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Authors: Nick Rollins

Tony Partly Cloudy (28 page)

BOOK: Tony Partly Cloudy
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Bugsy sneered. “Promotion? Yeah, whatever.”

Eddie appeared to be breathing normally now, and he picked up the conversational reins.

“Tony, I gotta say, you’re disappointing me. And even worse, you’re going to disappoint my boss. And that’s just never a smart move.”

Tony bristled. “So what are you going to do – whack me if I don’t throw a forecast?”

Eddie held his hands up. “Who said anything about whacking anybody? Relax, Tony. Relax.” Eddie straightened his tie. “I mean, we understand that you’re not in this line of work fulltime, so we’re not holding you to the same level of expectations as we would with, you know, a
professional
.” Eddie gestured toward himself and Bugsy, who responded by standing up just a little straighter.

Eddie said, “You chose civilian life, and you’ve done all right for yourself in that world. And we respect that. We’d just hate to see anything, you know,
jeopardize
that.”

“Jeopardize how? What are you saying?” Tony asked.

“Look, whether or not you think you’re mobbed up, there’s a couple things you gotta admit are true. One, you did do some work for some East Coast wiseguys, even if it was back when you were younger. And two, this big TV station where you work, they probably wouldn’t be real thrilled to learn about your, uh, checkered past. And they’d probably just
hate
it if say, some competing TV station was to find out about your... misspent youth.” Eddie took a moment to light another cigarette. He exhaled a stream of smoke in Tony’s face, and said, “You see what I’m sayin’ here?”

Tony’s voice was a seething whisper. “You goddamn bastard...”

Eddie made a show of feigning shock. “Tony – such language!”

Bugsy shifted where he stood, obviously enjoying this.

Tony said, “You guys don’t understand. I can’t do this. I can’t just go out there and lie about the weather.”

“Why the hell not?” Eddie bellowed. Lowering his voice, he said, “What are you, a goddamn boy scout? Did you take some special weatherman’s oath or something?” Eddie turned to Bugsy, who seemed to find this idea very amusing.

Turning back to face Tony, Eddie said, “It’s the freakin’ weather, for Christ’s sake. What’s the big deal? You think it
is
going to rain, you tell everybody it
ain’t
gonna rain. Then – surprise, surprise – it rains. So what? Some kid’s Little League game gets rained out, we collect our winnings, and you buy a goddamn Cadillac with your share of the take.”

“Fucking beautiful,” Bugsy said, his gold tooth flashing as he smiled.

Eddie nodded. “It
is
fucking beautiful. We do this maybe once a month, not enough to attract attention, and the money from this shit could really start adding up. And the beauty part is, it’s a whole new scam, and we’re the only ones milking this cow. Nobody else even knows there’s a game going on. Man, that’s unheard of in Vegas. There’s a million scams out there, but everybody knows about them, and everybody’s got their fingers in them. But nobody else is doing this.”

Eddie paused to take a celebratory drag on his cigarette. Exhaling, he said, “It’s fucking genius.”

“Total fucking genius,” Bugsy said.

Tony fumed.

Eddie said, “Tell you what. You think about it. Me and Bugsy here, this is just a courtesy call. You know, like an introduction between future business partners. When we’re ready to move forward on this, you’ll be contacted. I can’t say just when that will be, so if I was you, I’d start thinking about this, pronto.”

Eddie took another drag on his cigarette, then said, “And I think that once you, you know, pause and reflect, you’ll realize that you’d be freakin’ nuts to pass up an opportunity like this. Particularly given the risk. You know, of your employers finding out they’ve got a real live Mafioso working for them.”

“Jesus Freakin’ Christ,” Tony said. “Do you assholes just sit around watching gangster movies all day? Mafioso, the Outfit – who the hell talks like that?”

Again the vein bulged in Eddie’s forehead, but he kept his voice low. “You see?” he said, turning to Bugsy. “This is that East Coast attitude I was telling you about. Bunch of arrogant pricks, you ask me.”

