Get Off Right Now
The grocery store on the first floor.
My maternal grandfather was talking with a customer. Not wanting to interrupt, I took my time looking around the shop.
True to its purpose, the place stocked a wide assortment of goods—vegetables, of course, but also grains, dried foods, olive oil, and even a modest supply of artichokes.
A short while later the customer left, and I felt Grandfather’s hand settle on my shoulder.
“Kieran. If there’s anything you want to eat, help yourself. It’s all mine, after all.”
Then, once again, tears welled up as he spoke of the terrible things he had done to our family.
“When I die, I’ll be sure to apologize to your father. I don’t know if that’ll be enough, but…”
“We’re fine, so please don’t say things like that. Oh—where are the foods Grandmother asked me to bring up?”
“I’ll pack them for you right now.”
He was stuffing the paper bags of food into a bucket when the shop door opened and a whole group walked in.
“Father, I’m here!”
The middle-aged man at the front smiled and greeted Grandfather, then glanced at me and lowered his voice.
“Looks like there’s a Chinaman living nearby, too?”
“……That’s your nephew, Inuma.”
“!”
Noh O’Connell—Mother’s eldest brother and the firstborn of the house—blinked at me.
“You’re Kieran?”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Uncle.”
Surprise gave way to a complicated, heavy gaze. Then he pulled me into a firm embrace.
“You’ve had it rough… You grew up well.”
Beside him stood Aunt, wearing a kind smile, and next to her four cousins ranging from their mid-twenties down to their teens, all staring at me with open curiosity.
“Perfect timing. Kieran can’t carry all this alone, so help him take it upstairs.”
“Robert, Brandon. You heard your grandfather?”
At Aunt’s words the two sturdy cousins in their twenties began gathering up the bags.
“Kieran needs to help me with something for a bit, so you all go on ahead.”
“See you in a little while.”
Uncle Noh clapped my shoulder and left the shop with his family.
Once we were alone, Grandfather spoke.
“It’s going to get hectic upstairs, so there are a few things I wanted to ask you first.”
“Go ahead.”
“Your mother—how’s the job treating her?”
“She’s doing well. The pay should be decent, too.”
“Is that so?”
He smiled with visible relief, then asked about my siblings.
“I heard you and your brother shine shoes. Is the work manageable?”
“Liam’s been attending the nearby public school for a few months now. Roa starts next year.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. And you?”
“……I manage a few shops.”
“Shop management? The owner must think highly of you. They’re not shortchanging you, are they?”
“I wouldn’t be able to work if they did. The pay’s not bad either.”
“Good. That’s really good.”
Tears gathered in Grandfather’s eyes again. To ease the awkwardness I asked,
“Is the store hard on you?”
“Hard? At my age I’m just grateful I can still work. Catherine helps out, so it’s manageable.”
Catherine was the youngest aunt. Even after marrying she had continued living with my grandparents—not because of any trouble, but because her husband Derek was a salesman who traveled constantly and was rarely home.
“You’ll see her soon. When they were little Catherine stuck to your mother like glue; she’ll be so happy.”
He blamed himself for breaking that bond and started crying again. I thought of the man I’d passed on the stairs earlier and asked,
“How are the neighbors?”
“They’re decent folks, mostly. The problem is they don’t pay the rent on time.”
Rent? Wait—was he the landlord?!
My eyes went wide. Grandfather gave a wry smile.
“Grandfather leases this building and runs it as a boarding house while managing the place.”
“Ah.”
A common enough arrangement. Take a five-story tenement with twenty rooms; if the owner rented them out himself he’d clear about three hundred dollars at fifteen dollars a room on average. But landlords who owned several buildings often preferred to lease an entire building at a lower rate rather than manage it personally. When the tenant also took on management duties the rent dropped even further—exactly how many big-city boarding houses worked.
So my grandparents were making money from both the first-floor grocery and the boarding house upstairs. Nothing extravagant, but enough to get by.
