Two-Liter Wishes and Large Pizza Dreams

The sun beat down on the crowd at the town’s annual Memorial Day festivities. The streets teamed with dirty children and sweaty parents. Everyone was here for a reason. Even Mike.

He didn’t want to be seen or noticed and thought the park would be the best place for both.

Vinny had been chasing him all morning. All he had done was punch a man. Just one man.

Earlier in the day Mike had tempted fate and won. But now that didn’t matter. All he was worried about was a place to hide. Out in the open was that place right now.

It all started with an innocent nap.

********

Mike was asleep. That’s the best he could do considering he stayed awake until about three the morning before. He was lying on his favorite chair. The television was on, but he was not watching it.

I hope I don’t miss my pizza when it comes. Oh well, I guess sleep wins this time.

Ring. What’s that?

Ring. There it is again. What is that?

Mike cracked open his drowsy eyes. Then looked around the fuzzy room. “What’s that noise?”

Ring. It came from the television.

Mike shook his head in disgust. Awakened by some stupid show trying to be real. Some kid’s sleeping on his couch. His mom’s on the other end of the line hoping he’ll wake and answer.

“Stupid television.”

Mike picked up the remote. The volume was too loud acting as a flickering blue-screened alarm. He stood, stretched his arms, and rubbed his eyes.

Mikes mouth was gummy with afternoon nap breath. He walked into the kitchen to find a drink.

The phone on the end table rang. Mike thought it kind of surprising and ironic. Mike knew it was not his mother. He went back into the living room.

Ring.

“Yeah, coming,” Mike said, knowing the person on the other end couldn’t hear him.

Ring. Phones can be so impatient.

“Hello?” he mumbled. Speech was hard. Waking will sometimes do that.

“Yeah, is this Mike?” The voice was raspy. Almost like Robert DeNiro in any mob movie.

“Yeah, who is this?”

“Don’t worry about who dis is. I’m calling to let you know you’re overdue on your payments.”

“One-eight-hundred call collect, for the best savings...” the television blared.

“Payments?” he asked. “Is this the phone company?”

“No, dis ain’t the friggin phone company.” His voice was loud, too loud to be the phone company. Besides they only call if you choose someone else’s company for service.

“Alls I want to know is where da money is.”

Surprise, a prank call. “Oh, the money,” he said, knowing this kid could never outwit him. “Well, I might have it. It depends on who this is.”

“It doesn’t matter who dis is. I said dat before. Now alls I want to know is if we’re gonna see da money or not.”

The accent was fake. He was trying to sound like he was from New York, but Mike had watched enough movies and television to know a fake accent. This one was not close to real.

“Listen,” Mike said knowing there would be no retaliation to his joking, “I don’t care ‘who dis is.’ I don’t owe you a dime. If you kids call again, I’ll call the cops.”

Mike hung up and sat down. Tiring conversation.

The day was bright. The afternoon sun was just at the level to peek through the hole in the blinds and shine right into his eyes. Mike was too agitated to sit still. Since sleep was impossible, he picked up the remote and changed the channel.

The television flickered an overplayed commercial for a local pizza joint, Pizza Barn. They were an odd company with the slogan “We’ll mooove right on it!” They said it after an order was placed.

Mike put his hand on his growling stomach.

He looked over at the clock. He had missed his pizza. It had been three hours since he ordered it. “Three hours late. I can taste the discounted pizza now.” Mike picked up the phone.

He dialed the jingle memorized number. He practiced his speech before they answered.

A squeaky voice answered, “Pizza Barn. Mooove over to the best pizza in town. Joey speaking.” His voice cracked at awkward places. The kid sounded too nice. Mike decided against discounted pizza. It was a shame free pizza came out of their paychecks. If the kid had just sounded a little older he may have tried it.

“Hi Joey. You have any specials today?” Mike knew the answer, but wanted to make him feel as though he was doing his job.

“Yes sir.” His voice cracked again. “We have a special deal if you buy a large, then you get a second large at half price.” Mike could tell he was unable to contain his excitement about this fantastic offer.

“That sounds great. I’ll have two larges. One pepperoni and one Italian sausage.”

Unknown to Mike, someone was trying to call at that same time. Too bad. Busy.

