Velocity Shift
By – TempestRaces
Chapter 13 - La morte mi troverà vivo
or
Death Will Find Me Alive
The morning of Chris Scarpa's funeral dawned under slate grey clouds and Storm, for one, was glad. She wouldn't have had the day she laid her cousin to rest any other way. If it hadn't been cloudy, if rain hadn't been threatening to fall she would have felt as though the weather had personally slapped her in the face. If the day she buried her closest cousin and brother's best friend had been sunny she would have felt like God, via the weather, was telling her that her cousin had deserved to die. And so she was glad the weather was dark. The whole city deserved to be sad. The whole country deserved to be desolate. Everyone in the state of Montana deserved to feel the depth of sorrow that she and her brother felt. Every last red neck, farming hick in the whole state deserved to die for taking her cousin and friend away. Nothing anyone said to her would make her change her mind about feeling that way.
They'd made her break a promise, those people in Montana and her uncle and his crew. She never broke her promises. If she gave one it was because she fully intended to follow through with it. She took her promises seriously. If her answer was maybe she wouldn't promise. In her world she knew if you told someone something would get done they had to be able to take your word that it would happen. She'd made a promise that the whole group would get together again soon. That it would be just like old times. Now it would never be like old times again. She'd promised Johnny…
She wouldn't allow herself to even think of Johnny Marbles' final arrangements scheduled for the next day. If she did she would simply crawl back under her covers and never get up again. Two men she'd known so long she couldn't remember a time without one and could barely remember a time without the other and now both were gone.
If Matty and Taylor hadn't taken out Teddy, Clueless, and Frank the Watch Storm knew she would have. Over and over she would have shot them and she would have relished every minute of it. Every time a bullet tore into their flesh she would have laughed, each time their blood was spilled she would have grinned, taken her satisfaction. And that wouldn't have been enough for that overconfident sheriff. She would have tied him up and tortured him until he begged for mercy. And then she would have tortured him more. She would never have showed him mercy. Never! He had planned on killing her brother, her cousin, her Taylor. She felt the need to avenge her cousin and friend rising in her, rage was filling her soul with its blood red grip. She wanted to take it out on something, someone, but there was nothing left. Everyone save Taylor and Matty had ended up dead.
Only Matty and Taylor had made it back from what was supposed to be a 'simple fuckin' run'. Some things were just never that simple. Teddy's words, told to her so many times before echoed in her head. "Some situations aren't manageable."
God damn Teddy to hell! Storm roared in her head, unwilling to outwardly show signs of how shaken she was. If he wasn't burning in the pits of hell for what he'd done then Storm knew she'd never believe in god again. If anyone deserved to be denied entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven it was Teddy Deserve. Catholic or no, if all it took to overcome such a grievous sin was to ask forgiveness for it then Storm could only surmise the system for passing judgement on the dead was flawed.
He tried to kill Matty! She thought to herself in incredulous anger. Fuckin idiot! Doesn't he know no one messes with my brother! If he wasn't dead then I'd kill him where he stood. There was a distinction in the business. You killed people the boss sent you to kill. You killed people who crossed you. You killed people who tried to kill you. You didn't kill your family. That was a line you didn't cross. It didn't matter who you were. If one of your own had to die you got your boss's permission or you had someone from outside take care of it.
Storm and Matty had many uncles, but most of them were no real relation. That was the term they'd grown up using for all of their father's close associates. Teddy was a blood uncle, born of the same mother and father as their mother. What right did he have to try and kill his nephew over something Matty didn't even have any control over and didn't want anyway? If their father had died at any time Matty would have handed the whole operation over to Teddy without question. He didn't want to be the boss. He just wanted a job. It wasn't fair!
Teddy was dead, and that was a big part of the issue Storm knew. She would never get to yell at her uncle for what he'd done. Would never get to shoot him as he'd tried to shoot Matty and had managed to shoot Taylor. Matty had been the one to pump him full of lead and Matty hadn't even enjoyed the act, not like Storm knew she would have.
Her brother had barely spoken to anyone since he'd had his meeting with their father in the office of the hall. Storm knew he'd told the old man he was finished with the business, killing any lingering hope Benny had of taking his son into 'the family' with him. The books were open but there was no one to make. Matty was out, finally and forever, like it always should have been.
