Fanfic Friday – “Sonny”

8 Jun

I woke up that morning at six when Alfonso kicked me in the gut. Hell of an alarm clock.

I rolled off the mattress and hunched on all fours for a minute, trying to catch my breath. I could hear the sonofabitch laughing as he walked around the room, gracing all the other buttons with the same gentle greeting, saying the call had come in from the Big B. There were moans and gouts of vicious profanity, but we all got up.

Two hours later we were sitting around the table, all twelve of us, eating Frank’s linguine with the leftover gravy from last night. Alfonso sat over on the broke-ass piano, tinkling out some Old Country tune. I watched Giuseppe, the fat bastard, stuff his wobbling face until the red dribbled down his chin. I couldn’t eat that way, especially something as heavy as pasta. Especially before a job.

A week and two days since we went to the mattresses. Playing cards, listening to the radio, sitting on our asses. Looking around, these mugs didn’t seem happy at all to be up and about. Me, I was just glad we were doing something.

We got dressed, the traditional button-black pinstripes. It was hard to believe that Santino’s number was up. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit nervous – I heard the stories about him. I was the one who answered the door when Carlo came to see us, his face so busted-up and purple he looked like a Christmas ham. Sonny was a monster. I wondered how it would play out.

We took a moment before leaving to check the guns, sliding back the bolts, making sure the drums were full. It reminded me of my army days, the order, the precision, the discipline. Felt good. Then Giuseppe belched, the boys laughed, and I realized how much I hated that fat prick.

The causeway was the spot. A few buttons would go ahead and wait, while me and the rest would ride to block Santino. Alfonso had this big plan, and he made sure we knew it was our ass if anything went wrong. He got in the driver’s seat, and I sat next to him.

We got going and Alfonso turned on the radio, some Kay Kyser joint that had a rootin’-tootin’ cowboy sort of sound. Made me feel like we were a posse, heading out on the trail to nab some hoodlum. I was glad, because I was having a hard time keeping my hands from shaking.

Alfonso had to pull a sudden u-turn when he spotted the car, but somehow Sonny didn’t notice. My guess was, he was seeing red, on his way to visit Carlo again. Shit. We pulled ahead of him.

We reached the causeway toll booth, and as Alfonso mimed handing over some money, I checked to see if the boys were in place. They were. Alfonso jumped on the handbrake, and my mind went blank.

I stepped out of the car and saw Santino Corleone look me dead in the eye. I raised up my Thompson, and pulled the trigger.

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