Mother Road Ch. 08 - Lost Highway

7:15pm Saturday at Perugia Garrrrrrdens

In Coffeyville, Kansassssss

Mr. Bartolo is quite insisssssstent

You bring your wives and childrennnn

It's a family affair, you seeeeee

Mr. Bartolo will see you thennnnnn."

Having finished singing eight lines of possibly the worst singing telegram ever, the courier bowed, and held out his hand for his tip. I handed him a $20 bill. He pocketed the bill, smiled, saluted, then hopped on his motorcycle. Kicking it to life, he merrily rode away.

"Fucking Sal," Walter muttered, shaking his head, "thinking he's funny after all these years, but he still ain't." I disagreed, but knew better than to argue with my partner. Even after all these years, I picked my battles carefully with my brother-in-law.

That Saturday we decided to carpool and take the Gulf Coast motorhome, the one Sal had generously sent to replace the one burned up during Sonny Harmon's attack. It was the only vehicle big enough to hold four adults -- Walter, Dotty, Laura, and me -- plus five kids: Walter and Dotty's Trent, Jackie, and Athena, and our two, TJ and Ruthie.

I asked Pearl to join us, but she elected to stay home. She had zero interest in spending a boring evening dealing with adult talk and the little kids. Apparently, for an 18-year-old high school senior it would have been worse than the death penalty. Fortunately, her younger brother TJ gladly took up the role of kid-wrangler.

I should add that lately I'd begun to be concerned about TJ. Although only 12, he loved taking care of young children, especially his 4-year-old sister Ruthie. There really was an old soul in his pre-teen body. Ever since he'd proposed to our son Eli's ex-wife Natty on the same night that our other son Lucas had (Lucas prevailed, thankfully), it was like he was set on a fast-track to marriage and fatherhood. I swear, TJ wasn't my son as much as he was my clone.

As for Dotty, she was over the moon about this dinner because Perugia Gardens was the restaurant where Walter had proposed. They'd been regular customers since then on their date nights. Dotty told us the elderly owner, Mama Leone, loved Walter and adored Laura's sister for giving him three beautiful children. Mama was already making wedding plans for Walter's 9-year-old son Trent and her youngest granddaughter Amanda, who was 7.

As we passed through Coffeyville, Walter asked me to park in front of a storefront; the sign hanging over it read, 'Sednicki Jewelers -- Fine Jewelry Since 1953'.

Walter took over, "You guys stay put, Tom and I will just be a minute." I followed him into the shop, more curious than anything. "I ordered some things for Dotty from Sednicki," he said, grinning, "a diamond necklace and matching earrings."

"Sounds nice," I responded, "is it a special occasion?"

"Yeah, this year's our fifth anniversary, so I got her something nice."

We walked in, and there were two men behind the counter, one younger wearing a dark suit, and one older man, wearing a white shirt and a bowtie. Judging by their expressions, they were having a serious disagreement about something.

Walter teasingly called out, "Hey, Sednicki, how about little service for your best customer?"

The younger scowling man turned and barked, "Shop's closed. Come back tomorrow." Walter's eyes narrowed, and he started walking towards the pair. The kid warned, "Are you fucking deaf? I said we was closed!"

In his low, growling voice Walter asked, "Mr. Sednicki, is there a problem?"

I knew that tone; if Walter was using it, it was a sign he was ready to be dangerous. This was seldom ended well for whoever caused it. Sednicki stammered, "Walter, Mr. Mindo here seems to think I owe his employer money."

Walter addressed the younger man, "Who's your employer, Mindo?"

The kid snapped back, "I work for Mr. Bartolo, now get the fuck out!"

Walter responded, "Well, it just so happens I'm about to have dinner with Mr. Bartolo, and I know for a fact that Sednicki don't owe shit. He paid off his debts to Mr. Bartolo years ago."

The young thug turned towards Walter and scowled, trying to intimidate him. Intimidate Walter Connor? Sure, like THAT was ever going to happen. The obviously inexperienced enforcer's voice got louder, as if he was reaching his boiling point, "Oh, yeah? How do you figure that, Mr. Know-It-All?"

Walter very gently pushed back the side of his jacket, exposing the holster that held his Raging Bull 454. "Because I was the guy who used to collect the payments for Mr. Bartolo."

At the sight of Walter's.454, the kid's bravado disappeared. "Who the hell are you?" he asked.

Walter stepped up close to the kid, and spoke softly, "I'm Walter fucking Connor you little piss-ant, and this discussion is now over. Now get the fuck out and don't come back."

