by Ted Clifton
Giovanni’s unhappiness seemed to actually darken his skin. This was a very unpleasant person.
“Let’s cut through the bullshit—you know and I know, I could just take the business and you would get nothing. Or, maybe you would get less than nothing.” Giovanni’s voice was rising along with a slight flush to his face. “So let’s not pretend there’s a decision to make here—you’ll sell me your contacts and operations or things will get real ugly for you.”
Pat had a quick decision to make. He could say yes and probably be dead within a month, or he could say no and still probably be dead within a month—maybe even the next hour. He wanted out of the business, but dealing with Giovanni was literally a dead end—nobody in their right mind would trust the man. He had to try to prevent Giovanni from taking any immediate action while he figured out what other options he might have—one hell of a mess.
“John, let me cut through the bullshit, as you put it. My business runs smoothly because of the connections I have and the things I do to make it work without a hitch. You can take over the business, shoot me, or whatever you and your goons do—but you wouldn’t have a business left. You’d have lost the wholesale business on what you sell to me—which I would think is quite profitable—and you’d have lost the opportunity to take over my business, because if the state thinks you’re moving in they’ll push to legalize booze. They’d rather deal with the Bible-thumpers and sin than deal with the likes of you.”
Giovanni looked more than pissed, and Pat suddenly wondered if he’d gone too far. He was a stupid old bootlegger who had just pissed off a serious hoodlum with two pet thugs—he probably deserved to be shot. But Sally sure the hell didn’t. What was he thinking?
Giovanni gradually began to smile. “Pat, I like a man who has the balls to tell me to my face to go piss up a rope, but no matter what you may think, we’re not negotiating. I’ll take over your business one way or another. I’ll give you a little time to think about this—but know for damn sure this is not over.” The smile was gone. Giovanni got up, picked up Sally’s hand and kissed it, gave Pat a look that could have killed, and walked out with bodyguards trailing.
“My god—what the hell just happened?” Sally seemed more than a little upset.
Pat didn’t have a good answer. But there was no question things were going to change, whether he wanted them to or not. He tried to reassure Sally that this was just a little business misunderstanding and that everything would work out. She gave him one of her do-you-think-I’m-an-idiot looks. She wasn’t an idiot, and he had no idea what was going to happen.
Pat and Sally went to the bar area and had some more drinks. The music softened out the mood, and soon they were dancing to the great music of the Parker band. They tried to forget Giovanni’s implied threat, but it hung over their heads.
Pat didn’t hear anything from Giovanni after their confrontation. His shipments were still moving. It was business as usual, but obviously what happened that night in Trevas Supper Club wasn’t over. Giovanni was a real threat—it was obvious to Pat that the man had no morals and wouldn’t hesitate to harm whoever he had to in order to get his way. He was increasingly alert and concerned that Giovanni’s goons would show up and start blasting.
Months passed. Pat still saw Sally, though a little less frequently. He was concerned that something would happen to her if she were with him at the wrong time. The business continued to run smoothly, keeping him in high demand. Emerson had proven to be very capable of handling the day-to-day operations from Las Cruces. Pat was still dealing with local officials and making contributions to the local economy. Everything seemed normal, but it wasn’t—tension was always in the air. They were waiting on something, they just didn’t know what it was.
Pat had given a lot of thought to what he should do. He’d decided that he wanted out—that was for sure. But he didn’t want to get out by being killed. He didn’t want to get out and still have to deal with Giovanni or corrupt government officials. If he was out, he was out. He still didn’t know how to do that. Procrastination set in. He didn’t have answers, so he just waited.
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
Bugs knew Pat was seeing other women. She didn’t know if it was one or many, but she knew it was happening. She could feel it, smell it, and she hated this side of Pat. She knew, though, that if she confronted Pat their marriage would be over.
