A shadow, slick as water, shimmied a fire escape three tall buildings down from the old brownstone and rapidly skimmed the roof tops until landing above it’s target., As sleek as a stalking black cat, it glanced once over the steep side of the building and leapt the clay capping to land silently upon the black iron rails of it’s fire escape. With the only occupied section of the otherwise dormant building on the opposite end, the figure placed a Rockaway Beach, NY. towel over a smudged window and, with a quick, effortless, rap of it’s black gloved hand, caused a section of it’s glass to crumble into the towel with out a sound. Entering the pitch of it’s interior, the shadow became one with it’s conquered subject.

Though times had changed, events remained the same: Seated at five, felt-covered tables, on brown and weathered, bent cane chairs, were a variety of men; from gangsters to local wannabes--wanting to be gangsters and pleased to be in their company-- playing cards! Behind the tables, on stained and peeling papered walls, were pictures of the old country: each a demonstration of fealty, respect, heritage, family, and politics. The room buzzed the racket of a gamblers den:

"Eh, Charley. I'll give you five for six an' a half.

''Go @#$# your self Cheech! That's why they call you Cheech the Fleece... Sal already offered 5 for 6."

"Yea, but where is he?"

Schooled against the walls viewing the action, predatory loan-sharks waited patiently for a potential kill that would line their pockets: "Who would go bust and need cash!" At the head of a large, cash cluttered poker table, by a door with a sign that read "Office Keep Out", was a man dressed in a "Guinea Tee" (sleeveless tee shirt which they call muscle shirts today) and slacks dealing cards to an assortment of men whom were drinking and placing bets--among them... Ball and Jolly. Several other tables were crowded with an assortment of guys engaged in various games...

"Hey, you up or what?" Ball asked Gregory as he raised the bet by throwing another twenty into the huge pot resting on the table.

"The %^%$ is bluffing, he ain’t got a $%^%$%& pair of %^%$&* duces!" Jolly spat.

"HEY! COM ON, DA BETS ON DA TA..."

"CRASH!" ...

Waving the gun around so as to keep the fact of its impotency secret, Joe noticed that Sergio had not budged! Joe was demanding the attention of over thirty Mafia figures and their subjects! The room contained over thirty guns--in the hands of experienced wiseguys whom made a living killing! Yet Sergio had not moved an inch from the counter.

" Sergio, go to the head of the poker table and place your gun at "Mr. Tee’s" head, NOW!!"

Scampering around the counter, Sergio got a hold of his senses and soon had his .25 placed at the back of Tony Black’s head.

Suddenly, the torrid anger boiling for years beneath Joe’s created world frothed to the surface, keeping his impotent revolver pointed up-wards, he began stripping everyone of their guns and cash as he hurled bitter abuse upon their persons: "What you looking at?! Get your #@%$ against the wall... ...yea you, I'm talking to you! YOU PUNK! How long have you--Tony-- ripped off the dreams of so many!? Give me that watch... and the $%^%$#$ rings!...."

"Listen, take what ever you want... but I think your making..."

"DID I ASK YOU TO SPEAK?!!" Screamed Joe as he whacked Tony Black across the mouth with his empty .38.

It was not difficult for him to terrorize them, for each man could see the absolute anger drilling from Joe’s eyes. Even Ball and Jolly remained quiet and subservient: they were sure it would not take much for this raging bull to blow one of them away! Just like those mobster movies he had seen, Joe in fact became the person of the role he was playing....

Scooping all the cash from the tables, Joe ordered his subjects to empty their pockets inside out, strip, and keep facing the walls after they left or their waiting partner would blow them away. Calling Sergio from behind the main poker table--where he had remained, entranced by a performance he could not believe--they backed their way to the cash register.

Opening the door, the duo flew out and down the stairs, jumped into the waiting car, and zoomed away.....

He had revenged himself!!

"Where did you say you got the money from? Jeanette inquired as he laid the money on the table, beaming with pride.

"I won it at the track off of the money I brought with me... it’s yours! Really, I got more!" He repeated, boldly showing another several thousand dollars.

"What track and what race." She asked with a doubtful look.

"I won it, that's all. Listen take the money, you know you need it! I’m gonna head for "Miami"." He lied.