“Will there be anything else?”

The television flickered a Coke commercial disguised as a music video. The commercial made Mike’s mouth water.

“Yeah, do you have Coke or Pepsi?”

“Coke, sir.” Crack.

“That’s great, I’ll take a two liter then.”

“Ok sir.” Crack.

“That’s two large pizza’s and two Cokes. We’ll moo...”

Mike interrupted. “No that’s one, two liter.”

“Oh, sorry. Two large pizza’s and one two liter. We’ll moove right on it.” Again he didn’t sound like the commercial. They were always peppier. Mike hung up the phone.

Emptiness echoed off the walls of his dingy apartment. Mike remembered the wasted pizza that had spoilt in his fridge. There wasn’t much, but just one slice was too much. He decided a night with two large pizzas should be spent with close friends.

The phone was answered after one ring. “Derrick, you up for some pizza tonight?”

“Yeah, where’d you get it from?”

“Pizza Barn.”

“Ok, cool. I’ll call Jen ‘n’ Manda, get them over too.”

Again someone was trying to call. Again the line was busy.

********

Vinny hung up.

“What is it now?” Mr. Maraninci asked. His voice was calm. There was no reason to lose his temper. He was used to incompetence.

“Da kid hung up on me boss. Now he’s been on the phone for ‘bout twenty minutes,” Vinny answered, almost whining.

“Well keep tryin’ and don’t stop till you get ‘im.”

Vinny picked up the phone again and dialed Mike’s number. As he dialed, Maraninci sat and waited.

Smoke was billowing from his mouth. His thirty-dollar cigar sat smoking in the crystal ashtray. Maraninci rubbed the scar on his chin reminding him of the only time someone hit him and got away with it.

“Well, d’you get an answer?” Maraninci asked.

“No, he’s still on the phone.”

Vinny slammed the phone to the receiver and cursed. “Dis kid’s causin’ us more trouble dan he’s worth.” Vinny picked up the phone and dialed again.

********

Mikes phone rang. “Hello?” He answered.

“Mike, this is Derrick. Wanna see a flick?”

“Sure. What’re ya gonna get?”

“You’ll find out. Don’t worry, Derrick’s on the case. Trust me.”

“Yeah, last time I trusted you the movie sucked.”

“Hey, that one wasn’t my fault. The chick on the cover was hot. It had to be good.”

“Whatever.”

“Trust me on this one.” Derrick was pleading.

“Alright, alright. Just hurry. Pizzas on the way.”

Mike hung up the phone. He looked over at the pile of dishes in the sink and wished they’d clean themselves. A growling stomach wished the pizza was there.

“Waste not want not,” Mikes motto. He clicked on what most call the idiot box and with the intent to involve himself in some affair with some far off woman named Margo, that was having an affair with Bruce, who is married to Margo’s sister.

Margo kept his interest with her long, curly blonde hair and her exquisite body. And Bruce? Well he was boring. Margo deserved better.

Mike was drawn into the screen. He felt every heartbreak and despised every evil. He felt every smack in the face by a jealous lover and longed for the kiss of a new one.

The afternoon brings so much adventure.

Ring.

“Again with the phone!” Mike said. He placed his hands on the arms of the chair and stood.

Ring.

He answered with a disgusted, “Hello, whatdawant?”

“Mike, so glad I could finally reach you.” The voice was raspy and familiar.

“Who is this?” he asked.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know who dis is. We spoke earlier. Bout money you owe certain people?”

“Oh, this is that phone company guy again isn’t it?”

“I told you before, dis ain’t the phone company! All I need to know is where Mr. Maraninci’s money is.”

“Oh, so now it’s Mr. Maraninci that wants my money. I thought it was just you.”

“Mr. Maraninci is not one to be played wit. He’s a very, very influential man. He wants his money and he wants it now, and if you can’t produce said money, den myself and a few, lets call dem friends of mine, comes down to your place and we have a little talk. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh I know what you mean.” Kids. Always trying to pull pranks on people.

“You say, you’re gonna come down here and get the money from me one way or another. Well, listen. You can come down here, with as many of your friends as you want. When you get here, we’ll talk over what needs to be said, then you’ll be on your merry way, either on a stretcher or in you mother’s car.”

