My mobster-inspired short story is out today!

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The Campione Brothers, Vincenzo and Cesare, work at their local mechanics shop but aspire to better their country. Their chance arises when Great War veterans revolt against a corrupt election, rallying to support their community. Through their honorable actions, they earn the title of the Neighborhood Knights. Soon, they uncover a conspiracy against the police and elected officials, leading to a situation where mobsters are defending men of the law.

The Good Neighbor Boys Quartiere Cavalieri: Chapter 4 – Requiem of a Suffering Father

Chapter 4 – Requiem of a Suffering Father

With the true mastermind's identity revealed, both the cops and the family spread out across the city to arrest them and their allies. Cesare and I join the assault on the Puramente estate, which is across the river and heavily guarded and surrounded by his family members and hired help, and further surrounded by cops and state troopers, with neighbors watching from afar to see what happens.

Using a microphone, Umberto Destro, a friend of the family, veteran, and chief of police in this city, says, “Come out with your hands up and surrender. We know you’re all behind the recent murders and attempted murders of police and city officials. There is no escape, so you have the choice of either going to jail or going to the divine judgment seat. Take your pick.”

A shot rings out and ricochets off Umberto’s microphone, prompting the authorities to charge and fight the criminals. Meanwhile, Cesare, members of the family, and I scout the area and make sure that Amoroso doesn’t take any hidden passages to escape. Sure enough, we find him coming out of a house of people he knows, who draw their weapons on us.

“It’s over, don Amoroso Puramente,” Cesare says.

“Look at what the feds are doing to us!” Amoroso says. “They’ve turned us against one another!”

“You were the one who got your hired thugs and family members to shoot us, not the other way around,” I say.

“That’s because you allied yourselves with them and got in the way of me getting justice for my children! Those cocksuckers in the government got them all killed! That’s why we need to bring back the real mob from ages past! Let me escape, and I’ll forget all your crimes against my family. Those people you call thugs are merely members of the new family I’ve created. I have five new powerful families that exemplify the old mob and know how to be true men of honor.”

“There’s no honor in the kind of crimes you want to commit. You’re a grieving father who has his sights set on the wrong people. You’ve gotten good people hurt or killed.”

“Are you talking about those Ministro brothers? Those motherfuckers are traitors to the family by associating the family with the law. We’re slaves to them because of them and Russell, and I refuse to watch everything I do because of people who got my children killed!”

“You should watch your mouth,” Russell says as he and Angelo step out from the crowd with their pistols drawn. “A man of honor doesn’t use such harsh and profane language so easily.”

“Right. You erased that so we wouldn’t speak like the old mob. No taking the Lord’s name in vain, no motherfucker this, no cocksucker that, and no liberal use of the word fuck, but this is a situation where I should use that, and if the next words out of your mouth aren’t words of understanding and joining me, then I have no choice but to shoot you, you old senile fuck.”

Russell shoots Amoroso in the face. The suddenness and shock of it all freeze everyone in place. Cesare and I quickly fire at Amoroso’s allies and members of his family before they can recover, and then we’re aided by our family members who follow what we do.

“The only words of understanding I’ll give you are that I pray and hope that God has mercy on you and yours, old friend,” Russell says as he crosses himself.

We cross ourselves as well and follow Russell and Angelo away from the house. The cops are called to the house, and we let them handle the rest of the cleanup. Back in the basement of the parish church, Cesare and I are celebrated in our efforts and given more responsibilities in the family, such as patrolling a wider area, being in charge of newer members, and giving them orders. Later on the news, the authorities announce their victory over the criminals who were going after them and that the city is safe once again, thanks to the new administration and its supporters.

“At least they give us a little credit,” Cesare jokes as he smokes while watching the TV.

“Remember, we shouldn’t get away. We aren’t supposed to have the spotlight on us or exist in the public mindset,” I say.

“You’re right. I am just glad that justice was served by people like us, of all people.”

“Why wouldn’t it be us? We’re men of the community, helpers of neighbors. We’re Quartiere Cavalieri, the Neighborhood Knights.”

“Hell yeah, brother, and this is just the start of the legacy we’ll leave on the world.”

 

The End

The Good Neighbor Boys Quartiere Cavalieri: Chapter 3 – Criminals on the Side of Cops

Chapter 3 – Criminals on the Side of Cops

To start our investigation, Cesare and I are actually being helped by some of the Great War veterans who are now cops. They don’t mind helping the family since they helped change the city for the better and keep the other lesser criminals in check. Plus, they don’t think any of the family’s illegal dealings are sinful and view us as honest men who do dishonest work that needs to be done. They’re just as jaded by the corruption in the government and know that something outside of it is needed to ensure true fairness and peace. All of our allies in Casa Della Luce in the government think this way, and won’t bother or arrest us since they agree with what we’re doing.

Still, we have to be careful not to make our actions known, especially our legally dubious ones, so they aren’t forced to come after us, and after we catch the cop and official killers, then they lay off us. With the information that our friends in the police have given us, Cesare and I follow the most likely lead that those who are allies with the previous corrupt administration are behind this. They’ve heard rumors that they put a hit out on those who put them in prison before they entered it, and the bounty is pretty high. It’s also rumored that those who help them will gain political power, especially if they help them expedite their prison sentence. For this reason, Cesare and I go door to door for the known allies of those who benefited from the previous administration to see if they know anything.

“Why would I help you out?” one of the suspects asks.

“If you know anything and tell us, then you won’t be bothered if you had a hand in what’s happening,” I say.

“Really? A boy like you can guarantee it?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Hmm. That’s impressive if true. They’ll give anyone power these days, and they say they’re different than us.”

“We are because we tell the truth, and if you do, then you’ll have nothing to fear from us.”

“But if you don’t, you'd better be afraid,” Cesare says as he draws his pistol and points it at the suspect.

