With dishes finished Charlie stepped outside onto the deck to let Angel know they were ready to listen to him. Only to find the Porn Star had seemingly vanished into thin air. He couldn't have come back into the cabin since they would have seen that. She was about to go inside when she noticed he was down stairs seated at the fire circle. He was wearing a gray woven cardigan that he hadn't been wearing before so he must have gone inside to grab it while the three girls were conversing. The demonic princess again wondered if Cherri and Vaggie should be informed, but she got the impression there was something Angel needed from her specifically. Walking down the back stairs to the ground level she started to approach the fire circle apprehensively. Angel staring introspectively towards the lake. She was little more than halfway towards him when he appeared to notice her. He regarded her in a manner that was similar to the way he had when he had agreed to join the hotel. The moment he had gotten out of the car when she shook hand hand before they parted ways. He seemed apprehensive as though being aware things would change, but not certain as to what would come from those changes.
Standing up Angel then moved away and started walking down towards the lake. He paused briefly and looked back at her for a moment, causing Charlie to realize he wanted her to follow. Again Charlie debated about whether she should inform Vaggie and Cherri about where she was going. Still, she knew this place very well and there were guard patrols so there really wasn't anything to be worried about. Still she did maintain a level of caution as she followed after him. She found him waiting for her again at the lake's edge. His attention focused towards the moon-like orb of Heaven. This is what he had been doing the first time she had laid on him. Most demons really didn't take notice of the celestial world unless it was the day of the cleanse as they watched as the dark forms of the exterminators descended from it. With Angel his attention was often drawn to the white haloed world that hovered in the red sky above. Charlie remained silent when she approached where Angel chose to stop. Part of her wondered if she should text Vaggie and let her know where she was, but instead she opted to mute all text notifications until she was sure what Angel wanted in all this. There was silence between the two demons for a moment before Angel finally spoke up.
"What has Cherri actually said," Angel asked?
"About you…" Charlie clarified. "Bits and pieces really, such as you used drugs to deal with everything being done to you, how she first met you, that you would call out for someone by the name of Molly sometimes, that you have lived on the street and various other places around the city, and how Valentino would visit you at your old apartment." Angel didn't respond, but the way he had his arms crossed over his chest did suggest he was uncomfortable with the situation.
"If you aren't ready," Charlie suggested. "You don't need to feel like you have to say anything."
"You and Vag's are returnin' to the Hotel in a few days," Angel pointed out. "It don't matter if I'm not ready."
"That's true," Charlie said. "But, I don't want you to feel like you have to say anything about your past. What matters is who you are now."
"Actually…it does," Angel responded. "If you're gonna be tryin' to heal sinners…you are goin' to need to hear about what sort of people they were and how they wound up here. Even if it's really screwed up shit."
"I can…" Charlie asserted. "I can handle more than you think. After all, Hell is full of shitty people, but not all the people here are evil. They just made choices that lead to them being here, such as how you said you were part of the Mafia."
"Nah sistah," Angel gave an amused smirk at Charlie's response. "I never said I was part of the Mafia, I only said that I was connected to an organized crime family and that was the world I was raised in."
"But what about," Charlie started to point out. "Don't you have an oath…where you can't really talk about your family."
"I do," Angel said. "But ya came to the conclusion that I'm a Made Guy on your own, not because I told ya. Even if it was just a familial connection and I was aware that there was some shady dealings going on. I would still be told to keep quiet about what I did know."
"What about during dinner," Charlie asked, starting to feel confused. "You said that 'people don't join the Mafia with the intention of being saints.'"
"And they don't," Angel said. "You don't have to be in "The Life' to meet Mobsters. These were guys I would have met and grown up around in New York. There were a number who were actually good guys to know. Many of the guys I knew were just doing what they could to earn a liven' in a world that was already trained to look down on 'em."
"So you weren't in the Mafia," Charlie asked?
"Actually, I was," Angel said. "Like I said, Sweet Cheeks. You came to that realization on your own."
"I'm confused," Charlie said as she sat down on a rock and tried to puzzle together what Angel had told her. "You are saying you were raised in a crime family, and you are part of this family…but you were just saying you weren't part of it, and now you are saying you actually were."
"You brought up Omerta," Angel said. "Wouldn't just informin you that I was a made guy when I was alive, count as me breakin my oath?"
"I guess so," Charlie agreed thoughtfully.
"It's a different story if yah figure out things on your own," Angel coyly said. "As I said. I never specifically said anything about being a mafiosi, that was your conclusion. Though I wouldn't go announcein' that since that could still cause a lot of issues."
"Consider it a secret," Charlie confirmed. "No one outside the hotel will know."
"Glad we got that out of the way," Angel said. "I don't like to admit I served in "the life", but that was the expectation Fratello and I were expected to follow. If we had more of a choice, things probably would have been different."
"Meaning," Charlie asked?
