Page 11 of On the Ropes
Everyone in this city had neighbors going hungry. Eddie was one of them. But not the only. I just didn’t know what the hell to say to a stubborn old man with a lot of pride.
“Yo, Dean,” he said, catching my attention. “You meet my new cat?”
I raised an eyebrow. “What new cat?”
He waved me over to the small bench in front of his house. He’d installed a red umbrella, a small bed, and a row of tiny bowls. I peeked around the umbrella to find a white cat napping in the sun.
“There she is,” he said, affection in his voice. “She ain’t nothin’ but a stray, but I started feeding her a few weeks ago. Made this little setup so we could sit on the bench together. She likes it under the umbrella when it gets too hot or if it rains.”
“What’s her name?” I asked.
He smiled and managed to keep the cigarette in his mouth. “Pam.”
“Pam?”
“Yeah. I named her myself.”
I looked back down at the sleeping cat. “Isn’t that a person’s name?”
He scratched her ears. “I don’t fucking know. She looks like a Pam, so I named her Pam.”
“And it’s a lovely name at that,” Alice called from across the street, clearly listening to our conversation.
“Thank you, Alice,” he yelled back. “We want her to feel comfortable here on the block. The kids have been helping me feed her, and Alice knitted her a blanket for if she gets cold.”
I scratched Pam behind her ears. “She’s, uh…she’s very cute, Eddie.”
“I already spoil her. I know it’s too early, but Alice said she’d knit a stocking for her at Christmas.”
He tied his robe closed, stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on his stoop. Then he grabbed his coffee and made his way over with a lawn chair to sit on the street facing Mom and Alice. On the hottest nights, the four of them filled a kiddie pool with water and sat with their feet in it, drinking beer.
I glanced at my watch while Eddie got settled. “I’m headin’ out to the job now. You need anything before I go?”
Midge gave me a playful smile. “Just for you to stay for breakfast. We never see you enough.”
“I’m here every day and also live on the same street as you.”
“It’s never enough,” she said, throwing up her hands. Potting soil went flying. “But say hello to Edna from all of us. If this weather holds, it’s gonna be a kiddie pool night.”
“Damn straight,” Eddie said, lighting another cigarette.
I went to leave but got distracted by the metaphorical mosquito buzz in my ear. I glanced uneasily at the lot. My neighbor Linda was down the shore this whole month, and her house was the one that butted right up to it. A month from now, when she returned, would it only be harder to live next to?
“So I uh…” I cleared my throat, rubbed the back of my neck. “I finally got through to someone at the city two nights ago. The guy told me they don’t have any plans to fix it up. He said it was our problem to deal with.”
Eddie growled into his coffee. Midge muttered something in Italian that I didn’t hear.
“It’s always going to be there,” Mom said softly. “I can’t believe they’re abandoning it.”
“I can believe it,” Eddie said.
“Me too,” Midge added.
I went to tell them what else the guy said—that we should fix it ourselves—but held back. “I’m going to keep trying. Someone uptown will know who we need to put pressure on to take care of it.”
“Are you going to keep doing that thing where you glare at the trash while standing in front of it?” Midge asked.
I looked at her over my shoulder. “I don’t do that.”
