The sun was rising in the cloudless pale blue sky. I stopped for a moment in front
of my house; I thought about climbing into the bathroom window over the back
porch, I really didn’t want Mom seeing me like this. And I definitely don’t want to
explain to her how I escaped a mob hit squad. Or why. I decided to keep going
and hang out at the Raven until I have a good story to tell her. Besides, the way
my sides are hurting I don’t think I can climb onto the back porch. I probed my left
side gently, it hurts like hell but I don’t think my ribs are broken. I ran my tongue
around my teeth and found the hole in the back on the right where my tooth
used to be. Those guys tossed me a pretty good beat down.
The Raven Social Club is locked up tight. Even the back door in the first floor
hall way of the three-family house is pad locked. I slid down the cement wall of
the Old Lady house on the corner across the street from the Raven. It’s our
usual hang out across from the deli, when we’re not in The Raven shooting pool
and drinking. Sitting on the sidewalk with my back against the wall felt good. I was
slowly picking pieces from the French roll I took from the bread bag in front of the
deli. I didn’t realize it until I popped that first piece of bread into my mouth how
hungry I was. I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. I get like that in the
summer, especially when it’s hot. And even though it was only the first week of
June, the temperature was in the nineties and that is unusually hot for New York.
I closed my eyes and let the sunshine melt the pain away. I cleared my head of
any thoughts. There was nothing but the red glow of the inside of my eyelids.
of my house; I thought about climbing into the bathroom window over the back
porch, I really didn’t want Mom seeing me like this. And I definitely don’t want to
explain to her how I escaped a mob hit squad. Or why. I decided to keep going
and hang out at the Raven until I have a good story to tell her. Besides, the way
my sides are hurting I don’t think I can climb onto the back porch. I probed my left
side gently, it hurts like hell but I don’t think my ribs are broken. I ran my tongue
around my teeth and found the hole in the back on the right where my tooth
used to be. Those guys tossed me a pretty good beat down.
The Raven Social Club is locked up tight. Even the back door in the first floor
hall way of the three-family house is pad locked. I slid down the cement wall of
the Old Lady house on the corner across the street from the Raven. It’s our
usual hang out across from the deli, when we’re not in The Raven shooting pool
and drinking. Sitting on the sidewalk with my back against the wall felt good. I was
slowly picking pieces from the French roll I took from the bread bag in front of the
deli. I didn’t realize it until I popped that first piece of bread into my mouth how
hungry I was. I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. I get like that in the
summer, especially when it’s hot. And even though it was only the first week of
June, the temperature was in the nineties and that is unusually hot for New York.
I closed my eyes and let the sunshine melt the pain away. I cleared my head of
any thoughts. There was nothing but the red glow of the inside of my eyelids.
Blackness momentarily interrupted the warm red glow in my head. My eyes popped open and I instinctively sprang to
my feet reaching around my back for my 007 switch blade. “You’re one jumpy jungle bunny,” said Nicky Rocci. “But I
guess you would be from the looks of you. Black eye, swollen jaw, some nasty black and blues . . . Well blues on
your sides,” he said holding my leather jacket open.
“You look like you had a rough night too, you whop cocksucker,” I replied sliding back down to the sidewalk. “Who
worked over your face Nails?” I call him Nails partly because his family was in the construction business and he likes
to tell everyone that he can chew nails and spit bullets. He was sporting a black eye, busted lip, and his nose looked
like it had been moved around on his face a bit.
“My Dad wasn’t too happy about the job we pulled on the Deli Man. Let me get a piece of that bread.”
“Get your own,” I said. “And while you’re over there grab a couple of quarts. I know the Deli Man won’t mind.” Nicky
Nails went into the alley that leads to the back of the deli and came out with two quarts of Budweiser. He reached
into the big brown bread bag and pulled out an Italian loaf. As he cross the street I noticed a slight limp, he probably
got stomped on too. “So why did you tell him about the Deli Man? I thought we all agreed to keep our mouth shut.
Not matter what!”
“I didn’t tell him anything. It seems the Deli Man is more connected than we thought.”
“Not we thought,” I corrected, “you thought. You said he was a small time numbers guy. Easy pickings.”
“Well MoJo,” Nicky sat down besides me. He called me MoJo, short for Morris Johnson and after the lyrics in the
Doors song, ‘L. A. Woman’. I love that song. I play it all the time. “Not only is he more mobbed up than I thought; he
was paying my family to keep his bank here. Naturally when we hit him, he complained to my father about not
protecting his money. My dad asked me what I knew.”
“And you bitched up!”
“Does it look like I talked?” I took a long deep swig of cold beer. Nicky continue, “We saw Deli Man’s guys grab you. I
guess you kept quiet too.”
“Of course I did. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. He was going to keep on beating me until I gave him the answer he
wanted. That’s when he found out about me and Elizabeth, and went ...
my feet reaching around my back for my 007 switch blade. “You’re one jumpy jungle bunny,” said Nicky Rocci. “But I
guess you would be from the looks of you. Black eye, swollen jaw, some nasty black and blues . . . Well blues on
your sides,” he said holding my leather jacket open.
“You look like you had a rough night too, you whop cocksucker,” I replied sliding back down to the sidewalk. “Who
worked over your face Nails?” I call him Nails partly because his family was in the construction business and he likes
to tell everyone that he can chew nails and spit bullets. He was sporting a black eye, busted lip, and his nose looked
like it had been moved around on his face a bit.
“My Dad wasn’t too happy about the job we pulled on the Deli Man. Let me get a piece of that bread.”
“Get your own,” I said. “And while you’re over there grab a couple of quarts. I know the Deli Man won’t mind.” Nicky
Nails went into the alley that leads to the back of the deli and came out with two quarts of Budweiser. He reached
into the big brown bread bag and pulled out an Italian loaf. As he cross the street I noticed a slight limp, he probably
got stomped on too. “So why did you tell him about the Deli Man? I thought we all agreed to keep our mouth shut.
Not matter what!”
“I didn’t tell him anything. It seems the Deli Man is more connected than we thought.”
“Not we thought,” I corrected, “you thought. You said he was a small time numbers guy. Easy pickings.”
“Well MoJo,” Nicky sat down besides me. He called me MoJo, short for Morris Johnson and after the lyrics in the
Doors song, ‘L. A. Woman’. I love that song. I play it all the time. “Not only is he more mobbed up than I thought; he
was paying my family to keep his bank here. Naturally when we hit him, he complained to my father about not
protecting his money. My dad asked me what I knew.”
“And you bitched up!”
“Does it look like I talked?” I took a long deep swig of cold beer. Nicky continue, “We saw Deli Man’s guys grab you. I
guess you kept quiet too.”
“Of course I did. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. He was going to keep on beating me until I gave him the answer he
wanted. That’s when he found out about me and Elizabeth, and went ...
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Killer With A Heart