by K'wan
Louie looked up at the fat man who was glaring at him through the rearview. “No, I’m with you Frankie. I’m with you.”
“Then act like it.”
“You need me to go in with you?” Jimmy asked. He wasn’t comfortable with Frankie rolling into a nest of vipers with only Louie to watch his back.
“No need, I bought insurance,” Frankie replied as he held up a yellow envelope. “Now let me go in here and pay my respects.” He grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the dash and slid out of the car.
The front lawn of the house was crawling with Meloni soldiers and associates. All eyes turned to them when Frankie and Louie approached. Louie looked like he was ready to shit himself, but Frankie was as cool as the other side of the pillow when he walked up to the door and rang the bell. There was a commotion on the other side of the door before it finally swung open, and a woman who could only be described as robust greeted them. Behind her were several hard-looking men wearing uninviting scowls. When she saw who it was, her eyes narrowed to slits.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Ragotta. My name is…”
“I know who you are. What do you want?” Mrs. Ragotta said in a voice that was far deeper than Frankie expected.
“Simply to offer my condolences and pay my respects,” Frankie said in his silver tone, offering her the flowers.
Mrs. Ragotta looked at the flowers for a while like she was trying to figure out if they were poison or not.
“Thank you,” she said as she accepted the flowers and stepped aside to let him in. “Little Joe,” she called to one of the men, a thin Italian with brown hair and eyes to match, “show our guest to the study where your father and the other guys are.”
“I’ll cut his stinking Cissaro throat is what I’ll do!” Little Joe snapped, which got him a slap to the back of his head with one of his mother’s meaty hands.
“We’ve had enough craziness today and I won’t have any more of it upsetting your sister. Now I don’t know what business you boys have going on in the streets, but while he’s under this roof, he is a guest. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mama,” Little Joe said in a low tone. “C’mon,” he said as he motioned for them to follow him inside.
After Frankie and Louie were checked for weapons, Little Joe escorted through the house. If looks could kill Frankie, would have surely dropped dead on the spot from all the murderous eyes that turned to him. One soldier even went as far as spitting on the floor in their path.
“When we get inside, shut the fuck up and let me do the talking,” Frankie whispered to Louie when they reached the study door.
Inside there were about a half dozen men, smoking and talking amongst themselves. Sitting on a sofa, in all of his bulky glory, was Big Joe. His eyes were rimmed red like he had been crying and a young girl of about twenty was rubbing his back trying to console him. From the striking resemblance, Frankie reasoned that it was one of his daughters. Little Joe motioned for them to stay put while he went and whispered something in his father’s ear. When Big Joe’s eyes landed on Frankie, a chill ran through his body, and he wondered if he should have have listened to Louie.
When Big Joe rose to his full height, which was about 6’5”, he seemed to dwarf everyone in the room. One of his Capos opened his mouth to say something, but a look from Big Joe silenced him. The huge man took his time walking across the room and came to stand directly in front of Frankie. Frankie was a tall man, but he looked like a child standing in Big Joe’s shadow.
“Frankie the Fish,” Big Joe said his name, as it was something vile.
“My condolences on your loss, Big Joe,” Frankie said, trying to keep his voice steady. When he leaned in to kiss Big Joe’s cheek, a massive hand wrapped around his neck.
“You and yours kiss my son-in-law and now you further insult me by fouling my home with your Cissaro stink during our time of grief?” Big Joe snarled, shaking him like a rag doll.
“Break his neck, Dad!” Little Joe cheered his father on.
“I didn’t…” Frankie croaked but Big Joe’s grip made it near impossible to breathe let alone speak.
“Didn’t what? Didn’t have anything to do with it? Is that what you were gonna say?” Big Joe cackled. “I’m going to crush your throat and then I’m going to roll into Manhattan with every able body I can muster up and wipe you back-stabbing Cissaros off the map once and for all.”