“Ha! You think I’m afraid of a couple of boys with overly expensive suits with guns-”

Cesare shoots the suspect in the arm. I can’t really reprimand him now, especially since I know the kind of person I’m talking to.

“The next one goes in your head if you don’t actually say something smart. Tell us what you know,” Cesare demands.

“Alright, alright! I’ll tell you what I know.”

Much of our questioning goes much the same way with the other suspects. I play good cop, while Cesare plays bad, using either his pistol or brass knuckles to coerce the suspects into talking and telling the truth. In one instance, the suspect tries running away, so we’re forced to beat them down so they stop running. As this is happening and after, the neighbors around us act as if nothing is happening, a benefit of the things we’ve done for them. A few of the neighbors even stop another fleeing suspect and help us beat them down and drag them down an alley for private questioning.

What we learn brings us from one suspect to another, not really learning anything, and making us feel like all these people are pointing fingers at their previous allies and friends to get out of trouble. The most we learn is that the conspirators are going to act again and are gathering weapons and hiring thugs to do so, but are going to do more damage next time. They’re also planning on finishing off Frank and John Ministro, who thankfully survived the assassination attempt on their lives. Cesare and I redouble our efforts, continue our investigation, and try to get more information out of the suspects. They must be catching on to what is happening because the group of suspects we go after next gives us the most trouble out of all of them.

 Before we can even knock on the door, gunfire erupts, nearly hitting us. Cesare and I back off and exchange gunfire through the door that becomes swish cheese by the end. I call in reinforcements from the cops with the radio they gave us, and we proceed into the building, seeing that we’ve killed a few of the thugs, and wanting to ensure there aren’t any more. Going into the building, more come out of hidden compartments in the walls and floors to fire at us with not only pistols, but shotguns and rifles as well.  

Taking cover in rooms they aren’t in, I say to Cesare, “I think we should back off until we get backup!”

“Nah, we got this! There can’t be many of them left,” Cesare says as he runs from cover, firing his pistol and taking out a few of the thugs.

Not wanting Cesare’s headstrongness to be the death of him, I follow him, gunning down a couple more. Cesare picks up a shotgun on the floor, takes the shells off the dead thug, and loads them into his gun.

His eyes light up at the sight of the gun, and he says, “Now it’s an even fight!”

I pick up a rifle with clips off a nearby thug, check its ammo, and support Cesare from behind as he charges down a hallway, popping one thug after another as I shoot the other thugs coming at us from the other end of a weirdly long hallway. With the ground floor seemingly clear, we go back to the entrance where the stairs to the upstairs and downstairs are. The cops arrive and tell us that they’ll take it from here, only for more thugs to come out of the floors and hidden doors and shoot at them. We return fire and cover the now-injured cops as they’re taken outside by their friends.

“We’re supposed to be the ones helping you! We’ll help you clear the building,” Cesare says.

More cops come in, now armed with shotguns and rifles from their cop car. One group goes upstairs, while the other goes downstairs. Cesare and I split up to make sure both of them are covered, and thankfully, there are only a few more armed thugs left; however, it seems like the rest escaped. From upstairs, there’s a hidden door that leads into the neighboring building, and in the basement, there’s a dark tunnel that leads to who knows where. All the thugs we shot are either dead or have killed themselves rather than be taken in alive. In the house’s many secret rooms are stockpiles of rifles, grenades, dynamite, pistols, shotguns, and ammo for each type of gun.

“Oh, look at this beauty,” Cesare says as he picks up a revolver. “Whew! It’s a six-shot revolver that uses shotgun shells.”

I take a look through the guns and find a golden forty-five pistol. Picking it up and checking its ammo, I see it has twelve rifle bullets in it.

“You should take that. It’s a sharp gun for a sharp man,” Cesare says.

Asking the cops about it, one says that, “Most of the guns here appear to have been illegally and custom-made. As far as we know, they don’t exist, so you can take them. Bring some to your family, too.”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Yeah. It’ll be less paperwork for us to do, anyway.”

Cesare and I thank the cops, put the guns into an unmarked van that’s parked in the back of this house, bring them to one of the family’s safehouses, and call the heads of the family to let them know about what we found and brought to them. Soon after, I receive a call from the don of the Puramente family, Amoroso Puramente, that Angelo has told him that he knew of another safehouse for us to go to and raid for its weapons. We’re supposed to meet two of his men at night so that we can be there when it’s less likely to have guards in it, or to at least catch them by surprise while they’re tired.

“Why did Angelo tell you to tell us rather than him telling us himself like he usually does?” I ask.

“He’s busy, alright? He’s onto a lead that may end this whole mess, and doesn’t want to be bothered. My boys will see you tonight,” Amoroso says before hanging up.

I explain to Cesare what I was told and how off this feels.

“Yeah. Something is awfully fishy about this. Russell did tell us to be wary of our own family members,” Cesare says.

“Yeah. Let’s bring some backup alongside us for protection,” I say, to which Cesare agrees.

I call the veterans who are cops about what is happening, and they agree to back us up. Nighttime arrives, and we show up with them at the docks where we were told to be.

“What are those cops doing with you?” one of the family members asks.

“They’re here as backup. I thought we needed it,” I say.

“Also, we’re veterans and fellow citizens first,” one of the veterans adds.

“Right. Right. I’m not arguing you shouldn’t be here. I just didn’t know you would be. Anyways, let’s head in there.”

While walking with the veterans and family members, the veterans are fired at and killed by shooters in the dark. As Cesare and I draw our new pistols, our own family members draw and point their pistols at us.

“We knew something was up. What’s the meaning of this?!” I ask as two more shooters with rifles surround us.

“Because you’re our friend, we’ll tell you. Amoroso Puramente is tired of the family working with the feds. They killed his son for his money and had them do terrible things during the Great War before they died for their leaders,” the family member explains.

