The Union

by Tremayne Johnson

  They heard some shuffling towards the back of the house.

  He could hardly get the words out. “Yeah… I’m…I’m in the bathroom.”

  When Mox and Frank turned the corner, the bathroom door was wide open with a gaping hole in it like someone kicked through it. Cleo was on the floor holding Susan, who looked to be either sleep or dead.

  “What the fuck?” Mox tucked his gun back in the holster and ran over to the bathroom. “Yo Frank, check the house and make sure nobody else is here.” He looked down at Cleo’s bloody hands and Susan’s beat up face. “What the fuck did you do, Cleo?”

  “Mox, I’m sorry…” His face was full of tears and Susan’s blood.

  Mox snatched a towel off the rack and threw it on the floor, so he wouldn’t slip in the glass. He bent down and put two fingers under Susan’s chin and felt for a pulse.

  “She’s still breathing. We gotta hurry up and get her to a hospital. Cleo, get up!”

  Mox and Frank carried Susan out to the car and put her in the back seat with Cleo. Frank got behind the wheel and they rushed through the moderate traffic. They made a right onto Amsterdam and then a left onto 135th street and ran almost every light until they reached the Harlem Hospital Center.

  Mox pulled Susan from the car and waved down the ambulance that pulled up to the emergency entrance. The two EMTs got Susan onto a gurney and into the emergency room without delay. Mox couldn’t stay and give any information, so he hopped back in the car and they took off.

  After a ten minute ride on the highway going back uptown, Mox told Frank to pull into a White Castle’s parking lot on Westchester Avenue. He jumped out, pulled the back door open and Frank tried to stop him. “Mox, leave him alone.”

  “What the fuck is wrong wit’ you, Cleo!? What you do to that girl?” Mox dragged his 300 pound frame out the backseat like a bag of laundry.

  Cleo didn’t even put up a struggle. He just cried. “Mox, I’m sorry…”

  “Yo, Mox, it’s a lot of police out here tonight. I think we need to keep it movin’.” Frank was trying to avoid any more problems because they already had enough to deal with.

  After Cleo got back in the car, they continued on the highway to New Rochelle.

  “Frank, drop me off on Huguenot so I can go see Ms. Davis.”

  “Got you.”

  “And keep this nigga wit’ you. Don’t let him out your sight.”

  __________

  Vito downed his last shot of Johnny Walker and got off the bar stool he was sitting on. He checked his watch, smiled and thought about his late night rendezvous that would take place within the next hour. He hadn’t gotten laid in almost a month. Actually, more than a month.

  Tony slid down the bar with a washrag, wiping up spilled drinks and peanut shells. He stopped when he reached Vito. “Boss, you taking it in early tonight?”

  “Yeah, I got a hot one, Tony.” He fixed his sweater and tapped his pocket to make sure he still had cash on him. “Twin blondes,” he cheesed.

  “A regular stud ain’t you…” Tony laughed. He just knew Vito was telling one of his routine lies. But not tonight, for the first time, he was actually telling the truth.

  “Go head and makes jokes, Tony… ‘cause in about twenty minutes I’ll be bangin’ two 20 year olds from the back on a bum knee. You’ll be at home… by yourself, of course, drinking stale beer and slammin’ lil’ Sammy there in your pants. Ha! Now make sure you lock up on time,” Vito turned to exit. “And don’t rip the skin off your dick tonight, Tony. Take it easy!”

  “Fuck you Vito!” Tony threw the washrag and almost hit him in the back.

  Jimmy had been sitting in the limo, parked in front of Vito’s for the last twenty minutes waiting on him to come out.

  Vito jumped in the backseat and tapped on the partition. “Jimmy, take me over to the Ritz Carlton, Three Renaissance Square.”

  The limo peeled off and he sat back stargazing on the adventure he planned on having with the twins. He envisioned all the different positions he would have them in and the thought alone aroused him. He needed to get ready.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded hundred dollar bill. He opened it up and dumped the white, powder like crystals onto the back of his hand and then he vacuumed it right up his nostrils. The rush was immediately electric and numbing. The feeling was euphoric.

  He sat composed and let the high potency drug run its course through his blood stream as he relaxed in paradise. When he finally looked out the window to see where he was, they were just passing the Ritz Carlton.

  “Jimmy, where the fuck you goin’? You passed the place.”

  He kept it steady down Court St. and made a left onto East Post Road and then pulled over and parked behind a black van.

  “Jimmy, didn’t you fuckin’ hear me. I sai—”

  The partition came all the way down. “I no think Jimmy hear you, my friend.” Papi lifted Jimmy’s stiff body from out the passenger seat and Vito saw the dime sized bullet hole that sat in the center of his forehead with a streak of blood flowing down the bridge of his nose. “I no think Jimmy hear nobody, my friend.”

  Vito fumbled, trying to grab the pistol off his waistline, but when the door came open, he fell into a state of shock. Like a deer caught in bright headlights, he couldn’t move.

