Breaking Brooklyn (7 page)

Jim had quite a load in that old plastic paint
bucket he found in the dumpster behind the drugstore. It was enough
food to feed him for a week. He looked at me with a huge smile on
his face while we watched our captive flop around in an effort to
escape the crowded bucket of water.

The satisfied look on Jim’s face was what you
would imagine seeing from someone who just climbed Mount Everest.
Breathing heavily, he looked out over the water. He was the most
content man I ever saw.

Jim then told me to take the bucket of fish
home. He said I could have the tackle box as well. It didn’t make
any sense; he used that tackle box every day.

“
Jack, you’re a good friend,” he
said. “One of the best I ever had. I am glad I met you.”

“
Me too," I told him.

I felt like I had ants in my pants because I
wanted to show the fish to my friends so bad. I asked Jim again if
he was sure he didn’t want the Old Man for himself.

“
Nah, you take him”, he said,
“take ‘em all.” Then Jim said, “Stay golden, Ponyboy,” like he was
saying goodbye for a long time.

I told him thanks, that I’d see him in the
morning. I didn’t think much about what Jim said at the time, but I
would later regret not staying longer with him that day.

Not thinking about the consequences, I put the
giant catfish in the sink when I got home. I ran through the
neighborhood, yelling to my friends, who all came running in to
catch a glimpse of the legendary catfish. They looked at the
monster in the sink in disbelief. They couldn’t believe their
eyes!

I did just what Jim had instructed. I told
everyone I caught the Old Man singlehandedly. My friends had no
choice but to believe me. The indisputable proof was right there in
the sink.

One of my buddy’s grabbed his mother’s
Polaroid camera and took a picture of me holding the legendary
catfish. Everyone made a big deal out of it, which made me feel
really special.

This had been one great day.

The next morning was not so great. I woke to
my Grandpa Bob yelling.

“
What the hell is that smell?” he
screamed.

I ran down the stairs into the kitchen that
reeked of dead fish. In fact, the stench was so bad I could smell
it upstairs.

When I told my story, Grandpa Bob Bob settled
down. He told me that in all his days, he had never seen a catfish
that big. I could tell by the way he looked at me with his crooked
smile that said despite being annoyed by the nasty fish smell, he
was actually very impressed. He spent the morning skinning my
prize. Wrapping it in tinfoil to put in the freezer. I wanted to
have it mounted and hung on my wall, but I knew better than to push
my luck with Grandpa Bob.

As usual, my mother, who had stumbled home
late, was hungover and sleeping upstairs. She didn’t smell a thing.
I was so anxious to tell Jim all about how much fuss everyone made
over the catfish that I lit out of the house like I was on fire. I
raced to the canal.

My adrenaline started pumping when I heard the
sound of a train coming. I pulled out a penny from my pocket and
placed it on the rail. Then I jumped into the ditch just below the
tracks as the train passed.

Woooh! Wooooh!
The train whistle
blew, the ground vibrating like a 6.0 earthquake.

When the ground stopped shaking I made sure
the train was gone, climbed out of the ditch, then went to find my
penny. It took me a while, but I located the smashed penny with
Abraham Lincoln’s head smeared like an alien. It was perfect! It
would make a great addition to my collection of other smashed
coins. Collecting these coins was something all the kids in the
village did. Every Saturday we would all meet to show them off and
make trades. I am proud to say I had one of the finest collections
in town.

Running to the canal, I was surprised to see
an ambulance, a fire truck, and several police cars parked in the
area. I slowed down when I saw a big crowd of people gathered by
the bridge.

As I was walking toward the scene to find out
what was going on, someone grabbed me by the arm. I spun around to
see Mr. Swindle from the drugstore. There was a look of concern on
his face that he quickly masked with a smile.

“
Hey, Jack! I want to show you
something.”

Naturally, I asked what was going on down at
the canal.

