Adversary (9 page)

Alfonzo smirked when the commuters within inches of Giuseppe flinched.
Funny shit, seriously!
“Nobody put a gun to your head!”

“What type of older brother would I be if I allowed you to travel this stink-hole unprotected, eh cazzo?”

More quizzical stares.

Comical is how Alfonzo saw the situation. “Stop calling me cazzo coño!”

“Eh, you are being an ass because I do not agree with what you did.”

Newspapers, reading devices and cell phones were in hands for show as ears listened. Alfonzo switched languages to speak in Italian. “Kiss my ass, Sergio’s gone out of his way to make amends and you keep kicking him. I don’t like what you’re doing. Period!”

The roar from Giuseppe distanced commuters and brought laughter from a group of teens at the other end of the train. “He does stupid things and talks as if he is entitled. He has no right to be in our business. He has yet to earn my respect!”

“That’s all you care about? You haven’t seen how much he’s done to gain your respect?”

“Like what?” Giuseppe countered.

“He humbled himself to apologize to you months ago. Every time he’s in your presence he kisses your ass to say hello. I’m tired of being in the middle. I have my own problems and I don’t want to referee grown ass men!”

Giuseppe pushed off the pole. His voice reduced in volume. He had not known his brother had problems so heavy. Often they were due to only one person when he did. “Tell me, has the lion tamer mauled your heart?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The Selange, your bella, what has she done now?” Giuseppe chided.

Alfonzo’s eyes narrowed. “You better chill when talking about my wife. I draw the line there hombre and I’ll kick your ass if you step over.”

“Ah, so you are still mad about what I said.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Si, you are fratellino.”

Alfonzo growled. “I’m angry that we fight each other and behave like our father with the women when I am trying to be better husband.”

“You are better. You just do not see.”

“And what about you Giuseppe, has the past taught you nothing?”

Giuseppe smirked. “I do not live in history fratellino. To do so would give me aches like you. We are men of power, make what you want of the past but do not believe it is your future.”

Alfonzo shook his head in exasperation. “I’ve been having bad vibes brother. I want us to be on the same page and not distracted by our vices.”

“Eh, do not worry I will not let micio cloud my head unless I am between feminine legs.” Giuseppe teased. “You are distracted because you have no release and your pene cries for it. Yet, you do not answer and punish yourself. Your wife will not know what you do unless you tell her.”

Alfonzo smirked. Sheesh, only his brother would go there. “Be careful with your smug ass, when Shanda busts you I guarantee you’ll change your tune.”

“Ah, she will not find out but in the event she does what will she do but accept I am who I am.”

“A lying cheat.”

“A Don.”

Alfonzo laughed.
“A Don
,” he copied. “That doesn’t mean shit, you’re an arrogant man.”

Giuseppe chuckled. The train did a three pull-jerk and his legs widened. Before it stopped his foot came down hard on a passenger’s white Jordan’s and the guy sat forward, pulling out his earpiece. “Yo…yo!”

Giuseppe looked down as the doors opened at the One hundred and Tenth Street station as if he saw a gnat. “Problem?”

“You just stepped on my foot yo!”

People entered, Alfonzo stepped a little to the side but Giuseppe didn’t. His face contorted at the jean wearing youth. “And you need an explanation of the obvious?”

Alfonzo scoffed. The dude was looking for an apology for an accidental offense but he didn’t know he wasn’t getting one from Giuseppe.

“Excuse me or yo I’m sorry,” spilled from the commuters lips to the quiet of the train.

The express took off and Alfonzo’s lips pursed tightly because the youth wasn’t backing down. Giuseppe was a man big on respect. Not that he gave any, he expected manner towards him.

When the guy swiveled Alfonzo nipped the shit in the bud the New York way. “You’re a dumb-ass for rocking vintage Jordan’s on a crowded subway and thinking you’re not going to have a mishap. Keep them shit’s in the closet and save yourself an ass-whipping. Now shut up and sit back!”

Giuseppe laughed. “See what you have done
yo
, you have made fratellino crazy. Sit back stronzo and do not speak again, capisce?”