"What I'm gettin at," Angel said as he crouched down so he was more eye level. "It's that with sinners…is they can't be simply classified as this guys good, this guys bad. Good and Evil are both relative terms. It's more the time and environment where they exist that plays a role in who they are and what they did to wind up here. Say for instance a guy broke into a store and stole food, he gets arrested and thrown in jail for his crime. Would he deserve it?"
"I suppose so," Charlie responded. "If this person did something bad by breaking into someone's business and took something that was part of their means to gain a living. They deserve to face retribution for their actions."
"A lot'a people would agree with that," Angel said. "Now, look at it this way…the person who commits this act is really good hearted. However, he also has a wife and several children at this really shitty one room apartment on the poor side of town. His job doesn't earn enough to make a living so his family often has to live a hand-to-mouth existence. His wife and himself often have to resort to starvation to make sure their children are able to have what little food they are able to parse out until he is able to receive payment. Majority of that payment goes towards paying off rent, while the rest is used to buy provisions until the next pay period. Unfortunately, the place he's workin' at decides he is no longer needed. So they just drop him like he's nothin', he knows if he can't work he can't provide for his family. The only money he has is enough to cover rent for another month but not much else. And on top of that his wife is dying because he can't afford a doctor. So while passing a bakery he sees some bread loaves in the window. In desperation he finds something that he can use to break the window. He only takes a small number of the loaves such as two or three at worst. This isn't enough to hurt the bakery, they'd just be out a few units of product and one window, but easily recoverable losses. The next day while out he is looking for another job, a couple of police officers come up and arrest him. They inform him that someone witnessed him as the person who broke the window of that bakery and he will spend time in jail because of it. Would he still deserve prison time?"
"Well," Charlie said with news. "Couldn't this person explain why he did it, maybe the owner of the bakery would understand that his person was only helping his family."
"The baker might be understandin'," Angel agreed. "He could have a family himself and he knows it's not really easy to make ends meet. But he really has no say in what should happen to this person.
"What about the police officers," Charlie suggested. "They must have a family themselves, maybe they could…"
"Nope," Angel said. "It don't matter what the cops morally believe in this situation. Even if they did have full details as to why, they would still see it as a crime. So they would say it's their job to put this person behind bars. If they just let him go, they could lose their jobs because of it. Plus a number of the cops are corrupt and see the badge as an excuse to bully other people for whatever reason because they represent the law."
"That doesn't seem fair," Charlie said. "To punish a person who is only trying to feed his family. There has to be someone who would see that as an injustice."
"Not everyone sees things like that," Angel sighed. "Some guy, may be doing somethin' that is for good reasons, they just do something horrible to achieve it. And public opinion would say he's a hero for it. While someone else can do the same thing, and be treated as though they're the scum of the Earth."
"I think I see your point," Charlie stated as she tried to process what Angel was saying. "What is the reason for this story?"
"Because it was the sort of thing I saw occurring through-out my lifetime," Angel pointed out. "Though my story really begins long before my folks even met." In a flash of motion, Angel stood up and tossed a hand towards a branch in a tree he was standing against. Thin cords of white appeared to come out of his fingers creating a rope that wrapped around a sizable stick with enough force for the small branch to break and fall. The white furred spider caught the stick in his hand as simply as the leader of a marching band would have caught a baton.
"Hang on," Charlie said. "I can summon Vaggie and Cherri…they should be here for this."
"I don't want to have to repeat anythin'" Angel said. "I'll be honest with yah, I've never actually told anyone about my past before. I'm already going to be relivin' a lot of stuff, just considering what needs to be said."
"There isn't any pressure," Charlie said. "Why don't I record what you tell me, if you are okay with anyone else at the hotel being able to listen to it." Angel didn't make any response. He had taken a seat on a rock close by to Charlie and was using the stick he had been holding to draw a rough boot shaped object in the dirt at their feet, and then about a foot away from this he drew another object. Charlie at first wasn't entirely sure what these objects were supposed to be. Angel was known to be crass and did resort to sexualized humor…mostly to annoy Vaggie. Both objects did look like they were on the phallic-side, but she didn't want to assume things before Angel had the chance to explain.
"No pressure, huh," Angel said as he stopped drawing.
"I do want to know and understand the things you have been through," Charlie affirmed. "I meant what I said that day I first met you…there is more to you then even you realize and I want to help. During the time you were at the clinic, I've been doing a lot of thinking since that night you asked me about why I felt that demons could be redeemed. My focus up until now has been proving redemption is possible. Where I really should put my time and energy is getting to know the people who do enter the hotel. That way I have more of an idea of what led them here and how to reach them."