"I don't care where you say you got it. I know it had to come from dishonest means. GOD will punish you, do you understand what I'm saying." She admonished as she swept the money off the table.

He was devastated. He was blown away: "THIS IS NOT RIGHT! THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG HEEEERE! WHY ARE YOU DOOOOING THIS TO ME?" He screamed as he began picking up the money. "GOD DOES NOT EXISTS--IF HE DID, THEN WHY DID WE WIND UP THE WAY WE DID!? HUH! HERE YOU SIT, ACTING LIKE I’M WRONG AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE TAKEN MY LIFE; MY FREEDOM; CAUSED ME TO SUFFER... HELL, YOU DIDN’T EVEN CARE WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ME... DID YOU? WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK STOLE MY BUSINESS IN NEW ORLEANS?... HUH? HERE I AM, RETURNING TO HELP YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME? YOU! AND WHO TOLD ME I COULD NOT COME HOME, HUH? WHO?"

"I... I...I wanted you to..to..to come home... I did.. I swear...It was..."

"See, I told you!"

"Listen, I’ve done the best I could. I’m still..."

Snatching the remaining cash off the floor... "LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING! I ROBBED THE DAMN CARD GAME! TONY’S GAME! THAT’S WHAT I DID! AND I DON’T CARE IF FRANKY OR TONY OR SHORTY OR THOSE COPS OR ANYONE ELSE CARES! I GOT EVEN... OH I WOULD LIKE TO BLOW ALL OF THEIR HEADS OFF... BUT I GOT MINE BACK!" ...Joe stormed out of the house.

Joe could hear Jeanette weeping as he flew down the stairs and ran towards the waiting car and Pauly... "OH GOD, WHY MY FAMILY?" he yelled--so loud, that passers-by, mostly couples lovingly holding hands and smooching as they strolled the block on their way to home and comfort, froze on the spot--their eyes warily following the mad man.

"What the #$@# are you looking at." He screamed at them. Their heads turned away instantly... he jumped in the car and roared off.

The car lurched from the curb with a screech of tires against hard, pitted, black top and zoomed into the filth and grime coated city he awoke to in April of ‘62...

With Pauly as quiet as a tree on a windless day, Joe roared down the road... of deep thought: ‘She refused the money which would have helped her tremendously. Why? Father I wish you were here. I know that it was wrong, but I just did it--it had to be done! I know deep in her heart she loves me... or does she? If she did then...’

Joe was in the worst turmoil of his entire life. Demons screamed in his head. The void holding that tremendous file of facts and thought, the one marked Accident: Personal, heaved it’s compilation of emotions and feelings and angers and questions into the forefront of his mind. Even a Dream Catcher would have stumbled in his attempt to gather all of the pictures and visions and facts and feelings that rushed in painted opinions: ‘Whom should he pray to? Was father in hell? Was there a hell? Was there a GOD! Was he right? Should he have just let the thing go? Was it wrong for the Don to take what had taken Joe four years to get? Was his family right? Was there a curse on his family? Is there really such a thing as a curse? What of hell... was there a hell or was he there already?’ The thoughts of his experience in the semblance of hell sent shivers coursing through his very bones.

"JOE! It’s true! Your back! But listen to me, your Uncle Frank came by. Very angry and excited! I don’t know how he found out where I lived or how I knew you, but he did. He said it is very important that you meet with him...tonight! Something about a problem in Brooklyn last night. What does he mean?" She exclaimed as soon as the door opened and he scramble in.

"I don’t know, honest!" He lied, all the time concentrating on his departure and freedom from a place he was sure he would never return to. "Where did he say to meet him?"

"Down the block from the Queens Borough Plaza Station."

"I’ll go..." Joe suddenly noticed something wrong with Aggie... why, he was so drawn into the circumstances unfolding he simply had not noticed! He had wanted to see Aggie after he visited his mother--he had wanted to invite her to come along! He had just barged in the moment Aggie opened the door and had not noticed...

"Are you pregnant??" A dumfounded Joe asked as he stared at her belly... a belly which was four times too large!

"I was hoping to tell you on a phone before you came over... I waited but..."

"Who is the father?" Joe asked, cutting her off.

"It was an accident, one time and Bang!"

"Who is the father?"