  Nate was standing in a black suit, gripping an AM-15 sub machine gun. “Too late Vito.” He let the machine gun blow, and fire shot from the nozzle like a torch. The sub sounded like a jackhammer going off in the middle of the night and Vito caught every bullet that came out of it. He fell to the limo carpet and half of his body was hanging out the door. His blood was splattered throughout the back of the car.

  Nate looked down at Vito’s bloody corpse and kicked him over to make sure he wasn’t breathing. “Papi, vamanos!”

  Papi emerged from the driver’s seat, tossed Jimmy’s hat and jacket back in the car and him and Nate got in the black van that was parked ten feet away and burnt the road up.

  __________

  Mox stepped out the black 500 Benz and walked into the Avalon apartments at 255 Huguenot Street. He gave the desk attendant a fake name and told him he was visiting someone one the ninth floor, but he took the elevator to twelve. He tapped on the door that had 12K on it and waited for someone to answer.

  An elderly female voice came from behind the door. “Who is it?”

  “Hello, Mrs. Davis… It’s Mox. I’m Priscilla’s friend.”

  The lock clicked and the door slowly came open. The older woman standing before him had a familiar face, one that he recognized. Mrs. Davis had a few more wrinkles, but for the most part, she and Priscilla looked just alike. They were both beautiful and even in her old age, she carried a delightful semblance.

  “Look at those eyes.” She shook her head. “Come in, Mox. I was wondering when you would stop by.”

  He stepped in and gave Mrs. Davis a kiss on the cheek and then followed her into the living room.

  The apartment was a modest one; bare, eggshell colored walls, a micro fiber couch and loveseat, a 32 inch flat screen television sitting on a stand against the far wall and tall plants in each corner of the room.

  Mrs. Davis went into the kitchen and poured Mox and herself some water. She sat the two glasses on the table along with a white envelope that had his name on it and took a seat on the couch. Mox rested in the loveseat next to her.

  “Well, it’s a pleasure meeting you, Mox. I haven’t heard too much about you, but I do know that my daughter loves you.” She smiled and sipped her water. “You see that picture over there?” she pointed to a photo on the T.V stand. It was a picture of him and Priscilla the day Mox brought his 430 CLK. They were leaning against the car, parked in front of the dealership. “Whenever Priscilla walks through that door, the first thing she does is pick that picture up and dust the frame. She loves her some Mox.”

  He got up to look at the picture. He had only seen it one time before this. “I love her too Mrs. Davis
. That’s why I’m here.” Mox picked the picture up and stared at it. A recollection of that day materialized in his brain. It felt like it had just happened.

  He saw how happy Priscilla was and then he thought on how weary she had looked the last time he’d seen her. He wanted to cry. He wanted to fall out and snivel right there in the middle of Mrs. Davis’ living room. His heart was sore and contorted because he believed his self-centeredness may have been the cause of her stress, and down the line she didn’t make rational decisions.

  “Have you heard from her?” He asked.

  “In the last year, I got two letters from Priscilla. One was mines…” She pushed the envelope on the table closer to Mox. “And this one is yours.”

  He picked it up and ripped it open:

  Mox,

  I am not writing this letter to apologize for anything I did in the past. If I did it, it was meant to be done. You left me when things got rough and I tried. I tried my hardest to hate every bone in your body, but I couldn’t. It’s just something that’s not allowing me to have any type of animosity towards you and I can’t even explain it.

  When I found out I was pregnant with Brandi, I was overjoyed. I wanted the chance to speak to you so bad. I wanted to tell you that we were going to have a child, but that never happened.

  For six long years I wondered what was going on with you. I didn’t know if you were dead, sick or what. I was lost without you, Mox, and it never even crossed your mind that someone on the outside, who truly loved you, was concerned.

  Leaving all that in the past; today is a new day and I now have a clear and precise outlook on my life. I’ve been in this rehabilitation center for the past few weeks and things are going pretty good. I’m looking forward to coming home and seeing Brandi. How’s she doing?

  Mox, if it’s not too much to ask, my mother’s rent is two months past due and I’m not able to take care of her the way I was when I was there. We don’t get along, but I did make sure she had a roof over her head and food in her refrigerator. Whatever you can part with, will be appreciated.

  I should be coming home any day now. The counselors in this program are helping me find an apartment, get a job and enroll back into school. I’m excited. I can’t wait to start over and I also can’t wait to see my babygirl.

  Things are different now Mox. Maybe there’s still room for US.

  Love you! And see you soon!!

  Priscilla,

  P.S. Tell my baby I love her and give her a HUGE kiss for me.

  Mox put the letter back in the envelope and sat down. “Mrs. Davis, I got something I need to speak to you about.” He wasn’t prepared to tell her, but he had to. He was thinking maybe she could help the process go a little smoother. He breathed deeply. “I don’t know if Priscilla told you, but she left Brandi with me and there’s a little problem now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mox got straight to the point. “I had someone babysit Brandi while I was working and this particular person’s house got raided by the police. They found drugs and money in the apartment and CPS took Brandi.”

