An Ax To Grind
Frank F. Atanacio
From the Sealed Cases of: Nick P.T. Barnum
Case Number# 00004
An ax to grind
Dedicated to the memory of my dear brother
Alfredo Fafa Atanacio
Life stolen by cancer
On December 30th 2004
1
As Willie the Greek stood in front of the judge, only one thing could go through his mind. He knew that he was responsible for the crimes he committed, but he didn’t care. Willie refused to show any remorse. Besides, he had money; in this world, money can buy you anything. Even the best, most respected lawyers will defend someone as sick and twisted as Willie the Greek for the right price.
The Greek was dressed in regular prison rags. His hands and feet were shackled. Any other man would have looked like an animal, or perhaps even withdrawn, but the Greek looked dignified. For the life of me I couldn’t explain it. He just looked dignified.
“ How do you plead?” asked the judge as he stared the Greek down.
“ I’m sorry your honor,” replied the Greek. “ Can you repeat the question?”
The judge was visibly aggravated.
The Greek just smiled.
The Honorable Judge Paul Hauser was a stern man with a very hard looking face. He had served on the bench for the last twenty five years and was nearing retirement. I just knew that this judge would be the one to finally plant Willie the Greek. He was a no nonsense individual. He was the type of man that would walk into a room and his mere presence demanded respect.
Some people in positions of power demand respect from their subordinates as a means of keeping order in the work place. But when an individual like Judge Hauser talks, people cannot help but to listen. He was a strong and capable sitting judge. He rules his bench justly, and he doesn’t like wise guys.
Nevertheless, the courtroom was different. The air in Bridgeport Connecticut was stale, and everyone knew it was because of Willie the Greek. He could have probably cared less as to who was in front of him on that bench. Justice was merely a word to him. His arrogance showed through like a gravy stain on a white tee shirt. There was just no hiding it. He wore a smirk on his face like it was a prize medal. When the judge spoke, he obviously did not care to listen. He had his own agenda, I just couldn’t tell what it was. As a matter of fact, no one could.
“ Sir,” began the judge. “ You are being accused of three counts of aggravated assault, and resisting arrest. You were also charged with dealing drugs as can easily be proven by the State. The question I ask you young man is this, do you plead guilty or not guilty?”
The Greek just stared at the judge for a moment and then he conferred with his new lawyer, Jack Rizzo. Attorney Rizzo was a very suave and dapper man. His five thousand dollar suits were custom made and fit him as though he was wearing a glove. He was clean shaven and his hair was cut short and cropped on the sides. He has defended big stars and politicians, and all have either been cleared of the charges or have gotten off with nothing more than a slap on the wrist. This king of defense was certainly not cheap, but the Greek was able to afford it–He simply had money to burn.
“ Your honor,” began the Greek, after a lengthy discussion with Attorney Jack Rizzo. “ I plead not guilty to all the charges against me.”
“ You do understand that the State can prove their case?” asked the judge.
“ I do sir,” replied the Greek.
The judge grimaced and cleared his throat.
“ And thank you sir,” the Greek added sheepishly.
“ Therefore young man,” replied the judge. “ This case will now go to trial and will resume in two weeks in courtroom C. During this time a jury will have been selected and you will go before them. My suggestion to you sir is that you make sure that you bring your hot shot attorney with you. I believe this time you’re gonna need him. This session is now adjourned!”
With the heavy thud of the judge’s gavel hitting the stand, it was over. The Greek looked around the courtroom for a brief instance and that’s when my eyes met his. He had taken the criminal system up to a new low. He knew that, and it just made him feel all the more smug.
“ Look at him,” Detective Peter O’Brien commented. “ I just can’t seem to win one with that cat.”
“ The case is going to trial,” I said.
“ To trial?” he shrugged his shoulders.
I nodded unconvincingly.
O’Brien looked at me and realized that my comment was empty. Going to trial was nothing new for the Greek. It was another direction to the exit doors. I knew it as well, but I just felt like I had to say something. Anything.
O’Brien was a dedicated veteran for the Bridgeport Police Department. He was a tall man with a football player’s build. He had a shaven head that was always attended to very carefully. It was almost his pride and joy. He never had a nick mark on it, and it was always waxy like the skin of an apple.
“ I’ll tell you something, Nick,” he said.
I nodded.
“ Captain Roque is certainly not going to like it,” he said as he tried keeping his voice down. “ He’s not going to like it one bit.”
“ I know,” I added. “ But it looks like you’re taking this very well. Usually you blow up and make an Irish spectacle of yourself.”
He smiled.
“ I guess the Greek is not getting to you as much.”
“ I’m trying not to let that creep get the best of me,” he replied. “ I’m also learning to control my temper.”
“ Good,” I said. “ I hate it when he drives you up the wall.”
“ I hate it when he drives me up the wall too,” he said. “ I get cranky, and I pick on my fellow officers, and co-workers.”
“ I heard,” I said. “ You begin the name calling.”
He agreed by nodding.
“ You lose your temper too,” I added. “ I don’t think you’re very attractive when you lose your temper.”
“ I know, I know,” he half shouted. “ I get it. I’m not a nice guy when I’m in a bad mood!”
I smiled.
“ Lets go break the news to Captain Roque,” he said.
“ And ruin his day?”
“ Hey, if mine is ruined, why shouldn’t his be?”
“ He’s the captain,” I said.
“ Come on Nick,” O’Brien begged. “ I need some support.”
“ No,” I said. “ You go break the news. I have a great deal of paper work to tackle. Janet hates it when I don’t finish the paper work. She calls me lazy, and sloppy.”
“ Doesn’t she work for you?”
“ You try telling her that,” I replied.
He smiled.
“ She’s still the best secretary any private eye can have,” I said. “ I think.”
“ She is,” he confirmed. “ When you see her, tell her I asked about her.”
“ Of course.”
“ I’m out of here,” he said as he walked out of the courtroom.