Bugs had devoted most of her married life to pleasing her husband. Even as a girl, her only goal in life had been to be a wife. Her devotion to her husband was based on her love for Pat and her religious convictions. Obeying and pleasing your husband was in Bugs’ nature. There had been times when she did this with an abundance of joy. Lately, though, it had felt more like a difficult chore. How do you continue to love a man who seems to want to be with other women rather than you?
Pat had provided a wonderful home and given Bugs the joy of her life, her son. Her child had become her focus. She couldn’t control Pat, but she could make sure that their son wasn’t going to be like his father. Bugs, of course, recognized the conflict she was creating, and because of that she made an effort to praise Pat to Mike, but all the while she was bringing up their son to be a devoted husband to whomever he married. She taught him her Christian values and made sure he understood the consequences of failing to meet these standards.
Bugs didn’t know the details about what Pat did for a living, other than that he was in insurance, but she didn’t believe for a minute that he wasn’t doing other things. She had heard the whispers about him being a bootlegger. She just chose not to confront him about it—if he didn’t want to tell her then she didn’t want to know. Over the years she had never been sure how much of their income had come from insurance or booze. This troubled her, but at some level it was Pat’s concern how he supported his family and she wouldn’t judge him.
The First Baptist Church had become a source of solace for Bugs. It was a big, impressive church not far from her house. She felt a sense of pride when she saw the church of which she was a member. Of course, Pat had nothing to do with it.
As Mike grew and spent more time in school activities, Bugs had increased her volunteer work at the church. It was where she felt the most comfortable. Much of that was because of the minster, Reverend Todd Jenkins. Bugs and Todd had spent hours and hours together working on church projects. As they had become closer, Bugs had shared her concerns about Pat’s activities with women and his bootlegging business. Todd was very sympathetic to Bugs’ difficulties. He had given her special one-on-one counseling sessions to help her understand how this could be part of God’s plan.
After a while, their relationship began taking on a different tone. They would make excuses to be together. Todd wasn’t married, but he had a busy life dealing with the church and its congregation. Even so, he always found a reason to see Bugs. She began spending more and more time at the church. She and Mike often attended evening events, where Bugs acted as the hostess for the event, supporting Todd.
“Bugs, could I see you in my office?”
“Sure Todd.” Todd’s tone alerted her that something wasn’t right. They would often meet in his office to discuss various church matters, but today he made it sound different.
They entered the office and Todd shut the door. There was a small couch on one side of the room and Todd went and sat down.
Bugs wasn’t sure where he expected her to sit and started toward one of the desk chairs.
“No, sit here with me. I need to talk to you about something.”
Bugs changed direction and sat at the opposite end of the couch. She was becoming nervous, sensing that something was troubling Todd.
“Bugs, you know I’m a man of God—but you must know that I’m also a human being, with all of the faults and desires of any other human.”
Bugs was cringing on the inside. She suddenly knew where this was heading.
“For months we’ve been spending more and more time together. I know you love this ch
urch as much as I do—I can see it in the work you do here and in your interactions with the congregation. Bugs, you’ve become more important to me than anything else. I can’t stop thinking about you and your miserable marriage. I love you, Bugs. I know I shouldn’t be saying any of this, but I can’t help it—I want to be with you.”
Oh my goodness, her minister had just said that he loved her, wanted to be with her—what kind of sin was this? Bugs was speechless. She knew this was wrong. She knew she cared greatly for Todd, but not the same as she did for Pat. Why had Todd thought this, what had she done? She began to cry.
“Todd, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe you mean these things. You belong to the church. I’m a married woman. Oh my, I’m so sorry.”
“Bugs please, I know you’re married—but it’s a bad marriage. You should leave your husband and I will be here for you. I know it’s wrong, but I love you.”
Bugs couldn’t handle it and ran out of the room. She found her car and went home. It was early afternoon and no one was there. She knew Mike was still at school and she had no idea where Pat might be. She went upstairs and lay down for a while. She felt all mixed up. The church has been a safe place for her, but it couldn’t be that now. It was so sad. She cried some more. After a while she went downstairs and fixed some tea.
