A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [28]
“You new here?” the cop asked.
“I grew up here,” Gordon said, eyes wide, waiting.
“You grew up here and you don’t know Feaster?” the cop said.
“I just moved back. A couple weeks ago.”
“Right when Feaster started coming around again!” Mrs. Jukas called out angrily. “The same time he came back.” She pointed at Gordon.
Light flared behind her house. A second cop emerged from her backyard, crisscrossing his flashlight’s grainy beacon from the foundation up to the roof. “There’s no fire,” he told the old woman. “Believe me, I checked everywhere.”
“They were just trying to scare you, that’s all,” the older cop said. “That’s what they do.”
“Just trying to scare me!” Mrs. Jukas hit her breast. “He threatened me, that’s what he did! And I want him arrested! You can arrest him for that! I know you can! Threatening a senior citizen’s against the law, and I know that for a fact!” Chest heaving, she eased into her bent aluminum porch chair.
Both officers leaned close. Was she all right? Could she hear them? Was she having the chest pains again?
Gordon slipped onto his own narrow, little porch, his grip tight on the doorknob.
“Mr. Gordon!” the older cop called. “No need to call anyone! She says she’s fine.”
“Oh,” Gordon said, turning.
“Can you come here a minute?” the older cop asked, gesturing.
“Yes, sir.” Gordon hurried over. He stood in the shadows, shocked by the debris piled in the corners of her once-immaculate porch—leaves, papers, plastic cups, fast-food bags, empty cigarette packs.
The younger cop looked like an infantryman with his combat pants tucked into his boots. He shook his head in disgust as Mrs. Jukas described coming home last week from the doctor to find Feaster stretched out on a lounge chair in her backyard. He had refused to leave.
“You should have called us.”
“I did, but you never came!”
“We told her we’ll keep going by all night,” the older cop told Gordon in a low voice. “But I think she’ll feel better if she knows you’ll be keeping an eye on things, too.”
Gordon doubted that, but he nodded, then asked what had happened.
Apparently Mrs. Jukas had told Feaster and his driver to stop having that girl sell drugs in front of her house. They said if she didn’t shut up and go inside, they’d burn her house down. She told them she was going in all right, but to call the police! Which she did, but when they arrived, no one was here.
“Because it took you twenty-five minutes to get here!” the old woman shouted from her chair. “Twenty-five minutes! Next time I’m taking pictures. And I told them, too. That way I’ll have proof!”
The older cop rolled his eyes at Gordon. The younger cop was trying to explain that for her own safety she shouldn’t rile these people up. They could be very dangerous. Especially Ronnie Feaster, who lately thought he had free rein in this part of the city.
From now on, she should stay inside and just let the police handle it.
“Handle it! You call this handling it?” she said in a tremulous voice. With her arms crossed and hands clasping her shoulders, she looked frail and drained. “What good are you?” she asked wearily. “The minute you’re gone they’ll be back.”
“Mrs. Jukas!” The older cop sounded almost irritated. “Your neighbor here says he’ll keep an eye on things, so it’s not like you’re going to be alone or anything. Right, Mr. Gordon?”
“Yes, sir, that’s right. I will. I’ll keep an eye on things,” he said.
“His name is Loomis.” She stared at the cop.
“Sorry, thought you said Gordon,” the cop said on his way down the steps.
“I did. Gordon’s my first name.”
As the cruiser pulled out, she looked up wanly at Gordon, the devil she’d been left with. She shrank deeper into her lopsided chair with its frayed and dangling nylon strips.
“Here.” Gordon picked up a McDonald’s bag and tore off a piece. He wrote down his telephone number. “You know, if you’re afraid, or if you just hear something and you want me to take a look.” He held out the paper. “Well, anyway.” He laid it on the very end