With a groan Storm tossed her blankets back and got out of her bed. She walked into the bathroom and got into the shower, carefully avoiding seeing the mirror. She didn't want to see how horrible she looked. As the hot spray soaked her hair and trickled down her back she closed her eyes and sighed as she let the water course over her face and shoulders. She needed a good lightening show complete with rain and thunder she could stand in. It would help to take away her memories, help to cleanse her soul. She leaned her head against the cool tiles and let the water pour down on her back.
Why Chris? Why Marbles? Why did it have to be her friends? It wasn't fair. Nothing had been right or fair in her life in so long she was beginning to wonder why she was surprised by the fact now. As the hot water ran down through her hair from the crown of her head, down over her face and into her eyelashes she let herself cry for the first time since she'd been told about her cousin and friend. She had forced herself to show nothing but stony calm to the world. She knew her brother needed her to be strong for him. But now, alone, she let out her grief over the loss of two of her closest friends. She didn't exactly have that many close friends and she was really feeling the loss of two. She pounded the wall in front of her with a closed fist as her mouth opened in a silent scream of agony. Sliding down the wall she sat on the floor of the tub and let the hot water pour down on her as steam billowed around the room, filling the shower stall and fogging the mirror. Why? She rapped her arms around her legs and bowed her head to her knees and cried for her cousin, for her friend, for her brother, and for herself.
Matty had killed his uncle. Didn't matter if Teddy had it coming or not, Matty was having a very hard time dealing with it. Storm knew that she had to be the one who dealt with it matter of factly. That didn't make it easy. She got out of the shower after she figured she'd be able to keep herself together. After doing her hair up on top of her head in a restrained style that hid both the colour and curls from the world she left the bathroom and started to think about getting dressed. She didn't think either golden, sunny blond or perky curls were appropriate for a funeral. She didn't feel sunny or perky.
After dressing in a knit black sweater and an a line black knee length skirt she tossed her leather trench coat over her arm and headed to her brother's room. He never answered her knock on his door but that didn't stop her, she pushed her way into his room anyway. She found him still in bed, his eyes red and puffy as he snored, still asleep. All Matty wanted to do since coming home from Wibaux was sleep. It wasn't healthy and Storm knew he'd have to get on with his life some time.
She sat on the side of the bed, beside her brother's sleeping form and gently brushed some of his hair back off his forehead. His hair was getting long, Storm mused. It was normally hard to tell as he gelled it back in an old school slicked back hairdo but he'd clearly not bothered doing anything with it after his last shower and it was free to fall into his face. As she looked at Matty sleeping so peacefully, her rage started to come back. This was her brother. Her gentle, sweet brother who had never done anything to anyone. Hell, he hadn't even known how to use a gun until he'd forced Taylor to show him in Montana. Why was he the one being forced to suffer? All because the world was a bigoted place to live and no one would believe he was just one of the nice guys, looking for a job, looking to be an innocence citizen. That he wasn't one of the 'goodfellas'.
"Ok Matty D, time to get up." Storm said as she shook Matty's shoulder.
"What?" He grumbled sleepily.
"Ya heard me babe, time to get up."
"I don't want to get up yet Stormi," Matty said sleepily in a tone reminding Storm of how he'd talked to her when he was twelve. Then he sighed and rolled over so he was facing away from his sister. "Let me sleep a bit longer. Come back for me later."
"Nope. You gotta get up Matty. We gotta do this thing and then we can start to get back to normal."
"I don't want to get up yet. Come back later and wake me up then."
"Nope. You gotta get up now." Storm stood up and then tore the blankets back off her brother. "Up!"
"Storm, Jesus Christ!" Matty roared, sitting up. "I said I didn't want to get up!"
"And I said you are anyway. So get the fuck outta bed. Do I need to pick out your clothes too, or can you manage that part?" She was intentionally harsh, hoping to shock her brother into anger, knowing anger was better for the moment then sadness.
"Why are you being such a pushy bitch?" Matty growled at his sister. "Besides, what if I hadn't had anything on under here?"
"You never sleep like that and if you were I just wouldn'ta looked. Now get up before I forget I love you and take exception to being called a bitch."