I knew that the case was bothering him, because he didn’t like the way things kept going for Willie the Greek. However, he hid it better than I expected. Detective Peter O’Brien was finally calming down. Or storing it all in.
2
Living in the City of Bridgeport proved challenging, but nevertheless it was home to many good people. And many good people came from here. One of the city’s finest invited me to lunch at Rainbow’s restaurant over on the Eastside. It was a good eatery, and I’ve always enjoyed the food there.
I met Victor Cruz at the restaurant at about noon time. He was on his way to work so he came in his police uniform. Cruz was one of the nicest guys on the force. He was a tall olive skin male with a receding hair line. He had a European complexion and dark eyes. He was putting on a little more weight around the mid-section, but he was still very agile.
“ Hey Nick,” he called.
“ What’s going on Vic?”
“ Getting that Willie the Greek behind bars is looking good for us,” he said. “ I am so surprised he got a little sloppy.”
“ I told him before,” I said. “ You can’t be king of the hill forever.”
“ I guess his time is coming,” said Vic. “ did you get us a seat?”
I pointed to a table near the back of the restaurant. “I got a cozy table for two.”
“ You better go ahead with that crap,” he replied.
I smiled.
We walked to the table and we sat down. The attractive waitress with long black hair quickly came to greet us. She had olive skin, and heavy Hispanic features. She was a stunning young lady with a to die for smile.
“ Hello guys,” she said. “ What can I get you?”
“ Besides your phone number?” I asked.
She just winked as she kept the pen to the notepad.
“ I’ll have white rice and red kidney beans,” said Cruz. “ I also want a good piece of pork chop, and a slice of avocado on the side. I’ll also have two bottles of those Goya Maltas as well.”
“ And you?” she said while looking very flirtatiously.
“ The same,” I replied. “ But instead of Maltas, I’ll have a Coke.”
She wrote everything down and rushed off to get our order processed.
“ What a nice looking lady,” I said almost in a whisper.
“ Zoraida?”
“ You know her?”
“ Of course I do,” he replied. “ We went to Bassick High School together.”
“ And you’re keeping her from the great Nick Barnum?”
“ Great my ass.”
I smiled.
“ She’s a good girl,” he said. “ But I think she married her high school sweetheart. I don’t know if they’re still together, but I know they were dating for a long time.”
“ So,” I said. “ You’re telling me that there is a slight chance that she can be single?”
“ I guess.”
“ Good,” I said as I tapped the table. “ Good for me.”
“ Maybe for you,” he said jokingly. “ But I know, not for her.”
“ Wow, I guess you really think I’m a bad guy?”
“ I don’t think,” he joked. “ I know.”
The waitress came to our table and placed the drinks in front of us. She looked at me and I winked. Cruz shook his head at me, and I smiled.
“ How’s your partner?” I asked.
“ Speak of the devil,” replied Cruz as Alfredo Fuentes came into the restaurant. He looked around until he spotted us. I waved him over and he quickly approached.
“ What’s up?” I asked.
“ Good news,” he smiled.
“ Good news?” asked Cruz.
“ Willie the Greek got thirty days!”
“ Yes!” I shouted.
“ Thirty days is nothing,” Cruz added. “ I was hoping he’d get years. Damn, I would have settled for months.”
“ Hey,” said Fuentes. “ Something is something. The courts are finally wearing down that coat of Teflon.”
“ I agree,” I said.
“ That judge is something else,” added Fuentes.
“ I still don’t think it’s enough,” said Cruz.
“ Hey Vic,” I started. “ It keeps Willie the Greek off the streets for thirty days. I’m sure even you’d have to agree that is really is something.”
He tightened his lips “ I guess.”
Alfredo Fuentes was just a little bit taller than Cruz. He had a slightly darker complexion, and had a better physical appearance. They were both in good shape at one time because they had played Jai-alai in Milford before that complex closed. They were good athletes, and had excellent sportsmanship attitudes. I use to enjoy watching that fast paced game. It was almost like watching handball, but they used a basket on their right hand called a Cesta. That basket was used to catch the ball and then hurl it back at a wall at a high rate of speed.
“ Can I sit and eat with you guys?” asked Fuentes. “ I mean I really like the waitress, and I’ve been always trying to hit on her every chance I get.”
“ What?” I said in shock. “ You’re trying to hit on that waitress?”
“ Zoraida,” he said while nodding his head. “ She is beautiful.”
“ Did you know she might be married?” I asked.
“ I thought she was divorced,” he replied.
“ So that’s what you might think,” I said.
“ Hey Al,” Cruz interrupted. “ Nick has the hots for her too. He’s trying to throw you off course.”
“ So you’re blocking?”
“ I’m blocking like a mother,” I replied.
“ Then I guess it’s on!” he half shouted.
“ You got it!”
“ And you two are crazy,” added Cruz.
“ We’ll see who is crazy,” said Fuentes. “ When that beautiful girl is hanging on my arm. I’ll parade her around you guys until your eyes get weary and fall out.”
“ A dream sequence, no doubt?” I said
“ It’s a reality Nick, deal with it.”
I smiled.
I couldn’t help noticing that his ego fell just a few feet away from us, and he was hesitant about retrieving it.
The waitress walked up to the table and brought over our food. She placed our food down neatly in front of us, and she turned to Fuentes. “ Did you want to order something?”
“ Just a soda,” he nervously replied in a polite tone. “ Please.”
“ Hey Zoraida,” Cruz started. “ How would you like to go to a movie and maybe get some dinner afterwards?”
“ When?”
“ Friday evening?”
“ You know, I’d love that,” she replied. “ Wait a minute, let me go write down my address and phone number.”
“ Sure,” he sheepishly replied. “ You go do that.”
I turned to Fuentes, but he was already gazing at me. My ego came crashing down and it too fell a few feet away from me. I wanted to retrieve it, but I couldn’t believe what just happened. Cruz’s action had just left me speechless.
“ You guys are talkers,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “ I am a doer!”
We nodded.