The boldness evaporated when the guy observed the menacing pair invade his personal space. He traveled alone and was seated which put him at a disadvantage. He got the feeling these guys could back up their shit judging by the size of their fists. Passengers averted their eyes and he doubted any would intervene if the pair beat him to death. He decided to chill and slid back cautiously. He was tight though when the men laughed and carried on with their conversation as if nobody else was there. At Fifty-Ninth Street they exited leaving a rich odor of cologne and danger in the air. Tony who’d stayed watchful at the far end of the subway car jostled his way off and followed his Boss undetected.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Selange couldn’t believe the phone call she received. Aldonza was in the principal’s office. The principal did not divulge what the second grader had done, except say she said something inappropriate to a classmate. Selange was livid; the girl had a mouth like her father except there wasn’t the usage of profanities but had adapted a sarcastic quip far more offensive. Where she learned this tone of speech was beyond a mother’s understanding, especially when Selange never spoke that way to anyone.

Estefan as her ever-present escort she arrived at the school. He waited when she entered the principal’s office where Aldonza sat, arms crossed, defiant and rolling eyes at the teacher hovering there. Selange noticed the principal seemed uncomfortable and her suspicions were confirmed when she apologized for having to call Selange at work. “Lo siento Senora Diaz, I wish I did not have to bother you but your daughter’s profesora insisted that we talk immediately about something Aldonza has said.”

Mother sat on the bench with her daughter. Rod straight she waited to hear what crime a child committed to have a parent summoned in such a way. “I’m listening.”

Aldonza’s teacher couldn’t wait to recant the horrible tale. “Aldonza threw a fit in class, knocking over a boy’s pencil case and yelled he was still getting breastfed by his mother.”

Selange’s initial reaction was shock but then she wanted to laugh, like seriously, the remark was funny but of course she didn’t. Instead as a responsible parent she inquired, “Did I miss something because you didn’t tell me what cause her to throw a fit, and you only mentioned her reaction?”

The teacher frowned. “It does not matter what happened prior to this behavior. It is how she handled it that concerns me.”

Oh, now damn, why did the woman say that? “Well, Profesora, maybe what occurred prior doesn’t concern you but it certainly concerns me. Since you can’t articulate the entire event I think this meeting is premature.” Selange stood putting out her hand to her daughter. Aldonza’s small fingers clasped hold and she smiled ruefully as her mother concluded. “When you have investigated what happened thoroughly and can relay what this boy did before my daughter reacted ‘inappropriately’ then we can have an informed and intelligent conversation. Buenos dias Profesora y Principal.”

In the backseat of the chauffeured car, away from judgmental looks is when Selange opened a dialogue with Aldonza. “So, what really happened sweetheart?”

“Miguel is always bothering me. He moves my things and makes fun of me.”

“How does he make fun of you?”

“He sticks out his tongue when the teacher isn’t looking and put up his middle finger.”

“He does?”

“Yes,” Aldonza shared more. “He says I’m lucky I’m pretty.”

“Really?”

“Yes mommy.”

“Is this what he said today?”

“He says all kinds of stupid stuff but today what really made me mad is when we returned from lunch and I went to sit and he pulled my chair and made me fall but the teacher never sees any of that. He’s the teacher’s pet!”

“I see.”

“Yes,” Aldonza said and wrinkled her nose. “He makes me sick. I want to punch him in the face!”

“Have you told the teacher when he does this?”

“Yes and she doesn’t do anything.”

“Did you tell her today what happened?”

“Why should I if she only makes him say sorry and then he does it again?”

Selange nodded. “Okay, I will deal with the teacher and the boy’s parents, but sweetheart you have to watch what you say. That was a very mean thing to say to the boy, just like what he does hurts your feelings. We can hurt people all the time with words, do you understand?”

Aldonza sighed. “Yes mommy.”

Selange hugged her daughter. “I love you hija.”

“I love you too.”

“I know I’ve been a little busy but I’m not too busy for my girl.”

“I know.”

“Would you like to go with me to see the children in Africa?”

Aldonza sat forward and spun around excitedly. “Me and you, no Sal and the twins?”

“Yep, but Arianna’s coming because she’s helping me. Is that okay?”

“Aunt Ari can come.”

