll write that one down… Anyway, he started to talk to me. And I don’t know, next thing I know, he’s telling me that you been in an accident. And then he says to come with him.

Marv: What? When exactly was this.

Tommy: Three weeks ago.

Marv: I was on the rig then. It’s not possible.

Tommy moves his body closer to the edge of the seats, with his left leg hanging out into the isle, like he was readying himself for a quick getaway.

Tommy: You sent them dad. You. And don’t think I’m stupid, because I know what it was. It was that rumour right? Huh? Huh?

Marv: Rumour?

Tommy: Yeah, the, er, queer one.

Marv: You started that?

Tommy: You didn’t know?

Marv: No. I didn’t, but I ****ing know now don I.

Tommy: So you didn’t send the car?

Marv: Shut up. Why’d you start it? Is that funny nowadays, huh? You gotta tell me where you learn this whip smart humour Tom?

Tommy: It was just, nothing, it was nothing. It was Phil. He always twists stuff to sound different. It was a joke, alright.

Marv: Yeah, a joke, ha-ha. ****ing idiot. You know, Phil’s dad knows a lot of people this side.

Tommy: That’s exactly it. Why, for someone who works for an oil company, do they get so worked up about someone being a queer? It’s not against anything these days.


Marv: You know, those other dad’s. What I do. Who I deal with. My enemies. Those kind of rumours are good material for them Tom, for Phil’s type of dad.

Tommy: Exactly. But it ain’t the oil business is it? No, it’s not. Is it?

Marv: What?

Tommy: It’s wind energy. Yep. Funny huh? Funny I know isn’t it?

Marv: No. The only wind energy I’ve ever dealt with is coming out of your mouth.

Tommy: Mum told me.

Marv: Come on Tom, you’re smart enough for this. It’s a ****ing lie… She doesn’t want the best for you.

Tommy: Some ‘respect’ please, ‘family.’

Marv: Doesn’t act likes she’s part of it.

Tommy: What makes you think you do?

Marv: You’re both acting like outsiders.

Tommy: Yeah? Says the one who lives in Manhattan. Away from everybody else in the family who grew up here.

Marv: At least I can feel when I go and get a paper now.

Tommy: But come on, just tell me the truth. You’re in the wind energy business ain’t ya. The oil rig trips you say you do. I mean, why do they even give you a tan?

Marv: It’s the wind burn.

Tommy: In July?

Marv: ****. What did I say a minute ago Tom? It’s jealousy in its purest form. She doesn’t want you to be mixing with the dirty little, grubby little gremlins I deal with. Yeah their ****ing dirty, yeah they’ll con ya for all your worth if you’re not smart enough. But I am Tom. I get them on my side. Working for me, because I’m smart. If I sneeze, they get a tissue, maybe some nose spray. You get it? You know what, it’s a career you really woulda been suited to. You’re tough like me you know, and she doesn’t even want that for you. You know it.

Tommy: You can’t dive around it all the time. You mix with criminals. That’s it.

Marv: They might be criminals in their private lives, I don’t know, I don’t care, but I’m telling you they are as straight as an arrow when they work for me.

Tommy: You’re telling the truth?

Marv: Yes Tom. Why would I lie to you. I know that I haven’t been around too much. I know that, but you got to know, those days when I’m on the rig, I’m always thinking of you.

Tommy: What about ma, you think of her?

Marv: Tom.

Tommy: She struggled without you paying her you know.

Marv: Has she thought of getting a thing called a job?

A pause. Tom sat thinking.

Marv: Come and live with me. Just for a while. Not because of ma, but se we can get you a job. I don’t know, maybe I’ll get you one on the rig, start at the bottom. You work hard and I’ll do what I can.

Tommy: Not now.

Marv: Yes. Ma can live on her own for a while; you know, you’ll see there isn’t any mafia entourage I’m with, huh? I don’t know though… you might see me whack someone hehe. A lot of idiots as galley hands these days.

Tommy: It’s not that.

Marv: Then what is it?

