Young Offender, Part 47:
"Are you okay?" Albert asked Jet. His brandy colored eyes shifted from the closed apartment door to Albert.
"Yeah, it's just that I've changed a lot. I wonder if they have," Jet said barely above a whisper.
"Let's find out."
Jet knocked at the door and waited a few moments as the latch was undone. His mother's face went from irritation to shock.
"Gianni? It's you? You're back?" she mumbled, but then wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug. "Where in the world have you been? It's been over two years! Do you know how much I worried? And then I found out from Frank you were here, but you didn't come home." Her eyes drifted over to Albert and then back to Jet. "Who is this?"
"This is my friend, Albert Heinrich. He's in town for a little while. Al, this is my ma, Antonia Licursi," Jet introduced.
She gave Albert a long, wary look before wiping her hands on her apron and extending one, thin hand. Albert gently took her hand and shook it briefly, always concerned someone would figured out what was in his leather glove.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Licursi," Albert said. She was obviously baffled. It must be his accent that was puzzling her.
"Why don't you come in... Mr Heinrich, is it?"
"Thank you." They entered the small, rundown apartment.
"So is Pop still at work?" Jet asked, his eyes darted around nervously.
"Yes, he'll be home soon. Have a seat," she said, waving at a threadbare sofa. "Would you like some coffee, Mr Heinrich?"
"Yes, thank you," Albert said, sitting down on the sofa beside Jet. She bustled around in the kitchen for a while and came back with three mugs. She set them on the coffee table and sat on a chair across from them.
"Where have you been all this time, Gianni?"
"Germany, France, Italy, Japan, Australia..."
"Stop fibbing and tell the truth for once in your life," she snapped.
With aplomb, Jet shrugged and said, "Wish I was."
"Well, what have you been doing? Frank said you had some business with him."
"Frank! Should've know he'd squeal. We didn't do anything really wrong, considering what we've been through. Listen, Ma, something happened to me over two years ago. I can't really give you details, but it was awful. It's real living nightmare I can't ever wake up from."
"What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into? More stealing? Gangs? We've been through it all with you before," she said in ill-concealed bitterness. "Don't tell me you've finally sunk so low as selling drugs."
"I didn't choose the situation I'm in now, but I'm trying to do some good. I've got friends and we're all doing some good as we travel."
"Like a girl? Frank told me you had a girl with you last time. You didn't get some girl in trouble, did you?"
Jet face blazed bright red. "Ma, Francoise is a nice girl! She's not loose, and she's not my girlfriend. Will you just listen?! I have a new life and friends, none of which I picked. I've traveled and learned so many things. I just wanted to come back and see how you guys were doing. I needed to know you and Pop were okay."
"We would have been doing better if you weren't a runaway! Your father lost a promotion thanks to you. How could you do that to him?"
Albert glanced over to Jet, his fury was visible. Jet glanced down to his clenched fists in his lap; Albert reached out and gripped Jet's wrist. "It wasn't Jet's fault, Mrs Licursi. There were four of us that were taken. We're still being pursued by our kidnappers."
She turned her ire filled eyes on Albert, and it struck him that she was actually drunk. The smell from her coffee confirmed his suspicion. "I don't know who you are or what you're doing hanging around my son."
"Jet certainly has his faults, I've gotten to know that over the past two years, but I can tell you he's changed into an upstanding young man. He's telling the absolute truth," Albert vouched for Jet, not removing his hand from around the younger man's wrist.
Her bloodshot eyes snapped back to Jet giving him a disgusted look. "So what are you doing with my son? What do you do for a living, Mr Heinrich?"
"I'm not encouraging him to do anything illegal. Our group is together for protection. We've been keeping on the move and we take odd jobs. I was just a truck driver before all this happened." Jet was amazed at Albert dip into lying. The German man usally never did that.
"What kind of accent do you have?"
Albert let go of Jet's wrist and clenched his own gloved hands together. "I'm German."
Her sour look deepened. She turned back to Jet. "Your uncle died on D-Day and..."
"I know! And Albert was a kid when that happened. His folks got killed by Americans, but he doesn't dwell on that. It's 1963 for crying out loud!"
"You keep that tone down," she warned, sipping her coffee. Jet crossed his arms and slumped on the sofa. "So what do you want, Gianni? Money? You know we don't have any."
"Well if Pop wouldn't piss it all away on cards and horses..."
"Why is it you have to ruin everything? You can't even keep your fresh mouth straight for five minutes," she said after swigging more on her coffee.
"I don't want anything from either of you. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I told you the truth about being kidnapped. There are still some dangerous people out there looking for me and my friends."
