Chapter 2

The week passed by uneventfully, with Billy and I doing the work we both needed to get done in order to keep our respective businesses operating smoothly. I generally tried to open at least one or more new accounts per week during this growth phase of my business. I was having Lenny and my other two drivers making most of the deliveries while I drove around the area, talking to existing customers, and trying to get referrals for some new business. I was delivering about two hundred and fifty cords of wood per week, and wanted to get it up to about four hundred a week if I possibly could. The more wood I could profitably dispose of, the more, and larger, contracts Billy would be able to bid on. The area had many small outfits that bid on the small logging jobs. All of the outfits had the same problem, how to dispose of the cleared wood at a profit. Too many of the smaller outfits got stuck holding on to the wood, unable to turn it back into the money they needed to bid on their next job. By paying Billy three bucks a cord more than the going rate, I ensured myself a steady supply of premium firewoods. The extra money he made from selling to me allowed him to undercut the bids of his competitors, thus giving him steady work for his logging crews. In a business where steady work was often a hit or miss proposition, having the prospect of offering steady daily employment assured Billy of being able to attract and hold on to the best crew workers.

During that week, while we were busy taking care of our businesses, my father was busy gathering information and planning exactly how and where we would meet up with the bowlers again. He had discovered that the five men all worked together as part of a road repair crew for New London County. His inquiries turned up the information that none of them had any serious brushes with the law, and that three were married, one was divorced and the other was single. The married men all had young children. Three of the men had served in the military, one of whom had been a Navy Sea bee. They stuck close together, both at work and after, and were known as a tough bunch among their co-workers and the people that they socialized with. The El Bolero incidents were only two of many that they'd been involved in. There was nothing in any of the information that my father had uncovered that changed his mind about what he wanted to have take place. When he figured that his ribs had healed enough, and that his plan was workable and acceptable to him, he called over to Billy's and asked that we meet him over at the El Bolero at six the next night. It was almost two weeks since the second incident in the El Bolero, Billy and I were both surprised that he'd waited for so long. Billy and I arrived separately a little before six, my father had been there since before three. He had used the time while he waited to talk to the owner about the part the tavern would play in his plan. The owner had balked at my father's plan, not wanting to invite more trouble to his place of business. After my father had carefully made mention of the very real possibility that one word from him out at the Sub base and over at Electric Boat could have the tavern put on the off limits list for the sailors and the boat workers, the owner reluctantly gave his okay to the plan.

The two unmarried guys had a second story apartment they shared over on Smith Street, near Fort Griswold Park. There was a used appliance store on the ground floor. My father's plan was that Billy and I were to visit the two over at their apartment and ruffle their feathers a little. After we had gotten their attention, we were to tell them that if they didn't like what we'd done they could meet us over at the El Bolero the following evening, since we'd be there watching the fights. If they showed up on Friday, my father would make sure that the bar had enough of his friends that we wouldn't be outnumbered. Billy liked the plan a lot because he figured he'd get two more cracks at the guy who'd yelled at Uncle Bill. It seemed simple enough to me also, I wasn't worried about how things would turn out at the apartment, and I was looking forward to getting some satisfaction from two of the guys who'd roughed up my father.

"Billy, you and Yutch take it easy on those two. You remember that all you're doing is issuing an invitation. If you put either one out of commission for Friday, the rest might not like the odds and refuse to come over to see us." My father never liked to delegate things that involved fighting. His motto was "if you want a thing done right, you do it yourself". We gave him our assurances that we knew what he wanted, and we'd follow his instructions. That intention lasted right up until the moment Billy got hammered in the back with a shovel by one of the bowlers.

We got over to Smith Street about six thirty that evening and parked half a block away from their apartment. It was damn cold out, and Billy and I were wearing heavy jackets and gloves. We walked over to the side of the building and started climbing the stairs to get up to their door. We hadn't made it even halfway up before the door opened and the guy who'd yelled at Billy's father stuck his head out to see who it was. If I'd been in front, I doubt if he'd have recognized me, but Billy was in the lead and the guy sure recognized him. He ducked back inside and slammed his door shut and we heard excited talking inside the apartment. I had heard the dead bolt lock being thrown right after the door slammed, so I was sure that Billy had heard it as well. Billy reached the top of the stairs and kicked the door in with a single blow that sent the door inward with great force and left the top hinge pulled completely off of the frame. It was very loud and Billy rushed right in through the opening he'd just made. I was about three seconds slow in reacting and heard a loud "Whoomp" sound as Billy was slammed in the back with a shovel as he came through the door. The force of the blow broke the handle. If Billy didn't have that jacket on, I'm sure his back would have been broken. I came through the door and punched the guy holding the broken shovel handle. It wasn't as solid a blow as I might have hoped for, but it was enough to back him up and allow Billy to get back up on his feet.

