He wasn’t even listening to her. He ordered me to get in the car in Italian. She screamed at me not to leave her.
I stood, thinking about my options.
Luca met my eye. “I will not take you from your crazed mother,” he said in Italian. “Get in the car.”
He wouldn’t say it again. And his word was as good as his blood.
Ma screamed at me not to go as I left—and then she screamed even louder, “Men who take and destroy just because they can always get what they deserve!”
Going back out into the cold again, I hopped in the car, shutting the door, waiting to see what was going to happen next. The engine was running in the car parked behind Luca’s. Through the mirror I saw the Italians. Luca led them here. I recognized one of my uncles.
I shook my head. Stupid-Ass was probably going to lose his heart tonight. Then I swallowed hard.He’s taking me to watch.
“A man is not a man until he has watched a man live and also die,”he had once told me.
A minute later, I saw Ma on the porch, on her knees, crying. She wasn’t crying for the guy, but for me. She kept screaming out my name. If she were thinking straight, she’d know the truth. Luca wasn’t taking me. He gave his word.
Maybe she was crying because she knew what she had done. She had sent this guy on his death walk, and I’d be there to watch as he took his last breath. I’d become a man tonight in my father’s eyes.
Luca had the man by his collar again, dragging him to the car. He was fighting, but not much. More like trying to twist out of his hold. Another minute later, he was thrown into the back seat, the door shutting with a final soft click.
“Listen,” the guy got out in a rush. “Please. Don’t let him do this. I—I made a mistake, all right? I never touched your mom—not much. I was going to. Oh God.” He closed his eyes, slapped his forehead, and shook his head. “Biggest mistake of my life. I have a kid, all right? A little girl, a little younger than you—can you—talk him out of it? My name is Justin Kirk. I have a name! Just like you. Fausti.” He made a noise that sounded like a sob. “Fausti. God help me.”
Stop begging,I almost said, but didn’t. Begging would only piss Luca off more. It was starting to irritate me. Maybe if this stupid ass would stop whining like a child, Luca would have mercy on him—some, anyway.
Luca opened the driver’s side door, slid in, and then pulled away from the curb. The entire time, the man talked and talked and talked. Begged and begged and begged. Cursed and cursed and cursed. Prayed and prayed and prayed.
“God,” Luca said in Italian, repeating what the man had just said. “Only God will be able to help you. Make peace now.” Then he said no more.
* * *
I wondered if he was going to squeal like the pigs. They were running around in mud, the smell of their shit strong in my nose, and screaming like a bunch of girls on the playground.
Luca took the man to a slaughterhouse.
As we passed one stall, one humungous pig ran after a smaller one. Catching her, he got on her back and started moving.
“Fitting,” Luca said in Italian.
The man made another one of those noises.
Luca’s jaw tensed. He was getting sick of this guy’s whiney attitude. “This,” Luca said. “This—after me.”
“Look, man—I mean,sir,” the guy said. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. I had no idea,no cluewho you were—” he sniffed up dripping snot “—or that I was going home with your woman. I won’t touch her again! I mean—I didn’t! Not really. So no offense! It was premeditated but nothing happened! It didn’t get that far. I had to take a piss before—and then the kid came in and—”
“Your wife’s name,” Luca said.
“Tabatha. Tabatha Kirk. Tell her! Ruin my life! I deserve it.”
Luca ordered me to translate for him. “Is that what you deserve, Justin Kirk?” Luca made a face at his name. It was too plain for him. Boring.“For touching what is sacred to another man?”
I repeated his words in English.
“My wife and her mother are horrible. They’ll kick my ass to kingdom come! You have no idea how awful they are. What they’ll put me through. They’ll probably kill me!” Then he laughed, but it didn’t sound right. It still sounded like a sob.
Luca forced him into an area of the slaughterhouse that had wooden walls and two chairs. It had a rickety gate that held in a few pigs. They were running around, making pig noises, their curly tales moving constantly. The smell of blood was strong in the air. It tasted like a penny on my tongue. Luca made Justin sit. Justin watched Luca like Ma watched a snake in the yard, right before she called me to come and get it. She didn’t mind spiders, but she drew the line at snakes. She called them an omen.
Justin didn’t notice them, but I did. The Italians. They were standing right outside of the door, four shadows that seemed to make the night even darker.
