by S. W. Frank
Nosy people were coming. The kid hurt him pretty bad.
The man made it to his car and sped away leaving Alfonzo bleeding and wobbling toward his mother’s brownstone. Alfonzo experienced labored breathing and his grip loosened. He slid to the ground. His strength had swiftly dissipated and he began to feel light headed. Someone yelled his name as he slumped to the hard smooth cement trying to remain awake. His vision blurred and he found it impossible to focus. His body went limp and he lay there unmoving drifting in and out of consciousness.
He wished he could tell mami not to cry, he wasn’t worth it.
The street finally exacted its justice in blood. Karma. The payment for his sins became due and he grimaced. The blue eyes fluttered open, his cheek kissed the sidewalk and he turned ever so slightly to peer above at the million specks of lights which began to fade then were extinguished by the black sky, like his dark soul. He welcomed the dark with a smile; glad the pain finally ceased.
* * *
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Hi dear,” Gina Palazzo said then kissed the wrinkled cheek of her ailing husband.
In a weak voice he asked, “Where have you been?”
She opened a window. The opulent room smelled of urine and feces. She vowed to fire the housekeeper. The feeble-minded woman was told to put fresh flowers in the vase daily. Those instructions were disobeyed!
Gina’s blond hair was coiffed in a fashionable chignon. At age fifty-three she looked ten years younger. False lashes raked over her husband with hidden disgust. He should be dead, instead, he continued to fight the cancer and spoil her plans for wealthy independence. Tired of living in the shadow of billionaire developer Luzo Palazzo, she craved independence!
Luzo directed his cousin Carlo Dichenzo and that weasel attorney Alberti, to keep an eye on her. If Luzo suspected what she’d done, death would be her punishment; therefore she continued the pretense of a loving wife. She sat on the bed and rubbed his hand, “I attended a charity function in New York for The American Cancer Society,” she smiled, “I gave a sizable donation on your behalf. You’re to receive honorable mention in their literature.”
This pleased Luzo, “Good…good, especially since I am going to America in the morning to see a specialist at Sloan-Kettering.”
“America,” her eyes widened in surprise, “Luzo you cannot travel, you are too ill!”
“It is arranged,” he answered with finality. The private jet would be waiting along with his nurse, Alberti and the Serano twins. Details he did not share.
“Then I am going with you.”
Luzo became weary. He must move in haste before the cancer attacked his brain. Fiery blue eyes did not waver, “You will remain here, Carlo will visit tomorrow with very important business documents and you must receive them.”
The mention of Dichenzo silenced any further protestations, “Of course.”
She rose and flitted through the door leaving him in his sick room. The stench sickened her. She traveled the wide spiral staircase to the main floor in search of the housekeeper and found her in the laundry room. “Why are there no fresh flowers Lisette?”
“Signore Palazzo asked me to take them away.”
Gina frowned, “His room has an awful stench, go clean it now.”
The woman sat the towel atop the basket and hurried off.
“Lazy woman!” Gina scowled.
She was in a foul mood, her trip abroad was for nothing!
In a fit of rage she marched outdoors to the garden. There were several bodyguards patrolling the huge estate. She noticed one in particular, Nico standing nearby having a smoke. He extinguished it in the decorative flower pot and she marched over. “My flower pot is not an ashtray.”
The handsome and massive bodyguard did not smile. He never smiled. He never showed any emotion. She attempted to seduce him on many occasions but he always walked away as if she were nothing more than a wisp of wind on the Italian hillside. Nico was her husband’s personal bodyguard, someone who might prove to be a formidable ally if she could win him over. Instead his loyalty remained ironclad like some devoted dog to its master. Pity! “Did you hear what I said?”
Dark, cold eyes swept across her face, “Your statement didn’t require an answer.”
She stepped forward inhaling the strong masculine scent of his earthy cologne. He was a man she would love to have in her bed. A dangerous and exciting lay by the appearance of his sensual mouth. Nico was a man who could pleasure her immensely, she could tell. “Signore Palazzo is dying and soon your services will no longer be needed…unless you choose to stay on with me.”