3
“ No matter how hard you try, you can’t wake the dead,” Mable Manda told a young woman crying over her husband’s casket. The young, thin woman wore so much make-up, it was funny. Manda couldn’t for the life of her understand what her husband Nelson saw in that clown faced woman.
“ Nelson, please come back!” The woman moaned, as if she were in pain. “ Take me instead!”
“ Get a hold of yourself woman! You’re making a fool out of yourself!” Shouted Mable Manda. “ Nelson was sixty eight years old. There’s no way on this good God’s earth that he would have had any kind of life with you. I know for a damn fact that you wouldn’t have wiped his ass. Hell, he was married to me, and I wouldn’t do it!”
Mable Manda was a tired old black woman who saw a whole lot of life in the south. She moved to Bridgeport Connecticut to be near her son and grandson. She loved her children, and she wanted to spend her golden years with them. She thought it was a godly thing to do. She had very smooth and thin skin. She was slightly over weight, but she carried it well. She always wore a neatly combed wig, and her face never hosted make-up.
The young woman looked at Mable Manda with tears rushing down her face and said, “He was right! You are the devil! Nelson was right!”
“ Fix your make-up,” she replied. “ You look like a clown.”
She ignored Mable Manda.
The funeral home on Park Avenue was crowded. Detective Peter O’Brien was with me as we attended Nelson Manda’s funeral. She was a decent woman, and I personally loved her dearly. She was one of Bridgeport Connecticut’s finest citizens. I had to come down to share her loss, and express my condolences. O’Brien felt the exact same way.
With the young woman crying over the casket being the exception, everyone wore black and had a pink carnation pinned to them. Mable Manda told me that her husband loved carnations. The crowd paid their respects and sat down for a minute or two. I never knew Nelson Manda had so many friends.
“ Mable, you coming over for dinner?” asked a tall black woman wearing a veil over her face.
“ Honey,” she replied. “ I cannot.”
“ I’m cooking lean meat tonight,” she added.
“ Oh God bless you honey,” she replied. “ But I really can’t.”
Then it hit me. I knew where I saw that tall thin woman before. Lean Meat? With her food stamp problems, I doubted it. Her son always had a bad habit of stealing them and using them to buy beer from that Latin Bodega on Pembroke Street. She would try to hire me so I could track him down; but she wanted to pay me in food stamps. I did the job for her, but I didn’t take any money. I couldn’t dare to have her part with her only source of income.
She looked at me several times waiting for me to acknowledge her, and I finally did.
“ Hello Mister Nick,” she said from across the room.
I just smiled and waved. I didn’t know the proper etiquette for greetings at a funeral. I also didn’t want to be rude to her.
The crowd was filing in nicely, and it was good to see people coming in to pay their respects. O’Brien hit me on the shoulder as he pointed out Joanne Parkway. She was a wiry white woman with lots of bleached blonde hair. She loved black men, and she would try to fall all over them. She even tried to pick some up at the funeral. That was totally disrespectful. Some of the black men gave her a once over glance, but I didn’t think it was because they lusted after her. They probably thought she looked stupid; plain stupid.
I looked at Mable Manda not realizing that she was going to be part of my life for months to come. She lost her husband, but the sorrow didn’t end there for her. Something was going to happen. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but I sensed it in my gut. She had more to come. Somehow, I just knew it.
4
I was walking toward the entrance of the Trumbull Mall on the J C Penny side. I didn’t realize it at first, but I suspected that the girl that opened the left side door was Zoraida. Today she had on a white blouse and a short red mini-skirt. I noticed the legs, and something in the back of mind kept whispering Down boy. I couldn’t believe I’d bump into her away from Rainbows. Now here she is, her body toned and lean. Her legs are simply to die for.
“ Hey Nick,” she said softly.
I smiled. Say something to her, you idiot!
“ Shopping today?” she asked.
“ Oh, always.” Boy that was smart, you idiot.
She smiled.
“ Zoraida,” I started. “ I meant to ask you, um, um.”
She tilted her head slightly and smiled.
Janet had always told me that I had the gift of Gab, but on the day I needed that gift, it failed me. It was a clear, calm, lazy day, and nothing was stopping me from telling Zoraida that I had a big time crush on her. Boy, I felt sixteen again.
“ Nick,” she said calmly. “ Are you trying to ask me out?”
“ Of course not,” I replied without realizing what I just said.
“ Oh, my bad.”
“ I mean yes, err,” I was searching for words. “ Yes, of course, and I’m an idiot.”
She laughed.
“ So, how did it go last night?” I asked, shuffling my feet like a child from side to side. “ I mean with your date with what’s his name.”
She smiled. “ It was an act. Vic knew you guys liked me, so he had to throw a wrench into the situation. I went along with it because the looks on your faces was worth far more than the five percent tip you left.”
“ You’re bad,” I said. “ But I like bad. Was it five percent?”
“ Sadly,” she smiled. “ Up for a Mochachino?”
“ What the hell is that?” I asked.
“ Flavored coffee.”
“ I’ll have a regular coffee with you.”
She smiled.
“ Hey Nick!” someone called.
I turned around and I saw Edgar Perez walking out of the mall with two shopping bags. He was fully dressed in his Bridgeport Police Uniform, so I knew he was going on duty.
“ Hey Eggy,” I replied.
“ Get a job!” he shouted. “ And stop trying to pick up women at the mall.”
“ Isn’t it time for another doughnut break?”
He grimaced.
“ You’re mean,” Zoraida whispered to me.
I smiled.
“ Hey Nick,” Eggy called. “ I’m on my doughnut break, I have two bags full,”
I smiled and waved as he walked toward the illegally parked a squad car.
“ Tonight then?” she asked.
“ Date?”
She nodded.
“ Yes, of course!”
“ Good,” she added. “ Now that you’ve finally asked. Lets go get some coffee. Regular.”
I frowned. “ I’ll try that flavored stuff, just for you.”
“ You’re all heart.”
“ I know.”
