by Ws Greer
He tries to shield his face with his hands, but it does nothing to stop the impact of the meat cleaver on the side of his face. When he falls, there’s more blood on the floor, and his cheek looks like a fleshy mess. It looks like his jaw is out of place, too, but I don’t feel bad. I drop the cleaver and grab the envelope as my father and I walk out together. I make sure to leave the sign flipped to Closed.
When we get in the car, I can feel my father staring at me as I close my door.
“What?” I snip.
“You did good, Dominic,” he replies with a wide grin. “You did real good. There’s three things I need you to take from this, though. One: don’t ever fucking jump in my way ever again. If I’m kicking the shit out of some stronzo for being late on his taxes, I don’t care if he’s been dead for twenty fucking minutes, you don’t get in my way. Ever. You understand?”
“Yeah,” I reply, afraid to look up at him now. “Sorry, Dad.”
“Number two; when you hit that guy, you splattered blood everywhere and got some on your shoes. Now, I’m gonna have to explain to your mother why you got blood on your fucking shoes. So, get a rag out of the glove compartment and wipe that shit off before it stains permanently. If you’re gonna keep coming with me, you’re gonna have to learn to protect yourself from shit like this. Always clean up your messes.”
I reach into the glove compartment and pull out the rag while he keeps talking.
“And three; what you did in there was a thing of beauty,” I stop wiping the blood from my shoes and look at him. He’s smiling from ear to ear. “That guy could’ve hurt you real bad with that meat cleaver, but you did what you had to do. That’s it, Dominic, you have to act. You didn’t let your thoughts get in the way of what you needed to do. And the way you told him your name . . . fucking genius. I wish I would’ve thought of that. That asshole is gonna remember that for the rest of his life, and that’s exactly how it should be. I’m proud of you, Dominic. You made your old man proud in there.”
Now it’s my turn to smile. I know it seems odd for my father to tell me he’s proud I hit a guy in the face with a meat cleaver, but my dad isn’t like other dads. My dad’s a gangster. He knows I know it, too, and he doesn’t care because he knows it doesn’t bother me. No matter how many people I’ve seen him beat up over the years, he’s still my dad, and he’s the only hero I’ve ever had. My dad’s a gangster, and I’m proud of him. I’m proud to be his son.
“Thanks, Dad,” I reply, still grinning as I lean forward and get back to work on my shoes.
My father opens the envelope and counts the cash right there in the parking lot. I hear him let out a sigh of frustration.
“Fucking peanuts,” he snips, grinding his teeth together as he counts the money. “Look at this shit. How am I supposed to earn on little shit like this? How am I supposed to get upped like this? I’ve gotta show that I’m an earner, and this ain’t gonna cut it!” He stuffs the money back in the envelope and shoves it into the glove compartment. “I’ve gotta get with the guys and work on a bigger score, because I’m just not doing it big enough with these little shops and delis. I’ll never be a capo this way.”
After all the time I’ve spent with my father over the years, I know what it is he’s trying to achieve. He wants to be promoted to a more powerful position in the family he’s a part of. It means more to him than anything, and I know the only way he’s going to be promoted is if he makes a lot of money and proves to the bosses he’s a good earner.
“Sorry, Dad,” I say to him. “I know how bad you wanna get upped, and I know you’ve been working on it a long time. It’d be different if you could make the casinos downtown pay a tax. Ten percent on them would be way more than ten percent from Lorenzo.”
My dad slowly turns his head and looks at me with eyes bigger than saucers.
“What did you just say?” he asks, and I’m instantly scared to answer.
“What? Nothing, I was just talking.”
“Casinos. Tax the casinos.”
He doesn’t say anything else for another thirty seconds, but I’m too scared to break the silence, so I wait for him to do it.
“You’re a fucking genius,” he says, but he still has the big eyes. “All those expensive casinos and hotels in downtown St. Louis. That’d be the biggest racket the Giordano Family has ever seen, especially if we can reel in two or three of them. That’d take a big fucking crew, and we’d have to be extremely organized, but if we pulled that off, it’d be huge. Holy shit, Dominic, you’re on a fucking roll tonight!”
My father finally starts the car and drives away. Luckily Lorenzo is unconscious or the cops would’ve been here already.
As we leave the parking lot my father turns to me again.
“I’ve got an idea of my own,” he says before turning his eyes back to the road. “We’re gonna make a little trip, okay?”
“Okay. Where are we going now? It’s not another collection, is it? Because I just got my shoes clean.”
“Nah, it’s not another collection. I’m gonna introduce you to some people. Some friends of mine. That okay with you?”
I nod my head. “Sure. Of course.”
As we drive on the highway back towards St. Louis, I can feel it. Everything I thought I knew is about to change.
Alannah
“Alannah, wait up.”
I hear Dominic yelling for me as I walk down the hall towards the exit. School just let out, and now I have the luxury of waiting for my dad to drive from his job to come get me. Yay me. Luckily, Dominic has to wait too, so we get to spend some time together before we go home. His mom usually shows up before my dad does, though.