“This ain’t no joke, kid. Mr. Maraninci can make you disappear!” The answer startled Mike, but not to the point of stopping. Sometimes kids need to be taught lessons.

“Alright, come on down!” Mike said and hung up the phone with an ear splitting slam.

********

Maraninci sat and watched as Vinny threw the phone to the floor. He picked up the smoking stub of his cigar and inhaled a mouthful of smoke. The tip glowed red as the life was sucked back into it.

“So what’s the problem, Vinny? Does this kid have my money or not?” He picked up an empty glass and rattled the ice at the bottom. The sound soothed him. Incompetence was beginning to bother him.

“Mr. Maraninci, this kid’s playin’ games. He don’t got the money. I know it. So I think that…”

Maraninci interrupted, “Who said you could think?”

“I was just sayin that if me and Lou and…”

“No, how bout this. You take Pete and Lou and go help him open his wallet. Let’s see what falls out.”

“Yeah, we’ll help him real good boss, help him open that wallet right up,” Pete chimed in.

“I wasn’t finished. Now shutup.”

“Sorry boss.” Pete looked down at the table in fear.”

“And if he gives you any trouble bring him back here. We’ll have a talk. Understand?”

Lou and Pete pushed their chairs out and stood. Vinny picked up his gun, placed it in his brown shoulder holster and put on his expensive jacket. He filled out the jacket like it was two sizes too small; his colossal arms almost tore the seams.

“Do whatever needs to be done,” Maraninci ordered. “Just get my money!”

Vinny walked out of the room. Pete and Lou followed like lost puppies.

********

Mike was sitting in the waiting room with Chet, Margo’s new love. She was in the hospital. She was in a poison induced coma.

There was a knock at the door. Mike almost expected the doctor to come in and pronounce Margo was awake.

Mike clicked off the sound again. “Who is it?”

“Pizza Barn,” came the familiar reply through the door.

Mike glanced at the screen and saw a dancing cow holding a Pizza Barn sign. Mike almost half noted another coincidence.

An open door revealed the man of the hour. Rick, the Pizza Barn delivery guy. The cow bobbed on his hat as he turned from watching his idling car to the opened door.

“How’s it going Rick?”

“Great Mike. Moovin right along.” The boxes were passed over the threshold. The new bride for Mike’s empty stomach.

“That’ll be $17.50.”

Mike took the pizza boxes from him and placed them on the kitchen table. Mike fumbled through a stack on papers and chaos on a counter and found his wallet. He pulled out a twenty and a five. Scrooge was not paying tonight.

“Hey! thanks man. You want any change?”

“Na, keep it.”

“Thanks a lot,” he said and turned to leave.

Rick got in his car and drove away. “Miiike,” the box in the kitchen called.

“Coming,” Mike answered, and walked toward the waiting box.

Mike opened the box and marveled at one of man’s greatest inventions. He reached for a slice. “It’s a shame Derrick’s late.”

There was another knock at the door.

“Yeah, who is it?” Mike called from the kitchen.

The door opened and Derrick walked in. He was carrying a rented cinematic adventure in his left hand. The title was concealed.

Derrick strutted into the kitchen. He was just in time to see Mike voraciously consume the slice that called to his empty stomach.

Derrick reached for a slice. The steam was still rising from the sliding cheese. The grease dripped onto the seldom-dirty and seldom-used table.

Mike managed to squeeze some words through the maimed slice.

“What movie d’you get?”

Derrick cleared his mouth with a swallow. “Swamp Man 2. Derrick comes through with another great one.”

“Have you seen it yet?” Mike asked, a little leery.

“No. But I read the back of the box. Sounded cool.”

“Better not suck.”

“Trust me. You loved the first one didn’t you?”

Mike nodded and took another bite. He had to admit he did enjoy the first one. Sequals are a different story though.

Derrick took the movie into the living room and placed the tape into the VCR.

He looked at the muted screen. “Are you watching ‘One Came Knocking’?” He laughed.

“No, I was scanning the channels when the pizza guy came. This is just where I stopped.”

“Yeah whatever.”

Mike felt the subject needed to be changed. “Where’re the girls?” he asked.

“They found out what movie I got. Decided to show up later.”

