Sally Boy (31 page)

When he opened his eyes again, Sal was back
at Yonkers Raceway following Anthony into the men’s room. He
watched his friend settle in front of a urinal. Drawing his pistol
from his jacket, Sal snuck up on Anthony from behind.

“You know, Sal. I’m really looking forward
to being a father. I’m gonna give my kid all the things we never
had when we was coming up.” Anthony said sentimentally.

Sal looked around to ensure they were
alone.

“I can’t wait till you have a kid,” Anthony
said happily. “Wouldn’t it be cool if someday our kids grew up to
be friends? Just like me, you, and Mikey.”

A shot rang out: blood splattered the wall
and drenched Sal from head to toe. Anthony’s body slid down the
front of the urinal and came to rest on the floor. Looking down at
him, Sal let loose with a heart-wrenching cry, “God, no!”

Awakened the next morning by frantic banging
on his front door, Sal struggled to get up from his bed. Staggering
to the door, he opened it to find Chrissy standing there.

“Hey, Chrissy?” he mumbled softly.

“Sal, where were you last night? We were
supposed to have dinner with my parents. I tried calling you like
ten times, but there was no answer. I was worried sick about you.
Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I had to work late last
night and I didn’t have the number to the restaurant.” Yawning, Sal
ran his hand through his hair. “Are your parents mad?”

“No. They’re just disappointed. They were
really looking forward to meeting you. I told them so much about
you, but as long as you’re okay, that’s all that really matters. We
can always have dinner with my parents.” Entering the apartment,
Chrissy started toward the bedroom.

“Where you going?” Sal asked, nervously.

“Oh, I left my good earrings on the
nightstand the other night.”

“I don’t think they’re here. I ain’t seen
’em.” Sal quickly blocked Chrissy’s path to the bedroom.

“Sal, what’s the matter with you? You’re
acting strange. I know they’re here.” Maneuvering around Sal, she
stepped into the bedroom. Chrissy searched the top of the dresser
and then the nightstand. “What’s this?” Chrissy asked as she picked
up a hypodermic needle.

“I don’t know?”

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’?”

“Maybe somebody left it here by
accident.”

“Sal, do you think I’m stupid?”

“I never said you was stupid.”

“Then why are you treating me like I am? Are
you shooting drugs? Tell me the truth, Sal.” Setting the needle
down, Chrissy hugged him. “Look, if you have a problem, we’ll get
you help.”

Sal pulled away from her. “I don’t need no
help! I ain’t no junkie.”

“I just want to help you. Can’t you tell me
the truth?”

“You want the truth? The truth is my father
was right. Broads just get in the way. Some men ain’t meant to be
tied down.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it means.”

“Sal, please don’t do this. I just want to
help you. I love you so much.”

“What the fuck do you want from me, huh?
What? You like slumming? Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand
nothing? I ain’t like you and your perfect little family. I could
never fit in.” Picking up a lamp, Sal roared as he threw it across
the room. “I come from the fucking streets! This is what I am. And
that’s all I’m ever gonna be.”

Chrissy slowly backed away from him,
pleading, “No, Sal! You’re wrong. I know you. You’re a good man.
What about all the wonderful things we talked about?”

“Fucking pipe dreams! Guys like me don’t end
up living in a big house in the country with a white picket fence
raising kids.”

“Don’t say that! You’re just scared. We’ll
have beautiful children, a nice home, and make a good life for
them. For us.”

“Do you know who I am? Do you know the
things I’ve done? The people I’ve butchered. I’ll never get clean.
Understand?” Taking hold of Chrissy’s shoulders, Sal shook her
ferociously. “And I hate you for making me feel this way about
myself! Do you get that, huh? Do you?”

“No, Sal, you’re just scared,” Chrissy cried
out. “You’re hurt and confused because your best friend got
murdered by some low-life thug. We’ll get through this together. I
promise you. I’ll make some calls and find a good treatment
center...”

Whack! Sal slapped her across her face.
Chrissy let out a sharp cry and held the left side of her face in
total disbelief.

“We’re done. Now get outta my fucking life,”
Sal said coldly.

“Please don’t do this,” Chrissy begged as
tears welled up in her eyes.

“We both knew this could never work. We was
just fooling ourselves.”

“No! That’s not true,” Chrissy tried to hug
Sal, but he pushed her away.

“Get out.”

