Hey! I've been watching a lot of italian mafia movies lately, I couldn't help myself, I just had to write something about it, and hey, Bubbline is great, I bet that could use some sort of mafia twist, right? Something short to get going for now, R&R for more and Chapter 1 is coming next week! I hope!
You know, being an American during the 70s it's a really weird thing, and I mean a pure American, as in, the mother of my mother and her mother too, I've never bothered to care, not enough to ask, that is, but my father loves to remind us of how our blood can be traced to the earliest of the land of freedom. That's not the weird part, though, the weird part is that even with all the talk of freedom and the beauty of it and how it was all great, I never really felt an attachment to our country. Not as a real American, at least. Foreigners would come and go on about how great this land of new opportunity was for them, how, in comparison to their homeland, they could make it here. You'd think these strange countries were hellholes where people tore each other apart for a piece of bread or something, and people are coming here by the thousands, so we must be doing something right, right? Americans love their country, and as soon as a dreamer comes looking for an opportunity, we are ready to welcome them, open arms, no questions asked, 'You're one of us now', if you want to dream, you were an American, and that's what, as far as I could tell, made us the greatest nation to ever exist.
Yet the foreigners couldn't really leave their country behind.
It doesn't bother me, it amuses me, it really does. Here in the land of the free we are quick to share our culture, but these people that came from far away lands had the luxury of having it both ways, they were American, but they were just as British, French, Celtic, Italian or Irish as if they were living in their own countries too. Suddenly parts of town were coated in different shades of color, authentic foreign food that wouldn't even believe, you couldn't even understand what was being said on the streets, was that a weird Scottish accent or Welsh? Is this sign written in Spanish or French? What was that even supposed to be, Chinese? It was crazy, and I loved it, as I said before I never got a feel of the whole patriotism thing, but getting all these cultures under the same roof and allowing them to be a part of a bigger thing, I think I get it, even if I don't feel it, I get it. You don't need any requisite, you don't have to change, you just have to try. That's why this country is great.
School is particularly amusing, of course, as an American seeing all these people talking weird English, acting differently or dressing funny, it was great, let me tell you, and I realize I'm a bit insensitive, but I still find it real amusing. I do. It isn't all funny, though, some of it is awfully alluring, exciting, attractive. Hard to put into words, it just is, the way some people do things, they way they talk, it's like something you never knew you'd find in-a-good-way amusing, but you did.
For me it was the Italians, I don't know why, but I have some theories, first of all, they were dangerous, not all of them, of course, but you heard it all the time, they called it 'whacking', the Italian mafia can and will disappear you if you mess with them, it's like a big happy family of bullies that instead of stealing lunch money they stab you in the chest for owing them money, did I mention they had a lot of money? I don't believe it, but I've heard that they make a lot of money, gambling, extortion, narcotics, anything illegal, really. Horrible, isn't it? Well, I don't know about that, to me it sounds exciting, you never know how much of it it's real and how much isn't, I bet it's mostly public paranoia caused by the classy accent and one too many gangster movies, another one of my theories, boy, do I love gangster movies.
My main appeal is probably that I'm basically forced to be around an Italian, perhaps the talk of being thrilled by the mobsters may seem like I'm a bit dumb, but rest assured, I'm actually really smart, top of the class since I can remember, pretty and if I do say so myself, pretty likeable, the whole package. Anyway, what matters it's that I'm smart, smart enough to be asked to help out a girl in my class, Marceline Adduci, beautiful girl, tall, pale as snow and the voice of an angel, also rumored aspiring "made woman" among the Adduci family, I suppose that's why she doesn't go to school very often, preferring to climb her way up the criminal ladder than to come to class, you know, like everyone else. She probably thinks I'm a tool, yet never misses our meetings, I assume it's because her father, Vittorio "Hun" Adduci, isn't very into the idea of Marceline being a mobster, you know, since she's a woman and all, but she's stubborn, if the rumors are true, my little Marceline is way more ballsy than your average punk, she's got brains to boot too, or maybe my intellect is rubbing off on her, despite of barely attending classes she keeps a decent score.
Sometimes I catch her staring at me while we study, what a weirdo, I tell you. She's scary, I don't dare looking back at her, I might be dying to ask a million questions regarding the family business, but I try to keep everything professional between us, those Italians, something about them just rubs me wrong way, but I love it, that's why I don't object teaching her, that and Mister Vittorio loves me, he probably thinks I'm guiding his daughter to the right path, I've only seen him a couple of times, usually after the exam scores are given to us students, and whenever that happens he invites me for dinner to the Adduci's fancy restaurant, and hands me at least 20 bucks while Marcy isn't looking. Marcy. Hun loves to call her like that, it's got a nice ring to it, it really does, I don't call her like that, naturally, but I like it.
I know it's a bad idea to get involved with them in any way, but it's just too fun, being around an Adduci makes you feel like someone might get stabbed or shot at any second, at the library, at their house, anywhere. It's great. It probably doesn't sound very great, though.
The reason I'm telling this it's because to me, hanging out with Marceline is enough to fulfil my crazy gangster fantasies, she's cool, cold and collected, again, I'm smart, not smart enough not get involved, but smart enough not actually be her friend or anything, and hey, if she wouldn't have asked for my help as her tutor I wouldn't have approached her either. For all I knew she more so put up with me to get her on check with her schoolwork, that's what I thought, until she actually invited me to one of the 'gatherings' held at the Adduci's restaurant, it wasn't Hun's idea either, you could tell she wanted me to go. During the last seconds of our usual Friday meeting she just drops the bomb on me, I couldn't believe it, it was sincere, a charming smile, puppy eyes, please-come tone and everything, it was pretty subtle, though, she's still Marceline Adduci, but the softness on her eyes made it clear, she wanted me to go.
The reunions at Adduci's are well known in school, it's a wonder Hun allows them in the first place, but I suppose Mario, Marcy's brother, was just one of those people that always got what they wanted anyway, I never met Mario, but he was well know as some sort of legend on school, where he also studied around 2 years ago, he had plenty of money to spare, good looking, a real charmer with the ladies and a loyal friend to anyone looking to pay some of those illegal narcotics I mentioned earlier, you either knew him or you didn't, he was known to 'recruit' average punks for dirty work or actually promising youngsters looking to get into the whole Cosa Nostra thing, but it's all hearsay. The 'party' was bound to have gambling, drugs and at least a couple of mean looking people, I have no idea why would Marceline want me to go, is she nuts? I have no idea what's her problem, if she wanted to hang out we could've gone to the movies to see a gangster flick or something, not a real mafia gathering. Was she planning on killing poor ol' Bonnibel for being such a tool? I just can't figure it out, but boy do I want to go just to find out, you know, maybe I'm not so smart after all.
Thanks for reading! Follow for the next chapter next week and leave a review!