Brothers of No Relation
“Lemmie in!” Malcom insisted.
“Are you nuts?” I called up to Walt that everything was fine, and I’d only be a minute, then I stepped out and pocketed the gun. “You vandalized my restaurant and I’m supposed to invite you into my apartment? You’re out of your fucking mind! We can talk right here.” I pulled the door shut behind me.
“I wanna see Tiny.”
“He’s gone.”
“What’da ya mean?”
“He was supposed to stay for two weeks and work in the kitchen scrubbing pots. He couldn’t hack it, so I paid him off. My bartender put him on his bus last night. He’s in Ottawa by now.”
He stared while he chewed his teeth. “You really helped ‘im? You didn’t just turn ‘im in, did’ya?”
“I really helped him. I don’t know how he’s gonna make out in Canada, especially if he couldn’t cut it for one night working in the kitchen, but that’s where he is. A kid like that has no business in war. He’s also got no business in federal prison, which is where he was headed if he kept dodging the draft. I did what I could for him. It’s up to him to make his own way now.”
A voice called my name from up the street. I looked toward the sound to see Lion moving quickly along the block. “LAW!” He hurried up and shook my hand. “I dropped Mal to make sure this was the right place, then I had to park the car. I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but after Mal told me what he did and where he’d been, and what you did, I knew we had to come and thank you. I hope you don’t mind that we didn’t call ahead.”
Lion’s presence changed my mind about letting Mal in. I invited them up and called a warning to Walt as we mounted the steps. “We’ve got more company, Love.”
Walt received the young men graciously. I introduced him to the future English teacher, Lionel Washington and Malcom. “Reeves.” Malcom sullenly added his last name as he shook hands. He eyed me and Walt like he wasn’t sure what to think about us. “You really queers? Lion says ya are.”
Lion grimaced like the inside of his mouth suddenly turned sour. He didn’t bother to scold Malcom before he apologized to Walt and me. “I’m so sorry for him. He always says whatever comes into his head. It gets him in trouble.”
I laughed off the offense. After everything I’d been through with Malcom, I couldn’t get mad at his poor decorum. At least he didn’t ask if we were fags. I told Lion not to worry about it and answered Malcom’s question. “Yes, me and Walt are queers. Does it matter?”
He shrugged. “Guess not. Me and Lion are black.”
I smirked at the implied comparison. “I noticed that. Why don’t you have a seat? Maybe we could have some coffee. The coffee’s black too. I don’t know if it’s queer, though.” I checked with Walt. “Love, is the coffee queer or straight this week?”
He chuckled over my teasing. “Straight as an arrow. It should be fine to serve to our guests.”
Lion got the joke and laughed, but it went over Malcom’s head. He hissed at Lion. “Ain’t no queer coffee, is there?”
Lion hushed him like he was a naughty child. “Shush! Coffee’s just coffee.”
I took down the cups we just put away while Walt put the percolator on the stove and set out some snacks. Once we were all settled, I explained what happened to Tiny for Lion’s benefit. He shook his head at the story. “Poor Tiny. He never fit anywhere. He’s too soft. It’s a shame. Thank you for saving him, Law. He needed someone to step in on his behalf. Me and Mal are very sorry that your kindness cost you a broken front window. We’d like to pay for it if you’ll let us.”
I dismissed their idea. “Forget it. Call it a Christmas present.”
Lion pressed. “We brought money. We took up a collection before we left the Y. We have fourteen dollars. It’s not much, but it’s a start. If you’ll tell me what the damage was, we can work to get the rest.”
I allowed myself the luxury of expressing some anger. I spoke to Lion but pointed at Malcom. “Do you know what his little stunt really cost us? It wasn’t just a couple broken panes of glass. I called in a favor and got the window fixed for free. The real cost was the fact that he threw his brick in the middle of the dinner rush with a full dining room.
“I had to comp all the meals for everyone who was seated, maybe fifty people, and I had to provide free drinks to settle everyone’s nerves. I did that to maintain our reputation. We also canceled all the reservations for the rest of the night. That cost us the revenue from maybe another hundred-and-fifty meals. We had wasted food, the pay for the entire staff for the full night, because it wasn’t their fault we had to shut down early, potential loss of reputation for the cancelled reservations, etcetera, etcetera.
“Beyond the monetary cost, there’s the fact that my husband is recovering from a massive heart attack, and he is not supposed to get excited. In case you didn’t know, he was out front waiting for me when Malcom ran up with his brick. Walt grabbed him to keep him from doing more damage. By the time I managed to separate them, he was in severe pain. I was terrified he was going to have another attack. All that said, I hope you won’t think me ungracious when I say, fuck the fourteen dollars.”
