Hoodlum: A Novel

CHAPTER 1

FAT MIKE TESSIO HAULED his three hundred and some-odd pounds up the tiny steps in front Bellini's House of Pasta. He ran a chubby hand across his gelled hair as he looked in the door's reflection. After fixing the lapel of his polyester suit, he proceeded into the restaurant. His second set of eyes, Nicky Tulips, brought up the rear as usual. Mike and Nicky greeted some of the staff and proceeded to the back booth where Ginerro Gee-Gee Giovanni, un-derboss of the Cissarro family, sat.

Ginerro sat at his usual booth sipping a glass of fruit juice. At his side was his bodyguard, Louie Bonanno. Ginerro looked at the fat man coming in his direction and kept on sipping. Even when Fat Mike was standing directly in front of him, he still didn’t budge. After an uncomfortable pause Ginerro cast his cold gray eyes on Mike.

Mike could feel the chill run down his spine as the bastard just stared. Gee-Gee was an old-school mobster. He was first introduced into the secret society back in 1951. For more than three decades, Ginerro killed and ordered dozens of men murdered, all at the behest of the Cissarros. Over the last twenty some-odd years, he had served as underboss to three different Mafia chiefs, always seeming to miss his turn at the big time. A lot of the soldiers joked that it was the reason the old man was still around. He refused to die until he had his shot at the throne.

How ya doing? Ginerro asked, looking up at Fat Mike.

I’m good, Mr. G, Mike said sheepishly, kissing him on both cheeks.

Got something for me? the old man asked.

Yeah, here you go. Mike carefully handed a brown paper bag to Louie. It's all there, boss.

Good. So, how's business?

Right as rain, Mr. G. Couldn’t be better.

You still having them nigger troubles uptown?

Nah, we took care of that. All of them guys down there is scared of Poppa and they know Poppa is wit’ us. They’ve been paying up.

What about Poppa?

Well … Mike stuttered. He's pretty much got his own thing going. He don’t give us no trouble. Mike chose his words carefully so as not to tip Ginerro off; Gee-Gee had no idea that Tommy and Poppa had been making side deals for the heroin that the Wongs were hitting him with. In the Mob the rule against drugs was very simple: Deal and you die.

Fuck him, Ginerro said, slamming a bony fist into the table. He's gotta give up a taste like everyone else. Poppa's got a lot of friends, but he ain’t a part of our thing. Don’t you come around here telling me what some spade uptown has got going on. If he's got action on any of our turf, then he pays too. Who the fuck is Poppa? You scared of this guy, Mike?

Nah, Mr. G. Fuck I got to fear from some nigger living in a big house? Let's just say that he pays homage to our thing.

Damn well better be. Poppa keeps the niggers in line like the good little shepherd. That's all he’ll ever be to us. The day you start acting like some fucking boot is bigger than our thing, is the day you ain’t fit to be a part of it.

Yeah, Mr. G. You don’t have to worry about me fearing anybody except you.

You better say it until you learn it, Michael. Now, you and this sneaky motherfucker—he motioned toward Nicky—get outta here.

Mike and Nicky left without saying a word. He was an underboss and Mike was just a crew chief, it was really a no-win situation. At least for the moment. That old fuck was going to step down whether he wanted to or not, Mike would see to that.

Shai's people lived on a modest estate right outside of Elizabeth, New Jersey. It was a Colonial house that sat alone in the middle of an open field. It was made of a brick-like texture that was painted a gray hue. From a distance it looked like a castle that had lost its place in time. The yellow brick drive snaked the distance of a city block from the house to the black iron gate in the front. The lawn was decorated with trees and stone gargoyles that watched the main road for intruders. Shai and Tommy had nicknamed them the watchers.

At the rear of the house was a replica of an enchanted forest with all kinds of trees and vegetation. What made the whole thing really look crazy was the artificial pond that replaced their swimming pool. There was a green light built into the bottom of the pool that gave off a mystic effect.

Here pulled the truck through the gates and up the circular driveway. Two men walking pit bulls on chains nodded at the big man as he passed them. The truck pulled to a stop in front of the house and unloaded its passengers. Shai looked up at the house as if it were his first time seeing it. Shai hadn’t always lived out this way; he actually grew up in the projects. His father moved them all out here during his junior year of high school.

