Say Goodbye and Goodnight

by David Ruggerio

“Of course.”

  As he walked to the side of the bar where the telephone was, I took careful notice of the bartender’s words. He referred to him as “Don,” and in this neighborhood, that term was not thrown around loosely. It was a term amongst Sicilians of enormous respect and honor.

  I faintly heard Vizzini speaking to someone in Sicily, what I deciphered appeared to be harsh and argumentative. Suddenly, my eyes were drawn to the entrance of the café. Two elder Sicilian men entered side by side, frumpily dressed with bucket hats atop their balding heads. They were expressionless, but when the bartender set his eyes upon them, he dropped behind the bar to the floor. Vizzini turned, his eyes met theirs, and at that very moment, the men swung from behind their backs two sawed-off shotguns. They slowly raised them, giving ample notice to Vizzini of his death sentence. Calò stood tall, not a shred of fear appeared on his face; he resided to his fate. Not a single plea for mercy, this was strength unfathomable. They also said nothing, and moments later, they opened fire. By the time they were done, Calò was unrecognizable. Dispassionately, the two men turned and casually walked out of the café and into a waiting car.

  This was the way Men of Honor carried out their vengeance. I sat there stunned, the two assassins never acknowledged my presence. My friend Calò lay slain, it was doubtful he ever felt any pain. I knew one thing; I wanted nothing to do with the law. I looked to see if there were any witnesses, and then calmly exited the café. As I did, I kept my head down and looked at no one.

  A block before my house, the emotions from this life-and-death tragedy hit me like a ton of bricks. I stopped and fell to my knees. Tears welled up, and a severe feeling of nausea overtook me. How could one human being do that to another? What horrible crime had he committed to warrant such an ending? Always there are more paths than clues. I tried to focus. In a moment of self-concern, I pondered what the important thing Vizzini needed to tell me was? Time would reveal everything.

  *****

  I entered my house, numbed by what I just witnessed, but I knew enough I could never reveal to anyone I saw the massacre.

  In stark contrast, contentment filled my house like never before. The continual presence of my mother’s two future daughters-in-law filled her with glee. My father returned to his garden, but instead of sorrow, it was out of euphoria. For the first time, he planted an array of colorful flowers, a harbinger to all that his heart was full of happiness. The harmony in the house even changed, at times allowing the Bee Gees to replace Ol’ Blue Eye’s.

  As hard as I tried, the nightmare of Vizzini’s demise was on nightly display. I couldn’t hide the anxiety and abhorrence of what they had done to my friend. Yes, friend, I’ve said it. In fact, I knew it. Although we were far from being bosom buddies, I felt something missing. A sort of distant cousin who kept an eye out, and now he was gone.

  *****

  Sal was about to graduate from the academy, and with a loving gesture from Albert Columbo (He had a two-star police chief on the take), Sal was assigned to the 62nd precinct, only minutes away from our home.

  Sal and Angie began the search for a home of their own. They wanted to be settled before they married, but when my father found out they were looking in Long Island, he flipped his Sicilian wig. “The Island? Why? What’s the matter around here? With your own people.”

  I waited for my brother to stand up to my father and show his bride-to-be what a man he was. Instead, my brother made one or two feeble cases for his reasoning, and after a full-court press by my father, Saverio prevailed.

  That Monday, Sal and Angie were being courted by a Sicilian real estate broker, who showed them houses within walking distance from my parents. This time, there was nothing I could do.

  Gia and I were a different story; we both wanted to raise our children in the warmth and protection of our community. (Although the word protection had become reviling) With both families firmly rooted in the area, and both grandmothers only a stone’s throw away, it made perfect sense.

  That evening, I attempted to explain to Sal why we wanted to remain in Bensonhurst. His demeanor was that of a defeated sibling, “Yeah, I guess that’s good enough reasons.”

  I recognized I blundered. I needed to rescue my brother at that moment, “Sal, why do you always give in to Pop? If Long Island is where you want to be, then go for it.”