“You must know the owner well, then?”
“Derek introduced us. The boy knows a lot of people.”
Being a salesman meant a wide circle of acquaintances, according to Grandfather.
“What kind of sales does Uncle Derek do?”
“Cigarettes, I hear. No company of his own—he just buys wholesale stock here and there and delivers it.”
Cigarette sales regulations differed by state. In New York you could buy them at newsstands, saloons, groceries, pharmacies, hotels, train stations—pretty much anywhere. Youngest Uncle Derek apparently supplied those places.
With so many relatives, every sort of occupation was bound to turn up. I found myself curious what the cousins did for a living, too—learning about them one by one felt interesting.
“What do you do when someone doesn’t pay the rent?”
Uncontrollable tenants could sink a rental business. Rent ran late constantly, and if someone simply skipped out you were suddenly stuck with a vacant room and a pile of losses.
“Grandfather handles that just fine, so don’t worry about it.”
He handed me the bag of food—his way of telling me to go on up first.
I left the shop and climbed to the second floor. The moment I opened the front door, a lively racket poured out.
Liam and Roa were buried among the cousins, soaking up attention, while Mother sat at the table talking with Uncle Noh, Uncle Larry, and their wives.
The warmth of a big family—something I had never known even in my previous life. Just looking at the scene made me smile.
“Kieran, come sit over here.”
Uncle Noh pointed to the seat beside him.
“I hear you got Larry to the hospital?”
“My colleagues helped.”
“Is that so…… You really did a fine thing. After everything, you had every right to resent us…… You’ve grown up right.”
Today Mother’s eyes dripped honey every time she looked at me. I imagined that was the look a mother gave a son who’d just gotten into a prestigious university.
Whatever the reason, the awkwardness that had stood between us for more than a decade vanished in an instant. Mother, who had been tense the entire way here, now wore a bright smile that looked almost dazed with relief.
Her religion had played a part as well. She had left the Catholicism the Irish family had practiced for generations and converted to Protestantism; now that she had returned to the Catholic fold, everyone was delighted.
In truth she had become Protestant solely for the missionary work—and to free the family of one more mouth to feed when times were hard. I knew that, but there was no longer any need to explain or seek understanding.
I quietly slipped away from the conversation and approached Grandmother, who was cooking meat.
“Is there anything I can help with?”
“Aren’t you sweet. Grandmother can manage; go sit and talk with everyone.”
“At home I always handle the meat myself. I’ve got a pretty good hand at it.”
The moment I picked up the knife to start carving, my face twisted on its own.
This edge was worthless.
I’d have to sharpen it before I left.
While dinner was being prepared, youngest Aunt Catherine’s family—who lived with my grandparents—arrived.
As the sister closest to Mother, she reacted the most intensely. They clung to each other and sobbed as if reuniting after a lifetime of separation.
In the meantime I managed a short conversation with Uncle Derek, who was dressed in a neat suit.
He must have heard the story downstairs from Grandfather, because he showed interest in my shop-management work.
“You work on Allen Street?”
“Yes. A lingerie boutique called Intima.”
“Isn’t that the place that just opened a dance hall in the basement?”
Just how far did this cigarette route take him? Derek knew every corner of Manhattan—and he had good reason to.
“The second I heard they were opening a dance hall I went over, but the owner was hard to get ahold of.”
“……”
“Word is gangs run the place. You all right?”
“……I don’t really run into them.”
“So you haven’t met the owner either, then. I need to get some business in there.”
“For cigarette deliveries?”
Derek grinned and nodded.
“I’ve got a buddy who handles liquor, too. We went together when they opened, left a message for the owner, and never heard back.”
I remembered. The leaflets Patrick had brought me to review—maybe one of those had been his.
My interest shifted to Derek and his friends.
“Liquor means delivering by truck, right?”
“That’s right. Not company men like me—they pick up stock from wholesalers or…… yeah, from those places, and sell it.”
“Do you know a lot of fellows like that?”