The first thing that registered on my mind was that there were three of them, not the two we'd been expecting. The second thing that registered was that one of the three was someone I'd never seen before. The third thing that registered was that the new guy was a lot bigger than anyone else in the room, and he looked mad to me. Of course, Billy went after the guy who'd hit him with the shovel, and that left me to see what I could work out with the other two. I decided that diplomacy was called for.

"You two stay right where you are. This is unfinished business between those two, so just let them finish it up and then we'll leave." Now, that seemed reasonable to me, but those other two didn't seem to agree. Without any hesitation, the big stranger came over and threw a hay maker that would have taken my head off if he had connected. He didn't connect, but his buddy did, after I'd ducked away from the big fella. I got popped in the top of my head and it probably hurt the other guys hand as much as it hurt my head. I tried to get a shot back at him, but I was also trying to keep as much distance between me and the big guy too. As a result, my punch wasn't effective at all. I turned quickly though and kicked the big guy on the side of his knee. It didn't exactly buckle, and probably made him more angry than he had been. I turned back to the other man and got in a very good shot. He went down and I wasn't worried about him any more. I turned quickly back to the angry giant, just in time to be wrapped up in his arms and thrown to the floor. I landed on my back and the wind was knocked completely out of me and I couldn't get a breath. I'm sure I would have probably wound up in the hospital at the very least, if Billy hadn't tapped the guy out with that shovel handle just before he threw his first punch at my face. That first blow only stunned him, but the next one did the trick, and Billy and I rolled his unconscious body off of me.

"Your pop is going to be pissed Jackie. I'm pretty sure that this isn't what he had in mind for us to do."

"No shit. Let's get out of here before they wake up."

"Shouldn't we give them your father's message first?"

"Billy, let's get out of here right now. We'll send them a written invitation later. Just remember not to invite that big fucker when we do." And so, having failed miserably in our assigned task, Billy and I drove over to my folks house. My father didn't even let us take our jackets off before he led us back out into the cold to talk. We both tried to explain all the little things that had gone wrong, but my father wasn't buying any of it.

"I send you two over to take care of a simple matter that even Ray could have handled for me. Are you sure that they were all breathing when you left them? Billy you don't whack a guy in the head with a shovel handle like that. You could have killed him doing that."

"Uncle John, this fucker was half a head taller than Jackie, and had to weigh a minimum of at least three hundred pounds. And, he wasn't fat. If I hadn't of whacked him, Jackie might have been dead when he got through with the punch he was getting ready to throw. You didn't see this guy, he was huge." I nodded in full agreement and support of what Billy was saying. Not for a single moment did I question the actions Billy had taken against that guy. In fact, I found myself wishing he'd instead used the metal bladed part of the handle, not just the wood part which had necessitated two blows instead of just one. I could see that Billy's argument wasn't going to prevail against my father's belief that we'd managed to screw up a simple assignment. When Billy told him that I didn't want to stick around long enough to give those guys the message about being at the El Bolero the following night, my father almost lost it.

"I guess I should just do everything myself from now on. You two are about as worthless as tits on a fucking bull! Well, you two make sure you come over to the El Bolero tomorrow night. I'll get them over there somehow." He was full of superiority and scorn as he looked over at Billy and I. I had taken just about enough of that particular bullshit from him.

"Sure pop, we'll be there. But I'm telling you right now, if that big fella shows up, he's all yours. Am I right Billy?"

"Yeah, Jackie you're right. You can have him Uncle John, he's just you're type. Jackie and I, we'll hold your coat while you teach him a thing or two." Billy and I laughed. My father laughed too, but it wasn't at all funny the way he laughed. It was like he was laughing at Billy and I, just like he had when we were kids. I didn't like that laugh and neither did Billy. We left right after that. I had a delivery to make to a new account in the morning, and Billy needed to be up at four thirty to get stuff done so he would be ready when my trucks came in to be loaded up. When I got in, Ellen looked at me, funny at first, and then came over to me for another, closer look. The fall that I'd taken when that big guy had tackled me had left a raised welt on the side of my face. I'd been turned away from her when I walked through the door, but she'd somehow managed to get a glimpse at it anyway.

"Have you been in a fight Jackie?" I didn't like to lie to Ellen. It wasn't that I had anything in particular against lying, just that Ellen had a near flawless bullshit detector, and lying to her just got me into more trouble than simply telling her the truth.

"Not really. I was trying to do a favor for my dad and there was a big mix up. This guy thought I was coming after him or something and he tackled me and I hit my head on the corner of a chair or something. Billy convinced him that it was all a mistake and we just left."

"You were with Billy when this happened? Tell me exactly what really happened or else I'll call Theresa and she'll get it out of Billy. You know she will." I thought over my options and then I decided to just tell her. I explained to her about how my father had really felt about the second attack, and then told her what he had planned as revenge. When I got done, she was looking at me with an angry expression on her face. "So you were just going to do what your father told you and weren't going to tell me a thing about it? Jackie, you aren't like him. Violence isn't a good thing, and it doesn't solve anything. You and Billy could get hurt, or even killed, and for no good reason that I can see."