Travis: To accompany the Fallen Angel Series - A Mafia Romance

Home > Other > Travis: To accompany the Fallen Angel Series - A Mafia Romance > Page 6
Travis: To accompany the Fallen Angel Series - A Mafia Romance Page 6

by Tracie Podger


  “You need to eat something, and drink this, it will warm you up,” she said as she got close.

  I could smell the hot food and my tummy grumbled in appreciation. Robert stood and made way for her to crouch down next to me. With her help, I shuffled up the step and into a half sitting position. She handed me a pie and a coffee. It was probably one of the best meals we had eaten in a long time. I couldn’t remember the last time I had hot food or drank coffee. In fact, that might have been the very first cup of coffee I ever drank.

  “Will you be here tomorrow?” she asked Robert.

  “Yeah, unless the cops come of course, then we will have to move.”

  Until I was well enough to run, we were hoping we would be left alone. There was no way I could outrun anybody. She smiled as she stood and smoothed down her skirt.

  “What’s your name, lady?” Robert asked her.

  “Evelyn, but you can call me Ev if you like,” she replied.

  Robert introduced himself, told her my name, and with one last smile she turned and walked away.

  “What a nice lady,” I said.

  “Maybe. Maybe she’ll be back with the cops before we know it.”

  The difference between me and Robert was that he trusted no one, but I trusted and believed everyone. That’s one reason we needed each other, I think. We settled down for the night. Robert woke me periodically to take more tablets and water, as instructed by Evelyn. I would rather have gotten a good night’s sleep. The following morning we both looked like shit and Robert was grumpy as hell.

  Our morning was brightened by the sight of Evelyn walking towards us; even Robert gave her a broad smile. She had cartons of milk and salted beef bagels for us. She pulled a bar of chocolate from her bag, and snapping it in half, she handed over one part to me and one to Robert - who shook his head.

  “You don’t want some chocolate?” she said.

  “No, never eaten it before.”

  “You’ve never had chocolate?” she replied, surprised.

  He just shrugged his shoulders while I reached out for his half. There was no point in letting it go to waste. I tried to eat it slowly, to make it last, but I had a sweet tooth and candy wasn’t something I got very often. I savoured every mouthful.

  “How are you feeling, Travis?” she asked.

  “Better, don’t know what was in those tablets but they’re working.”

  “I think you should still rest for today and I’ll pop along later and see how you are doing, okay?”

  “Why are you doing this?” Robert asked.

  She took a moment to answer. “You look like you need me and right now, Robert, it’s nice to be needed.”

  With that, she rose and went about her day. It was late afternoon that I felt well enough to actually get up off the step and was dying for a piss. Robert had rules, we were not allowed to piss near where we slept, so I walked a way down the alley and ducked behind a garbage bin, which served as our makeshift toilet. It wasn’t the most pleasant of places, but we made do - it was all we had.

  As the days wore on I got better. Evelyn came and checked on us frequently and she always brought food. Sometimes it was just a sandwich, sometimes it was pasta, still hot and served in little plastic containers that she would take away when we were finished. She stayed with us for a half hour or so and chatted. We made her laugh; she was beautiful when she laughed, and she reminded me of Aileen. When she threw her head back, her eyes would shine.

  We also started to walk with her to work. She worked in an office, importing stuff from Italy. It was clear she was Italian, with olive skin, dark hair and dark eyes, and it was only when she stood next to Robert that I wondered where he had really come from. He had the same colouring. He’d told me he came from England, but never spoke about his parents; I often wondered if they were Italian too.

  ****

  We had been together on the streets for nearly a year when Robert announced that he thought it was his birthday. We had picked up a discarded newspaper, initially to keep behind the garbage bin for toilet use, but he had seen the date. July 28 was printed across the top left-hand corner.

  “What do you mean, you think it’s your birthday?” I asked.

  “I think my birthday is July 28th,” he said, with that sarcastic tone to his voice.

