by Justin Crouse

I worked with Paulie on the shipping dock--Well; we worked in the shipping department. I humped boxes of produce into trucks, and Paulie did all the paperwork in his office. He looked out for me because I was the youngest guy on the crew, and because he had no legs. The other humps teased me about being a baby, and they teased Paulie about his wheels. He let me hang out in his office, the only warm spot on the dock. I had a mug in there for coffee, and sometimes there was red jelly donuts.

"What you got under that blanket?" I asked him between trucks.

"Stumps kid. You want to see?"

"Nope. Just wonderin' that's all." I wasn't grossed out or anything, I just didn't want to get caught by those other humps, Tyson and Big Al and them, peeking under Paulie's skirt. They'd never let go of that one.

"You still got, you know?" I didn't want him to think I was gay or something, but you hang around a guy with no legs long enough and you're gonna wonder.

"I got two screamin' brats to prove it. What do you want to know that for anyway?" He set his pen down, and looked up over his glasses. I didn't want him to be sore or anything. My Ma says sometimes I don't think before I speak.

"I dunno Paulie, I didn't mean nothin'. Can I ask you something else?"

"Is it about my dick?"

I almost spit coffee out. The other guys didn't mess with Paulie much to his face because he's funny and smart.

"No, no, it ain't about that." It makes me feel better when he puts his hands behind his head and looks at me. I think Paulie gets a kick out of me sometimes. "I was just wonderin'. How old are you, Paulie?"

"What's got you so interested in me today?" I try not to laugh when he scrunches up his eyebrows, but it's hard not to. I hope it don't mean he's sore or something.

"Ahh, it's a slow day. I was just wonderin'. Hey, you're not sore at me or anything are ya?"

"No Jimmie, I'm not sore. I'm fifty-six. What else you want to know? I used to wear a size eleven shoe, but now I don't even have to buy socks."

I spit a little coffee on my shirt. "Dammit Paulie, you crack me up you're so funny."

"I'm thrilled you're amused by me, Jimmie." Usually when he goes back to writing numbers, I quit bugging him, but one of the humps said something the other day that I can't get out of my head.

"You're older than your brother, right?"

"Jesus Mary Christopher, twenty questions better be over soon. Yes Jimmie, Donato's thirty-eight and I'm fifty-six."

"And Mr. Dibonaventura gave the company to Donnie instead of you right?"

The vein where his hair probably used to start pumped. Paulie threw his pencil down on the table. I didn't know if maybe I should run away, the way he looked at me. Sometimes though he gets going pretty fast on those wheels. He scrunched up his eyebrows again.

"Somebody put you up to something, Jimmie? One of those fellas playing some kind of joke on you?"

"No Paulie, no. Hey c'mon don't get sore at me. I was just wonderin'. I mean, Finnegan was saying the other day how-"

"Just what did that lazy mick have to say about ME?" The vein pumped again. I didn't want Finnegan getting in trouble because I couldn't keep my big mouth shut, like my Ma's always telling me, but I didn't want to walk out on Paulie either.

"Hey c'mon Paulie, it ain't like that. Finnegan was just sayin' how it's too bad that you're so smart, and how he'll bust ass if you ask him to, but that he wouldn't do nothin' for Donnie on account of all he does is play golf and chase tail all day while you're doing all the work around this place. He says it's a shame that your old man gave the company to Donnie just because he was ashamed you got your legs blowed off over in Vietnam."

Paulie was sweating real bad. He let out a big breath, and he looked sleepy. "Why don't you get back to work, Jimmie." He wheeled away from me over to the pencil sharpener. I snuck another donut into my pocket on the way to the door.

"You're not sore at me are ya, Paulie? I don't know when to keep my mouth shut sometimes. That's what my Ma tells me."

"I'm not sore Jimmie. Just get back to work alright?"

"Okay Paulie. Anything you say. You're the boss, right Paulie? Anything you say."

"Anything I say Jimmie. I'm the boss." He cranked at that pencil sharpener like some kind of prize was going to shoot out.

Paulie never even told me once that he had a gun. He must have been pretty sore to blow his head off like that. Some of the guys took it real hard, crying and everything. They said he left a letter to his old man. I snuck behind a dumpster down at Hannaford's, but I couldn't cry. I tried to, you know, for Paulie, but nothing came out.

I was too busy thinking about telling my Ma that I asked Paulie what was under his blanket. She'd probably blame the whole stinking mess on me. It was just bugging me, you know, what Finnegan said about Paulie. So I asked. It didn't make no difference to me that Donnie played golf and chased tail all day while Paulie worked down with us on the stinkin' dock. I thought Paulie was a happy guy. Boy, he sure was funny.

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