TK Short Stories

By Thomas Kaye

Writers hang around with shady characters. These stories reflect the irony and variety of situations that exist in this bizarre world. It seems that weekly, the bar is raised on the outrage society accepts. Anything goes. Shock disappears faster than an ice cube in the heat. Irony is woven in the fabric of every day conversation as much as wise ass remarks. Being irked by people, and politics comes as regularly as the sun rising and setting. Irony runs rampant.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Kaye
• Release date: Feb 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463900611

Thomas Kaye

Graphics and video can stimulate but content is the magnet; words drive the message. I’m a fiction/non-fiction writer from New York with published Ebooks and corporate sales and business articles. I write in a wide variety of styles; everything from casual humor to business professional. I cover all areas including sports, outdoor, current events and humor for all industries; sports clubs, trade associations and start- ups. I’m an active outdoorsman interested in hiking, biking, and golf.

Book preview

REGRETTABLE FAVOR

Bobby Russo rushed into The Ram’s Den, spotted Joey Torecelli and weaved his way through the thick crowd.

Hey, Joey, you busy?

Joey unleashed his arms from around Gail’s waist.

What do you think?

Sorry, just need a minute.

Joey turned to the girl.

Will you excuse me, honey?

She smiled, curled his forearm in her grasp, and winked.

Bobby led Joey into the adjacent room where the pool table held an unfinished game. Joey picked up a cue and lined up a shot.

What the hell’s so important Babaloo? I haven’t seen you in six months. And we got some unfinished business. Are you here to discuss that or what?

No, Joey, I need a car boosted.

Joey took a shot, sank the eight ball and looked back at Bobby.

Yeah, so what’s with urgency?

Joey, you gotta to do it tonight.

Joey laid the cue down.

Tonight! I don’t think so buddy. I was planning on having a good time with the lady you took me away from.

Listen Joey, I promised someone it could be done tonight.

Yeah, well that’s your problem. I’m off tonight.

C’mon, I need this favor. The car is only two blocks away. Boost it, bring it over to Marty and then you can rejoin your little lady. The two bills I give you should cover the rest of the night.

Where’s the car?

Over on Cranberry. It’s a 2013 Buick, black, no locked steering wheel and the ignition is under the dash. Shouldn’t be a problem. Here’s the plate number.

He handed Joey a matchbook with a number scribbled on it. The plate looked familiar, but he shoved it in his pocket and walked back to the girl. He whispered into her ear, she showed a little pout, and found her way back to her girlfriends. Joey picked up his jacket, and headed out into the crisp New York autumn night.

His pace was quick, and after about six blocks, he spotted the car. He walked to the driver’s side and his eyes darted to just below the steering column. This asshole doesn’t even have the alarm on. His tried the door, and it opened. Joey smiled, shook his head and looked around the Brooklyn neighborhood. It was dead.

Joey got into the car, and went to work under the dash. Twenty minutes later he was at the house of Marty Glassman. Marty fenced stolen goods, but the auto shop that was adjacent to his house had a sign that read Body and Fender Specialist.

As Joey parked in front of the house, a light went on inside. The front door opened, and a figure approached Joey as he stepped out of the car. Before he could speak, Joey had a gun at his head.

Joey, you’re an inconsiderate bastard. Can’t a guy eat his dinner without interruption?

Joey turned to Marty.

If you don’t get that fucking gun out of my head, you’ll get your interruption.

They broke out laughing.

Sorry about your dinner, Marty. Bobby was breaking into a rash over delivering this car. He promised some guy that he, or more like me, would do it tonight.

Marty stuck the gun in his jeans and lit a cigarette. As the ash grew longer, it looked as if he would fall over from the sudden weight shift. The man was a skeleton, weighing in at one hundred thirty pounds, just under six feet, with the face of a bulldog.

Marty took a drag, and turned his head to blow the smoke away from his guest.

So, how you doing, Joey?

Not bad. I was down at the bar when Bobby called me out on this job. Hey, how ‘bout coming down for a drink?

Marty looked back at the house.

No, I can’t. The old lady has been on my case.

Poor, kid, can’t come out with the boys. So, Marty, what’s this job about anyway?

Don’t know. Bobby called me this afternoon and said the car would be brought over tonight.

They talked for awhile, and Marty gave him a ride back to the bar. Joey walked through the door, his little beauty noticed him, turned away from the guy she had been with, and greeted Joey with a kiss.

The next morning, Joey was rudely awakened by a banging on his door. Still half asleep and hung over, he slowly walked out of his room and over to the door.