5
Across the playground there was a small white Honda Prelude in an alley way. In the car there were two Hispanic men smoking a blunt. They were each wearing red baseball caps turned around catcher style so that the tip was behind them. One of them had a scar on his left cheek, and dark circles under his eyes. The other one had a goatee, and wore glasses that were purposely missing the lenses.
“ You think he’s coming with the stuff Carlos?”
“ Listen man, you worry too much. I’m telling you don’t worry, he’ll be here.” Carlos replied. “ It’s just a sense of timing. Bolo this will be a piece of cake. I’ve dealt with the Greek before.”
“ How many times?” asked Bolo.
Carlos shrugged as he puffed on the blunt.
“ You know his real name, right?” Bolo asked.
“ Yeah, “ he quickly replied. “ Of course I do.”
“ Is he really Greek?”
“ No,” Carlos chuckled as he choked a bit on the smoke. “ He beat out the original Greek several years ago. I think that cat was Tomas Gustav. Now this Puerto Rican guy calls himself the Greek.”
“ That’s crazy.”
“ It’s because he took the gold chain that Tomas wore that said Da Greek.”
“ Damn,” Bolo expressed. “ That’s a funny story.”
“ You know what’s even funnier,” said Carlos. “ People say that whoever wears that chain will become the new king of the hill. It’s like a status symbol.”
“ Status symbol, like a drug lord?”
Carlos nodded.
“ That is funnier,” Bolo replied as he confusingly began to look around his surroundings with doubt. “ Hey, aren’t we next to a school yard?”
“ We’re no where near the school,” Carlos replied with uncertainty. “ As you can see, we are in an alley way. The school is across the street. We’re cool.”
Bolo noticed that Carlos didn’t sound too convincing, but he shrugged it away.
“ Besides, the Greek won’t pull no tricks here.”
“ I thought you knew him?”
“ Bolo, tricks are tricks,” Carlos explained. “ And anybody could be that silly rabbit.”
Bolo grimaced.
“ Relax man, I told you, we’re cool.”
A white Mustang with a black convertible top and chrome wheels pulled up slowly toward Carlos and Bolo. The windows were heavily tinted and the license plate read DaGreek.
“ That’s him” Bolo nervously shouted.
“ Relax, let me handle this.”
“ Damn Carlos,” Bolo stared. “ I’m so damn nervous, feels like I gotta pee.”
“ It’s your first buy, it’s cool, so relax,” warned Carlos. “ Just do me a favor.”
“ What?”
“ Whatever we do here today, you can’t show fear. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” he continued. “ You can’t let the Greek see you sweat. It’s a sign of weakness, and if we’re going to sell this shit, we can’t put on a face of weakness. Just try and keep a poker face, and remain cool. Can you do that for me?”
“ I’m in for the long haul dawg,” Bolo replied. “ I won’t screw shit up. I’m cool.”
“ That’s all I want to hear,” he said. “ That’s good enough for me.”
Bolo smiled.
“ He’s coming,” Carlos yelled. “ Put out that damn blunt!”
“ Got you,” Bolo replied as he shoved the blunt into the palm of his hand until it went out. He was much too nervous to realize what he had done, but it was a good thing, because he didn’t feel the pain.
The white Mustang pulled up in front of the boys. The driver hesitated for a moment, and then he decided to open his door. He stuck a foot out, and Bolo admired the leather cowboy boot that displayed itself with perfection. The Greek was completely out of the car, but he didn’t close the door. He put his hands on his chest and sucked in some good fresh air.
“ Hey dawg, wassup?” Bolo said nervously.
The Greek did not answer. He just tugged on his black tie he was wearing that matched perfectly with his white suit, and red shirt.
“ You’re not Willie the Greek,” Carlos said.
“ Willie the punk is doing time,” The Greek replied.
“ You’re a new Greek?” asked Bolo.
“ I’m the only Greek!” he shouted. “ The one and only!”
“ The original!” shouted Carlos.
He nodded.
“ Tomas?”
The Greek nodded again. “ I come back to take back what was rightfully mine. I been down too long, and there is no way I’m going to allow a damn Spic to move in on my turf. I’m back baby, so deal with it!”
“ I’m not here to argue about that Tomas,” said Carlos. “ I got no beef with you nor Willie the Greek. I’m just here for business.”
“ There ain’t no other Greek!” he shouted. “ That Spic Willie isn’t Greek so don’t label him that way! Willie just stole my name to boost his career. I don’t like it, and I certainly don’t like people calling him the Greek.”
“ Hey Tomas,” said Carlos. “ Lets just get this over with.”
The Greek grunted as he cleared his throat.
“ We got the money,” said Carlos. “ All we need is the stuff. This can be over in seconds.”
“ Man, aren’t we so damn pushy?” the Greek replied. “ Is there a sale you got to get to?”
“ I just want to end this quickly,” said Carlos.
Bolo appeared to be very nervous and the Greek picked up on that right away. He was quick like that, and that always gave him a certain edge. “ Why is your partner so shaky? Is the mere presence of the Greek too much for him?”
“ Tomas, it’s his first time.”
“ A virgin?” The Greek chuckled. “ I haven’t seen a virgin in a long time. I see we might just have to pop his cherry. Something I’m real good at.”
“ Tomas, don’t worry about that, lets just make the deal so we can get out of here,” said Carlos. “ I don’t like hanging around in alleys. It’s not my style.
“ You got a style?”
Carlos lowered his head slightly.
“ You got a style?” The Greek asked again.
“ No,” Carlos answered. “ I don’t have a style.”
“ Funny,” said the Greek. “ Because I already knew that.”
“ Whatever you say man,” replied Carlos. “ Lets just get this over with. I got things to do, and places to go. There just ain’t no time for this type of crap. Feel me?”
“ What’s the matter Latino! Late for lunch?”
“ It’s not that, I just want to get the stuff and get out of here,” he replied. “ I don’t want to be hanging out here more than I have to. You gotta understand where I’m coming from. I’m sure a big time dealer like you can understand that.”
“ Relax Latino, relax.”
“ I’m Carlos.”