Bugsy nodded in solemn empathy.

Eddie turned back to Tony and said, “We’ll be in touch.” He licked his thumb and forefinger, then crushed out his cigarette between them with a dull sizzle. Then he flicked the butt at Tony, and walked out the door.

Bugsy followed, pausing to make a show of opening his jacket and parking his gun in a shoulder holster before leaving.

FIVE MINUTES AFTER EDDIE AND BUGSY LEFT, Tony was dialing a number he memorized years ago, but had never used. It was nearly one in the morning, but he had always been told he could call any time, if it was an emergency. And this definitely qualified.

After only one ring, a low voice said, “Yeah?”

Tony cleared his throat. “I need to talk to Jimmy.”

“Who’s this?”

“Tony Bartolicotti.”

“Does he know you?”

“Yeah, he knows me good. We’re related, like second cous—”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at home. I think he has my number, but I—”

“I mean, what city?”

“Oh,” Tony said. “Chicago. The Wicker Park area.”

“Zip code.”

“Say what?”

“What’s your zip code?”

“Oh. Uh, it’s 60622. What the hell you want my zip code for, anyway?”

“Hold on,” the voice said, with no further explanation. After about thirty seconds, the voice came back. “Get something to write with.”

Tony did as he was told, then picked the phone back up. “Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”

The voice gave Tony an address on Division Street. “There’s a payphone there, out in front of a Shell station. You’ll get a call there in fifteen minutes.”

The line went dead.

Jeez, Tony thought, they’ve got phone booths mapped out by zip code? Grabbing his keys and his coat, he opened the front door. As he was locking it, he made a mental note to change the lock, although it showed no sign of damage.

He found the Shell station with two minutes to spare. The phone booth was the open kind, with no door to close for privacy or protection from the wind. Tony got out of his car, shivering in the chill wind as he approached the phone. He wondered idly what Superman thought about the extinction of the old fashioned phone booth. Then the phone rang.

Startled, Tony picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Tony?”

“Jimmy, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. What’s going on?”

“Listen, Jimmy. I’m real sorry about disturbing you. I hope you weren’t sleeping or nothing. But you said I could call any—”

“What’s going on?” Jimmy said again. “You in trouble?”

“I may be, Jimmy. But I gotta ask you something first. And you gotta promise to tell me the truth, okay?”

“I always tell you the truth, Tony. If there’s something I don’t want you to know, I just don’t talk about it,
capisce
?”

“That’s what I figured, Jimmy. And this may be that kind of thing. But I gotta know.”

“So,” Jimmy said, “ask.”

“Okay.” Tony inhaled. “Did you have anything – anything at all – to do with me getting my first forecasting job on TV?”

The phone was silent for so long that Tony thought perhaps the connection had been lost.

Finally, Jimmy said, “Jesus, Tony...”

Tony groaned.

Jimmy said, “Let me explain.”

“Damn it, Jimmy! What the hell did you do? I thought I got that job based on what I could do. Me. Not some family connection. Goddamn it, I—”

“Tony, wait.” There was something in Jimmy’s voice, even through the static of the payphone, that stopped Tony. Something both commanding and calming. Silent, Tony waited.

“Tony, first of all, you
did
get that job based on what you can do. That’s the God’s honest truth, I swear on the Virgin Mary. Tony, you’re great at what you do. The fact that everybody loves you should tell you that. And I had
nothing
to do with you getting the job at WGX.”

Tony said, “But...”

“But I might have had a little something to do with you getting the
audition
at that first station you were at. Not the job – just the audition.”

“You might have?”

Jimmy sighed. “I might have had a little conversation with that guy who runs things there – what’s his name – Flecker? Flanders?”

“Fletcher,” Tony said.

“Fletcher – yeah, that’s it.”

“I don’t believe this. You went in and threatened Fletcher?”