  “You either know or you don’t.”

  “I seem to remember, back in Pittsburgh I found out my birthday when I was ten. I’m sure it’s July 28th.”

  “You never had a birthday cake or presents?”

  “No. No one ever remembered my birthday.”

  I thought back to the days when Aileen would bake me a cake, and it saddened me that Robert had never experienced that. Having that cake and sharing it with Aileen was always the best day of that year for me. No matter what came before or after I always knew there would be one day a year where I would be happy. I didn’t want Robert to feel sad that he wasn’t sure - or that he had never had cake - so I lied to him for the second time.

  “I don’t remember when my birthday is either, but I know my sister used to bake me a cake every year,” I said.

  We fell silent for a while. A sadness descended on the two of us. I don’t know what saddened him, but I thought about how terrible it must be not to not know your own birthday.

  “What happened to your sister?” Robert asked.

  “She left me here. She said she would come and find me and she didn’t bother. Fuck her, fuck my whole family, I hope they have all died a terrible death.”

  “Don’t say that, Trav. You don’t know why she didn’t come. She might have tried, you never know.”

  “Dan said he would come and find me, but he never did. No one wants us, Rob, and I don’t care anymore. I would spit on them if they found me now.”

  I saw a flash of sadness cross his face. He had no family at all. He’d told me a long time ago that he found it hard that I hated mine with every part of my body. I meant what I’d said - I would spit in her face if she ever found me now. She didn’t care, she lied to me. She probably had no intention of coming to DC, and why would she? She had a house, albeit a violent one, but she had a roof over her head and food in her stomach every day. Why would you leave that?

  “So pick a date,” Robert said.

  I looked at him, not understanding. “Pick a date and that’s your birthday. Today is mine, whether it’s real or not,” he said.

  “I don’t want to. I don’t want to celebrate another birthday. I know how old I am if you know how old you are. We’re the same age, I think.”

  “Okay, we’re both twelve.”

  We did a high five, smiled and went for one of our usual walks around the city. We loved to walk through Columbia Heights. Its mix of old and new, and its Italian and Spanish quarters were fun places to be both during the day and at night. It was also where Evelyn worked. Sometimes we would meet her and walk her home. We never got to her house before she ushered us off. We never questioned why, either. I guess we knew. She wanted to help us; she was kind and she fed us, but having two homeless kids in your house was a whole different ball game. Maybe she didn’t trust us fully then - after all, Robert had tried to steal her purse. Perhaps she thought we would steal from her if we got too close.

  It was also on our twelfth birthday that our lives changed again.

  ****

  It was a hot day and we were both thirsty. We had tried to keep the bottle that Evelyn had brought to refill it whenever we could, but we’d left it behind. Robert did his nod of the head thing as he ducked into a store, one we had hit before. Just after he entered I watched a huge black car pull up next to the sidewalk. A man, flanked by what could only be described as his goons, entered the store. There was nothing I could do to warn Robert other than watch as they collided in the doorway. The man grabbed Robert by the scruff of his neck and hauled him in with him.

  I hopped from foot to foot, eager to know what was happening. I tried to get as close as I could without being seen. The go
ons were blocking the window, but I could just about see Robert. He straightened his T-shirt and held out his hand. I watched the man shake it; he seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I stepped back as he turned and opened the door, holding it for Robert to exit before him. I saw the slight nod of his head and his open palm, and waited until they stopped at a door between two takeout stores. I held back as instructed. I trusted Robert and his decisions, he would make sure it was safe before including me. It seemed that he knew who this guy was, and I wracked my brain to remember where I had seen him before.

  Just before they made their way through the door, Robert looked over to me; the man followed his gaze and beckoned me to join them. We climbed a flight of stairs to some sort of office. It was a mess, the place stank and people lazed around. And then I remembered. Fuck, we were sitting in an office chatting and laughing with the local gangland boss. The guy who seemed so familiar was someone I had seen around the neighbourhood; I’d seen the goons acting as his security, and I’d heard the gossip about him.