“Why work with the allies of the previous corrupt administration then? Where’s the logic in that?” Cesare asks.

“Amoroso agreed with them that they can freely be at each other’s throats like in the days of the old mobsters if they got rid of their mutual enemies, and they agreed. The new mobsters like Russell, Angelo, Frank, and the rest of them are all pathetic. They don’t make as much money, aren’t as feared, and are always walking on eggshells to not get in trouble with those who run the country. We shouldn’t chain ourselves to people who will stab us in the back to suit their own interests. We should be the ones stabbing them in the back and taking advantage of the easily corruptible to do what we want, liable to no one but ourselves. That’s what it means to be a mobster.”

“Heh, what you’re talking about is being a thug, scum, the lowest of the low,” Cesare says with a grin. “You may be a mobster, but you’re no man of honor. None of you is. You’re all men of yourselves, amounting to nothing, serving only yourselves, and you’ll destroy yourselves if you reinstitute the old mob.”

“I only explained to you the situation because we worked together in the mechanic shop with Russell, not so that you can preach to us about what a real mobster is. We’re both criminals to the law. Nothing more.”

“We may be criminals, but we’re the good kind,” I say as I raise my thumb.

Two shots ring out and kill two members of the family. Seeing which ones they shot, Cesare and I shoot the other two, just as the shock of seeing their friends die wears off, the other two family members. The Ministro brothers step out of the darkness with rifles in their hands and tell us what we learned.

“Good work, boys. Your plan worked out exactly as you said, Vincenzo, and thanks to it, we know who the mastermind is behind these recent attacks on the authorities,” Frank says.

“You took a big gamble, young man,” John adds. “What made you think they’d spill what they knew?”

“It’s like you said. It was a gamble. I knew these people weren’t real mobsters, so they’d talk about what they knew, thinking it wouldn’t matter if they told us,” I say. “Even if they didn’t, and Cesare and I had to fight our way out of a close gunfight, we’d still know that members of the Puramente family were traitors and investigate the family from there.”

“It was still a reckless gamble, kind of like something I would do. I’m proud of you, brother,” Cesare says with an arm over my shoulder.

“You two remind us of us when we were your age,” John says.

“Maybe you’ll end up just the same way,” Frank adds. “Now, let’s confront Amoroso and get him and his allies to answer for his crimes.”

The Good Neighbor Boys Quartiere Cavalieri: Chapter 2 - More Vigilante than Criminal

Chapter 2 – More Vigilante than Criminal

One of the first things Cesare and I learn how to be true friends of the family. First, they tell us to dress better.

“You both look like your mother never taught you how to dress properly, and I know that she taught you well,” Russell says as he hits Cesare and me upside the head.

We both take better care of our outfits, make sure our hair is properly cut, and we don’t always smell like we just got out of the mechanic shop. It’s made me look at myself and others differently. I’ve noticed that, despite looking like a typical old, yet strong Mediterranean man, Russell always looks like he could change into a suit and appear ready for mass or a proper dinner, and Angelo looks like a man in his prime with slick grey and black hair and not a wrinkle or imperfection in his outfit or shoes, as if they were tailor made to stay in brand new condition.

“Men who care about others and themselves have to care about their bodies as well. It is one of the things God has entrusted to you that you have the easiest access to fix and clean up, second only to the care of your soul,” Russell says.

I do as the old man says and make sure that my black jacket, white shirt, black pants, and black boots are all in good condition. My black hat with a gold ribbon around it that I wear outside the mechanic shop is also well cared for, as is my black hair. I make sure that my face is well-shaven since I don’t want any facial hair. With my face cleaner than usual, my parents say it makes me shine, and my blue eyes stand out more. As for Cesare, everyone jokes that he looks like a different person now that he is cleaning himself up. His blond hair is straight and no longer a mess. His green eyes stand out more now that his face is completely clean, and his green hat, shoes, and clothes are all clean.

“If you want to be a friend of the family, then you need to prove yourselves. Yes, Cesare. I know you do a lot and have proved yourself so far, but never ask how far you need to go for a loved one. You always go beyond because love has no limits,” Russell says.

“We’ll give you a rough area of the neighborhood where you need to be, but it must be you who steps up and helps out where people need it. Remember, you are to ask for nothing in return for your work. You’re doing this only to help others,” Angelo adds.

“Don’t think that you can get out of work easily because of your new responsibilities. You only get out of work when you change your job.”

This is what Cesare and I do for the next couple of months. We go to work at the mechanics shop and walk the neighborhood in search of people to help. From helping people carry their groceries into their house, cleaning people’s front porch, to helping people with their cars, Cesare and I become known as the Good Neighbor Boys through our many works. We help the Knights at the church to gain new members and help the parish priests and nuns clean the church and gather funds for the poor. Additionally, we help the Knights make food for the poor of the community and deliver clothes and food to families in need.

Russell and Angelo are pleased with what we’ve done, and yet, it’s not enough to join the family yet, since we’ve already done much of this for our entire lives, so we continue to do more and look out for more opportunities we may be missing. We hear rumors of people wanting to go after cops and officials, saying that anyone involved in politics and the government is less than scum.

“The new cops and officials are the veterans who helped free us from our previous corrupt rulers and have the neighborhood’s best interests in mind,” I say to the people from whom we hear the rumors.

“I agree with you, but we’ve heard others say otherwise,” a neighbor says.

Our neighbors tell us where and who they heard these rumors from, and we track down these people just as they’re about to beat up some local cops while wearing masks and using bats, knives, crowbars, and brass knuckles.

“Hey! Stop!” Cesare says as he runs ahead and tackles the group head-on.