“Typical,” Mike said. He reached for another slice. He had separated from the pizza long enough.

The next few hours they watched their friend, the Swamp Man, battle the evil powers that terrorize the weaker sex. The film had an ok beginning. There was a plan by the evil powers to kill the Swamp Man. Being the hero, he outwitted evil many times. Stereotypical.

By the end of the movie Swampy was wounded. Instead of letting the evil men capture his friends he committed the grandest act of chivalry possible for a swamp creature. He gave his life for the love he met during his adventures.

The movie ended with an elaborate and drawn out scene where the creature confessed his love with his dying breath.

And as the credits dramatically rolled; ring!

Redundancy was beginning to annoy Mike.

He was about to pick it up after the second ring, but there was no second ring.

Mike was already standing and walking over to the phone before the empty space where a ring should be registered. Mike kicked the table the phone was on and went back to sit down.

“What was that all about?” Derrick asked.

“That’s like the sixth call tonight. Most of ‘em been pranks.”

“That’s annoying.”

“Yeah. Just kids.”

“What was the ploy? They ask you if your fridge was running?”

“No. Just some kid pretending to be a thug working for Victor Maraninci.”

“You mixed up with the mob Mike?”

“Come on. Really. It’s just kids.”

“You better hope so,” Derrick laughed, and walked into the kitchen.

“I know a fake accent when I hear one,” Mike said.

“You ever seen a picture of him? He’s a big dude.”

There was a startling knock at the door.

“That must be the ladies,” Derrick called from the kitchen. His mouth was full.

Mike looked up and called, “Come in.”

Amanda called from the other side of the door, “Our hands are full. Can you open it for us?” Her voice didn’t seem normal.

The door swung open to reveal the beautiful Amanda and the even more ravishing Jen. They were followed by a small entourage of bodyguard-sized men. One looked like his brown jacket was two sizes too small. The girls were shoved onto the couch. Typical ruffians.

“Which one of you’s is Mike?” he said not even saying hello.

Swampy’s chivalry was overwhelming Mike. Jen’s presence always brought out the man in him. This time it was the stupid man.

“I am. Who wants to know?” Mike tried to look tough in his stained shirt and cowlicks.

“Oh, so you’re da punk dat keeps hangin’ up on me.”

Mike looked at the oversized ogre of a man. If he had the ability he would have wet himself.

Mike managed to squeeze out, “Can you explain...” and swallowed hard. Sweat poured down his back.

“Don’t play dumb. You know why we’re here.”

“Yeah, we’re here to open your wallet,” one said from behind.

The other goon just stood there looking dumb enough to shoot someone.

“My wallet? What are you talking about?”

Looking frustrated, the large man in front reached into his coat, right under his left armpit.

The goon in the back spoke up, “Vinny, you ain’t supposed to do nutin’ to ‘um. You’re just supposed to bring ‘im to da bosses’ place if we had any trouble. Remember?”

“Shut it!” Vinny said.

“I was just sayin what the boss said,” he retorted.

Vinny pointed with a now drawn gun, “Ok, you four get in da car.”

They were escorted to two waiting vehicles parked in front of Mike’s apartment. One car was familiar, with the even more familiar license plate. It was Jennifer’s car. Jen, Amanda, Derrick and the quiet goon rode in that one.

Mike was pushed into the back seat of the less familiar car, accompanied by a smaller version of Andre the Giant. The seat squeaked as he sat down, and Mike was jammed against the door.

The ride was bumpier than a railroad bed. Riding in the trunk would have been roomier and the spare more aromatic. The goons were quite fond of garlic. Even worse, Andre was not fond of deodorant. Fortunate for Mike his cramped seat made it hard to breathe.

********

Mike would have seen the house if he had been conscious. He was rendered unconscious after a smart comment using the words, “spaghetti bending” and “Ginny.”

Sleep was good. Sleep meant he didn’t have to smell.

Unfortunate for Mike, body odor can be a smelling salt. He was jolted into nauseous consciousness as Andre reached his arm around Mike’s head to unlock the door. His armpit was at nose level. Mike awoke, looking into a yellow stained, sweaty armpit so close to his eyes that he only had to rely on his sense of smell to tell him what it was.

