Michael
explained.
"And what way is that ?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Any way he wants."
The movie playing was Birdman of Alcatraz , starring Burt
Lancaster. Suddenly he'd lost all interest in seeing it. All he could
think about was that sitting a few rows in front of him was Vito
Giovanni, and he was desperate to meet him. Ever since he was a kid
he'd heard stories about the man who ruled the neighborhood. Vito
Giovanni was rich. He was powerful. He was everything Michael aspired
to be.
The movie started and Polly obviously expected the usual goings-on
in the back row, but he wasn't in the mood to touch her; he had
other, more important things on his mind.
"What's with you?" she asked after a few minutes.
"I wanna see this movie," he lied. "Do you mind if I
concentrate for once?"
" Sorry ," she drawled sarcastically. "Didn't know we came to
the flicks to actually see the film."
"Thought you liked Burt Lancaster."
"Wouldn't kick him out of bed," she admitted with a sly
giggle.
As soon as the movie was finished Michael was on his feet,
standing in the aisle just as Vito Giovanni and his entourage were
about to pass.
"Excuse me, Mr. Giovanni," he said, blocking the way of the short,
heavyset man who was famous for favoring cashmere overcoats and
flowing white silk scarves.
"Out the way, punk," one of his bodyguards said, shoving him
aside.
"All I wanted t' do was meet him," Michael said indignantly,
almost losing his balance.
"Get lost," the henchman growled as the group moved on.
The following day Mrs. Giovanni walked into the shop. Michael
immediately recognized her. She looked like an overblown Hollywood
starlet, with her teased blond hair and enormous bosom. She was
wearing a skintight white dress and was accompanied by her cousin
Roy, who stood outside the shop smoking a cigarette.
She sauntered over to Michael and came right to the point. "You
Vinny Castellino's kid?"
"Uh ... that's right," he said, trying not to stare at her big
breasts.
"What did ya wanna talk to my husband about?"
"I pay him protection," Michael said, startled by her visit. "So I
kinda figured we should meet."
She threw back her head and roared with laughter. "You're a ballsy
little one, ain't cha?"
"Not so little," he answered boldly.
"You look like Vinny," she said, squinting at him through heavily
mascara'd eyes. " And you got a mouth, which is more than I can
say for him."
"Where do you know my dad from?" he asked, quite shocked
that she'd mentioned Vinny by name.
"It was a long time ago," she said, thoroughly checking him out.
"How old're you, anyway?"
"Twenty."
She gave a derisive laugh. "No way, sonny."
"Nineteen," he lied.
"Try seventeen ," she said, tapping her long red nails on
the counter. "Am I right?"
"Maybe," he answered cagily.
"Yeah, I'm right," she said, very sure of herself.
"How well did ya know my dad?"
"Well enough," she replied with a secretive wink. "If you get my
drift."
"And my mom, did ya know her too?"
"Oh— her ," she said dismissively. "Wasn't good enough
for your old man. He dragged her over from Italy on account of the
fact that he knocked her up. I guess you was the bun in her
hot little oven."
Michael stared at her, trying to decide what to make of this
flashy blond woman with her huge breasts and disrespectful
attitude.
"Okay, kiddo," she said, smoothing down her short skirt. "Why
don't you come see Mr. Giovanni tomorrow, two o'clock? I'll make sure
he gives you the time of day. Oh yeah," she added, turning on her way
out, "an' you can tell Vinny that Marnie says hello."
"Marnie?"
"That's my name, honeybunch."
"I'll tell him."
"Sorry he's stuck in a wheelchair," she said, hesitating for a
moment. "Only, that's what you get when you choose the wrong path,
ain't it?"
"Huh?"
"No big deal," she said. "Vinny's the loser. I'm the
winner.
"My dad's not a loser," Michael said, quickly defending Vinny,
because family was family and he didn't want to come across as
disloyal.
"Have
explained.
"And what way is that ?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Any way he wants."
The movie playing was Birdman of Alcatraz , starring Burt
Lancaster. Suddenly he'd lost all interest in seeing it. All he could
think about was that sitting a few rows in front of him was Vito
Giovanni, and he was desperate to meet him. Ever since he was a kid
he'd heard stories about the man who ruled the neighborhood. Vito
Giovanni was rich. He was powerful. He was everything Michael aspired
to be.
The movie started and Polly obviously expected the usual goings-on
in the back row, but he wasn't in the mood to touch her; he had
other, more important things on his mind.
"What's with you?" she asked after a few minutes.
"I wanna see this movie," he lied. "Do you mind if I
concentrate for once?"
" Sorry ," she drawled sarcastically. "Didn't know we came to
the flicks to actually see the film."
"Thought you liked Burt Lancaster."
"Wouldn't kick him out of bed," she admitted with a sly
giggle.
As soon as the movie was finished Michael was on his feet,
standing in the aisle just as Vito Giovanni and his entourage were
about to pass.
"Excuse me, Mr. Giovanni," he said, blocking the way of the short,
heavyset man who was famous for favoring cashmere overcoats and
flowing white silk scarves.
"Out the way, punk," one of his bodyguards said, shoving him
aside.
"All I wanted t' do was meet him," Michael said indignantly,
almost losing his balance.
"Get lost," the henchman growled as the group moved on.
The following day Mrs. Giovanni walked into the shop. Michael
immediately recognized her. She looked like an overblown Hollywood
starlet, with her teased blond hair and enormous bosom. She was
wearing a skintight white dress and was accompanied by her cousin
Roy, who stood outside the shop smoking a cigarette.
She sauntered over to Michael and came right to the point. "You
Vinny Castellino's kid?"
"Uh ... that's right," he said, trying not to stare at her big
breasts.
"What did ya wanna talk to my husband about?"
"I pay him protection," Michael said, startled by her visit. "So I
kinda figured we should meet."
She threw back her head and roared with laughter. "You're a ballsy
little one, ain't cha?"
"Not so little," he answered boldly.
"You look like Vinny," she said, squinting at him through heavily
mascara'd eyes. " And you got a mouth, which is more than I can
say for him."
"Where do you know my dad from?" he asked, quite shocked
that she'd mentioned Vinny by name.
"It was a long time ago," she said, thoroughly checking him out.
"How old're you, anyway?"
"Twenty."
She gave a derisive laugh. "No way, sonny."
"Nineteen," he lied.
"Try seventeen ," she said, tapping her long red nails on
the counter. "Am I right?"
"Maybe," he answered cagily.
"Yeah, I'm right," she said, very sure of herself.
"How well did ya know my dad?"
"Well enough," she replied with a secretive wink. "If you get my
drift."
"And my mom, did ya know her too?"
"Oh— her ," she said dismissively. "Wasn't good enough
for your old man. He dragged her over from Italy on account of the
fact that he knocked her up. I guess you was the bun in her
hot little oven."
Michael stared at her, trying to decide what to make of this
flashy blond woman with her huge breasts and disrespectful
attitude.
"Okay, kiddo," she said, smoothing down her short skirt. "Why
don't you come see Mr. Giovanni tomorrow, two o'clock? I'll make sure
he gives you the time of day. Oh yeah," she added, turning on her way
out, "an' you can tell Vinny that Marnie says hello."
"Marnie?"
"That's my name, honeybunch."
"I'll tell him."
"Sorry he's stuck in a wheelchair," she said, hesitating for a
moment. "Only, that's what you get when you choose the wrong path,
ain't it?"
"Huh?"
"No big deal," she said. "Vinny's the loser. I'm the
winner.
"My dad's not a loser," Michael said, quickly defending Vinny,
because family was family and he didn't want to come across as
disloyal.
"Have
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