Lion was stunned at the amount of damage Malcom had done with his misguided attempt at revenge. “I had no idea it was that serious. Mal said it was just a little glass and some splintered wood. You must have lost hundreds of dollars, maybe even a thousand.”
“Likely.”
“And Mister Stack’s heart.” He addressed my husband directly. “Are you certain you’re well?”
Walt assured Lion that he was fine.
Lion asked a sensible question. “I don’t understand why you didn’t press charges. Why did you tell the police to release Mal?”
I raised my hands in an exaggerated shrug. “What purpose would it serve to send him to prison? I can’t get the money back. I can’t get the restaurant’s reputation back. My husband can’t unfeel the pain he felt. I can’t unlive the fear I experienced. The detective said at most Malcom would serve a year. Would it teach him anything to serve that year or would it just ruin his life? Probably the latter. The thing that really made the difference was when he said he did what he did in revenge for me telling the cops on Tiny. I obviously didn’t do that, but he thought I wronged his friend, so he wronged me back. It was a misguided attack, but I understand the motivation behind it. I’m tempted to admire it.
“He must’ve been really damn mad to come all the way up here from down south just to toss a brick at our window. It must be something like forty, maybe fifty blocks. Once upon a time, I would have ground an ax that hard. I’m too old for that now.” I shrugged at the obviousness of my age. “Anyway, that’s why we didn’t press charges. We didn’t do it because no one would have gained and everyone would have lost. This way, our losses are ours, Malcom’s losses are his, and the whole thing ends.”
“That’s very broadminded of you, Law.”
I waved my hand in the air to dismiss the idea that I was some kind of saint. “Don’t go thinking I’m enlightened or anything. If I wasn’t such an old man, I would have beaten your friend within an inch of his life before I turned him over to the cops. I’m not especially wise or kind. I’ve got arthritis in both my hands, and my punches don’t have any force behind them anymore. Malcom is lucky he didn’t pull this nonsense ten years ago or he’d still be in the hospital.”
Lion was grateful either way. “No matter the reason, I’m thankful you didn’t insist on your pound of flesh. You’ve got more than a right to it.”
“Maybe, but I’ve no use for it.”
Lion jammed an elbow in Malcom’s ribs. The latter objected to the rough treatment. “OW! What’s that for?”
Lion pointed my way. “Thank the man!”
Malcom did as he was told. “Thanks.”
I wondered about the two. Lion treated Malcom like a troublesome younger brother. I originally thought they just knew each other around the Y, but their interactions since they arrived at our apartment made it seem like more. “What’s the story with you two? You’re not brothers. You don’t look alike and you certainly don’t act alike.”
Lion explained. “We grew up together. Our folks were neighbors and they shoved us together. I’m a little older. Mal was like my little brother even though we’re not related. He doesn’t have anyone anymore, so I try to look after him.” Lion scowled at the sullen youth. “He makes it difficult at times.”
Malcom crossed his arms and pouted like a spoiled brat. Lion went on. “I worry about him because all he does is live at the Y and protest and cause trouble. I wish he cared about the future.”
Malcom found his voice to argue. “I care! That’s why I protest!”
Lion raised his voice. “YOUR FUTURE, IDIOT! Not the country’s. The United States has been around a long time. It’ll still be around when all this Vietnam stuff is over. I don’t like the war either, but you’ve got to look after yourself first. I can’t keep doing it for you. You’ve got to get a real job and a place to live and contribute. All you do is take. When do you plan to give?”
Malcom sprang out of his chair. “You always say dat shit! Who’m I supposed ta give to? YOU? No one ev’r gave me shit!”
Lion remained placid. “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country. It’s everyone’s duty to contribute to the betterment of those around them. I want to teach kids to survive in a difficult world. What do you want to do, besides protest and march and make it with white girls?”
Walt seized on the quote Lion used. “President Kennedy was a great man. I wish he would have lived. Maybe we wouldn’t be tangled up in Vietnam if he had.”
Lion nodded his agreement. “Amen, Mister Stack. He didn’t, though, so we’ve got to do our best with the world he left behind.”
Walt agreed. “You’re wise beyond your years. You’ll make a great teacher.”
“I hope so.”
“It must be hard to have a troublesome younger brother to worry about all the time. It must distract from your studies. When I was a little older than you, my younger sister was troublesome, too. Jane Austen always had trouble that I had to clean up after.”
Lion commented on the name. “Your sister was Jane Austen and you’re Walt Whitman. Where did that come from?”
