Awakening the Mobster

by Rachiele, Amy

  “What’ll it be?” Carlo asks, shuffling the cards with his long dark fingers. We sit opposite each other with the coffee table between us.

  “Whatever you want?” I say.

  “Do you know how to play poker?” he asks, defying gravity by flipping the cards around in the air, so that they look like a waterfall.

  “No.”

  “How about blackjack?”

  “Yeah, that’s twenty-one right?”

  “Sure is,” he says giving me a wink. He deals the cards. “I’ve never seen anyone with Tonio before. You must be really special.” I blush at his words.

  “Tonio is known as a loner in a lot of ways. He is very loyal,” he continues. “Are you gonna stay or do you want a hit?” I bend my cards so I can read the face down one.

  My cards total fifteen, so I say, “Hit me.”

  Carlo throws down a five for me and a three for him. I now have twenty. “Stay,” I say.

  Carlo flips out another card for himself. An eight. He shakes his head. “Flip um.”

  Carlo is over twenty-one. He swipes the cards off the table and deals again.

  “So, you and Antonio used to be close?” I ask, checking out my cards.

  “I used to hang out with these guys when I lived in Palmetto. My pop acquired an interest in a casino in Chicago, so we moved here.”

  He emphasized the word acquired. I notice that many times Antonio and his friends, and even his father, use formal words that allude to whatever they’re talking about as unlawful.

  I win another hand, and Carlo scoops up the cards and deals a third time.

  “How did you meet him?” Carlo asks.

  “We go to high school together. I live in Palmetto.”

  “Figures Antonio would be taken with the only medigan in Palmetto.” He shakes his head and checks his cards. Vito’s light snoring gets louder. I look over my shoulder and check on my sister. She is still out, sleeping soundly. I want to protest that I’m not the only one. My friend Raven isn’t Italian, but my phone rings. It’s Antonio.

  “Hi,” I say relieved.

  “How are things going there, honey? How’s Erin?”

  “Still sleeping,” I say.

  “Is that normal?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I asked the nurse. She said that they don’t know when she’ll wake.”

  “And Vito?” Antonio asks.

  “Snoring...” I roll my eyes at Carlo and glance over at Vito. “...loudly,” I finish. Carlo laughs.

  “Let me talk to Carlo,” Antonio says.

  I can’t hear what is being said, but Carlo answers with yes. He listens for a minute, then says bye. He hands the phone back to me.

  “Antonio?” I say, making sure he is still on the line.

  “Yeah. Try to get some sleep. Don’t let Carlo keep you up playing cards. He’s addicted to it, and he sucks at it,” Antonio says chuckling.

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “Love you too. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

  “Bye.” And I end the call.

  Chapter 15

  Mamaluke (mama-luk): something foolish

  Antonio:

  I hated leaving them. Megan’s sister and Vito both hurt. But I had to. I hope I can trust Carlo and his guy Adolfo. I haven’t seen him in years. Time changes people.

  I picked up Troy after I left the suite where I filled up the luggage, packed up the kitchen, and moved it to the car. I would have picked up Troy first to make him help me, but I wasn’t sure what I would find. No point in putting him in harm’s way if I didn’t have to.

  “What the hell?” Troy exclaims looking at his friend’s car.

  “There was a hail storm.” Troy walks around the car in disbelief.

  “Hail?! Was the hail on fire? Holy Shit!” he shouts.

  “Don’t worry. I’m buying this guy a new car. It’ll be here on Tuesday.”

  “What did ya do to my car? There is a huge dent in the front,” he asks incredulously.

  “I’ll get it fixed for you.”

  Troy stands there, shaking his head. “I just talked to Megan. She wouldn’t tell me where she is. She sounds scared.”

  I wish I didn’t hear that shit. I don’t like her being scared. Not that it’s not warranted, I just don’t like it.

  We transfer all our stuff to Troy’s car and return the borrowed car to a very stunned freshman. I tell him his new car will be here on Tuesday, a brand new Ford Taurus. I got the kid’s cell phone number to make sure he gets it.

  Troy drove me in his recently dented car to Hertz. I rent another SUV, a Suburban.

  After Troy leaves me, I get a call from Patrick.

  “Hello,” I say.

