First and Canal
Jerk put Maiden & Maid behind him and kept walking another block before turning south.
The Pour-O-Matic replaced some bespoke, gas-fired monstrosity from Big Neil’s time—the one that caught fire the first time Jerk tried to fix it, fifteen years ago.
He caught himself rubbing the spot where Kid had touched his arm. He put the hand in his pocket.
If there’d ever been any documentation, it was gone by the time he was 10. He’d been making pots of coffee for The News since he was 8, being Tiny’s legs and hands as mass and years accrued.
“Honey.” Not even Norma called him that.
Jerk remembered the terror in Tiny’s eyes, dust-caked fire extinguisher spraying The News’ salvation on the coffee bar while he hollered for Norma to cut the gas that fed it off.
“Honey.” He’d never felt like a Honey until Kid said it.
Three thousand dollars in damages. It could have been worse. It could have been the entire News. It could have been The Broadside.
“Honey.” Why did it feel good?
A sudden screech stopped a foot from him. He looked up at the driver, dazed. He was crossing Saint Martin Street? The driver gestured rudely at him. He mouthed “Sorry.”
“Honey.” The word had rewired something.
What was Kid doing to him? Why?
He’d read the Bunn manual a hundred times before it ever failed. Learned to solder. Electricity was more predictable than gas.
Both were more predictable than Kid.
Nearly to the canal that separated downtown from South Ilium, he saw Mayor Hayden. The mayor was standing on the bridge over the canal, hands on the wrought iron fence that guarded the sides. His combover flapped in the breeze and the front of his shirt was untucked. He stared west toward the river, lips moving like Norma praying the Rosary.
Jerk couldn’t hear till he was almost next to him. “Still water. Dark water. She waits.” He had three days worth of beard, silver and white like the snowcaps of the Himalayas. “She sees me.”
“Mayor Hayden, are you OK?” Jerk asked him, shaking his shoulder. “You look a little lost down here.”
The mayor turned to face him slowly. His bloodshot eyes brightened with recognition. “You’re Tiny’s boy. Tiny’s… Page.” A dark cloud moved over his entire face.
“You’re the Page.”
Jerk’s stomach curdled. He smelled the ghost of incense and mahogany. “I’m not the Page here. This isn’t a Society function, Mayor.” The Mayor had already turned back to the west, lips moving silently.
Jerk shook the Mayor’s shoulder again. “Should I call someone for you? You seem out of it.”
The Mayor turned. “Tiny’s boy. So nice to see you again.” His bloodshot eyes were lucid. He offered his hand to Jerk, who shook it while he studied the Mayor’s face.
“We just spoke a moment ago, Mayor.” He said as he released the Mayor’s hand. “I asked you if you were OK.”
The darkness covered the Mayor’s face again before he spoke. “Just have a lot on my mind. I sacrifice a lot to run this city.” He looked to the west again.
“Ok, but you–”
“I’m fine and need to be on my way. I see her tonight.” The Mayor said, cutting him off. He turned north, toward downtown, pushing past Jerk. “Tonight’s my night. McNally saw to that. Tell your father… tell him she remembers.”
Jerk watched him go. Kelly’s was just to the south of the canal.
“Honey.” He would deal with it later.
He needed to borrow the phone at Kelly’s and tell Tiny what the Mayor had said.