The man stepped out from behind the counter to leave, and as he headed for the door, he snapped, "If you're really Walter Connor, you worked for the old guy, Sal Senior. Sal Junior runs things now, I work for him! He ain't gonna be happy you stuck your nose in things."

Walter called after him, "Life's full of fucking disappointments, ain't it?"

The door slammed shut, and Walter turned back to his friend, calm and cheerful as if nothing had happened. "Now, how's about that custom jewelry order, Sednicki?"

The man reached behind the counter and brought out two slim rectangular black velvet boxes. I noticed his hands were shaking; frankly I couldn't blame him. He stammered, "Walter, thank you. I don't know what to do. Sal Junior is demanding protection money now."

As my partner opened the boxes, he told Mr. Sednicki, "That ain't right. This ain't Topeka or Kansas City. Coffeyville is way outside his territory. I'll have a word with Senior."

Walter thanked Sednicki, pocketed the jewelry, and we got back in the motorhome. Due to our encounter with the young enforcer we were running behind schedule, so we were a few minutes late when we walked through the old wooden door of Perugia Gardens.

When we entered there were two large men in black suits standing on either side of the door. Walter greeted them, "Pete, Lou, nice seeing you guys."

One of them, I guessed it was Pete, answered, "Good seeing you, Walter. Ain't been the same without ya."

The place was empty, no tables were occupied. A tiny elderly woman - I assumed this was Momma Leone - came out of the kitchen, saw Walter and rushed to hug him, speaking in rapid-fire Italian. "Walter! È meraviglioso rivederti! And look, you brought your moglie e bambini!" She leaned over and kissed Jackie and Athena on their cheeks. "So beautiful, like their mother!"

Then, she turned to Trent. "And here's the big brother! Such a big strong boy, proprio come suo padre! Trent then reluctantly accepted his allocation of grandmotherly kisses.

Walter introduced Laura and I, "This is Dotty's sister Laura, and her husband Tom."

The little woman's face lit up, and she held a hand to Laura's cheek. "Ah! Che bellezza, come tua sorella! I may have to keep my husband locked up in the kitchen! If he sees these two sisters, he may fall in love with you both!"

Then she made a fuss over Ruthie, hiding behind TJ's legs. "And who is this little fanciulla fatata, eh? Such a tiny beauty!"

Always the protective brother, TJ picked Ruthie up. "This is my baby sister Ruthie, and I'm TJ. She's 4, but she's shy."

"And you, bel fratello maggiore with such a nice suit! You look like your father, but you dress like your Uncle Walter!"

This was actually true -- the suit TJ was wearing came from Walter's tailor. When Walter heard TJ had attempted proposing to Natty, he was impressed. He'd told TJ, "If you're gonna act like a man, you're gonna dress like a man", and took him to get a custom suit made, as well as buying him imported dress shoes. In his tailored suit and patent leather shoes, TJ was now the best dressed 12-year-old in Oklahoma.

A man about my age came out of the kitchen and announced the appetizers were coming out in a minute. Mama walked towards the back, waving for us to follow her. "Mr. Bartolo is in the private dining room, vieni!"

We walked in, and there he was, rising to his feet. Although we'd spoken on the phone many times since, I hadn't seen Quiet Sal in person since the first time I'd met him about a dozen years ago. Walter once told me that for his own safety, Sal usually didn't leave his office for face-to-face meetings. I guess that's how he'd stayed alive as long as he did.

Sal was still tall and thin, although no longer with a ramrod-straight posture; he stood a bit stooped now. His hair was thinning and completely silver now, his face showing a lot more lines than I would have expected. He looked 10 years older than his 68 years.

"Welcome, my friends," he said, walking around the table and shaking hands with Walter and me. Then he looked at our wives. "These must be the beautiful women who make Walter and Tom's lives worth living."

He bent and kissed each of their hands. "I am delighted to meet you at last." Laura and Dotty both nodded and smiled in return. I had to hand it to him, even at 68, Quiet Sal had an elegant way with the ladies.

Then he turned to TJ and Trent. Shaking their hands, he said, "Nice to meet you boys. I'm your Uncle Sal." He took out two $20 bills, tearing them both in half. Two halves he put in his pocket, the other two he gave one each to the boys and winked. "You boys keep these. They're like promises. When you need something serious, you bring the half-bill to your Uncle Sal, whatever it is, I'll take care of it."