  He grinned, “You were always more mature than me.” We hugged each other, “I guess, being stationed in this neighborhood, it only makes sense to buy a house here.” Then his love of our mother's food took over, “Besides, Ma can cook lunch for me every day!”

  “Ma? What about your wife?”

  “Oh, yeah…She can come over too!”

  *****

  Gia and I spent every waking moment together, which left little time for my friends. Vito and Sonny began to question my manhood, “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.” I knew they were not serious; they adored Gia. So, we decided to meet at Roll-N-Roaster in Sheepshead Bay; there was little chance that we would run into Baldassari.

  It was a blazing hot afternoon; even the seagulls sought shelter. As I pulled into the parking lot, I was startled to see Carla get out of Vito’s car. She grabbed Vito’s arm and gave him a passionate kiss for all to see. This bliss was all a mirage; I knew Carla didn’t give two-shits for Vito. Her innuendos were a ploy to make me jealous.

  We grabbed booths in the back, Carla and Vito sat right across from me. What bruising remained from the attack was covered by makeup. Within seconds I noticed when Vito looked away, Carla flashed a look of hostility towards me. Yet, whenever Vito turned back, her expression changed to the adoring girlfriend. Her bawdy kisses advertised to all Sheepshead Bay of their relationship. I didn’t care; I always adored Carla as a friend and wanted only the best for her.

  Sonny had his fill of “As the World Turns,” and interrupted the groping marathon, “Hey, you two, give it a fucken break already.” He looked over towards me, “Ant, did you hear that Gallo struck again?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Another spic in the Bronx caught it last night. Found him in the East River with two in the back of his head!”

  “Oh, yeah? But do you think it’s Gallo doing all the shooting up there?”

  “You don’t think so? I guess then it’s just another spic growing fins out of his ass?”

  My mind wandered back to Lee. The vision of his dark image haunted me. I couldn’t bring his name up, I knew better; not here, not now. They could never learn it was me who cooperated with the police. Secrets had taken over my life.

  While Sonny sauntered over to the counter and ordered for the entire table, Vito quipped, “So your brother is going over to the dark side. When does he get his cape?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “I hear he’s stationed in the old 62nd, how did he pull that off?”

  “Columbo.” The mere mention of his name quieted the table but further angered Carla.

  Content after wolfing down a dozen roast beef sandwiches, we all sat back and enjoyed what life had to offer. We peered out the window as the fishing boats tooted their horns, announcing to all of their safe arrivals home. Hordes of old Italian women crowded the dock to buy fresh fish. Vito interrupted my daydreaming, “Hey, you guys want to go to Coney Island?”

  “Hellya!”

  “I’ll be right back; I’m going to use the restroom.” Sonny went along with him, leaving me alone with Carla. This was the moment she had waited for. She glared at me, there was a smoldering rage within in her, was it because I chose Gia? It was never a contest. I needed to break the ice, “Carla, do you have a problem with me?” Those mere syllables opened the floodgates; she burst into tears. “Yeah, I have a
fucken problem with you!”

  “Is it over Gia?”

  “No, it’s because you left me that night?”

  “So, you’re blaming me for what happened?”

  “Yes, if we had spent the night together, this would never have happened.”

  “But you knew I was with Gia.”

  “Fuck Gia, and fuck you!” Vito returned at that moment to find his new girlfriend in tears, “Yo Ant, what did you say to her.” His anger boiled over. It would be fruitless to try and hash this out with him, “I didn’t say anything to her.” He turned to Carla, “What did he say?” She grunted and wiped her mascara filled tears away. Vito was infuriated, he raged at me, “What? Gia isn’t enough for you?” His voice rose to a crescendo, “You can’t see me and Carla happy together? What kind of fucked-up friend are you?” I knew it was too late to explain, “Vito, it’s not like that.”