"I was raped.."

"You were what!"

"You see, Jolly Green Giant, the cop... he... he was looking for you... and he kept.. he kept coming by! One night he raped me... Oh! God! He ra.... I couldn’t tell.. I coul... I was frightened... He rap... " Her tears flowed...

Joe’s head was spinning... again--this time so fast the ground seemed to be moving with it! He could not believe it! He simply could not comprehend the world he had been born to! Could it be! Could it be! And then he took his arms--arms that longed to hold someone forever--and wrapped them around Aggie. Holding his own tears and anger inside of him, he comforted her with all of his powers until her sobbing ceased, her emotions washed out by her revelation... one she had fought to hold deep inside... deeper then any Joe had ever had...

Joe had agreed to meet with Frank. He had to. Revenge was more important than money, freedom, or happiness! Joe had to find out the facts and outcome. He had to know how and what to do... his next step would be one that he could not shy from: kill the bastard! Leaving both the car and Pauly waiting ten blocks away, he scurried in the shadows of the night to his rendezvous.

""What the hell were you thinking? Did you think you would get away with it?" He demanded of him as they drove the neighborhood. "Where is Sergio and the money!"

"Uncle Frank, they owed me! They deserved it! They raped Aggie! You gotta help me get..."

"I ain’t gotta do nothing! You just better give the money back... or your in big trouble. In fact your in a bind anyway! Your father would have..."

"Why does everyone bring up father, Huh? How did he die, HUH! Mr. Bianco told me the truth! It was his own friends and relatives who stood by. It was his own friends that set him up! What do you know? You have the..." SMACK! The blow caught him on the cheek as a torrent spewed from Franks lips..."You little $%$#@#%$ who do you think your talking to. I want you..."

Heart pumping, head spinning, gasping and wheezing---as if approaching a heavily defended home plate with two pit bulls chasing him--he rounded the corner in one motion, dropped to the ground, and slid down and under to the presumed safety of a silent, rusting, red Ford.

Finding himself wedged between the cold wet pavement and the hulking remnants of the once proud symbol of the American way of life, Joe felt scared, defeated, and worn out; he fought to control his breathing, which was producing clouds of steam in the cool, spring time, early dawn--sending an SOS that would surely catch the attention of the rapidly advancing beam of light that pierced the darkened street. His vision, impaired by the narrow crease of space between the road and the rocker panel, afforded him a view of four blue legs with black feet, moving not three feet from his hide-out--a surreal, giant pit bull, determined to capture its elusive prey: Ball and Jolly Green Giant approached, leash of light in hand, barking and baying--"We're gonna get you! Com'on out! We know your hiding...come on you little rat!" Holding his breath, heart pounding so hard he swore it could be heard a block away...

Harry, they had had the entire area surrounded: Ball and that rat Jolly... by Franky's command! Joe lay there thinking just how close Jolly was to him! He thought if he only had a gun, he'd get him... Oh yea! He would find some way to get even with Jolly... if only he lived! He would avenge Aggie's pain and suffering! Though he realized he had left Aggie, that he had not talked to her in such a long time... his feelings, his deep, deep, feelings, had remained... almost as if he expected her to be there... always! And she had! Joe remained where he was for four hours until the duo disappeared. Then he slowly made his way to a phone booth to call Pauly... if Pauly had not been discovered! Yes, lots of maybe's.

The train moaned and groaned to a stop at Ditmars Boulevard. Joe exited the car and apprehensively, in stealth, moved along the stairwell. What was he to do? Where was he going to go? He couldn't go to Pauyl's house--his father was connected; Joe was sure the word was on the street! Everyone would be looking for Joe and Sergio! They had no idea Pauly was there... but, what of Nicky D? Would he include himself by informing he had sold the guns to Joe? NO! But where to? He needed a safe place to plan, to wait, to find Pauly and the car to freedom. The only place he could think of was home! He could get Carmine to somehow notify Pauly. Get him him to meet him somewhere! But, he could not let his mother know... Wow, just like the old days... he could hide under the bed for several days without her knowing!