For the first time there was a glimmer of mirth in the cold eyes and a tug at the corner of the sensual mouth, “I am not a boy Signora Palazzo and your whorish ways aren’t enticing.”
She quickly raised her hand to strike his smug face but he caught it in mid-air and she spat, “Bruto!”
“Never raise your hand to me again. I give you respect because you’re Luzo’s wife but I don’t tolerate abuse, it upsets me and I like to stay calm. Sai?” He released her arm and watched her spin around indignantly then march back into the house.
Gina fumed, Nico was the worst. Her advances and bold flirtations failed to work on the handsome bodyguard. She’d tried on many occasions to find his weakness but apparently, the brute was made of stone!
CHAPTER TWELVE
Domingo lay sprawled on the sofa engrossed in a video game when gunfire erupted. He looked out the window. Down the block were silhouettes tussling, then they toppled to the sidewalk. He strained for a better view of the action but beneath the dim streetlights it was hard to see. However, one man resembled his cousin Alfonzo. Without hesitation he hurdled over the coffee-table and raced out the door followed by his young brother Manuel.
Alfonzo was in trouble!
Maria ran from the kitchen, on her tail were Carmen and the girl’s.
The noise interrupted their cooking conversation.
“Que paso, donde es Domingo y Manuel?” Maria asked her lone nephew who stood on the sofa peering out the window.
“Yo no se!” Rafael exclaimed, “Somebody shootin’ and Domingo ran out.”
“With Manuel?”
“Manny went, too,” The eight year-old added.
“Aye Dios, mi loco hijos!” Carmen shrieked.
Minutes later Manny returned panting, “Alfonzo’s shot!”
Maria screeched loudly and ran outdoors. Police sirens filled the block and multi-colored lights illuminated the dark street. Domingo cradled a bloody figure in his lap and shouted for an ambulance. Her feet were lead as she ran toward them and as she drew near her heart screamed. “Aye! Aye! Aye, Madre de Dios!” She shrieked falling to her knees beside her fallen son.
Alfonzo’s beige Oleg Cassini shirt was stained a dark mahogany color and it clung to his body like a wet T-shirt. She cupped Alfonzo’s cold face. ‘God please don’t take my only child…take me God…take me!’
The handsome young face was battered. Blood poured from his head and she wiped it, smearing the sticky substance across the prominent cheekbones of his father and wailed when he did not respond to the touch of his mother.
Domingo moved aside when the paramedics arrived and sat their equipment on the ground. One spoke to Maria asking her to step back so they can assist her son. She did and stood nearby wringing her hands anxiously as they worked. He frowned, it didn’t look good. His cousin’s face was extremely pale. He had the look of death.
Hold on cuz…hold on!
“We got a faint pulse!” The female medic shouted to her partner. She administered oxygen while her male partner cut away Alfonzo’s clothes.
He inspected the extent of the injury. “We got two gunshot wounds, looks like the left clavicle and lower right flank.”
Domingo spotted detectives pointing at something. He moved within earshot and listened.
“This looks like one of the weapons.”
“We need to sort out whether he�
��s a perp or victim.”
“Eyewitnesses say he’s the victim. He visits his mother regularly and apparently someone tried to mug him.”
“We’re still going to need a statement, that’s if he makes it….”
“Looks like he injured the perp…we better notify the hospitals in case anyone tries to get medical attention for gunshot or stab wounds.”
Domingo recognized Alfonzo’s knife by the carvings on the handle.
‘Good work cuz you got that sonovabitch! Alfonzo never used that blade unless he intended to kill.’
Alfonzo’s limp body was loaded on a gurney then in the ambulance. A police escort was provided in case he awakened and could positively identify his assailant.
