Romeo of the Streets (3 page)

Sal raised an eyebrow. For a kid of 20 years old, Eyeball really had a way of talking like one of the old timers, you’d swear he’d lived on the Orange Grove for a hundred years or more. “Who?” Sal said.

Eyeball smiled. “Louie the Mouth. Louis Guilianno. Junior Lou…”

Sal stared. Ferret furtively glanced between his best friend and his boss, gauging their reactions.

Finally Sal nodded grimly. “That little pissant? You don’t say…”

Eyeball began setting the deck again. “He did that little job for us last week, you know, the thing with the thing?”

“The liquor-store,” Ferret clarified and both Eyeball and Sal shot him an irritated glance that even he knew was a sign that he should just shut right up and let the other two do the talking from here on out.

“Yeah,” Sal nodded, “he actually surprised me with that. Didn’t think he had it in him. Still, I wouldn’t have used him for that if we had anybody else to get. Not with that damn coward of a father he had, that deadbeat asshole, I want nothing to do with the kid.”

“So,” Eyeball shrugged, “then you have nothing to do with him. Meet him once, weigh him up and then pass him on to me and Ferret. We’ve known Lou since we was boys. We get on well with him, right Ferret?”

“Yeah,” Ferret sniggered, “we like the prick. Sure we do. Hell, he buys us drinks all night when we hang out together.”

“What you doing hanging out with him?” Sal asked.

“Eh… keeping our ears to the ground is all, boss.”

Sal sat back and sighed. “What about this other guy he did the job with, what you call him again?”

Eyeball smiled slowly. “Romeo Mancini,” he said.

“Romeo?” Sal blinked, “what kind of name is that?”

Eyeball shrugged.

“Never heard of him,” Sal said. “Where’d this kid come from anyway?”

“He’s a New Yorker,” Ferret said, “moody asshole, thinks he’s a real tough guy. Friend of Chuckles Bonanno no less.”

“Chuckles Senior?” Sal asked, leaning forward.

“Nah, Chuckles Junior,” Ferret said, “the cousin.”

“Yeah but still,” Sal sighed, “that’s quite a connection. What’s he like?”

Eyeball shrugged. “I’d need a little more time to get a closer look, but he seems solid, not as flakey as Lou, maybe even make good membership material someday.”

Sal narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think about things like that.
I
think about things like that. You just think about what I tell you to think about.”

“Sure boss,” Eyeball shrugged.

“Still though, I knew that little Guilianno prick didn’t have the balls to pull that job off by himself. Get these guys on the phone. I want to meet Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee.”

Eyeball smiled, leaning forward. “I had a feeling you’d say that,” he said, “so I sent word before we even came up here. Assholes were on a date, you’ll be amused to hear…” He laid out fresh cards to his boss. “Big Blind to you,” he said.

Sal, Eyeball and Ferret all three, had their eyes to the main floor as the two young toughs stopped to ask the bargirl where to find the men in charge. She turned and pointed up to the VIP balcony and Sal smiled and gave a little wave down to his guests, the buzzing little flies flitting into his parlor. The Guilianno kid looked star-struck but the other guy seemed more level-headed and cool about being called to the meeting like this. He smiled wryly back up at them, as if in on the same joke, and nodded slightly. So this was “Romeo Mancini” then, the Bonanno connect from New York? He better have the brains to show the proper respect at least. This was Falcone territory and not only was Sal the local Capo, he was also connected by blood all the way to the top of the “family”.

The young men walked slowly up the spiral steps to the balcony, Romeo leading, with that faint disinterested smile never leaving the handsome youth’s face. “You must be Sal,” he said, reaching out his hand in greeting.

Sal looked him up and down from his place at the table. He didn’t get up. “How the hell you know I’m Sal, huh? How you know he not Sal?” He gestured gruffly to Ferret.

Romeo smiled wider, as if actually amused this time. “That’s Ferret,” he said, “I know Ferret… interesting guy. Dude can drink almost as well as a New Yorker.”