  “I’m at the airport. Pick me up,” he says and hangs up.

  Okay... Surprise visit from the Cleaner, great!

  I drive to the airport where we started this journey and grab a smoke outside the automatic doors before making my way to the arrival gates. Airport security is flanking both sides of the area. I’m careful not to walk too close to any metal detectors. My gun is secured in the waistband of my jeans.

  Passengers flock to their loved ones and baggage claims. Everyone seems to be in a hurry. Patrick saunters with the crowd, keeping pace but not appearing to be rushing. He is just naturally fast. He is carrying a large duffle bag and a rigid expression.

  “Let’s go,” Patrick says, and I fall into step with him. He doesn’t say anything else until we get outside. I’m going to need some supplies.”

  Supplies are weapons and whatever he needs to chop up people into little pieces to make them disappear.

  Inside the parking garage of the airport, I click the doors to unlock and I walk around to the driver’s side.

  Thoomp, thoomp!

  Something stings my leg. I automatically reach down to see what it is. A bee is the first thing to come to mind, but it’s a dart. A tranquilizer dart. I yank it out. My body becomes numb and I hit the door of car. I crash to the cement, paralyzed. I hear a thump from the other side of the vehicle and people running. Then, darkness consumes me.

  *****

  Megan:

  We play a couple more hands of blackjack, and I win all of them. Antonio is right. This guy is terrible at cards, which is surprising for someone whose father owns a casino.

  “I’m going to check on my sister, then try to sleep a little,” I inform Carlo.

  “Yeah, it’s getting late. I’m gonna go stretch my legs and get a coffee. You want anything?”

  “No thanks.”

  Nurse Brenda comes in and takes my sister’s blood pressure. I hover over her, watching. She takes a needle from Erin’s arm and sticks it in a red box on the wall marked, used needles. She replaces the needle gently, then shakes a bag of saline. Nurse Brenda hooks up the new bag and tosses the old one away. The door is open, and I can see Adolfo’s frame by the door in the hallway.

  “She was pretty dehydrated when she came in,” the nurse comments, checking Erin’s pulse.

  “Well, she was sick a few days ago and not eating and drinking too much. It was hard to get her to have anything.”

  “Her vitals are good. She just needs rest.” The nurse fiddles with some buttons on a monitor and leaves, closing the door.

  I go to the closet and find an extra blanket and another pillow. I snap the lights off so that there is only a glow from the bathroom. I hunker down in my chair and close my eyes. Ending a night with a kidnapping and rescue, then starting the next day with a car-bomb, makes you bone-achingly tired.

  My body is tired but my mind is racing. Replays and images thrust themselves in my thoughts unwanted. I wonder about Antonio, what he’s doing, if he’s okay. I think about my mom and dad. I want to sort out the hows and the whys, but I can’t. Anxiety won’t let me.

  I flip around in the chair trying to find a comfortable spot. My eyelids are heavy but restless. The door opens quietly, and I see a shadow of Carlo. I can smell his coffee.

  It’s definitely late b
ecause the hallway is much quieter. Earlier, the hallway was bustling with nurses, patients, and visitors. We’ve been here all day, and I just want to sleep. Find that relaxing comfortable state and succumb to it.

  Chapter 16

  Mooshadda (moo-sha-da): someone who is stupid

  Megan:

  I am startled awake and unease creeps its way through my bones. It’s dark in the room. I feel someone behind me, lingering over my chair. I tilt my head up and even in the shadows and dim light, I recognize the guy. It’s Antonio’s Uncle. I am momentarily appeased and ready to say hello, but something is not right.

  A large rope comes around my neck choking me. My heart rate spikes knowing my body is in trouble. I dig my nails into the fiber of the rope desperately. I pull hard and it doesn’t move. My throat crushes in on itself, and I gasp. I frantically search the room for Carlo and Vito. Vito is still on the couch and Carlo is on the floor in a heap, his body twisted. I strain to see the bed. My sister looks exactly the same as before.

  “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble, you little bitch,” Antonio’s uncle hisses quietly to me, putting his lips right up to my ear. The rope is burning my skin. Vito is not far from me. I kick out, trying to get his attention.