"I'm not a kid! I'm 24 years old and if I don't want to get up then I don't need my barely 20 year old sister telling me I have to."
"Someone has to act like the adult here Mathew James Demaret and if it ain't gonna be you then I guess it has to be me. Like it always has to be me." Storm sighed. She didn't want to remind Matty of the next part. "You told Uncle Sal you'd say something for Chris, Matty."
Matty covered his face in his hands and Storm watched as his shoulders shook. He seemed to get it together after a minute. "Ok, I'll get up and get ready."
"Good. I'll be around so let me know when you're ready ok?"
"Sure."
Storm left the room, knowing her brother well enough to know that once he'd given her his word he'd get up and get ready he would. She went back to her room and dialled the number that would connect her to Taylor Reese. The phone rang repeatedly but he never answered. Where the hell could he be? Storm asked herself as she hung up. Surely he knew he had to come to the funeral with them. He had been a friend to Chris for a long time, and he had to go.
He was no doubt sitting in his place not answering any of his calls. That tore it. Storm was sick to death of being the one to make all the men in her life do the adult thing. If she and Matty had to go to the funeral then Taylor did too. He wasn't getting out of it. She strode down the stairs and pulled her coat on at the door.
"Where you goin?" Benny asked her from the door to the living room.
"Out." Storm answered vaguely and looked up at her father.
His face was drawn. His eyes had black circles under them and to Storm he looked years older now than he had a mere week earlier. Losing Teddy had been a real blow to the old man. They had been partners for a very long time. Benny had always been the boss but he'd looked to Teddy for advice, wisdom, and to handle all the things that needed handling. Teddy had been his consigliere. In English it meant councilman and that had been Teddy's job. The man in charge of advising, mediating and handling all the disputes among the lower men of the business so the boss could worry about other things. Storm knew her father had trusted Teddy implicitly and had come to find out he'd been putting his trust in someone who'd been betraying it. Not to mention that someone had been his brother in law, uncle to his children, and his most trusted advisor. Storm realized it had to be hitting her father hard. Then when you factored in Chris's death and how it had been Benny who'd had to break the news of their son's death to Sal and Eve Scarpa she knew the whole situation was hitting her father just as hard if not harder then it was her. She decided to take pity on her father. Their issues looked small compared to the current big picture.
"I'll be back soon pop. I got Matty up and getting ready so just make sure he's ready to go by the time I get back. It's only nine now so if I'm home by ten and he's ready to go than we'll have lots of time."
"Ok. Just be careful Storm."
She nodded and left the house. She climbed into her Cadillac, knowing that she would also be the one who ended up driving the Demaret family to the service and gravesite. Her car was still in Miami but even if it wasn't, it wouldn't be appropriate for the job. Her father rarely drove, Matty wouldn't and there was no one else left. They could take the limo she figured, but that was more ostentatious then she wanted to be. She drove efficiently through the early morning streets of New York and made good time getting to Taylor's house. She tuned the radio to the local variety station and let the music fade into the background. Until a song started with a strange combination of instruments that caught her attention she hadn't even really realized the radio was on. She listened and the lyrics caught her attention.
So kid, don't mourn take your life back
Carpe Diem and all that
What really matters today is today see
The more you live the happier I'll be
Ya'd better take your time and shine
Everybody gotta learn sometimes
That there's no goodbyes cause after every night fall a new sun will rise
She could hear her cousin saying that to her. He wouldn't want them to cry for him. He'd want them to carry on with their lives and remember him fondly. He'd want her to carry on, try to make something of herself. Try to seize the day. He was too much a party child to want anyone to sit around and cry for him. He'd want them to remember the good times, so Storm resolved to try.
Parking behind Taylor's van she cut the engine and carefully got out of the car. She wasn't use to moving around in a skirt and it was a trial to preserve her modesty by times. She entered the building and climbed all the stairs up to Taylor's apartment door. She knocked and waited. No noise could be heard inside the house, and no one came to the door. She pounded louder.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you Miss." A kindly looking older Italian woman said from behind Storm. She was carrying several bags of groceries and it looked like she was headed back to her own place.
"Why?" Storm asked as she pounded on the door again.
