Arsenal

by S. W. Frank

  The screen on the multipurpose watch authorized clearance and he returned her badge, which she swiped to unlock the door.

  Tomasso found her ass among one of her many lovely attributes. He commented. “Duci!” 

  She looked over her shoulder to ask his name. “Comu ti chiami?”

  “Mi chiamu Tomasso.”

  She looked him up and down. “You are very young for security.”

  “I am older than you,” he stated. She was twenty-three. He was twenty-six.

  “Humph, I will speak to my cousin.” She stated in Sicilianu.

  “Why must you speak to your cousin? Will you ask his permission to allow me to take you out?” He laughed.

  “I will tell him you are easily distracted.”

  “And you think this scares me.”

  “Che palle! I hope you maintain that bravado. I hear Nicolo is very frightening to a coward,” she retort and let the door close in his face.

  Tomasso stiffened.

  The elevator pinged open.

  He snapped to attention at the sight of Nico Serano, gripping a rolling IV pole and a wiry Silvio clutching a small toolbox.

  “Salutamu,” Tomasso said in greeting.

  Nico stopped at the door, peered in the window at the patient and then asked in Sicilianu, “How’s it going?” 

  “Sí –bonu!”

  The nurse emerged. Nico smiled at the sight of yet another relative. Viola was a distant cousin on his adopted mother’s side. His Aunt Sophie handpicked the staff and Nico did background checks on everybody. He hacked into law enforcement databases, into bookie’s logs, bank accounts and the whole nine to ensure they weren’t deeply indebted or in somebody’s back pocket.

  “Nicolo, comu stai?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  Nico gestured for Silvio to enter the room before kissing the top of her head. “Bonu! I did not know you began today.”

  She looked up. “Sí and I planned to visit. Mama sent pignolata and arancine for you and Don Alfonzo.”

  “I’m in need of it, go bring it to me –ora!” He chided.

  “Comandare a bacchetta!”

  “If I stop bossing people around, they will do nothing bambina.”

  “I am not a bambina.”

  “You will always be that to me.”

  She smiled with a slightly crooked tooth that he found beautiful in the era of veneers.

  Viola glanced at an anxious Tomasso and smiled wickedly. “Tomasso is very young.”

  Tomasso…she knew his first name, Nico noted.

  Giuseppe had hired Tomasso. However, a midlevel Protezione was responsible for training the entire security force. Nico disagreed with Giuseppe’s lackadaisical approach to hiring riffraff that did not take their job seriously. Nico scoffed, considering the Mafiosi indoctrination incorporated by the modern famiglia.  An inductee pricks a finger, drops blood on a card with a symbol of a saint, which is set afire and then passed around by members as the inductee takes an oath is supposed to ensure loyalty.

  Too many outsiders were aware of the Mafiosi so-called secret initiation. None, but a select few had privy to the Circle of Protector’s ancient rights. The living would never share the nature of such a ritual and the elite Protezione of Giacanti weren’t amateurs off the street.

  He planned to address Giuseppe’s security detail with the snot the minute he cornered him. Until then he turned his attention on the guard.

  His smile faded. “Viola. I must speak with Tomasso.”

  Tomasso gulped saliva and his Adam’s apple bulged and rolled as if he swallowed miniature marbles.

  Viola took pity on the novice. “I only asked Cuscinu because he looks green. However, he has done nothing wrong.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Sí.”

  Silvio entered the corridor and Nico flashed Tomasso a warning glance before departing.  

  Viola winked at the frightened guard before scurrying to the employee lounge to retrieve the food for her cousin Nico.

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  4

   

   

   

   

   

   

  Apparently, rounds occur on a rooster’s schedule. Instead, of the loud cock-a-doodle-doo, there is conversation.

  “How are you today Signore Cuvato?” The Doctor inquired with his head in the medical chart.

  “Kala efharisto.”

  “I’m sorry, I do not speak Greek.” The Doctor reminded him.