Mike felt like one of a herd, always being shoved by the one behind. Mike was glad that none of the men had cattle prods. They looked like they were not unfamiliar with them though.

They were greeted with the hospitality of a death camp and ushered into a large room with exquisite furniture.

“Wait here,” Vinny ordered. He turned and shut the door when he left.

“What’s this about?” Amanda asked. “I’m not getting shoved around for nothing.”

“This is the home of the Maraninci family. They have cordially invited Mike to a meeting with Mr. Maraninci himself.” Derrick was cocky.

The large wooden doors crept open. A man looking very comfortable in a $3000 suit (Italian) entered. He was holding a cigar (Cuban).

“I hope you haven’t been too inconvenienced tonight. Sometimes Vinny can be a little pushy.”

Mike looked over at his friends. He could tell Jen wanted to say something. Amanda must have noticed because she was squeezing Jen’s arm.

“If you don’t mind your friend Mike and I are going for a little walk.” Maraninci must have noticed Jen’s clenched jaw and Amanda’s tight grip.

“Don’t worry sweets I wont hurt your boyfriend.”

Maraninci walked behind Mike and placed his massive pinky-ringed hand on Mike’s shoulder.

“Mike, let’s take that walk.”

Mike stood. His knees wobbled with the frightened weight. Somewhere he found the strength to make the long trek across the room. Swampy was gone. No more strength from him.

From the size of this house, the large goons, and the expensive suit, Mike knew he was in trouble. All that was missing were the large attack dogs.

Maraninci’s gold clad hand more pushed than guided Mike toward a large glass door leading outside.

Outside Mike noticed, despite his last thoughts, the house had everything that meant trouble, including the large attack dogs.

Two brown and black dogs with pointed ears and nubbed tails showed their teeth at Mike with an angry growl. He didn’t take the time to notice the breed. Maraninci placed his hand on one of the dog’s head.

“You see this dog Mike?” he began. “This is Bruno. When I first got him he was a pain. He never listened. He thought he was in charge. I had to let him know the difference between master and owner. He needed to know his place in the grand scheme. I had to break him. It hurt me to put this dog through it, but the pain was worth the respect we now enjoy. Now he’ll do anything I say. Understand?”

Mike nodded.

“You see you’re a lot like this dog. Right now you’re a nuisance, but after some coaxing maybe some training, we can become good friends. Don’t ya think?”

Mike wanted to say, “Sure that’ll be great. But I don’t have the personality to be a good guard dog.” He wanted to bite Maraninc’s leg. Instead he just nodded.

“Listen, I don’t want any problems. If you don’t pay your debts I just might let Bruno here help me collect.”

Mike looked down at the dog. It was staring right at his throat. It looked hungry.

“Mike, I need this money and I need it now. As you can see, I’m not exactly in need, but I hate keeping the books open for longer than necessary.”

Maraninci continued. He spoke of times he had to make sure people still knew their place in the “grand scheme,” as he put it. He told Mike what it meant never to walk again because he couldn’t pay his debts. He explained his loathing of teaching such lessons but assured Mike he would have it done if necessary.

From the loving talk Mike understood Maraninci was trying to scare him. Fortunately for Maraninci, it was working.

Mike knew he didn’t owe a dime but he would have paid twice if he had the money now.

There was a pause. Maraninci looked toward Mike. He was waiting for a response. Mike couldn’t think of anything besides escaping.

It was Mike’s turn to talk. He tried to keep a steady tone. He didn’t want to show his fear. “There must be some kind of mistake. I’m happy to say I only owe Visa.” Mike tried the little joke.

Maraninci didn’t seem to get it. He no longer had a cool look in his eyes. A fire burned behind his glassy stare. A sudden punch to the stomach sent Mike to his knees in the wet grass.

From the ground Mike watched Maraninci walk away. Mike kept his eyes on the dogs, hoping they wouldn’t attack. Mike had to get up. He had to run. He needed to escape.

Mike stood. Vinny didn’t think he deserved to stand. His gun was sharp to the back of Mike’s head. The pain was undeserved. At least Mike thought so.

********

Mike woke in a strange bed. Pain throbbed down his back. The harsh morning light shone through the open window.