“Okay, you win, Sally Boy. If you don’t want
me around anymore, I’ll leave.” Scurrying to the front door,
Chrissy opened it, and looked back over her shoulder. “You know
something, Sal? You could have been anything you wanted to be. We
would’ve been happy together. Christ, I know we would have. I just
wish you could see in yourself what I see.” Forcing a smile,
Chrissy wiped her tears. “I love you, Sal. I’ll always love you.”
Stepping out into the hall, Chrissy gently closed the door behind
her.

Racing to the door as if he were going after
her, Sal grasped the door knob, and then stopped. His body slowly
continued forward and came to rest flush up against the door. “I’m
so sorry, baby. Please forgive me,” Sal muttered softly.

* * * * *

Sitting in the back office of the Mirragio
Club, Carmine was intently counting the take from the many gambling
spots the Mirragios controlled. He was angered to find that Sal’s
collections were short and some even unmade for days. “What the
fuck is wrong with that cocksucker?” Carmine punched the table. “He
can’t even make his collections on time.”

In the front of the club, Carmine’s men sat
around drinking and playing poker.

“I fold. Take it down.” Jimmy lit his cigar
and angrily blew the smoke into the air.

Dropping his cards onto the table, Nicky
raked in a large pot. “I was bluffing! I only had a fucking
pair.”

“I knew I shoulda called you.” Jimmy shook
his head.

Shoving a hero sandwich into his mouth, Tony
laughed, “Spikes, he only raised you ’cause you got more fucking
tells than Blinks. Everybody knew you only got two pairs.”

“Fuck you, Fats. I ain’t got no tells,” Joey
complained.

“What, are you kidding me? You’re nothing
but tells,” Jimmy grumbled.

Hurrying out of the back office, Carmine
stood before his men seething. “Where the fuck is Scalise? I wanna
talk to him.”

Joey glanced up from the game, blinking
erratically. “We don’t know. He don’t come around that much
anymore.”

“What do you mean? Where the fuck is
he?”

“Nobody knows. Besides, there’s something
that ain’t right about that guy,” Nicky added.

“What do you mean ‘ain’t right’?” Carmine
asked, puzzled.

“He’s been hanging around with that fucking
spic too much.”

“What spic?” Carmine shouted.

Nicky began to shuffle the cards. “The one
he knows from Harlem.”

“The place we got the action? Where they
sell the babania?”

“Yeah, that place,” Joey said
hesitantly.

Carmine’s face hardened. “Go get that
motherfucker and bring him to me.”

“He called about an hour ago. He should be
here any time,” Nicky said warily.

Angrily biting his lower lip, Carmine
yelled, “Who the fuck does that prick think he is? He comes when I
motherfucking call, not the other way around. Nicky, you and Joey
go find him and bring him here to me. Understand?”

Returning to the back office, Carmine
slammed the door. Jumping up from the table, Nicky and Joey rushed
out of the club. As they stepped out of the doorway, they were
surprised to see Sal coming around the corner.

“Where the fuck you been, Sal? Carmine’s
fucking pissed.”

“Carmine’s always fucking pissed. What’s he
pissed about this time, Nick?”

Nervously, Joey rubbed his eyes. “You better
go talk to him, Sally. He’s in the back room.”

Making his way to the back office, Sal
knocked twice and opened the door. “Carmine, the fellas said you
wanted talk to me.”

“Get the fuck in here.”

Stepping into the office, Sal stood
patiently, waiting to be scolded.

“Where the fuck you been, Sally Boy?”

“What are you talking about, Carmine? I’m
here.”

“You’re here, huh. You’re fucking up big
time. Missing pickups, and sometimes you don’t come around for
days. Nobody knows where the fuck you are half the time.”

“Yeah, but I’m always here when you really
need me. Ain’t I?”

“I don’t wanna hear it anymore. And I’ll
tell you something else, you better not be doing what I think
you’re doing.” Rising from his chair, Carmine went to the door and
yelled out, “Nicky, Jimmy, get the fuck in here.” Carmine sat down
and waited until Nicky and Jimmy entered. “Take off your jacket,
Sal,” Carmine ordered.

Sal didn’t say a word. He just glared at
Carmine.

“Sal, take off your fucking jacket,” Nicky
repeated coldly.

“Why?”

“Just fucking do it, Sal,” Jimmy
shouted.

Sal slowly took off his jacket and hung it
on the back of the chair. “What’s this all about, Carmine?”

“Shut the fuck up and sit down.” Turing to
his men, Carmine instructed, “Grab that motherfucker’s arms.”

Taking a seat, Sal just shook his head.