  Lorenzo had forgotten he was no longer in Greece and inadvertently lapsed into his native language.

  He spoke in English. “I am well. When may I leave?”

  “You had an infection. If the test results show it has cleared, tomorrow you will be discharged.”

  “I prefer to leave now. I am not a patient -patient.”

  The doctor smiled at the wordplay. “I am not a doctor that doctors documents. I prefer to keep patients alive.”

  Then the doctor exited, a nurse took Lorenzo’s vitals and then he’d eaten a low calorie gourmet breakfast when Sergio dropped in for an early morning visit.

  “Hey cuz, how you doing?” Sergio asked.

  Lorenzo smiled, watching the young man in fresh attire entering with two cups of cappuccino and a pastry bag tucked under his arm.

  “You have read my mind Sergio.”

  “Hospital food is shit.”

  Lorenzo disagreed. “It is good here.”

  “Okay, guess I’ll eat these bad boys by myself,” he said, before placing the cup holder on Lorenzo’s tray and reaching inside the bag to withdraw a scrumptious baguette with powdered sugar.

  Lorenzo relieved Sergio of the bread. “Not that good.”

  Sergio laughed. “I figured that.” He then took out another pastry and walked to a chair, taking several bites on the way. By the time he sat, the delicacy had vanished. “So, are you sticking around or what?”

  “I am appreciative of my new family, however I cannot stay.”

  “Well, Greece isn’t far. I’ll be hitting you up from time to time.”

  Lorenzo’s gray eyes twinkled. “I look forward to that Sergio.”

  Sergio smirked. The badass dude had such a cool vibe, sort of a laid back attitude. “We’ll hang out, hit the clubs in Greece, you know?”

  “How will Lucia feel about that? By the way how is your brave wife?” Lorenzo asked before opening wide and sticking the last morsel inside his mouth.

  He grinned while chewing, relaxed by Sergio’s good-natured countenance.

  “She’s doing better. Don’t worry; she won’t mind her hubby hanging with his cuz.”

  Lorenzo checked his bandage as Sergio continued talking.

  “I’m taking my family to a secluded getaway for a bit. I think somewhere tropical, might speed her recovery.”

  “I agree.” Lorenzo ran fingers through his hair. “I believe she will enjoy relaxation.”

  Sergio rose. “Well gotta go cuz. I’m going to say hi to my pops, but you can hit me up anytime you want, alright?”

  Lorenzo nodded. “I will do that, andio Sergio.”

  “Andio?” Sergio halted with his hand on the doorknob. “What does that mean?”

  “Bye in Greek.”

  “Oh. Cool. Andio to you too.”

  Sergio chuckled as he strolled out the door.

  Lorenzo reached for his cell, holding on to the device, indecisive about waking Chocolate. She happened to be a late sleeper like Thalia.

  He decided to let her rise when ready. However,
he could use the female company.

  The small screen lit up, he grinned as he answered. “There must be a camera in my room and a probe in my mind that knew I wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Wow. Good morning!” Chocolate greeted cheerfully.

  “I would welcome ice cream and you to keep me company.”

  “You’re really bored, aren’t you?”

  “Hell yes.” He got out of bed and scratched his ass. “Have you had sex in a hospital?”

  “No.”

  “Neither have I. Let us share a first.

   

   

  5

   

   

   

   

   

  When people visit someone in a damn hospital, they should be considerate of the other patient in the room.  However, Nico’s bunch disregarded courtesy and their noise startled Alfonzo from a drug-induced sleep.

  The sound was similar to shrill chirps, cutting through his dreams.

  I’m in hell, Alfonzo griped as he stared at the ceiling. Albizu Campos entered Alfonzo’s mind. The noise was forced radiation. The hospital served as the prison and the Serano’s were his torturers.

  “Dad, I don’t know. With everything that’s happened, starting school this coming fall might be too soon for me.”