“My father taught literature at Albright College.”
“That’s an excellent school.”
“He was a wonderful man. I miss him a great deal.”
Walt cleared his throat and turned his attention to Malcom. “Well, young man, what do you want out of life?” He gestured to the chair Malcom vacated during his outburst. “Sit, please. No one means you any harm. Would you like more coffee? How about some more snacks?”
Malcom sat carefully like he needed to be ready to flee if he was attacked. Walt topped up everyone’s coffee and refilled the plate of crackers and cheese. He pressed the youth for an answer. “Presumably you’re living at the YMCA. You’re either not working or not working very much if you have to live there. Last I checked, protesting doesn’t pay very well. Are you ready for a change, or are you happy with your current circumstances?”
The youth remained obstinate. “What da you care?”
Walt wasn’t bothered. “Maybe I don’t, but perhaps I could be persuaded to care. I’ll tell you what I was thinking, and you can let me have your opinion. You should work here in the kitchen. We can’t seem to keep help lately. Doc left us short a prep man. Tiny left us short a pot washer. Either position pays fifty-five dollars a week. I’ll hold back five dollars a week toward paying down the damage you did. After two years, if you last that long, we’ll call it even. Right next door to where we’re sitting is a furnished, one-bedroom apartment that we own. You may rent it for eighty dollars a month. I do not expect a security deposit because I know you don’t have it. What do you say?”
“Why should I?”
I grabbed a breath to blast the obstinate little fuck, but Walt spoke before I could. “You should only if you want to change your life. I have no ulterior motive for making the suggestion. I’d like to make my money back from the damage you did, but at the rate of five dollars a week, it barely matters. Your refusal would only harm you, not me. Whether you accept my offer is entirely up to you. Do you want to change your life? Do you want Lion to worry about you less, so he can focus on his studies more? Do you want to have some money in your pocket? Do you want to take your place in society, or do you want to continue to live outside of it so you can throw an occasional brick and sneer at the way everyone else chooses to live?
“Hear me well, young man; you won’t pull any of that nonsense while you live and work here. If I find out you’re planning protests in that apartment, I’ll throw you out on your ear. If I find out you’re throwing bricks at other businesses, out you go. I don’t plan to police your life, but if you come here, you’ll be an upstanding member of the community, or I’ll heave you into the street so fast it will make your head spin.
“Don’t think because my husband and I are old men, we can’t still do it. It doesn’t matter if we can or can’t because the man who runs the kitchen, the man who would be your boss, is a Marine who fought in the Pacific. He could handle ten like you without breaking a sweat. To use a desperately worn cliché, that’s the deal, and you may take it or leave it alone. What do you say?”
Lion sucked a breath to roar at Malcom, presumably for him to accept the offer. Walt shushed him. “Please, Mister Washington, it must be his choice. If he agrees, he’ll learn what it means to do an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay. He’ll learn because if he doesn’t, he’s out. Owen, the Marine I mentioned, is taking over the restaurant. I can no longer run it because of my heart. Owen is a very kind and fair man, but he will brook no disturbance in his kitchen.
“If Malcom does well, he can advance his position and make more money. He can advance within the kitchen or outside of it. He could be a first-class prep man, or train as an assistant chef. He could be a waiter, or he could train as a bartender. If he could polish his speech and manner, he might even be a host one day. Could you imagine it? He would wear an elegant tuxedo while he chaperoned finely dressed diners to their tables and advised them on the specials of the day in deferential tones. He could do it. I know he could because my husband did it for years, and Law has the capacity to be the most profane and blasphemous man I’ve ever met. It’s a good living and an honorable profession.”
He readdressed himself to Malcom. “Well, young man, what’s your answer? I will not wait forever. Make your choice before I withdraw the offer.”
To my surprise, he agreed. He schooled the obstinance from his face and accepted. “I’ll do it. Thank you, Mister Stack. Thank you, Mister Edwards. When do I start?”
Walt answered. “We’re closed on Monday and Tuesday. Come back on Tuesday with your things and you can get settled into the apartment. I’ll introduce you to Owen on Wednesday and you’ll start right away. I’ll leave it between you and him whether you work on prep or scrubbing pots. Both are entry level positions. Wednesday is our least busy day, so it’s best to start then. By Friday you’ll have to be up to speed because Friday to Sunday are our busy days.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you again.”
“I haven’t done anything except give you a chance. If you fail, you won’t have failed me, you will have failed you. Good luck.”
Walt finished his speech and yawned. “Excuse me. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. I hope you won’t take offence if I cut our visit short.”