Taking all of the back alleys and byways he wound up at his mothers apartment house. The front door was swarming with police officers. He was in trouble, he had both the law and the criminals out to get him. Waiting in the dark until all but one strategically placed car remained, he climbed a fire escape several apartment houses down the block and silently made his way along the buildings until he came to his mother's building. Climbing over the wall and down to the upper landing of the fire escape that opened into Carmine's new bedroom, he tapped on the window. Carmine's face appeared in the window. With relief, Joe asked him to open the window...

"Carmine open up."

Carmine just stood there..

Carmine, the cops are down there, open up!"

...mute.

""CARMINE WILL YOU PLEASE OPEN THE WINDOW?"

"I can't, I'll get in trouble."

"No you won't--just open the window!"

"I'm telling!"

"Listen, if you open the window I'll give you some money!":

"I don't want nothing."

"OPEN THE DARN WINDOW!!!" He shouted, so loud the cops heard him and began flashing their lights up at him!

Over the roof he went--with the sound of their climbing the fire escape right behind him. He leapt two stories down to the ground and ran as hard as he could. As he turned a corner several blocks away, he tore down the sub-way, jumped the turnstile, ran across several live rails, and like a cowboy in a western movie, jumped aboard a fast moving train headed back towards Queensborough Plaza...

As Soon as he arrived at Queensborough Plaza, he exited the train and searched his brain for Pauly's number. Rolling numbers over and over, he began dialing them until, like a safe cracker on his tenth turn of the dial, he cracked the combination and Pauly's voice came crackling over the line!

"Pauly baby! Pauly! Man am I glad to hear your ugly voice! Listen, grab the car and get your butt over to the Plaza! Don't tell no one and watch your back... you know what I mean!"

"Right! I'll be there on the short and quick! Man, this town is buzzing. I was waiting to get the heck out of here!"

"I'll be where the street ladies hang--in the back!"

As he waited for Pauly, Joe checked the large pockets of his leather jacket for the wads of cash that made them bulge. One part of him wished he had never stolen the money; wished his nightmare would end... the one consuming the little life he had: No peace. No happiness. No family. Worse than that, was the fact that mother had become a word of so much conflict and emotion. Confusion was the order of the day... though he once relished the thought of leaving NY forever with the knowledge of the defeat of his enemies, he now knew they could never be defeated! Yet the thought of Aggie, his princess, and he, her Knight In Shining Armor, demanded sacrifice... but whose? The right thing would be to leave and let the whole thing die down! That he was sure...

Pauly's final arrival halted his thoughts, that is until they drove to a hotel where they would sleep the night away-- at least Pauly would.

The following day, after they ate breakfast, Pauly and Joe drove to get Sergio: he was not at his place--only a dark gray sedan with four guys... they kept going.

After driving to all of the places he might be, Pauly made a last call and lucked out; he discovered where he was hiding out:The Italian Feast!

When Joe heard that he was, of all places, at the feast, he went crazy...

"What, you think we can just go tromping into the feast and not be noticed? What, is he crazy or what? The Italian Feast? It's the worse place to go: the Wiseguy's own it!"

"But Sergio's friend said it was the perfect place to meet", Pauly replied with a shrug of his shoulders, "they would never think we would go there... in fact, it will be so crowded we will be lost in the crowd. Let's just go there and get him and then we can jump in the car and leave for Georgia.. though I'm not sure I realy want to live there!"

"Well, they never saw you. It's my butt not yours..."

"Look, we'll be in and out before any Wiseguy is the wiser!" Pauly laughed at his unintended pun--smug he was right....

The area was blocked off and it seemed the entire Italian community were all crunched into the ten blocks or so that made up the progression route for the celebration of the feast of the Saints. The festive, carnival atmosphere took control of his thoughts and visions. All he could see were colorfully dressed participants jostling for room as they crowded the food concessions that poked out into the streets like so many brightly lit cubes of color and aromas: sausage, fried with tomatoes, onions, garlic and peppers; connolis, freshly made as you waited... his stomach groaned and he grabbed Pauly and they sauntered with heads down-cast to a stand which sold meatball sandwiches. He purchased one and devoured it--along with all his thoughts of why he was there...

And then, above the music filling the air with vibrant sounds of emotion, he heard someone calling his name...

"Hey! Joe! Over here!" Sergio shouted.

