Animus

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Animus Page 5

by S. W. Frank


  “Hmmm, I think you’ve done more than that.”

  “Ah, stop being the bad-boy for a minute. I’m grateful you’re protecting us. Thank you for being Alfonzo’s guardian and my friend when I didn’t deserve the sacrifice. Hurry back unharmed. Many love and depend on you.” She smiled. “Too bad you’re not a woman and maybe it wouldn’t have complicated our friendship.”

  He chuckled and went for the opening. “You know girlfriends aren’t immune to falling in bed. Licking tit, clit and ass is sex too, you know.”

  “Oh be quiet,” she scolded. “You know what I mean. We haven’t talked in a while because we’ve accepted what we did is wrong. But, I haven’t stopped caring about your well-being. Right now you have a beautiful baby and a loving family that’s going to need you. Paint a family portrait and include your image. Matter-of-fact, since you bring up this Mafia Regina nonsense, I demand you make this a gift for Ari. Even within ugliness, beauty exists. Paint her a picture from your passionate heart. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Nico’s chest expanded. He understood perfectly. Cristo the donna’s wisdom existed in abundance. “Grazie, donna. Io sono il vostro amico fino alla morte.”

  Selange became frustrated. “Oh come on Nico, stop testing my language skills, I’m not as good as Ari. Translate, please.”

  “Thank you woman, I’m your friend until death,” he said with the patience of his father as he withdrew a jeweled bracelet from his pocket which he placed on the crumpled sheet. “By the way, Alberti wanted you to have this. He said I’ll know when to give it to you.”

  The bracelet was an antique or a replica, she couldn’t tell. She picked it up. It was heavy, solid gold and thick as a wristband. There were African carvings. The hieroglyphics were delicate and she squinted to see the symbols lining the edges. The penny size gems in the center appeared authentic and she looked at Nico for help to decipher their meaning, but he was silent with his head down and staring at his feet.

  Nico was an abstract painting, opposing swirls of color, a dichotomy of darkness and light, shadows on the border of an unfinished canvass. Or, maybe the painter’s strokes led one to believe such is the case. Selange saw beneath the layers. Nico’s heart hid an artist, battling to breathe. She had a soft spot for Nico, because like Alfonzo he is what destiny crafted. The small joys Nico failed to grasp, Alfonzo seized. Love’s warmth can melt ice caps, this she believed and judging by the love she saw when he had mentioned Ari; the glacier of a man had begun to mellow.

   She held Alberti’s gift lovingly. The memento from the deceased meant a lot. She respected Alberti and receiving the heirloom touched her dearly. She was Giacanti and not an outsider. She asked, “Is this…Semira’s?”

  The dark head rose and Nico’s expression held extreme tenderness. “Yes. Semira Afizwusi. Royalty, the embodiment of love and beauty, a nurturer, peacemaker and teacher, she is you.” He stood and kissed Selange’s forehead. Their deep friendship didn’t require words. Amity confined in a hidden chamber, sealed away from prying eyes remained strong fibers of steel. He’d taken oaths and given few; the one made to protect is the duty he must now honor. “High-tower and fulfilled is also the meaning of the African name Semira. I’ll return and paint because it is ordained that I do so and not because you’ve commissioned. I have to go, take care of yourself Mafia Regina.”

  “I will,” she promised and the moment he was gone she climbed slowly out of bed. She wanted to see the baby born of love and to visit Ari.

  The guard followed a pace behind as she boarded the elevator to the maternity ward. There were soldati here too, large men with eyes in many colors, cast in stone. They nodded in deference as she passed and she acknowledged each with an appreciative smile. These were men with families, ready to die at her husband’s request and it pained her heart to know many had and forever will.

  When she entered the room, Ari’s lovely face radiated warmth and Selange’s smile was genuine. “Hi, congratulations. I came to see the baby.”

  Ari pointed to the crib against the wall. “She’s sleeping but go right ahead.”

  Selange sauntered over and peered down at the bundle. Pink and rosy like a flower, puckered mouth moving in an unconscious suckle is the glory she met. A tear fell for her loss of what may have been and she wiped it away to speak in a loud whisper for Ari to hear. “She’s gorgeous Ari…beautiful.”