I turn around and watch as Dominic strides across the tile floor towards me. He smiles when we make eye contact, and everybody else in the hall disappears. He’s different now, in a lot of ways. Something has definitely changed about him over the couple of years we’ve known each other. For one, he’s much more confident lately. He carries himself with a certain pride that’s really obvious. He’s always looked like he has no fear, but now it’s different. It’s like he knows there isn’t a thing in the world that can touch him. He’s not arrogant, but he carries himself like he knows something the rest of us don’t. He doesn’t have a fear in the world.
Dominic’s also growing into his body. His shoulders have filled out and his lips don’t look too big for his face anymore. Nobody’s calling him Ugly Dominic now that we’re in junior high. His jaw is chiseled, his lips are full, and he has way more muscle than anybody else his age. He isn’t ugly. I’m not sure what I’d call him, but it definitely isn’t ugly. Those days are over.
“Hey, how was your last class?” I ask, as he catches up to me and we start towards the doors.
“Ugh, fucking stupid. Mrs. Shelton should not be allowed near kids,” he replies with a grin—the grin I’m starting to find myself liking in a way I didn’t used to. We’re both thirteen now, and Dominic is starting to talk and act like he’s twenty already. He’s definitely the most mature guy I’ve ever met, cuss words and all.
“Mine was dumb, too,” I reply. “Having Mr. Harrison for my last class just sets me up to be depressed for the rest of the day. He’s so annoying and monotone.”
“Oh yeah, I have him for first period. I blame him for my days being shitty.”
The two of us walk on the green grass and sit down at a bench in front of the parking lot. It’s a beautiful day outside with the bright sun shining in our faces making us squint. While Dominic settles himself on the seat and looks out at the road to see if his mom’s coming, I take a second to just look at him. His posture is big and bold, his clothes don’t have a bunch of brand names on them, but they’re really nice—a little too old-looking for his age, but it’s fitting, given Dominic’s demeanor and maturity. He carries himself like a guy who has already graduated from high school and now he’s just visiting, feeling above it all. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t look good on him.
“Mom ru
nning a little late today?” I ask, drawing his attention.
“Nah. Ma’s not picking me up today,” he says, still looking out at the road.
“No? Your dad?”
He smiles, but he doesn’t look at me. He’s smiling to himself. “Yeah.”
“Spending more time with him, huh? Usually it’s just the weekends.”
“Yeah, well, the arrangement between him and my ma has changed a bit. He wants to come get me and spend more time with me now.”
“What changed all of a sudden?”
He looks at me like he’s thinking about something I’m not supposed to know. I can see it in his face—that look you get when you’re wrestling with what you want to say next.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I jump in before he can say anything.
“I know, but I kinda want to.”
“Okay.”
Dominic turns his body towards me and leans in like the conversation just became our little secret, so I lean in too.
“You’re my best friend, Alannah, you know that?” he says quietly.
“Yeah, I know. You’re my best friend, too, Dominic,” I reply, a little thrown off by the start of the conversation.
“Good. We’ve known each other a while, and we’re best friends, so if I tell you something, you’ll keep it a secret, right?”
“Of course I will. You’re honestly freaking me out a little.”
“It’s nothing to get freaked out about. I told you a little bit about my dad, right?”
“What do you mean? Like, what he does?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, you told me he’s a business man or something.”
“Well, he is, kind of. My dad’s a part of a family in St. Louis that conducts business together. I’m still kind of learning about it all, really, but the reason my dad’s gonna be coming to get me more is because I kind of started working with him. Well, for him, I guess.”
“You work for your dad?” I ask, frowning. “How is that? You’re only thirteen.”
“I know, but it’s not like it’s flipping burgers at McDonald’s or something. I’m just doing little stuff for him and The Family, and I get money from the stuff I do.”
My frown is still holding on strong. “So, what kind of stuff do you have to do?”
Now it’s Dominic’s turn to frown. “I can’t really say, mainly because I’m not really sure yet, but the stuff I have to do . . . isn’t always good.”
“What? What do you mean it’s not good? Like, illegal?”
“Sometimes . . . I guess.”
“So, your dad does illegal stuff, and now you’re doing illegal stuff with him?”
“Look, the only reason I’m telling you is because you’re my best friend in the whole world, and I like that I can tell you stuff about me. Stuff that nobody else knows. So, I don’t want you to judge me. I don’t need that. I just want us to be able to tell each other everything. That’s what best friends do. Right?”
I pause for a minute to let all of his words sink in, then I answer. “Yeah, that’s what best friends do. I’m not gonna judge you, Dominic. I told you when we were in fifth grade, I only care about how you treat me. And I promise not to tell anyone. Ever.”
He smiles at me and I feel butterflies in my stomach, although I’m not sure why.
“Good,” he says, just as a dark red Cadillac turns into the parking lot, and he grabs his backpack as he stands.
“Is that your dad?” I ask, marveling at the nice car with the tinted windows so dark I can’t see inside.
“Yeah. I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow, Alannah,” he says as he starts walking towards the car.
“Okay, see you tomorrow.”
As Dominic walks to the car, the passenger window slides down and I can see his dad’s smiling face. He’s got slick black hair and the same strong jaw as Dominic, but there’s something about him that makes me feel nervous. Even as he smiles at Dominic, he looks like a person who you want to be your friend, not your enemy. I guess that’s probably the same way people see Dominic.