Lion understood immediately and rose from his chair. Malcom was slower on the uptake. He only stood when Lion prompted him. Walt rose and shook hands with our guests. I escorted them out while he cleaned up the kitchen.
Out on the chilly sidewalk, Lion pushed his car keys into Malcom’s hand and sent him to warm the car. He remained to have a word with me. “Why did Mister Stack do that? Why go that far for someone like Mal?”
“I don’t know if I’m right, but I suspect he did it for you, not Malcom.”
“For me?”
“Yup. You’re in school. You’re trying to make something out of your life. You need Malcom’s bullshit like you need a hole in your head. If he’s living and working here, he’s away from his protestor friends at the Y. It’s too far for him to run back and forth whenever he feels like. He’ll have to find a new group to spend time with. With the offer of a job and an apartment, Walt plucked him out of his old life and dropped him into a new one.
“He’ll make friends fast. A lot of the kitchen staff are young. We’ve got all kinds here. He’ll find someone to pal around with. Maybe one of them will have a sister for him to date. The difference between where he was and where he’ll be is the people who work for Walt and Owen are serious people. Malcom will become a serious person. He’ll have to if he wants to survive here. This is good for him.”
Lion still didn’t understand. “It’s good for Mal but he did it for me. I don’t get it.”
I tried my explanation again. “Walt’s younger sister, Jane, always dated losers. Eventually she married one. He had to bail her out of financial jams too many times. The whole time he was stuck spending money on her, he was trying to build his dream of this restaurant. Even after all he did for her she won’t even talk to him now because he’s queer. He probably wishes she would have found a good man so she wouldn’t have been a drain on his attention and his finances.
“Doing this for Malcom does for you what no one ever did for him. Walt probably sees himself in you. He’s well-read because his professor father taught him to love stories and language. You want to teach English. You’re a serious person who’s trying to build a future. Walt’s taking Malcom off your hands so you can keep your focus where it belongs. It looks like he’s helping Malcom, but it’s you he’s worried about.”
Lion looked up at the shaded windows of our bedroom. “I’ll be. He’s a neat guy. Thank him for me, would you?”
“I will.”
He shook my hand. “Thank you too. You’re a heck of a guy. You say you’re not enlightened, but I think you are. I think you’re a Renaissance man. Thank you for not punishing my little brother just for the sake of punishment. There must be more to life than that. You obviously think so.”
“I guess. Good luck, Lion. Come see us. Come see Malcom whenever you want. If you call ahead, Walt will make dinner for us. We can eat and you and he can discuss literature. He’d love to have someone like you to chat with. He gave up trying to educate me.”
“I will. I better run. Thanks again, Law.”
“Sure. Good night.”
“Good night.”
He hurried off down the street.
I went back upstairs. Walt was already in the bedroom getting into his pajamas. I asked about what Lion called me. “What’s a Renaissance man?”
He did up his buttons while he explained. “Leon Battista Alberti, who was a Renaissance man, said ‘a man can do all things if he will.’ The idea was that men should develop their capacities as completely as possible. Alberti was an architect, painter, poet, scientist, mathematician, horseman, and an impressive athlete. You could say he was a universal man. Why do you ask?”
“Lion called me one.”
He finished with his buttons and smoothed his shirt. “I could see that. You’re a universal man. I’ve always been impressed at how adaptable you are. You can do anything you set your mind to, tinker, tailor, soldier, spy. You believe in mankind. You care about people. The Renaissance was all about humanism and the unlimited potential of man for development. I agree with Lion.”
“Why would he call me that?”
“You believed in Malcom’s unlimited capacity as a human. You didn’t want to destroy it by sending him to prison.”
I shrugged because I didn’t think I did anything special. I started to change for bed while I told Walt how grateful Lion was for what he did for Malcom. Walt was pleased to hear it. “Hopefully that nice young man can focus on his studies now instead of being worried about his little brother all the time.”
“I told him to come back so you and him can talk literature.”
“That would be nice. It would be a pleasure to talk Shakespeare or Dickens or Voltaire or Dostoyevsky or just about anyone. Thanks for thinking of me.”
“Sure. You think Malcom will cut it?”
“Owen won’t let him fail.”
I wasn’t so sure. “We’ll see.”
“I guess we will. I hope he does well, for Lionel’s sake…and for his own.”
“Me too.” I finished putting my pajamas on. “Let’s go to bed. We had a long day. It’s time to rest.”
He yawned again. “Past time. Good night, Love.”
“Good night.”
We kissed, climbed in bed, and went to sleep.”
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