I run to protect my brother as he starts to get beaten up. Thankfully, the cops help us, and because the thugs aren’t hiding their intentions, they try to attack the cops as well, so it’s obvious we’re trying to protect those who are supposed to protect us. People from the neighborhood see what is happening and come to the aid of the cops and us, and the thugs are soon detained and taken away. The cops thank us for saving them, but at the same time, say it was stupid for us to just throw ourselves at them.

“What did you want us to do? Convince you beforehand? We were going to after we talked with those thugs, but we were too late,” Cesare says before I can say pretty much the same thing.

“There might be others who will go after you, officers. You better watch your back,” I add.

“We will, boys. Thanks again,” one of the cops says.

During the next day, we hear about a drive-by that takes out a few cops and the friends they were hanging out with. Not wanting to let the murderers get away with it, we ask everyone who saw what happened to give us the details about the car that drove by, who was in it, and where it went. Cesare and I get details on the car and the direction it drove off in, but no one got a good look at the perpetrators. Using the information we have, we go further into the city. It turns out that the car is common in this part of the city, so it’ll be hard to pin down.

I then suggest to Cesare, “It would be stupid for them to keep the car without changing its appearance or at least get rid of it so that no one traces it down to its owner.”

“Ack. You’re probably right,” Cesare says. “Still, we can’t just wait around for them to strike again.”

“You’re right, but it’s all we can do.”

Cesare and I wait and keep our ears to the ground for any more news of the cop and politician haters, and can only manage to hear rumors of something going on, but no names or faces to connect it to, so we tell Russell and Angelo about it.

“This is a bigger problem than what both of you can handle. We’ll take it from here,” Russell says.

“You did well, investigating and putting your life on the line for those cops the other day. I think they’re ready, Russell. What do you think?”

“Of course they’re ready. I raised them to be.”

Russell and Angelo lead us to the basement beneath our parish church. In the dark basement, we see many of the people we’ve worked with in the neighborhood and the mechanic shop, including four other people who sit in the shadows, whom Angelo joins, while Russell stands off to the side. Cesare and I are given photos of ourselves that we are told to write our faults on. We do as we’re told, our fingers are cut to spill blood on the photos, and we hold our photos as they’re lit on fire.

“These burning photos are the old you,” Angelo says as he steps forward. “As a family member, you are to act as men God made you to be as perfectly as possible for the people you love and protect. If you are to fail, or worse, go back on your vows, then you will burn like this photo of yourself. Despite the challenges ahead of you, will you take this vow?”

“We do,” Cesare and I say.

“May God have mercy on your souls. Welcome to the family. Welcome to the Casa Della Notte.”

As the last bit of our photos turns to ash, everyone in the basement claps and congratulates us. Going further into the basement, we have a little celebration. During the celebration, Angelo and our friends explain to us the nuances of being a made man.

“We speak in code. Unfortunately, we can’t write down all the code words and always tell you when they change, so you’ll have to pick up on queues or arrange for us to speak in private to catch you up on what you need to know,” Angelo explains. “For example, painters are hitmen, a mechanic is a gunsmith or bomb maker, a butcher is a man who organizes assassinations, a trucker transports our products or steals things, a baker is a money maker, and a banker is a money holder or cleaner.”

Angelo and our friends tell us more code words, and by the end of it, Cesare asks me, “Did you catch all that, Vincenzo? I’m going to need you to remember it all.”

“Yes, I got it,” I say.

“What’s the need for all this secrecy anyway? I thought we had people in power on our side?”

“Not all of them are on our side,” Russell says. “They’ll indeed tell us when our gathering places and homes are bugged, and have bugged the offices and stations of police, special agencies, mayor and governor offices, but we can’t always rely on their experts to delete or edit the audio so we can get away with everything, or always speak plainly. That’s why violence and murder are a last resort since they’re the hardest to cover up. As men of honor, men of the family, you are also never to involve yourselves with drugs, prostitution, or unregulated gambling. Don’t fight back against your parents, unless they tell you to do something sinful. Always have legitimate jobs and give a cut of it to the family. If you think you’re going to regret what you do, ask the family first before acting, or if you know it to be a sin, then don’t do it.”

I take in as much information and tips on family life as possible, while Cesare simply eats and parties. I’m sure he was trying to listen, but he has difficulties doing so and knows that I’ll keep him up to date on what he needs to know. The next day, Angelo takes Cesare and me out to the tailor to get us our suits. I get a black suit with gold trim, a red tie, and black shoes, and Cesare gets a grey suit with blue trim, a grey-and-blue hat to match, and brown dress shoes. We also get fancy gloves to keep our fingerprints off what we touch, which also don’t get dirty easily, as Angelo puts it.

“The suits have a thin layer of protection for you to lessen the blow of gunfire, heavy objects, and sharp knives, but they won’t save you from explosives or high-caliber bullets, so please be careful,” the tailor says.

All of these fancy things, we get for free, since we’ve done so much for the family, but in the future, we’ll have to pay for any new suits or repairs to them ourselves. We walk out of the tailor's feeling like new men, ready to take on the world and all the challenges ahead. Still, we go about our daily business: wear our normal clothes for our day job, go home to get cleaned up, put on our suits, and patrol the neighborhood for trouble. As men of the family, we are also given concealed pistols to use as a last resort and a pair of brass knuckles to wear to give us an edge in normal fights. I must admit that it’s pretty nice to get more respect from the neighbors, and even hear that our parents and related family that they’re proud to see what we’ve become.

“Maybe you can finally give up on those stupid dreams of being in politics, Vincenzo,” my family jokes.

I laugh with them, but don’t say anything. A part of me still wants to help run the country from within rather than trying to affect it as a normal person. I look over to my brother, who isn’t laughing. He knows more than anyone my thoughts and dreams, and tells me later that, “Don’t let our family get you down. If you want to be a mayor, governor, or even the president of the country, then do it, and I’ll support you through it all.”

“I know, Cesare. Thank you,” I say as I hug him, and he hugs me back.

