Tart Tangerine #7

He should have never been there in the first place. I never knew why the old man jumped on Big Tony like he did. I mean yeah, he was hitting me. But I’m just a whore, and Big Tony’s my pimp. When I break the rules, like trying to hold out on him, he beats me for it, so I learn never to do it again.

It sounds rough, but walking the streets is a rough life. And I could have it worse. Tony, he just hits you. And never so hard it leaves a lasting mark. What good would that do? No one wants to go home with a girl who’s face looks like the ending scene in Rocky. Some girls…their pimps have been known to cut them. I heard about this one girl, Gloria, who works for that pimp Fastblack. They said he cut her so bad, she couldn’t work anymore. That’s a worry I don’t have. So yeah, it could be worse.

But I’ll never forget this day. I was working by the park, like I always do. You can pick up some rich white men out for a thrill. That’s what happened that night. I had done pretty well, managing to double, even triple my normal price with a couple of the guys. So I thought I could take a little extra home with me.

I’m still not sure how Big Tony figured out I was holding out on him. But somehow, he always can tell. So anyway, he had just smacked me and was really getting into his lecture. He talks kinda like my old high school vice principal used to talk when he caught me smoking behind the gym. Anyway, Big Tony’s just starting to hit his stride when all of a sudden, this old man, had to be sixty, leaps out of the night and jumps on his back.

I have no idea what was wrong with this guy. He was wearing a blanket tied around his neck, like some kinda superhero, and screaming things about chivalry and justice. At first, he was winning, because he took Big Tony by surprise, and I smiled inwardly as he got a lucky shot to Big Tony’s eye. But then Big Tony reacted.

It was that stupid “cape” that did the poor guy in. First, he tripped over it, then Big Tony grabbed it and used it to haul the old man in. It would almost have been humorous if not for what happened next. Big Tony clocked the old guy right in the side of the head. The old man spun around fast, and staggered. Big Tony went in to finish the job. He wasn’t as gentle with the old man as he usually was with me.

When Big Tony was done, he took my money and went home. I grabbed a quarter, ran to the nearest pay phone, and called 911. By the time the ambulance arrived, I was gone. But I read in the paper the next day that the old guy was in the hospital, in critical condition. Turned out Big Tony wasn’t his only encounter that night. Earlier, he had managed to stop a mugging and an attempted rape in the park. Witnesses said he’d come blundering in, making such a racket and spectacle that the would-be criminals ran off. Those he saved called him a hero. His family said he was crazy.

I read a week later that he died. The internal injuries were just too much for his old body to take. But in a related story, it seemed that ordinary citizens were starting to stand up for themselves. People began to help each other, if only in modest, yet important ways. People interviewed said they were just following the old man’s example. Heck, if some old man could try and make the world a better place, why couldn’t they? I know he made my world a little better, if only for that night.

I’ll never know why that old man jumped on Big Tony. But I’m glad he did.