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Roses

Excerpt 2

By Leonardo PizzolatoPublished 3 years ago 8 min read
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August 28th, 1969

The top of the newspaper read. Two months before Frank Scaletta’s twenty-fifth birthday.

Frank sat on a bench downtown in front of a flower display in the courtyard. It was foggy but humid, parents and their kids were walking on either side of the yard with bags from their shopping trips. He used today’s newspaper as a cover as he watched for his target. Nowhere to be seen of yet. Perhaps the tip was shit. He was getting sick and tired of bad tips.

His target wasn’t easy either. Joe “Big Joe” Salsano, boss of the Mainstreet outfit. They ran the show in the southern district, and Frank’s father Mario wanted to move in.

Frank looked to his left, parked at the end of the court were his boys: Rocco Colombo, and Freddie Russo. They were only soldiers and they listened to their captain, and that was Frank. It took his father nearly three years to agree to let him into the family business. To his father, he was supposed to be the kid that broke away from it, but Frank never intended to.

Next to their Continental was a payphone, if he didn’t see Joe, he’d have to call his father. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, the Don never enjoyed getting disappointing news, and Frank never enjoyed giving it.

The boys watched Frank from the car. Freddie had his arm dangling out the passenger’s side window. Rocco was smoking a cigarette, blowing the smoke out his window.

“Think he’ll show?” Rocco asked, watching a group of women walking across the crosswalk laughing together. They seemed to be having a good time. What he would give to be with them.

Freddie didn’t respond immediately; he was playing with his lighter. He looked out towards Frank, “I’m not sure. We’ve been chasing this fool for too long. Bout as slippery as the other bastard.” He let out a sigh.

Frank set the paper aside. He was becoming impatient, then a boy walked into the alleyway between the bakery and restaurant. He caught Frank’s attention. The way he was carrying himself had made it seem he was meeting someone back there.

He looked at the car and used his head to signal the alleyway for Freddie. Freddie shook Rocco’s arm. “Franks got something.” He was trying to get a good view of the alleyway without raising any suspicions.

These scouting missions were always supposed to be inconspicuous. Frank was good at it, that’s why he wasn’t in the car. The fog had made the day a perfect one.

The kid was still in the alleyway, Frank nor his associates had a clear line of sight down the alley. All they could do was hope he would come out the same side. The buildings were lined with brick and the only things in the alley were dumpsters and fire escapes.

Ten minutes passed and the kid showed his face again. This time he had something in his hand. It was a little package, but Frank was able to catch a glimpse of it.

The sun started to peak through the clouds. Some people in the courtyard shared enthusiasm. Nobody liked a gloomy shopping day.

The cheering would be a perfect time to move on the kid. Rocco noticed this and revved the car’s engine and took the car around the courtyard to block the child’s escape.

The kid rounded the corner and picked up his pace. Frank didn’t want to panic but something in him was trying to get him to. He heard a car driving towards them.

Rocco, you sonofabitch. He smiled to himself.

Frank was now behind the kid and the car was in front. The kid turned to face Frank, he looked like he was expecting him. He handed Frank the small package. “Joe said to tell you that you need to learn how to tail better.” He then darted off back into an alley. Frank motioned for the boys not to follow.

The package was wrapped in newspaper. Once he tore that off there was a small box, opening it revealed a black man’s ring finger. Frank’s heart sank. He knew who the finger belonged to because of the family’s diamond baguette ring. It was Travis Kray, his father’s lifelong friend.

Frank looked up at the boys. “We need to visit the Don.”

The Rawleigh building was where all the Scaletta business went down. Don Scaletta stood at the end of the table. Looking out of the windows, overlooking downtown. He loved this town, and he loved this view even more.

One of Mario’s guards walked into the room. The sun was beaming through the window. Mario turned and it was Vito, one of the best contract killers in the Midwest.

They met in New York, and after the collapse of their outfit, Mario convinced Vito to travel west with him. Ever since they have been ruling the city of Freeport.

The population stood at 4.3 million people. Significantly lower than New York, and a hell of a lot easier to manage for Mario and his men. Although, back in the day, Mario was only a capo.

“Your son is here with bad news,” Was all Vito said until Frank stepped into the room. Vito walked out, shutting the door behind him. The package was still in his hand, his head held low.

“You let him get away?” Mario demanded. He was already displeased but kept his temper. “We’ll have to up our scouts in the south district.” He turned back to the window.

Frank pulled out one of the guest chairs in front of Mario’s desk and sat. His heart pumping, bad news about business was one thing, but news of a friend dying was another. The Don never took it easy.

The mahogany desk glistened in the sunlight. Two phones sat atop, one white, one red. Red for discreet calls only. If that phone rang, it meant that something terrible had happened. That was the phone he received the news of John F. Kennedy’s assassination. Mario told his son that job was executed perfectly. “No one will suspect a thing,” he said.

Frank was nervous. Travis had been with Mario since he moved into the city. He was the one who taught Mario the ins and outs, and that included the Capone tunnels. Those tunnels were the Scaletta’s golden ticket.

The Capone tunnels were a vast network of tunnels that worked from bars and hideouts. The idea was to give an easy way to gangsters to move throughout the city without getting busted. The best part was, they all lead to the bottom of this building.

“You might want to take a seat, pops.” He let out a long sigh.

Frank told him about the kid that he remembered from one of the scout’s houses running into the alleyway. Coming out with the package and the message from Big Joe.

That’s when Frank pushed the package across the desk towards Mario. Once opened, Mario became infuriated. Frank never heard his father shout that much his whole life.

“I’m going to phone Lincoln and have him come up here. I’d rather give him the news face to face.” Mario regained his composure. Lincoln was Travis’s son. He lived in New Orleans with his mother. Travis had to move to Freeport due to safety concerns in 59’. As he met Mario, he was able to work off a debt that he owed the mob families down south. That was only because Mario had offered to help him fix the problem, he had also made it possible for Travis’s family to lead a normal life. This made Travis feel as if he owed Mario an eternal debt and has worked for him ever since.

“Wasn’t he in Vietnam?” Frank inquired. He wasn’t entirely sure if he had, last he heard the kid graduated high school. Travis only ever talked about him to Mario, other than that he was very private about his family.

Mario nodded. “He was a hero. Travis was so immensely proud of him. I’m just worried about what he might do when he finds out what happened to the poor sonofabitch. I’m worried about the people who did it.” He smirked.

“You think he’ll help us deal with this problem?” Frank adjusted in his seat. The chair was leather, and Frank didn’t like the fact that he would slip around the chair gradually throughout meetings with his father.

“I’m hoping he will. I plan on giving him the same offer I gave Travis. I have no doubt he’ll take it.” Mario removed the ring from the severed finger gently. He was going to offer it to Lincoln.

The next day Frank and his boys were tasked with ransacking a hideout that some of their scouts said Big Joe was hiding out at. He was known for switching hideouts regularly.

They were all in the continental. Frank was in the passenger seat and Freddie was in the back. The closer they got to the east side the more potholes they ran over.

Frank watched as they passed houses and families hanging around their front porches. It was a nice day for August weather, people were clearly trying to soak up all the sun they could.

Some women wore sunhats with sunglasses while they read a book as their kids played with the neighbor’s kids. That’s what Frank loved most about Freeport, the hospitality everyone had towards their neighbors.

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Leonardo Pizzolato

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