by Tony Farraj
“You son of a bitch! You hustled me!”
“You got your ass kicked, now pay up!” Anthony stuck out his hand.
“Fuck you, I ain’t paying a dime!”
“I beat you fair and square! Besides, you’re the one that wanted to play!” Anthony could feel his hands tighten around the cue stick.
“Fuck you kid, I told you; I ain’t paying!” The guy tried to walk away.
Anthony slammed the cue stick against the pool table. “I swear on my mother’s grave, I’ll crack this pool stick over your fucken head!”
The two guys stopped and turned back toward Anthony. “You think you’re man enough to do it, bring it on!”
When Mr. Mazellie and Mr. Sabbetini heard the yelling, they made their way to the front of the club.
“Frankie, what the hell is going on up here?” Mr. Sabbetini asked.
“Your boy wanted to play pool for money and now he’s crying because I beat him!” Anthony said, still clutching the pool stick in hand.
“Look boss, I ain’t paying this prick a dime! He hustled me!” Frankie, who stood around six foot five and was build like a construction worker. He had large powerful hands and forearms. His hair was combed back and shined like fine black silk, now sounded like a little boy who was about to cry.
For a short moment there was complete silence. Suddenly, Mr. Sabbetini began to laugh, which made Mr. Mazellie laugh. That started a domino effect. Andy, Mr. Sabbetini’s other henchman began laughing. Everyone was laughing, except Frankie. He just stood there with anger raging within him. Anger, he directed right at Anthony.
“Listen Frankie, just pay the kid and go get the car.” Mr. Sabbetini said.
Frankie threw the cash on the table and walked toward the front door.
“Victor told me you had balls, but I didn’t believe him. How would you like to come and work for me?”
“My loyalty is to Mr. Mazellie.” Anthony said proudly, as he scooped up his winnings.
“Kid, we’re all on the same team. What if I work out the details with Victor, then would you consider my proposal?” Mr. Sabbetini asked.
“If Mr. Mazellie says it’s alright with him, then you and I can talk.” Anthony replied.
The summer days began to wind down and Anthony never mentioned the little talk he and Mr. Sabbetini had. He continued to work at the club and hang around Sonny and Chris. He figured the time wasn’t right. Then one day Mr. Mazellie called him over to his booth.
“You wanted to see me?” Anthony asked, somewhat nervous.
“Carlo and I had a talk about you, we both feel that you’re ready to move up. We want you to be more involved in a different aspect of the organization. You have proven your loyalty and your trust. We can trust you, right?”
Anthony didn’t want to interrupt Mr. Mazellie, so he just nodded his head in agreement.
“Good. We think you could work here in the morning and afternoon, and then you could go and see Carlo in the evening. You think you can handle that?” Mr. Mazellie asked as he leaned back in his booth and waited for Anthony’s reply.
“Mr. Mazellie, I’m ready to make you proud. I promise, I won’t let you down.” Anthony said confidently.
“Good, let me call Carlo and tell him you’re on your way over.” Mr. Mazellie called Carlo to give him the news. When he finished, he turned back to Anthony. “Carlo is expecting you, his café is just around the corner and a block or so over.”
Anthony shook hands with Mr. Mazellie and headed out the door. As he was leaving Michael was coming in. They both nearly ran into each other.
“Watch where you’re going ass hole!” Michael was still bitter about the beating he had received from Anthony. A small cut above his left eye, would always be a constant reminder.
Anthony ignored him, and continued toward Carlo’s café. He made the trip no time flat. The café had a European atmosphere. There where several tables outside. Each table had it’s own umbrella with the name of the café imprinted on the side. A black railing surrounded the patio area, about waist high. Anthony stepped inside. The tables inside where all decorated with white table clothes and a bottle of wine centered in the middle. The interior was dark. The light mainly came from a large chandelier that hung in the middle of the restaurant. To the left of the two solid oak doors, was a wall of famous people that had either eaten at the café or known Mr. Sabbetini. As Anthony made his way to Mr. Sabbetini’s office, Andrew, Mr. Sabbetini’s personal chief and consigliere greeted Anthony.