  “You won’t wake him, Irish whore,” he says, and yanks harder on the rope. I choke and spit runs down my chin. I try again to pull the rope away, but Uncle Tuttire gathers his hold on it.

  I kick Vito hard in the shoulder, and he moans.

  “I want you to know that I’ve been dreaming about killing you for a long time,” he taunts. “Patrick’s number one daughter — helpless. I wish he was here to see it. But daddy won’t be coming. He’s run into a little bit of trouble, just like you.”He laughs quietly and maniacally. I strike out at Vito again with my foot. I manage to land another solid kick on his shoulder and he rouses.

  “What the fuck?” he grumbles, his eyes still closed. Another figure comes out of the shadows and grabs Vito and hauls him up. “Shit! What’s going on?” he slurs, the pain medication making him slow.

  “Keep him quiet. I have plans for him, too.”

  Stars form in front of my eyes, my strength is weakening. The darkness is getting thicker from the lack of oxygen. Very soon, I’ll be out cold, then dead.

  Quick snapshots of my father subduing our attackers at our house, and Antonio snapping the leg of some guy he was told to beat up, surface. Then an image, one I can only remember from my dreams, hits me. It’s me. I’m on the floor, a wooden floor. I have a gun in my hand, and I fire at shadows.

  Don’t think, just do. I stamp my feet and push my chair over with my jellied legs towards the couch. The thump of the chair is loud. Uncle Tutti loses his hold on the rope, and I tear away from him. I scrabble on my knees to reach under the pillow for Vito’s gun, all the while coughing and gasping. I am grabbed by the waist and hauled up before I can reach it.

  “Oh, no you don’t, bitch.” I am lifted in the air. I kick and let out a raw scream. Uncle Tutti clocks me in the head. It stuns me for a moment, but I recover and shift in his hold. I kick him with all my might. “Son of a bitch!” he yells.

  I catch a glimpse of Vito. He is fighting the other guy. It’s a struggle because he’s not himself. His punches are slow and he’s slurring his curses. It registers who the other guy is that Vito is fighting and it’s Adolfo. Shit! Anger burns and replaces my flight response with fight. That disloyal asshole!

  There is a light knock on the door, and we all stop for a split second. I take that opportunity to backhand Uncle Tutti in the face with my fist. He reels back, but doesn’t let go of me.

  “Is everything okay in here?” The door opens. It’s a new nurse, not Brenda. Adolfo slams the door on her. She yelps from behind it, probably hurt.

  Vito finally manages to tackle Adolfo. He is stunned on the floor and Vito reaches for me. Uncle Tutti is older and can’t fend off Vito and hold me, so I wrench free of his grasp. He and Vito struggle. There are grunts and fuck-yous bouncing off the walls. Vito calls out, “Fuckin’ traitor!” and lands a solid punch to Uncle Tutti’s face.

  I crawl away to the other side of the bed. Erin is motionless. Nothing wakes her. I reach into the red used needle bin and pull out three. I rest them in my fist and crawl back towards Vito. But a foot steps on my hand crushing it to the hard linoleum. I screech and look up. Adolfo is standing over me. I swipe my free arm back, and jam the needles into his leg. My trapped hand is immediately freed and I yank the needles out. He picks me up and shakes me. The weight of my body is insignificant to him as he wields me in the air, cursing me. He is fucking angry. Well, so am I.

  I thrust the needles into the side of his neck. I stab them so hard, they ram right up to the plastic. He hollers and drops me, I don’t let go of the needles. They rip and tear at his flesh. I can feel wetness on my hand — blood. I am back on the floor.

  Adolfo staggers, tripping over a chair, and yanks the door open. Harsh fluorescent light pours in the room. I am momentarily blinded. I spin around and jab Uncle Tutti in the leg with the needles. He yells and kicks me, while defending himself against a medicated Vito. On a good day, Vito could have taken this guy with one hand while the other held an ice cream cone.

  I am sprawled against the wall, spent. I try to shake off the spinning room unsuccessfully. I see Uncle Tutti rush out. I hear people yelling in the hallway, but I can’t get up.

