Of Jeweled and Golden Eggs
Title: Of Jeweled and Golden Eggs
Rating: PG-13 for language
Length: 2220 words
Summary: A young man's cousin, in an attempt to get him to toughen up, gets him a job with the mob.
The last thing Tommy said to his girlfriend was, "I love you so much. God, don't forget that." He held her face in his hands and kissed her before he turned abruptly and left the room. Katie ran to the living room window and watched him cut through the crumbling concrete yard before tears blurred her vision and she could no longer make out his shadowy figure. She cleared her eyes but it was too late: he was gone.
* * *
Forgiveness was a thing easily given to Tommy. Everyone knew his dad was a drunk and beat him because everyone could see the evidence on his body. Bruises were dark lakes across his limbs; cigarette burns were the stepping stones between them. He was a quiet kid, a little stupid maybe, but he never set out to bother anyone.
Still, his cousin Paul would have none of his weak-ass bull. Paul had never liked pansies and he could recognize Tommy as being just that. For all that Katie and Tommy's ma said he was "sensitive" and "sweet," Paul knew those were just words chicks used for a guy who could never hold his own in a fight. Not that Paul wanted Tommy to get into fights but, Jesus, he had to man up, didn't he? He couldn't just keep taking this shit from his father, could he? Paul knew that had he been in Tommy's place any of those nights his father came home from work already drunk and pissed off, that old man wouldn't've been able to lay a finger on him. He'd have the man's neck broken before he could get a hit in. All Tommy needed was a little guidance, a little push here and there to really turn into the kind of man who could defend himself and who other guys would like. What guy would like Tommy now? Katie liked him, sure, and he was the goddamn apple of his ma's eye, but those were women and everyone knows how they are.
So one night Paul took his cousin to a friend, who in turn sent them to a bar owned by Big Sal. Big Sal was the kind of man who commanded respect and just the sort of guy Paul knew could help him out with Tommy. They made their way through thick, suffocating cigar smoke to the back room, where Big Sal sat by himself. A glass of scotch and a ledger were on the table in front of him and the lights were dim. The boys stood by the door for a full five minutes before Big Sal waved them over without looking up.
Tommy was sweating like a pig but Paul wouldn't look over at him. He knew that if he did, it would calm Tommy down and that would just help the kid stay as weak as he was. Tommy wasn't gettin' no help from Paul when it came to Big Sal. Helping him now just meant hurting him in the long run.
Big Sal wrote some things down in the ledger before looking up at the two cousins. "Which one of you is Tommy?" he asked.
"I-I-I am," Tommy answered. Stuttered! Fucking stuttered! Paul could have killed him.
"Speak up, Tommy. Talk like a man. I don't like people being nervous around me," Big Sal said. "It makes me nervous too. And I don't like being nervous. So let's try this again. You Tommy?"
Tommy took a deep breath before slowly saying, "Yes, sir, I am."
Big Sal grinned and the boys could see his gold tooth. "Ooh, 'sir,' I like that. I hear you're looking for a bit of part-time work, Tommy."
"Yes, sir," Tommy said.
Big Sal pushed back his seat and stood up, walking unhurriedly to a cabinet pushed against one side of the room. Paul took the opportunity to look the man over. He was middle aged, starting to bald, and on the short side. His thin frame was nearly lost in the expensive suit he wore and for a moment Paul wondered why anyone would call him Big Sal until he remembered who the man actually was.
Sal took a brown paper bag from the cabinet and handed it to Tommy. "I need you to drop this off at a friend's apartment tomorrow night, around nine o'clock. Does that sound simple enough, Tommy?"
"Yes, sir."
"Great," Sal replied. "Just ask the bartender for the address, he'll know what I'm talking about." He grinned and started back toward his seat. The boys turned to leave when he said, "Oh, one more thing."
Tommy, near tears, turned back around. "Yes, sir?"
"Don't look in the bag," Sal said, and pointed a finger carefully at the boy. Tommy nodded before following his cousin out.