The little blond treat from the night before waited at the bedroom door and then walked out into the living room.

Who the hell is making the noise?

Your doorbell is busted. Hey, Joey boy, I need to talk to you – now!

It was the booming voice of Tony Capello, a picciotto in one of the families.

Joey pushed the sleepy girl out of view as he opened the front door and greeted Tony.

What’s the problem, Tony?

Tony invited himself in and saw the girl.

Get rid of the pop tart and we’ll talk.

Joey looked at the girl and stroked her hair.

OK, baby. You take off and I’ll see you later.

She did as she was told, and walked back to the bedroom to get her clothes.

Tony watched her strut to the bedroom.

Listen, I know you jacked a car last night.

What, you’re here to arrest me?

The girl made her second appearance, this time heading out the front door.

Tony continued. No, I’m here to tell you to get that car back. It belongs to a friend of mine. Where is it?

Joey didn’t think twice when Tony Capello made a request.

No problem, Tony. I dropped it off at Marty’s place last night. We can head there right now. Hey, I did a favor for a friend.

They got into Joey’s car and drove the short distance to Marty’s house. As they pulled alongside the curb adjacent to the house, they were greeted by a pair of Doberman Pinchers that came running from the other side of the house and stood barking at the gate leading to the front door.

Marty saw them from the window and came outside and addressed the dogs.

Okay guys, take off, and he slapped the rear of one of them. The dogs slowly trudged back to the other side of the front lawn. Marty opened the front gate. The three men shook hands, and Marty lit up a cigarette.

Joey started. "Marty, we have a little problem.

Oh yeah, what’s that?

The car I brought over last night belongs to a friend of Tony’s.

Marty just stared, and then said, What the hell are you talking about. What car?

Joey wasn’t laughing. Marty, don’t fuck with me. Tony needs it back - now.

Marty turned away from Joey. He took another drag from his cigarette and looked directly at Tony.

Tony, I don’t have any car.

Joey took a step forward and was in Marty’s face.

Enough with the games, Marty, I’m in no mood. Let’s get the car so Tony can return it and I can go back to bed.

Tony spoke up. Listen, Marty I’ve known you and your family your whole life. I’m practically family. This was a mistake. I know that and the owner of the car knows that. There’s no problem here.

Tony, I don’t know about any car.

Joey grabbed Marty and slammed him into the fence. His loyal dogs started barking and came running. Marty struggled to his feet as Tony ran over and stepped between the two.

Joey pointed at Marty. I don’t know what’s going on but you’re a dead man unless you come clean.

Marty turned, and went back into the house.

Joey kicked the fence at the barking dogs, and brushed off his clothes.

Tony, I don’t know what to tell you.

You can start by telling me everything that happened after you ripped off the car.

Marty watched from the living room window as Joey explained the story to Tony.

When he was done, Joey asked Tony, Why is this car so valuable?

"There’s something in there that can’t be replaced. Listen, get that fucking car. Look, I don’t care how, who’s got it or why. But I want it by tomorrow night. This is no bullshit Joey. I don’t trust Marty, but you’re the guy responsible. There’ll be trouble if I don’t see it by tomorrow – midnight.’

Joey went home, grabbed a shower, a sandwich and cigarettes and headed back to Bobby’s house. He drove up in front, slammed on the brakes and headed up the walkway. The house seemed unusually quiet and he realized no barking dogs had met him. He peered through the living room window. No movement.

He banged on the door. Bobby, Tony’s not with me. We need to talk this out.

No answer.

He drove to a seven eleven, bought a coffee and got back in the truck. He needed to track down Bobby Russo. It wasn’t going to be easy. Bobby was the kind of guy that never stayed in one place for too long. An hour later, he stopped into a diner to ask one of Bobby’s past girlfriends.

Debbie, I need to find Bobby Russo. Any chance you’ve seen him today or yesterday?

No. But if he’s in trouble again ...

Joey was out the door before she finished her sentence. For the next six hours, Joey turned over every stone Bobby might be under. Around midnight, he went down to the Ram’s Den. The girl he brought home the night before walked up to him and put her arm around his waist.

Joey ignored her and kept scanning the bar.

She said, Hey, what’s the matter with you?

You remember that guy I was talking to last night?

What guy?

The guy that came up to me, and said he needed to talk to me. Have you seen him?

No, I but I’d like to see you.

OK, thanks, and he headed to the door leaving the girl choking on her last words.