“If you kill Frankie, then you’ll never find out what happened to Nicky!” Louie blurted out, turning all the attention to him.
“What did you say?” Big Joe turned his murderous stare to Louie.
Louie took a step forward, but several guns being aimed at him made him pause. “The envelope,” he said, pointing to the parcel clutched in Frankie’s hand.
Little Joe snatched it and began thumbing through the pictures inside. “What the fuck is this?”
“Killer,” was the only word Frankie was able to get out. Thankfully, it was enough to get Big Joe to release his grip and allow him to fall to the ground.
Big Joe took the pictures from his son and started looking at them. “Who is this?” he asked as he held one of the pictures up for Frankie to see.
“The man responsible for Nicky’s death,” Frankie said, massaging his throat. “Those pictures were taken outside the building where they found Nicky moments after his death.”
One of the younger street bosses came over and peered over Joe’s shoulder at the pictures. “I think I’ve seen this guy around before. Isn’t he with the Clarks?”
“Yes, he’s one of their young hitters,” Frankie told him.
“Bullshit!” Big Joe balled the picture up and hit Frankie in the face with it. “There’s no way you can convince me that a bunch of second-rate thugs had the balls to kill a Made man. Doesn’t make any sense. Drag this piece of shit out back and off him.”
Several sets of hands grabbed Frankie and Louie and began dragging them away.
“It makes sense if Gee-Gee promised them your territory after they pushed you out of Jersey!” Frankie said in a last ditch attempt to save his life.
Big Joe raised his hand and the men stopped. “Okay, Frankie. I’m gonna let you humor me. You’ve got thirty seconds to convince me not to bury you in my backyard.”
“Big Joe, there’s no secret that our two families have never quite seen eye to eye, but I’ve always had a lot of respect for you. You’re one of the few who still play this thing by the rules, which is more than I can say about the man who now sits at the head of our table. Ever since Gee-Gee took over, things haven’t been good over on our side, and they got worse when he gave those black sons of bitches seats at our table.” He paused to make sure Big Joe was still following. “Gee-Gee is willing to break bread with anyone to put coins in his pockets, even niggers.”
“You’ve burned through twenty of your thirty seconds and I’m still not convinced,” Big Joe told him. “Were the Cissaros responsible for Nicky’s death or not?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good enough for me. Let’s do this fuck, then ride into Manhattan and kill the rest,” Little Joe suggested.
“But it wasn’t a family decision,” Frankie added. “To kill a Made man would’ve meant all-out war. We all knew it, which is why Gee-Gee couldn’t get the full support of his captains and had to go to his new black friends to carry out the hit.”
“Let’s say that I did buy this load of horse shit you’re shoveling, which I don’t. Why would you risk Gee-Gee’s wrath by coming to me with it?” Big Joe asked.
“To be perfectly honest with you, it’s because I’d rather die old and rich than young and foolishly, and I’m not the only one who feels this way. Gee-Gee is running our family into the ground and I can’t just sit by and watch anymore.” Frankie’s voice was heavy with emotion. “If you don’t believe me, have one of your people check it out.”
Big Joe handed one of the remaining pictures to one of his Capos, who went off to verify the story.
&nb
sp; The minutes seemed to drip past while they waited for Big Joe’s man to verify the story. Frankie glanced over his shoulder at Louie, who looked like he would faint at any moment. It had been an Oscar-worthy performance, and he hoped that it would be enough.
Finally, Joe’s man came back, and they held their collective breaths waiting for him to deliver the news.
“It checks out. They call him The Animal and he indeed works with the Clark family,” The man informed them.
Frankie wanted to drop to his knees and thank God, but he had to keep his composure. They weren’t out of the woods yet. For a long while, Big Joe paced back and forth looking at the picture as if he was trying to commit it to memory.
“So,” Big Joe finally broke his silence, “where can I find this Animal?”