  “Oh, my God… Mox you have to get her back. Priscilla will go crazy. Oh, poor baby. I know that little angel is scared.”

  “I know. That’s part of the reason for me coming here. I need your help.”

  Mrs. Davis stood up. “If it has anything to do with Priscilla or Brandi, I’m sorry but I can’t get involved.”

  Mox was stunned. How could she say something like that? This was her blood. “I don’t understand. This is your granddaughter I’m talking about. I would go get her if I could, but my name isn’t on her birth certificate. It has to be immediate family. If you go in there, there’s no way they can deny you. We can go get her today.”

  The distressed expression on her face wasn’t the one Mox was looking for. “I’m sorry Mox, I can’t. A long time ago Priscilla told me to stay out of her and Brandi’s life… and that’s how it’s been since that day. It hurts, don’t get me wrong. I love my daughter and my grandchild, but that’s a road that I refuse to travel down again. Priscilla may not have told you how tainted our relationship is, and I’m not going to get into it. If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you, but what I will say is, we’ve never had a good standing between us and that’s just what it is. I wish it was different, but it’s not.”

  He tried to understand, but he just couldn’t. “So, you’re not gonna help me?”

  “Mox, the only thing I can do for you is pray and have faith in God because he always does the right thing. Sometimes we may ask why and other times we even doubt him, but trust me, if you have credence and you admit him into your life, he will heal you and guide you down that path of rectitude and spiritual bliss. Then, and only then, can you begin to understand why things happen the way they do.”

  Religion was something Mox never really delved into, although during his incarceration he did thumb through the Bible a couple of times and study a few scriptures out of the Quran, but he wasn’t too keen on acquiring the knowledge of a single creed. His sharpest memory of God had been the prayer he heard before he saw his mother and father’s ravaged bodies.

  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.

  He had memorized the prayer from that moment on. To him, it meant if he admitted his wrong doings to God, he wouldn’t be judged, but forgiven and cleansed of sin.

  Mox got up to leave. There was nothing more he could say. He gave Mrs. Davis a hug and a peck on the cheek. “I have no choice but to respect your decision. I wish things were different between you and your daughter, but I see that’s something you and her have to handle.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of one-hundred dollar bills and a piece of paper with his name and number on it. He counted out two thousand dollars and put the money and his information on the table.

  “If you ever have a change of heart, I’m only a phone call away. The money is for groceries and anything else you need. I’ll make sure the rent is paid until Priscilla comes back so you don’t have to worry about that.

  “Mox, thank you, but I can’t take your money.”

  He smiled and opened the door. “You got no choice.”

  SEVENTEEN

  The teeming rains cascaded from the dusky, grey clouds that loomed in the air on the pained friday morning of Vito Telesco’s funeral. It was a spectacle. The bosses from all five families were in attendance, including a number of immediate family members and friends who were there to show support to each other in a time of grief.

  Vinny’s wife, daughter, and son stood alongside him under large, black umbrellas, shedding tears and watching as they lowered the $12,000 gold trimmed casket into the ground. Vito’s final resting place would be the St. John’s cemetery in Middle Village Queens, NY where a private mausoleum held the body of one of the most infamous crime figures in history, Salvatore (Charlie) “Lucky” Luciano.

  Domenic Conte, the boss of the Gambino family walked over to Vinny before everyone left the cemetery. He was wearing a long, oyster colored trench coat, shiny black shoes and a matching fedora. He grabbed Vinny’s hand and kissed both sides of his face. “Mi dispiace (I’m sorry) Vinny, little Vito was like a son to me. I remember when he was born, God bless him. Hey,” he moved in closer to whisper in Vinny’s ear, “hurry up and take care of this fuckin’ thing before it gets outta hand. I don’t wanna get involved.” He patted Vinny on the back and went to get in his car.

  Mikey saw the strain all over his father’s face. “Pop, you okay?”

  “I just had to bury your brother, Mikey. What do you think?” Vinny opened the limousine door and got into the back seat.

  “Well, if you need me to do anything, just let me know.”

  The back window came down and Vinny scowled. “I want their fuckin’ heads Mikey, all of ‘em… Mox, Cleo, the mother, brothers, sisters, cousins… whoever got the same blood running through their veins
is fuckin’ dead!” he spat. “You better handle this Mikey and I’m not joking around.”

  The window went up and the limousine rolled away.

  EIGHTEEN

  The Charles K. Post Treatment & Rehabilitation Center in Brentwood, Long Island is where Priscilla had spent her last 90 days. After Ryan humiliated her in the street, she kept her promise and signed into the program in order to make a change for the betterment of her and Brandi’s life. She was fully aware that at the pace she had been running the streets, it wouldn’t have been too much longer before she would have gotten locked up and or even worse, killed.