  She did not hear the ruffle of cloth from Ari’s robe or the gentle footsteps come to her side until she felt an arm around her waist. “Thanks. I heard what happened and I’m so sorry.”

  The splintered hurt of loss, Shanda’s leaving; the misery of a woman bereft over life’s circumstance caused rolling rivers down bruised cheeks, burning them into an inferno of heat. “It was supposed to be a happy day Ari…”

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

  “Oh girl, I am so sorry.”

  “And then the shooting and now Giuseppe might not make it and Shanda’s run out –again!”

  “That little bitch!”

  “I’m disappointed she’d do that to him…” Selange’s lip quivered and she faced Ari. “You have been so nice and I don’t deserve it…”

  “Come on, don’t start with that. I know we had a rocky introduction but I’ve gotten past a lot since then.”

  “Thanks for being there at my wedding…and forgiving me.” She hugged the lovely older woman and laid her head on Ari’s shoulder to cry. “If I had a sister, I would want her to be like you.”

  “As long as you keep your hands off Nico, we’re cool. If we’re going to have any relationship, there are ground rules. Keep your hands off Nico and your legs closed. If you get any more of your episodes, call Alfonzo. Heck, you can even call me if you want, all right?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good!”

  Selange sniffled, feeling ridiculous for being so emotional but the past few days made for a weary spirit. She didn’t have a mother to run to or a sister and Ari was the next best thing. “Is it okay if Nico and I speak to each other?”

  “Hell no!”

  Selange’s stricken-face and innocent eyes were so adorably annoying, Ari had to laugh. “Oh my goodness cut it out already. Nico is Alfonzo’s cousin and your paths are bound to cross. I’m not naïve to think you won’t ever talk. Now, anything beyond that is grounds for an ass-beating, got it?”

  “Got it, but it’ll never come to that Ari.”

  “Good.” Ari grinned. “Anyway, aren’t you supposed to be in bed recuperating?”

  Selange sighed. “I’m feeling better, plus I can’t stay in that bed anymore. I want to go home to my kids.”

  “I’m sure you do, that’s probably why you’re having the waterworks.” The attorney’s lip curved wryly. “I’m going to make a confession, I literally wanted to beat your ass for a long time, but I had to take some blame when it comes to Nico. By not saying anything about his womanizing, he thought he had permission to whore around as he pleased for many years. I hadn’t put my foot down because I saw it as a man being a man and I knew he loved me and didn’t love the other women, but you were the exception. I saw he cared too much and that’s what hurt the most and prompted me to finally take a stand. What happened has made our love stronger. Nico’s more attentive and he keeps his promises. He’s there for his boys and me, which is all I ever wanted. I have Nico the way I want him. The weird thing is I’m not stressed anymore. Sure I miss my job a little, but what I’ve gained is much more fulfilling –happiness.”

  A woman like Ari could never sit idle. She was an attorney, they’re competitive, love a challenge, analytical and have debater brains. “Well, don’t hang up your lawyer cap yet. I’m going to need a pair of legal eyes overseeing the foundation, incognito of course but that’ll keep you busy wherever you are and I’m sure you’ll spot whatever I miss.”

  “Oh, after this dust clears, bring it on. I’m already eager to dig in.”

  “Dea
l and you’ll receive ample compensation.”

  “You’re talking my language,” Ari said enthusiastically at the prospect of putting her skills to use.

  Selange’s eyes were mischievous. “I’ll figure out how to transfer untraceable payments to you for your services.”

  The eyes of a shark met the hazel gaze of barracuda. “Oh, funneling money is my forte, haven’t you heard? But, don’t worry I’ll instruct you when it’s time for me to get paid.”

  “Oh it’s going to be fun working with you,” Selange stated, glad to have a female ally in business. “By the way, when are you and Nico going to make it legal –again?”

  Then the bombshell dropped. “Oh sweetie, you’re late. We remarried before the baby came.”

  Selange laughed and immense joy eradicated any sorrow. “I am happy for you both. Congratulations Ari.”