Tommy: It’s me and mum. Both of us, we… I. I’m here, ok, this took longer than it shoulda, but I wanted to meet to know for myself. Say what you like. I’ve seen the holiday bookings, I’ve seen the pictures.

Marv: Pictures?

Tommy: Before you say they were edited. There not. Mum said they were sent from some dude in over the river, your side. Said they were going to use it against you.

Marv: For what?

Tommy: It don’t matter, there’s nothing you could be put away for. Apart from the fact you’re using a kettle, perhaps in a slightly different way.

Marv: Show me.

Tommy: Can’t. There at home.

Marv: This is ****ing bull****. A kettle? I’ve never touched anybody.

Tommy: Stop lying dad.

Marv: I’m not.

Tommy: You are. You always say that liars don’t built ledges for themselves like honest men do. When they don’t build a ledge they fall.

Marv: Well I haven’t so….

Tommy: I don’t want your “Life” or your job. If I came with you, you’d ease me into that “world” and I’m not going there. I want to be normal, have a safe life.

Marv: This is normal, what ain’t normal about what I do for **** sakes.

Tommy: Ok, maybe it ain’t like The Sopranos, or The ****ing Godfather, but its crime dad. I don’t care want you earn for it. I want to be normal.

Marv: That’s aiming low.

Tommy: Is it? Is aiming to be somewhere, in a stable piece of mind, a place where you know you’re healthy and honest. Is that aiming low?

Marv: I should have taken you with me from the start. You would be more like me, working hard, providing. To be normal, it’s better to be where I am, because
god forbit, if I fell, had troubles, at least theres plenty of ledges for me to fall on, I’d still be earning twice as much as anybody else.

Tommy: It’s a joke, how can you say that with a straight ****ing face? You had the chance to take me with you, but you just pushed me and mum further away like a toy. All you like is drink, ‘friends’, and perhaps a little more drink.

Marv: Is that it? Is that what your mother thinks of me. A liar and a criminal, of course. Now a photo that’s so ****ing blurry it could be Ghandi from where we are.

Tommy: How do you know its blurry? I though you hadn’t seen it

Marv’s face flushes.

Tommy: It’s all business isn’t it?

Marv looks down at the floor, refusing to blink like he’s just witnessed a murder no one else has seen.

Tommy: Mmm? You know, you’re always saying that the normal or ‘good’ life is where you are across the river. Well, what is normal? Huh? I know, it’s where
you’ve been brought up, where I’m from, here, we’ve got our own culture. Our own street has a way of doing things for each other you know.

Marv: ‘Culture.’ In New ****ing Jersey.

Tommy: Yeah. We don’t have to talk about money or getting one over on the next person we talk to, we just know that what ever is right for that person is right for them, being forced to do something isn’t gunna help.

Marv: She’s brainwashed you the ****ing who-are.

Tommy: I’ve just realised, that’s all. Mum’s new boyfriend showed me that you can be ‘normal’ and have a steady life without all the enemies you always say you have to have.

Marv: Boyfriend?

Tommy: Yeah, met him through a neighbour.

Now, Marv looks out the window as though his wife is standing right outside kissing her new boyfriend.

Tommy: You gunna say anything?

Marv: When are you moving?

Tommy: Pretty soon.

Marv: Where?

Tommy: Don’t know. Mum’s boyfriends the one with the plan.

Marv sits in silence.

Tommy sighs and looks at his fingers that are displayed on the table.

Marv gets up, and doesn’t even look at his son. However, Tommy tries to reach over to grab the bottom of Marv’s T – shirt, but Marv pulls away.

Tommy: Dad, I don’t mean I don’t love you. I just thought we should straighten everything out. Dad? Dad?

He was gone.

Outside, Marv looks at the time on his silver watch, 12.54. He doesn’t even take a look back at the diner as he heads for his car, which, now, does not contain his bodyguard/driver. The rest of the street is full of cars rushing by, men in black, or grey suits talking on phones, or just peeling open a sandwhich wrapper. He goes into his pocket for his keys when footsteps from his right side gather pace - then halt behind him. A shadow forms over his figure at the door.

Voice: Marv Arena?