Some time passes, and not much changes. We don’t even hear much about thugs who are against the cops and officials, so we don’t expect much to happen when Angelo tells us to be guards at the Mediterranean rally. People think that people like us are nothing but outlaws because of what we did to ensure the right people entered office and justice was served. That’s what this rally is for, and its two speakers, Frank Ministro and his brother, John Ministro, are trying to convince the wider country that we’re good people who got pushed to taking the law into our own hands. Frank Ministro is like Angelo in that he’s a leading member of Casa Della Notte, while his brother is a member of Casa Della Luce, the official branch of our family that operates in public office.

As the two brothers are about to take the stage, some men near it put on masks, pull out their guns, and are about to fire them at them, but we stop them by throwing ourselves at them, since firing our guns may hit people in the crowd. Other members of the family and friends of the family bring down the gunmen, and yet, more fire at the brothers from windows that overlook the stage. The brothers take cover as the cops run up to protect them and are also targets of the gunmen. Meanwhile, the crowds run for cover, and chaos ensues. Both brothers are hit, taken to the nearby ambulance, and driven to the nearest hospital. With the crowds clear, the gunmen fire more wildly at the police and their supporters, so we do the same when we draw our pistols.

It’s a strange thing. Cesare and I shoot and kill our attackers, and don’t feel anything until after the dust settles. We watch as the ambulances and police take away the dead and wounded, and only feel pity for their stupidity.

“Is it wrong for us to feel this way?” Cesare asks.

“No. These people got what they deserved. Pity is the least we can feel about them,” I say as I cross myself.

Cesare also crosses himself. Angelo walks up to us and lets us know that there’s an emergency family meeting, and we already know what it’s about. The bosses tell us about how this incident was a travesty, and the government is going to be targeting any group or organization that looks shady, including our own. We’re given the task of investigating who started this mess so we can bring them to justice and get the authorities off our backs, which Cesare and I readily stand up in support of, and ask where we’re supposed to start our investigation.

“We helped the veterans while they were helping us overthrow the corrupt election, and we discovered the plot against them, so we should be the ones to handle this,” I say.

The bosses agree and give us and everyone else in the room a place to start. Now, all that’s left to do is put an end to the plot against the cops and officials before any more damage is done. I can only hope and pray that we’re fast enough to do so and that it will get rid of the heat on us.

The Good Neighbor Boys Quartiere Cavalieri: Chapter 1 – Birth of a New Kind of Mobster

Chapter 1 – Birth of a New Kind of Mobster

“A government of criminals and sinful men is no government at all,” old man, Russell Tranquillo says as part of his daily wisdom.

“We ought to cap all those bastards. That’s what our founding fathers did,” my brother, Cesare Campione, says.

Russell hits him upside the head with a dirty rag and says, “They killed other soldiers and drove out the whores of the crown. Violence was their last resort, so we should do the same.”

“Voting and protesting haven’t been working. What else can we do?” I ask.

“Think, Vicenzo. Unlike your brother, think. What else can we do?”

Considering it for a second, I say, “I can only think of things that are illegal.”

“So what if it is? Is it sinful?”

“Given our situation, I don’t think so.”

“Remember. Laws are made by men, but what’s right and wrong is decided by God, who is truth and love itself. Remember that, boys.”

Cesare and I nod, look at one another, and then continue our work with the other boys on the cars around us.

On our break, Cesare lights a cigarette and says, “I rigged some of those cop cars to break down. I hope those pigs get in an accident.”

“Idiot. They’re going to figure out it was our shop that tinkered with those cars. If they can falsely accuse Great War veterans of drunkenness and get away with it, they can shake us down for less,” I say and hit Cesare upside the head.

“You’re right. They shot and killed Earl Puramente when they tried to rob him. I heard his father, Amoroso Puramento, is with the mob. He’s already lost most of his kids in the Great War, and now this? He has to be mad. I’m telling you. We have to do something.”

“Soon, Cesare. Soon. The Great War veterans say they have us covered during this upcoming election, so the chief of police can’t rig it again.”

“Do you really think they aren’t going to walk all over them like they usually do? Just because they’re veterans doesn’t mean they have any official power as the cops do.”

I can only grunt in response.

“Thought so. We have to become made men, men of honor.”

“Our parents wouldn’t approve of that.”

“So what if they don’t? They respect and talk to them. Without those members of the mob, some families wouldn’t be able to feed their families and still be harassed by the cops.”

“We can be a friend of theirs, but not direct members of their groups, and still get some of their benefits.”

“Some, but not all. They won’t tell anyone who isn’t a made member everything, and didn’t you say that it’s best to know as much as possible before acting? Maybe they can get us secrets from their friends in the government to get you that governor job you want.”

“What about you? What would you do as a made man?”

“Go where you go, brother. I may want to put my neck on the line for others literally, but you want to do it by going into politics, and that’s crazier than what I have planned. More people will want you dead if you try to change the system from within. Don’t you remember what happened to that general who said we fought against the wrong side and was trying to make changes?”

“I remember.”

“Think about it, like you always do. You’ll come to see that your stupid brother isn’t as stupid as he seems.”

“You aren’t stupid, Cesare. Just a little too headstrong and loving.”

The day of the election comes, and sure enough, the cops are watching the polls and bullying the people to vote for the current administration. Seeing this, the Great War vets push back against the cops, and violence breaks out to the point where the cops take the voting machine and boxes to a walled prison to be counted. In Russell’s car mechanics shop, Russell, Cesare, our friends, our family, and all the veterans sit in dread as we hear the votes being counted.

One of the veterans stands up and says, “Soldiers! We fought and risked our lives to prevent tyranny in another country. Why can’t we do the same here in our own home?! We have a God-given right to do so, and our families, our neighbors are depending on us, so why don’t we do something rather than just sitting on our asses?!”