  “Thanks,” Ari replied. Her smile became that of a big sister when she surveyed the abrasions on Selange’s face. She stepped away and removed a jar of cream from the bedside stand. “Here, start putting this on your cheeks, it’ll help heal those bruises. It really works on stretch marks too.” She showed Selange her stomach and it was smooth. “My mom has used it for years and so have I.”

  “Wow, where does she buy this?” Selange asked examining the jar’s ingredients.

  “The islands, but if you need more, let me know and I’ll hook you up.”

  “Thanks Ari…thanks for everything.”

  “We’re trusted family going forward. No backsliding. I’ve come to love these guys too. Family will fight, then they’ll make-up and band together. That’s what you and I have to do. Now, go rest and stop crying yourself sick over Shanda. Let her grow up, the woman’s thirty-something years old. And rest assured whoever caused this bloodshed, Nico will make them pay!”

   

   

   

  CHAPTER SIX

   

   

  Nico spotted his nephew. Heck, the damn man had stepped right into a crisis instead of keeping his nosy ass in Puerto Rico. Long strides brought an angry Uncle to the end of the hall where men blocked Sergio’s progression.

  “What are you doing here Sergio?”

  “I came to see you and the fam. Is Alfonzo alright…what happened?” Sergio asked.

  Nico was outfitted for a hunting expedition. The clothes were plain and functional. The cap, tinted shades and stubble obscured his features. Nico’s backpack was fastened tight, loaded with everything he needed for the excursion.

  Sergio’s attire however, screamed flashy American. The designer logos and obsession with being noticed were traits of the boastful. Even Sergio’s duffle bag had a label boldly etched for all to see. Nico scoffed. “I’ll take care of this,” he informed the guards and they returned to their posts. He looked at Sergio. “Come with me.”

  Sergio skipped-jogged to catch up with Nico because once his Uncle’s legs started moving he was gone. They went out the door which read USCIRE.

  How could anyone as muscular as his Uncle have such agility, he wondered? Sergio trailed a full landing behind and it’s not like he wasn’t trying to catch up. They passed sinister men on every landing, watchful and not one moved. They just stood there and Sergio got the chills the dudes looked so damn mean. When he reached Nico at the ground level, Nico went straight into giving instructions like a drill sergeant. “I’m going out the door ahead of you. Give me five minutes and then I want you to come out, walk swiftly to the black car parked in section D-nove in the southwest section of the lot and get your ass in the passenger seat. Got it?”

  “Yep.”

  Nico hoped he did. He didn’t want to risk the photographers snapping pictures of him and Sergio with their zoom lens. The kid talked too much. Nico went out the door and Sergio checked his watch. Five minutes seemed long. His leg wiggled and he anxiously tapped his foot until it was time to go. He hurried out and looked for D-nove. He initially walked in the wrong direction and remembered Nico said southwest. He found the car where Nico waited with a scowl. “Didn’t I say southwest, so where the hell were you going?”

  “I got mixed up.”

  “I see that, now buckle-up, we’re taking a long drive.”

  “Where to?”

  Nico was out of the parking lot, passing thin rows of vehicles and when they reached the security booth, he braked and spoke rapidly to one of the guards there. Sergio didn’t understand a lick of Italian which allowed Nico to speak freely, “Nobody gets in this lot other than family. Make sure you circle and check the cars thoroughly. Stay alert and don’t slack off, I’ll be back, capisce?”

  “Sí.”

  Satisfied, Nico drove away. They exited the rear of the hospital where more reporters set up camp. Nico zoomed by. None of the photographers had an opportunity to see their faces or get a picture. The less traveled route is what Nico took to escape the congestion. He didn’t need a map or GPS device to travel around the province. Sicily was his home. Nico knew every piazza and who’s who in the comunità. Many of the locals heard of Nico Serano, but very few actually met him. Nico and Vincent’s ruthless reputation hadn’t garnered many friends. Fear is often what occurred if anyone recognized the brothers, which is why Nico frequently changed his appearance.