"That's a good start," Angel offered an approving smile. "Though, you might want councilors to do that job. You're a sweetheart and all that, but for the average sinner…that might come across as a bit much. What would work more is Sinners might find it easier to relate to someone who is closer to their level." Charlie side-eyed Angel at that statement. She wasn't offended, but it never actually occurred to her that her approach to sinners was coming off as too strong, or that her status as part of Hell's Royal family could be intimidating. It was something she would have to keep in mind for later.
"So about this," Charlie asked? She held out a hand to the images Angel had drawn into the dirt "What do these mean." Charlie pulled up an audio app and pressed the record button so that Angel's story could be heard by Vaggie and Cherri when they returned to the cabin.
"These are countries," Angel answered. "This boot shaped one is Italy, and this other place is known as the United States of America. For many years after the fall of the Roman Empire, Italy was divided into North Italy and South Italy." Angel used a stick to draw a line through the center. "Both of my parents are from Southern Italy. Pops was from Naples, and Mamma was from a town known as Calabria. The southern region of Italy is rich in culture, but it largely consists of rural communities. So everything grown, raised, or caught as food were often preserved so they could last as long as possible. This was also where organized crime activity was first recorded. Italy as a country had numerous mob syndicates, but there were three major ones." Angel then traced a line out from the three points in the drawing of Italy. One line stretched out from the point where Angel said Naples was. A second stretched out from the toe of the boot shaped country, and a third line stretched out from a point under the boot.
"The Camorra was the oldest one," Angel explained. "The NDrangheta are the most dangerous group. And the most well known one is the Cosa Nostra. Italy didn't become a whole country until 1861, and unification did lead to political and economic upheaval. Around this time, the US was also having its own divisive conflict known as the Civil War. Some years after this conflict America started requesting people from Italy to America as laborers. Smiles could probably tell you more about this, but when Italian's started arriving in America around 1880's they arrived through New Orleans. Many Southern Italians jumped at the chance to build new lives in America, however, organized crime also followed them. My mother was from a NDranheti organization known as the Croche family. Selected members of their family traveled to America and settled in New York. My mothers father then started an Italian imports business that was a front for more nefarious side jobs.
Pops on the other hand was Neapolitan, so he lived with the influence of the Camorra but wasn't one of them himself. He traveled to New York when Ellis island had opened in 1892. While Ellis Island was a gateway for various people from Europe to find refuge and opportunities, it also had a foreboding nickname given to it "The Isle of Hope and Tears". The people when they arrived were run through hours of tests and investigations. If people didn't pass these tests or were deemed unfit they were put back on the ship and sent back to their country of origin. Families were torn apart, children were orphaned on American soil while their parents were denied entry, shit like that. The other down side of the immigration boom is a lot of the people that came over from other countries were exploited, given low payin' jobs in factories or work houses. Even the orphanages were a source for easy labor. Pops found himself a small apartment in an area of New York city that was colorfully known as Hell's Kitchen because it was one of the more violent areas of town. And he had been given a labor job loading cargo on and off the ships that came through the harbor. He had been in livin New York for about half a year before he noticed someone watchin' him. When he stopped for a smoke break, this stranger came up to him and said they could use his help with something and they'd pay him for his time. Figurin' it was better not to ask any questions. He did the job, took his payment and returned to his regular job as though nothin' happened. Some weeks later, the same guy comes up to him and says they could use his help and he'd be paid for his time. Pops again didn't ask questions, he just did the job, took his payment and acted like nothin' happened. After a few months of this, the guy explains that he was connected to the Croche family. If Pops was interested, he could put in a good word for him and they could get him setup as a Made Guy. If he wasn't interested in "the life", then this is where their interactions would end. Pops agreed to join the Croche family, and proved himself to be able to handle the Mob Life. It was during a meeting with Don Croche that Pops and Mamma first met. Sometime after my Fratello was born, and then I was born some years after, and then our sister…Molly."
"Is that why you always look towards Heaven," Charlie asked as she held her hand to the white moon-like orb that hovered in the sky like a moon. "Because you think she might be there."
"If any of the three of us was to get into Heaven," Angel said. "It would be her. And yeah, I have looked for her in Pentagram, considerin' I arrived here over seventy-years-ago. Another person that would be there would be my Mamma."
"Your mom," Charlie immediately filed through her mind. When he had come in during her call, he had correctly guessed that Charlie had been on a call with her Mother. She hadn't realized it before, but when he said the word 'Mamma' there wasn't just an Italian lilt to his voice. There was also a hint of sadness as well.
