Joey Gallo's Lament

Joey stood on the corner of Union and Bond. He looked around to see who was out. Not a soul to be seen. He scanned the windows of all the houses in sight. No old women hanging out the window watching the world go by. All the blinds were down. Except for one window covered with the Daily News. Junkies. Or Beatniks. No one was in sight.

He took the cylinder of the thirty eight and threw it down the sewer. It fit easily down the drain. He walked down Nevins to the Carroll St Bridge over the Canal. It was just as deserted. He looked both ways but there was no action. He took the rest of the piece and put it in a burlap sack. Picked up a rock from the side of the road. Broken piece of pavement. It was all fucked up down here. The city never did any maintenance. Why would they. They thought South Brooklyn was a slum. Full of guineas and micks and now they were getting spics from the PR. Not what the classy people thought of as humans even. Joey took the rock and put it in the sack with the guts of the gat and tied the end in a knot. He tossed it off the bridge into the Canal. It bounced twice on the water. Then it sunk down. That was how filthy the water was down there. It wasn’t only Jesus that could walk on water on the Gowanus Canal.

Joey walked briskly over the bridge till he got to Montes. He nodded to the mook sitting on a kitchen chair at the small parking lot. He was the half a retard cousin of the owner.  Kid was sitting with his hand down his pants playing with pepino. Thank God he wasn’t driving. He had to remember to not take his caddy here.

Inside the restaurant it was dark with the lights turned low and candles flicking on the table. It was a classy joint. Red checkered tablecloths with candles in Chianti bottles on every four top. He saw them sitting in the booth and walked over.

“Hey how you doing” he said. The Snake and Apples looked up from the plates of mussels they were devouring. “Hey Ubatz what the fuck you doing here?” said the Snake. He was named right for fucks sake. He was lean but very muscular. He didn’t look like a Snake. He was called that because he was as treacherous as one. Apples was a big beefy Irishman who would beat you to death as soon as look at you. Both hard men. Both of them were wary of Joey. You never knew what a Crazy man would do.

“I wanted to talk to you” said Joey. “I know we been talking about old man Profaci kicking back more dough. We been working our ass off and he is taking all the cream. He is never on the streets. When was the last time you saw him. He doesn’t even go to his olive oil company anymore. I mean who knows if the fuck is even alive. We could be kicking up to a corpse and his bug eyed fuckin’ cousin is spending our money and laughing up his sleeve.”

“So what do want to do about it” asked the Snake. He looked at Apples. “The man wants to talk to the boss when he knows the boss hates his balls so much that if he could get away with he would cut them off and feed them to his fucking dog. Sometimes it’s best to stay out of it. Until you get the call. Like they did with the Mad Hatter.”

“Yeah well who the fuck wants to wait for that. It might not happen. The little man ain’t going against one of the originals. We are on our fucking own here.”

“No cuszine you are on your own. We ain’t doing shit without putting it on the books. That is just the way it is. Right Apples?” The beefy Irishman just grunted and kept eating.

“Well at least I know where you stand. Just stay out of my way. I telling ya. Stay on this side of the Canal and mind your business, capice piasan?”

“Sure whateva you say Joey. Whateva you say. Want some food?”

“No thanks. See you around. Oh and Apples.” The big man looked up. “You are one fat fucking Mick. You don’t stop eating like a fuckin pig you gonna catch a heart attack.” Hate blazed in the big boys eyes. He put his hands on the table to brace himself and push the table away from the booth. Crazy Joe picked up a fork and plunged it through his hand and pinned them to the table.

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU CRAZY FUCKIN FUCK” 

Joey slowly backed out of the restaurant with his hand in his jacket. It was chaos. Apples was cursing and prying his hand off the table and the Snake was staring at Crazy Joe and shaking his head. The waiters were running over with a towel and some ice.

“Fuckin Ubatz” said the Snake. “FUCKIN UBATZ!”