“ Okay my Spic brother.”
“ Look, we got the money, where’s the stuff?”
“ What’s your name little virgin?” The Greek asked as he ignored Carlos.
“ My name is Jaunito, but everyone calls me Bolo,” he replied nervously.
“ Can I call you Bolo?”
He shook his head up and down in a rapid motion.
“ Listen Tomas, we want to buy, are you going to sell?” asked Carlos. “ We want this over with. Lets just say I am in a hurry.”
“ You don’t like my company?” he asked. “ Is that it, Mister Bad Ass?”
Carlos just stared at the Greek.
“ Well Latino, is it?”
“ No, I just don’t think we should be standing here getting to know one another,” said Carlos. “ I know you don’t like me and I sure as hell don’t like you. No disrespect, but this is strictly business, and that’s it. Feel me?”
“ Latino, I feel you,” replied the Greek. “ In other words, you just want my candy, and that’s it?”
“ Look, lets just do this,” said Carlos.
The Greek turned away from Carlos and looked at Bolo. “ What do you think, Bolo? I can call you Bolo, right?”
“ Sure man,” Bolo replied. “ You sure can.”
“ Let me ask you a simple question, virgin,” said the Greek. “ Do you think we should conduct business, and then go on our separate ways? Or perhaps we should get to know one another and politic for a while?”
Bolo looked toward Carlos for moral support, but didn’t get any.
“ What virgin? Do you need his permission to speak?”
“ No,” he mumbled.
“ Then answer my damn question!”
“ Look man, I just wanna do this. I don’t want trouble,” Bolo nervously replied. “ I didn’t think it was going to be this difficult. I thought we all had the same goal. To make money.”
“ Nothing is easy man!” The Greek shouted. “ Nothing, do you hear me virgin?”
Bolo nodded.
“ Nothing!”
Okay,” Bolo said quietly. “ I’m sorry.”
“ Virgin, I see that you can be humble. That’s nice.” He paused briefly and then changed the subject. “ What kind of guns are you guys carrying?”
“ What?” Bolo looked confused.
“ Weapons, what type are you packing?”
Carlos was nervous because of the constant exchange of words. He never had to do this before with Willie the Greek. He knew something wasn’t right. He felt it in his bones. Tomas was up to something, and Carlos just knew it.
“ Look, if you don’t want to sell to us, we’ll leave,” said Carlos. “ It ain’t no skin off my peach. Feel me?”
“ What’s the matter Latino, are you afraid of me?”
“ Come on man,” said Carlos.
“ Are you?”
The Greek walked closer to the boys. He stuck out his hand wanting Bolo to shake it. Bolo looked at it, but did not want to touch it. He didn’t know what the Greek had in mind. He didn’t trust him. He just slowly moved behind Carlos. He felt like a coward, but it didn’t seem to bother him at all.
“ Look man, just forget the whole damn thing,” said Carlos. “ I don’t got time to play these games.”
“ Hey Latino!” The Greek moved closer to Carlos. “ I don’t think you want to get the Greek angry at you. You wouldn’t like him very much if he did.”
Carlos did not reply.
“ How about you,” he stared Bolo down. “ My little virgin?”
Bolo just hung his head.
“ Lets do this one more time,” said the Greek. “ What kind of guns are you carrying? Or do I have to say it in Spanish.”
“ We don’t carry guns with us!” Bolo half shouted.
A sheepish smile crept over the Greek’s face. “ You have no weapons?”
“ With the other Greek, we didn’t need no weapons,” said Carlos.
“ I’m not the other Greek,” he said. “ I don’t think you’re teaching the virgin boy on how to do business properly. One should always carry a weapon if he has cash on him.”
“ We trusted the other Greek,” said Carlos. “ Teaching has nothing to do with buying drugs.”
“ First of all,” the Greek said to Bolo. “ Whenever you bring a new kid to any buy, you have to watch him from a distance. With a gun pointed at me, because you never know what I might be capable of doing. Don’t even trust your own mom when it comes to drugs. I can’t believe you trusted a dirty low-down hood, like that Spic Willie. Secondly, you never let me make conversation. Too much talk is never healthy. Now, do you feel me?
“ I feel you.”
“ Always watch me,” said the Greek.
“ Why?” asked Bolo.
“ Because I might be trying to catch you off guard,” replied the Greek. “ And when you let your guard down, anything could happen. I’m really ashamed of you Carlos. You’ll never be a true teacher. In fact, I think you’re still wet behind the ears. A student, if you will. Now I should be the one to school you idiots. Don’t you think?”
“ Look, I think we should just go,” said Carlos.
“ Oh, but the lessons are not over,” said the Greek.
“ I think they are,” Carlos barked back.
“ No!” shouted the Greek. “ They are not over until I say they’re over! Do you understand me?”
Carlos’s eyes were wide open and he found himself oddly nodding.
“ Good, I’m glad the channels of communications are finally open.”
“ That ain’t right,” Bolo added.
The Greek smiled.
Carlos recognized the smile as a sign of death. “ Run!” he shouted as he pushed past Bolo, almost knocking him to the ground.
The Greek pulled out a chrome plated .45 caliber Colt and began firing. Several shots hit Carlos in the chest, but missed Bolo completely. He dashed across the street in front of the school yard. The Greek opened fire again and sprayed bullets into the yard. Bolo was not hit, but the Greek noticed that some of the children in the schoolyard were falling to the ground. One of the children had taken a bullet to the back of the head. He knew it killed him instantly. He almost expressed a facial concern, but he waved it away quickly. Little did he realize that the boy who was shot was Mable Manda’s grandson. He looked at Carlos and spat in that direction. It was a sign of disrespect, but that was his nature. He made such gestures during every disastrous situation he created. You could almost even consider it his calling card.
6
It was the children’s turn to feel the pain that was floating in the air. The schoolyard was filled with happy children. It was like heaven on earth just knowing that children are enjoying themselves. They were playing lots of different games, and laughing out loud. It was like music to everyone’s ears. Naturally, they were supervised by teachers as they played on the school grounds. The teachers on duty were Miss Carter and Mrs. Johnson. They were standing next to each other engaged in small talk. It was a ritual they did every time they took the children out for play.