“
Oh that. There was a car crash or
something. Don’t worry! They have to send all these people out here
as an extra precaution,” Mr. Swindle explained. “Come with me, I’ve
got a new candy I want you to try!”

I looked back at the canal, but candy was
candy. I followed him into the drugstore to get his treat. Mr.
Swindle was a very thin man of average height who wore
circle-rimmed spectacles that defined his narrow face, which made
him look very sophisticated. Behind his glasses were a set of blue
eyes, the kind that were comforting to look at.

I met him one day when I was looking for odd
jobs to support my growing addiction to candy. Mr. Swindle was so
impressed he gave me a part-time job. Our friendship blossomed from
there.

Pointing at the new candy he said, “You can
have as many as you want, however, you have to eat them
here.”

I supposed it was some kind of test to find
out which version of the candy would be the best seller. There was
a huge array of sugary treats surrounding the counter which were
enough to get my mind off of the ruckus at the canal. I saw Mr.
Swindle keeping one eye on my candy testing, and the other on the
commotion outside. Something was going on that he didn’t want me to
know about.

When the last police car finally cleared out
Mr. Swindle said, “Hey, you know what? I’ve got some cleaning to
do. Why don’t you grab yourself a handful of candy and go
play?”

“
Okay, Mr. Swindle! Thanks!” I
replied stuffing my pockets with candy.

I ran out of the store looking for Jim. I
didn’t find him that day, or the next. More than a week had gone by
since we landed the world’s biggest catfish, and I was really
concerned. I visited the canal every day looking for Jim, but he
was nowhere to be found. I started asking around town to see if
anyone had seen him.

I even asked my mom if she would help me look
for Jim. She told me in no uncertain terms to stay away from the
men who lived under the bridge. I found this ironic because she
never cared where I went or when I came home. I think she just said
it to make herself feel like she wasn’t a horrible
mother.

Finally, I found someone who did answer, a
miserable old man named Rudd who was homeless like Jim. Jim didn’t
like Rudd at all. When he would fish at one of our spots, we would
move to the other side of the canal to avoid him. Rudd was a big
guy with a chubby round face that looked like he was always
blushing.

When I asked him about Jim, he removed a pint
of whiskey from his back pocket and took a giant pull.

“
Jim killed hisself. He jumped off
the dam and drowned right here where I cast my line. They have been
searching for his body for weeks. With all the rain we’ve been
having and the current being so strong, who knows if they will ever
find him,” Rudd explained.

“
You’re lying!” I screamed. “Jim
would never do that!”

“
Believe what you want! Now get
away from me!” Rudd shouted.

I hate to admit it all these years later, but
tears ran down my face that day. I yelled, calling him things I had
heard my mother say, not even knowing what they meant.

About that same time, I heard someone behind
me. It was Mr. Swindle. I ran up to him, pointing back at
Rudd.

“
He said Jim drowned! That Jim
killed himself! Is that true?” I yelled.

Mr. Swindle looked at me with broken eyes.
“I’m sorry, Jack. I am sorry you found out this way. Jim was sick.
He just couldn’t take Vietnam sneaking up on him in the night
anymore.”

I knew Mr. Swindle wouldn’t lie. He liked Jim,
and he knew how much I liked Jim as well. Mr. Swindle used to give
Jim food and money when he needed it. I knew his puffy red eyes
held the truth. I didn’t even thank him for telling me what really
happened; I just tore off for home. When I was halfway there I got
such a stitch in my side that I had to stop running. I couldn’t
catch my breath. I kicked rocks, throwing them at the tall maple
trees that lined the railroad tracks.

Why would Jim kill himself? To a 7 year old
kid it made no sense. I was angry with God for taking Jim away from
me. Angry that I had a mother that didn't want me, angry that I
didn't know who my father was. I felt like an old toy that was no
longer desirable, left in the toy box and forgotten
about.