I don’t know exactly what Dominic was talking about when he was saying all that stuff about his dad. I don’t know how he could be working for him when he’s only thirteen, and I don’t know what illegal stuff he was talking about either, but it doesn’t matter. Dominic really is my best friend, and there’s no way I’d say anything to anybody about what he told me, and nothing he said changes the way I feel about him or the way he treats me. We’ll always be close. No matter what.
Dominic
“I’m getting ready to go.”
“You’re getting ready to go where? Like, out?”
“Yeah, Ma has to work tonight, so my dad’s coming to get me here in a few.”
Alannah pauses for a moment like she’s surprised. I can basically see her scrunching her forehead and pinching her lips together like she does when she’s confused. I’ve always liked when she does that.
“So, your mom has to go to work, and your dad is about to come pick you up and take you into St. Louis? It’s, like, nine o’clock at night. I’m actually getting ready to go to bed,” she replies.
“Yeah, it’s weird, I know. I finished my homework for history just before my mom told me to get ready.”
I hear Alannah’s father come into the room and tell her it’s time to get off the phone.
“Well, have a good time, I guess. I have to go. Bedtime, well, at least for some of us it is,” Alannah says behind a giggle.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later,” I reply.
We hang up as I hear the doorbell ring. My father’s here. Time to go.
It’s really dark out here. I feel the gravel under my shoes, but I can’t see it. I even lift my hand to see if I can make out the outline of my fingers. I can’t. It’s too dark. The lights from the city are way down the road, so they’re doing nothing to brighten this area. It’s dead quiet, too. So quiet, in fact, I’m almost scared by it. Almost. I know what’s going on, and I know what I have to do, so I’m not afraid, I’m nervous.
I’ve never done anything like this before, and I don’t want to mess it up. I have to do it exactly right, or I could ruin things, so there’s no time for screw ups. I take a deep breath, because I think I hear a truck coming. I look down the road and see headlights coming towards me and the dust kicking up behind the big truck.
Here we go.
As the truck approaches, I kneel down in the road and put my hand in the air. I wave at the truck like I need help, and sure enough, it pulls over. It’s a Best Buy truck, probably on its way to drop off a bunch of electronics or something. I bet it’s loaded with stuff.
The truck stops just a few feet from me, but I don’t get up. I wait. I hear the door click open and the driver starts to get out, and that’s when it starts. Without warning, my father and his crew climb out of the shadows of the ditch and rush the driver with their guns drawn. The guy is completely caught off guard as they run up to him and my father immediately punches him in the face. The guy falls down right in front of me. We make eye contact and I see his face turn to complete terror when I smile at him and climb to my feet. I dust my knees off and make my way over to the back of the truck where my dad’s friend, Frankie Leonetti, is cutting the lock with a big pair of bolt cutters.
Frankie’s a big guy, and he honestly looks like he could be my father’s brother with the same slicked back hair. I don’t know much about him yet, except that he and my father are on the same level as soldiers for the Giordano Family. He chuckled when my father named me as an associate in his crew, and even said my dad was crazy for it, but in the end he was accepting and called me Boy Wonder, although I’m not sure why. Frankie gets the lock off and pushes the big door open.
“Would ya’ fucking look at that,” he says, his voice thin and high pitched. “Look at all this shit.”
Frankie shines a light into the back of the truck and illuminates all the DVD players, TV’s, and laptops anyone
could ask for. The truck is full of Best Buy merchandise, and the guys are ecstatic.
“Holy shit, Donnie, come look at this,” Frankie says, still staring into the truck.
“Don’t you fucking move, asshole,” I hear my father yell at the driver who’s still on the ground with a gun to his head. “You act up and you won’t make it off this road alive. Stephano, watch him.”
Some guy named Stephano walks up and takes my dad’s place watching the driver, while Dad comes to look into the truck with the rest of us.
“What a beautiful fucking sight,” he says with a bright smile on his face. “We hit a big one, boys.”
“Fucking right!” Frankie chirps.
The whole crew starts to laugh and pat each other on the back. I laugh, too, but out of the corner of my eye, there’s movement.
I look over and see Stephano laughing with the rest of us, but the driver he’s supposed to be watching is reaching into his pocket. I don’t think, I run over to the driver and kick him in the face, then I stomp his head three times for good measure before my father can pull me off of him.
“Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks.
“He was reaching for his pocket,” I explain. My father looks baffled, then he looks down at the driver who’s covering his face in pain. Dad pulls his gun from his waist band and kneels down next to him.
“What did I tell you? Are you trying to die out here on this road? Huh? You want me to fucking kill you out here? How about I give you a closed fucking casket so your mother never sees you again, you fucking cock sucker!” Dad hits the driver in the face with the pistol and I see a couple of his teeth fall out. Then my father stands up and directs his attention to Stephano. “And you, you fucking moron. I told you watch him, and you take your eyes off him so long my thirteen year old son has to come save your ass. You stupid son of a bitch!”
“I’m sorry, Donnie,” Stephano says.