“Get the fuck outta here with that New Yorker shit!” Sal commanded, but even he was laughing now too. This kid was alright. “Hey, you know Chuckles Bonanno? Chuckles Junior? My cousin used to babysit him when he was in diapers, Gracie Falcone, you know her?”

Romeo shook his head slightly. “Nah,” he said, “but you know, some people say Chuckles is still in diapers. She still babysit for him?”

Ferret burst into laughter and even Eyeball smiled, but Salvatore narrowed his eyes. “That’s a made man,” he said, “you watch your mouth. You ain’t in the company, are you?”

“No,” Romeo said, “but Chuckles is a friend of mine, I meant no disrespect. If he was here he’d be laughing too. Trust me.”

“Alright,” Sal shrugged, “you want a drink? Sit down.”

He beckoned to the bargirl down below who always had one eye on the balcony in case they called for her and she hurried up the steps, lest she invite the wrathful words and temper that would follow if she served them even a second too slow.

“How’s that little gal you been running with?” Sal asked, cockeyed, considering Lou.

Lou blinked and swallowed, clearly surprised that Sal knew so much about what he was up to, let alone actually even cared. “Lisa?” he said, “good. She’s good.”

“Yeah? She go up to that CCU right? You work up there too, is that correct?”

“Uh, yeah Sal, just two nights a week. Gives me something to do… of course I’d much rather work for you.”

Sal ignored the comment. “What’s your girl study up there again?”

“Business and commerce mostly,” Lou answered, “stuff like that.”

Sal exchanged glances with Eyeball and Ferret and the three of them sniggered. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, she goes up there with my sister.”

Sal leaned forward, suddenly serious. “Sister?” he said, “Hell, I forgot you had a sister. She must be… how old now?”

“Nineteen,” Lou replied, “Sandy’s nineteen. It’s hard to believe. She grew up so fast.”

“Yes, she did,” Sal smiled. “Sandy Guilianno, nineteen. Imagine that…” he looked to Romeo suddenly. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Romeo, whose jaw had all of a sudden seemed to tighten to a tense, taut rigidity, shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, “it’s my ulcer.”

“Ulcer,” Sal said, “well what the hell you drinking scotch for?”

Romeo shrugged and then tipped up his glass, drained it and then placed it back on the table, his big dark eyes never leaving Sal’s face, almost as if the little prick was daring him to bust his balls a little harder. Sal decided to let it pass.

“Well,” he said, looking back to Lou, “all this is very interesting to me, because we’ve been thinking about going back to college ourselves, haven’t we boys? Maybe enlisting to teach a class or two—the school of hard knocks, maybe. What do you think, you fellas come to that class if we run it?”

Romeo shrugged, Lou nodded. “Sure.”

“That’s good,” Sal said, “that’s very good. You might just find yourselves a whole hell of a lot richer—if you play your cards right.”

“You know how to play cards boss,” Eyeball said, “that’s for sure.”

“Fuggedabout it!” Sal grinned and then turned to Romeo and Lou, “my luck’s been up all week. A sign from God maybe, I don’t know.”

Romeo and Lou exchanged glances and suddenly Sal decided he’d had enough of them. “Ok,” he said, “get out of here, we’ll be in touch. And tell that hussy at the bar to send Candy up here. I want to talk to her, ok?”

“Candy?” Lou said, “you got it.”

“Good boy,” Sal nodded and the two young men left the table.

“Arrogant little prick,” Sal muttered as he watched them leave, “Lou Guilianno, acting like a big somebody—if only that deadbeat father of his could see him now.”

“New shuffle’s up boss,” Eyeball said, directing Sal’s attention to the deck, “fresh cards on the table.”

“Damn right,” Sal said and reached down to see what the Lord had deemed fit to deal to him this time.

I was still seriously P.O.’d about how the so-called “date” had ended, even though it was now two full days later and despite the fact that it was exactly what I’d been expecting from those guys in the first place. So why then had it felt like I should have gotten something more, if not from Lou then from his new friend—this “Romeo” guy?

