Chapter Nine

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The big RALPH’S sign out front brought back memories and so did Little Jackie grabbing Bobby and giving him a hug after they walked through the front door into the nice, upper-middle-class pizza joint.

“So tell me, kid. How the fuck are ya?”

            “Great, Jackie,” Bobby said as he looked around at all the signed pictures of athletes and celebrities on the walls. “And I gotta say, again—thanks for all your help when I was inside, when we were on trial, for everything.”

            “What was I gonna do, let you boys rot? You delivered pies for me. You hit home runs for me. You’re in the fucking picture over there for Christ’s sake.” And then Jackie paused. “I knew your fathers.”

            “Hey, man,” Bobby said as he looked at him and Victor’s old little league baseball picture, the one of the old Ralph’s Pizza team. “I wish I’d known mine too.”

            “Well, what are you gonna do, huh? You’re here now.” And then Jackie said, with a smile: “This, is Family.”

            “I know. I feel fucking great. Incarceration sucks.”

            “You’re telling me? C’mon, let’s eat,” Jackie said as he called out to the elderly little Sicilian behind the counter: “Pepe, have the kid bring Bobby a menu.” And then he asked Bobby, “You like chicken parm? You want some veal? What do you like?”

            “Victor tells me the pork chops and vinegar peppers here are to get whacked for.”

            Jackie found it funny. “Got that right, Mr. Drakis.”

It wasn’t just the three of them, though. They had gone past the booths in the front to the tables in the back dining room where they were joined by Bert Ragsdale, another goon on Jackie’s crew. Who was 45, German-Irish, and an asshole. But, since he was also tough, tall and husky, he was a valued member of Jackie’s mob squad. Plus, he had a shiny bald head and did 10 months with Bobby in Elmira.

            So, as they feasted, Bobby said, “That place was wild, man.”

            Bert sighed. “I remember when you got that beauty mark.” The scar through Bobby’s eyebrow.

            “Yeah, how did you get that?” Jackie asked.

            “I was sitting in the barber chair, the prison salon. Then out of nowhere some wack-job comes after me with a razor.”

            “Jesus,” Jackie said.

            “Fucking gladiator school,” Bert threw in.

            “I got sent to the hole for that. I ended up spending 14 months there.”

            “For getting cut?” Jackie asked. He instinctively had to wonder if Bobby checked himself into protective custody.

            “Nah. ‘Cause I stomped his head in after.”

            Bert laughed. “I walk in and he’s kicking him in his face.”

            “I lost it,” Bobby said. “Doing 25 to life for some bullshit? I lost it. I blacked the fuck out on this asshole.”

            Jackie could see that just thinking about it was causing Bobby stress. So he told him, “Well, you’re back now, where you belong. That’s all that matters.”

            “Still,” Bobby said. “What a fucking waste. I don’t care if I gotta do time but at least let it be for a good reason.”

            “It couldn’t have been easy for you,” Bert chimed in. “Comin’ from a college and all.”

            “It wasn’t. I was tryin’ to do the right thing, go to school. I had my baseball scholarship. Then they pinch me while I’m in class with my girlfriend. She freaked out, started screamin’ and cryin’.”

            “You still speak to her?” Jackie wondered.

            “We lost contact,” Bobby said.

            “Well listen,” Jackie told him. “You were a man. You stood up. You could have been like your friend there, that fuck, Dano, Dino or whatever. But you weren’t. You were a fucking man and no one can ever take that away from you, you understand?”

            “Especially nowadays,” Victor said.

            Bert offered his opinion too: “Fucking stool pigeons, everywhere.”

            But Jackie got back to the point. “You were a man. Be proud of yourself. Buck the fuck up.”

            “Nah I know, I’m fine,” Bobby said. “But still, if they didn’t put me in the solitary I would a killed somebody in there.”

            “Or got killed yourself,” Bert said. “Max ain’t no place for scholarships.”

            “What the hell is wrong with you?” Jackie asked. Bert had a habit of saying asshole things. So he turned back to Bobby. “Listen. I want you to come by the club. We got a nightclub now, a new one.”

            “Where is it?” Bobby asked.

            “Oceanside,” Jackie said. “They’re doin’ renovations right now, get it ready for summer. But when it opens again, couple a weeks? You come by. You gonna like this place. Tell him, Victor.”

            “What can I say? We were there the other day, it’s beautiful.”

            “You bring your friends,” Jackie said. “You boys will be V.I.P. And for the two a you, bottles on me.”

            “Or on the previous owner,” Bert cracked.

            Jackie majored in extortion.

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