Mrs. Johnson was a light skin black woman who had on too much grease in her hair. She also had grease on her forehead. I didn’t think there was a purpose for it, but it was there nevertheless.
Miss Carter was a white teacher with a long crooked nose. The children secretly called her the wicked witch of the west. She wasn’t married and I suspected there weren’t too many guys knocking at her door to fulfill that tall order.
The teachers talked as the children played. It was almost mechanically portrayed.
There was a pretty Latino girl with red hair standing next to Mable Manda’s grandson, Lil Puddin. That of course was his nickname, and only the adults in his family used it. She had big green eyes, and a very fair complexion. She was in fact the prettiest little girl on the playground. Lil Puddin had such a big crush on her. Her name was Emily Rodriguez, and she was just eleven years old. Lil Puddin always talked about her when he was with Mable. She was always the topic of conversation, and Mable Manda just loved listening to her grandson go on about her. He was simply a sight, but it just made him more adorable to her.
“ Gary,” she called. “ You like me, I know you do so why don’t you just admit it?”
“ No I don’t!” he lied. “ I don’t like you, I think you’re stupid and ugly!”
“ Yes you do,” she replied. “ Millie told me so, and now I want to hear it from you!”
“ She lied to you!”
“ You told her!”
“ I did not,” he shouted. “ I didn’t tell her anything. She lied to you Emily.”
“ She doesn’t lie Gary,” said Emily. “ Her father won’t let her because he’s a minister!”
“ I said she lied,” he tried. “ Not her father.”
“ Say it Gary,” she continued. “ You like me.”
Lil Puddin did not reply.
“ Cat got your tongue?”
Emily Rodriguez walked away and Lil Puddin just stood there. He was watching the sun beaming off her red hair. He felt a twist in his stomach, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. He never would have realized in a million years that love could make him feel that way. He wanted to call her, but he didn’t. There was something holding his words in, and he knew it wasn’t nerves. Something else was happening to him.
Emily Rodriguez stopped and turned to face Lil Puddin. “ Are you going to tell me or not?”
Lil Puddin felt his head slowly move up and down, but he simply had no control over it. It was a weird sensation that controlled his motor skills. It was an odd sensation that he never felt before. He couldn’t stop the jerky motion as he watched the young girl’s smile vanish. She liked him too, and he just suddenly realized it. She just didn’t want to admit it unless he admitted it first.
“ Gary!” she shouted.
“ I like you Emily,” he whispered, but realized the words didn’t form. It just came to his mind. “ Do you understand me?”
Emily Rodriguez turned away from Lil Puddin and walked toward a group of girls who had just stopped playing jump rope. She whispered something into an ear of another girl and that started a chain reaction. The next thing he knew was that all the girls looked toward him and giggled.
What are they laughing at? Are they screaming or laughing? Are they chanting?
You like Emily Rodriguez! You like Emily Rodriguez!
He walked backwards toward the chain linked fence, and in his head was that continuous chant. It was simply getting louder and louder.
You like Emily Rodriguez! You like Emily Rodriguez!
“ Gary Manda!” shouted Mrs. Johnson. “ Gary!”
Emily Rodriguez ran back toward Lil Puddin and she was trying to say something to him. It wasn’t a question, she had tears in her eyes. He stood and watched her, but he didn’t react. He just kept hearing the chant.
“ Oh my God!” she screamed.
“ Emily!” Mrs. Johnson screamed. “ Get back here!”
Lil Puddin realized that the children on the playground were acting differently. They were scurrying away like cockroaches at night when the light flicks on. He wished he knew what was happening. He wished he could understand why everyone was acting so strangely.
Emily?
The girl he liked fell to her knees screaming. It confused him all the more. He then saw Mrs. Johnson shouting out to her with tears in her eyes. He knew something was happening, but he could not tell what it was. The commotion was simply not registering in his head.
“ Gary!” shouted Mrs. Johnson.
Suddenly, he saw a bright light pass before him. It was almost blinding as he tried to adjust his eyes to it. His head was trying to release the sudden build up of pressure. It felt as if it wanted to explode.
Grandma, help.
“ Oh my God, Gary!” shouted Miss Carter.
The chanting was finally gone from his head. He was no longer feeling the pressure either. It was such a relief for him, but he realized that he was no longer standing. He felt the school playground on his face. He also felt a warm puddle touching his skin. The puddle had a salty, slightly stale smell to it as it invaded his nose.
Emily, go get my grandma.
No one heard him.
Daddy, help me.
Lil Puddin couldn’t feel himself anymore. He felt separated from his body. He felt different in every sense of the word. Finally, he felt no pain. There was no pain at all.
“ Miss Carter dial 911!” shouted Mrs. Johnson. “ Gary has been shot!”
Miss Erickson, the school principal ran out of her office and onto the play area. She quickly dashed over to Lil Puddin’s lifeless body. She tried to pick him up, but she couldn’t. His limp body weighed more than she anticipated. She decided to sit next to him and rest his bloodied head on her lap. She was devastated.
“ God, why?” she screamed.
“ Get the children into the building!” shouted a security guard. “ Move it!”
“ How many kids got hurt?” shouted another.
“ We can’t tell,” replied the first security guard. “ I think only one, and the school principle is with him.”
“ Damn!” Replied the second. “ Are the police coming?”
“ They’re on their way!” replied the first. “ The medic should be here too!”
Peace for Lil Puddin, and commotion for the City of Bridgeport.
7
I went to get a bite to eat at a Greek diner on Fairfield Avenue. When I got back to my office, Janet was sitting in my chair with her feet up on my desk reading a college course guide.
“ Did I interrupt you in any way?” I asked.
“ No,” she replied while keeping her head buried in the course guide. “ Do you like math?”