“Tony, it wasn’t like that. I went in and had a civilized conversation with the guy. I had an appointment and everything. We just talked about how the station should maybe be more open minded about hiring people from different backgrounds. People who were more – what did that article in
People
call it?”

“Overtly ethnic?”

“That’s it. We just talked about that, and he allowed as to how he saw my point. He’s a reasonable guy if you spell things out for him. Still, he’s kind of a douchebag, you ask me.”

Tony fought back a smile. “That part you got right,” he said. “But why did you do this? Why get involved?”

Jimmy said, “Tony, I was just trying to help. I mean, I love you – you know that, right? And I hate to see you unhappy. And your girlfriend was telling me how frustrated you were getting, so I—”

“Sarah? You talked to Sarah about this? When? Christ, am I the only person in the free world who didn’t know about this?”

“Tony, Tony – calm down. Sarah told me about it that night when I took you two to dinner. She’s a terrific lady, Tony – you are still seeing her, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “We’re going pretty good, actually. We see each other most every weekend.”

“Good, Tony. That’s good. She’s a classy lady, and she was looking out for you. When you get down to it, that’s the kind of person you want in your life, isn’t it?”

Tony said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just wish you had said something to me about this.”

“Tony. I know you. You like to do things your own way, and I respect that. If I had offered to talk to that Fletcher guy, what would you have said?”

“I’d have told you not to. You’re right. But this still sucks. Now I’ll never know if I could have made it on my own.”

“Damn it, Tony – you
did
make it on your own. Did
I
teach you how to predict the weather? Did
I
get that college degree you earned? Did
I
go down and live in that whacked-out Florida island, where two out of three guys are
finocchios
, just to learn more about the freakin’ weather? No, Tony. That was
you
that did all that. And that was
you
that went on the TV and got all those people to call in telling the station they loved you. That, I had nothing to do with. That was all you. I just opened the door. Hell, I didn’t even do that. You knew where the door was, you were standing outside it, ready to walk in. I just got you the key. Was that so wrong?”

Tony switched the phone to his other ear. “I don’t know, Jimmy. When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad. I just want to feel like... like I
earned
what I got.”

“Tony, you did. That’s what I’m saying. Look, is this what you called me about? I mean, I know this is a big deal to you, but I kind of got the impression something else was up.”

Tony had almost forgotten. Almost. “Yeah, Jimmy,” he said. There
is
something else.”

“Talk to me.”

Tony described his encounter with Eddie and Bugsy. When he was done, Jimmy whistled appreciatively.

“Jesus, Tony. That’s some situation you’re in. I just can’t believe those morons in Vegas actually came up with such an original idea – those assholes could fuck up a wet dream. But this – as much as it pains me to admit – this is a pretty sweet scam.”

“Jimmy!”

“Tony, I know you’re upset. I’m just saying. A man in my line of work, you gotta keep an eye out for new angles, and this – this is a new angle.”

“But what the hell am I supposed to do?”

Jimmy was silent for a brief moment. Then he said, “Tony, you’re a smart guy. So inside, you know there’s really only two things you
can
do. You play ball, or you don’t play ball.”

“But I don’t want to play ball!”

“Tony, I know that. But I also know that all of us end up having to do some things we don’t want to do. That’s just the way of the world.”

“So that means I gotta do this?”

“No,” Jimmy said, “it means you gotta weigh the options, and decide if doing something you don’t want to do is going to be better or worse – in the long run, that is – than the consequences of
not
doing something you don’t want to do.

There were too many negatives in that statement for Tony to be able to follow. He shook his head, trying to focus. “Say that again, Jimmy? In about a third as many words?”

Jimmy laughed. “Yeah, that was a mouthful. Okay, here’s what I’m saying. Option one: you do this thing they asked you to do. It makes you feel bad. Option two: you don’t do this thing. That feels pretty good, but then you pay the price for not doing it. That’s what you want to look at. Is that price higher or lower than the price you pay feeling bad about doing something disagreeable? That, as Shakespeare would say, is the question.”

