Saving Room for Dessert Read Free Page B

what they’re gonna see is your skin.
     And if you don’t come on super cool, calm, and collected, they’re gonna turn on you, no matter what the beef was that prompted
     the call.”
    “I know that.”
    “Yeah, but I don’t think you know why.”
    “I think I know why.”
    “No, excuse me, but I don’t think you do, you’re too young. This goes back to when the unions were startin’ to organize, way
     before my time, but not before my father’s time. The steelworkers and the miners, when they were tryin’ to organize in the
     early part of this century, whether they walked out or got locked out, it didn’t matter which. ’Cause if it went on for too
     long, the owners, they’d bring in the scabs. And guess what color most of them were. They also brought in the immigrants too,
     the new hunkies and the new wops. But the immigrants, eventually they could blend in. Not so with the blacks. And that shit?
     That old resentment over them bein’ scabs? That’s still here, man. Even though those unions are dead. ’Cause the owners, that
     animosity between the old union guys and the scabs? The owners worked that, man, they worked that to their benefit for years
     and years. Decades. And it’s still here, don’t think it isn’t. I swear I think sometimes it got passed down through the genes.”
    “I do know that,” Rayford said. “I have read my history.”
    “Yeah? Well good. But knowin’ it is one thing. Havin’ to deal with the results, that’s somethin’ else again. What I’m tellin’
     you is, you gotta be real careful how you get outta the car. Be real careful how fast you walk up on people. And especially
     be real careful to keep your distance, three steps at least, and if you gotta get physical with somebody, unless it looks
     like somebody’s gonna get hurt bad or killed, don’t even think about doin’ it without backup. And even with backup, you be
     absolutely sure you don’t let anybody get behind you. These things over trees, dog shit, parkin’ spaces, I’m tellin’ ya, people
     come outta the houses with everything you can think of in their hands, every tool they got in their cellar, everything they
     got in their kitchen. So you make sure their hands’re empty when they’re comin’ to see what the noise is about.
    “And don’t forget the spectators. Worst beatin’ I ever took on the job was from a woman I coulda picked up with one hand.
     And all because I didn’t think she packed the will or the gear. Big mistake. She hit me with a metal servin’ spoon, caught
     me in the throat with the first one, second one right under the nose, third one I managed to get my arm up, that’s when I
     saw the knife in her other hand. Look here.” Balzic pulled his sleeve up and nodded to the scar on his left forearm.
    “Twenty-three stitches to close that up, and what fooled me was she never said a word. Had her hands behind her, just walked
     up and started swingin’. Turned out the guy I was cuffin’ was her son. God only knows why she swung the spoon first, ’cause
     if she’da swung the knife first? She’da laid my throat open, I never saw it comin’. That was the first time I ever pulled
     my piece on anybody. ’Cause I did everything wrong. Didn’t call for backup, never challenged her, never looked at her hands,
     and soon as she caught me with the spoon, he started kickin’ at me, her son, so I had to resort to usin’ my piece. I’m backin’
     up, blood flyin’ everywhere, I’m tryin’ to get my piece out, they’re both comin’ at me, I finally clear my piece, I’m screamin’
     get on the ground or I’ll kill you both. And thank God, they did.
    “But from then on, buddy boy, nobody walked into my space they didn’t show their hands, I didn’t care who else was there or
     what else was goin’ on. Fuckin’ pope himself, he walked up on me, he’da had to show me what he was holdin’. What I’m sayin’
     is—and you can’t ever forget this—their