“ I don’t think so,” I replied with a brown bag of food in my left hand and a fountain diet Coke in my right.
“ I need to take a math course, but I don’t do well with math,” she explained. “ I want to skip it all together, but I need at least one for my major.”
“ Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,” I replied sarcastically.
“ You’re so mean Nick.”
I smiled.
“ I thought you would offer to help me with the math I choose,” she said. “ You being the great Nick PT Barnum.”
“ Just drop out of college,” I offered. “ And get out of my chair.”
Janet looked at me for a moment. She slapped the course schedule down on my desk, and gave me the middle finger.
“ Very lady like,” I said.
“ Bite me,” she replied as she got up and sat across from me in one of my client’s chairs. I sat down and placed the food on my desk. I then took a long sip of my diet soda and purposely enjoyed it.
“ I hope you choke on it,” she added.
“ I can’t choke,” I said. “ I’m the great Nick PT Barnum, remember?”
She gave me the finger again.
“ That hurt,” I said.
“ Good,” she snapped. “ I meant it too.”
Janet worked for me about two years now. She was a student at Sacred Heart University, with the desire to continue her education in New York. She had short dark hair, and a smooth fair complection. She was extremely pretty, and she sometimes looked like she just fell off one of those Abercrombie and Finch Magazine ads. Her only fault in my eyes were her piercing. She had one small stud on her nose, and a larger one on her tongue. Every time I talked about it, she’d call me an old fart. Janet was probably right, maybe I was an old fart.
She was a smart dresser, but today she had on an Old Navy tee-shirt and blue jeans. I guess she just wanted to dress down.
“ Do you want some of my lunch?” I asked.
“ No thanks, Nick,” she replied.
“ Hey,” I shot. “ Did you know that I finally got a date with a woman that’s a looker? I mean a real looker.”
“ Are you trying to say Hooker?”
“ No.”
“ Because old man,” she continued. “ We don’t use the word looker nowadays.”
“ Kiss my ass,” I shot back.
She laughed.
“ I’m serious though,” I said as I took my food out of the brown paper bag. “ She works at Rainbows over on the Eastside.”
“ Zoraida?”
“ You know her?”
“ Nick,” she replied. “ That girl is way too good looking for you. She’s out of your league.”
“ Damn, that really hurt.”
“ But she is!”
“ Be nice Janet,” I said. “ I bite.”
“ Nick, I’m being honest,” she replied. “ But, are you sure we’re talking about the same girl?”
“ Yes we are,” I said. “ And don’t be too damn honest. You hurt my feelings.”
She smiled wickedly.
“ Besides,” I said. “ I’m not that bad looking.”
“ Well,” she started. “ You’re about six feet tall. That’s a plus. You’re a little gray around the temples. That can be a plus, but I doubt it. You’re slightly over weight, not a plus. But you do have strong facial features.”
“ Scorecard?”
She laughed.
“ I don’t care about your scorecard,” I said. “ We have a date tonight, and I think this one might just be the one for the great Nick Barnum.”
“ Please.”
“ I’m serious.”
She laughed harder.
“ You sure know how to kick a man down,” I said.
She threw the course guide at me and walked out of my office.
“ That’s right,” I shouted at her. “ Get out of this kitchen, because it’s hot in here!”
“ Must be all that weight around the mid-section, big boy!” she shouted back.
“ Jump out a window!”
“ Hey, big boy,” she said as she poked her head back in. “ Vic Cruz is here to see you.”
“ Send him in,” I replied.
“ Maybe he’s here to ask you out on a date too,” she joked. “ Because it’s hot in there!”
I laughed.
She winked.
“ Now, why don’t you mis-file something. I believe that’s what you do best,” I said as I threw the course guide back at her.
She laughed and ducked at the same time.
I was just about to shovel some food into my mouth when Cruz poked his head in. “ Nick, what’s up?”
“ Come in,” I said offering him a chair. “ Just trying to finish off my lunch.”
He came in quickly and shut the door behind him.
“ Bad news Nick,” he said.
I looked confused.
“ Did you hear what happened to Mable Manda’s grandson at the school yard?” He asked as he sat in a client’s chair across from me.
“ What happened?”
“ Some punk, drug dealer shot and killed him.”
“ What?” I stood up quickly almost knocking my food to the floor. “ Shot and killed Mable’s grandson?”
Cruz nodded.
“ What the hell happened?”
“ A tragedy,” he replied in somber.
“ Damn,” I said as I eased myself back down in my chair still not believing my own ears.
“ There’s more to this sickening story,” he said.
I shook my head slightly from side to side.
“ We found another body in the alley way near the playground. We identified the body as Carlos Sanchez. You know him Nick, he hung around on State Street and Clinton Avenue years back.”
I nodded.
“ Shot several times,” he said. “ Died instantly.”
“ Did you find the shooter?”
“ No,” Cruz replied.
“ What do you got?”
“ I think he was trying to buy drugs with another guy,” Cruz explained. “ Something probably went wrong, and the shooting started. Carlos had no gun, so I believe he was running for his life with a partner.”
“ His partner got away then?”
Cruz nodded.
“ So you guys don’t have any idea who the other guy was, nor who the gunman was?” I asked. “ No clues, or leads, or anything helpful?”
“ We got you,” he said.
“ Do you think Willie the Greek’s boys had anything to do with this?”
“ No,” he quickly replied. “ Willie the Greek is in jail doing thirty days. I don’t think the time he’s spending in jail is worth it for any of his boys to branch out on their own. It won’t be right.”
“ I guess you’re right,” I said. “ I was just thinking about his ex-right hand man Mousy. Remember him?”
He nodded.
“ He tried to move in on Willie’s turf and found himself dead.”
Cruz nodded again.
“ Damn, poor Mable Manda,” I said mostly to myself.
“ Well,” Cruz started. “ Captain Roque wants you to find either the gunman, or the man who got away. He doesn’t care how you go about it. He just wants it done.”
“ I understand,” I said.
