Sally Boy

by P. Vincent DeMartino

  “I am now.”

  Nicole smiled. “I’m glad.”

  “So what’ve you been up to lately? I ain’t seen you around Tony’s in a while.”

  “You know, school, cheerleading, stuff like that. I’m getting ready to apply to college. What about you?”

  Leaning in close to her, Sal looked deeply into Nicole’s eyes, “I do what I do. You know how things are around here.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Embarrassed, Sal quickly withdrew. “Like what?”

  “Like the way you’re looking at me right now.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “Does it bother you when I look at you?” Sal purposely leaned in even closer.

  Nicole giggled. “No. I like the way you look at me.”

  “You do, huh. Why is that?”

  “I just do. It makes me feel...tell me what you’re thinking when you look at me like that?”

  “You really wanna know what I’m thinking?”

  Again, Nicole giggled. “Yes, Sal, I do.”

  “God, I love your laugh. You sound just like a little girl in a grown up girl’s body when you laugh.”

  “Thank you. Don’t change the subject.”

  “What was the question, again?” Sal teased.

  Nicole rolled her eyes and cried, “Sal!”

  “I was thinking about this one time on this school trip, we went to this museum, and we saw this painting of this girl. I think her name was Mona Lisa. She was supposed to be like one of the most beautiful girls in the world.”

  “You’re thinking about her now? Thanks a lot.”

  “No! Not about her, Nicole. I was just thinking that the guy who painted her, he shoulda painted you instead.”

  “Why is that?”

  “’Cause you’re so much more beautiful than her.”

  “That is so sweet. Thank you, Sal,” Nicole said warmly.

  “You’re welcome. I was really hoping you was gonna be here tonight, Nicole. I spoke to Philly C. Did he tell you?”

  “Yes, he told me,” Nicole said shyly. “I wanted him to talk to you.”

  “I ain’t gonna try and play it cool, Nicole. Truth is I’ve been crazy about you for a long time. I’m really glad you came tonight.”

  Taking a deep breath, Nicole whispered softly, “I’m really glad I came too.”

  Tentatively, Sal leaned in and gently pressed his lips against hers. Nicole stuck her tongue deep into Sal’s mouth and strongly rolled over, pulling him down on top of her.

  The basement screen door flew open, smashing against the wall, and almost swatting several girls standing near it. Sonny Giordano stumbled through the doorway, holding a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a smoke in the other. Two tough-looking guys dressed in jeans and black t-shirts followed close behind him, unaware of the dangers that awaited them.

  Sonny was tall, with a swimmer’s physique. He had better than average looks, dark brown hair, and a lazy eye that no one talked about because of a rumor that he once stabbed a guy for making a joke about it. Having a reputation as a notorious liar, Sonny preferred to use a knife rather than his fists in physical confrontations, and he frequently relied on his father’s status as a means to intimidate any guy who stood up to him. Every time Nicole tried to get away from him, Sonny would track her down, and then make an embarrassing scene if she didn’t leave with him. These immature tactics had worked very well for Sonny in the past, but it seemed this time that his luck had finally run out.

  One of the thugs accompanying Sonny immediately recognized the distinctive colors worn by almost every guy at the party. Grabbing Sonny by his shirt, the boy pinned him up against the wall. “You never told us we was gonna be crashing a Golden Guinea’s party. Are you fucking nuts?”

  The other boy looked around nervously. “Yeah Sonny, let’s get the fuck outta here. I ain’t looking for this kinda trouble.”

  Dropping his bottle of Jack Daniels and cigarette, Sonny broke free of the boy’s grasp. “I know these fucking guys. Awright? We’re friends. Youse ain’t got nothing to worry about. Besides, these assholes know who my old man is.”

  “Let’s just find your girl and get the fuck outta here,” the first boy said hesitantly, sharing a look of skepticism with his friend. “Awright, Sonny?”

  “Now you’re talking like you got balls. Let’s go.” Recognizing a face in the crowd, Sonny stumbled toward a tall, robust fellow smoking a cigarette and pounding a beer. “How you doing, Angelo?” Sonny asked as if they were friends.

  Looking Sonny over with contempt, Angelo responded rudely, “I’m doing good.”

  “Hey, you see Nicole around?”

  “Nah.” Angelo shook his head.