Everyone in the shop cheers. The veterans go to their friend in the army supply depot and arm everyone willing to take up arms, including Cesare, many of the city’s residents, and me. The veterans and Russell tell everyone to try not to kill anyone and only injure them.

Russell reminds everyone that, “We’re doing the right thing. We’re not doing this as an excuse to murder those bastards, even though they deserve it. The government won’t let us get away with it otherwise.”

The armed crowds walk through the streets as everyone else in the city cheers us on. We’re met by the police who tell us to disperse or else, and we refuse to unless we see that the ballots are fairly counted and don’t include fake votes. They deny us, and we deny them peace. The veterans at the front of the crowd open fire, injuring all the cops, and continue to the prison, where the voting machines and boxes are. Meanwhile, the crowds take their vengeance on the cops by beating them up, but not to the point of killing them.

At the prison, the veterans demand that we see the votes. When they’re denied again, the veterans shoot at the prison and blow up the chief of police’s and the mayor’s personal cars with dynamite, threatening to shoot through the windows next. Seeing they’re outnumbered, the cops surrender, and the votes are counted correctly. The man the people wanted in office is elected, and the city celebrates. The government tries to investigate what happened, but no one on our side says a word, and all records of guns and ammo being taken are erased, so they’re forced to accept the election results. With their allies, the rightfully elected officials put in jail everyone who rigged the elections, as well as the cops and officials who abused the civilians they were meant to serve.

Again, the city celebrates. At the party at the Delicato Restaurant, Russell tells us, “See? This is what happens with the right tools, connections, and actions. This is the perfect result. No one died, and those who deserved to face punishment got what they deserved.”

“You’re right, old man. I must admit you are right,” Cesare says as he smokes.

“I always am, or at least most of the time I am.”

We all laugh and have a good time. Some days later, a gang of bikers invades the same restaurant where we were celebrating. They act rowdy and drunk, and start scaring away everyone in and around the area. Seeing this, Cesare and I go up to them and tell them to stop. The bikers laugh at us and try to get us to loosen up by drinking and eating with them.

“Look at these kids trying to tell us what to do!” they say.

“Why don’t you work on my bike like you usually do?”

“Go back to your boss or party with us, grease monkeys. Just don’t ruin our good time.”

Cesare and I look at the bartender, who is looking expectantly at us as if silently asking for help, so we oblige. Cesare and I grab a bottle each of alcohol that the bikers are drinking out of and smash them across their faces. The rest of the bikers jump up and throw themselves at us, excited to fight. They sloppily throw punches at us, but when they hit us, we get hit hard. I try to keep my distance and use chairs to help me get them down, while Cesare mostly uses his fists, nearby bottles, and utensils on the tables.

Bringing the fight outside, we’re knocked down and get up, ready to continue the fight. We’re pretty beat up, whereas the bikers seem more affected by the alcohol than by all the cuts and bruises on them. They’re about to attack us until they see what we see and laugh at us.

“You grease monkeys can’t beat us!” they say.

“We’re still standing, and we’re drunk out of our minds!”

“You’d best get out of here while you still can.”

“I can say the same thing to you,” Cesare says.

“We won’t let you mess with our neighborhood without a fight!” I add.

Before we can charge at the bikers, a group of men in suits runs up and steps in between us. Some have bats in their hands. Others have brass knuckles. The men in suits beat up the bikers and smash up their bikes.

“Get the hell out of our neighborhood!” one of the men in suits says.

“Remember who did this to you!”

Everyone else sees the fleeing injured bikers and beats them so that every biker who caused a scene leaves in an ambulance. Angelo Delicato walks out of the restaurant, observes what’s happening, and looks at us. He comes up to us and puts a hand on our shoulders.

“I’m proud of you boys. You acted like real men,” Angelo says.

“I’d be less of a man if I acted otherwise,” I say.

“That’s right. You put your lives on the line, even though you were outnumbered and could’ve been killed.”

“Did we do something wrong? Do you need us to help you clean up your restaurant? We will,” Cesare asks.

“You’re not in trouble. In fact, I think you’ll like what I’m offering you. Come back inside my restaurant.” Going inside the restaurant, Angelo takes us to the furthest corner of it and says in a low voice, “Russell told me you’re interested in helping the family, possibly becoming members. If you do a few favors for us, that can be arranged.”

Cesare is elated and automatically accepts it and asks what we have to do.

Angelo doesn’t say anything or even look at him. Instead, he looks at me in silence.

“What’s wrong, Vincenzo? This is your ticket to changing the country like you want,” Cesare asks me.

“You’re right, but there’s more to it. I don’t want to do anything that I’ll have a guilty conscience for later,” I say.

Angelo smiles and says, “You won’t have to. We’re a new kind of family, unlike those savages in suits who were out for themselves and their own. You see me in church, Vincenzo. You know I do good work for the community with my own money and two hands. I sweat and bleed for everyone who deserves it. If you don’t like what you do, then you can always back off. We only ask that you don’t say anything about the more…sensitive aspects. As far as I can see from you marching with the veterans on the corrupt cops and standing up for the neighborhood like you did today, you’re already a man of honor. What do you say?”

I look at Cesare, back at Angelo, and say, “Alright. I’ll help out. Tell us what we need to do.”

My 360th book is out today!

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The Saint of Games, Bonaventura, is a virtuous man who loves gambling and games, yet he feels directionless at this point in his life, despite his many wins and the riches from his family's casino. He is introduced to a supernatural card game by a mysterious clown, and through it, he'll play against other players and find God's will for him in them.

Divinity's Divinations: Chapter 4 – Right in Front of You

Chapter 4 – Right in Front of You

The sun is finally starting to set on this long day of mine, and I’m ending it with Jess holding my arm and walking down the long boardwalk of Sapphire City. Noticing how quiet we are, I say, “I’m sorry that I haven’t said anything in a while. Just got a lot on my mind.”