  “You’re going Darren, no argument!” Nico told his son. The twins stood at the side of their father’s bed. Ari sat at the foot, following the nurse’s every action, hoping the woman gave the right dosages of meds and didn’t damage her husband or she’d sue. The lawyer, portion of her brain went there, and the wife side wanted her good-looking man home between her legs.

  Nico behaved as if the nurse didn’t exist. He had his legs cocked open and an arm casually draped on the railing as she checked the IV site and the bandages on his torso.

  Yes bitch they’re mine, Ari thought when she saw the nurse’s sly smile at Nico and then her boys before she took her ass to the other side of the curtain to ogle the next patient.

  Nico settled the issue of the university. “You need to get away and this might be good for you.”

  “I have the summer to decide.”

  “No son, sitting around trying to talk yourself out of going is all you’ll do. As soon as I’m out of here, you boys are being loaded on the plane to the states.”

  “I agree with your father,” Ari said. “You guys were looking forward to this. Freshman orientation is in August, Aaron has to check into the dorm by late July and you should start settling in to where you’ll be living, too.”

  Ari checked her watch. She had deposited the little ones with Sophie because Selange had an early medical appointment.

  Selange had ridden along with her children to school first and that was before Ari had eaten her breakfast, that’s how early she’d gone.

  The Diaz kids had a few more days before their summer break and since Anita accompanied Selange; Ari had little choice but to ask Sophie to care for the tikes in order to visit Nico without cries for her attention.

  She truly believed Anita dipped out on purpose to avoid helping her with the babies, but she shrugged, the cranky woman wasn’t worth a headache.

  “As long as you return by noon. I must go to the hospital to escort Amelda home with the baby today,” Sophie had stressed.

  Ari promised she would.

  Amelda alone is a handful, everybody in the family considers her the epitome of a Prima Donna.

  Darren suddenly decided to assert his parental rights. “But I’m taking my daughter if I go dad, I just want you to know she won’t be here. Nana said she’d babysit while I’m in school. I don’t want you and mom raising my daughter. I had her and I’ll take care of her.”

  Ari didn’t protest. With the boys and her granddaughter out of the house –well when she found a new home –she wouldn’t feel overwhelmed.  Alexandros cried, too damn much. Yeah, she promised to be a good mom and blah –blah –blah but she was over forty and although she looked thirty, she was tired as hell.

  “We can hire a nanny. That way my parents won’t be overtaxed, right Nico?” Ari suggested.

  Nico exhaled like a bull. “Darren,” he began, but then fell silent. His son had become a man. He wanted to tell him, leave the baby with your mom and me; however, he could understand why Darren wouldn’t feel comfortable with that idea. Anna died on his watch and Semira might have, too.

  “Well, I’m pumped to attend college. This family is nuts and I can’t wait to sit next to a smart American honey.” Aaron stated as he picked his nose and then flicked the boogie.

  Ari slapped his arm. “Cut that shit out. Where are your manners? Go wash your hands!” Then she shook her head because she used the arm recently set free from a cast and experienced a twinge of pain. “Knock a girl up and I swear I’m beating your ass!”

  Aaron twisted his face. “Mom, you’re violent.”

  “You’ll see violent if you don’t wash your hands!”

  Nico pointed to the washroom. “Wash your hands –ora.”

  Aaron trudged away, six feet of youthful muscle in cotton and denim, and size eleven sneakers.

  Alfonzo heard their personal business and he swore he was busting out as soon as he could. He was feeling better. The meds were working. His chest wasn’t hurting and that lightheaded sensation had dissipated. He had an appearance tomorrow at a funeral and he wasn’t missing it because he couldn’t get off his ass.

  “Hey Uncle Al!” Aaron greeted on his way to the bathroom.

  “What’s up?” He acknowledged as the muscular teen passed. He hoped Nico’s sons stayed out of trouble in America. They were prone to pulling pranks, and with their size and muscular frames, they might encounter overzealous police that didn’t think of them as teens. Alfonzo shut his eyes at the sound of running water and tried to ignore the Serano family a few feet away discussing kids, college and everything under the sun.

