...and he doesn't know what to do with himself. He lives his life riding the wind and going where it takes him, for better or for worse. Mista doesn't want to chose where the storms take him. You're supposed to close your eyes, hope for the best, and see what happens.
So that's what he does. Ride the wind. He buys a motorcycle, keeps driving until he runs out of road, and then he books a flight as far as possible.
He could try to take over the gang. He could try. He doesn't.
"Now what I wanna know is how the hell an Italian kid like you winds up slinging bullets in Nevada," his partner in crime asks one day.
They're on a stakeout but they don't expect to see their mark for awhile yet. He's been taking bounties with the old cowboy for some years: some legal, most not. He's not a good man and he's not a smart man, but hell, neither is Mista. They work well enough together and they get paid enough to support Mista's lifestyle of drifting from town to town, so he can't complain.
"Don't you got people?"
Mista closes his eyes, fishes out a cigarette, lights it, exhales smoke. He knows it's not good for him but he already knows how he's going to end up. The bullets are going to catch up to him before the tobacco does.
"I don't know, Hol Horse," he says through gritted teeth. "Maybe you can tell me how the hell an old Texan man gets shot in the head doing merc work and decides to still do it anyway."
"Hey, fair enough, fair enough."
He cracks the window open just enough to vent the smoke out of the van.
"I'm gonna die doing this shit, Mista," the cowboy says, voice low. Mista concentrates on the building, watches for his target, does not meet his gaze.
"I'm too old to learn anything else. I'm tired. That's why. Thing is, you don't think you are but you're a kid. You're too damn young to give up on yourself like this."
"I don't have people anymore," he says and why won't he just shut up, he's not his father, he's just a shitty old man that doesn't know how to leave well enough alone.
"I did, they died."
"Be your own people, then."
And Mista rides the wind.