Albert, on the other hand, never seemed to take notice of us; his world was more complicated and iniquitous. His sins were more profound and much darker. His principles were honed in an age long gone by, and to us, the everyday schnook pounding the pavement, he seemed almost mythic. He had no need for us, he did not seek to covet what was others, and for that, I came to admire him. Had I taken the bait, hook, line, and sinker?
That evening, he offered advice that came with no strings attached, “Anthony, you took quite a beating. Are you sure you want to continue?” Albert was fearsome in his own right, so for me to speak with any hint of bluster would have been foolish, “No sir…”
“Please, call me Al.”
“Thank you, sir, I’ve thought about it long and hard, and I feel that I have left a part of me in that ring. I can never live down the beating he gave me, and I will never be able to accept the fact that I was so close at the end.”
A reflective Columbo slowly stirred his espresso and through the constant haze of cigar smoke, he peered into my eyes. He was going about the process of undressing me, peeling away the layers, prying into a depth I kept very private, even to myself. His fingers pricked and poked its way, hunting the truth and stripping me naked. Columbo was a nefarious being, borne of the street, a man who could reach deep inside and find a person’s hidden weaknesses. With the silent probe of my psyche rendered, he leaned closer and muttered, “You are far wiser for your years than I expected.” Then, without touching me, he grasped me tightly and drew me in even closer, “You love my daughter, don’t you?” Frightened, I shook my head in affirmation. He continued, “I know, but your love for her has opened an unwelcomed door for you. You can now see a new existence, a wonderous life, together with Gia, loving, and caring for each other.” Then without a hint of where he was going, he drove his point home, “Gia is special, not because she’s my daughter. She is beautiful, but that’s not what makes her so different. She has a heart, and when you spend enough time with her, it rubs off on everyone she encounters.”
“I know, I love your daughter with all my heart and soul.”
“My question to you, Anthony; has that heart, one full of kindness and compassion, now rubbed off on you?” He pried opened my eyes, “If it has’ can you still find that killer instinct that you so desperately need to win?” His tone then became ominous, “This tutsoon will test you in this next fight unlike any before. He now knows where your weaknesses lie. You must find that will to kill again, but I fear that your love for Gia has replaced that thirst for blood with a want of comfort and pleasure.”
He was spot on; in a few brief moments, he had stripped me bare and identified my most glaring frailties. He had articulated in a way, unlike any gangster I had ever encountered. His words would cause me to look deep inside my soul and find that killer instinct that had concealed itself during my last bout, and drag it out.
That was the first and last serious conversation I would ever have with Columbo, and it left me with a profound question, could I become that beast once more, or would I cower yet again and become the prey?
Part 2
Brooklyn. A Secluded Block.
“Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night;
Give me my Romeo; and, when I shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night...”
Romeo and Juliet
--William Shakespeare
Chapter 11
Good?
No matter what crimes filled our city, what wars raged around the world, even if the Yankees beat the Red Sox; the front and back headlines of New York’s newspapers harkened only about the .44 caliber killer. By now, every corner of the five boroughs knew well of his handiwork, and they had branded him a new identity, the Son of Sam.
There was an evil connotation to that name. This sick maniac had taken the hearts and minds of every New Yorker hostage. He had gone way beyond just toying with the ever-frustrated Police Department and had begun facetiously writing to a newspaper columnist named Jimmy Breslin. In one particular, somewhat nonchalant letter, he referred to Breslin as Jim and wished the police the best of luck in capturing him. This lunatic had the audacity to offer to buy the entire New York City Police Department new shoes if they caught him!
He anointed himself with such depraved titles as "The Duke of Death," "The Wicked King Wicker," "The Twenty-Two Disciples of Hell," and worst of all, "John 'Wheaties' – Rapist and Suffocator of Young Girls.”
Even the wiseguys became disturbed; Danny Gallo ordered his men to be on guard. He instructed them, that at night, while they went about their business of crime and mayhem, to keep a close eye on the neighborhood and grab anyone who didn’t look on the up and up. During the first few nights, an unfortunate black kid who left work late at the car wash on 4th Avenue along with a divorced father of two, both got grabbed and beaten senseless. No apology was offered, and both had the presence of mind to keep their mouths shut and not to go running to the law.
The fear had taken its toll on the nightlife. Friday and Saturday nights found Romeo and Juliet’s along with other clubs nearly empty. It was rumored the killer favored long dark hair; short blond wigs became an instant fad. Every parent in New York was trying to keep their kids from going out; some even threatened to tie their child up! Loving each other in a parked car, the pastime of Bensonhurst, was on the endangered list! Who was next?
*****
“I have faith in ya, kid! I really do! If I didn’t, I would never have sought a rematch, not for no money!”
I needed to hear that from Izzy. Since instructing Izzy to schedule a rematch, doubts had crept back in. “Kid, that last round, your punches were sharper, crisper; I could hear his screams every time ya hooked him to da liver!” He looked up towards the ceiling, “Those hooks, they were tings of beauty I tell ya.” Scratching his chin, he seemed puzzled, “Kid, what took ya so long? What’d the hell where ya waiting for?”