“Mr. Sabbetini is expecting you. If you would follow me, please.” Andrew led Anthony upstairs and to Mr. Sabbetini’s office door. The door was completely polished metal, with a small opening. Anthony knocked on the solid metal door.
“Come right in, Anthony.” Carlo said with a pleasant tone from the other side.
Anthony opened the door and walked into the office. Mr. Sabbetini was sitting behind his desk with a large cigar burning in the ashtray. The office was completely covered with more pictures of old friends, associates and famous celebrities. “How did you know it was me?”
“I can see everyone that comes into my café.” Mr. Sabbetini pointed to a large two-way mirror on the opposite side of the office wall.
Anthony walked to the mirror and looked out. “I came to tell you that, I’d be happy to come and work for you.”
“Good, Victor and I have great plans for you. I believe you will do a great job. I only have one rule; No matter what happens, you come to me first. Let me take care of any problems that arise. You treat me with respect and I’ll do the same, but if you screw with me, I’ll nail your balls to the wall. We understand each other?” Mr. Sabbetini looked straight into Anthony’s eyes.
Anthony didn’t feel as intimidated as he was, when he first met Mr. Mazellie. “I’ll never do anything to show you disrespect, that you can count on.”
“Good, now that we have that out of the way, are you hungry? Would you like to join me for dinner? I hear the food here is pretty good, if I do say so myself.” Mr. Sabbetini smiled. “Andrew, fix Anthony and I a plate of your famous paste and clams. Also, would you have Frankie come in here and see me? ”
Minutes later, there was a small knock on the door. Frankie stepped inside and glared at Anthony. He wasn’t happy to see him sitting with his boss. “You wanted to see me?”
“Frankie, I just wanted you to know that Anthony is going to be working around here. I know you both started off on the wrong foot, but you need to find a way to work out your differences.”
Unfortunately, all Frankie wanted was a way to remove the smile off Anthony’s face.
“Frankie, I never meant you any disrespect. I’d like to start over.” Anthony extended his hand in friendship. He knew that one day, he might need Frankie as a partner. They both shook hands, while Frankie took a drag from his cigarette.
“Excuse me sir, but lunch is ready.” Andrew wheeled in a large covered tray. “Would you care for a bottle of wine?”
“That sounds perfect.” Mr. Sabbetini lifted the top off the polished silver tray. A strong smell of sautéed garlic and steamed clams filled the air. Anthony and Mr. Sabbetini sat down and enjoyed their dinner. The pasta was perfect and the clams where just as good as his mothers. Anthony wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but out of respect for Mr. Sabbetini, he had one glass.
After dinner, Mr. Sabbetini lit a cigar and propped his feet on top of the desk. “Anthony how was dinner? Would you care for anything else?”
“No thank you.” Anthony said. “I hate to bring up business, but you never told me what I’d be doing for you.”
Mr. Sabbetini took a deep drag from his expensive cigar and exhaled smoothly. “It’s no big deal. After we close for the night, which is around ten-thirty, we have a small poker game for some of our more important clients. You’ll basically be here to empty the ashtrays, get them their drinks and cater to their needs.”
Anthony looked puzzled. “Mr. Sabbetini, I don’t mean any disrespect,
but you could’ve gotten anyone do that. Why choose me for the job?”
”Anthony, we’re talking about some important people in this town. I can’t just trust anyone. They don’t want someone like Frankie getting their drinks. You’d be perfect. Besides, they like to throw their money around.” Mr. Sabbetini leaned forward and removed the cigar from his mouth. “The last guy that had this job made two hundred and fifty for one days work”
“That’s pretty good money.” Anthony tried not to smile, but he just couldn’t help it. “I’m curious, what happened to the other guy?”
The expression on Mr. Sabbetini’s face changed slightly. “He got greedy. He started to participate in the weekly game. Before the poor bastard knew, he was in the hole for twenty gees. Then that son of a bitch gets busted with a kilo of coke and he tries to make a deal with the district attorney. We had no choice but to shut him up. Anthony the moral of his story is; don’t rat on your friends, don’t be greedy and the most important thing I could tell you is; keep them happy.”
