Day Twenty Seven
Sophia didn’t feel like she was in the Mafia. She
didn’t feel like she was doing anything at all. Day after day since she had
joined her father’s organization, she had sat behind a desk pretending to be
an analyst’s assistant in a trade office she didn’t want to be in. This is
what she had planned to do with her life when she first went to university, but
sitting here now it was dead boring compared to what she’d ultimately decided
on. Or what she thought being in the Mob would be like.
She had sat here every
day for the better part of a month waiting for the phone to ring and to hear
Benny’s voice, but the few calls she got were from her father, asking how she
was settling in. She was starting to think she’d been had, and that her father
had just said yes to her joining the Family in order to keep her quiet and set
her up with a legitimate job. But on the other hand, she’d done nothing at the
office either. She had no idea what was going on, and every time she tried to
corner her father to ask about it, he had managed to avoid answering her. She
didn’t like it at all. Perhaps that was what her father had in mind—bore
her to the point where she’d give up. Well, she wasn’t going to. She
wasn’t even halfway through her ‘probation period,’ and if that was up
before anything actually happened, she’d sure as hell ask for another two
months, that was for sure.
She was about to go outside for another one of her
many cigarette breaks when the phone rang.
“Sophia, it’s Benny.”
“Hey,” she answered with disinterest, “are you
ringing to check I’m here?”
“No, I’m ringing because I have a job for you.”
Sophia nearly fell out of her chair. “You’ve got
to be kidding,” her voice cracked a little as she tried to keep it down.
“No, that’s what you’re doing isn’t it,
working for me?”
“Well, I wasn’t quite sure to tell you the truth.
I hadn’t heard anything, so I thought you were brushing me off.”
“Easing you in, remember? Part of that was to have
you at the cover job for a while without any interruptions …”
“A while? It’s been nearly a month, Benny.”
“Easing you in, I said. Now listen, do you have a
pen?” Sophia fumbled around the desk, found one, then scribbled down an
address that Benny gave to her. “Okay, I need you to go and pick up a payment.
The guy knows you’re coming; there shouldn’t be any trouble. If it looks
like there is going to be trouble, turn around and walk away; let me know and
I’ll get it sorted. Okay?”
“Sure.”
“I mean it. If it even looks like he’s going to give you lip, walk away and call me,
alright?”
“Yes. I said yes.” She hung up and rushed out the
door, eager for her new job to truly begin. As she jumped into her car, her
heart pounded up into her throat. She craved a cigarette but thought better of
it, as she decided to concentrate on her driving instead. She cursed at the sweat
that collected on her palms, and tried to will it to stop. The guy she was going
to see probably didn’t know this was her first time out, and she didn’t want
to give it away.
She circled the block three times before she came to a
stop outside a nondescript two-story terrace house. She checked the address on
the piece of paper once more before she even turned her engine off, then wiped
her palms on her trousers before standing outside and peering up at the
house’s crumbling façade. It wasn’t run down exactly, but it didn’t look
like the sort of place that housed the types who could afford the promises of
the Mob either. At the same time, she had a lot to learn, so how was she
supposed to tell what kind of people were inside just by looking at the front
door? She tried to drive out any preconceptions or fears, smoothed down her
shirt and knocked on the door. There was silence for a moment, so she knocked
again.
At last the door opened a crack, and half of an
unshaven face peered out at her.
“Are you Benny’s guy?”
“Something like that,” Sophia croaked, then
cleared her throat, “yes I am. Are you going to let me in?”
“Have you got a piece on you?”
“No.”
The face looked her up and down, cocked an eyebrow,
then opened the door a little more, just wide enough so she could squeeze in.
Sophia’s heart pumped faster as she entered, the unfamiliar scents sending a
signal to her body that she shouldn’t be here. She tried to ignore it as she
slipped past the man at the door and went a couple of steps into the room.
No sooner had the door closed, Sophia stopped dead as
she felt the cold press of steel against the side of her head. She tried to
speak but couldn’t. Her words wouldn’t have been heard over the sound of the
blood rushing around her veins anyway. She resigned herself to standing still,
and waited to die as unknown hands brushed over her body without a word.
Then, before she realized, the gun was gone. The man
stood in front of her and handed her an envelope without saying anything.
Instead of holding out her hand to take it, Sophia opened her mouth instead.
“Tell me why it is you’re allowed to have a gun
and I’m not?” The man didn’t answer her. “What if I had happened to have
one on me? Would you have shot me in the head there and then? What exactly is
the deal there?”
Sophia couldn’t believe what she was doing—just
a moment ago this guy would have killed her for little else than having a weapon
on her; now she was baiting him. But she couldn’t stop herself.
“Are you going to answer me?”
“Are you going to take the money?” His voice
rasped back at her.
Sophia’s mouth closed at last as she became aware of
the envelope again. Take it and leave,
she told herself. She held her hand out and took the envelope. She saw that it
wasn’t sealed, so she went through the motions that she had seen her bosses
do, just to look like she knew what she was doing—she opened up, flicked
through the notes and nodded. She turned for the door, and as she was halfway
out, the man said to her, “I wouldn’t have killed you. Just gotta check.”
Sophia turned to him, somewhat startled that he
answered her question at last. She saw him flinch a little as she smiled in
response. There was something about her that scared him. She had no clue what it
was, but she took hold of the moment and aped her father’s inflections
perfectly as she answered, “Good, ‘cause if you did, I’d have to kill you
back.”
She slipped out the door and into her car. The fearful
rush of blood that she felt before had changed. The blood still pumped through
her at a hundred miles an hour, but this time it felt good.
She slipped on her shades and drove off, into her new
life that was meant to be.
© Cynthia M. Piromalli
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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