“Thank you. Now, dad and Uncle are on their way home. Why don’t we make Uncle the fudge cookies he likes?”

The girl giggled. “Why don’t we take poop and put whipped cream on top to give to Uncle Geo? I bet he’ll eat it!”

Selange’s eyes widened. “Aldonza!”

Al, honey, please get your ass home ASAP!

***

Sophie patiently waited for the pastries to bake. The woman moving with determined strides from one end to the next of the spacious kitchen hadn’t smiled in the past hour. She was trying desperately to bond with Shanda and aside from Carlo through cooking she found another commonality. Shanda was a very good cook, excellent in fact. The gluten free treats she prepared were quite delicious.  Shanda’s cell rang and she took it from her pocket, looked at the number and put the device right back.

Sophie’s eyebrow rose sharply. Her mouth twisted to speak. “There is a time when grudges must go to bed.”

Shanda screwed her face at the woman’s meddling. She took a seat and lifted the spatula, dipping it in butter cream to spread over flaky crust. “Sophie, no disrespect but I don’t need a lecture right now.”

Giuseppe mother didn’t care and continued. “Sometimes we may need to call upon our sisters in troubled times. Every woman should have a trusted friend.”

A roll of the eyes from Shanda occurred. “To hell with that. I don’t trust anybody but myself.”

“Is that true, think about it?”

Shanda smeared too much cream on the next pastry and grimaced. Sophie talked too much at times. “I did or else I wouldn’t have said it.”

“Do you think carefully before you speak, because I do not feel so?”

Now here we go with the sermons. Why nosy old women are always up in young people’s business? Sheesh, Sophie really needed to get a life other than baking and counseling. “Um, well I can’t help how you feel.”

“Selange is your friend. She is calling you. Did you ever stop to think maybe she is seeking to make amends or she needs someone she trusts to talk to?”

“She’s got bitchy Ari the lawyer. Let her be an adviser.”

Sophie remained patient. Time. Yes, in time she would have Shanda in line. Bambino steps with this one are what she took. She took another spatula out of the drawer and assisted in covering the delicious turnovers. Two dozen were made for Signora Peglesi, Matteo’s mother. Sophie had shared Shanda’s delights and many of her friends loved the sugarless sweet treats with reduced calories. Giuseppe’s fiancé had a talent it appears and when baking she wasn’t as sour. Keeping Shanda busy, assisting in honing her skill would benefit a mother-in-law in the future.

Sophie worked in silence unaware of Shanda’s guilty glances. Giuseppe’s mom’s good intentions were not lost on a future daughter-in-law. For this so-called family peace that everybody wanted she extended an olive branch. “I’ll call the heffa back when we’re done.”

Sophie smiled. “Friends have names and I believe you mean Selange.”

“Yeah, that’s the heffa.”

The smile of a woman broadened. “Signora Peglesi would like you to cater her nephew’s birthday party in September. She said name your price, she will pay it.”

Shanda’s ears picked up at the opportunity to make her own money doing something she loved. A catering business for rich Italians with a sweet tooth was doable; it certainly trumped cleaning dog shit and keeping house!  

CHAPTER EIGHT

Sub-Saharan Africa, the area of the continent of Africa that lies south of the Sahara. Politically, always for the basis of politics are countries divided by religious ideals, socioeconomic status or the color of skin. In this case for geographical purposes Sub-Saharan African is the regions fully or partially located south of the Sahara, excluding Sudan. It contrasts with North Africa, which is considered a part of the Arab world. Somalia, Djibouti, Comoros and Mauritania are geographically part of Sub-Saharan Africa, but also part of the Arab world. Thus the Arab nations were set apart, given distinction which westerners and Europeans muddied with their prejudices to try to sever Egypt, in the north as somehow not part of Africa the continent. Africa from north to south it the Motherland, it is with all countries the further south one goes the climate is hotter, thus many with sun-burned skin.

Gamba’s hand turned the doorknob to the room of the Head Mistress or ‘Mama’ as the deaf children preferred to say. She slept, in a thin shift, translucent in which to see the shiny brown colored skin. The bedroom was cooler, yet the heat persevered. He made no sound as he stepped across the floorboards; only when he sought to do so did others know he was there.