Sal then gently patted each of the three girls on the head. "Such wonderful little beauties," he said admiringly, "you two men have been truly blessed." I had to admit, he wasn't wrong.

Sal took his seat. "If you don't mind, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like the children to go into another dining room while we dine and talk. We've got it set up with paper and crayons and games, so they can amuse themselves after they eat." Laura and Dotty nodded, and Mama Leone came in to show them the way. TJ and Trent went first, and their sisters followed.

Mama Leone's son brought out some chianti, pouring each of us a glass. The appetizers were served, and Mama Leone had certainly pulled out all the stops: antipasto, baked ravioli with marinara dipping sauce, mini-meatballs, prosciutto-wrapped asparagus, bruschetta, eggplant caponata, and fried calamari. It was tempting to fill up on those alone, but Walter warned us to go easy because the best was yet to come.

Next came the entrees, served family style: bucatini amatriciana, chicken saltimbocca, fettuccine alfredo, and shrimp diavolo, followed by another round of chianti.

Finally, Mama Leone brought us each a dessert sampler plate with little portions of tiramisu, cannoli, torta caprese, and several miniature biscotti. Her son, meanwhile, brought everyone a hot cappuccino. Sal offered us all glass of port as a chaser; Walter and the women had one, but being the designated driver, I declined.

As we sipped our coffee and nibbled our desserts, I thanked Mr. Bartolo, "This meal was amazing, Sal, thank you." Laura, Dotty, and Walter all nodded in agreement.

"You're very welcome, Tom. Now that you're well fed, I'd like you to indulge me while I tell you a story." It was time for the real reason for our invitation to be revealed.

"As you probably heard, I've retired. I lost my wife Rosalia to colon cancer 12 years ago. My daughter Thea Duarte is married to a nice man, Carlos, who she met while she was attending Columbia. They live in Connecticut, where she's a family therapist, and he's a psychiatrist. My son Sal Junior is taking over the family business. I tried to teach him all I could about being hard to the outside world but being kind to the inside people who work for him, which is how we inspire loyalty. Right, Walter?"

Walter answered quickly and quietly, "Right, Mr. Bartolo."

Sal shook his head, then continued, "Sadly, my son's completely ignored the second part. He's ruthless and hard, much more so than I ever was, and he's that way with everybody. He's also quite ambitious, ignoring territorial boundaries. That will probably cause him some trouble in the future. Friends of ours in the Dallas, Saint Louis, and Little Rock families have been complaining. I've even gotten inquiries from friends of ours in Chicago."

From what little Walter had shared with me through the years, if the Chicago family was making noise, then Sal Jr. was pissing off the wrong people. Walter spoke up, "Yeah, we stopped by Sednicki Jewelers on the way here, and one of your son's collectors, a guy named Mindo, was putting the arm on Sednicki for protection payments. I told the guy Sednicki got square with you a long time ago, and made the guy go away. He wasn't happy, but when I told him who I was, he left."

Sal sighed, shaking his head again. "Fucking Jerry Mindo's nothing but a punk. It's unfortunate you got involved, Walter. I told everybody you was retired, and deliberately kept you out of Kansas City these past few years so nobody would see you as a threat when I handed the business over. I'll talk to Junior and explain you weren't working, you're just a friend of Sednicki's who happened to be in the shop."

Sal took another sip of his port, then resumed his story. "Anyway, let me get to the reason I asked you folks here. I was married to my Rosie for 42 years before I lost her. She gave me two children, bless her soul. Rosie was raised real religious back in Sicily, then after she came to America her parents encouraged her to marry me. She was a beautiful but pious girl; she did her wifely duties only because it was her responsibility to give me children."

Leaning back, Sal folded his hands across his stomach. "Our life could have been much different had she not been taught that sex other than for procreation was sinful. Outside the bedroom, she was a good wife and mother who spent a lot of time doing church work, but after Junior was born, she felt she'd finished doing her duty and insisted on twin beds. She had no more interest in me physically, if you catch my meaning. Like most made guys, eventually I got myself a goomah -- a girlfriend -- on the side, to take care of my personal needs."

Sal held up a picture of himself and young woman, taken at a famous Las Vegas casino named after a certain Roman emperor. She was blonde, slim, and blue-eyed, looking very much like my ex-wife Beverly.