"Yeah," Angel sighed. "I didn't know Mamma for very long, she died when I was young. The earliest memories I had of her is that she was always kind, but always looked fearful when Pops was around. Pops he wasn't the most fatherly of men. He'd be out often because of his job running the shell business his father-in-law created. It was known in the house there was more going on than just the imports business. Even when Mamma would take Moll's and me to the park while Fratello was at school. I would hear people sometimes whisper that my father earned suspicious money. When I had asked Mamma about what they meant, she became uncomfortable and tell me it wasn't something to talk about. When Pops did come home he was often in a mood and everything anyone did would set him off. There would be times Pops would be gone for a stretch of nights. You would think this would be a moment where we could feel at ease, but it only made us feel more on edge. When Pops was gone for over a night, Mamma would call the house next door so her older sister, Sabina, would look after us. There were never any questions exchanged, she just knew it was better for us to be elsewhere when Pops finally came home. It was always easy to tell when he did return by the commotion we would here. When we were able to return home, there was the smell of cheap cologne or perfume along with the smell of Pops cigars. Mamma would have bruises that she didn't want to talk about, and even Nonna refused to say about anything that had occurred."
"Couldn't anyone do anything," Charlie asked? "Your mother's father or somebody."
"It was a different time," Angel sighed. "Back then wives were treated like they were property. No one liked to talk or think about it, but there really wasn't anything done about domestic issues…at worst all that would happen if it was reported was a slap on the wrist. My Nonni did know what was happenin' but couldn't interfere in the marriage. He had sons who also didn't like the idea of their sister being abused, but they also didn't feel they could step in without causing problems. Particularly since Pops had proven himself to be rather ruthless in getting what he wanted. You see with mob families, while nepotism is a major thing. It also wasn't unheard of for family members such as a son to receive orders to kill their own father, or a brother to put a hit on a brother. The big difference with Mafia Royalty is the roles of Don and Underboss aren't always inherited…they are appointed. Pops could be charismatic and could get people to like him. But this is also where his ruthlessness came in as well…he was given the nickname of "The Wolf" for a reason. He had been convincing the other members of the Croche family that his father-in-law Don Croche was no longer suitable for his position. If anyone tried to object, Pops would use more persuasive tactics of getting them to see reason. He then led a coup against his father-in-law and the oldest of my Mother's brothers. It was never revealed what actually happened to them other than they had likely been murdered. That's another thing with the Mob, they can arrange things so people just vanish and are never found. It isn't just given 'em cement shoes and drop' 'em in the Hudson. If they didn't want someone traced back to 'em they made damn sure there wasn't a body to find. After this coup, Pop's took over as the new Capofamiglia."
"So this is how the "Rag-no" family came to be," Charlie asked? Angel let out a slight snort of laughter at this.
"I take it that you've only seen the name written," Angel said with amusement. "The 'g' is actually silent so it's actually pronounced as 'Ran-ieo'."
"I see," Charlie answered. "Thank you for the correction, I will be sure to remember that."
"'Eh," Angel said with an indifferent shrug."The name translates to 'Spider' if you're interested. I guess it's kinda appropriate considering the obvious. Pop's takin' over wasn't without its issues. Everything up until the 1930's made New York look like a spaghetti western so to speak. There were families carvin' out territory, planten' stakes, makin' reputations. We even had a term for prepping for when a Gang War was to erupt, "Goin' to the Mattresses". It sounds weird I know, but when a family knew a conflict was going to break out with other gangs. The family would buy up empty apartments and have mattresses put in 'em. These became temporary hide outs for the various crews. Half the guys would get what rest they can on the mattresses while the other half were on look out. After a week or so they would switch out to another location, this way an enemy family can't track a group to a single spot. The irony with someone like Pops is groups such as the Five Families didn't gain the power and respect they had by burning bridges. They were rivals and did get into conflicts with one another, but they were also willing to sit down and hash things out or make deals before resorting to straight up starting gunfights. Murders were ordered and carried out naturally, but that wasn't the immediate go-to option. I mean, yeah, you had some guys who had no problem killen' guys left and right. That's practically a normal Tuesday in a number of areas in the city. However, murder itself was seen as bad for business so if there were other options those were put on the table before there was any talk about turning some schmuck into swiss-cheese. Pops was one of those guys who led through fear only with respect and appreciation being seen as things that had to be earned…not freely given. Unfortunately, that kinda thinkin' don't gain yah many allies, it only turns everyone against you in the end. Things became worse in 1919…because that's when Mamma passed away."
*Flashback March 1919*
It was a seemingly normal day at their kindergarten class, though Anthony had a sense of unease. His mother had been feeling under the weather that morning and had her sister, Sabina Andreioli take the three of them to school. He was seated at a low table with Molly and a couple of his classmates working on a drawing project the teacher had assigned. Every so often he would pull uncomfortably at the gauze mask he had been instructed to wear. He didn't understand the reason for why he had to wear it aside from the adults saying it would prevent him from becoming sick from the flu that had been spreading around. The thing was still daunting to wear and made his face feel itchy.
There was a knock on the door before Mrs. Schultz, the secretary from the front office entered. Mrs. Tavert, their teacher, immediately walked to the other woman and talked in whispers before glancing over Anthony and Molly's direction.