"The man who lives in that one has a wicked temper and he came home in the worst mood any of us have ever seen him in the other day. He hasn't left his place since."
"I appreciate the warning but I'll be ok with him. I've known him since I was eight." Storm pounded the door again.
"You're one of 'them' then aren't you? One of the people he works for." The woman looked slightly afraid of Storm when she made her assumption.
"Naw, just a friend. A very good friend." Storm winked.
"You mean he finally has a girl?" The older woman grinned. "We've all wondered. I mean, we know what he does for a living but he's so good to the folks in this building. We wouldn't feel safe opening our doors if we didn't have Taylor living in the building. He makes sure that everyone knows we're under his protection and that of Mr. Chains."
"His name is actually Mr. Demaret."
"Who's is sweetheart?"
"The man who Taylor works for, who he would have arranged to have protect the building. 'Chains' is a nickname. His real name is Benny Demaret."
"How's a nice girl like you know that?"
"His son is a friend of mine." Storm looked at the woman and the woman looked back, not buying it for a heartbeat. "Ok, and he's also my brother. Benny is my dad."
"So you are one of them then."
"I was born that way but I'm not one of them."
"Of course not, you're a girl." The woman finished up like that explained everything and then started to unlock the door across the hall. "Well, good luck with your young man. You'll need it. If you need help just holler and I'll call the cops. Not that they'll do much for you against him."
Storm watched the lady go into her place and then heard the door lock. She tossed up her hands in frustration. Taylor wasn't ever going to come open his door and she wasn't about to start screaming at him from the hallway. She pulled a pin out of her hair and went to work on the lock. She was glad to find that Taylor hadn't changed anything since the last time she broke into his place and she got in without much difficulty.
All the curtains were drawn and the place was quiet and dark inside. There were a pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink and Storm sniffed the air. She wrinkled her nose. His milk was gone off. The other time's she'd been in Taylor's apartment it had been so clean she'd actually wondered if he had a cleaning lady. From what she knew of how her father and brother kept house men were not capable of keeping a place as clean as Taylor did on their own. He'd really let the place go, or he'd dismissed his cleaning lady. She headed back through the house toward the bedroom in the back.
The room was equally untidy to match the rest of the house. Taylor was in his bed asleep. Storm sighed. What was it with men and sleeping when they were upset? First Matty and now Taylor. She hadn't heard from him since they'd gotten back to the city so she'd be willing to bet he'd been doing nothing but sleep since he'd gotten back too. Of course he'd been wounded so he had an excuse. But not now, not when it was time to pay his last respects to a good friend.
Storm strode over to the windows and tossed the curtains back with a flourish. Taylor groaned and pulled his blankets over his head, all without waking up. Great! He's going to be difficult too. Storm walked over to the side of his bed and tossed his blankets back. He was facing her curled up in the foetal position on his bed. When the light hit his face and the chilled apartment air hit his bare skin he woke to glare at Storm with sleepy black eyes.
"What are you doin here?" He growled.
"You ain't answerin your phone and I ain't heard from you in days. I'm just checkin to see if there was any strange smells comin outta this place or not."
"I'm fine. You can go now."
"Nope, sorry. No such luck my friend. You got places to be. Get up." Storm stood with her hands on her hips staring down at Taylor.
"Who's gonna make me? You?"
"If you want to take it that far, yeah, I'll make you. Get up Taylor." Storm closed her eyes and wished for patience. "I already had this fight with my brother today. Can you save me the headache and not make me repeat it?"
"If you're trying to get me to go to the funeral you can save yourself the headache. I'm not goin."
"Yeah, you are."
"He wasn't my cousin. Your family and me have totally different religions. I am not going."
"He was your friend, you were there when he died and it hardly matters that we think Jesus came and you're still waiting for him. It's not about religion. It's about the fact that Chris was all of our friend and we owe it to him to say our final good-byes. He came back when someone had a gun to your head if Matty tells me correctly and if he hadn't come back things coulda gone a different way for you. Now get up!" Storm's voice slowly rose from a low anger to a shrill call.
"No. I'm not going."
"Yes you are." Storm said, her face composed into a firm look of resignation. "You are going to get up, get dressed and come with me right now."