“That’s fine with me because my Heaven is being with you.”

“Right, and you’re probably not going to leave my side for a while then.”

“I don’t need to leave your side at all! I can be like this for the rest of my life.”

That might actually be a benefit for what I’m planning next.

As Jess and I walk by Testardo’s family casino, we see none other than Duraturo, the brother of Testardo and Regina and mayor of Sapphire City. “Ah, there you are, Bonaventura. I heard you humbled my brother like always, and even ended on a draw with my sister.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Mayor. Would you like to play a game of Divinity’s Divinations with me as well?”

“That’s exactly why I was out here searching for you. It’s Divine Providence that we met like this. Let’s find a table out here to play on.” We find a table, and even while starting to play, Jess hangs on me.

“Uh, Jess. I can’t exactly play like this.”

“Of course you can. Besides, I can act as your good luck charm.”

“Miss, please give him some room to breathe. Plus, you’d put me at a great disadvantage if you give him your luck.” Jess lets go, and we start our game. We flip a coin, and Duraturo goes first. Meanwhile, a crowd gathers to place bets on who will win.

“Let’s start big with the Parents modifier. Using this and its Up effect, we both use a modifier of yours or mine of my choice. Hmm. I think we’ll use this one.” Duraturo flips over and picks my Prisoner modifier, and the Up effect is revealed. “Can we use this one? You may make us use another.”

“Let’s use the Prisoner. I want to see how interesting things get when we use it.”

“Very well then.” Duraturo uses the Prisoner to force one of my modifiers to be face down, and I do the same to him. Unfortunately for me, he picked the Penitent modifier to be face down, so that could cause some trouble. “For my second move, I shall flip over the Vocational modifier, its Up effect stipulating that you must give me a card from the top of your deck or play a card of higher value on my field than the card you play every time you play a card. I choose to use this card for myself.”

“Your modifiers’ effects are pretty brutal and wordy. Tell me. Is there another reason why you want to play with me?”

“I’m merely playing this wonderful game for the same reasons you and many others are. I need some direction in my life and to get a better picture of myself. From the cards that I’ve played, you see that I’m very commanding and try to both benefit my opponent, but not give them more advantages than me.”

“The automatic win condition of my Dealer is to benefit my opponent and myself three times, and I’ve already benefited myself twice and you once. Speaking about my cards, you must know that the family and the religious are the pillars of society. Without good families, priests, nuns, and consecrated laity, the power of the government would falter and fall into chaos. Yes, I’m beginning to see what God is trying to tell me. Ah. Before I forget, I play a seven, ten, and five, and end my turn. I’m trying to go for the automatic win and have the game set for me by the second round as my brother told me to do.”

“I swear, he can give you and your sister advice that will make you win, but he can’t do the same for himself when he faces me.”

“That’s what we admire about him. He’s always thinking about others rather than himself, and only thinks of himself if it can benefit other people. I have to copy that mindset, especially being the kind of man I am with the position I have.”

“I have a lot to live up to, Mr. Mayor. I think I’m going to need a miracle to win this, so I flip over the Divine modifier, get the Up effect, and give you three cards from my deck: a three, a five, and a one. Because I did that, the Lovers modifier activates, thankfully giving me its Up effect, so I’ll hand you another three. I play a five, give you a five from my deck, play a seven, give you an eight from my deck, give you a nine, and hand you a ten from my deck. I don’t think you know how insane my score can get since my Dealer multiplies my round-ending score by seven for each time I’ve given cards, and so far, I’ve given away cards on five separate instances. My Dealer’s automatic win may be forfeit, but my ending score might be in the hundreds of thousands. I think it already is if my math is correct.”

“I’m well aware of that. Testardo also told me that going for a Dealer’s automatic win condition is the best way to play the game, so that’s what I’m trying to do.” Duraturo and I draw cards and start the next round. He flips over the Royalty modifier. With its Down effect, he puts down a ten and a nine on my playing field from the top of his deck. “Do you accept these cards? If not, I’ll have to exchange one of them with another from the top of my deck.”

“I’ll gratefully accept them.”

“Very well then. Moving on. The Chief modifier is next. Its Up effect will let us play a little game.” Duraturo and I shuffle our hand and playing field into our decks, and we draw four cards. “Do you want to exchange your cards with mine?”

“I’m good.” When we show each other our hands, it’s revealed that I have the higher scoring hand, so I decide how the cards are played on the field. I give myself a nine, a ten, an eight, and a five, and give Duraturo a three, a nine, a ten, and a nine.

“Here we go. This’ll be my final move, and since I am a Politician, I might as well play one. The Down effect of this card is long to read, but it counts as one that benefits me as I take cards from your deck that you won’t know the total value of and have to exchange the same number of cards to get them back, or I can simply keep them. Your choice, if you think it matters.”

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I admit defeat since you’ve fulfilled your automatic win condition.”

The crowd around us disperses, sad at my loss, while others are happy they won their bet that I would lose. “Thank you for the quick, and yet, exhilarating game, Bonaventura. You would’ve surely won if I hadn’t been so blessed by how the cards turned out. I think I’ve learned what I’m meant to do.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“To continue on the path already set before me. I’ve had my doubts about whether I should continue being mayor, and whether I should run for governor or help Testardo with the family business, but this card game has made me realize that I’m exactly where God wants me to be. Thank you again, Bonaventura. I wouldn’t have figured out the obvious without you.”

“Happy to be of service, Mr. Mayor.” If only it were that easy for me to figure out what to do. I still have lingering doubts, but I know I’m being pushed to a singular solution that should be just as obvious for me.

“Go for it then!” the clown says as he appears out of nowhere like usual. As I’m about to complain about him scaring me again, I see that everyone around me is frozen.

“What’s going on? Did you do this? Who even are you?”