Bugs’ ambitions in life were small. She knew who she was—a wife and a mother—and that was all she wanted to be. She sure did not want to be someone’s lover. It repulsed her. She thought about Pat. She thought about Todd. She knew Pat was ten times more the man she wanted than Todd was. It shamed her that she had let Todd think otherwise. She knew why—she wanted someone to pay attention to her, and maybe she wanted to hurt Pat. The phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Hey Bugs. Just wanted to let you know I expect to be home pretty early tonight—thought maybe you and Mike might like to go out and have a hamburger, what do you say?”
“Sure, that sounds great. Mike’s not home yet, but he never turns down eating out, especially a hamburger.”
“Okay. See you a little later.”
What was that about? Pat almost never took them out to eat, and usually when he did it was a last minute sort of thing because Bugs hadn’t fixed what he wanted. This was preplanned and seemed joyful. While she was being propositioned by her minister of the church, Pat was planning a family outing—so who was the bad person? Sure the hell wasn’t Pat. Bugs started crying again and went upstairs.
Bugs knew she couldn’t go back to the church. It would be too embarrassing. She also wondered if other people had noticed that Todd was attracted to her. She knew what she had to do—she had to devote herself to Pat. She would forgive him everything he had done to hurt her. After all he was just a man, and apparently all men were weak and flawed. She would concentrate on being the best wife and mother anyone could ever be. These thoughts made Bugs feel a little better—she was back in control. She made a special effort to look her best for their evening out.
All of them enjoyed the evening, with Pat seeming to be having a really wonderful time. They went to Johnnie’s Grill and had onion burgers and fries. Mike thought it was the best food he’d ever eaten. Especially the french fries—with a huge amount of ketchup—and the Coca Cola, a treat he was seldom allowed. The whole restaurant smelled of onions and wood smoke. Several people came up and said hello to Pat, but he actually seemed more interested in his family than in these business contacts. Bugs felt more and more guilty.
Pat drove them home in the Cadillac with the top down. The whole evening felt unreal—like something from a storybook. Pat carried Mike into the house and up to his room. He came back down and gave Bugs a kiss on the cheek and said he had some office work to finish.
Bugs felt elated. She went upstairs and kissed Mike good night. She went into her room and changed into her most alluring lingerie and got into bed. She fell asleep. When she awoke it was morning and Pat wasn’t in bed—it appeared he hadn’t slept in the bed at all.
Bugs got dressed and went downstairs. Pat was gone. She didn’t know if he had left that morning or the night before. There was a note on the kitchen table.
Bugs Honey,
Sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye. Forgot to mention I had a business trip to Texas. Be gone a few days. See ya when I get back.
Pat
Bugs wondered if she was going insane.
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma / Las Cruces, New Mexico
It was time for another trip to Las Cruces. Pat debated with himself about Giovanni’s threat and whether the trip put him closer to danger, but decided he had to go. He also decided he really wanted to invite Sally. She’d been a little cooler to him lately, no doubt because of the Giovanni incident, but he still craved her company. The trip to Las Cruces would be a lot more appealing if she were with him. He asked her, and while there was obvious reluctance, she agreed to go.
Pat had given more thought to Sally than to his business. He knew he wanted to have Sally in his life, but also knew it was impossible to continue this double existence. He had to make a decision of some kind about the business and about Sally. He needed to get on with whatever in the hell he was going to do. But he was reluctant—he wanted it all and knew he couldn’t have it.
Pat picked Sally up at her apartment and they had headed to Wiley Post. It looked like a nice day to be flying, the morning bright and sunny as they became airborne. Pat was happy just thinking about flying, so the moment the plane left the ground was always exhilarating to him. While he understood the concept behind flight, it was still very exciting for that huge, heavy machine to lift off the ground and climb smoothly into the sky.
