CHAPTER 13

Kuch

By Tammy Mehmed

Jerome Kucinich sat in his New York office looking out the window on the 28th floor enjoying a strong cup of coffee with a hit of whiskey. He enjoyed Saturdays when no one else was around. Sometimes it was the only peace he could find. He was distracted by his brother-in-law’s story and how he punched the lights out of that Kiwi squash pro that had taken up with Marlene. Kucinich knew he wasn’t always around for her, but he never thought she would wander. He kept Marlene stocked in the finest clothing, jewels and beauty services a New Yorker could want. She didn’t have to work – so she enjoyed her daily workouts at the East Side Club. Marlene was the only one to call him Jerry. Everyone else addressed him as “Jerome” or “Kuch”.

His Croatian father, Alexi, immigrated shortly after World War II when so many Europeans decided to escape the uncertainties of their motherland for the American Dream. He came over with several war buddies and settled in New York. With a large Croatian population in the Meatpacking District in Manhattan it was easy for him to find a job there among some of his own people, making his transition easier. Alexi was a hard worker and quickly moved his way up the meat packing ranks. After a couple of years, he met Anna who was brought over from Germany by a wealthy family. She helped raise the family’s two children as well as cook for all of them. Alexi and Anna eventually married and began the American Dream.

Kucinich’s parents moved to the Jersey Shore in the late 60s when the Meatpacking District went through some challenging times. Alexi opened his own butcher shop and was proud of his accomplishments. He had two sons and one daughter, all of whom he put through college. The oldest son kept the family butcher shop and expanded the business to several locations including a deli. The middle daughter became a transactional lawyer and baby Jerome received an engineering degree from the New Jersey Institute of Technology.

To make ends meet during school, Kucinich worked in construction on the shore. His father had taught him the basics of construction, plumbing and electrical – all things he’d learned in the old country. So Jerome knew lots of short cuts to make things work with substandard equipment and supplies. Permits were the least of his worries – just keep it standing was his motto. He learned you could always fix it when it broke. Unfortunately, his haphazard style of old country construction didn’t always pass muster in the 21^st century world of hurricanes, fires and other natural disasters, and he occasionally found himself in hot water. He was always walking the line on his inspections –but he kept inspectors fully stocked with prime cuts of meat from the butcher shop. They would show up as gift baskets at their home with no note – but the inspectors all knew where they came from. His development company, Alexian Group (a nod to his father and mother), was one that not only bought the land to develop, but also did their own construction. Kucinich had his own idea of how a building should be built -- by cutting corners he could control the product and the cost.

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Jerry, Hank and Kate discussed revealing Pike’s address to Kucinich. They felt bad about setting him up, but after Kate explained what Pike did in her apartment, her dad and Jerry were totally on board to put an end to this. As it was Saturday, they doubted that Kucinich would be in his office, but they tried anyway. If they didn’t get through, they were going to find Marlene’s “in case of emergency” numbers in the Club’s records. Jerry dialed the number he found online for Alexian, where a series of recordings moved him along the voicemail system. He typed in the letters K –U –C – I – N, when the system said “for Jerome Kucinich, press 1”. He pressed “1”. After about two rings, he heard:

“Yeh, Kucinich here.”

“Hi Jerome, I’m a member at the East Side Club, you know where your wife, Marlene, plays squash. “

“Okay, so what do you want?”

“Well, I have some information that you might be interested in. We’ve been having some problems with a pro that used to work here, a Kiwi and a real punk named Pike – you know him?”

“Maybe – what’s it to ya?” Kucinich grunted trying not to sound too interested.

Jerry continued, “Well, he’s gotten out of the squash business and fell off the grid a while ago, but he seems to have resurfaced as a dog walker and has been hitting on one of our pro’s daughter. He actually ransacked her home and is harassing her because she wouldn’t go home with him one night after drinks. Anyway, I heard you had a hard-on for him, so I thought I might bring the two of you together. I have an address for him if you’re interested.”

“Interesting. Well, I’ll take it down, you never know when it might come in handy. Go on,” rumbled Kucinich.

Jerry rattled off Pike’s address at Joe’s place which Marie had provided for Kate. He hung up with Kuchinich, with all wondering just what wheels had been set in motion.

Jerry had a shit-eating grin on his face. He loved to stir the pot and this pot was stewing now! “Hey Hank, this was much better than a lesson – make sure I don’t get charged though – okay.”

“Man, you bet. I can’t believe we actually got Kucinich on the phone. I wonder what he’s going to do.”

“He sure sounded cool – but I suppose that’s his style – he can’t let anyone read him since he’s not necessarily on the up and up,” piped Jerry. “Now to work on the state of the club – maybe Kucinich will help us, if he gets a piece of Pike.”

Hank took Kate’s hand, saying “Come on Hon, let’s get a smoothie and cruise the club until my next lesson.”

Kate was thankful that the reconciliation with her dad had required nothing more than her showing up. She had missed his touch, his kindness and just having someone take care of her. A weight was lifted from her shoulders.

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After Pike ran into Kate at the East Side Club, he knew better than to hang around. He knew she would be visiting her dad and he also didn’t want to risk running into any of those other ladies he’d had problems with last year. With his tail tucked between his legs, he headed back to the Village to numb his pain at his favorite pub, still unaware that his unsavory actions had been caught on the nanny cam. As far as he knew, he’d be walking Sassy on Monday – boy, was he in for a surprise.

Tammy Mehmed is practically a native San Franciscan, having relocated from Michigan in 1981.  By day she is a legal secretary at a large international law firm; by night and weekend she trains people and their dogs and competes in canine agility and rally obedience.  She first learned that squash existed in the late 70s from her high school boyfriend and may have even watched a few games.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.