The sun had been up for a couple of hours as I cruised down Forest Avenue, passing the Hess Station. A sale sign was on a tower of oil cans, giving me the all clear signal.
I made a U-turn into the station, brushed my hair and hopped out, “Hey bro, top it off, hi-test”, I pulled out my bic lighter, lit a cigarette and walked to the back of the building.
After straightening my shirt, I gave the door three rapid knocks and it swung open. Tony scanned the area,
“Hey kid, any trouble?”
“Nah.”
“Good, let’s move it.”
I hopped back in the car and pulled under an opening garage door.
The door slammed shut behind me and three goons quickly began unloading my cargo, spreading the contents into two cars that pulled out of the garage before I got out of the bathroom.
I lit another smoke, “Where’s my Unc?”
“Lou’s not in yet.”
Uncle Louie wasn’t really my uncle, he was my mom’s cousin but I grew up calling him uncle, “Still Home?”
“Yeah, the boss wasn’t feelin’ too good, sore throat or something.”
The Bagel Express truck was being worked on, “Getting the van ready?”
“Yeah, changing the oil and plugs.”
“Isn’t it early?”
“Yeah, Josephine called said they may be going down and you know how he’s gotta have his bread.”
I nodded, I really did know. I loved my bread and had to hand to Louie, he found a way to get fresh Brooklyn bread a couple of times a week and make a few bucks along the way by supplying stores near his Boca Raton home.
“What about my dough?”
“Angie’s got it. He’s in the back.”
“Hope he didn’t eat it.”
“Watch yourself Tommy, one day you’re gonna get it.”
“What’s he gonna do sit on me?” I snickered as I nodded to one of new faces around. “This Russian seems like he’s always around now.”
“Yeah, the boss and Yuri doing more business together.”
I headed to get my pay for the run from Angelo, who was really fat and slicked his jet black hair back with enough gel to grease an engine. He was at a round table reading a newspaper whose headline shouted the capture of the Son of Sam killer.
“Yo Tubby, you got somethin’ for me?”
He fingered a bat leaning against the table, “Yeah, right here you little motherfucker.”
“Temper, temper tubs.”
He got up as quickly as I ever saw him move and as I backed up, he broke into an evil smile, “Ya just a fuckin’ mouthpiece, you little punk.”
He waddled over to my Uncle’s desk and dug out an envelope,
“Come and get it wise guy.” He held the envelope against his protruding belly and as I reached for it he grabbed my wrist.
“Let go you fucking ape!”
“One of these days, kid.” He tossed the envelope on the ground and I scooped it up,
“Adios, you fat bastard.”
I counted twenty, crisp hundred dollar bills,
“Hey, this is light! You step on it?”
“I should’ve punk; the boss took five out to knock your tab down.”
“That’s fucking bullshit man!”
“Go cry to Louie you degenerate.”