Maria stayed at Alfonzo’s side. She groped the beads at her neck in solace. Must Alfonzo suffer for the sins of his father? Could this be God’s punishment for her sins? Her eyes swelled with tears as medics continued to work on her boy as the vehicle swayed back and forth as they careened through the streets sirens blaring. She thought of the little baby who weighed a mere six pounds at birth. He was once a good baby. He had a quiet disposition and joyous smile but then he changed when he became a teenager. He began to fight in school, stayed out late with thuggish friends, started smoking weed and a host of other things she disapproved of. She’d tried everything to curb his rebellious spirit with little success. Her brother Al intervened and tried to be a surrogate father. Alfonzo needed his real father but it could never be…no…never.!
Memories of the past emerged. Oh, she was young and foolish in her youth and trusting. The young man lying motionless on the stretcher began asking about his father in Junior High School when pre-teens experience the effects of peer pressure. She told him half-truths about his father because she did not want him to know...her shame.
To a child it is important to know their parentage, it’s vital to their identity but Maria did not want her son influenced by his father’s lifestyle or acquaintances. To prevent further inquiry she told Alfonzo his father died. Alfonzo never questioned her. She hated to lie to her son. She hated Luzo.
As a maid in a upscale hotel in Manhattan she spent time around the rich and envied their lifestyle. This was the first of her many sins. She met Luzo Palazzo there, a tall handsome and charming businessman. It was love at first sight. Days before check-out he offered her an enormous salary caring for his villa in Europe and placed a business card in her hand, “I pay well and you will have free room and board,” he said convincingly. Finally, after careful consideration and speaking to co-workers who affirmed Luzo’s reputation as a respected international businessman, she accepted the job offer and left New York City for a new opportunity. She arrived in Palermo, Italy and Luzo showed the unsophisticated city girl Italy’s famed tourist attraction and the beautiful countryside. With the exorbitant salary she could send money to America and help her family. Good intentions on her part, but his were not.
“You will have access to the Mercedes and I will give you an expense account. Since I travel frequently I do not get to enjoy my own villa,” he said.“ However, when I return home I like my home warm and smell fresh flowers.”
After a year of his calculated seduction she began to fall in love with her charming employer and committed the ultimate sin. She gave herself to him many times. She enjoyed his lovemaking and most of all she envisioned a life with him until she discovered the truth about Luzo Palazzo.
He was married.
She returned home in disgrace, unmarried and pregnant. The unpleasant lamentation was interrupted by anxious voices. “He’s losing too much blood, call it in, we need a trauma team on stand-by.”
The driver radioed the dispatcher, “Male…early twenties…penetrating trauma secondary to a gunshot…”
The medics expressions were intense as they tried to tamponade the bleeding and assist his ventilations using a Bag Valve Mask. She saw Alfonzo’s chest rise each time they squeezed the device. She clutched tighter at the rosary beads. I must keep faith!
Maria marveled at the medical workers cool composure as sirens crackled and they were jostled every time the vehicle bounced over potholes. Within the confines of the ambulance the medics maintained equilibrium and worked to keep her son alive. Several times the female paramedic glanced in her direction with a reassuring smile. This gave Maria hope, a rare commodity in this season of loss. She prayed for the workers, and she prayed for strength.
Domingo followed closely behind the ambulance. Heavy traffic failed to yield to the emergency vehicles despite their incessant sirens.
Only in New York!
He watched the ambulance turn south on first avenue to Metropolitan Hospital. He maneuvered abruptly to avoid a yellow taxi which stopped suddenly to pick-up a fare. “Fucking asshole!”
The ambulance disappeared around a corner and he sped to close the distance and roared toward the illuminated EMERGENCY sign which stood like a beacon of hope or tragedy, depending on the nature of the visit. He double-parked without regard and hurried through the unlocked doors of the hospital in search of the Emergency Room main door. Tonight, a sense of dread grew like limbs on a vine. Alfonzo had the look of death. He’d seen it when his friend got killed, and the night grandpa died. Alfonzo was more like a brother than a cousin. They were born nine months apart and did almost everything together. He couldn’t imagine losing his best friend. He’d lost enough. Abuela, Abuelo, Tio, several friends and now Alfonzo. No, he couldn’t deal with another loss of someone he loved. He dialed Raul’s cell, “Yo, Alfonzo’s shot…I’m at Metropolitan Hospital. Tell Chino to get over to the spot and hold shit down. No sales tonight. Lock shit down!” He instructed .