  “She was supposed to be at a fucking slumber party at that little bitch Lisa’s house. When I showed up there to surprise Nicole, she wasn’t there. Nobody wanted to tell me where she was...” Sonny laughed, “...but I got ’em to talk.”

  “Yeah, that’s great, Sonny,” Angelo remarked, indifferently.

  “I guess I’ll just keep looking for her.”

  “Yeah, you do that, Sonny.”

  Too drunk to understand that he was being disrespected, Sonny smiled. “Thanks, Ang. You’re a good friend.”

  “Why don’t you try looking for her over there?” Angelo suggested as he stiff-armed Sonny away from him.

  Foolishly, the boys proceeded through the party searching for Nicole. As they weaved their way through the gathering, Sonny came upon Marissa sitting on a love-seat, making-out with Anthony.

  Knowing she was a close friend of Nicole’s, he staggered toward them, and almost fell right into their laps. Managing to regain his balance at the last second, Sonny forced them apart. “Where’s Nicole?” he demanded like a spoiled child.

  Looking up, Marissa shrieked, “What the hell, Sonny?”

  “I know she’s here. Don’t fucking lie to me.”

  “Why don’t you try looking for her yourself?” Under her breath, Marissa mumbled, “Asshole!”

  “What the fuck did you say?”

  “Nothing,” Marissa replied innocently.

  “Where’s Gina? She’s probably with Nicole.”

  “Sonny, I got better things to do than keep tabs on my friends. I’m trying to have a good time, too, you know?”

  “Stupid bitch!” Drawing a switchblade from his pocket, Sonny popped the blade open and waved it in Marissa’s face. “After I find Nicole, I’m gonna come back here and take carea you. You little cunt!” Sonny then folded the blade back in and tucked the knife into his pocket. Turning to his friends, Sonny ordered, “C’mon, let’s keep looking.” As Sonny and his friends moved on, Anthony jumped to his feet.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Marissa shrieked.

  “Sal’s with Nicole, I gotta warn him. I’ll be right back.” Kissing Marissa one last time, Anthony chased after Sonny. “Hey Sonny, how you doing?” Anthony shouted, trying to alert Sal to Sonny’s presence.

  “Leave me alone. I’m looking for somebody,” Sonny muttered angrily.

  “Sonny, who you looking for?” Anthony yelled back even louder.

  Coming to an abrupt stop, Sonny turned and seized two fistfuls of Anthony’s shirt. “Shut the fuck up, asshole. I’m looking for my girl, you little prick.” Lifting Anthony up off the floor, Sonny tossed him into a group of people.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Sonny caught a glimpse of a familiar blonde making out with some guy on a love-seat. As he focused his stare on the couple, Sonny could plainly see Sal and Nicole going at it. “What the fuck?” he muttered, rubbing his eyes in disbelief.

  Plowing his way through the crowd, Sonny pushed aside girls and carelessly bumped into guys spilling their drinks. Standing before Sal and Nicole, Sonny ripped them apart and shouted, “Nicole, what the fuck are you doing?”

  Embarrassed, Nicole’s face turned bright red and her jaw dropped. Sonny stuck his fi
nger in Sal’s face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my girl?”

  “I’m not your girl, Sonny!” Nicole cried out in frustration, and then defensively leaned in behind Sal.

  Sonny’s face tightened and his eyes blinked rapidly. “I ain’t talking to you right now, Nicole. I’m talking to this, asshole. What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my girl, scumbag?”

  Sal turned toward a now trembling Nicole. “I know what’s been going on. He ain’t gonna bother you or your little brother ever again. I promise.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Nicole looked deeply into Sal’s eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”

  “Listen, jerk-off, everybody knows that Nicole ain’t your girl. You’re just making a fool outta yourself by telling everybody she is. So stop it! Awright? And I’m telling you right now, Sonny. If you bother Nicole or her little brother ever again, there ain’t gonna be enough of you left to bury. Now go home, before you get hurt.”

  “Do you believe this fucking guy? You got some fucking balls. You know that? You’re fooling around with my girl and you’re telling me to go home.”

  “Didn’t you hear what she just said?”

  “I don’t care what she said. She’s my girl! You hear me?”