  “Nice place you’ve got here,” Robert said. I was kind of hoping Mr. Sarcastic wouldn’t surface, especially not while we were socialising with the Mafia.

  “Say’s he whose office is a doorstep in an alley,” came the reply. I wondered how he knew that.

  “At least I keep it clean and I know where everything is,” Robert replied with a smirk.

  “If you pay us, me and my friend will clean this place up,” he added. I looked sharply at him in surprise.

  I’d never cleaned anything in my life. Well, other than the step and the surrounding sidewalk that Robert insisted we clean that one time. And here he was offering us up for $5. It was genius.

  Robert’s offer was accepted, and as Guiseppi Morietti and some of his henchmen left, - leaving one behind to watch us - we started the big clean.

  “You think you might have got us a different job, you know, maybe as a getaway driver or look-out or something?” I grumbled.

  I held a bucket and mop, unsure of where the tap was, while Robert lugged out broken furniture and moved what was left to one side. After his usual sigh, he grabbed the bucket from me and headed for the small kitchen. He came back with it full of warm water and I started to mop the floor. He signed some more when the floor started to resemble the swimming pool we had been using for our showers.

  “Watch,” he said as he took the mop from me.

  On top of the bucket was a grid thing, he squashed the mop on it to release some of the water and showed me how to mop the floor before handing it back to me.

  “Show me that again?” I said. His stare told me I hadn’t fooled him, so I took the mop and carried on.

  It took most of the day to clean the floor, the furniture and the grimy cracked window, but the difference when we had finished was unbelievable. The room was bright and airy; the stench of stale cigarettes had started to be replaced by the fresh air wafting in through the open window. My clothes were soaked, my hands and face were filthy, but we had done a great job. When Guiseppi arrived back he seemed impressed as he handed over $5 each. I quickly scrunched the bill up and placed it in my pocket.

  “Well, well, you did good kids,” Guiseppi said.

  “Of course we did. Now, do you have any other jobs we can do?” Robert replied.

  I watched Guiseppi run his hand over his chin, thinking before he answered. He told us to return the following morning, and with huge grins we turned to leave the office. We were pulled up short by the sight of Evelyn in the doorway.

  “Papa, I see you’ve met Robert and Travis,” she said.

  Fuck, she was his daughter. I was so glad Robert had given back her purse. No matter how big Rob was, those goons, as I called them, were much bigger. She gave us a wink as we left the office. No wonder Guiseppi knew we lived on the streets.

  It felt great to walk down the street with money in my pocket. We stopped outside a candy store. Bearing in mind Robert didn’t eat candy, I wondered why - but I wasn’t going to question it. I headed straight for the counter, collecting as much candy as I could while he made his way to the stationary rack. I bought candy; he bought a pad and pen.

  And so started our careers with Giuseppi Morietti - or Joe, as we called him.

  ****

  The following morning we were there bright and early and sitting on the doorstep to Joe’s office. We watched as his car arrived and he climbed out. This time we received a smile from one of the goons, a scowl from the other. Before we entered the now clean office, Joe pulled a wad of bills from his pocket. I don’t think I had ever seen so much money in my life. He peeled off $50 and handed it to Robert.

  “If you’re going to work for me, you need clean clothes. Go and get some then get straight back here,” Joe said.

  We turned and walked down the block.

  “Oh man, look at all that money,” I said, wanting to hold the $50 bill.

  Of course Robert kept hold of it. “We could live off that for a month,” I added.

  He told me off and he was right. We did what Joe asked and headed into a surplus store. We bought new T-shirts, jeans and sneakers, some new underwear, and with the clothes in a bag, the change and Joe’s receipt, we made our way back.