  “By the way Nico, how long are we going to stay at Al’s? No offense Al, but with all your kids and mine, it’s a madhouse!”

  “Nah, none taken,” Alfonzo mumbled, thinking she had a lot of nerve to complain.

  Then Ari had the audacity to peer around the curtain. “By the way, am I still on your hit list?”

  Nico chuckled.

  Aaron exited the bathroom. Alfonzo sniffed, the damn kid farted. Geez, he wished they’d leave. He found nothing funny about rude kids or Ari’s boldness. He liked Ari; he just didn’t like the crap she pulled with Selange. “Chica if you were on my hit list you’d be checked off already.”

  “So, that means we’re cool?”

  “People I’m not cool with don’t enter my house, tu sabe?”

  “I’m only checking because you’re so damn moody, I’m serious.” She grinned affectionately. “You look a mess.”

  Alfonzo’s eyebrow elevated. “How’s the arm?”

  “It’s healing –but since you ask, I could use a favor, you know to help continue the mental healing process.”

  Oh, shit. Ari’s pushing her luck, Alfonzo opined. “Yeah –a favor mami. I have to hear it first.”

  “Since we’re cool, please give Nico some time off.”

  Nico interjected. “There isn’t time off in my position.”

  “I thought I’d try.” She smiled at Alfonzo. “Thanks for letting us stay at your house; we’ll be out as soon as we find a suitable home.” She waved fingers. “Get well.”

  She released the curtain and Alfonzo scoffed. Ah man, Nico, you have your hands full with that one. I might have to find you all a damn house, Alfonzo deliberated.

   

   

   

   

   

  6

   

   

   

   

   

   

  “Feeling better?”

  Lorenzo rubbed the sleep from his face with
his palms.

  He had fallen asleep waiting for Chocolate’s arrival.

  It was late afternoon, hadn’t they spoken earlier that morning? He asked himself.

  The slanted eyes on his face held genuine concern for his health. He wondered what had taken her so long. Certainly hours aren’t needed to dress. She must not have worn heels, because she looked shorter. In a graphic T-shirt and tight jeans, she resembled a fresh-faced college student. Nobody would guess that she sold her flesh.

  “Kala efharisto,” he answered in Greek and then remembered he spoke to an American. “I am better, thank you.”

  He massaged his temple, feeling hung-over in the afternoon, except he hadn’t drank or had a hit in a day –maybe two –shit he didn’t remember.

  “I brought you ice cream,” she said, and lifted a bag for him to see the colorful logo.

  Lorenzo wanted to laugh. When he was eleven, he had a tonsillectomy. His mama stood over his bed with a cup of ice cream and a similarly cheerful tone.

  “Efharisto –thank you.”

  “You don’t need to keep doing that?”

  “Ay, katalaveno.”

  “Constantly translating. I think I’m smart enough to figure out efharisto means thank you and katalaveno means since you say it a lot. And if I don’t understand, I’ll ask you!” She removed the plastic container and spoon from the bag to sit on the nightstand.

  Lorenzo’s mouth stretched downward. He hadn’t meant to imply she wasn’t smart. Contrarily, she was extremely bright.

  “Do you want the ice cream or not?” she asked, glaring at him with a tinge of annoyance, although he had no idea what he’d done wrong since opening his eyes to her loveliness.

  “Um, yes.”

  “Good.”

  He reached for the cup and spoon, curious about the nature of her agitation. “Is everything fine at the hotel?”

  She took a seat on the wide recliner adjacent to the bed. “Yes.”

  He opened the lid, and quickly closed it. He placed the container at the far edge of the stand.

  “What? You don’t like strawberry?” Chocolate inquired.

  He pursed his lips at the minor tingle that began simply from contact with the fruit. Had he ingested a drop, well, anaphylaxis is rather frightening to an observer.