"No I'm not. I don't want to go and you can't make me." Taylor sounded much like a spoiled, petulant child. "You can leave any time you want to." Taylor reached down, grabbed a hold of his blankets and pulled them back up over his head. Storm left the room. She went into his kitchen and ran the cold water. When the water was as cold as it was going to get she filled the biggest glass she could find with the icy liquid and stalked back into Taylor's room on quiet feet.
He had his back to her, sheets and blankets pulled back up around his head. She crossed to the side of his bed, never making a sound and quickly pulled the sheets and blankets off the bed again. Before he could do much more then look up at her she up ended the glass of water over Taylor, most of it hitting his head but some of it splashing down over his bare shoulder and running in rivulets down his chest and back, soaking his bed. As Storm set the glass down on his nightstand he jumped out of bed with an irate roar. She was too irate and sad to even find the sight of him soaked and indignant funny.
"Well, since you're up anyway you may as well get dressed and come with me."
"Who do you think you are?" Taylor growled as he stalked up to Storm with murder in his walk. She didn't retreat or look intimidated, merely stood her ground and watched his approach through reproachful green eyes.
"The sister of your best friend, the cousin of your dead friend." She looked up into Taylor's eyes and met his gaze. She could see the first two things she'd tossed at him hadn't changed his mind. "And the woman who needs you at her side to get through this thing. I thought what we had wasn't just a 'thing'. You told me that."
Taylor looked away, breaking their eye contact as he rubbed his bald head. "Jesus Storm. Do you know how much I don't want to go to this? Do you even comprehend at all how much I just don't want to go?"
"Do you comprehend how very much I don't want my cousin and friend to be dead? Taylor, I can't bring him back. I can't make Matty better again. Every time I'm in my club I'm gonna catch myself looking around, waiting on Chris to walk in but he never will again. He's gone and I can't bring him back." Storm looked up at Taylor and waited for him to meet her eyes again. He did, feeling her eyes on his face. "I really don't know if I can do this without you Taylor, and I have to do it. I have to be strong for dad, for Matty, for my aunt and uncle who lost their child, for everyone. And then I have to go do it all again tomorrow. Can't you please come and be strong for me while I'm being strong for everyone else? Please? I need you with me Taylor. There's no one else."
A tear ran down her cheek as Taylor watched her stand there. She'd laid her feelings bare to him and he knew how much it would have cost her. She didn't admit to needing help or needing anyone very often, but she'd just told him she needed him. He couldn't turn her down. He watched another tear roll down her cheek. He couldn't take any more of her tears. He'd watched men beg him for their lives, over and over again. It hadn't affected him one way or the other in any sense. He still killed them in the end, still beat them into the ground or shot them, whatever he had to do. So why, when all those men pleading with him did he feel nothing, but when this woman cried, two simple tears with no accompanying begging or pleading at all, did he want to give her whatever she wanted, what ever would make her stop crying.
He took her into his arms and wrapped them around her back as he felt her arms reach out and settle around his waist. He leaned his cheek on the top of the silky pile of her hair. He felt her shoulders shake as she fought not to give way to total hysterics. "I'll come Storm. I'm sorry. Of course I'll come 'Ella. Just please don't cry. I shoulda been there for you instead of hiding in here."
"I'm not crying." Storm said, her voice muffled into Taylor's chest.
"Of course you're not. Go wait in the other room and I'll get dressed. I don't know in what, but I'll get ready." Taylor released Storm and she turned away.
Storm a walked over to the dresser against Taylor's wall and picked out a light knit sweater. She set it on a dry part of his bed and went to his closet. She picked out a pair of black slacks and set them beside the sweater. "That'll be fine. I'll wait by the door for you." She turned away and left the room. A few minutes later Taylor joined her by the door. "You ready?" She asked.
"I guess so. So what happens now?"
"We go get Matty and my father, then we go to the ceremony."
"Ok then." Taylor opened the door and held his arm out for Storm to precede him out the open path. He followed her and locked the door. He paused in the hall and shrugged his leather jacket on, his still bandaged and stiff arm making the movement awkward. He followed Storm down the stairs and go into the shotgun seat of the Cadillac.
They drove silently back to the Demaret house and pulled up to the door. Taylor moved to get out of the car. "You can just wait here," Storm told him.