“The circle’s smaller than you’d think; we share information and so on.”
Whenever a new saloon, speakeasy, or dance hall opened, salesmen descended like hawks. Cigarettes and liquor were the big ones, and independent operators sometimes dealt in smuggled goods to pad their margins. Odds were high Derek did the same.
Business ideas began branching rapidly in my mind just as Derek said he needed to help close the grocery and headed downstairs with youngest Aunt.
Eight o’clock in the evening.
Everyone who was coming had arrived.
With my grandparents at the head, the families of Noh, Larry, Mother (Nora), Ted, Anna, and Catherine had all gathered under one roof.
Mother teared up like a soap opera every time she reunited with a brother or sister—except for one person. She looked distinctly uncomfortable around Ted, who had arrived last.
Ted himself was overjoyed and even shed tears of emotion, yet Mother remained stiff and kept her distance.
In any case, this cramped apartment now held, not counting Mother, husbands, wives, and cousins—thirty-four people in total.
My grandparents had crossed from Ireland in 1895; this was how their family had multiplied. I could see why America’s population had exploded so quickly. Immigrants kept pouring in, and they immediately set about creating new families without pause.
The two bedrooms were occupied by the cousins; the living room belonged to the adults. I stood in the middle, observing the family.
What interested me most were their occupations.
Eldest son Noh worked for a trucking company. Ford had released the one-ton Model T truck this year, and any number of outfits were jumping into the business. I didn’t know the details, but Noh, who had been a truck driver, was now an employee of a newly founded firm.
Next was Larry, whom I already knew better than anyone. The moment the whole family was present he dropped the good news he had clearly been waiting to share.
“Mother, Father—I’ve been promoted to port manager at the Clyde Steamship Company.”
“Oh, how wonderful! You said your back hurt; does manager mean desk work?”
“Yes. No more hauling cargo.”
“Well, congratulations, Larry.”
Grandparents and siblings showered him with praise. Mother, who had been waiting for her moment, was about to speak when Ted suddenly cleared his throat.
“I can’t let my big brother show me up. I got promoted too.”
What company did he work for?
“You made lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir! Call me Lieutenant Ted.”
“Congratulations.”
“You’ve worked hard. Always take care of yourself.”
Lieutenant.
The rank I knew as lieutenant was used in fire departments, the military, and correctional facilities. Which one was it? Then my eyes met Mother’s. The bitter expression, the wavering pupils—I knew at once.
So that was it. NYPD lieutenant……
Tsk. I understood instantly why Mother had been so uncomfortable around Uncle Ted.
It would have been stranger if an Irish family didn’t have at least one cop among them.
She had known all along and never told me. Afraid I’d feel threatened?
My head was still spinning when Uncle Noh suddenly produced an envelope and pressed it firmly into Mother’s hand.
“Mother and Father and the rest of us put a little something together.”
“What’s this? I don’t need anything like this.”
“Stop with the pride. Forget everything that happened and buy the kids something nice to eat.”
Mother pressed her lips tight, then shot to her feet.
“Nora, that isn’t what we meant.”
“Just sit down.”
Noh and Larry looked helpless. Then Mother set the large bag she had brought from home onto the table.
“This is for Mom and Dad. And these are……”
“Oh my, bras!”
Everyone knew what brassieres were. The word had clearly spread among the women; some of them were even wearing them. Youngest Aunt Catherine checked the label and her eyes went round.
“Derek bought me this exact one at Macy’s! Free Your Body—that’s right. Nora, why did you bring such expensive things?”
The corner of Mother’s mouth twitched. She glanced at me, then raised her voice with a look of pure pride.
“I’m the company president.”
“……Huh?”
“I’m the president of Free Your Body.”
The men looked blank. Only the women gaped and shrieked.
“You made these?!”
“Wow! Nora was the Free Your Body president?!”
Even the cousins in their twenties came barreling out of the bedroom.
“Auntie what? Nora Auntie did what?”
