Cigar Bar (11 page)

“I remember him sayin’ he was goin’ west. I think he jumped on eighty.”

“All right now, here’s the good thing. One: Your poor mom doesn’t have to hear you scream. And two: For being straight up with us, we’re gonna let you and your mother live.”

Spazo cut in. “The bad part is…” He paused, then got right up in the young man’s face. “If any fuckin’ thing happens to my little sister, I’ll be back for you
and
that fuckin’ old bitch in the room! And that is a problem!”

“Yo,” Ghetto asked, “where the fuck is the money?”

“What money?” Flaco tried to act stupid.

“Uh-huh, see right there. I knew I was gonna have a chance at your chin. Perfect.” Ghetto balled his fist and hit the man as hard as he could. Flaco did a back flip over the bed. “Now, motherfucker, where the fuck is the motherfuckin’ money?!”

“All right, all right!” Flaco yelled through a bloody mouth. “It’s under the bed!”

Ghetto pulled a bag from underneath the bed. In it was at least $80,000. “Oh shit!

“Jackpot!” Ghetto hollered, looking in the bag. “Hey, Boon, you and Jimmy grab those two bags.”

Flaco said, “Yo, listen, man, the guy I sell these guns for is gonna wanna know who you are. They might fuckin’ kill me!” Flaco was scared and tried reasoning with Spazo and Ghetto. “Please, let me keep the fuckin’ guns or the goddam money! I need something to give them!” Flaco begged.

“Motherfucker, eat a dick!” they said as they robbed him of the bags of guns and money.

Spazo turned and looked at the man standing with his mother. “If I was you, I’d bounce because those same motherfuckers coming to get you won’t hesitate to take your fuckin’ mom out either.” He laughed as he closed the door

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Flaco screamed. He ran to the phone and called his sister out in Jersey. He paced back and forth as her phone rang. His anxiety peaked through the roof. “Maria, what the fuck?”

“What, boy?
Damn,
why you calling me? I’m at work and shit. I don’t have time for your shit now, Flaco.”

“Fucking listen, Maria! I need you to come pick up Mom right now! I’m in some shit that I don’t think I can come back from. Okay? Maria, I don’t want them to fuckin’ hurt Mom!”

Maria barked, “Stop playing with me, boy! I gotta go back to work!”

“Maria!” Flaco screamed. “I’m not kidding! You gotta come and get Mom before these Ukrainian fucks come looking for their shit!!”

What Spazo didn’t know was that he had just stolen from the same Ukrainian mobsters who had his sister. When the Ukrainians found out that they were robbed, Flaco would be a dead man. They were on their way over to pick up the money when Flaco got robbed. “Never mind,” Flaco said. He sounded defeated. “I’m fucking bringing her to you. And, listen: Don’t tell anybody in the Bronx where she is!! No fuckin’ body, okay?”

His sister began to get a little scared. “What the fuck did you do, Flaco?
Damn!
Why must you continue to get this family into your shit? After you drop Mommy off, don’t
ever
come back! Fuck, we’re better off without you, Flaco!”

It hurt him to hear her words, but he also knew that it was true. He had a plan. He’d give it about a month or so and then contact Tony. He didn’t know where he’d go until then. What he
did
know was that he had to get the fuck out of there immediately.

“Mom, grab your bag and let’s go!”

“Oh, Danny, why do you do this to me all the time? Why? I don’t want to leave all my things here, Danny.”

“Ma, I’m sorry,” he said. “If we stay here, these things won’t matter. I’ll have someone come pick this stuff up and put it in storage, okay, Ma? But right now, we gotta bounce!”

Reluctantly, she went with him. As he strapped his mother into the front seat, he looked in his rearview mirror and saw a car pull up and men get out and walk up to his door, He crawled over his mother.

“Danny, what are you doing now?” It’s a good thing that he was skinny, because he was able to turn around and start the car and pull off down the street without being seen.

Tony

A day had passed since Tony had fallen asleep. He knew that he had to get out of there, but he was still sick. The minute he stood up, he threw up all over the room. He stumbled to the sink to wash his face and rinse his mouth. Tony looked over at the dresser, and his heart nearly jumped from his chest.

“Huh? That bitch!” he screamed out, thinking Becky had stolen his briefcase.

