Authors: Clever Black
“I know, boss. And that’s what got me pissed.”
Eddie said as he slapped the counter and backed away in frustration.
“Junior vacated too, so the Italians can be held in contempt as
well. That is where you should be given a pass, but it’s no
guarantee, Eddie.”
“I told Junior last night before he left that I’m willing
to face the music, Doss. If anybody should be held responsible, it
should be me. I don’t want nothing to happen to my brothers
over there. They were only following my lead.”
“I’ll do what I can to smooth things over in Chicago.
Next time, though, should it be a next time, take the hit. It’s
what we pay you for and everybody involved in this business
understands the risks—up to and including death or jail. Can’t
do much about our immortality, but we have a damn good lawyer who
will defend us and plenty of money to fight the charges to go along
with it, and outside of Jesus, he’s the best thing going when
it comes to fighting the law.”
“Take the hit next time. Got it. You talked to Mendoza?”
Eddie asked, a little relieved that he wasn’t asked by Doss to
take a ride.
“Not yet, but he knows what happened thanks to my wife. Me and
my family will be on our way to Chi-town after we spend time with
Lucky. Now, what I want done is for us to establish a new base of
operations for the time being. You got somebody in mind we can use?
Somebody reliable?”
“Yeah. My man Malik here is solid. He run the biggest trap we
got over in Fox Park. Strong soldier with good street intellect that
knows how to move weight fast.”
“Okay,” Doss said as he turned towards Malik. “Young
man, you up next. You the man behind the man now. You just been
bumped up to a Lieutenant.”
“I won’t let the family down, Doss.”
“Try not to,” Doss said as he turned back to Eddie. “I’m
gonna have Fin set up a rental space so we can deliver for the time
being. We have enough artillery to hold our own during this
transition, Malik?”
“Every set got at least two Tommy Guns and three AK-47s. We
good on guns, boss.” Malik responded.
“Okay. Eddie? You’re taking lead for now down here with
Gaggi and Benito out of the equation. But you only operate on my
orders.”
“What about Junior? He wanna go all haywire and just start
killing any and everybody.”
“Junior isn’t running anything. Mendoza and my father are
still over this organization, so they have the final say so. I’m
only telling you to do what I know they would want done for the time
being. We should have about eight left, I want six of those broken
down into ounces and the rest cooked up until it’s offed. By
then we’ll have another shipment brought in and we can pick
back up where we left off.”
“Thanks, Doss.” Eddie remarked.
“What you thanking me for?”
“Man, I swear, I thought you were going to have us killed for
running off like that, brother.”
Doss took a few steps towards Eddie, looked him in the eyes and said
in a serious manner,“I been knowing you since before you were
able to walk, Eddie, not to mention me and your father did good
business together back in the day and you like a son to me. I can’t
say I’m not disappointed because I’d be lying to you, but
this here wasn’t a double-cross. We took a hit—a big
hit—but business must go on. I know you won’t let us down
from here on out and will do all that’s necessary to make it
right—given your mistake.”
“Whatever I gotta do, Doss. Just give us the orders.”
“You have orders for now. And I’ll vouch for you with
Mendoza and my father. I’m going sit with Lucky for a while.
We’ll be in touch in a couple of days.” Doss ended as he
and the big three left the bar.
*******
“On our own turf,” Mendoza said somberly as he and Junior
sat inside his home in Cicero after leaving Mount Sinai Hospital, a
day after meeting with Doss. “We find that Spanish girl Eddie
mentioned to Doss we can crack this thing wide open and track down
those responsible.”
“This hit could’ve come from anywhere. Someone has to be
talking for this to happen, granddad.” Junior said as walked
over to his grandfather’s wine rack.
“I don’t think so, son. This was a hit. And the people we
have in charge have had solid reputations for years and were groomed
for this business.”
“But they’re not Italian.” Junior said as he began
pacing the living room floor.
Mendoza eyed Junior with disdain as he sat up in his lounge chair.
“Are you implying that one of our own set this up? If so, who?
And why?”
“I don’t know the why, but Eddie could be the who.”
“Are you serious? Eddie was around before you were even brought
into this thing of ours, Junior.”