  “Fuck you…it’s exactly like that!” He grabbed Carla by the arm and stormed out with Sonny and the rest of the group in tow. Girls ruined more than their fair share of friendships, and at that moment, Carla provoked irreparable damage.

  *****

  Rarely did I ever see my father in formal attire, and for him to quell his hostilities over Sal opting for another career, was joyous in itself. Gia and Angie showed up early, both radiant, as they scampered up to my mother’s room to help mother hen finish getting ready. Sal left early that morning, having to finish up and sign his life away.

  Saverio was always impatient, “Rosa, are you ready yet?”

  “Pop, we have plenty of time.” You see, no matter where we were going, my father was always a nervous Nellie. The ceremony was at the Garden, and I couldn’t wait to stand there and see what it was like as a spectator; God knows I hadn’t the opportunity during the fight!

  My father carried on, “Rosa, come-on, we have to find parking!”

  “Relax Pop, why are you so uptight?”

  He lowered his voice to a whisper and mumbled something indecipherable. I tried to reassure him, “Pop, stop worrying.”

  He wasn’t having any of it, “Yeah, from your mouth to God’s ears.” He gazed up as Gia walked down the stairs, his eyes seemed to glaze over. All the cares in the world seemed to disappear, “Madonna, guarda com'è bella!”

  Yes, she was beautiful, and she was all mine.

  *****

  When the Commissioner of the Police Department called my brother’s name, I looked to my left and saw my mother in tears, which I expected. When I turned to my right, I was shocked to see tears rolling down the old man’s face. At that moment, he looked so frail, so old. The emotions aged him before my eyes. He needed care and coddling; this family could no longer rest alone upon his shoulders. We needed to appreciate the time we all had together, who knew how long it would all last.

  Now, it was all about my big brother, and with Angie securely in his arms, their child already showing, I couldn’t have been happier for him.

  *****

  (c)

  *****

  Where was the summer going? I wanted it to last forever. The fight coming up demanded a lot more training. I was no longer a six or eight round fighter; this was a ten rounder! A bout of this length opened a portal to the dark and mysterious regions of my mind that few boxers encounter. A fight like this tested the true resolve of a human being; it brought the absolute best or the utter worst out of a fighter. Great stamina created champions, while lack of it created cowards of us all.

  Izzy insisted from the moment I entered the gym, till the second I left, my feet were to be tied together by twine twelve inches apart. By doing all my training in such a fashion, he felt the balance issues would be resolved. I had to give it to him; he always thought outside the box. But Jesus, did I hate it, I felt like a fool. Ralphie quipped, “Maybe it’ll make you a better dancer.” He thought for a second, “But there’s only one Clay!”

  “Ok, Ralphie, I got the point.”

  Rodrigues was a powerful opponent; for that reason, Tiger proposed we incorporate some weight training. Izzy hit the roof, “There’s only one trainer here! Understood?” he turned to me, “Lay off the weights, and lay off the women! Do you understand?”

  “But Izz, I’m going to get married.”

  That sent him into a rage, “Then find another gym and find another manager!” He turned and slammed the door of his office. Tiger and I looked at each other, as much as Izzy could be short-tempered, there was something else wrong. We both looked over to Ralphie. When it came to Izzy, he even knew what color underwear he was wearing that day. Tiger growled, “Ralphie, come over here!”

  “I don’t know anything.”

  “We didn’t ask anything yet.”

  “Exactly, I promised not to…ah, shit!”

  “Ah-ha! Now cough it up!” We grabbed him and dragged him into the confines of the locker room. I knew I had a better chance, “Come on, what is going on with Izzy?”

  “Ok, but please, whatever you do, don’t let him know it was me who told you.” Tiger was growing impatient, “Yeah, yeah, cough it up.”

  “Well, how can I say this? …Izzy went to a doctor, and he has cancer!” We wanted a blunt answer, and boy did we get it. That revelation stunned both of us. It caused physical pain inside my chest, “Ralphie, how bad is it?”

