17. Alphaville - Forever Young
The silence in the car wasn't awkward, if only barely, but it wasn't exactly pleasant either. Sitting in the back, dressed in the finest attire possible courtesy of Tomasso, literally dressed to impress, with my cousin Peppe next to me and Bobby at the wheel I took the moment to appreciate the view as we crossed the Robert Kane Memorial Bridge on our way to Bristol.
Maybe it was the fact that we were crossing a bridge or heading towards the outskirts of Gotham City, but suddenly I had to ask what had been burning under my skin for months now.
"What keeps you here?" I asked quietly, turning from the window to give my relative the proper attention.
"An ax crazy clown, a walking popsicle, the puppet of a ventriloquist leading a gang and a 'Batman' leaving criminals cowering." I went on, leaving no doubt to what I was referring to.
Peppe eyed me for a moment before he looked straight ahead, I honestly didn't know what he was thinking right now given his short and unreadable gaze.
"My grandfather came here, and my father made us." He told me quietly, before falling silent, maybe reminiscing about his youth, I reckoned.
Suddenly he sat straighter in his seat and a small but noticeable scowl appeared on his face, not vicious but fierce, in my opinion.
"I won't be the generation where we go to ruin. I won't run with my tail between my legs." He finally answered my question, which unsurprisingly didn't resonate with me at all.
Maybe Peppe was way more prideful than he let on, or I simply lacked in that particular department, but in just the short time I had been doing this my pride or 'passion for the cause' or whatever it initially was just couldn't outweigh the sheer disgust at what I did and saw or the plain tiredness of seeing it all being for nothing in the grand scheme of things.
If 'we' just cashed in on all our assets and found a nice and quiet place to start over again with the money we had and would make life would be almost rosy, but no, we had to stay put in a burning room like a fucking meme.
At times it really felt like pissing into the wind.
While the piss was full of blood…
while suffering a bladder infection.
It was unpleasant, to say the least.
I frowned at Peppe, my impression of my older relatives, Tomasso, Peppe and Claudio, getting more and more cemented in recent weeks.
Old men, that had gotten used to a level of comfort and power, suddenly confronted with the very real possibility of losing it. Despite their tough appearances, I got the distinct impression that they hadn't gotten their hands dirty for too long. Why else would they be so quick to fight to the bitter end, why else would they task young men with increasingly dangerous duties?
Why else would three of the Five Families come together to celebrate the holidays for a single evening in one of the most expensive clubhouses in one of the fanciest parts of Gotham City?
I frowned at the thought of the spectacle ahead of me.
It was to be a show of force and unity by the Berettis, Inzerillos, and us towards the Cassamentos and Galantes given that their interactions recently were considered to be a little too cozy by some.
Funnily enough, it was also a show of force by Tomasso towards the two other families tonight, which was the reason for my whole get-up.
I was to be paraded as the distant future of the Panessas. Distant being the important distinction here, as we didn't want to give the impression that Tomasso was in any shape or form unfit to lead us.
If they only knew that I was one bad day away from fucking right off.
Talking…so much talking. The occasional handshakes and friendly pats on the shoulder were generously dispersed in between, but this only highlighted just how much these people talked.
And everything was just so incredibly…empty.
Grand plans, calls for perseverance, and reminiscing about the good old days were at the forefront of these small talks, which were occasionally spiced up with healthy doses of bitter disappointment about the youth, because obviously, they had grown soft and pampered unlike them.
Some of the cruder attendees loudly proclaimed their bafflement and ridicule for some of the more colorful characters in the city, which had an interesting effect on some of the men in charge. Their stances suddenly becoming more rigid and their smiles just a bit too strained.
Which led me to an amusing suspicion.
Some of these proud and boastful old men wanted to use this evening as a chance to flee the city and its craziness, their worries and fears, at least for this one night without losing face.
This suspicion only grew when some men reached their second or third glass of wine of this still young evening and hints of helplessness and resignment sneaked in.
If I had been a psychologist or at least someone who wasn't talking out of his ass I could probably come to some very intriguing and important conclusions, but, alas, my primary focus was on the upcoming dinner, because I was borderline intend to gorge myself on some very expensive food.
Horror thoughts about tiny gourmet food servings were put on hold when I noticed Tomasso suddenly perk up and abort his mingling just to steer me towards the entrance of the ballroom, where a man and an absolutely beautiful young lady just entered.
"Salvatore, nephew," Tomasso exclaimed uncharacteristically happy. "You made it."
