I knocked on the door and I heard the same dog bark and the same male voice yelling at the dog that I had heard the first time I went down to Pulaski Street.
The dismal future answered the door.
“Hi, mister. You again? What the hell you want?”
“Same as last time. I need to talk with your mother. Is she here, or is she at work?” The filthy, foul mouthed tyke looked back into the room. I could hear his mother yelling at someone and another female voice yelling back. I recognized both of them – the Sisters Tumulski. They were going at it about money.
“That’s all they fight about, Mister. I still haven’t had lunch,” he sighed. I’ll get a beer when they’re done.”