That night, Anthony had a bizarre dream. He was standing in the middle of the café, inside a cage with money falling all around him. He tried to grab the money, but it was no use. He didn’t have any hands. Furthermore, the words Mr. Sabbetini said to him rang in his ears. “Don’t be greedy.”
The reddish sun began to set. The sharp edges of the harsh day, gave way to the smooth darkness of the evening sky. Anthony made his way to the café. The dream he had last night, still fresh in his memory. He knew what happened to the guy that previously had his job and he wasn’t going to let that happen to him. The last thing he wanted was to make Mr. Sabbetini and Mr. Mazellie angry.
“Come in, Anthony.” Mr. Sabbetini said, before Anthony had a chance to knock. “How you doin?”
“A little nervous.” Anthony replied. He still couldn’t get that dream out of his head.
“Fuggetaboutit, you’ll be fine.” Mr. Sabbetini inhaled deeply and blew out a perfect smoke ring. The circle rose upward toward the ceiling fan and vanished into thin air.
“Anthony, I got something for you.” Mr. Sabbetini had a black suit hanging on the doorframe. “This is for you, I hope it fits.”
Anthony couldn’t wait to try it on. He had a suit at home, but nothing like this. The socks alone cost more than his suit. Anthony slipped on the shirt. It felt like a soft towel against his skin. Everything fit perfectly. He felt like a million dollars, now if he could just see what he looked like. Carlo led Anthony to his private bathroom, where he had a full-length mirror.
“Something doesn’t look right?” Carlo said, as they both stared at the full-length mirror. “I know what it is, it’s that hair of yours. We need to do something with that mop on top of your head.”
Anthony had thick black hair that went everywhere. Carlo stepped back into his bathroom and returned with a bottle of hair gel. He dabbed a little on his hands and ran his fingers through Anthony’s hair, but a dab didn’t do. By the time he got Anthony’s hair to lay flat, Carlo had used up half the bottle.
“Anthony, you have the thickest fucken hair I’ve ever seen.”
“I know. The barber tells me the same thing. Ever time I get my haircut; he has to sharpen his sheers.” Both men began to laugh hysterically.
“Now, before we go in here, I need your word you’ll never tell anyone about what you see in here. Some of downtown’s big shots like to play here. They like to blow off a little steam. Just remember, keep their drinks coming and their ashtrays empty.”
Anthony opened the door and was greeted by a cloud of smoke. The poker room was full. There where doctors, lawyers and some of Houston’s finest, still dressed in uniform. There where six tables in the smoke filled room. The tables where covered with a green felt. A nameplate was in front of each chair, but that didn’t seem to matter, the men knew exactly where to sit. A solid brass sign in front of the dealer read: Minimum bet twenty dollars. Anthony stared at all the patrons in the poker room and felt a bit overwhelmed. He wasn’t sure he could keep all these guys happy, but he wasn’t going to let Carlo down. He quickly worked the room like a pro. He pocketed two clean ashtrays and emptied the full ones in no time flat. The drinks, on the other hand where more of a challenge. The first time he came out of the kitchen with the tray, he spilt all the drinks. But from then on, he had that tray perfectly balanced in such a way that he could spin around without spilling a drop. As the night wore on and the men became intoxicated, Anthony’s pockets began to swell, along with his feet. His hands smelled of smoke from handling the ashtrays and his new suit smelled like the drinks he spilled.
It was close to dawn, the last drink had been poured, and the last cigarette put out and the last hand had been dealt. The men began to file out one by one. Somewhere richer, but most lost their money. Anthony sat down at one of the empty tables and propped his feet up. The muscles in his legs where tight, his body ached with pain and his new suit reeked of smoke and liquor. All in all, it wasn’t a bad night. He didn’t mind the hard work, especially when he reached into his pocket and pulled out all his tips. For eight hours of hard work, Anthony made three hundred and twenty dollars.
“Well, how did you do?” Mr. Sabbetini asked.
“This is a great job!” Anthony said, as he tried to smile. Even his face muscles hurt.
“You did a great job. You deserve every penny you made, but try not to spend it all in one place.” Mr. Sabbetini said, as he puffed on his cigar.