Losing Jim made me feeling a deep loneliness I
had never experienced before. I swore never to go back to the
canal, ever. There was no reason to return, Jim wouldn’t be there.
I went to my tree house. I started drawing a picture to capture the
scene of Jim and I on the canal. I thought maybe if I put us
together on paper, then he wouldn’t really be gone.

Cindy

CHAPTER SIX

“Many a man in love with a dimple
makes the mistake of marrying the whole girl.”
~Brooken Leacock

Cindy Napier’s Diary

July 26, 1978

Two weeks ago, Sam and I tied the knot. It
wasn't the fairytale wedding I’ve always dreamed of, but it was
nice. Everyone seemed to have a great time. Over three hundred
people attended the wedding, which was held at Christ the King
Catholic Church. It was a quaint little church where Sam and his
family were parishioners. They attended service every
Sunday.

All seven of Sam's brothers and sisters had
been baptized there. So, Sam's parents were adamant about us
getting married there. To them, this was non-negotiable. They were
becoming a little too controlling for my taste.

Sam’s family filled the pews on the right side
of the church. The left side was for mine, which numbered far less
than his. The church was a sea of blue. Police blue ran in the
veins of the O’Malley family. Sam will be the fourth generation
O’Malley to serve on the Indianapolis Police Department.

When I was walking down the aisle of lopsided
wedding attendees, I felt a little annoyed that more of my family
didn't attend. It was embarrassing to see the inequity of people
representing my side of the aisle. Focusing on the moment I noticed
all eyes were on me. I felt like I was floating in my gorgeous
wedding dress as my father walked me to the altar.

One of the few things my mother helped out
with was finding and paying for my dress. She surprised me by
suggested that we stop at Abigail's and look for a wedding dress
one Saturday morning. I was shocked! Up until this point she had
not seemed to show much interest in me or my wedding. I think she
was still angry about my pregnancy. The dress I chose was ivory and
satin with an empire waist and A-line skirt. The scalloped neckline
brought all eyes to my face. There was lace around the hem. It was
an elegant dress with delicate frills all around that covered my
body quite well.

Approaching the altar I looked at Sam. I was
thinking how I was grateful that my father was able to walk me down
the aisle—sober. After we exchanged our vows, we had our first kiss
as Mr. and Mrs. Samuel O'Malley. The audience clapped and cheered.
When we walked out of the church and down the steps to Sam's car,
our family and friends threw the ceremonial rice. I found this to
be quite annoying. I was not pleased when I got to the car and
realized that my hair was covered in wedding rice. Sam laughed it
off, which annoyed me even more.

When we arrived at the Scottish Rite Cathedral
we entered the ballroom located on the second floor. The DJ
introduced as Mr. and Mrs. O’Malley, and the party began. Well, it
began for everyone but me. While it was wonderful being the center
of attention and receiving so many compliments, what I really
wanted was a drink. Many were well on their way to getting drunk
and I wanted to join them. I snuck a glass of wine. It instantly
calmed my nerves, so I had another. When Sam's mother saw what I
was doing she went over to him to say something. Mary Alice was
acting like a total bitch. She was ruining my special
day!

Like her puppet, Sam came over and told me to
slow down with the drinking. I asked him if he had any idea what it
was like to be pregnant. He just gave me a blank stare. I told him
to back off, that if he ruined my wedding day I would never forgive
him. Like a good boy he left me alone, but his mother was another
story.

Later that night Mary Alice found me smoking
with some friends in the parking lot. She pulled me aside and said
she couldn’t believe how careless I was being with the child
growing inside of me. I had been holding back for way too long, so
I unleashed on her. Seeing this Sam grabbed me by the arm. He
dragged me to his car kicking and screaming.

“
It's my body, I can do whatever I
want.” I shouted.

Then I slipped, telling Sam how my mother was
forcing me to have this baby. How I wanted an abortion, how it was
my body, my decision. How my mother guilted me into having the
baby. Sam was in shock.