She opened her mouth, but the front door opened at the same time, pausing her recriminations. A man that Jet strongly resembled entered. Albert took note of the police uniform. He had a hard time believing Jet's father was a policeman, but it would explain a lot about Jet's rebellious streak.
Jet hopped off the sofa at the same time his father's eyes widened in surprise. "Gianni? What are you doing here?"
"Pop, I came to see how you and Ma were doing," he said meekly, testing the waters.
"You showed up? Here? After all this time?" the man bellowed, fling his hand around the apartment.
"It's a very long story. I just came to check in on you guys and run an errand." Albert noted Jet's voice, which wasn't totally healed, was starting to strain.
"After breaking your Ma's heart and trashing my career you have the balls to show your mug here?"
"I ain't staying long. I was just making sure you guys were okay," Jet insisted, his skin getting hotter and hotter.
The man looked over to Albert and fixed him with a glare. "Who the fuck is this?"
"A friend of mine."
"Bah! You ain't got no friends, just a bunch of thugs you hang around with, embarrassing me."
Albert felt a sharp sting, not for the insult hurled at him, but for the mistrust hurled at Jet. Albert no longer wondered why Jet could never accept a compliment gracefully and underestimated himself from time to time. Albert felt an overwhelming urge to come to Jet's defense, but these were Jet's parents. Albert knew Jet had to deal with them himself or never have a chance at peace with them.
"I do have friends and a life, finally! No thanks to you!" Jet spat out, clenching his fists harder, eyes watering. Quickly and unexpectedly, Jet's father lunged and raised a fist. Albert didn't have to get in the way before Jet slid to the side, grabbed his father's fist, and swirled the man around, twisting his arm behind his back.
Jet's mother screamed hysterically and shouted, "Take your hands off him!"
"I ain't your punching bag any more, old man!" Jet spat out before shoving his father away. The policeman looked up at Jet with shock and contempt.
"Get out! Never come back, you little bastard!"
Albert chased after Jet's hasty retreat from the apartment. "Jet! Wait!" He ran from the building and down a side alley. Albert ducked in behind him. He saw Jet pounding his fists against the brick. He grabbed Jet's wrists. "Jet! Stop it!"
Instead of bucking against Albert, the tension drained from the younger man and he slumped into Albert's arms. He wrapped his arms tighter around Jet and let him steady his breath; Albert was fighting to get his own anger under check.
"...and he hurt my husband! You've got to get here," Antonia shouted, started at the blurry numbers on the business card.
"We'll be there in five minutes?" the voice on the other end of the phone said. She hung up the phone. Guy had retreated to the kitchen for a beer to nurse his wounded pride. He still didn't know about the men looking for Jet. It was her fervent wish these men would take Jet into custody and let him experience consequences. Then Jet could come back with humbleness and respect.
Jet pulled away slightly from Albert, ashamed he had cried on the man's shoulder for the last several minutes. "Let me go," he said now hoarse. Albert's arms slowly lowered. "I need to go say one more thing to them."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, my conscience won't be clear if I don't tell them to watch out for Black Ghost agents. Once I do that, I'm done with that, they're dead to me."
"Okay." Albert stepped aside to let Jet get his closure.
Albert followed him back into the building and to the floor where the New Yorker was raised. Jet was a little surprised to see the door cracked open. He shoved the door and marched in.
"Hey, Ma, I want..." The words died on Jet's lips when he saw his mother and father laying in the middle of the living room floor. His mother's blouse was bloodied and his father was missing the left side of his face.
"Caught you, 002!"
Jet turned in time to see a man in a black suit spring from the kitchen and loft a gun. Albert shoved Jet to the ground and aimed his right hand at the agent, killing the man dead in seconds. He yanked Jet back to his feet.
"You two aren't going anywhere!" They turned to see another agent in the doorway. Albert heard the high pitched, metallic whine. Everything slowed as Jet tugged him towards the one window. Glass broke apart as Jet crashed through first, not one sound hit Albert's ears.
They dropped back into real time on the fire escape. Jet linked his arm with Albert's and leaped upwards, rockets full blast. Albert looked down to see the agent now hanging out of the window, uselessly firing his gun at them. The building shrunk away in the distance.
It wasn't long before Jet landed on the roof of a building and let Albert go. Jet leaned over and put his hands on his knees. His numb mind couldn't process anything.
"Come on. Let's lay low," Albert said, laying a heavy hand on Jet's shoulder.
"I should have stayed. I shouldn't have left them alone. This is all my fucking fault! I'm nothing but a piece of shit for ever wishing them dead!"
"No. Don't continue thinking this was your fault," Albert said, tugging Jet towards the door for the roof access.
To be continued.