"Anthony…Molly," Mrs. Tavert called to the two children. "Could you come here please?" Reluctantly, though obediently the boy and girl stood up and joined the teacher at the door. They both glanced at one another uneasily as they wondered what was happening. "Please follow Mrs. Schultz to the office, your aunt is here to collect you."
"I will need to get their older brother from his Third-grade class," Mrs. Schultz said before she instructionally turned to the young boy and girl. "You two, get your coats and belongings." Neither Anthony or Molly argued as they collected their jackets and school bags that hung on the rack close to the door. The situation drew the attention of the other children in the class since they normally didn't see anyone having to leave early.
"Return to your assignment," Mrs. Tavert instructed the rest of the class as the two kindergartners were led down the hallway and up a flight of stairs to the rooms the older-grades were held. Stopping at one of the doors, Mrs. Schultz instructed them to stay put before she knocked on it and entered. A few minutes later, she exited with Enzo close behind. He also had been instructed to grab his coat and school bag.
"If you'll follow me," Mrs. Schultz said as she guided the three of them down the hall to a flight of stairs that led to a doorway on the lower floor that opened closer to the office.
"What'd you twerps do," Enzo hissed to his younger siblings? While he didn't exactly mind being pulled out of his class, he didn't want the reason for it to be because of something they were responsible for.
"Nothin'," Molly answered. Enzo just let out a snort of disbelief.
"We was just told Zia Sabina is here," Anthony explained. This caused Enzo to pause and regard his younger brother a moment. There was no reason for his little brother to make that up, so there was clearly something serious going on. Upon their arrival at the school's office Sabina immediately rushed up to them; gathering the two younger children into her arms. The action seemed like it was meant to comfort them, but it seemed as though she also intended to comfort herself.
"What happened," Enzo asked? "Is it Pops?" While he knew his fathers business was not something to be spoken of, he had overheard the conversations that his father would have with the family members who were associated with it. Such as conflicts and rivalries with other groups and how they should be dealt with. Even at his current tender age of nine, his father would take him to the gun range on weekends for gun practice as a means to prepare him as part of that existence. If someone decided to take out Pops…
"It's your mother," Sabina answered. She wiped away some tears from her eyes as though she knew the situation was bad. "She has taken ill, a doctor is with her now…your father has been informed and is at the house already. Umberto is waiting in the car outside."
"Alright," Enzo said. "Tony, Molly, let's go." The two children followed after their older brother like a pair of baby chicks. Molly was already beginning the hiccup noise that suggested she was starting to cry. Anthony took hold of his sister's hand to remind her that he was there, but bit his lip to keep from giving into tears himself. When he had cried after Enzo had bullied him some days ago, his father had grabbed him by the scruff of the shirt and pulled him into his study.
Their fathers study was the one room in the house that was forbidden to everyone, even Mamma and Nonna were not allowed to enter. If you were brought here it was for two reasons, Pops wanted to have a private talk, something he often did with Enzo. Or he was going to give out punishment for something. Depending on the severity of his anger, Pops either resorted to physically hitting or he pulled out a thick belt strap he used for beatings. At that time, Henrico had only punched his youngest son across the face. But he had promised that the next time he was caught 'crying like a girl' he would experience worse. Anthony didn't doubt that as often as his father failed to keep most of his promises, that was one promise he wouldn't go back on.
Like Molly, he also felt things were bad. If Sabina had come to retrieve them from school…it wasn't just because their mother was ill. She had come to get them so they would have a chance to say 'good-bye'. Umberto Andreioli was waiting in the driver's seat of his sedan. The three children bundled themselves into the back seat of the car without a word. The ride home was quiet with the exception of Molly sniveling. Anthony pulled his younger sister close in an attempt at comforting her. With his face shielded by her shoulders he also felt freedom to let his tears fall. Enzo was looking out the window the entire ride home, even though he was trying to put up a strong front, Anthony could tell his older brother was grieving in his own way. The car ride seemed to take forever, but when they finally pulled up to their brownstone it felt all too soon.
"Clean up your face before Pops sees yah," Enzo hissed in warning to his younger brother as they entered the house. Anthony didn't argue or question as a matter of fact there was something he wanted to retrieve while he still had the chance. Making an excuse that he would be upstairs shortly he slipped into the guest bathroom. Turning on the light he did notice that his face was noticeably stained with the salty tracks of his tears. He paused for a short moment and flushed the toilet to keep up the ruse, he then turned on the faucet as though to wash his hands. All the while he used a dampened washcloth to help cleanse away the tracks traced down his cherubic cheeks. Once he felt he was clean enough to not rouse his fathers disapproval he slipped out of the guest bathroom and went to the kitchen. Moving the stool he used when he assisted his mother in the kitchen, he climbed it and grabbed a nondescript looking book. It was hardly more than a journal, but this book was one of his mothers valued treasures. A handwritten book of recipes from the old world that had been written by his mother, his mothers mother, and other women in the Croche family. He had just slipped the book into his school bag when he heard his fathers ogre like bellow from upstairs.