  Chapter 17

  Guinea (gin-nee): a derogatory term for an Italian

  Antonio:

  I wake up to the smell of rotting meat and a massive headache. My arms are heavy. I open my eyes and see a large slab of frozen beef inches from my face. I scan around to find a doorway, and when I do, it’s upside down. It’s upside down, because I am hanging upside down by my feet. They are bare and bound, the rope is secured on a meat hook. It’s cold, and I am stripped down to only my jeans. A few yards away is Patrick, suspended from the ceiling too and unconscious.

  I immediately assess our situation. Clearly, the Chicago underground uses this place like we use the restaurant, and Sommersville uses a Laundromat. We are in one of the hundreds of meat processing plants in Chicago. They wouldn’t deliberately take us here unless they plan on killing us. And since they haven’t yet, I can only assume they plan on making it slow and painful.

  “Aww, look, Pop, he’s awake,” sarcasm and scorn drip from Dino’s words. He limps in through the door, Luigi behind him. They saunter over to me.

  Dino lifts his head up to look at me threateningly and grabs my nipple twisting hard. “Is it cold in here, Delisi?”

  I shove his hand away, and the movement causes me to swing.

  “What?!Seriously?! Is that all you got? You are such a fuckin’ pansy! Always have been, always will be,” I grind out.

  Dino does exactly what I expect him to do. He raises his fist to hit me. I reach for it and grab him before he can land one on me. I use his own force and push. He falls back, crying out in pain, “Fan-gul!” My body swings, and I collide with a side of beef.

  “So, Dino, what hurts more? Vito shooting you in the leg, or my girl hitting you with a car?” I goad as I rock back and forth in the air. His face inflames. He’s mad.

  “The great Antonio Delisi has found a little bit of trouble for himself,” Luigi says spitefully. “I love seeing you up there like a dumb animal caught in a trap.”

  Dino laughs, “I’m so sick of hearin’ his name, Pop. Antonio this and Antonio that.” Dino spits at me. I duck and throw my fist out. It connects with the side of his head. I was going for a full jaw punch, but I’ll take what I can get.

  Dino doesn’t come at me again because Patrick starts to come to. He is waking up. He shakes his head trying to clear it, a confused expression on his face as he looks around.

  A guy comes in and says, “He’s back.” Luigi and Dino don’t say anything, but leave in a hurry.

  Patrick flails and struggles, his burly hands and arms sway.

  “Patrick,” I whis
per. “Patrick,” I say a little louder. He’s dazed but sees me.

  “Shit,” he says, and closes his eyes.

  “Patrick,” I call again.

  “What?” he says, annoyed. Is he aggravated with me? Are you fuckin’ kidding me?

  “You got any ideas?!” I ask.

  “I’m thinking,” he says.

  “Well, think fuckin’ faster. I’m freezing!”

  Our conversation ends because we hear people coming back. They’re talking and coming our way. Dino hobbles in first, then two guys I don’t know, must be Chicago mob, then Luigi. Following behind them all...is Uncle Tutti? Holy Shit! My uncle!

  “Patrick and Antonio, how nice to see you here in Chicago,” my uncle’s voice is callous and severe. I examine my uncle. His face is blotchy, and there are bruises along his cheek.

  My legs are getting very numb. I question whether I’ll be able to stand on them, if I could get down. My hands feel thick and hot because of all the blood that has settled in them from being upside down. My uncle’s betrayal settles in my stomach like rancid hamburger on a hot summer night, maggots and all.

  Uncle Tutti walks over and stands right next to Patrick. “It’s too bad your daughter couldn’t be here.” My head shoots up, and Patrick stills. “She’s a feisty one, I’ll give her that.” He is taunting us. “But she got what was coming to her after all these years.” Patrick’s face darkens. I can tell he’s trying not to take the bait. He wants to ask what he’s talking about and if she’s all right.

  So I take the bait. “What are you talking about?”

  “What a sweet girl she is. Plays the harp. Smart. My brother was smart too.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? You don’t have a brother.”

  “Oh, no, Tonio, I did,” he says to me, walking my way.

  “He was young when he went to live in Ireland. He was sent there to train with the Irish mob.” He pauses then explains. “It’s sort of like an exchange student thing.” He adds pensiveness and mockery to his voice. “It builds alliances and opens up territory. He loved it there and decided to stay.”