He rushed out, but then remembered his gun was under the pillow. He stepped back into the room, grabbed it, and then went looking for his prey. Tony entered the front office and went to the desk, but he noticed something strange.

The manager was in a back room with the door wide open. He was using a hammer to bang on his briefcase, attempting to get it open. Tony couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Motherfucker!” he screamed out as he rushed over the counter, gun in hand.

The crazy dude saw him, grabbed a shotgun, and said, “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing, mister?”

Tony looked at the man’s hand. His finger wasn’t even on the trigger. Tony hit the man twice.
Pop! Pop!
The bullets felt hot in the man’s body, but Tony could have killed him. Instead, he shot him twice in the leg. He walked over, took his briefcase, and said, “I’m checking out, fucker!”

The man on the floor was writhing in pain. “I can’t believe you fuckin’ shot me!” he cried out. “It fuckin’ hurts!
Ouch!
Dammit!”

“Look,” Tony said to the man, “I don’t have time to sit here and negotiate a fuckin’ deal with you to get my shit back! This way, I save us both some time!”

With tears streaming down his face, he screamed, “Why would you do this to me?”

Tony turned to exit and there she stood, the pretty girl he had lay with. “Take me with you!” she said. Becky had her bag packed and was ready to go. She said, “Uncle Gene has been raping me since I was a little girl. He has cameras in all the rooms, and if I stay here, he’s going to kill me!”

Tony looked at the man on the floor, shook his head, handed her the gun, and said, “I’ll be in the car. You’re gonna have to drive.”

With her hands shaking, she took the gun, aimed it at the man on the floor, and yelled, “You piece of shit!”

“Now, come on! Come on!” Gene repeated over and over. “You don’t wanna do this! You’re gonna go to jail forever when they catch you! Why don’t you put the gun down now, come on over here, and help me out?” he demanded sternly.

Slowly, she raised the gun. She began to think back on all the times he had raped her. She could see the first time it happened, when she was only six years old. Her alcoholic biker parents cared for nothing or no one except for traveling the country and getting into all kinds of trouble. Her mother gave birth to her while on the road. Her parents continued traveling the country for six years, dragging the baby along with them. One day they just decided to leave her at the family’s motel with her sleazy, pedophile uncle, who tortured Becky for years.

Without a second to waste, she fired three times. Each bullet struck the man in the chest. “You fuckin’, bitch!” he yelled as he lay there dying.

Becky began to cry. She felt free, as if she had just killed Satan. She stood up on her toes as she watched the life leave his body. A broad smile crossed her face, and she turned and calmly walked out, gun still in hand.

Becky got into the car and looked at Tony. He didn’t look good. She felt that he was her savior, and, for that reason, she was determined to take care of him.

“I got you, baby,” she said. “But where are we headed?”

Tony replied, “Just get on the highway and drive until I can’t take the fuckin’ pain no more.” Without Hesitation, the girl obliged, and off they went into the early morning.

Becky looked over at him sleeping and began to smile. She wondered what he’d been going through, what he’d been running from. For the first time, she was happy and she couldn’t wait to find out.

Becky drove for about ten straight hours, only stopping once for gas. Then suddenly, Tony woke up, screaming, “Ah!” he was doubled over, holding his body. “Wait! Wait, we have to go back to New York. I need to get something…or pull over, please! We can find it somewhere else.”

She was startled but she wanted to please him. “Okay, where do you want me to go?” Becky pulled off the highway, following a sign that said Seattle. She drove around for about an hour, looking for whatever Tony needed, but she was frustrated that she couldn’t find anything. She neared a corner and looked up at a sign on a restaurant that read “Room for Rent.”

She shook him. “Tony, it says ‘Room for rent.’ Do you wanna get it?”

He pulled himself up as best he could. “Pull over,” he said. He reached into the briefcase and handed the girl $1000. “Yes, go get it and tell them not to bother us.”

She exited the car and ran into the small restaurant. Just inside was an old man of about 75 sitting at a table. His wife was behind the counter, washing one dish. Tony could see the transaction from the car. The old man walked from the restaurant and wobbled over to the car. As soon as Tony saw the old man, he thought of his father. He knew that it was a message sent from beyond.

“Are you okay, son?” the old man asked.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Tony replied, trying his best to look normal. He was sweating, yet he was cold and shaking. Then the pain kicked in. “Ohhh!” he screamed.