"Her name was Jennifer Walker. She was twenty-eight years younger than me when we met, and I fell hard for her. After a few months together, she got pregnant with twins; my sons David and Delavan. I was still married to Rosie, so I couldn't marry her, but I took care of them as best I could. I set them up in a condominium in Kansas City, and got Jenny a day job cleaning rooms in a small motel I owned after the boys started going to school. She was a hard worker, that girl. She insisted on working to pay me rent, can you believe that shit? But that's the kind of woman she was. Walter used to drive me to see her. He knows..."

Walter nodded in agreement. "Jenny was a sweet lady, always nice to everybody."

Sal went on, "Jenny's dream was for her boys to attend Harvard someday, so I enrolled them in the best prep schools in Kansas City. They're smart like their mother, graduated co-valedictorians at the top of their class. Their Harvard acceptance letters arrived last week. Jenny would have been proud." He stopped and squeezed his eyes shut as if processing a painful memory, then drained his glass of port and refilled it.

"Sorry, I gotta condition, a little chest pains every now and then. It's a bitch getting old." Sal took a deep breath, then resumed his story. "Jenny was hit by a drunk driver last year. She lingered in the hospital for a week, but they couldn't save her. The day before she died, I did what I shoulda done way sooner; I married her in the hospital chapel."

Sal stopped for a moment, looking towards the ceiling; it was obvious how badly he missed her. Sitting between Dotty and Laura, Sal took their hands in his. "Walter, Tom, you married two wonderful women. Remember to count your blessings and cherish what you got every damned day, otherwise you'll end up filled with regrets like me."

I nodded, and Walter spoke for us both. "We hear ya, Mr. Bartolo."

Sal took a cleansing breath, then continued, "My boys have been living in the condo and going to school, graduating next month. I hired an older gal who's like a housemother, she's watching over them. I thought they'd be set until they turned 18 and went away to college. Now, with Sal Junior taking over, he's poking around my books, looking at everything, asking too damned many questions."

A sudden coughing spell stopped Sal for a minute, then he continued.

"I'm afraid it's only a matter of time until Sal Junior finds out about his half-brothers, and knowing him, he ain't gonna like it. I hate to say this about my own flesh and blood, but I'm afraid of what Junior will do when he finds out about them."

Sal Senior stood up now, addressing me and Walter. "I've been alive a long time, some would say too damn long, and they'd be right. I've had a few friends here and there, but most are either dead or doing time in the penitentiary. Now my cardiologist is telling me my heart's giving out." He shook his head. "It's a pisser."

Sal pointed at Walter and I. "The two of you, though, you're strong, smart, and above all, you're fuckin' loyal. Your wives are the same way." He stopped to take a deep breath, then laid it out.

"Here's what I'm askin'; I want you to take over as guardians of my two boys until they turn 18. Take them in and keep them under wraps until they go to college."

Walter, Laura, Dotty, and I exchanged surprised looks. I, for one, did not see that coming, and I don't think the rest of us did either.

Sal went on, "My sons won't be a burden, I promise. I got $4 million in an offshore account set aside for the boys' education. I'll put that money in a trust for them, with Walter and Tom as trustees. I'll also wire another $500,000 directly for living expenses while they're with you. I want my boys hidden and kept safe."

Sal was getting emotional; his eyes were tearing up. It was obvious how much he loved his youngest sons. "My lawyer can handle the paperwork tomorrow if you say yes. I'm sure you can understand, with my health not so good and Sal Junior breathing down my neck, I got a sense of urgency here. I'm sure you'll need some time to think it over, but please make your decision soon."

Laura suddenly stood up, her eyes filled with the protective fore of a mother bear. "There's no need for discussion, Mr. Bartolo, it's settled. The answer is yes."

I recognized that tone - it was the one that meant Laura was NOT fucking around. I'd first time I'd heard it was when we'd taken in Ava's then-girlfriend Ashley, after the girl's parents had thrown her out on a cold winter night for being gay.

The second time I'd seen that fire was when we'd taken poor Natty in after Eli had gotten her pregnant and deserted her. Laura was pregnant herself with our youngest Ruthie at that point, with barely enough strength to stand up; nonetheless, she'd struggled to her feet and made it clear in that same protective mother tone that we'd be taking care of Natty.

Laura's strong maternal drive was a force to be reckoned with, and one of the many things I loved about her. She told Sal, "Get the papers to us as soon as you can. We'll sign. Tom and I will be primary guardians, Walter and Dotty will be secondary. Our place has more space, so your boys will live with us. Lucas and Natty are moving to Clearwater next week for his new job, so we'll have a spare room after that. If you want to send them sooner, we'll make room anyway. Any questions?"