“Ohhh, what are those bras?!”
While everyone went wild over the lingerie, Uncle Derek sidled up to me.
“So the shop on the first floor sells those?”
“Yes. Only Mother’s company products.”
“Then it’s not just ordinary shop management.”
He had grasped the nature of the store and now wore an intrigued expression.
“Not long ago the owner of the sewing-machine company your mother worked for died and there were even protests, as I recall.”
“A lot happened.”
“I see. Catherine can finally sleep easy.”
Even among family, jealousy and envy existed. I scanned the faces carefully, but every single person looked as genuinely happy as youngest Aunt Catherine.
“I was surprised you’d come here so readily, proud as you are. So this was the good news. I’m really glad—truly glad.”
“Real congratulations. Can I come visit big sister’s company?”
“Of course.”
Christmas Eve night grew late.
Roa fell asleep tangled up with cousins her own age instead of Teddy. Liam bantered and laughed with three cousins around his age.
In the living room a drinking party got underway. Uncle Noh’s voice grew louder with every swallow of whiskey.
“I’m driving a truck all the way to Ohio when suddenly these guys on horseback start chasing me. I figure this is bad, so I tell the guard in the passenger seat to start shooting. We were carrying expensive cargo, see.”
A brand-new transport company had to treat a client’s goods like life itself, he insisted.
“I’m holding the wheel with one hand and a pistol with the other, blasting away behind us. They must’ve decided it wasn’t worth it, because they turned tail and ran.”
If that story was true, the man was a capable asset. Perfect for hauling whiskey-running trucks. For all I knew he was already doing that kind of work.
Delivering all the way to Ohio by truck when freight trains existed? It could have been schedules, fixed routes, or freight rates—or it could have been a way to dodge cargo inspections. Plenty of people used trucks for exactly that reason.
As Uncle Noh’s tale stretched on I grew bored. Too many people, too little space. I quietly opened the front door for some air.
Out in the hallway I heard a door open and close on the floor above. I was slowly descending the stairs when a voice called out.
“Even you think it’s noisy, right?”
It was the man I had run into earlier in the day. His eyes were glassy; he’d clearly had a few drinks.
“It’s a racket up there too. Hell, my ears are killing me.”
I’d been the same in my previous life.
You suffering from PTSD, pal?
The man coming down the stairs tilted his head. Then I realized—I wasn’t wearing a scarf.
“You’re Oriental?”
When I didn’t answer, his eyes narrowed.
“You piece of shit ignoring people when they talk to you?”
I considered for a moment, then spoke.
“I’m mixed.”
“Tch. So you’re the grandson Old Man Matthew was talking about.”
“What did he say about me?”
He finished the stairs, closed the distance, and shrugged with both corners of his mouth curling up.
“Hell if I know. Something about how his damn daughter fell for a Chinaman and some—”
I reached out; he instinctively leaned his upper body back. From that position he launched a counter—right foot snapping toward my chest.
He meant to shove me down the stairs. Instead I drove my elbow down onto his foot and at the same time seized his coat with my other hand and yanked him toward me.
Standing three or four steps higher, his balance collapsed and he came flying as if pulled by a magnet. I used that momentum to hurl him the rest of the way down.
Thud!
The bottom of the stairs opened straight onto the tenement entrance. The man twisted and groaned on the floor. I walked down slowly, grabbed him by the scruff, and hauled him upright.
“What exactly did Grandfather say?”
“……Urgh……”
I drove a knee into his gut. Just as I was about to seize his arm and twist it, Ted came thundering down the stairs with a pistol leveled.
“Anthony! You bastard, get the hell off him right now!”
“……That’s something you should be saying to your nephew, damn it……”
I leaned close to the man’s—Anthony’s—ear and whispered,
Shut up. Open your mouth again and you die.
It must have been too dark for Ted to see clearly. In any case I slowly disentangled myself and stepped back.
Anthony raised both hands and let out a long sigh toward the ceiling.