CHAPTER 26
Animal had been in good spirits when he woke up that morning. As promised, Tommy sent his man to meet him the night before to drop off the ten grand. For a long while, he just sat with it sitting on his bed, staring at it in wonder. It wasn’t the first time he had ever laid eyes on ten grand in a lump sum, but it was the first time he didn’t have to split it up amongst the Dog Pound.
After stashing the bulk of the money in his hiding place in his apartment, he hit the streets. His first stop was to go by Brasco’s crib. His best friend was currently in jail, again, and he wanted to make sure he had something on his books. Animal would have loved to go see him and drop it on his friend personally, but he wasn’t yet old enough to be allowed in prison without an adult. He had to settle for the next best thing, which was dropping it off with one of his uncles. There were three of them, Bizzle, Pop-Top and Vernon. Pop-Top was in jail and Vernon was a notorious thief and addict, so he trusted the thousand dollars to Bizzle to make sure Brasco got it. He and Bizzle chopped it up for a few hours while catching up on Animal’s life since he had moved out of their crowded apartment, before he had to move onto his next destination.
Animal jumped on the bus and headed across town to Pathmark to go grocery shopping. Some of the stuff was for his place, but the bulk of it was for the kids in The Below. He raided the aisles, grabbing hordes of their favorite snacks, five loaves of bread and spent two hundred dollars at the deli counter getting fresh turkey, ham and roast beef. There would be no bologna sandwiches for his little ones that night. He couldn’t wait to see their dirty little faces when he popped up with all the stuff, but first he had to make a quick stop back by his place.
By the time the taxi pulled up in front of Animal’s building, it was almost nightfall. He told the driver to wait for him while he ran to take some of the bags up to his apartment. As he fished around in his pocket for his keys, an eerie feeling settled in the pit of his gut. Putting the bags down, Animal ran his fingers along the edges of the door. Sure enough, the small piece of tape he always left on it had been tampered with. Drawing his gun, he slipped into his apartment.
Moving on the balls of his feet, he crept down the hall. He could hear the sounds of music coming from the living room, “The Lizard King” by The Doors, which filled him with rage. Not only had someone been foolish enough to break into his place, but they had fucked with his record collection. They were going to die, but he would take his time killing them. Ready to deliver the gift of death, Animal jumped out into the living room, gun drawn and finger on the trigger. He was quite surprised when he realized that he knew the intruder.
“You always did have strange tastes in music,” Tech said. He was standing by the window, smoking a blunt and reading the back of an album cover.
“Are you crazy? I could’ve killed you!” Animal barked.
“Doubt it. You always hesitate for a second before you pull the trigger,” Tech said as he exhaled the smoke. “That’s a habit you’re going to have to learn to break before it breaks you. Besides, sneaking in here seems like the only way I can get an audience with the high lord of abandoned buildings. You been avoiding me?”
“No.”
“Feels like it. You don’t return my calls and whenever I swing by, you always seem to be out. Knowing you the way I do, you probably watch me from the roof until I leave before slipping back in here.” Tech tossed the album cover onto the table. “How you been?”
Animal shrugged. “I’m hanging in.”
“I see you’ve done some shopping. I saw you with the bags when you jumped out of the cab.” Tech nodded to the window.
“Oh, yeah. I had to grab some stuff for the kids,” Animal told him.
“Since you needed a cab to get it here, must’ve been quite a bit of stuff.”
“What are you, my fucking parole officer?” Animal asked defensively.
“Calm yo’ little ass down. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on with you. You’ve been moving real funny lately, and I’m starting to worry. That’s all.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“That’s never stopped me from listening to your problems before and trying to help you figure them out before, now has it? Talk to your big homie, blood.”
Animal searched for the words. “I don’t know, Tech. I just been feeling different lately, starting to question a lot of shit. What we do, how we live…”
“You thinking about hanging up your guns?” Tech asked.
“It’s the opposite actually. Ever since that shit happened with the old lady, I feel like I lose a little more of myself every time I do some dirt.”