I knew Izzy was right, but it wasn’t the ferocity of my jabs and hooks that concerned me; it was Weeden’s! In all my life, no one ever punched me harder. At one point, he hit me so hard in the head; I thought he broke my ankles. His punches reached down deep to a place where I hid all my doubts and fears in a fragile glass box. The force of Weeden’s blows shattered it, setting them free. I now struggled to capture them and put them back where they belong.
The fight was scheduled for Saturday, July 30th, only six weeks after the first bout, barely enough time for my body to heal. When I questioned the closeness between the fight dates, Izzy raged, “What’s da problem? Don’t you remember, Robinson and LaMotta did it!”
“Robinson and LaMotta? I don’t even think my parents were alive for that!”
The enormous buzz around the rematch forced the promoters to move it from the Forum into the Garden; now this was big time! The Garden was the setting for the epic Ali versus Frazier battles. If that wasn’t incentive enough, I don’t know what was?
*****
Gia wasn’t about to change the way she felt, and the last fight didn’t do much to quell her uneasiness. We sat together in her father’s living room, away from the rest of the world, and had a profound discussion. She understood I could never live the rest of my life if my last foray in the ring ended in such a demoralizing fashion. Hell, I was so close to the title, I could taste it. Since grammar school, I’ve only focused on one thing. I rationalized to her, “Wouldn’t it be great to be married to the champion of the world?”
Money and glory weren’t crucial to Gia; her love had a deep, ever-flowing savor to it that made everything else fade from vision. It was a devotion t
hat was palatable and almost visible to the intended. Her love was the type of deep passion that you could grab and hold tightly. To say that ours was a once in a lifetime love affair might be egotistical. Yet I felt that few could understand the depths of emotions I enjoyed.
That being said, to now ask my love a self-serving request, to sit ringside and bear witness to another blood-soaked clash, was cruel, but necessary for me to be victorious.
That evening we made our first appearance together at Romeo and Juliet’s as a couple. It was also the first time I ventured out since my first defeat. No matter, the neighborhood knew of my impending rematch, and for most of them, I was still the champ.
The glimmering lights of the club amplified her beauty. We wandered over to the bar where Bobby Gems already had my seven on seven at the ready, “Here you go, champ.” His attention turned towards her, “My God Gia, you look stunning. Without you two, the club hasn’t been the same.” His words seemed genuine as he leaned back, “You two as a couple? You guys are like the King and Queen of Bensonhurst!”
I didn’t need my ego stroked, but Bobby’s comments weren’t far from the truth. All eyes were on us, and I wouldn’t disappoint.
I held her hand and asked her to dance. I gently twirled her before pulling her into my arms. Danny Pooch knew just the right song to play. As the sweet sounds of the Bee Gees resonated throughout the club, I looked deeply into her mahogany hued eyes. Here were two boundless pools of inconceivable emotion for a man to get lost in forever. She set my soul afire. The setting was perfect for two young lovers as the melody disclosed to me what I already knew;
More than a woman
More than a woman to me
I had lived and fought a solitary life, and now to be around her was like being reborn again - as if all my life, I'd been locked away, isolated in a windowless room--
Here in your arms, I found my paradise
My only chance for happiness
And if I lose you now, I think I would die
--a desolate place where I might perish without her. All my life, I didn’t understand such a person might exist, yet here she was. I desperately needed for her to know now and forever – “Gia; my mind, body, and soul are yours for eternity.”
The onlookers knew they were witnessing true love, maybe for the first time. This neighborhood of ours needed to hold and nurture us; respect, and protect us. There would never be another love like this again.
Caesar waved us over, in the corner reserved for only débuts and debutantes, our table awaited. We sat ever so close; I could feel the warmth from her body; it was irresistible. What was left, but for us to live our lives together, I would allow nothing to ever come between us.
Yet, as though this was a Shakespearean tragedy, evil lurked within the room. Off in a dark corner was Louie Baldassari, along with tough-guy Jo-Jo Restelli. The word on the street was that Jo-Jo had been “made,” and the two were out celebrating. In the mob, being made was equivalent to being born again, you are officially a member of a family, and no one could touch you.
Louie was like a caged hyena hiding in the tall grass just waiting to pounce. He wouldn’t have to wait long; his chance would be at hand as I needed to go to the restroom.
The moment I left the table, Louie went into action, looming over Gia, who was now alone. “Well, well…what do we have here?” Louie hovered over Gia while Jo-Jo was not far behind.
Gia remained mute, as Louie rambled on, “So I see the little fucking whore has decided to screw this piece of shit who cold-cocked me.”
Those words lit a fire within Gia, “You deserved it! He hit you fair and square.”
That was all Louie needed to lose his cool, he grabbed Gia by the arm and yanked at her, trying to get her to stand! Jo-Jo whispered in his ear, “Oh, Louie, be careful, that’s Albert Columbo’s daughter you’re roughing up…not exactly a good idea.” You see, Jo-Jo had all the benefits and enjoyed the amenities of a hoodlum’s fraternity, but not old Louie, he was still outside the fence looking in.