"Uncle Tomasso, it's good to see you again." The man said equally elated upon spotting the approaching Tomasso and subsequently engulfed him in a genuine hug.
"I heard about the flight delay," My cousin began to say, but this Salvatore good-naturedly cut him off with a wave of a hand as if to say water under the bridge. Perking up he stepped behind his female companion and gently put his hands on her shoulders.
"I want you to meet Helena, Maria's little girl." He introduced her, clearly proud.
"Helena meet my favorite uncle, Tomasso." He continued cheerfully and with a wink, which tickled a chuckle out of Tomasso.
"È un piacere incontrarti." (It's a pleasure to meet you.) She said demurely with a hint of a curtsy. I guess with my rather unique perspective it was interesting to see how she managed to conceal the fact that her smile in fact wasn't even close to reaching her eyes.
Subtle glances towards my male family members told me, that they either decided to ignore it or, in line with the whole evening so far, only saw what they wanted to see.
"You have grown since I last saw you as a little girl." He observed. "You look like your mother." He finished a tad quieter, fondness for the deceased obvious.
"Talking about children." He said, and put a heavy hand on my shoulder, bringing the gazes of Salvatore and Helena to me. "This is Claudia's boy, William, he will be a pillar of our family in this city." He stated matter-of-factly. "He is already a true Panessa" He went on and I detected a hint of pride. Upon that little revelation, I saw Salvatore suddenly stand straighter and visibly eye me in a new light, which I took in stride with the same neutral expression I had for the entire conversation. What gave me pause internally at least, however, was the minute but unmistakable frown that crossed Helena's feature for a split second, which did nothing to hide her disgust.
I guess I was just put into the same category as all the other men in this room and I didn't like that thought, no matter how much ugly truth the notion carried with it.
Maybe it was the resemblance to Claudia, but that short gaze of disgust and disapproval that crossed her features was enough to make me feel dirty, no matter how little her opinion mattered in the grand scheme of things or how quickly I managed to shove my thoughts into the back of my mind.
This little moment felt like another nail in the coffin for my already frail commitment.
Remembering my manners, I finally dipped my head in deference towards Salvatore.
Dinner had been…alright, thankfully.
With my seat between Claudio and Peppe I had been able to enjoy the food in silence and was luckily kept uninvolved in the conversation that had surrounded me. The few times I had noticed Helena's gaze flicker towards me I had been able to remain stoic. The talking around me had eventually faded to a muted background noise, which had kept my irritation at the hollow words at a bearable level.
Now back in the ballroom, it was apparently time for some honest deal-making among the three families, which looked and sounded like a joke to me.
The old generation, the men with real power, kept constantly jumping the line between real ambition and blatant wish fulfillment, while the younger men, the men that wanted that power, boasted about their intentions and what they would do to right this ship.
That everything revolved around criminal acts in some shape or form left a sour taste in my mouth, because while I was certain that most of these young guns sprouted shit just to belong, there were some individuals here I knew of, that would most definitely not hesitate 'to do what it takes'.
Shaking my head, I spotted Helena stand a noticeable distance away from the chatting crowd at a window, her gaze fixated on the pitch-black darkness of the night outside.
Steeling myself, intent to let the bridge to the only person in the room with a clear moral compass not burn down completely I discreetly grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses from a nearby table and made my way to her.
Getting closer I saw her 'unfavorable' stare in the reflection of the window. Obviously having noticed me approaching her eyes remained firmly on me, which I ignored in favor of putting my ill-gotten goods on the windowsill and hiding them from the mingling crowd with my body.
She kept quiet and her gaze on the outside while I calmly poured two small amounts of wine into the glasses.
"Here," I said and gently pushed her glass across the sill towards her, while I grabbed mine. "I have noticed that underage drinking tends to make this whole shit show somewhat bearable, at least in my experiences so far." I offered an explanation, which I layered with some awkward and resigned humor.
A raised eyebrow was my answer, while her wine glass remained untouched, which made me carry on.
"It also helps with keeping a nice warm lid on barely disguised anger," Her gaze became eerily flat to which I raised my glass in her direction. "Yeah, that one." I said lightly and this time the humor in my voice came easier.
Said humor, quickly sobered however when I remembered her circumstances.
"I…," I began and put my glass back down on the sill at least for this moment. "I am sorry for your loss." I fully faced her and matched her now open scowl with a resigned expression.
"For what it's worth," I nodded towards the crowd, but my eyes remained on hers. "They are on borrowed time and deep down they know it."