Security approached, “No cell phones can’t you read?”
“No!” He said with sarcasm.
“Smart-ass.”
“My cousin was brought in by ambulance.”
“What’s his name?” The security asked noncommittally.
“Alfonzo Diaz.”
“Wait here.” He walked away.
The guard returned, “You can’t go in yet.”
“What, why not?” Domingo bellowed.
The security guard returned to his post without answering. He kept a watchful eye on the thug. These street guys were nothing but trouble!
“Maricon.” Domingo cursed.
Ten minutes later the entire family converged upon the hospital waiting room. They were a large bunch and boisterous as they waited for word about their loved one. Finally, the security guard allowed him inside the Emergency Room. “Only one person can go in,” he said to the other family members as they tried to enter with Domingo.
Aunt Maria talked to a man in blue scrubs and Domingo joined them listening intently as the doctor described the severity of Alfonzo’s injuries.
“Your son is in critical condition with two gunshot wounds. We‘re going to take him into surgery once the anesthesiologist arrives.”
“Where is he shot?” Maria asked.
He pointed to his body, “ One bullet exited through his right side, the other bullet grazed his shoulder. We’re concerned with his head injury and we’re monitoring the swelling on his brain.”
Maria wailed then cupped her mouth, “Dios!”
The man in scrubs continued, “We‘re going to do everything we can to save your son.”
“How long y’all gonna’ wait for the anesthesiologist?” Domingo enquired.
The doctor answered, “He‘s on his way now.”
A plump nurse approached. “Excuse me Dr. Moore,” she said, “the anesthesiologist is here.”
The surgeon nodded then turned to the family, “He’s here.”
They were asked to accompany the nurse over to the Nurse’s Station where she collected Alfonzo’s medical history. Nurse Langer saw hundreds of trauma cases a month involving gunshot wounds. Gun violence in Harlem was prevalent among young minorities and the fatality rate a cause for alarm. However, the Mayor failed to recognize this growing epidem
ic. An urban genocide was her summation and until statistics for Caucasian victim’s equaled or surpassed those of minorities, nothing…absolutely nothing would be done about it. –And so once more here she stood with another distraught family taking information on a twenty-three year old man with a slim chance of survival judging by the extent of his injuries.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Stop talkin’ shit, you messin’ around with the wrong dude.” Jay said between puffs of weed. He felt nice and Carlos was killing the high.
Carlos leaned back in a worn leather chair. Jay’s bedroom was sparsely decorated with a twin bed too small for his six foot, two-hundred pound frame.
Carlos took a hit and passed the blunt back to Jay and continued the unilateral conversation, “Yo, the blue-eyed motherfucker’s out of commission. He’s been the hospital for a while, trust me his spot’s vulnerable.”
“So what you sayin’?” Jay asked already knowing the answer.
Alfonzo was out of commission and Carlos being an opportunist wanted to hit his spot. “We gonna’ rob the motherfucker. Y’know grab some g’s and shit.”
“We can help find the dude who killed those people and collect the reward, that’s what I’m thinking.”
“Yo, that ‘aint happening Jay. Word is that shit was a mafia hit. Not NYC motherfuckers either, nah…the real Italian crew. Whoever his uncle messed with, man he fucked up royally.”
“When you talkin’ about doin’ this shit?”
Carlos sat forward, he finally got Jay’s attention and continued the bait, “I heard through a reliable source he got five-hundred g’s in bearer bonds.”
Jay looked puzzled, “What the hell are bearer bonds?”
“The shit’s like cash, just lighter to carry.” Carlos rubbed his hands together, “Just think about it, if Alfonzo can throw a mil to the wind think about what he got stashed away. Yo we gotta’ move, now. I’m talkin’ about tonight, you down or what?”