* * *
"Bringing one tiny bag to one goddamn apartment. The simplest thing in the world. How could anyone fuck it up? Tell me, Tommy, how could anyone in the world be incapable of bringing one tiny fucking bag to one goddamn apartment? Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you!"
Tommy looked up at his cousin, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his coat. "I ain't never asked you for this job, Pauly. You're the one who said I needed to take it." He paused to wipe his eyes with his clean sleeve. "None of this would've happened if you had just left me alone."
"Left you alone?" Paul echoed. "Left you alone to stay some sniveling, snot-nosed little shit? When you gonna learn to be a man, Tommy? When you gonna learn to take some responsibility for your life?"
Katie, who had gone to the kitchen for tissues, passed the box of Kleenex to her boyfriend. "Shut up, Paul. Tommy wasn't bothering anyone, you're the one who brought him into this. Going to Big Sal, of all people? If anyone should be in shit, it should be you. Tommy was fine on his own."
"Yelling at me ain't gonna fix anything, Katie," Paul said. "Tommy has to fucking man up and go see Big Sal. Get in the goddamn car, Tommy." He grabbed his car keys off the coffee table and made his way to the front door.
Katie grabbed Tommy's arm as he stood to follow his cousin. "Baby, don't go. You don't know what men like Big Sal are like. He's got half the damn town working as his thugs. If he finds out that you lost the bag, he'll---"
Tommy smiled and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. When I start declaring my love for you, then you can worry." He gave her another kiss and pulled away as he heard Paul honk his car's horn. Winking at Katie, he grabbed another tissue to blow his nose and left.
Katie walked to the window and watched Tommy get in Paul's car. Paul pulled out of the yard and turned sharply, nearly hitting a little girl on her bike, but not noticing. The car screeched as they sped along and once they turned the block Katie couldn't see them anymore.
It was late in the afternoon, nearly dusk, but the bar had not yet opened. They had to knock three times before the bartender opened the door for them. Big Sal was sitting in the front, at the largest table, with several other men who did not speak but who watched the boys carefully. Paul made Tommy reveal what had happened and as the boy stuttered through the explanation, Sal sat with his hands folded on the table, his face growing whiter with rage for each word Tommy said. When he was done speaking, Sal stared at him, silent, until Tommy thought he would start crying again.
After what must have been an eternity, Sal said, very slowly, "I don't like to be disappointed, Tommy. I'm a business man, and when the people I rely on to do even simple jobs for me are unable to do so, that not only makes me look bad to my associates, but it also interferes with my work. Mistakes like the one you made cost me money, Tommy, and I don't like to lose money. Is that clear?" Tommy, who did not want to speak, nodded. "Good," Sal continued. "Now, I hear you're a good kid. I usually don't do this, but I'm willing to give you a second chance. I'm in a forgiving mood, I guess." He shot a look at one of the men at the table, who grinned. "Today must really be your lucky day, Tommy."
He nodded at the bartender, who went to the backroom and emerged with a dark red gift box. Sal took the box and opened it, turning it around so that Tommy could see its contents. "I know you ain't the sharpest tool in the shed, but do you know what that is, Tommy?" When the boy shook his head, Sal smirked. "It's a Faberge egg. A jeweler used to make these for the Russian czar. Of course, his were made with real jewels and real gold. This is just a knock off. But you know what, Tommy?" he asked as he closed the box. "Even though it's a knock off, I've grown kind of attached to it, and I would be heartbroken if anything were to happen to it." He handed the box to Tommy, who took it carefully with both hands. "I need someone to drive over to Philly tonight and take this egg, and I'm gonna have you do it, Tommy." When he noticed the boy visibly trembling, Sal smirked again. "Think of it as a way to make up for past mistakes, kid." He pulled a business card out of his suit pocket. "Here's the address. It's real simple, Tommy. Just bring the egg, and you and I can move further along in our business relationship without any trouble." Sal folded his hands back on the table, and turned his head down. His heavy brow cast a shadow over his eyes and Tommy could not tell where he was looking, but he was sure it was at the gift box. "And Tommy? If anything happens to that egg, I'm afraid you and I are gonna have some trouble."