“Loyalty sometimes comes with a price! It can be bought!”
“Eddie took a loss with the rest of us! And you yourself left
the area! I can make the same accusation towards you!” Mendoza
said as he stood up on his feet.
“You’d believe an outsider before you believe your own
kind?”
Mendoza eyed Junior with a quiet anger. He was shocked that his own
grandson would dare to insult the race of people who’d been
most loyal to La Cosa Nostra for the last forty years or so. “Have
you lost your mind, boy? Would you even say what you’re saying
to me if DeeDee, Doss or Eddie were even present? You call our most
loyal allies outsiders?”
“What difference does it make? You would take their side
anyway!”
“There are no sides with this thing of ours! Never had there
been a
side
! It is only us!
Us
!” Mendoza yelled.
“Us is right. If the blacks were of any importance, Zell would
have made them.”
“You really have gone off the deep end, boy.” Mendoza
remarked as he looked at his grandson with a disheartened look. “All
these years I never knew you to have a racist bone your body. Your
grandmother, mother, father and I aren’t and wasn’t like
that ever. Where is this attitude coming from?”
Junior stood up and paced the floor with his glass of wine. “Eddie
tried to usurp my authority,” he said. “I ordered for him
to hit every set in Saint Louis but he wouldn’t listen.”
“He was right not to do so.”
“Are you serious,” Junior asked. “With Benito and
Gaggi dead and my pops in critical condition, I’m next in line
to run the business.”
“Your mother is dead, and your father is this close to death,”
Mendoza said as he held two fingers close together. “And your
grandmother is preparing to have a double mastectomy. And all you
worry about is who will lead the business? Where’s your heart?
Or better yet your head and the brain inside it?”
“My heart is set on revenge! What happened was slip in judge—”
“I’m not done talkin’ you son-of-a-bitch!”
Mendoza yelled. “You shock me with your racist attitude and the
lack of remorse for what your family is going through! We have people
that can run the business! Your main focus should be on that of
burying your dead mother, your wounded father and your ailing
grandmother! The streets will take care of themselves!”
“Not without a leader, granddad. So tell me,” Junior said
as he picked up a bottle of wine and gulped from the bottle. “Tell
me who’s in charge?”
“Doss will lead the family through this episode and you will
stay here with me and deal with what’s going on in our
immediate family is what you’ll do!”
“Like the hell I will,” Junior said as he headed for the
front door.
“Lei rià il Suo asino qui! Io che gli parlo non sono
fatto!” (You get your ass back here! I’m not done talking
to you!) Mendoza yelled.
Junior paused, closed the door and turned to his grandfather and
Mendoza could clearly see streams of tears pouring down his face.
Junior was hurt to his heart over what had happened. “I’m
sorry, granddad. I shoulda fuckin’ stayed,” he cried as
he took to one knee and pounded the floor with his left fist. “I
ran like a coward and it cost my mother her life! My pops ain’t
doing too well either! I’m going outta my fuckin’ mind!”
Mendoza walked over and knelt down before his grandson and placed a
hand on his shoulder. “Look at me, son,” he said
lovingly. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. The fear and
anger I can understand—but rebelling against the family would
only contribute to the problem. Here, at least for now, here is where
you belong. I do what I do to protect you because I know you will
only run out there and get yourself killed. Cooler heads are on this
job. When the time’s right, you’ll get back out there,
but for now, I need you here with me.”
“I understand, granddad,” Junior said as he stood up and
ran his hands through his hair. “I haven’t cried like
this in years.”
“Not since you were a young lad that fell off the swing in your
mother’s backyard,” Mendoza replied, believing Junior was
getting back into the right frame of mind.
“I’m, I’m really gonna miss my mom’s laugh.
It was infectious, you know?”
“That it was. I ever told you the story of how your parents
met?”
“At the ball game back in nineteen seventy-one, right?”
“Yeah. The ball game—but let me tell it again—with
a little more flair.”
“I’d love to hear it. Hey, you wanna fix a meal? Let’s
fix my pop’s favorite meal.”
“We have to get some ground beef. And a couple of steaks.”
“Okay. I’ll pay.”