As if on cue, I came out of the restroom and charged at Baldassari, who this time saw me coming, he reared back and threw a punch with all his might. I ducked and hit him with a violent counter that landed him on his ass! Ari Finkleman, with a teen in tow, rushed over to my defense, “I’m a lawyer, I saw the whole thing.”
Groups of onlookers from both sides grabbed us both and held us back. Louie began bellowing, “Jo-Jo, get him! Kill him!” Restelli just stood silent, he knew better. I hadn’t thrown the first punch and had every right to retaliate.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, materialized Angelo Terranova, Danny’s right-hand man. Both being wiseguys, Jo-Jo and Angelo greeted each other warmly with a kiss on the cheek and a handshake, and off they went to a secluded corner, while they held Louie and me at bay.
In hushed tones, they hashed out the disturbance. Jo-Jo came back and with no explanation, motioned to his embarrassed comrade, “Come-on Louie, let’s go.”
“What the fuck do you mean; let’s go?”
“Louie, did I stutter when I said it?”
“Fuck that; she’s coming with me!”
At that, Louie lunged for Gia as I wrangled myself from the hold of the crowd and attacked. Angelo grabbed at me; I calmed down; I knew better. Louie, on the other hand, did not. He continued his tantrum. As people tried to hold Louie back, Jo-Jo got right into his face and slapped him. In the street, a slap with an open hand was more damaging than a punch! It was an insult, the thing a man did only to a woman!
Make matters worse, Louie forced Jo-Jo’s hand, having to strike him in front of the enemy’s camp. Jo-Jo had enough; this was supposed to be his graduation celebration. He grabbed Louie by the collar and dragged him out of the club. Meanwhile, Angelo pulled me aside, “This guy’s nuts, and I seriously doubt this is going away quietly.”
“Is that what Jo-Jo said?” Angelo’s eyes widened in disbelief, I was a civilian and to question what two made men said was beyond belief. What they said in private was always secret! “Listen to me, kid. Danny and I will go down and straighten this out. Don’t ask me why, but this butta’ gazz’ is well-liked on Columbia Street.”
Columbia Street was where the Cassaro crew hung their hat. Angelo continued, “You know, not for nothing; you should come down to the golf store and thank Danny for everything he’s done for you!”
Ladies and gentlemen, there it was! Angelo had dropped the bait in the water, and Gallo would set the hook. What exactly had Danny done for me? I was quite capable of dealing with Louie on my own, but Terranova was also intimating their retaliation for my uncle. I hadn’t asked him to murder for my uncle, but this is how it happens. Now, as Angelo so subtly suggested, I am to pay homage to Gallo over espresso and a cannoli, while they slipped the noose around my neck. They would then own me for eternity.
At that moment, in that place, I had to hold my tongue. I nodded, not overtly acknowledging his overtures. It left me with a feeble chance of deniability. Nonetheless, Angelo left happy, feeling that their trap was set.
Returning to the club anytime soon was not advisable; it hurt me. I loved it so. I asked Gia if she was ready to leave. She grabbed me and held me tight, she too understood what had gone on and feared for me. Even her father could not help; according to the laws of the street, Danny and Angelo were well within their rights. They would meet an intervention by Columbo with an order to stand down and mind his business.
In that world, this simple phrase, “I was with Gallo,” held all the weight of the world. I was of Danny’s neighborhood, and therefore, coupled with his contrived acts of assistance, he was well within his rights to wrangle me in and claim my life as his.
I needed some alone time with Gia
; her embrace was healing. As we passed her house, we could see in the window that dark silhouette of Albert holding court over his minions, so we opted to park around the block, on lover’s lane.
Gia knew I had done nothing wrong; I defended the honor of the woman I loved. But I think deep down she felt that she needed to explain Louie’s acts of desperation. “Anthony, Louie means absolutely nothing to me.” By merely uttering his name, I felt twangs of jealousy, but I needed to restrain myself. “I know Gia; you don’t need to say anymore.” My hidden resentment was growing more rambunctious by the moment; Oh yes, she does!
Gia knew that I was being disciplined and restrained, “Look, Anthony, we went out for a few months. At first, it was good…”
Ouch! Did she need to be that forthcoming? That word ‘good’ cut me to the quick. Jealousy began to boil over, so to prevent her from observing an immature meltdown, I abruptly asked her to leave. It puzzled her, “But Anthony, I’m trying…”
“Gia, it’s been a long night for both of us. Just go home, and we can speak tomorrow.”
She realized I was hurt and made a mistake by being so forthcoming. At that moment, any more pleasantries concerning their abbreviated relationship were about to drown my ever-so-delicate teenage psyche. The immature section of my brain was now on overload! Whirling around and around and producing fictitious images of Gia embracing Louie!
“Look, Gia, just let it go for now.”
She slowly got out of the car and ever-so-gently closed the door. I watched her stop twice before she turned the corner, looking back to see if I drove off in anger. I hadn’t. Instead, I watched her from my side mirror, and as she disappeared--her image was replaced by an odd form off in the distance.
Say Goodbye and Goodnight Page 12