* * *
Katie was still at Tommy's house when they returned to pack Tommy a change of clothes. She watched silently as Paul grabbed Tommy by the neck and told him not to let the gift box out of his sight. She said nothing as Paul told them he was going to his own apartment to pack, and she did not speak as Tommy threw clothes into an old suitcase. It was only when she heard heavy, familiar foot steps on the stairs that she whispered, "Tommy, I think your dad's home."
Before Tommy could respond, his father stumbled into the bedroom. "You little shit," he slurred, his face beat red. "What'd I tell you about having a girl in your room? You think I want bastards running around my house just because your damn slut can't keep her legs closed?"
Knowing his drunken rants well enough, Katie and Tommy were ready to let him speak until he got tired of it and left. But his father spotted the gift box on the bed. It took his eyes a moment to focus, but he pushed Tommy aside as the boy went to grab the box. "What's this?" he asked, and lifted the box in one blubbery hand. Tommy tried to grab it again, but his father elbowed him in the chest sharply. With his free hand, his father opened the box and took out the egg. "What the hell is this shit? You wasting money on useless crap?" And before either of them knew what was happening, Katie and Tommy watched as his father sneered and tossed the egg across the room.
Instinctively, Tommy dove toward the egg, his arm outstretched. He slid a few feet across the floor and his fingers brushed the jeweled and gold-painted exterior of the egg, but it had been tossed too far. It shattered, shards of porcelain flying across the bedroom floor and some white dust that had been inside spilling everywhere.
No longer interested, his father snorted and left. Tommy stayed on the floor, on his belly, until Katie bent down and touched his arm. He stood up sluggishly and stared at the remains of the egg and the dust covering his floor before he ran out of his room, not bothering with the nearly packed suitcase. He ran straight toward the bathroom and threw up noisily.
Katie helped him clean up and together they walked down to the living room, where Tommy's dad had passed out on the couch. They did not look at him.
Tommy told her he loved her; he held her face and kissed her. Katie could not speak, but as she watched him from the living room window, she willed all her love toward him, pushing it like a force field from her body toward the shadows that he had disappeared into, as though that could protect him, as though her love alone would be enough to save him.
Rating: PG-13 for language
Length: 2220 words
Summary: A young man's cousin, in an attempt to get him to toughen up, gets him a job with the mob.
The last thing Tommy said to his girlfriend was, "I love you so much. God, don't forget that." He held her face in his hands and kissed her before he turned abruptly and left the room. Katie ran to the living room window and watched him cut through the crumbling concrete yard before tears blurred her vision and she could no longer make out his shadowy figure. She cleared her eyes but it was too late: he was gone.
* * *
Forgiveness was a thing easily given to Tommy. Everyone knew his dad was a drunk and beat him because everyone could see the evidence on his body. Bruises were dark lakes across his limbs; cigarette burns were the stepping stones between them. He was a quiet kid, a little stupid maybe, but he never set out to bother anyone.
Still, his cousin Paul would have none of his weak-ass bull. Paul had never liked pansies and he could recognize Tommy as being just that. For all that Katie and Tommy's ma said he was "sensitive" and "sweet," Paul knew those were just words chicks used for a guy who could never hold his own in a fight. Not that Paul wanted Tommy to get into fights but, Jesus, he had to man up, didn't he? He couldn't just keep taking this shit from his father, could he? Paul knew that had he been in Tommy's place any of those nights his father came home from work already drunk and pissed off, that old man wouldn't've been able to lay a finger on him. He'd have the man's neck broken before he could get a hit in. All Tommy needed was a little guidance, a little push here and there to really turn into the kind of man who could defend himself and who other guys would like. What guy would like Tommy now? Katie liked him, sure, and he was the goddamn apple of his ma's eye, but those were women and everyone knows how they are.
So one night Paul took his cousin to a friend, who in turn sent them to a bar owned by Big Sal. Big Sal was the kind of man who commanded respect and just the sort of guy Paul knew could help him out with Tommy. They made their way through thick, suffocating cigar smoke to the back room, where Big Sal sat by himself. A glass of scotch and a ledger were on the table in front of him and the lights were dim. The boys stood by the door for a full five minutes before Big Sal waved them over without looking up.