  Joe seemed surprised to see us; perhaps he had thought we might take his money and run. I guess if it had been up to me, I would have, but Robert had a plan; a plan I was still waiting to hear about. Joe gave us our first job - he wanted his dry cleaning collected and brought back to the office. Without comment, we headed off.

  “We’ve got to pick up his dry cleaning?” I said as we left.

  “Yep, and anything else he wants us to do. Think of the bigger picture, Trav. We start at the bottom and work our way up.”

  “We are twelve, not twenty. How many trips to the dry cleaners do you think it will take before we hit the big time?” I replied.

  “I don’t care, and neither should you. If takes a thousand trips, that’s what we will do.”

  I had no problem working for money, but I wasn’t about to be anyone’s slave. However, Robert had decided that was what we were going to do, and that was the end of it. I didn’t mind really; my life had improved and he made sure I was included in everything he did. I knew I should be more thankful. After all, if it hadn’t had been for Robert I doubted I would still be around.

  The one time I thought I had the upper hand where knowledge was concerned was when we were asked to deliver a small package. Robert held it in his fingers, rolling it around, looking at it with a furrowed brow. I knew instantly what it was and began to realise Robert had, in fact, led quite a sheltered life. We were delivering drugs. Drugs were always packaged that way; I had seen Slider open the same style packages. We were to deliver those little packages and sometimes collect money, sometimes not. There were times when the packages were larger and these would often be taken to huge mansion type houses. The ones I hated were the small packages that had to be delivered to the run-down apartment blocks, because those reminded me of home.

  At the end of the first week, Robert had $30 and I had nothing. He spent some of his money but saved most of it. He only ever spent on essentials and he wrote down everything he earned in that little notebook. Early the following week he announced he was going to keep my money and give me an allowance. I wasn’t bothered by that, I trusted him. I instinctively knew he would do right by me.

  ****

  One day, Jonathan, Joe’s right-hand man, asked us “Where do you sleep?” We liked Jonathan, he always took the time to talk to us. He wasn’t a goon.

  “Depends. Usually an alley not far from here,” I replied.

  He looked at Joe, concern etched on his face.

  “How did you end up on the streets?” he asked.

  Before I could answer Robert cut in. “That’s a long story, we’ll tell you one day, won’t we, Trav?”

  I wasn’t entirely sure why we couldn’t say but just nodded. Robert always had his reasons and he would share them with
me when we were alone.

  “I don’t want you on the street at night. You stay here, okay?” Joe said.

  He made a call. A little later Evelyn arrived, followed by Paul, a guy both Robert and I were unsure of. Paul was carrying two pull-out beds and Evelyn had linen and pillows. The beds were new and wrapped in cellophane. As Robert and Evelyn unpacked them she handed me a piece of paper.

  “Trav, read out those instructions will you?” she asked.

  There was a moment of silence as I looked at Robert. “Give it to me,” he said.

  The comment hadn’t gone unnoticed but nothing was said. Robert read how to assemble the beds and soon enough they were up in the corner of the office. I watched as Evelyn went to speak, but Joe shook his head before she could.

  Later that night with the lights off and just a streetlight illuminating the room, I asked Robert why he didn’t want Jonathan to know how we ended up homeless.

  “I don’t want people to know what I did, Trav, not yet. If Joe knows what I did he might not want us around and right now we need this.”

  In the dark I nodded, I understood. Robert had burnt down his aunt’s house, that wasn’t just having a falling out and running away. I often wondered why he burnt down the house, what made him angry enough to do that. I mean, Robert was someone who didn’t actually show any emotion. I’d seen him hit a man and the expression on his face hadn’t changed. I fell asleep content, with a belly full of the food Evelyn brought us earlier that evening. It was the first time I had slept soundly in a year. I was woken by Robert shaking my arm.

  “Trav, time to get up,” he said.

  I groaned and rolled to my side. He whipped the bed covers off exposing my half-naked body to the cold room.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “How the fuck do I know, but its light outside, time to get up,” he replied.

 

‹ Prev