"I'll wait in the car but I'll ride in the back with Matty. Your dad can have the front."
"No way. You ride with me. Dad'll be just as happy in the back."
"It's only right that I let your father have the front Storm."
"Right doesn't matter to me today Taylor. I want you beside me so you ride in the front. I'll just go get them."
Taylor nodded his ok, against his better judgment and Storm moved to get out. Before she could get one leg out of the car the front door of the house opened and Benny and Matty walked out. Both were dressed in black suits with blue ties. "I'm very under dressed for this Storm."
"You're fine. Stop worrying. No one is going to notice what you're wearing Taylor."
Benny and Matty slid into the back seat. "I thought you weren't coming." Matty said to Taylor as he got into the car behind his sister.
"I wasn't going to but a higher power convinced me I should."
"Good. He'd want you there." Matty said as he sat back into the leather seat of the Cadillac and shoved his sunglasses onto his nose.
Taylor nodded.
"How are you Taylor? Is your shoulder bothering you?"
"No sir, Mr. Demaret. It's doing much better. I'm sorry for your loss." Taylor said to the Demaret sibling's father politely. No matter what he said about who he was, he knew his proper manners.
"Thank you son. I'm glad to know you were there with my son. I'm very grateful for what you did for him."
Matty unobtrusively hit his father in the thigh. He didn't want the old man reminding Storm of what Teddy had tried to do.
"He'd do the same for me sir." Taylor replied modestly.
Storm put the car in gear and drove down the driveway slowly. She pointed the black land yacht in the direction of the church where Chris was to be laid to rest. St. Dominic Cathedral was in the heart of Brooklyn. Where Chris and his parents had lived.
When they arrived they parked in the reserved parking lot with the other family vehicles and entered the church. Matty and Benny walked in first, followed by Storm and Taylor. Taylor solicitously held onto Storm's elbow, attempting to be a source of strength for her to call on if she had the need. She'd been hiding inside an icy calm shell since they'd left his apartment.
They followed Benny and Matty to the front of the church. "I should go sit at the back Storm. It isn't right for me to be up here with you."
"Taylor I told you, in this case you're family and it ain't cause a us bein' together neither. You've known Chris and Matty since you were all like what, eight?"
"Seven."
"There ya go. So you're gonna sit with me and look sad like the rest of us."
"Alright." Taylor gave in with a sigh.
They took seats in the pew just behind Sal and Eva Scarpa. Benny leaned over to pat his cousin on the shoulder. While his kids called them aunt and uncle they weren't really that closely related by blood, just by relationships. Sal and Eva both stood up, turning to face the Demaret family. They took in the shattered look on Matty's face and promptly hugged him in turn. Matty returned the gesture tightly.
When they moved on to look at Storm and took in the detached look of calm they shared a worried glance with each other. The way they knew their niece she should be spitting, cussing and clawing with anger. Not composed and looking like she was totally bereft of emotion. Eva quickly hugged her niece. "How you holding up Stormianna?"
"As well as can be expected Eva. What about you? Are you ok?"
"About as well as can be expected." She echoed Storm's statement with a tight smile. "I miss him so much already."
"Me too." Storm admitted. Taylor moved to stand just a bit closer to her.
Eva turned to Taylor. "I'm glad you came. Chris would have wanted you here."
"We'll all miss him very much Ma'am." Taylor offered. "I'm sorry for your loss. I wish there was more I coulda done but you should know that Chris was a hero. If not for him me'n Matty might not be here."
"I'm glad to know that if he had to die it was for a good reason, protecting his cousin and friends." Sal broke into the conversation. "Still can't say I wouldn't willingly buy every pretty girl in Brooklyn a free dinner just to have my son back." He took a moment to compose himself before looking back up at his relatives.
"I want you to know Sal, that if there is anything, and I mean anything we can do for you and your family you only have to ask." Benny broke in. "The family is here for you." It was clear Benny meant more than the Demaret clan, but rather the whole 'family' of the mafia. He pressed an envelope of money into Sal's hand.
It was a tradition when a made man died for the other family members to give money. Even though Chris hadn't been made, his father was a wiseguy, even if he couldn't actively be known as one. The family would still take care of its own.