Tommy was sweating like a pig but Paul wouldn't look over at him. He knew that if he did, it would calm Tommy down and that would just help the kid stay as weak as he was. Tommy wasn't gettin' no help from Paul when it came to Big Sal. Helping him now just meant hurting him in the long run.
Big Sal wrote some things down in the ledger before looking up at the two cousins. "Which one of you is Tommy?" he asked.
"I-I-I am," Tommy answered. Stuttered! Fucking stuttered! Paul could have killed him.
"Speak up, Tommy. Talk like a man. I don't like people being nervous around me," Big Sal said. "It makes me nervous too. And I don't like being nervous. So let's try this again. You Tommy?"
Tommy took a deep breath before slowly saying, "Yes, sir, I am."
Big Sal grinned and the boys could see his gold tooth. "Ooh, 'sir,' I like that. I hear you're looking for a bit of part-time work, Tommy."
"Yes, sir," Tommy said.
Big Sal pushed back his seat and stood up, walking unhurriedly to a cabinet pushed against one side of the room. Paul took the opportunity to look the man over. He was middle aged, starting to bald, and on the short side. His thin frame was nearly lost in the expensive suit he wore and for a moment Paul wondered why anyone would call him Big Sal until he remembered who the man actually was.
Sal took a brown paper bag from the cabinet and handed it to Tommy. "I need you to drop this off at a friend's apartment tomorrow night, around nine o'clock. Does that sound simple enough, Tommy?"
"Yes, sir."
"Great," Sal replied. "Just ask the bartender for the address, he'll know what I'm talking about." He grinned and started back toward his seat. The boys turned to leave when he said, "Oh, one more thing."
Tommy, near tears, turned back around. "Yes, sir?"
"Don't look in the bag," Sal said, and pointed a finger carefully at the boy. Tommy nodded before following his cousin out.
* * *
"Bringing one tiny bag to one goddamn apartment. The simplest thing in the world. How could anyone fuck it up? Tell me, Tommy, how could anyone in the world be incapable of bringing one tiny fucking bag to one goddamn apartment? Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you!"
Tommy looked up at his cousin, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his coat. "I ain't never asked you for this job, Pauly. You're the one who said I needed to take it." He paused to wipe his eyes with his clean sleeve. "None of this would've happened if you had just left me alone."
"Left you alone?" Paul echoed. "Left you alone to stay some sniveling, snot-nosed little shit? When you gonna learn to be a man, Tommy? When you gonna learn to take some responsibility for your life?"
Katie, who had gone to the kitchen for tissues, passed the box of Kleenex to her boyfriend. "Shut up, Paul. Tommy wasn't bothering anyone, you're the one who brought him into this. Going to Big Sal, of all people? If anyone should be in shit, it should be you. Tommy was fine on his own."
"Yelling at me ain't gonna fix anything, Katie," Paul said. "Tommy has to fucking man up and go see Big Sal. Get in the goddamn car, Tommy." He grabbed his car keys off the coffee table and made his way to the front door.
Katie grabbed Tommy's arm as he stood to follow his cousin. "Baby, don't go. You don't know what men like Big Sal are like. He's got half the damn town working as his thugs. If he finds out that you lost the bag, he'll---"
Tommy smiled and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. When I start declaring my love for you, then you can worry." He gave her another kiss and pulled away as he heard Paul honk his car's horn. Winking at Katie, he grabbed another tissue to blow his nose and left.
Katie walked to the window and watched Tommy get in Paul's car. Paul pulled out of the yard and turned sharply, nearly hitting a little girl on her bike, but not noticing. The car screeched as they sped along and once they turned the block Katie couldn't see them anymore.
It was late in the afternoon, nearly dusk, but the bar had not yet opened. They had to knock three times before the bartender opened the door for them. Big Sal was sitting in the front, at the largest table, with several other men who did not speak but who watched the boys carefully. Paul made Tommy reveal what had happened and as the boy stuttered through the explanation, Sal sat with his hands folded on the table, his face growing whiter with rage for each word Tommy said. When he was done speaking, Sal stared at him, silent, until Tommy thought he would start crying again.