“Ah, I see. That’s your soul dying off a little bit at a time,” Tech told him.
“Nigga, I’m trying to have a deep conversation and you’re making fun of me?” Animal’s voice flashed hurt.
“Not at all. I’m being serious. Look here, man, let me try and put this into perspective for you. Deep down we’re good people, but we do bad shit. I’d think something was wrong with you if you didn’t at least feel a little guilt. Ain’t no shame in that. What there is shame in, is you letting this shit eat away at you so deep that one day you’re sitting on the edge of that bed contemplating eating a bullet. Take it from someone who knows first-hand.”
“Get the fuck outta here!” Animal said in disbelief. For as long as he had known Tech, he always seemed so emotionally removed that Animal wondered if he was capable of feeling anything at all.
“Real shit, man. After Jah got killed, I went through a very dark period in my life. I didn’t have anyone around me to explain what was going on, so I had to figure it all out on my own. I was fighting the battle of my life between light and dark.”
“Which side won?” Animal asked.
Tech looked at him. “Do you really not know the answer to that question?”
“So, you’re telling me that I should give into these urges?”
“I can’t tell you which way to jump, because it’s your life. What I can tell you is that I’ve seen a lot of dudes try and straddle both sides of the fence and it never ends well. You have to either embrace that little monster whispering sweet nothings in your ear, or put him in a box and don’t ever look back. No matter which way you go, you’ll always be my friend, feel me?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Animal said as he nodded. Outside, the cab driver honked his horn. “Shit, I forgot I had him waiting. Why don’t you come with me to The Below to drop this stuff off?”
“You know I don’t fuck with them creepy ass kids,” Tech laughed.
“Blood, I don’t know why you’re so hard on them kids and they’re just like we were a few years ago,” Animal said.
“Nah, ain’t too many like us, baby bro. We’re the last of a dying breed.”
“You’re right about that. Well I’ll be done with them in a few hours, so let’s hook up tonight and do something.”
Tech was about to agree, but then remembered he had to meet Jewels and Pietro. “Nah, tonight is no good.”
“What’s more important than kicking it with your dawg?” Animal wanted to know.
“I kinda got a date,” Tech half-lied.
This caught Animal
by surprise, as he had never known Tech for anything but one-night stands. “Damn, this must be some special broad.”
“I ain’t sure yet, but I’d like to find out. Tell you what; how about we meet in the morning for breakfast and I’ll tell you all about her?” Tech suggested.
“Sounds like a plan,” Animal agreed.
The taxi horn blared again.
“Let me get out of here before I have to shoot this nigga,” Animal said as he headed for the door. “Oh and Tech, thanks for the talk.”
“We all we got.” Tech saluted him.
“Indeed,” Animal said as he returned the gesture before heading out.
Neither of them knew it at the time, but when their paths would next cross, nothing would be the same.
The taxi Animal was riding in hit an unexpected wall of traffic. It seemed to be backed up for blocks and it was starting to irritate him. “Damn, man, can’t you go around this shit?” He was thinking about the ice cream in the bag, which was surely starting to melt by that point.
“I wish I could. Looks like there’s something going on down there,” the taxi driver said, beating his horn.
“Fuck it. I’m only a few blocks away. I can walk from here.” Animal paid the driver and got out with his bags.
Now that Animal was on the sidewalk, he had a better view of what was going on. In the distance, he could see the flashing lights of police and fire trucks and smell the smoke. One of the buildings appeared to be on fire. As he got closer he realized it wasn’t just any building, but his building! Dropping the bags, Animal ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. People stood around spectating as the fire fighters fought to put out the blaze. “Move! Move!” he yelled as he shoved his way through the crowd. He had just broken the ring of people when a cop grabbed him.
“Stay back, please!” the cop instructed as he shoved him.
“But you don’t understand…”Animal tried to explain, but the cop cut him off.