  Scurrying to the record player, Marissa lowered the volume. The entire party slowed and everyone huddled around the two combatants. Several of the bigger guys congregated to see the show, and if need be, keep order.

  Standing slowly, Sal adjusted his pants. “You know, Sonny, you got everybody in the neighborhood thinking you’re such a tough guy. But you ain’t tough! You’re nothing but a little punk hiding behind his old man.”

  Sonny half-heartedly lunged at Sal, but he was restrained. “You’re real fucking brave here with all your boys.”

  “I’m not the one who has to threaten a girl just to get her to go out with me. You should be ashamed of yourself, you stupid, cocked-eyed bastard.”

  A loud “OOOH!” emanated from the crowd.

  “You’re fucking dead! You hear me? I’m gonna cut your fucking heart out!”

  “You know something else, Sonny? Your breath is so bad it could knock a buzzard offa shit pile.”

  The crowd howled with laughter. One guy spit beer out of his mouth spraying other people. Two more fell to the floor laughing still holding their drinks. Again, Sonny tried to lunge at Sal, but once more he was restrained, only this time, more aggressively.

  Entering the basement through the screen door, Frankie was surprised to see that the party had stalled. At twenty-years-old, Frankie was one of the oldest members of the Golden Guineas, and by far their best fighter. Big, tough, and mean, Frankie had very little tolerance for people he didn’t like. He got his nickname Knuckles when he was fourteen, after he beat-up a grown man twice his age. The bloody and battered man was overheard confiding in his friends after his humiliating defeat, “All I could see was these giant fucking knuckles hitting me in the face.” Ever since, the name stuck.

  “Hey, what the fuck’s going on here?” Frankie asked some skinny drunk kid.

  Too inebriated to speak, the boy just shrugged.

  “I’ll take carea this.” Frankie promptly bullied his way through to the center of the action.

  Approaching Sonny from behind and seizing the back of his collar, Frankie lifted him up. “Sonny Giordano! I shoulda fucking known. What the fuck’s wrong with you? I can’t believe that you’re stupid enough to come to one of our parties and start shit. What, do you got a fucking death wish or something?”

  “I didn’t do nothing!”

  “This is a going away party for Louie, scumbag. Now get the fuck outta here before I break your fucking hole.”

  “Fuck you, Frankie. He started it.”

  “Fuck me, huh?” With his free hand, Frankie punched Sonny squarely in his face. The force of the blow sent Sonny sailing back into his two friends. The three then crashed into a wall of people, knocking them to the floor.

  Like a swarm of bees protecting their hive, the angry mob quickly recovered, and they stung Sonny and his friends with kicks and punches. The unwelcome intruders were pelted by beer bottles, cans, and anything else the girls could find to throw. Guys fired wild swings at the heads of the three fleeing party crashers as they speedily backtracked toward the screen door.

  Amused by the mob’s ferocity, Mikey and Anthony watched Sonny and his friends try to make it outside. Mikey slapped Anthony on his shoulder and shouted, “C’mon, let’s wait for these assholes outside.”

  Racing toward the back door, Mikey picked up a baseball bat that was leaning up against the door jamb. When the three interlopers finally made it out of the basement, they were greeted by more swinging fists and Mikey wielding a bat.

  Separating Sonny from the melee, Sal dragged him into the street. “You like to threaten girls, huh?”

  Eager to see this confrontation, the frenzied gathering followed the pair out into the street. Sal hit Sonny with two punishing quick left jabs square in his face. Blood spurted from Sonny’s nose and his eyes began to tear causing his vision to become blurred. Sonny frantically wiped at his eyes and the sight of his own blood on his hands sent him into a rage. Reaching into his jacket pocket, Sonny pulled his switchblade.

  “He’s got a blade!” Anthony’s voice sounded out from the crowd.

  The long knife gleamed in the faint streams of light from the streetlamp. “Now you’re gonna die!” Sonny yelled as he came at Sal.

  Dodging the razor-sharp knife, Sal smartly removed his jacket, and wrapped it around his arm. Using the protected limb as a shield, Sal was able to ward off Sonny’s lethal attacks. After sidestepping one of Sonny’s thrusts, Sal kicked him hard in his stomach, momentarily hurting him. Shaking off the blow, Sonny came at Sal again, swinging the knife like a lunatic. Sonny made an off balance thrust at Sal’s midsection, which enabled Sal to kick the hand holding the switchblade. The weapon flew into the air and landed on the pavement. Alertly, Sal kicked the knife toward a sewer drain. The switchblade skimmed across the blacktop and fell into the dark hole.