The flight was uneventful. Sally napped. Maybe it was a way to avoid conversation. They had discussed the Giovanni mess very little and it seemed to hang over their heads. Pat knew that something would have to happen and that his days with Sally were about over, but he hadn’t voiced any of this to her. He also knew that she was more than likely thinking some of the same things. Their relationship was now different. They had pretended before that they could go on in this playful way without worrying about it ending, but now they knew it would last only a little while longer.
Pat had been trying to think about all of the ramifications of any course he decided to take. He knew a decision couldn’t be avoided. His business had been important to him, and in many ways had defined who he was, but he was ready for that to be over. Add Giovanni’s threats, and he was sure he wanted nothing more to do with this kind of life. But the decision about Sally was harder, and he couldn’t seem to settle on an answer. He knew what was right, but it wasn’t what he wanted.
They chatted during the flight about clouds, about various landmarks they could pick out, and about the remaining time to reach El Paso—but said nothing about what was really on their minds. Once in El Paso, they had a late lunch at the terminal while the plane was being refueled, then quickly lifted off for the short flight to Las Cruces. Emerson was supposed to leave a car at the airstrip with the keys hidden under the seat—not much crime in Las Cruces, so it was probably still there. Sally was relieved that they would have the car waiting so she wouldn’t have to be around Emerson again.
Pat was aware that some weather issues had come up around the Las Cruces and El Paso area, but they were just rain showers so he didn’t anticipate any problems. As he approached Las Cruces, though, the weather thickened. Clouds could be a serious problem in being able to get low enough to get a visual on the airstrip and Pat was getting a little worried. He was a good pilot, but he was still an amateur who made a point not to fly in bad weather conditions. He knew he had plenty of fuel and could head back to El Paso or up to Albuquerque if Las Cruces was socked in.
As they continued to Las Cruces, the clouds became too thick to see anything on the ground. “Looks like we may have to turn around and go back to El Paso—don’t worry we’re not in any danger.” His monotone announcement didn’t seem to settle Sally’s nerves. She was glued to her
seat and her eyes never left the cockpit windows.
Once they reach the area above Las Cruces, there seemed to be a break in the clouds. Pat banked the plane over a large clear circle where he could see the ground below. “Sally, I believe we can spin down through that hole in the clouds and land in Las Cruces. This is going to feel a lot more dangerous to you than it is. I practiced just this type of maneuver when I was in flight school. Are you okay with that?” The answer in her expression was no, but she said she was—as she gripped the armrests with all of her strength.
The break in the clouds looked like it was closing. If Pat was going to do this, it would have to be now.
“Sally, you’re sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yes, damn it—do it, I’m ready.”
She sounded tense, but Pat thought it was the right decision so he began his maneuver.
Many planes are equipped with alarms to warn pilots if they’re about to stall or if their descent or ascent is too steep. Pat’s plane had those alarms, but he’d forgotten about them and hadn’t told Sally about any sort of alarm. As he was starting the spiral maneuver to spin down into the hole in the clouds, the descent alarm went off. It was loud—very loud and very disconcerting, as it was designed to be—and suddenly, along with the alarm, came the sound of Sally screaming. She had been doing just fine until the alarm started and then—sort of like a dog howling at a fire truck siren—she had begun shrieking in a strange accompaniment to the plane’s alarm. Pat concentrated very hard on the task at hand, but the combination of the alarm and Sally’s screaming unnerved him, and for reasons he would never be able to fully explain, he started singing his high school fight song.
Alarm, alarm, alarm.
Scream, scream, scream.
“Go team go. Fight team fight.”
The spin through the clouds to the tune of this unholy clamor lasted only a few minutes, but it seemed like hours. As the ground began to come up at them, Pat backed off the spiral. They were closer to the ground than Pat wanted, but he still had room to level the plane and line up the airstrip, which was off in the distance about a mile. Once the plane was leveled and lined up, he let out a deep breath. “Son of a bitch—are you okay Sally?”