32. INTERLUDE: JOSEF

The blazing sun is directly over Josef’s lounger when Arkady finally stumbles out through the sliding doors onto the pool deck, Bloody Mary in hand. His thick terrycloth robe flows out around him like a blanket as he lowers himself onto the lounger next to his father’s.

“Good afternoon,” Josef says, glancing at his watch. “A little past when we said we’d meet, isn’t it?”

Arkady groans. “I got in late, Pops. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Josef says. “Young people stay out late. I was like you once, believe it or not.”

“I don’t believe it,” his son says with a smug grin. “I thought you were born a middle-aged grump.”

Josef chuckles as he rises from the lounger. He feels a trickle of sweat running down his neck from behind his ears.

“I need to cool off,” he says, stepping into the blessed chill of the pool water. “You should join me.”

Arkady downs the rest of his drink and gives his head a shake.

“Maybe I will. Help get rid of this hangover.”

“That’s the spirit,” says Josef. “Water is the source of all life, you know.”

“Sure, whatever.”

Arkady bobs in the shallow end, dipping down to his chin with his knees on the bottom. Josef glides over to him.

“I meant what I said, you know. I was just like you, once.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“I was young and stupid. Thought I knew more than I actually did. Pissed people off.”

Josef catches Arkady rolling his bloodshot eyes, but chooses to ignore it.

“The difference is that I had something back then that you don’t, son.”

“Gee, Pops, what was it? I’m dying to know.”

“I had a friend named Nick Chernenko.”

Arkady stops bobbing and keeps still. The scowl on his face says he’s not in the mood.

Fuck your mood, Josef thinks.

“Look, Pops – ”

Josef cuts him off as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Nick was a special kind of person,” he says. “Not special as in he was a really good friend, although he was. What I mean is he had… unique skills.”

Arkady sighs. “What are you trying to say?”

“One time Nick and I were at a bar in Sheepshead, just the two of us, nobody else from the family. This was back in the ‘90s, when you could still smoke indoors, and there were a handful of bikers playing pool in the back, and they’re puffing on these long cigars that smelled like burning tires.

“After a while, a couple of girls start telling these guys to go smoke outside. You know how Brooklyn women are. Now, these biker types take that as some sort of come on, and next thing we know, they’re grabbing at these girls, pushing them around. You know what I’m saying?”

Arkady’s eyes narrow but he says nothing.

“I’m barely noticing this at the time, but Nick happens to look over and see it. I’m telling him a joke and he holds up a finger and tells me to hang on a second. He walks over with his bottle of Miller Lite to the pool room. He says something to the biggest guy, easily six-foot-six, and suddenly there’s a pool cue swinging at Nick’s head.

“I blink a few times, there’s a blur, I hear glass smashing and some other noises. Then I see Nick walking back to our table. In the pool room, I see four bikers in a pile on the floor and a bunch of people standing around gawking. I’m talking seven, eight seconds tops and these guys are out cold. Nick sits back down across from me and waves at the waitress to bring him another beer, because he’d smashed his last bottle against the biggest biker’s skull.

“Finally he looks at me and says, ‘So anyway, three lawyers walk into a bar, then what?’”

Arkady runs a hand down his face, leaving a sheen of pool water on his skin.

“I get it, he’s a tough guy. What’s the point?”

Josef sighs as he wraps his forearm around his son’s throat and pushes down on the top of his head until it’s submerged. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, but he can’t let up for a second. His son has always had to learn things the hard way; Josef knows this. He blames himself for not making the point clearly the first time.

Arkady struggles fiercely, and he’s stronger than his father. But Josef has leverage, and the desperate strength of a father trying to save his son’s life. He counts out in Mississippis, all the way to thirty, before he finally lets go.

His son breaks the surface with a huge gasp, gulping in air and blowing water and snot out of his nose.

“JESUS FUCK – ”

Josef grabs him again and sends him back under the surface. This time Arkady is weaker from lack of oxygen, but his panic is giving him more fuel than Josef would have believed. He makes it to twenty Mississippis this time before letting him up.

Now Arkady staggers to the edge of the pool and steadies himself, coughing in great, ugly barks as he tries desperately to fill his depleted lungs. Josef lets him do this for several seconds before he speaks.

“Do you have any idea why I’m doing this?” he asks.

Arkady turns and glares at him with blazing eyes that are crimson with broken blood vessels.

“Because you’re a sadistic fuck?!” he barks, then collapses into a coughing fit.

Josef floats over to his son and waits until the wheezing subsides.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

Still glaring, Arkady manages to nod. Satisfied that his son isn’t going to choke to death, he grabs the boy’s throat and slams his head against the tile edge of the pool.

“I’m doing this,” he whispers savagely in Arkady’s ear, “because I would rather you drowned by my own hand than suffer whatever Nick Chernenko will do to you if you fuck with him just one more time.”

“I didn’t – ” his son croaks.

“He KNOWS, you stupid little bastard!” Josef screams. “You’ve been at his house! You’ve watched him through a spotting scope! After we both told you to drop it!”

He lets go, shocked at his own trembling as adrenaline courses through his body in time with his heartbeat. He didn’t know a person could feel such fury and such fear at the same time.

Arkady steadies himself with a hand on the pool edge as he bends over, choking and retching into the water.

“Tell me you get it,” Josef says quietly. “Look me in the eye and tell me you understand that Nick will kill you if you don’t stop.”

His son’s gaze is unreadable as he looks up, his hand at his throat, his chest heaving.

“I understand,” he husks.

“I don’t believe you.”

Tears well in Arkady’s eyes, and Josef’s stomach finally unclenches. He’s made his point.

“I understand,” Arkady sobs.

With an overwhelming sense of relief, Josef takes his son tenderly in his arms and puts the boy’s head on his shoulder. How did it come to this? Where did they go wrong with him?

“I’m so glad,” he whispers in Arkady’s ear. “I was so scared I’d lose you.”

“I won’t go near him again,” the boy says. “Or her.”

Josef holds him at arm’s length and looks him over. Other than the red eyes, he doesn’t have any noticeable marks. Pam will just assume he’s hung over a little more than usual.

“You should get some rest. Go inside and lie down. I’ll tell your mother that you’re not feeling well.”

Arkady climbs slowly and silently out of the pool, stopping to steady himself on the side of the lounger as he picks up his robe. He wraps it around himself and shuffles slowly back in through the sliding doors.

Once the boy is out of sight, Josef heaves a massive sigh, shaking as he exhales. He can’t remember the last time he felt so horrible, so out of control. Only a child could possibly make a man feel this way, he tells himself. You’re still in charge of the family. Still in control. You’re not weak.

Then the sound of Nick’s voice in his ear again: I will kill him.

He shudders. By late afternoon, he will have finished an entire pint of Green Mark on his own.