“ O’Brien is trying to find Mable’s son,” he said. “ He’s working a lot, and I bet he doesn’t even know what’s going on. Damn, I feel sorry for him.”
“ Damn, me too Gary is a good guy,” I said.
“ Remember Nick,” said Cruz. “ This is something that the captain wants to clear up quick. He wants you to work extra hard on this case.”
“ Hey, I don’t blame him,” I said. “ Tell him I’m on it.”
Cruz nodded.
8
Mable Manda’s son was sitting on a stool in a diner on State Street Extension with a turkey sandwich in front of him. The diner was located directly across the street from McDonalds, but that didn’t hurt its business one bit. They relied on the truck drivers who used I95 to go to New York or Massachusetts.
“ Excuse me sir,” interrupted O’Brien as he walked into the diner and stood directly behind him. “ Are you Mr. Gary Manda?”
“ Yes,” he answered almost ignoring the plain clothed O’Brien. “ Something I can do for you?”
Gary Manda was about six feet tall, and had thin cropped hair close to the military style. He had light green eyes and thin brows. He was an extremely strong looking black man with chiseled features.
“ You can,” O’Brien replied as he flashed his badge in his face. “ It’s your son.”
“ Lil Puddin?”
O’Brien nodded.
“ What about him, man?” he asked as he turned quickly to face O’Brien. “ What did he do? You have to understand that we came here to be with my pops who was sick. He died not too long ago. My son didn’t take it too well.”
O’Brien looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds. He didn’t know how to tell him that his son was dead.
“ What man?” asked Gary Manda.
“ Your son was shot and killed at school,” O’Brien released.
“ Don’t toy with me man!” shouted Gary Manda.
“ I don’t joke around when it comes to this,” said O’Brien. “ This shit is true, and I hated to be the one to tell you.”
“ At school?” he asked softly.
“ On the playground,” O’Brien replied.
“ This can’t be real man,” he said. “ Maybe I’m just tired, and this is all a nightmare. I don’t believe this.”
“ I’m sorry Gary,” said O’Brien. “ I too wished it was a nightmare. But the fact is what it is. Your mother is at the morgue with him, and I suggest you be with her.”
“ How did it happen?” he asked as his eyes instantly filled with tears. “ I gotta know.”
“ I know you do,” said O’Brien.
The waitress shot away at high speed when she saw Gary Manda slam the turkey sandwich down on his plate. He then picked it up and threw it at the mirror facing him, knocking over several drinking glasses.
“ It was a botched up drug deal,” said O’Brien. “ A goddamn drug deal gone wrong.”
“ Lil Puddin died because of drugs?”
O’Brien nodded.
“ My Lil Puddin, my baby was killed because drug dealers couldn’t get their shit together?”
O’Brien nodded again.
“ Hey man, he was suppose to be in school,” shouted Gary Manda. “ He was suppose to be protected by the school system! Why is my son dead? Why is he dead when the school system should have protected him. He was killed by drug dealers, not other students, why did this happen?”
“ I’m so sorry Gary,” O’Brien genuinely replied. “ But you better go to your mother. She needs you now.”
“ That was her Lil Puddin,” he sobbed.
O’Brien nodded.
“ My baby,” he continued.
“ Can I give you a lift,” O’Brien offered. “ Take you to Mable?”
Gary Manda nodded.
The waitress sped by again scooping up the coffee cups on the counter. She was very fast, and thorough. She was a lanky young woman, and probably still in high school. She hardly looked sixteen, but she had to be in order to work at that diner.
She grabbed Gary Manda’s check and tossed it into the trash can. She knew he wasn’t going to pay his bill, and she wasn’t going to demand payment either. O’Brien saw what she did so he tossed ten dollars on the counter and told the young waitress to keep the change.
9
I was in my best gray suit sitting at a small table for two at Wellingtons in Shelton. I was nervous, but Janet tried to calm my nerves by running a quick crash course on dating in the modern age. It felt odd taking instructions from a kid half my age, but I guess she knew dating better than I did. She also had an advantage I didn’t have. She knew Zoraida.
“ Mr. Barnum?” the well dressed waiter asked.
“ Yes,” I replied.
“ A lady is looking for you,” he smiled.
“ Please send her to me,” I nervously replied. “ Oh, and by the way, how do I look?”
He just smiled.
“ Hey Nick,” she said softly as she immediately appeared. “ Remember me?”
I stood up quickly and gestured quite elegantly, Janet would have been proud, at the empty seat across from me. She sat and crossed her legs, holding her leather Gucci clutch bag in her left hand.
Looks were exchanged around the restaurant.
I smiled.
She smiled.
I waited.
She waited.
I felt uncomfortable.
She looked uncomfortable.
I laughed.
She laughed.
Ice broken.
“ So, we’re finally together,” I said.
“ So you think?” she joked.
“ Baby, I know.”
She laughed.
Crushed Ice now.
She sat back, body still straight, her knees still together. Both her feet were firmly on the floor, and she pulled on her skirt so she’d sit comfortably.
“ Just sit still, you’re making me nervous,” I said.
“ Aren’t we a little bossy,” she added.
“ You’re just making me so damn nervous, and I’m trying to do this date right,” I explained.
She laughed again.
I loved her laugh.
“ Are you ready to order cocktails?” asked the waiter.
“ White wine,” she said softly as her lips moved in slow motion.
“ Same,” I said. Knowing damn well I don’t like white wine. I was actually craving a beer and a shot of anything over 80 proof.
“ So you like white wine?” she asked.
“ Love it,” I lied. I kind of felt my nose growing, but if I wanted to impress the girl I had to like what she liked. It was something Janet told me to do. I hated Janet for making me do the things she thought was right.
Zoraida looked very nice. She had on a light color shirt and a white top. Her hair was long, but she trapped it with a clip of some sort that made just the front part stick to the back. She just looked very nice.
“ Be yourself, Nick,” she said.
“ I am,” I replied.
She looked at me with her big beautiful round eyes as she titled her head sideways a bit.
“ I’ll try,” I added.
She smiled.