"Thank you Benny. I want you to know how sorry I was to hear about Teddy."
"Well, thanks. His loss will be felt by the family for some time to come." Benny admitted. The loss of his advisor and trusted friend wasn't something he would recover from overnight.
"Too bad he was a god damn traitor." Storm bit out.
Before her father could open his mouth to berate her Taylor leaned over, pulling her against him with an arm around her waist. "This isn't the place Storm." She shot him a death glare but fell silent. Benny looked on with interest but refrained from comment. They all sat down to await the start of the ceremony.
Storm fought the need to pick at her fingernails as she sat on the hard wooden pew with Taylor's thigh pressed against the side of her own. It figured they all would have been born catholic, she thought cynically. Her cousin was dead already. The last thing he would have wanted was a long, boring service. She almost got up and told them all so, but then the priest called for Matty, or Mathew as they called him in an attempt to be formal, to come forward to deliver the eulogy. Matty got up and buttoned his suit jacket nervously.
He started for the front of the church slowly. It was clear to Storm, who knew him so well, that he was fighting a loosing battle against crying. It worried her in some respects that she didn't feel much at all other than as small measure of sympathy for Matty and his predicament and lingering anger over Teddy and what he'd done. She was almost bored, truth told. Thus the urge to pick at her nails. She started to do so, unable to help herself in her lassitude.
When Taylor noticed what she was doing he nudged her with his knee. She looked up with an irate frown. He made a wide eyed look at her hands. She sat on them with a sigh and watched as her brother finally took the podium.
"I'd like to thank you all for coming." Matty began before clearing his throat. "We're here today, as the good father already pointed out to celebrate the final sacrament in the life of my cousin Christopher Scarpa. I said I'd say a few words about my cousin today in his memory." Matty coughed self consciously again and fidgeted with his tie, fighting his loosing battle against breaking down.
"Chris wasn't only my cousin, he was one of my best friends. We played together as kids and hung out together as teens. I guess it's debatable whether or not we ever became adults. I'm sure my sister would tell you the answer was no, seeing as how Chris never could leave her alone for any length of time. It's a good thing she had a soft spot for him I guess." Everyone chuckled softly, many of the people present being family and well aware of Storm's temper. "Thing is now Chris'll never get a chance to see if he ever would have grown up." With those words Matty lost his composure and began to cry.
Taylor looked at his friend helplessly, unsure what to do. Benny hung his head, unable to see his son in so much distress.
Storm seemed to be the only one not frozen to her seat. When it became clear Matty wasn't going to recover from his breakdown she got up out of her seat and started for the alter of the church. When she reached Matty's side she gently sent him back to his seat. He went with a hug followed by a grateful look. Storm stood behind the podium provided and looked out at all the faces filling the pews of the church.
"Wow, I can't think of any time I saw St. Dominic's this full." Storm started. "I'm saddened by the reason why, and I'm sure the good father is too. Chris, who is likely trying not to come back and haunt my brother for admitting his full name is, in fact Christopher, would be glad to know he had so many friends." Storm took a moment to look down at the oak surface of the podium, wishing she'd anticipated Matty's breakdown and taken a few moments to prepare something to say.
"I know one thing for a fact, as anyone could see by looking around this church, the ladies of New York lost a favourite when they lost my cousin. Chris was always a ladies man, but they loved him so nobody could ever even hold the fact he was a player against him.
"He knew how to have a good time. He was always in a good mood and he tried to keep a realistic outlook in every situation without falling in for the doom and gloom mentality so many people fall into in this day and age. He was always trying to convince me to forget we were related, only distantly as he was always reminding me even though he knew full well his mom and dad were my aunt and uncle no matter if blood made us that way or not, and go someplace with him on a real date. But that was just how Chris was. I'm sure many of the beautiful faces filling this church could join me in attesting to that.
"We always made quite a crew as kids I'm sure. The four boys doing boy things and Matty's tomboy sister tagging along to do them too. The tomboy is me, for those of you not initiated into the Demaret, Scarpa connection. But we were always there for each other and that went double for Chris. He'd stand up for any of his friends and in the end that is what got him killed. But he died as a hero, defending his friends. I've heard some shi-" She paused, remembering where she was. "Stuff, rumours about how Chris died. It's all just that, rumours. He died as he lived, standing up for his friends, namely my brother, his cousin. Anyone who says different'll have me to answer to.
