Big Man?

OPEN WINDOWS-CLOSED MINDS

 

Joey got married in a hurry three years ago. He and Julia don't get along at all and already have three kids. In the summer when the windows are open, everybody knows their business. Joey has a pretty good job, head chef at Baroni's Trattoria. His wife is grateful when he brings home dinners a few nights each week as she hates, amongst other things, cooking. In just their three years she has already gained twenty-five lbs. Jason and Mason, their twins, eat some of the brought home pastas cut into tiny pieces or mashed. They get their milk, ripe fruits and soft boiled eggs. Already they look like baby Humpty Dumptys. Sometimes when I walk past their house, I am tempted to call the police before somebody gets murdered. So far nobody has. I turn my head, walk away and end up minding my own business.

 

Joey's success at Baroni's is surely based on his pleasure in giving customers his personal interest. Now and then my wife and I have dinner at Baroni's, never tell Joey we're coming, want no discount or special treatment. Tonight is our tenth anniversary. Deana and I stop in Carlson's for a quiet cocktail hour, then head down the street to Baroni's, also called 'Joey's. He struts out of the kitchen with his big white chef hat wobbling on his bald head. When he is aware of a special evening, he sends a bottle of wine to the celebrants or a fantastic chocolate mousse covered with whipped cream for dessert. Neither I nor Deana mentioned our anniversary but he knows somehow, sends us a bottle of Brut champagne. The woman at the table next to ours leans over to Deana to tell us what a wonderful man Joey is. If she only knew perhaps she would dine elsewhere.

 

Julia is made from the same slimey mud as Joey, caring more about her own unhappiness than the abuse and wrath she and Joey pile on each other and their children. Recently I have seen rinsed out diapers hanging out the front windows of the apartment. Neighbors are complaining to each other. As far as I know, no body has complained to Julia, until Joey sees the white flags blowing from his building. At one a.m. when he gets home from work, I hear him honking his horn, making a racket, yelling at the top of his lungs, 'Julia, Crazy Woman, take those diapers inside before I get upstairs or you're dead meat.' She opens the window and lets a few fly to the pavement. One falls right in Joey's face. Shards of glass break out of the slammed window. I can see Julia standing near the window, ready to take on Joey. She's holds a big bread knife like a dagger, just waiting to finally be rid of him.

 

I pull my cell phone from my back pants pocket, get 911 and stutter out the emergency. Nothing else I can do but wait for the patrol car. There is little traffic so I take a chance and stand in the street, waving my arms as soon as I think I hear a siren. The officers pull over, get a very brief description from me about the murder that may be happening, slam their car door and race into the house. I stand still, waiting to hear an ambulance, the M.E. arrive. No other emergency equipment comes. The police have left me downstairs, worried, frightened, aware I am not wanted upstairs.

 

I am pretty sure I have gone out of my mind when the two officers come out of the house smiling, holding coffee cups and donuts. They approach me, tell me to get in their car. We sit at the curb while I get a lecture about making a false 911 report. 'What did you think you were doing, Mr.? Those two lovebirds were tossing off their clothes, getting into bed when we got there. That big knife you reported happened to be on the kitchen table next to a chocolate mousse that was covered with whipped cream. Mr. Joey has invited me and my partner to Baroni's for dinner next week. He's a really great guy.'

 

He continues chastising me, 'and you, Mister, better not make a false report again because you're now listed as a trouble maker in our files. Second one and you won't have a chance to make a third one. Goodnite