  Sergio chatted as the wheels bounced over old roads and Nico repeatedly switched gears to navigate inclines and sloping streets. He occasionally commented on the scenery or asked questions such as, “Does everybody here drive a stick shift?”

  Nico failed to answer. He steered briefly aligning with other cars and then racing ahead through openings in traffic. Light drizzle sprinkled the windshield on a partly cloudy day but cars sped anyway. The rain season had begun. Many kilometers later, Nico asked, “How’d you get here?”

  “The invention of airplanes helped.”

  “I didn’t know you owned a passport.”

  “Well, I do. I travel you know.”

  Nico switched lanes. “Yeah, where?”

  “Puerto Rico for one.”

  “Anywhere else beside the Commonwealth?”

  “Puerto Rico, didn’t you hear?”

  Nico chuckled. “Puerto Rico’s a Commonwealth world traveler.”

  “Ah, stop fucking with me Uncle and tell me where we’re going and why people are shooting up the family.”

  “I’m surprised you forked out money to fly here for family you barely know. Kind of makes me suspicious.”

  “Suspicious?” Sergio waved a hand. “You’re suspicious of everybody. I heard the news and flew here. Besides, how’d it look if I showed up for work this morning when my co-workers know I’m related to the boss?”

  “You came to keep up appearances then, not because you care.”

  “See, I hate when you do that shit. Stop twisting my words.”

  “You hate me speaking logically?”

  Sergio’s agitation showed. “There’s nothing logical about how you think.”

  Nico’s cell buzzed and he pushed a button on the dashboard to activate the safety feature in order to keep his hands free. “Buongiorno, andare avanti.”

  Thankfully, the swift response came in Italian. “Sono appena arrivati.”

  “Quanti?” Nico asked.

  “Tre.”

  “Grazie,” he said and pressed SPENTO.

  “So, are you going to tell me how Alfonzo’s doing or what?”

  “He’s alive and kicking,” Nico answered mechanically. His mind was elsewhere.

  “I bet whoever did the shooting had a beef with Giuseppe’s wicked ass.”

  Nico wasn’t listening. He exited and raced west. “You said you wanted to be down with family or something to that nature, you still want in?”

  “Hell yes!”

  “First you have to pass the Vincenzo Test.”

  “My dad’s test?”

  “The one and only. My brother liked breaking in soldati especially the smack talking guys.”

 
“He did?” Sergio inquired. He didn’t know anything about his father and anytime Uncle Nico talked about him, Sergio went silent.

  “Yes and he got a kick out of it, too.”

  Sergio smiled wanly. Too bad he didn’t get to meet his father. He heard some really good things about him from Alfonzo. His dad was an excellent shot, he also liked cracking jokes a lot, which Sergio found interesting because he did, too. But, it’s his dad’s bravery that inspired pride in a son. There’s a part of him that wanted to impress his Uncle. He believed Nico’s abrasive attitude stemmed from disappointment or maybe even embarrassment that his brother had such a useless kid. His mom called him, ‘useless’ whenever she got mad. The put-downs were the norm and he began accepting the worst about himself, but here was an opportunity to prove her wrong and to show his Uncle his worth.

  They finally pulled onto one of those quaint stradas, which Sergio considered old architecture, solid bricks and stones. There were local businesses, several elderly men and women strolling along actually carrying bags of groceries with breads and leafy greens peering out. Funny, the images were just like the pictures in the magazines he looked at on the flight. Friendly, slow paced, neighborhoods filled with culture, wine, food and smiles. Only thing he disliked is they said Italians ate late. Their average family ate dinner around eight o’clock, hell in the United States people were often finished by six. He actually dug what he saw thus far of Palermo; it had an old school feel which he liked.

  He didn’t have time to soak in the scenery for long because Nico returned to the drill sergeant stint. “Here are the rules. One, you have fifteen minutes to complete the test. Two, any mess must be sanitized. Three, no conversation giving real names or any personal information which can lead back to family. Four, don’t steal anything. Five, you’re on your own once you step out the car.”

  “Well, it’s nice to know the rules, but what the hell is this test on?”

  Nico opened the glove compartment, took out a pen and paper and scribbled an address. “See that panificio with the blue awning?”

 

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