"Not that Chris would even appreciate that. He never wanted a violent lifestyle for himself. He was a lover, not a fighter." Storm smiled, unable to help herself. "And crazy, and sometimes foolish in that playful way. I know I'll miss him, just like I know Matty will too. Not to mention Uncle Sal, who I know would gladly buy every last pretty girl in Brooklyn dinner just to watch Chris grin while he tried to charm his way out of it again. But in the end he'd likely manage to charm his way right back into his father's good graces anyway because the boy could be so slick when he wanted to be I swear he could sell ice to Eskimos. In fact the last time I ever saw Chris he was trying to con me into going someplace I didn't want to go with him. I was tired and I didn't go but he had me almost convinced. Mighta managed too, if I didn't think the boys needed some time on their own to just be boys. That was just how my cousin was. You hated to say no to him, hated to do anything to take the smile off his face.
"A lot of yous know that me'n my brother didn't have it so easy as kids." Storm didn't come right out and say 'what with our pops in jail and all' but almost everyone knew it was what she was getting at. "But our family took carea us, and that included the Scarpas. I heard a song in the car today that I never heard before and it made me think about what Chris would say to me if he knew he was gonna die and had that one chance to gimme a message before it happened. It was just uncanny how like something Chris would say it sounded. It went something like 'in every life first the sun then the night falls. We're all on borrowed time, never say good-bye. Take your time live your life like its last call. Don't wanna see you cry cause we'll never say good-bye.' So I won't cry because Chris wouldn't want me to. He'd want me to carry on, party twice as hard, have twice as much fun, and live for him.
"After every night a new sun rises, sometimes it's behind the clouds. For the next while the sun of this family will be hidden but I'm going to live my life like its last call because this has shown me that someday, for the horrible sin of defending your friends it could be. But to Chris I don't say good-bye, I say Quandu si las 'a vecchia p'a nova, sabe che lasa ma non sabe che trova."
Storm saw her aunt Eva begin to cry in earnest when the Italian proverb flowed off her tongue gracefully like water over a fall. She saw that many were confused by her words spoken in an unfamiliar tongue. Even Matty had never been as proficient as she with any words said in their native tongue which didn't translate into words to make good girls blush.
"And that means 'when you leave the old for the new, you know what you are leaving but not what you will find'. I know this is just another adventure for Chris, sad for us to have lost him, sad for him to see us mourning his loss, but yet a beginning for him too. After all, Meglio un giorno da leone che cento da pecora."
With that Storm left the podium. When she went to pass the pew her aunt and uncle were sitting in her aunt stood at the end and hugged her, tears marking her silent grief. "Grazi, Storm, grazi."
Storm finally took her seat beside the silent Taylor again and sighed. Taylor looked down at the top of her head.
"What was that last thing you said?" He asked, unable to control his curiosity.
"An old proverb. It means, it is better to live one day as a lion than a hundred as a sheep."
"Thanks sis." Matty leaned over and put an arm around his sister's shoulders.
"I wish I didn't have to do it." Storm answered.
"We all wish he was still alive sis."
"I know."
They sat silently through the rest of the ceremony then moved outside the church. Taylor stayed awkwardly at Storm's side, despite being in a circle of her family and her father's friends and associates. It was unnerving but he stuck it out.
"I'm proud of you kid." Benny said as he walked up to his daughter. "I know it meant a lot to Eva and Sal that someone said so many nice things for Chris."
"He was one of my best friends. I meant every word."
"I know." Benny held up his hands to show he wasn't looking for a fight. "It was just that you handled it, yourself, really well. I was proud of how well you handled it is all."
"Thanks dad."
They broke up then to follow the hearse to the gravesite to put Chris into his final resting spot. As they stood beside the grave, the day still as slate grey as when they'd started the ordeal, Taylor leaned over to whisper to Storm. "You doin' ok?"
"I'ma be ok." Storm answered in hushed tones.
The way she never lost the stone faced calm demeanour was starting to worry Taylor. She was so different since everything had gone down. It only remained to be seen if she ever came back around.