  “Now it’s just you and me, asshole!” Sal yelled as he tossed his jacket into the crowd.

  Panicked, Sonny swung wildly, but Sal easily ducked his flailing fists and landed two more stiff jabs. Knowing he was over-matched, Sonny rushed Sal, trying to put him in a head-lock, but he only managed to scratch Sal’s neck. Sonny’s fingernails cut deep into Sal’s skin drawing blood. Sal pushed Sonny away, and danced around him like an experienced prize-fighter. Sal connected with a vicious right-cross to the side of Sonny’s head, stunning the taller opponent. Sal then followed up with a left-hook and a right upper-cut to Sonny’s jaw. Literally out on his feet, Sonny slowly swayed back-and-forth, unable to raise his hands.

  Like bloodthirsty spectators in the Roman Coliseum, voices from the crowd yelled for Sal to finish him. As Sal stepped toward Sonny, their eyes locked for a split-second, and Sal could see the incoherent daze of a beaten adversary. Mercifully, Sal halted his attack. Placing his hand on Sonny’s chest, Sal pushed and Sonny fell backward hitting the ground like a sack of dirt.

  The three foolish trespassers lay in the street, bloody and beaten. Looming over them, Frankie hollered, “Leave ’em there in the gutter where they belong. Everybody back inside. This is Louie’s night. Fuck ’em.”

  The multitude of adolescent drunks slowly filed back inside, hooting and hollering from the excitement of the fight and their over-indulgence in alcohol. As they strolled past the unconscious party crashers, many spit on them, while others fired disparaging remarks about the three and their mothers.

  Seeing Nicole standing on the sidewalk holding his jacket, Sal approached her. “Are you okay?”

  “I should be asking you that.” Nicole smiled as she handed him back his coat.

  “I’m okay.”

  Taking Sal’s hand, Nicole whispered softly, “Let’s go back inside.”

  “Nicole, I really don’t want to.
”

  “Why? Did I do something wrong?” she asked sounding concerned.

  “Oh, no,” Sal said, torn. “It’s just everybody’s gonna be mobbing us for the rest of the night. All they’re gonna wanna do is talk about the fight. We’re not gonna have any time to be alone. I was thinking maybe we could get outta here?”

  “What did you have in mind?” Nicole asked shyly.

  “We could go back to my house. My Pop won’t be home for hours. We could hang out in my room. Listen to music. Talk. I just wanna spend some time alone with you. So what do you say?”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Yeah. That’s great!”

  “Sal, did you really mean what you said to me before?”

  “About what?”

  Rising up onto her tippy-toes, Nicole whispered something in his ear.

  Sal smiled. “Of course I did.”

  Nicole’s face lit up and she let out a sexy, high-pitched scream. “Let’s go!”

  Taking her hand, Sal and Nicole discreetly wandered away from the party. As they searched for their friend to congratulate him on his victory, Mikey and Anthony saw Sal moving down the street with Nicole.

  “Where the fuck are they going?” Mikey asked jealously.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Hey Sal, where the hell are you going? The party’s inside,” Mikey shouted through cupped hands.

  “Yeah, I know. Have a good time,” Sal hollered back.

  “Damn! Why can’t that be me?” Anthony said enviously.

  “What a lucky fucking bastard. Let’s get back inside. It’s always easier to get into a girl’s pants after a fight, anyways.”

  “That was a good fight Mike, huh?”

  “It was pretty good. I’ve seen better.”

  As they walked toward Frankie’s house, the two occasionally glanced at their friend and Nicole strolling down the street. Finally, Sal and Nicole turned the corner at the end of the block and disappeared.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The morning sun shone on Sal’s face through the partially open drapes of his bedroom window. Opening his eyes, Sal was delighted to find Nicole sleeping next to him, her head softly resting on his chest. After sliding off the covers, Sal gently lifted her arm from his body and set it on the mattress. He then slithered out from under Nicole’s head, easing it onto a pillow, and crawled out of the bed, careful not to wake her.