“You’re paying? Well, let me throw my wallet down just to
make sure ya’ cheapskate.”
Junior laughed and said, “You’re right, man.”
“About you being a cheapskate? Hell I saw that before you were
able to walk.”
“Not that, granddad. About me belonging here in Chicago. We
have a good crew. I owe those guys an apology. Even if they didn’t
hear what I said, I owe it to them to stand up and apologize.”
Junior said as he coughed lowly and eyed the floor.
“That’s what men of honor do, son. And honor runs in all
of the Chicago Gang’s blood.” Mendoza replied as he
turned towards the door.
“
Not always,”
Junior said to himself as he
followed his grandfather out the front door.
*******
“Doctor Obadiah Wickenstaff you’re needed at the
emergency entrance. Doctor Obadiah Wickenstaff you’re needed at
the emergency entrance.”
“
What a weird name. I wonder what nationality someone with
the name of Obadiah Wickenstaff would be,”
Naomi thought to
herself as she walked across the pristine waxed floors of Mercy
Medical Center. She strolled past smiling nurses, her pointed
stiletto heels leaving subtle imprints in the vinyl tile as she
approached the main desk and asked could she see a man by the name of
Faustino Cernigliaro Senior.
“Yes, ma’am. He’s responsive at this moment, but he
can’t speak.”
“I talked to his doctor yesterday and he said his chances
aren’t good. How is he responsive if he’s so gravely
injured?”
“He can open his eyes and blink. That’s how authorities
were able to communicate with him, ma’am.”
“Can you share what they’ve…never mind…I
know it’s an on-going investigation and I’m out of line.”
“He must mean something to you. I can see the hurt on your
face,” the nurse remarked.
“Lady,” Naomi said as she smiled proudly, “that man
was my best friend next to my husband. As a matter of fact, he
introduced me to my husband. And from that came eight children and a
lifetime of memories.”
The nurse smiled back at Naomi. “I’m sorry this happened,
miss?”
“I’m Naomi Holland-Dawkins.”
“Naomi? Your friend, Faustino? He’s a strong man, but the
wound to his lower jaw is a critical one.”
“Will he recover?”
The nurse shuffled papers around her desk. She sniffled with tears
forming in her eyes and said, “The doctors are never around for
these things. They leave it up to us to tell loved ones. Like we’re
the bad guys in all this and it brings us joy to share what we know.”
Naomi stepped back at that moment and placed a hand over her mouth to
hold back her cries. She knew where Lucky had been shot, and she
herself didn’t think his survival was favorable. The nurse only
confirmed her beliefs, but she had to know what she would face when
she entered her friend’s room. “What’s the
prognosis?” Naomi asked lowly.
The nurse looked Naomi in the eyes and held back tears. “We do
what can here to save lives,” she said lowly. “Sometimes,
though, the trauma is beyond our abilities and we’re only able
to make the patient as comfortable as our God-given talents would
allow until the inevitable. Mister Cernigliaro is paralyzed from the
chest down. The bullet that went through his lower jaw severed a
vertebra in his neck, Naomi. He can’t breathe on his own and he
can’t feed himself. Control over his bodily functions is
nonexistent and the, the agonizing thing for your friend is that he
knows all of this. He’s been put into a living hell.”
All the hope and happiness she had been carrying with her left Naomi
after the nurse had spoken. She was hoping to at least see her friend
smile this day, but Lucky didn’t have a damn thing to smile
about. Knowing Lucky, however, Naomi knew her friend wished he’d
died rather than have to live life as a quadriplegic. She thanked the
nurse and rode the elevator up to Lucky’s room where she
encountered DeeDee in the waiting room.
“Doctors tube fed him about thirty minutes ago. He’s
awake, just staring at the TV.” DeeDee said with concern as he
hugged Naomi. “How’s the family handling things on the
ranch?”
“DeeDee, they were so worried about you. The kids kept asking
about you. The family is mostly preparing for Mildred’s
funeral. I talked to Doss earlier. He’s back in Chicago with
Fin. He says the Asians know we took a hit, but it’s business
as usual on our end.”
“Doss is in charge of the whole thing now given the situation
with Mendoza’s family, so he and my grandkids may be busy for
the time being.”