Shai and Tommy had gotten halfway up the front steps when the oak double doors swung open. A local Mob figure named Jimmy Malone came tripping down the steps, followed by one of his button men. The gray suit jacket he wore didn’t do much to hide the bulge under his arm. He flashed a broad grin as the trio approached.

Lil‘ T, he said, extending his hand. What say, huh?

The name is Tommy, Poppa's eldest said, wearing a false smile. And I say, don’t forget it.

I can dig it, Jimmy said, brushing off Tommy's comment. Heir to the throne and shit.

"And you know this, paisan."

This kid, Jimmy said, tapping his bodyguard, such a fucking ballbreaker. We’ll probably starve once this guy is running the show.

The faithful shall prosper, Tommy said, brushing past Jimmy and walking toward the house.

I still love ya, T, Jimmy said over his shoulder. Later, fellas. He nodded to Here and Shai. Here just stared, while Shai nodded back.

Who was that? Shai whispered to Here.

Trash, the big man grumbled. Shai left the situation alone and followed Here into the house.

The trio crossed the foyer and beheld the marvel that was Poppa's domain. The interior was almost as spectacular as the exterior. The front doors led them to a circular room that served as the foyer. The room was lined with a plush red carpet that sunk in when you stepped onto it.

This living room of the house was where Poppa would sometimes entertain visitors. It was a wide-open space, decorated in antique furniture with a large crystal chandelier hanging from the gold-colored ceiling. In the center of the receiving area was a long carpeted staircase leading to the upper rooms. On either side of the stairs were doors leading to other sections of the house.

Poppa stepped out from one of these doors, wearing a blue smoking jacket and puffing on a thick cigar. Their father was a hugeman. Not as big as Here, but he wasn’t a lightweight. He stood about six three and sported a trimmed beard. His auburn dreadlocks swung freely as he came down the steps to greet his boys.

Shai looked at his father's face, but didn’t know what to make of it. Poppa was skilled at making his face unreadable. Shai didn’t know if he was going to hug him, or snuff him. He knew Poppa was pissed, but didn’t know to what degree. What's up, Pop? Shai asked, grinning. You look good.

Thanks. I been trying to exercise here and there, when I can. Getting old, you know?

Nah, what are you, about twenty-one?

Flattery will get you everywhere, boy. So what's up?

Nothing, Shai said, shrugging as if he didn’t know what Poppa was talking about.

Here, Poppa said. Why don’t you take the bags upstairs? I wanna kick it with these two for a minute.

Sure thing, Poppa. Here scooped all of Shai's bags in one arm and lumbered up the stairs.

Shai, Poppa said, stepping a bit closer. Do I strike you as a fool?

No, sir, Shai whispered.

Then don’t play me like one. You know what I’m talking about. What the hell is your problem?

Poppa, I’m sorry—

I don’t wanna hear that, Shai. Poppa cut him off. You were fortunate enough to get a free ride to school and you turn around and fuck it up? I didn’t raise no idiot, did I?

No, sir.

I didn’t think so. I’m disappointed in you, Shai. Very disappointed.

I know, Shai said, lowering his head. What I did was stupid, I know this. At the time, I wasn’t thinking about it. I needed some extra bread and instead of asking for it, I tried to hustle it up on my own. Pop, all I wanted to do was show you that I could earn a buck. I didn’t think it would get this bad."

That's just it. Poppa shook his head. You don’t think, son. I’ve busted my ass for over thirty years in these streets so my kids could get a proper upbringing. This stunt you pulled was stupid.

Shai understood where Poppa was coming from, but he sure as hell didn’t agree with his philosophy. In Shai's mind, money made the world go round, and he craved it in his life. Poppa always made sure he had what he needed, but what about what he wanted? Shai was the type of dude that liked having thangs. He had expensive taste and loved to floss.

Poppa gave him enough to live very comfortably, but Tommy's little brother liked to splurge. Shai needed to have the finest of everything: women, cars, gear. What he didn’t get from Poppa or Tommy he hustled up on his own. Gambling wasn’t the only racket Shai had going on down South. He sold weed to the blacks, Ecstasy pills to the whites, and liquor to the browns. The shit was all profit to