I didn’t know, I couldn’t put it into words even to explain it to myself, and that particular fact was only making me even more irritable and frustrated. Why couldn’t I just drop it? So what if the guy was a bull-headed, insensitive jerk? That just went with the territory on the Orange Grove. (And yeah, ok, so Romeo himself was from New York, but he was clearly from the
New York
version of the Orange Grove, whatever name that went by, so the rule still applied.)

But still I couldn’t put it out of my thoughts. Yes, I
had
been planning to leave early myself but at least I would have made my exit in a somewhat polite manner. If I’d been given a chance to, that is. Instead, moments after whipping out his phone, Romeo had looked up sharply at Lou who was canoodling with my smitten-kitten BFF and said, simply: “Yo. We got to go.”

Lou had glanced up, eyes glazed from love hormones and said: “what?”

“We’ve got to roll. Right now.”

They looked at each other for a second and Lisa stared from face to face between them, wide-eyed and dazed. I felt my lips curl into a thin smile of distaste and shook my head slightly. Nice, guys, real nice…

“What is it baby?” Lisa had asked, smiling hopefully at her new beau like she’d forgotten to bring her self-respect as an independent woman out with her that day.

Romeo stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Sorry babe, it’s important,” Lou muttered, kissing Lisa’s cheek and rising too.

“But isn’t this important Louis?” Lisa had asked.

“Obviously not,” I muttered and Lou shot me a dirty look.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said and then the two jerks sauntered out, going straight back into tough guy-swagger mode. I watched Romeo’s muscular back through his leather jacket as he left. The jerk didn’t even look at me, let alone say goodbye.

So now, two days later I was still thinking it over when I came back into Gino’s—this time to work an evening shift and help him out with the dinner rush
. I was surprised to find the
shutters were down, even though it was five pm and the café was supposed to have been open all day. Gino must have gone out to get something I reasoned, neglecting in my preoccupation to wonder what might have been so important that he couldn’t wait until I’d arrived in for my shift first. In a moment I would find out exactly what that was and then I’d forget all about Romeo Mancini, at least for the moment anyway…

“Gino, you in?” I called as I swung my book-bag up onto the counter. No answer.

“That’s weird,” I muttered, noticing that the linen till-cover was still draped over the old-fashioned cash register on the counter. In fact the whole place looked as though it hadn’t been opened at all that day.

“Gino?” I called again, stepping past the counter and out to the back hallway.

When I saw him my blood ran cold.

“Oh gosh, Gino!” I cried out, rushing forward to the unmoving lump of a man who was curled up and twisted at the bottom of the staircase. I fell to my knees beside him and placed my hands, softly but firmly on his shoulders. There was blood, not a lot, but enough to stimulate the first waves of an overwhelming panic that was about to wash over me. “Gino are you alright! What happened to you?”

No answer.

“Gino!”

This time there was a groan, faint and groggy, but alive at least. My shoulders collapsed in relief.

“Carmie, is that you?” he murmured.

“No, Gino it’s me Sandy. Hold on, I’m going to call an ambulance to come get you...”

I rushed out to the office and picked up the phone but the line was dead. In a flurry I ran into the café to use the customer pay phone but then I realized I had no change in my pocket and the key to the cash register would be firmly wedged in Gino’s inside pocket. I didn’t want to risk moving him to try to get it.

“Ok, think Sandy, think…”

Free texts. I had a bundle of free texts on my phone to use up this month, which had been tiding me over in lieu of call credit for the last couple of days since I was trying to save cash wherever I could. Cursing my own frugality, I whipped out my phone and began frantically tapping.

“
Gino Accident at Café Can’t call ambulance HELP!!!
”

I hit send to both Lisa and Lou, and then rushed back to Gino. I dropped to the ground beside him and placed my hand tentatively on his shoulder.

“Gino, what happened?” I asked.

“Sandra… I don’know, I must have fallen, I think…” Before I could stop him, he tried to get up, crying out in absolute agony as his abdomen moved but his twisted legs stayed exactly fixed in their sickeningly-warped position. They were broken, both of them, and badly by the looks of it.