“I only told you because I care about everyone, and I care about Candy's dream.” Peppermint looked at Brad. “I would never hurt a soul. The fella who I fought with was drunker than a skunk. We fought hard with our fists, and then he came at me with an ax. That's the truth of it.”
“Maybe so, but Haley will turn you into a vicious brute if she can.” Brad felt his heart sink. “Who is the man in the coma?”
Peppermint winced. “Well, see, that's the bad part. The fella who is in the coma...well, he's the son ofthe owner of the company I was working for. That's...well, one of the reasons I quit. I was in this area when I quit, too. I guess God had His reason for me to quit because here I am.”
“The owner of the company, who is he?” Brad dared to ask.
Peppermint winced again. “A man who has some heavy connections in the political area. He told me to quit and vanish into the wind or die. I chose to quit and vanish. This little island was the perfect spot to vanish to.”
Candy and Chris looked at each other in a way that clearly said a horrible storm was on the horizon.
Chapter 5
“Ayo, I said what I said.” Ralphie told Peppermint as he tried to focus on the floor television. An old television sitcom calledBarney Millerwas on.
Peppermint rubbed the back of his sore neck and then sat on the edge of his soft bed. “Ralphie, why won't you talk to me? The mafia is after you, and that's serious business.”
Ralphie was sitting in a rocking chair that Peppermint had built with his own hands. He felt like an old lady, but so what? It was snowing cats and dogs outside. The world was cold and cruel. So what if he felt like an old lady sitting in a rocking chair? He was a dead man. What did it matter? “Ayo, Peppermint, my show is on. Give the lip a rest.”
It was clear Ralphie was deflecting. Peppermint knew he had to show some tough love. “If you're not going to talk to me, then maybe I'll call your grandmother!”
Ralphie froze. He looked at Peppermint. “Uh...the old lady…she's not the type that talks to strangers. Besides, her mind is like taffy now.”
“Then maybe I'll call the warden at the prison your cousin is at and see what I can find out.” Peppermint allowed his voice to turn hard.
“Uh, that wouldn't be so smart.”
“Then you better talk to me, Ralphie, because I care about you.” Peppermint narrowed his eyes. “I want answers. Talk to me.”
Ralphie's skinny face twisted into a hard, constipated knot. “Ayo, Peppermint, I...it's like this...a guy knows when to keep his mouth shut. Besides, I'm a dead man...well, I will be if I ever go back to Brooklyn.”
Peppermint saw some cracks appear in Ralphie's defense. Good. “Son, the mafia wouldn't want you dead unless you were a threat. You wouldn't be a threat unless you knew something.”
Ralphie's face turned pale. He began to sweat. “Ayo...” Ralphie tugged at the collar of the black shirt he was wearing. “So, maybe my cousin helped some street guys rob a bank. So, maybe I found out because I overheard them talking in the pizza joint I was working at in Brooklyn, and maybe I made an anonymous phone call to the fuzz. Maybe I felt like I had a civic duty to perform and all that. I...said what I said.”
“I see.” Peppermint folded his arms together. He studied Ralphie's nervous eyes. “Ralphie, you can relax. You're safe. No one is going to hurt you. Look around this bedroom. Your bed is right over there next to the window, a fire is going in the fireplace, the television is playing, and we even have a Christmas tree up. The bedroom is just the way you wanted it. It’s a room that shelters you and offers you the chance to relax, feel safe, and just be yourself.”
Ralphie glanced around. The bedroom did feel warm and safe. But so what? He had told Peppermint he was a dead man only if he went back to Brooklyn, but Ralphie knew, deep down, the mafia wouldn't stop looking for him. “Peppermint, it's likethis. My cousin was no good. He was a bully. He beat me up a few times just for kicks. He was mean, you know.”
“You heard the guy talking about robbing a bank with two other guys and called the cops. You did what was right.”
“It's not like that.” Ralphie had a strained expression on his face again and then stood up. “Peppermint, I called the fuzz because my cousin is the type that will hurt you? I didn't want anyone to get hurt. What if I didn't call the fuzz and someone inside the bank my cousin and his friends were going to rob got hurt or killed? I wouldn't have been able to live with myself.”
“I understand,” Peppermint promised Ralphie. “I would have done the same thing.”
“Where I’m from, when you rat on someone, especially a guy like my cousin, you mark yourself for a bullet. That's why I gave the FBI a hard time. I didn’t say much. But maybe my cousin knew I made the phone call about the robbery. Maybe he wanted to take me down with him.” Ralphie walked over to the window. He pulled back the drape, peered out into a white snowstorm, and then dropped his head. “I thought the matter was dropped when word got out that I didn’t say anything to the FBI. My granny threw me out of her apartment for a week because I gave the FBI a hard time. I slept in the pizza parlor, and word got out.”
“What happened?”
“I didn't get killed,” Ralphie answered. “My boss let me sleep in the pizza parlor. He didn't say much, but his eyes told me he was proud that I gave the FBI a hard time.”
“So why did the mafia want to hurt you?” Peppermint asked.
“Maybe my cousin finally talked his boss into finishing me off as a favor? Who knows?” Ralphie shrugged his shoulders. He slowly turned to face Peppermint. “Peppermint...” Ralphie's voice became shaky and weak, “look at me. I'm a skinny runtwith shaggy hair. I know what I am even though I try to be more in my own mind, but every day the mirror tells the truth.”
“Ralphie—”
Ralphie held up his right hand. “Growing up, I was an easy target. I got beat up a lot. My cousin, he lived right across the hall from me. His old man collected money from people who didn't want trouble...get it?” Unfortunately, Peppermint did get it. “My old man was just as bad, and so was my mother. My granny, she's no saint.”
