Eleven

I probably should have charged out into the street, chased Sal down, and made him explain himself about Cathy Byrd’s whoredom. Instead, I stayed rooted in my seat. My older cousin scared me. Whenever I saw him, I reverted to being a six-year-old kid at holiday dinners, with Sal at the adult table and me at the little table with the plastic dishes.

I asked the barista, “What do we owe you?”

He said, “Don’t worry about it, Sal has a tab.”

I dug two dollars out of my wallet and put it on the table as a tip. Then I left the cafe and turned right toward Cross Street. I worked my way down Cross, over Salem, and into the produce store. I had a buddy there who got me the best produce.

“Tucker!” said Ralph. “What are we cooking tonight?”

“Ratatouille,” I said.

“Dinner for one?” asked Ralph as he picked among the eggplants.

“Nope. Two this time. I’ve got a date.”

“Good for you!” He hefted an eggplant. “Then this is a good size.”

Ralph rooted among his vegetables, choosing green peppers, tomatoes, and the other ingredients of the dish and placing them into a paper bag.

“I was just visiting with my cousin,” I said.

“Yeah? Who’s your cousin?”

“His name is Sal Rizzo. Do you know him?”

Ralph placed the paper bag on the counter and said, “What do you mean ‘Do I know him?’ Of course I know him. I didn’t know you were Sal’s cousin. I’ll have to start treating you with more respect.”

“What are you taking about, Ralph? You treat me with plenty of respect.”

“Yeah, well, you know. There’s respect and then there’s respect, capisce?”

I took the bag. “I guess. How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house.”

“No, seriously, Ralph, how much?”

Ralph waved me off, both hands in the air. “No. No. It’s my gift to you. For your date tonight.” He turned and started helping another customer.

The bag of vegetables rested heavy in my arms as I left the store and ducked into Maria’s Pastry next store. I bought two cannoli and put them in the bag with the vegetables. I didn’t say a word, didn’t mention that my cousin was Sal Rizzo. I hustled out of the store, across the park that was once the Big Dig, and into Government Center.

It was time to visit the FBI.