"ANTHONY," His father roared. "GET UP HERE BEFORE I DRAG YOU UP MYSELF!"
"Comein' Papa," Anthony responded as he left the kitchen and made his way up the staircase. His legs felt tired and he was out of breath due to the steep climb to the second floor. The moment he entered the hallway. Henrico Ragno greeted his younger son with a firm smack to the face.
"Worthless brat," Don Ragno seethed before he reached out and grabbed the young boy by the hair. "A real man shows up as expected, no excuses."
"Sorry Pops," Angel painfully gritted out. "I'll do better."
"Good," Henrico growled as he let go of the younger boy. "Now go to your room and put your stuff away." Anthony didn't argue as he followed as his father commanded. He went to the room he shared with his sister while Nonna Ragno clucked her tongue disapprovingly.
"Maria ha viziato troppo quel ragazzo, (Maria's spoiled that boy too much, )" He could hear his grandmother say in her Neapolitan dialect. "Grazie a Dio, Enzo è cresciuto come si deve. (Thank God, Enzo has grown up properly.)
Anthony and his sister met eyes in mutual understanding as he entered the room. Their grandmother had never approved of Henrico Ragno's choice in a wife. All throughout their lives everything their mother did was met with scorn. Maria had put a folding cot in the nursery to immediately tend to her infant children so the sound of their cries wouldn't annoy their father. Nonna Ragno responded to this by berating the younger woman for coddling them too much. When Sabina was asked to look after the three of them while Maria did shopping or cooking. Nonna Ragno would chastise her daughter-in-law for allowing her grandchildren to be raised by a stranger. Even when Anthony helped his mother with cooking the evening meal. Nonna Ragno had scolded the younger woman by saying Molly should be the one helping with the meal as a woman's place is in the home.
Enzo was only seen as being properly raised because Nonna Ragno had looked after him when Maria wasn't able to. Their father also kept Enzo close to him whenever he could under the insistence he was being trained to be a man. The brother and sister knew their older brother was only being instructed how to follow in his fathers footsteps. This didn't prevent him from being subjected to his fathers mood swings, but it was easier for him to go with what his father expected rather than argue.
Anthony took off his school bag and shoved it under the bed. He would decide what should be done with his mothers recipe journal later. All the recipes in the journal were hand written in Italian. He was only starting to learn how to read but it would be years before he could comprehend what it said. He wanted to hold on to it, but if Pops caught him with it he had a feeling the older man would punish him. Henrico Ragno always seemed to find fault in everything his younger son did. When Enzo achieved something there was always a proud "That's my boy,", but Anthony's achievements were always met with dismissal as though they didn't matter. Even during birthdays, Enzo and Molly were given anything they wanted while Anthony was barely spared a thought by their father.
Sitting down on the edge of his bed Anthony looked about him as if trying to etch everything as it was to memory. Everything would change after that day, Pops would see to that. Just the previous afternoon, Pops had been telling Enzo that his younger brother would be living with him for a while. The older boy had been objectionable to this and said he didn't want to share rooms with a five-year-old bedwetter. Pops had reasoned with the older boy by explaining having Anthony and Molly share the same room was detrimental to his kid brothers development. Molly's presence in the room was too much of a girly influence and that was leaving Anthony confused about what is and isn't normal. By putting Anthony in a room with another boy he would begin to get the hint what is proper behavior.
Molly empathetically sat down next to her immediate older brother and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was no longer tearful, but it made her feel at ease for him to be close to her.
"The doctor said it's time," Sabina said when she arrived at the door. "Get your masks and come with me." The two children put on the gauze masks that they had taken off once they had arrived at home. Enzo also left his room and followed his younger brother and sister to their parents room. A man they didn't recognize but they assumed had to be the doctor was standing over their mother as she lay in bed. Her body looked fragile and wan. Her golden brown hair fanned out against the pillows. Each breath she took was thick and painfully wet like she was drowning in the mucus filling her lungs. Turning her head towards the door she smiled weakly at the sight of her children.
"Mamma," Molly said. Her voice was muffled by the gauze mask covering her face.
"I…I love…you…all," the dying woman said. Her voice was raspy and her words sounded like they were painful for her to say. "Look…after ea…each oth…er." Turning her head away she gave a moist sounding cough that was hard enough for her lungs to sound like they would burst. Anthony wanted to run to his mother, his childish mind believing that if wrapped his arms around her the shadow of death would change its mind and leave. He probably would have if Enzo didn't hold him back.