"How would you know that?" She eventually asked, anger thankfully now taking a back seat in favor of suspicion.
I drained my glass in one go and calmly poured myself a second one, taking the moments to formulate a proper response.
"The Cosa Nostra, the five families, they…" I paused for a second and sighed. "we are at the end of the day a criminal organization. We need structure, order, and certain rules to do our business and flourish." I paused and took a small sip, which to my relief Helena mirrored.
"In this city, however, things have been changing. Rules and structures you could previously build your business on are now bend or outright broken by individuals, that are unreasonable and unpredictable to them." I said with another nod towards the center of the room.
"They can't keep up, natural selection at work, I guess." I finished with a shrug and we both turned our gazes out of the window. Sipping on my glass I glanced occasionally at her reflection but didn't even try to guess what went on behind her thoughtful expression. The silence now marginally less awkward to my delight.
A shot suddenly echoed seemingly through the entire building; more shots quickly followed. On autopilot, I reflexively dropped my glass and pushed Helena down and away from the window. My grip unyielding, I held her down in a crouch and frantically looked her over.
"I'm fine." She gritted out, trying fruitlessly to get up. Relieved, but still holding her down, I turned my gaze towards the room and saw that everybody was in a similar position. Panicked shouts rising in volume when suddenly a door burst open, and an unfamiliar guard stumbled it.
Metallica - Enter Sandman
"The Bat! He's here!" He frantically shouted towards the crowd, probably hoping to spot his boss, as more and more shots rang now even louder through the opened doors.
The room exploded with noise as men and women rushed for the doors.
Suddenly I caught Tomasso's gaze.
"William," He shouted in his mafia boss voice, which instantly filled me with dread. "Get to work!"
'Fuuuuuuuuck!' I groaned mentally in despair but outwardly gave a firm nod.
I swallowed and reached quickly but resignedly into the inside pocket of my jacket, retrieving my dark green balaclava.
Feeling Helena's wide-eyed and questioning gaze on me I couldn't quite hide my scowl from her.
Having tried and failed at a smile, it was a spur of the moment decision as I suddenly remembered the snow and the freezing cold outside that made me take of my jacket and throw it over her shoulders only clad in an expensive but flimsy dress.
"What are…" She began, but I cut her off by standing up.
"It was nice to meet you." I said firmly and meant it. I turned, ignored Salvatore who rushed towards Helena and made my way towards the door where the mook had burst in.
I wasn't even halfway through the ball room when the power went out and plunged everything into darkness.
I Ignored the shouting people blindly stumbling towards the front door and the parked cars as I put on my mask and made my way up the staircase and towards the floor where I last heard shots…and frantic screams.
Shots, screams and silence, assaulted me in varying intervals. It honestly made me entertain the idea of playing possum in an out of the way corner and just wait for this storm to blow over.
Which, to my utter dismay, was incidentally the exact moment I reached the top of this particular flight of stairs and saw him in the middle of the dark hallway.
Hints of moonlight through a row of big windows and silence. And Him. Him walking in my direction.
Every conscious thought blew out of my mind in an instant except for one.
'I'm a fucking masochist!'
My lizard brain should tell me right about fucking now, that I actually had nothing to fear, but goddammit.
'Stop walking towards me!'
"Listen, man, Batman." I chuckled nervously but felt myself shift into my judo stance to my own bewilderment.
"I just managed to break the ice with a girl, that is so far out of my league it isn't even funny." 'WHAT?! She's your fucking cousin you dolt!'
"So would you please leave the same way you came in." 'Or just please knock me out already so I stop talking.'
I felt my knife rest heavily in my pocket, but I just knew, that reaching for it would doom whatever chances I had to come out of this with relatively minor bodily harm… hopefully?
My stance became lower, I didn't know what I was thinking, standing here and confronting that towering figure, that still kept striding towards me.
I opened my mouth, obviously to say something incredibly witty, when suddenly, for a split second at most, all I saw was black fabric and felt a pull on my right arm.
I barely registered the air punched out of my lungs by the impact of my back hitting the floor. I was sure it was only a handful of heartbeats, but I kept starring at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity.
'Batman just used a shoulder throw on me!' I was part stunned, terrified and elated.
Speaking of the guy, still lying on the floor I gazed 'upwards' and watched him step on the banister of the main staircase without breaking a single stride…then he was gone…and the shouts resumed.
My gaze was back on the ceiling.
'Let's just stay on the floor for a few minutes more.'