As he looked over towards the voice, Joe saw Sergio walking towards him. He was in the process of making rapid motions to tell Sergio to "hurry lets go", when he noticed three vaguely familiar faces on top of huge, muscular bodies roughly shoving people out of their way in a beeline to Sergio. One of them looked over towards him and excitedly grabbed the guy next to him in recognition. At that very moment, the scene of Tony's gaming house came to the fore front of Joe's mind... they were among the wiseguys at the job!

Desperately, Joe snatched Pauly around and pointed as he began yelling and jumping around to notify Sergio of the situation, but Sergio acted like he thought Joe was goofing off... Joe and Pauly started running towards him. Sergio just stood there--joking around while the trio gained several yards in their determination of evil intent...

"Sergio watch out, turn around, there almost behind you! Run! Run! Run!" He shouted at him as he picked up speed--but Sergio, making funny faces, remained where he was awaiting Joe's arrival.

Joe reached him just as the soldiers of the hand were pulling black objects from concealed leather holsters under their jackets.

BLAM! A shot rang out. Then another...

Sergio was hit before he realized death was upon him. Grabbing hold of Sergio's arm, he tripped the guy cosest to them and pulled him along. More shots rang out as Pauly and he ran, jerking side to side in effort to limit themselves as targets. Joe never noticed Pauly grimace and grab his side...

Through the crowd, they pushed and shoved their way, until a pitch black patch between the red bricks of the houses lining the street beckoned escape. Turning into the alleyway's darkness, they were rewarded with a false sense of vision-less safety. His feelings magnified through his fright of death, Joe squinted his eyes in tight cracks in order to keep a rage of threatening tears from bursting the dam; releasing pent-up waters in a flood of a long lost boyhood. With his very breath on fire, he turned his attention to Sergio, whom was steadily weakening in his arms as his life's blood poured with blackness upon a black ground in a black alleyway from his blackened heart. Right at that moment, Joe was faced with another reality: Sergio's blackened soul was doomed to a worse fate than that place he had once visited before...

Finally, pushing him to the ground, he groped for Pauly, whispering his name. No one answered him. As he crawled in the dark he stumbled across another body!

Pauly was dead. He had been hit. Those tears that welled in his eyes, daring to bust forth and drench his soul, were diverted to anger once again! Desperately fighting a need to cry, he burst forth from that alley of shame and death...

It was towards the midnight and he knew his "friends" were home having had dinner with their folks; sleeping in their beds of comfort and dreams... while Pauly and Sergio lay upon the ground, in a filthy alley-way, stone icy cold, no comfort, no dreams: no pulse of the heart informing you that you yet are alive--people walking their dogs stepping over them! Sobbing internally, fear and dread viciously snapping at remnants of his attitude of invincibility, he suddenly realized he had been more than simply lost... he had never been found! Whom was that child so long ago, whom looked upon that liquid encased battle between life and death! He had lived the lives of many dreams... and nightmares. Yes! A series of lives; some which required sleeping in hallways and abandoned cars while the world slept in beds with blankets. Where did he belong? With his family? With the children of the street? In California and hippie land? With Nihanio and Lost Cloud? Bonnie and Clyde? Pigny and Popa Joe? On a trawler; a dairy; pulling dirty old and rundown carpet off floors; painting City Jails; lost in a swamp; in a reform school; a mental hospital; or in his room... condemned to pull that old suit of armor down--over and over!

With an awful shout that reverberated off the ghostly buildings, Joe reached for the gun he had snatched off the ground at the feast and placed it at his head!

"Oh! Lord! Must I die upon these filthy streets? My body to lie so people may walk their dogs over me like my father before me... and his... and Serg's and Pauly's? I did not shoot that man whom killed my friends! I could not take from another what was taken from me! What must I do? Where is the vision I desperately asked for so many times? ARE YOU REAL? DO YOU LIVE LIKE AGGIE SAID? TELL ME OH MY FATHER IN HEAVEN!"

Suddenly, looming in the shadow of his dreaded thoughts, a picture of sanctity, of cleansing powers, of hope and love... the strongest he had known in his life... a love of forgiveness swept clean his profane thoughts and he looked up to see the place that offered refuge so many times before: The Immaculate Conception Church. He knew he had to stop, that he must stop, even if only to say a prayer for those in the other place... a place one never returned from!