Joey started to worry. He needed to find Bobby, knowing that when Tony said the word trouble, it meant the threat on his life was very real. He also knew that something was wrong with Marty, denying he knew anything about the car. And now it seemed that Bobby had disappeared. Joey had until tomorrow night -twenty-four precious hours.

Saturday morning turned into night. Joey did a quick drive by at Bobby’s house. The house sat in darkness. He saw no reason to go back and threaten Marty. Joey stood on the sidewalk staring in through the window of Archie’s Billiards. The clock above a stack of racked balls showed five past midnight. A sick feeling hit his stomach and he could feel a cold sweat forming on his forehead. At thirty-eight years old, he was about to leave Brooklyn for the first time.

Joey had parked the car a few blocks away. The trunk contained a small duffle bag packed with meaningless items. He was carrying a cell phone, some cash but no weapon. It didn’t feel right not having a piece, but that would be taken care of later. His first stop was the house of a longtime friend that lived in Westchester. His parents had grown accustomed to his life and when he told them that this time the trouble had forced him to disappear the tears from his mother were brief as she hugged him. His father didn’t hug him.

Look at what you did to your mother and yourself. You could have had a life filled with good times and smart women but you chucked it away for easy cash.

Joey looked at him.

Hey, Dad I didn’t want this. Remember I’m a good kid, and he left his parent’s house.

Joey had figured his best route was to head north until he ran out of room. The final destination would be Canada. As Joey drove over the Brooklyn Bridge, he noticed a black sedan following him. He recognized the car. Tony was attempting to make good on his threat.

He got off the bridge, made a couple of turns but the car was on top of him. As he speeded up, a gun shot hit his back windshield with the bullet embedding in the passenger seat. Joey made a hard left and found himself on a one-way street, going the wrong way. Suddenly, a truck appeared from a side street. Joey was twenty yards away from a head on collision. He cut the wheel and steered straight into a line of garbage cans as the truck nicked his back bumper. The impact was enough to send the car into a spin until it landed safely next to a dumpster. Joey leaned back and sat still for a minute. He then sat up, massaged the back of his neck and then left in a hurry. He may have woken the neighbors, but lost the tail.

At two thirty in the morning, it was dark, cold, and lonely as Joey pulled into the parking lot of a bar he knew too well. He needed a drink bad and walked through the scarred door into a smoked filled, dirty rat hole with no music playing and the thick smell of whiskey. He walked up to the bar and looked around. A pool table, dimly lit, was occupied with two scarecrow looking bikers playing a game and grabbing at two drunken girls. He looked over to a row of tables, when her eyes nailed him. She rose if her ass was being held down. Joey watched as she loped over, and he wondered, what the hell is a girl like her doing in this shit hole? She was tall and slender with blonde hair that grabbed at her shoulders. Her eyes were large brown almonds that almost made you miss her lovely, full breasts. She was tough, smart, good looking but didn’t know how to use her arsenal. This shack was all she knew.

Her long legs brought her to his side before he could shake off the cold.

You in trouble, baby? she asked

Yes Linda, I am.

What kind of trouble?

Nothing I want you involved in. I need to talk to Keith. Now - tonight.

Linda looked at him with caring eyes. She wanted so bad to help him the way he bailed her out so long ago.

Joey had known Linda and Keith since high school. Joey and their group of friends were big. The close knit group rode motorcycles together, dated each other and drank together. But it was different with Linda and Keith. They never strayed from each other – except once.

Love was a strong bond between the two, but heroin was stronger. Linda was an only child whose parents were constantly fighting. Her father started physically abusing the mother. The every day eruptions by her parents broke her heart and crushed her will. Linda began to escape into a bottle and then a needle. Keith was there to comfort her, but she needed more than a friend, and soon, Keith starting shooting smack. One week, Keith was out of town and Linda found herself drinking with some guy in a local bar. He supplied her that night, and the end result was her getting the fix she needed - and becoming pregnant. She came to Joey in tears and with the story of how she loved Keith but was stupid enough to get lonely. Joey didn’t think twice about lending her money, and promised to keep the news away from Keith. The money got used for a clinic in Queens was run by the father of one of Joey’s friends. The abortion was kept quiet and Keith never found out.

Linda took a pen out her jeans, grabbed a napkin off the table, and starting writing.

Here’s Keith’s cell number and the phone here, and she pointed toward the bar.

Joey walked over to the bar, made the call and rejoined Linda who had bought them another round.

He smiled at Linda.

No answer. I left a message.

The two sat in silence for twenty minutes until they heard the bartender.

Linda, Keith on the phone for you.

Joey got up and took the call.

"Keith, it’s me Joey. I