After what must have been an eternity, Sal said, very slowly, "I don't like to be disappointed, Tommy. I'm a business man, and when the people I rely on to do even simple jobs for me are unable to do so, that not only makes me look bad to my associates, but it also interferes with my work. Mistakes like the one you made cost me money, Tommy, and I don't like to lose money. Is that clear?" Tommy, who did not want to speak, nodded. "Good," Sal continued. "Now, I hear you're a good kid. I usually don't do this, but I'm willing to give you a second chance. I'm in a forgiving mood, I guess." He shot a look at one of the men at the table, who grinned. "Today must really be your lucky day, Tommy."
He nodded at the bartender, who went to the backroom and emerged with a dark red gift box. Sal took the box and opened it, turning it around so that Tommy could see its contents. "I know you ain't the sharpest tool in the shed, but do you know what that is, Tommy?" When the boy shook his head, Sal smirked. "It's a Faberge egg. A jeweler used to make these for the Russian czar. Of course, his were made with real jewels and real gold. This is just a knock off. But you know what, Tommy?" he asked as he closed the box. "Even though it's a knock off, I've grown kind of attached to it, and I would be heartbroken if anything were to happen to it." He handed the box to Tommy, who took it carefully with both hands. "I need someone to drive over to Philly tonight and take this egg, and I'm gonna have you do it, Tommy." When he noticed the boy visibly trembling, Sal smirked again. "Think of it as a way to make up for past mistakes, kid." He pulled a business card out of his suit pocket. "Here's the address. It's real simple, Tommy. Just bring the egg, and you and I can move further along in our business relationship without any trouble." Sal folded his hands back on the table, and turned his head down. His heavy brow cast a shadow over his eyes and Tommy could not tell where he was looking, but he was sure it was at the gift box. "And Tommy? If anything happens to that egg, I'm afraid you and I are gonna have some trouble."
* * *
Katie was still at Tommy's house when they returned to pack Tommy a change of clothes. She watched silently as Paul grabbed Tommy by the neck and told him not to let the gift box out of his sight. She said nothing as Paul told them he was going to his own apartment to pack, and she did not speak as Tommy threw clothes into an old suitcase. It was only when she heard heavy, familiar foot steps on the stairs that she whispered, "Tommy, I think your dad's home."
Before Tommy could respond, his father stumbled into the bedroom. "You little shit," he slurred, his face beat red. "What'd I tell you about having a girl in your room? You think I want bastards running around my house just because your damn slut can't keep her legs closed?"
Knowing his drunken rants well enough, Katie and Tommy were ready to let him speak until he got tired of it and left. But his father spotted the gift box on the bed. It took his eyes a moment to focus, but he pushed Tommy aside as the boy went to grab the box. "What's this?" he asked, and lifted the box in one blubbery hand. Tommy tried to grab it again, but his father elbowed him in the chest sharply. With his free hand, his father opened the box and took out the egg. "What the hell is this shit? You wasting money on useless crap?" And before either of them knew what was happening, Katie and Tommy watched as his father sneered and tossed the egg across the room.
Instinctively, Tommy dove toward the egg, his arm outstretched. He slid a few feet across the floor and his fingers brushed the jeweled and gold-painted exterior of the egg, but it had been tossed too far. It shattered, shards of porcelain flying across the bedroom floor and some white dust that had been inside spilling everywhere.
No longer interested, his father snorted and left. Tommy stayed on the floor, on his belly, until Katie bent down and touched his arm. He stood up sluggishly and stared at the remains of the egg and the dust covering his floor before he ran out of his room, not bothering with the nearly packed suitcase. He ran straight toward the bathroom and threw up noisily.
Katie helped him clean up and together they walked down to the living room, where Tommy's dad had passed out on the couch. They did not look at him.
Tommy told her he loved her; he held her face and kissed her. Katie could not speak, but as she watched him from the living room window, she willed all her love toward him, pushing it like a force field from her body toward the shadows that he had disappeared into, as though that could protect him, as though her love alone would be enough to save him.