Slow to Grow

Chapter 3

  Lloyd lived in a suburb about 10 miles due north of Chicago. It was a mix of blue collar families that had lived in the town for generations and an influx of upper middle class whites who had moved there within the previous 20 years. They were commonly referred to as Along nosed Jews.@

  The funny thing was that most of the Jews in the neighborhood were of the reformed variety, by which means they were barely Jewish, no kosher stuff, no yarmulkes, no real outward displays of Judaistic tendencies. Including the Kulligans. But to the old timers they might as well been swinging chickens over their heads and sacrificing lambs in their backyards. To them a Jew was a cheap, money grubbing, money obsessed lawyer, slash doctor slash lawyer with hook noses and horns growing out the top of their heads who drove fancy Cadillacs. It was only partly true.

  Lloyd got along with most of the kids even if their parents personally blamed him for killing their lord and savior. Kevin Folian=s mother used to make Lloyd pray when he came over, she would ask him if he knew the Lord=s Prayer, and then would mutter Jew under her breath. When Lloyd would ask what she just said, she would answer like a knock knock joke. Jew eat? Jew want some food? She sounded Hispanic when she did it. One time Kevin thought he would pay Lloyd the ultimate compliment by telling him he was quote, ACool for a Jew.@ Kevin died of a drug overdose twelve years later.

  There was an easy way to tell the difference between the semites and the gentiles. Very easy. The Gentiles spent approximately 27 hours a week working on their lawns and automobiles, while the Jews paid someone else to do it. Lloyd didn=t understand why someone would want to spend hours bent over the engine of a greasy car and letting the oil out of the carburetor or the manifold or wherever the oil went, and clanging away at the mangilating hulifax pipe credenzil when you could just pay someone to do it. Those goyim, always good with their hands.

  Ugh, and the incessant car washing. Every single Saturday, Bob Mitnek would be out washing the crap out of his van. A Van. Every week. Who gives a shit if a van is clean. The Kulligan cars probably went to a car wash once a year, in fact Lloyd never remembered their car ever going to a car wash.

  The Van. The Blue Mitnek van. Beloved more than his own children. That isn=t a joke. Mitnek beat his wife and kids. You could hear the screams emanating from his house almost daily.

  Mitnek lived right next door to the Kulligans. His driveway was right outside Lloyd=s bedroom window. Bob Mitnek. He slunk down his driveway like a Cro-Magnon. He always wore the same old fruit of the loom white t-shirt with all his back hair and chest hair bursting out of it like sasquatch in a dago t. The Kulligans called it his hairshirt. And his face. If Adolph Hitler and Mike Ditka mated you that would be perfect caricature. Mustache included at no extra charge.

  He was the bane of the existence of the Kulligan Family for every single day of the 25 years they lived next door to him. Except for the 32 days he was locked up in Cook County Jail on a domestic. That was a pleasant time. Lloyd=s dad once said Mitnek would survive a nuclear holocaust, because he was a cockroach.

  Every morning EXACTLY at 7:10, he would slink out of his house, slam a few of the doors and then start his beloved blue Ford van and let it run for exactly 13 minutes. EXACTLY. Lloyd did not awake until 7:30, so every fucking day the incessant rumblings of the van would arouse Lloyd from his deep slumber where he would immediately start cursing.

  Fucking Mitlek, you fucking cockbag douche, let me guess it=s 7:10. Oh what a shock it is.

  RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE, the van idled for the 1212th day in a row.

  Lloyd lay counting the 780 exact seconds before Mitnek would come back out and pull out of the driveway. And slam the door another 6 or 7 times for good measure. And then when he came home from work. BOOM BOOM BOOM

  What the hell is he doing that he needs to slam those goddamn doors?! BOOM. HE DID IT AGAIN!! What is he doing!? BOOM. That is the fourth time. What is that cockbag doing? Loading dead bodies into there?

  And then Lloyd would go to the window like he did every single day to watch Mitnek do what he inevitably did EVERY SINGLE DAY. THE SAME DAMN THING. He would get in the van, and then he would get out of the van. And then he would get in the van, and then he would get out of the van. Four sets of that EVERY FUCKING DAY. In between that of course would be the screaming at his kids, and then at his wife, who would then peer out the window and sneer at the Kulligan family like they were the white trash.

  Yes, sneer at us, we are the ones who are staying married to a guy who beats us on a daily basis and abuses the children. Yes, you should hate us for knowing what goes on behind your doors. That is our fault. We deeply apologize for noticing the bruises and the crying. We will try not to let it happen again.

  And God forbid somebody park on the street in front of his house. He would peer through the hole he made in his window curtain and come storming out and pace and mutter and swear.

  The person who had parked out front had no clue what was they had done wrong, considering they were functioning in the real world, and would carry on with their normal proceedings. He would yell anti-semetic rants and threaten to call the cops on them. Inevitably each time it happened the person would glance over their shoulders assuming he was talking to someone else. It was a public street and they parked in an open spot. One time Mitnek chose the wrong person to berate for having the temerity to park in front of his house. Milt Catner, Kulligan family friend and former law partner of Lloyd=s dad, Nathan.

  Well it so happens that two days after Mitnek berated Mr. Catner for parking in front of his house, the local police received an anonymous call about a man beating his wife. As the police arrived, saw fresh wounds on Deirdre Mitnek (they could have been inflicted at any time) and took Mitnek away. And that=s how he served his aforementioned domestic charge.

  As the police led him away, he starting threatening the Kulligan House. Literally, the house, since the Kulligans were not home at the time. Or so he thought. They had parked their cars on the other block. Always thinking ahead.

  Unfortunately, the police do not release the names of those making 911 calls, especially to the Defendant. And when Mitnek appeared in court, guess who the prosecutor was. Milt Catner.

  When Mitnek was released after his sentence, his rage was at an all-time high. He wandered up and down the driveway screaming and hammering random bricks on his house and slamming the doors of his beloved van. He started ranting like Robert Deniro in Cape Fear about the Kulligans, convinced they were behind his incarceration. ACome out, come out wherever you are,@ he menaced.

  Lloyd=s father had enough and stormed outside and yelled at Mitnek AGO BACK INTO YOUR WORMHOLE, YOU WEASEL!@ Lloyd, buoyed by his father, added, AHope your cornhole isn=t sore!!@ Bonding didn=t come better than that.