“No sir, I know exactly what I’m going to buy with this money. Something nice for my mom.”
“It’s nice to see that you care about your mom. That makes you alright in my book Anthony.” Mr. Sabbetini said with a warm smile.
Anthony stuffed the wade of cash back into his pocket and headed toward the kitchen. “I guess I’ll start cleaning up.”
“Leave it. I have a cleaning crew that comes in and takes care of this. Come on, I’ll give you a ride home. Let me just make a quick phone call, then we’ll go.”
Anthony was exhilarated he didn’t have to deal with the clean up. If he had to empty another ashtray, he would have thrown up just from the smell. As he sat and waited for Mr.Sabbetini to return, two gentlemen walked in to the poker room and took a look around. They where dressed in blue jeans and sports jackets. They walked up to Anthony and flashed a badge in his face. “Hey kid, it’s late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
Anthony sat there, without saying a word.
“Well, I see Carlo is finally starting to hang out with people on his own level of thinking.” Detective William said sarcastically. A ten-year veteran on the force, he had seen the neighborhood go from a single house dwelling, to a small Italian village, that didn’t care for outsiders, like him.
Anthony finally looked up at the detective closest to him and smiled. “What do you want? The donut shop is around the corner and to the right.”
“Why you little bastard! Who the hell do you think you’re talking too; I’m not one of your scumbag friends!” Detective William raised his hand as if to slap Anthony across the face. When suddenly, out of the doorframe, Frankie stepped forward. His huge frame made the two detectives step back. Frankie stepped forward and placed his hand on Anthony’s shoulder.
“Hello Frankie.” Detective William said sternly. The two men had a history together. Detective William had busted Frankie for aggravated assault two years ago, but Frankie was free due to lack of evidence. It seemed that the guy Frankie beat up changed his mind right before the trial began.
“What do you two ass holes want?” Frankie asked.
“We just dropped by to say hello.”
Frankie supported his weight on Anthony’s shoulder. “Anything you have to say to him goes through me. You could say; I’m like his lawyer.”
“Sure Frankie, but to tell you the truth, we don’t have anything to say to the kid.” Both detectives started for the door.
Anthony let out a sigh of relief. He turned toward Frankie, who still had his eyes on
both men and his hand in his jacket. “Thanks. What the hell was that all about?”
Frankie only relaxed when both detectives where out of the café. “Those two pricks are on Lee Hong’s payroll. They like to come in here and flex their muscle. They think they can move in on Mr. Mazellie and Mr. Sabbetini’s operation. That will never happen.”
Anthony could hear the animosity in Frankie’s voice. “Why does Mr. Sabbetini put up with them?”
“Look Anthony, fuggettaboutit. One day Mr. Sabbetini will sit you down and tell you the whole story, but for now, I got strict orders to take you home.” Frankie lifted Anthony out of the chair and gave him a slight push toward the door. Frankie’s anger towards Anthony seemed like it was now just water under a bridge.
When, Anthony got home, he quietly opened the door to his apartment and found his mom sleeping on the sofa. She often tried to wait for her son to come home, but the long hours made it hard for her to stay awake. Anthony covered her frail body and walked to his room. He put all the money he earned in an envelope and wrote: Go and buy something nice for yourself, Love you.
The following morning, Anthony awoke with a gentle kiss from his mother. He loved to see her smile. She had a smile that would light up a room. It made him feel good to know that for once she was happy with what he had done. “I see you found the envelope. Go and get you something nice, you deserve it!” Anthony got dressed and made his way out the door. As he made his way down the steps, the two detectives he encountered at the café, where waiting for him. “What do you two want?” This time Anthony wasn’t intimidated.
Detective William noticed a slight adjustment in Anthony’s tone. He didn’t care for the way Anthony spoke to him and his long time partner. “We have a few more questions to ask you.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” Anthony tried to push pass them.
“How do you know? We haven’t asked you anything smart ass.” Detective William pushed Anthony back into the staircase. He was beginning to get impatient with Anthony. “Look you little prick, just answer my question and I won’t have to bust you in the mouth.”