  “Bad! They wanted to give him some type of treatment, but they told him it wouldn’t cure him, just extend his life a few more months.”

  I feared to ask, “How much time did they give him?”

  “Let’s put it this way; your next fight kid will be his last hurrah.”

  Even with my solemn vow of silence, I made a beeline to his office, “Izzy, how the fuck could you do this?” With an unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth, he stuck his head out the office door, “Ralphie, couldn’t you keep ya goddamn mouth shut?” He turned to me, “Look, kid, don’t say anything. All you have to concentrate on is da fight, and I mean nothing else!” He grabbed the cigar from his mouth, “Tiss guy you’re going to face is world-class, and when you’re in da ring against tiss type of fighter; if you’re not a hundred percent, he’ll tear ya a new asshole.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  There’s no yeah; there's no but. Are ya really ready for tis?”

  “Of course!”

  “Well now, then don’t ask no more questions.” He grabbed the cigar again for effect and put his mushed-up nose close to mine, “I will push ya to places ya never thought existed. You can beat this bum, ya got me?” He then retreated and sat on the corner of his desk, “Kid, when I’m done with ya, you will go through tis guy like a knife through shit, and by the end of next year, you’ll be fighting for da title” He then slammed his fist down on the desk, “That is, IF YA GODDAMN LISTEN TO ME! Now get out here and skip rope for fifteen rounds!”

  I got up; the only thing I could think of was the impossible image of fighting without Izzy. I choked back tears. The idea never crossed my mind, and even now, it was impossible to fathom. Knowing Izzy the way I did, I could never mention this again.

  *****

  I opted to walk home from the gym; the idea of Izzy dying was beyond my comprehension. A caddy suddenly came swerving towards me, nearly hitting me. The door swung over, and Chee-Chee jumped out. “Hey, Ant, how’s it hanging?” The way the car came upon me, it startled me. I regained my composure, “Hey, Chee-Chee, what’s up?”

  “I might ask you the same question?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Hasn’t your ears been burning?”

  “Chee, cut the bullshit?”

  “I ran into Vito, and he was talking some hate
ful shit? Did you come onto his girlfriend?”

  “Are you kidding? Carla and I were having a simple conversation; he flipped out. After so many years together, I thought he would know better.”

  “Well, he’s going around and telling guys that they better keep their goomatas behind locked doors. He claims you stole Gia from that guy in Red Hook, and you tried to glam Carla.”

  “Fuck him; it’s all bullshit!”

  “Do you want me to reach out to him and try to broker some peace talks?”

  “You know Chee-Chee; I can’t deal with this bullshit right now…that’s all it is…bullshit!”

  As Chee-Chee got back into the caddy, I knew there was something dark about the conversation. If the friendship were still on the table, it would have been Sonny coming to me. Chee-Chee, on the other hand, offered a veiled threat.

  *****

  Everything was spinning out of control; the brutality and violence of the ring seemed like a relief from it all. I was too young, I was feeling sorry for myself, and that wasn’t like me. I then remembered I had Gia.

  I loved movies; they offered such relief. I didn’t go for the sake of high art. Instead, it was about pure escapism. This would be the first time I was taking Gia; we decided to go to the Marlboro to see a new flick named Saturday Night Fever. I couldn’t wait! This was a movie about my neighborhood, my music, come to think of it, this was a movie about my life!

  We settled into the balcony. The theatre was packed, it was the premier, and all of Brooklyn was there. As the previews began streaming one after another, the audience became restless. Popcorn, bonbons, and jujubes started flying, and the kids began chanting louder and louder for the start of the movie.

  The old theater was chockful of cugines and cuginettes. The moment John Travolta sauntered down 86th Street with a can of paint in one hand and two slices of pizza from Lenny’s in the other, every one of us turned to the nearest person and said the identical thing, “Yo! it’s about me!”