Tony looked at the elderly man and tucked another thousand dollars in his pockets. “No matter what, please tell no one that I’m here. I will take care of you, I promise,” Tony glanced around and then asked, “Is there anywhere you can hide my car?”

The old man looked at Tony and said, “My name’s Joe, son.” He decided not to tell his wife Martha about what was just said. “Okay, son, come on,” he said, helping Tony out of the car. “I can put your car in my garage, so don’t you worry. It’ll be safe. You just come on here now and get yourself together.” He and Becky carried Tony inside the restaurant and up the stairs, while the old lady looked on with compassion.

“Oh my, what happened?”

“Nothing, Martha. You just go back over there. I’ll be down to talk to ya in a moment,” Joe replied kindly.

They made it upstairs and were taken to a room. Downstairs was where the couple lived. They had one furnished bedroom upstairs, with an old dresser and a queen-size bed. The bathroom and dining area were located downstairs.

They walked Tony over to the bed and gently lay him down. Then Joe said, “If I can get you something to eat, young lady, just come down, and my Martha will make it for you.”

Becky said, “Okay, thank you, sir.”

“No problem, but…uh, is your friend going to be okay?” Joe was truly concerned.

Tony sat up and said, “My father passed away and I promised him I wouldn’t do drugs anymore. I’m kicking off of heroin. No matter what, I ask you both, from here on out, don’t let me leave! Please, don’t give me drugs! Please.”

“You got it,” the old man said.

Becky looked at Tony and said, “Yes, of course.” Then they looked at each other with a bit of concern.

The first few days were horrible for Tony, especially day one. By day five, Tony was sweating all day, and at night he threw up on himself constantly. Through it all, Becky was there to wash him, to hold his hands, and to keep him calm as he lay in the bed. As the days passed, she began to care more and more about him. She genuinely wanted him to get better.

Day 6

“Becky, it hurts so badly! Becky, please!” he begged and begged to no avail. They watched Tony like a hawk. A couple of times, he had made it downstairs, but there was nowhere for him to go once he got down there. There was always someone there to bring him back up. He was too weak to try to climb back up the stairs since he hadn’t eaten anything in days.

Becky did her best to bring him food, but it only sat on the dresser, getting cold. Eventually, she just gave him sips of water every now and then to keep him hydrated. On the eve of the seventh day, Tony’s heart stopped. He had been tossing and turning so much the past few days. Poor Becky was so tired that she had fallen fast asleep. No one knew that he was not breathing.

“Tony, what the hell are you doing here?” Tony opened his eyes and saw his father.

“What the fuck?!” he said.

Tony Senior said, “You don’t belong here, Tony. Go back home.”

He began to cry. “But, Dad, no…I wanna stay with you here.”

“Now how fucking selfish is that?” his father replied. “Do you remember what I asked you to do for me?”

“Yeah, Dad. You told me to stop using and I have.”

“Yeah, I know. I see everything. But, that’s not the part I’m referring to. I asked you to take care of your mother. How the hell are you gonna be able to do that if you’re up here?”

Tony paused, held one finger in the air, and replied, “I can’t.”

“Exactly,” his father replied. He reached in, gave his son a big hug, and a kiss on his head. “Son, I love you and I’m proud of you, but it’s not over. If you stay straight, I promise you, your life is gonna change, but only you can control what happens to you.”

Then Tony Senior placed his right hand over Tony’s heart. Like a jolt of lightning, a sharp pain shot through his chest so hard that it made him leap to his feet.

Becky screamed when he jumped up. “What the fuck?!”

Tony stood on his feet. He looked down at Becky and said, “Hey, Mama, thanks a million! I owe you my life!”

“No, you don’t,” she replied. “You did this all on your own, but welcome back, Mr. Tony!” Becky smiled at him.

Tony wondered if he should go over and kiss her but thought he’d better not. He had been throwing up for a week. Instead, he just reached in and gave her a tight hug.

Downstairs, the old man had heard the scream, but it took him a minute to get up all those stairs. “Is everything okay up here?” Joe inquired, breathing hard. “You know it takes me a minute to get up here.”

“Yes, sir, Joe,” replied Tony. “As a matter of fact, I’m a little hungry. Do you think I could get something to eat?”