Though it was past midnight, the doors were wide open... beckoning. He mounted the warm, white stone steps and looked hesitantly into the sanctuary with hope; wishing the old priest whom scolded them back when he robbed the poor boxes would appear and offer comfort to his tired mind. As he entered, a soft, gentle breeze brushed the alter--causing candles to flicker in the darkness like the many stars which had lit the night skys in Pennsylvania; twinkling in hypnotic gesture, beckoning further entry...

The Saints stood perched upon their thrones, silently viewing his every move, patiently waiting for him to defile their sanctuary. He walked into the chapel, made a sign of the cross, and proceeded quietly down the long lane between the ornate benches on either side. When he reached the black, wrought iron railing that separated the alter--with it's huge Christ Crucifixion--from the Cathedral, he knelt upon the red, velvet lined knee board and felt like crying. He some how KNEW that crying would begin the process of cleansing his heart and soul... and show his sorrow and penitence, but his attitude--or the evil internally battling for domination--demanded otherwise... "Blasphemies.... Blasphemies.. SCREAM BLASPHEMIES" IT DEMANDED! Twisting, tearing, his anger welled to his throat, choking him with it's intensity: "Why!?" He asked out loud. "Why did you take my father!? What did they do to you, What! Now look what's happened! Why did you allow my father to be murdered? Why did you take him!"

A voice abruptly startled him ... the words interrupting all thought ... loud and clear... the chapel reverberating with the Lord's resounding voice: "I AM YOUR FATHER!"... He was dumb-struck...

The words continued... "Jesus said that! Yes, my son, those were the words of Jesus. He declared for you. He died for you. He said he was our Father. FATHER TO ALL HIS CHILDREN! So, he did not take your earthly father for he is your Father!"

He turned just as a priest swept down the aisle in his black, flowing robes.

"What do you know? Huh?" Joe whined at him. "You all say things which are not true! Where is He now? Why don't He come down and get rid of our problems? Why don't He do something?"

The priest put his arms around Joe's shoulders to comfort him. He told him a story Joe had heard many times before: the story of their Saviors last days on earth. He explained His last words and then he asked Joe if his troubles were as bad as His.

Joe did not answer him. He felt so bad. He had taken His love and help and stepped all over Him. It was then that the priest said: "Sometimes you must put aside your anger and let love into your heart. You have plenty of time to find your place and the reasons to His will. Don't you worry. Take the time to study all those around you and you will discover many things. If you desire HIS intervention you must pray and leave your ways... leave your ways! Leave this CITY!"

The priest asked if Joe needed a place of refuge for a few days...

Joe informed him he did not and that he was fine. He thanked him and he left... his mind twisting within it's confusion: the priest had shared his love and patience at just the precise time he needed it... just like all of the other times... yet what about the world outside; the dead and the living; the pain and the sacrifice; the lost and the found. And what of his father? Had he lived, how different would his life truly have been.... A thought crossed his mind: "Would he have grown up like Tony Black? The sorrow was something he knew he would never forget: father and his last day on earth; his experiences thus far; his friends death; the fact that he continued to place blame on his mother.... when would it end?

Joe sat alone on a hard plastic seat in an empty car of the Queens express... one of his hands stained with the blood of Sergio and Pauly, the other holding a sack he had placed the money in--money he had been so determined to reap on the justification of revenge; of honor; of father and mother; of hate; on the pretext that life was going to be different... DEATH became the reaper of change; death had become the difference in his life once again--only this time, it was his fault!

"Oh Lord..." He cried internally. "What have I done... I have killed someone's love and caused the death of others!"

Those tears that had welled within his eyes so many times, threatening to flow and release the agony of his heart, were released internally... rage erupted from within. He could not wash away his guilt. Oh! The agony of desperately wanting to cry and wash away his guilt, his sorrow, his impotency, yes Harry, his inadequacy to rectify his situation. His guilt was not of self-pity... it was of loss--both his and theirs! He did not know Sergio as a brother or as a long time friend, but he had known him as a human being with hopes, dreams, and a life as hard as his. And Pauly? Pauly had been his only friend; his only true brother! He continued to hold his tears in check until he could not hold out any longer... they were consuming his very being...