"That's enough," The doctor said with a tone of finality. "Let's not stress this woman out further." Sabina ushered the children out of their parents room and back to their own. Enzo was instructed to do the assignments his teacher had given him for the next few days so he could remain on top of his course work. Anthony and Molly were instructed to have a nap and then pack up what clothing they needed for the next few days. Sabina was having them stay over at her home while their father settled some business. Once the door to their room was closed, Anthony pulled out his school bag from under the bed and removed the recipe journal and flipped through the pages. He couldn't read any of the words, but he liked to believe that he could feel his mothers hands lovingly touch the onion skin textured foolscap pages. Each page contained the words that were written by the hands of women that had possessed it previously. Molly had settled down beside him and began looking through the pages of their mother's recipe journal.
"Here," Molly suggested. "I know where we can hide it." Taking the journal she slipped it between the first and second mattress of her own bed. Anthony gave a small smile of appreciation to his younger sister as she rejoined him. As they fell into a quiet slumber the two of them clung to one another in resistance to the changes that would come to sever their family to its very core.
*end flashback*
"To give Pop's some sympathy," Angel said as he was done recounting this moment in his life. "He was left a widower with three kids he had to somehow raise on his own, and didn't exactly know how to."
"Still…" Charlie said. "To lose a parent that young…"
"It happened a lot," Angel said. "The flu pandemic that was going on was devastating…no one really knew what to do about it. People would just become sick and weren' able to recover. The lucky ones died in a handful of hours, less fortunate ones died in a matter of days. Hospitals were overwhelmed and couldn't deal with everyone infected. We weren't there when she passed away, Sabina had the three of us next door at her house.
Her husband, Umberto Andreioli was the family Consigliere and had to be with Pops to assist with arrangements and dealings. Having three children under foot would have been more than Pops could tolerate at that time. So Sabina had set up a couple of mattresses in the living room as a place to sleep where she felt we could be warm and comfortable. It was during the night, when she assumed we were asleep that Umberto came home. They had kept the conversation hushed, but I knew the three of us were listening to what was being said. Molly was inconsolable after learning our mother was gone. Fratello…he just went quiet. He had always been withdrawn and didn't really speak unless directly addressed. After mom died he just became even more sullen and distant. Throwing himself into what Pops expected rather than spending time with others. Our family was in mourning for about two weeks until, two days after the funeral, Pops declared that the mourning period was over and there was no further point in speaking of the dead. Our mother was gone, she wasn't coming back so he didn't want to hear us speak of her ever again."
"That seems rather harsh," Charlie commented. "I thought the departed were to be remembered."
"It's a cultural superstition," Angel explained. "In Italian culture, when you speak of the deceased, their spirits will linger in the realm of the living and disrupt the order of life and death. So after the mourning period is declared over all talk or mention of the person is never brought up again. Of course being among the dead myself, it seems rather stupid in hindsight."
Charlie's eyes turned sorrowful at this statement. She didn't point out the obvious as she heard the bitter sounding tone in Angel's voice. When he had died, there was a good chance his father and older brother were all too willing to never speak of him again. While the superstition may have been a convenient reason, that didn't mean it wouldn't come across as cruel and heartless.
"The next few years weren't easy ones for any of us," Angel continued "I was moved into the same room as Fratello, something neither of us were all that fond of. I was mostly relegated to a small quarter of the room. Pops even had a dividing curtain put up so I would be aware of which area of the room was designated to me. Moll's and I were so used to rooming together, she would sometimes join me. If Fratello found her he's forcibly pull her out of the room and then lock the door to make sure she didn't return. The first handful of times he would do this she would knock on the door begging Fratello to open the door until Pops or Nonna commanded she settle down and go to bed. If Nonna found her like Fratello she would yank her out of the room all the while threatening to beat her senseless if she didn't behave herself. If Pops found us together, he would scold her back to her room. I would be yanked out of bed and punished for supposedly encouraging her."
"Well I will sort of agree that a brother and sister sharing the…" Charlie attempt to show she understood the reasons for the actions taken. While she knew the action itself was innocent, in the eyes of someone else it might look questionable.
"Yeah, yeah," Angel said. "It would look incestious…trust me it was anything but. It ain't just that Molly and I were close…for us, it felt we were the only thing we really had. Growin' up knowing yah old man as a monster don't exactly gain you many people who want to be friends with you. On the good side, people don't really mess with you…on the down side they don't want to hang out with you either. Even the teachers dreaded the days Pops would need to have parent-teacher conferences for any of us. When it came to grades, that's when Pops took interest. When Fratello would get a good grade Pops would proudly boast about how he knew he picked the right boy to be his favorite. With more middle of the road ones such as C's he would shrug and say not all subjects were for everyone. With me, if I got an A in something, Pops would just give some vague approval. B's he would grouse about how my older brother had gotten an A in that subject when he was my age, so what was I doing to get a lower grade. If I got a C in anything, Pops would say that was just a nice way of saying "barely passing" and he expected better results. With Molly, he didn't really expect much…as long as she could read and write correctly that was all she really needed to know. It was the men of the family who had to be on top of all the hard stuff."