“Okay, I got you,” Tony said. “So what do
you
think I should do?”

Another pause.

“Tony,” Jimmy said, his voice sounding weary. “You know the line of work I’m in. So I think you know the choice I’d make. But that’s me, not you. I offered you a chance to work with me years ago. But that’s not what you wanted to do, and I respected that. I still do.”

“I appreciate that, Jimmy. I just don’t know what to tell these guys. It’s a real problem.”

Jimmy said, “Tony, think back. What did I teach you about problems?”

Tony drew a blank. After a moment, he said, “Jimmy, I’m sorry, but I guess I don’t follow where you’re going with this.”

“Tony, come on. You’ve heard me say this. How do I feel about problems?”

It clicked then. Tony said, “You don’t like problems. You like solutions.”

“Bingo.”

“Well, no offense, Jimmy, but how does that help? Sure you like solutions. So do I – hell, so does everybody. I wish I had one right now.”

“That’s just it, Tony. You just said it.”

“Said what?”

Jimmy spoke deliberately. “Tony, what you just said. Think about it. Everybody likes solutions. Nobody like problems. You got a problem – we’ve established that. But Vegas has a problem, too: you. You won’t play ball, or at least you’re, shall we say,
reluctant
to play ball. To them, that’s a problem.”

Tony was becoming exasperated. “Yeah? So?”

“So when you say ‘I don’t want to do this,’ you’re offering them a problem. But if you say ‘how about we do
that
instead,’ you’re offering them a solution. It’s an alternative to their solution, sure, but at least it shows you’re trying to meet them halfway.”

“You mean like, make them a counter-proposal?”

“Exactly. Christ, Tony – I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten
everything
I taught you.”

Tony was thinking hard and fast. “But if the other solution I offer them is going to satisfy them at all, it means I gotta play at least
some
ball with them, am I right?”

Jimmy said, “Yeah, that’s how it works. You’d be playing ball, but you’d be playing it on your own terms.”

“And my alternative...”

“Your alternative is to
not
play ball, and deal with the consequences. That’s an option, too. But you gotta realize, these guys are serious. That stuff they threatened you with – they’ll do it. They’ll tie you to the family business, they’ll tell the whole world how you and I are linked.”

“Jesus, Jimmy – I don’t want to get you dragged into this. I mean, it’s bad enough they try to ruin
my
reputation, I don’t want them coming after you...”

Jimmy surprised Tony by laughing. “Tony, do you know how many times I’ve been in the paper? Or on TV? Christ, I’ve lost track. I could give a shit about it – it’s the nature of the business I’m in. The only thing I worry about is getting photographed more than once in the same suit. I mean, I got a reputation as a sharp dresser to maintain, you know what I’m saying?”

This got a laugh out of Tony. Then his spirits resumed their downward spiral. “I guess it’s different for you, Jimmy. This kind of publicity could cost me my job.”

“I understand that, Tony. That’s the consequence I was talking about. You gotta think about that, and then decide what to do. Then when you decide, you better let Vegas know. They don’t like surprises. So you gotta start thinking about that counter-proposal. ‘Cause what do they want?”

“Solutions,” Tony said, “not problems.”

“Bingo. Listen, Tony. I need to wrap this up. Are you going to be okay? Are you straight on what you gotta do here? The main thing you gotta do is weigh it all out. Think about the big picture, try some options out in your mind, and then pick the best one. Or at least the lesser of the evils, know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “I know. I got some thinking to do.”

“You do that,” Jimmy said. “And Tony – keep me in the loop on this, okay? You know the number.”

“Okay,” Tony said. “Thanks for talking to me. Again, I’m sorry about calling you so late.”

“Forget about it. I said anytime. I mean what I say.”

“I know that, Jimmy. That’s the first thing I figured out about you.”

“It’s the way to be, Tony. It’s not always the easiest way to be, but it’s the best.”

BOOK: Tony Partly Cloudy
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