Nicky and Jimmy each took hold of an
arm.

“Now we’ll find out what you’ve been up to,
Sally Boy.” Carmine taunted.

“Carmine, I ain’t been up to nothing!” Sal
implored through gritted teeth.

Getting up from his seat, Carmine walked
around the desk and tried to roll up one of Sal’s sleeves, but Sal
broke free from Nicky and Jimmy’s grasp. The two men struggled to
regain control of Sal until Carmine stuck his .38 in Sal’s face.
“Sit still you motherfucker! If you move again, I’ll shoot you
right through your fucking eye.”

Sal froze. Carmine ripped open the cuff of
Sal’s sleeve and pulled it up above the forearm. Carmine eyes
popped open as he stared in disbelief at the many needle tracks
running up and down Sal’s arm. “Jesus Christ! You fucking
motherfucking junkie!”

Nicky and Jimmy released their hold on
Sal.

Stepping back behind the desk, Carmine sat.
“After all we’ve done for you, this is how you repay the
Mirragios?”

“What do you want me to say, Carmine? I did
everything you asked me to do. Without question! I even whacked...”
Closing his eyes briefly, Sal exhaled deeply. “...so I’ll ask you
one more time. What the fuck do you want me to say, huh?” Enraged,
Sal lunged over the desk trying to get to Carmine, but he was
restrained by Nicky and Jimmy, and thrown back into his chair.

“You wanna shoot up the babania, that’s your
fucking business. But you don’t do it under our flag. No more!
Don’t come around here ever again. You know what’ll happen if you
do? I swear to God, I’ll fucking clip you myself. You only get this
warning ’cause of your father. Otherwise, you’d be a fucking
memory. Now get the fuck outta my sight.”

Rolling down his sleeve, Sal put on his
jacket. As he started toward the office door, Sal stopped and
turned to his former associates. “I’ll be seeing youse around,
fellas.”

Exiting the club, Sal climbed into his car
and slammed the door shut. Staring at the club with contempt in his
eyes, Sal punched the dashboard. “You motherfucker’s wanna play
rough, I’ll show you how to play rough.”

Tearing away from the curb, Sal recklessly
negotiated the familiar streets until he saw a phone booth. Coming
to a screeching halt, Sal jerked the booth door open, stuffed a
dime into the phone’s mouth, and dialed. “Angel? It’s me.”

“What’s happening, my man?

“Lock-and-load, motherfucker. It’s on.”

“You serious? You ain’t just fucking with
me?”

“Get ready to get bloody; we’re going to
war!”

“That’s beautiful, baby.”

“I’m coming over. We gotta make a list of
people to kill.”

“Cool.”

“Yo Angel, those friends of yours, they
better be everything you said they was.”

Twenty minutes later, Sal arrived at Angel’s
building. Speeding up the steps to Angel’s front door, Sal knocked
loudly. The door opened and Angel greeted Sal with a big
grin.”What’s up, hermano?”

“C’mon, we got a lotta shit to talk over.
And wipe that stupid fucking smile off your face.” Sal slammed the
door shut behind him. Angel went to the refrigerator and grabbed
two beers. “So this is really it, huh.” Angel handed Sal a beer. “I
can’t believe we’re going up against the Mirragio Family.”

Taking a seat, Sal sipped his beer. “The die
is cast.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means they’re dead and they don’t even
know it yet. Call your people and set up a meeting at the Jolly
Tinker over on Webster Avenue up in the Bronx. I own a piece of it.
We’ll set up our area of operations outta the basement.”

“Sal, not for nothing, but do you think it’s
a good idea to be working outta the Bronx? I mean...why don’t we
just set up an A.O. outta Harlem? It’ll be a lot safer for all of
us, especially for me and my boys.”

“Are you fucking crazy? You think I’m gonna
let those scumbags run me outta the Bronx? No fucking way!”

“Yeah, but Sal...”

“Just do what I fucking told you to do. Call
those cocksucking friends of yours. We’ll see what they got between
their legs.”

Picking up the phone, Angel dialed. “Lemme
speak to Juan. Hey, what’s up? Get Roberto and Clo. We got work,
tomorrow night up in the Bronx. Come by my place later tonight.
We’ll go over everything. Cool? See you later.” Angel hung up and
turned to Sal. “This is gonna be just like old times, hermano. I
can feel it. Let’s get higher than a motherfucker!” Angel scooped
up some heroin with a spoon from a plastic bag on the coffee table
and cooked it up over an already lit candle.