"That seems unfair," Charlie said.
"It's how we was raised," Angel said. "Pops had the standard view of the world at the time, where Men were the breadwinners, and the ladies just were there to produce children, clean the house, and cook. When it came to women who were employees, he'd just say even a monkey could be trained to use a typewriter. So just because someone gave a pretty face a job at a desk, it didn't mean she was doing anything that was all that complicated. Even when women won the right to vote in 1920, Pops had only gone into a rant about how dames had no place involving themselves in political matters."
"But still," Charlie said.
"Fratello was the only one of the two of us who graduated highschool," Angel said. "If the family wasn't an issue and he was allowed the option of goin' to college, he probably could have come out as a lawyer, banker, or something. He was the one who had the mindset for business. I don't really know what I could have been if I had completed school. Take it from me, I'm no straight-A scholar or anything like that, but the highest grade I completed was 9th grade. Why I didn't complete school is also a long story, but that's a bridge we haven't come to yet."
"Okay," Charlie said, wanting him to continue the story. He was making the choice to reveal all this to her, if he called for a break or a chance to pick up this story again that also had to be his choice. "So after your mother died…what happened."
"I started getting involved with the family business," Angel explained. "I was around seven when I started doin' this. I was also trained in gun use during weekends alongside fratello. When I was with the family, I wasn't doing jobs or getting to know what was done just yet. I'd be given simple jobs such as being a note runner and carrying correspondence to my uncles and their crews. Fratello served as a look out and watch for cops during some business deals. The only jobs I did witness was when I would go with one of my uncles when they had to collect extortion money from some store or another. This way all the other patrons didn't see anything off about a man coming in to get his nephews a treat such as some amaretto cookies or a cannoli. The clerk would be obliging, but then he would tell the other patrons he was closing for break and will reopen again in an hour. Once everyone was gone, then everything would get down to business. If the clerk was claiming he didn't have the money, Fratello and I were given a signal to start vandalizing the store. It was minor things at first such as maybe something that was an inconvenience but not a major loss. The damage would become worse if the person being extorted continued to insist he couldn't give the money. Eventually he would cough up the money, or he would prove didn't have anything. So he would be given a warning if he didn't have the money within a week they would make him regret crossing our family."
"That seems excessive," Charlie commented. "Destroying someone's business like that…even if they did owe money to your family, wouldn't damaging his products be counter-productive."
"It was," Angel agreed. "But it's part of life, the Mafia would help their local communities. But that help came at a cost. Yah ever read a book called "The Prince" by Niccolò Machiavelli? For the Mob that book is the equivalent of the Bible. It's essentially a book written about how to lead politically, but it follows a 16th century mindset that would have been understandable for times such as the Renaissance. Machivellian viewpoints still hold weight in a more modern age, but I know it aren't exactly stuff that you would entirely agree with. For instance one of the quotes Pops always adhered to is "It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both."
"You're right, I won't agree with that," Charlie said. "What is the point if those who follow you fear you."
"To be honest…having that way of thinkin' never sat well with me either." Angel remarked. "After all, if you hold power by perpetually being a bully, eventually someone is going to come along and unseat yah and no one is going to give a fuck about what happens. But the thing is, that line is really only part of a larger view. Essentially what was being said in the book is that you can't really lead through force or good will alone. If you lead by only being nice. that can get people to like you, but it can lead someone to ruin because if you are accommodating to everyone they will seek a means to take advantage of you. While leading through intimidation is considered safer, people eventually will get tired of being pushed around and will turn against those who they see as their oppressors. To be seen as someone worth following it's important to lead with benevolence, but you must be aware that there will be times when you will need to require force. It's just a matter of having the wisdom to know what hills you are willing to die on. So with the Mafia, we'd support our communities however we can, protect business, offer assistance where it is needed. However, if the Mob does favors for you, they will expect a favor in return, and they will let you know what they require of you. If you can't complete that favor or you cross them in any way…unpleasant things do happen. For instance Fratello was brought in as an associate when he was around thirteen. This was the time he proved himself to the family…I don't know much about what actually occurred cause I wasn't there.. Apparently, Pops had made an arrangement with a woman who ran a speakeasy. During the 1920's the manufacture and sale of alcohol was deemed illegal. This of course was easy to say, but difficult to enforce so people would find various means to smuggle and sell drinks. This is also where the Mafia started to gain power because they would serve as bootleg suppliers. The crew Fratello was with had gone to gain some payment for a shipment of booze. The owner of that speakeasy had warned them that the cops had been poking around and she had to switch to mock versions of the drinks in an attempt to throw them off. Unfortunately, that did cause her to lose customers so she wanted to cease supply in the meantime so she could use up what alcohol she already had. There apparently was an argument about that and in the conflict this person was shot. I can't say why he did it, but Fratello was the one holding the smoking gun when it happened."