“You should know by now, if the three faces on mine don’t give it away. You should also know what I want you to do. I told you while you visited me in the adoration chapel.”

“Okay then. I think I get what you’re saying, but it’s hard to believe, not just who you are, but also what you want me to do.”

“Oh, ye of little faith. To get rid of those last bits of doubt, I’ll do you a favor and remove them by playing the same card game you’ve been playing all day with you.” The clown spits out a coin from his mouth, and we call it. He goes first, and a bunch of cards appear before him. “Ah! Don’t draw any cards yet. My Prank event card automatically flips itself over at the beginning of the game. Its Up effect says we can’t draw cards this round, but we can draw the cards next turn. Don’t feel too bad about not drawing cards because my next modifier, the Joy and its Up effect, allows us to draw five cards. Don’t feel so good, but now, the cards five to ten are valued negatively.”

“What kind of trickster deck is this? Your Dealer also dictates that the cards one to four are valued negatively and the player with the lowest score wins, so if any of my multipliers go off, I can get a high negative number and lose the game, but win it.”

“It’s called the Joker deck for a clown like me. It’s made for fun! Besides, you shouldn’t worry about how silly this game is. Tell me…”

Suddenly, all the color in the clown’s face and clothes is gone. He starts to bleed from his head, chest, feet, and hands. “What’s the one thing you should worry about? What’s the only serious matter that exists in the world?”

I feel something tightening around my head. My hands and feet feel pierced, my side feels cut open, and my body feels like it’s sweating to the point where I feel like my blood is going to be pouring out of every part of it. “Uh. Sinning against God is the only thing I should worry about, and the salvation of souls is the only serious matter in the world.”

“…correct…You have spoken wisely.” The clown plays a three, a four, a seven, a five, and a two, and ends his turn, his faces still stuck in his eerie and bleeding form.

I don’t have a good feeling about this game or what’s happening. I play the Prisoner modifier, and with its Up effect, I prevent one of the clown’s modifiers from being used.

“That’s a shame. That could’ve helped you win the game.”

Ignoring the clown’s words, I flip over the Fool next and get its Up effect, so I play a ten from my deck. For my last modifier, I play the Worker, get its Up effect, shuffle my hand into the deck, draw another five cards, and play all of them: a ten, three, five, two, and one. With my turn and the round over, we draw four cards.

The clown silently flips over a modifier, and all the color returns to him. “The Two-Faced modifier is next, and its Up effect dictates that all the Up effects of modifiers used after this have to use their Down effect. If that isn’t confusing enough, I activate my Fiction modifier. I flipped it Up, but its Down effect activates, and now when a modifier is flipped Up, you have to use its opposite effect, so you always have to use the Up effect. I place two threes and end my turn.”

What’s the point of this game?

Come on. I can’t let that bother me. I play the Divine, and because of the clown’s modifiers, I have to give cards. I go through the motions of the effect. The Penitent modifier automatically activates; I give a card again. The Lovers modifier activates, and I give a third card, securing my victory. I place whatever cards I have left to fill the playing slots and end my turn. “That’s it. Game’s over.”

“Ah, great work! Your nickname should be Israel from now on.”

“Seriously, who are you and what do you want?”

“You already know the answer, but I’ll force you to accept it. My last modifier is the best hint at my identity. Let me ask you first, what is often misrepresented, men seek, and are fearful of?”

“…the truth…”

“That’s it.” The clown flips over his last modifier, the Truth. With its Up effect, cards one through five have their regular value. “Why are you afraid of the truth? After playing all these card games and talking to your friends, what have you discovered your life’s purpose to be as of right now? I know you figured it out after your game with Duraturo and it was there from the start after your game with Testardo.”

“It’s…um. To live my life as I am right now and marry Jess. I guess I’m afraid to accept it because it feels like an answer I don’t want.”

“Such is life, and yet, you must humble yourself as always to find fulfillment in it. Do you hate your life as it is? Do you hate me for revealing it to you?”

“No. No, I don’t hate it or you, and will do my best to accept it with joy and thankfulness, my Lord and God.”

“I know you will, my good and faithful servant.”

Time resumes to normal, and the clown disappears. Who would’ve thought I would play a card game against God and that He would appear as a clown to me? Does He do that to other people? Maybe He did so because others don’t take Him seriously or because I didn’t. I'd better improve on that, regardless.

“Are you okay, Bonaventura? Did that defeat against Duraturo really hit you that hard? Want me to go beat him, physically or through a game, for you?”

Composing myself, I say, “No, not at all.” Not wanting to hold back what I should’ve done any longer, I get on one knee and use the ring in my pocket to propose to Jess. “I know you’ve been waiting for this, so here it is. Will you marry me, Jess?”

Jess seems overjoyed at first, then her expression sours. “Now you ask me after so many times of denying me? Even today, you denied me marrying you, but now, you want to do it? What changed?”

“Nothing did. I just had to realize the obvious and do it. Please, forgive my constant rejections. This card game has made me realize that what I’m supposed to do and where I’m supposed to be is right here, where I’ve always been. If God wanted me to be somewhere else with someone else, it would’ve happened by now, so-”

Jess takes the ring and slips it on her finger. “Yeah, we better get married before you end up with someone else! I do!” Jess and I kiss, a little too long for my liking, to the point where I have to push her away. Now, she’s clinging to me even more, and I must have lipstick all over my face.

Passersby who saw what happened congratulate us on our marriage and tell me it should’ve happened sooner. “Yeah, it should’ve,” I admit. It took Divine intervention and a whole lot of card games for me to realize it, but I’m glad that I did, and thank God for it. From now on, I won’t be as hesitant to accept God’s will, appreciate what I have more, see the value in the here and now, and pray and hope to be better in the future. May Providence, who guides fates and decides the winner of games, ever mercifully be in my favor. Amen.

 

The End