There was a knock at the door. The knocker didn’t bother to wait for Mike to answer. Jen walked in. Her eyes were glazed from a sleepless night.

“Mike, Mike. You awake?”

“Yeah, I’m awake. You ok?”

“Yeah, listen. I talked to Mr. Maraninci. He said he’d let us go. He just wants his money. Look, Mike, I don’t care if you don’t owe him, I just wanna get out of here. I can tap into my account, you can pay me back. I just wanna go home.”

Oh sweet Jen. Mike had to refuse. He needed to find a way out himself. Sometimes chivalry can be foolish.

“I can’t take your money Jen. I think I know a way out. Through the garage.”

Mike got up. He followed Jen toward the room where they had been kept that night. Derrick and Amanda were asleep. Before they could wake them, the door creaked open.

Maraninci walked into the room. He was wearing a silk robe. There was no sign of his cigar.

“Mike. I thought I would find you here. Come with me. Last night was just talk. I usually do my business over a meal. Have breakfast with me. We can get down to business.”

They walked out into the sun. A table was set with a beautiful breakfast. Maraninci sat. A chair was pulled out and Mike was pushed to sit. Mikes mind raced through the labyrinth of solutions and a concussion.

“Mr. Maraninci,” he began, “I know I don’t owe you. I can’t. There’s gotta be some kind of mistake. Maybe there’s another Mike.” The names pretty common, he would have added if he weren’t scared of this man.

A television in the next room was blaring an interrogation/torture scene. Maraninci kept looking over Mikes shoulder. Mike turned around and looked through the opening.

Vinny and the two goons from the night before were sitting in a half circle around a television. On the screen someone was being tortured into telling some larger guy where someone’s money was. Mike smiled with a thought. He wished he were in a movie, fake blood, fake guns, fake pain…

Maraninci’s voice rose with every syllable. “Shut that television off! Can’t you see I’m trying to have a peaceful breakfast?” He sat down. He looked back at Mike with calm eyes.

“Sorry for that out burst. I can’t seem to get any peace around here. You were saying?”

“Um... maybe there’s someone...” Mike tried to start.

There was a gunshot. The television character cringed with false pain.

There was another gunshot, this time from Maraninci’s gun.

“I told you boys to shut that off.”

The television tube was blank. The broken glass smoked. Vinny was standing.

“Sorry boss,” he said and walked out of the room. He was well trained. Mike wondered if he had been broken as well.

“Now, let’s talk about that money,” Maraninci said.

“Yeah, as I was saying, you got the wrong Mike. I mean, I never even talked to you till last night. This whole things gotta be a mistake. You don’t want that other Mike to get away without paying do you?”

Mike tensed for another punch in the stomach. Maraninci didn’t like being contradicted, but he made no response. Mike relaxed.

Maraninci smoothed back his hair and exhaled. “I can see we still haven’t gotten over that problem. Listen, I don’t care if you think you don’t know me, but someone with your name and face owes me money. Since you’re here, you get to be the Mike that pays.” Maraninci held up a folder.

“This folder was made when you first came to see me.” He opened the folder and removed a Polaroid picture. He held it up at arm length. It was level with Mike’s face. He studied it for a minute, then threw it into Mikes lap.

Before Mike could pick it up Maraninci said, “You see, being a business man means I need to keep up. I need all the correct resources, all the correct information. Are you disrespectful enough to come here to my home, enjoy my hospitality, then tell me I don’t know how to run my business?”

Mike picked up the picture.

He continued, “I keep updated pictures in every file. I make sure we got the right man. And that the right man is gonna pay.” Maraninci placed the folder on the table in front of Mike.

Mike looked at the picture in his hand. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t be seeing this. It wasn’t possible.

The picture was simple. Not professional by any means. There were a few trees, some water, and Mike with a stupid grin. Mike shook his head in disbelief. He didn’t remember posing for the picture. And if he had posed he was sure he wouldn’t have had such a goofy grin.

“Where did you take...”

“I don’t do business on vacation, but you promised to pay on time. You agreed to that picture next to my lake house.”

There was nothing Mike could do. Time wouldn’t let him rewind the order in which all these events had happened. Somehow this picture was familiar, just not familiar enough to place it.

Maraninci stood. “Mike, I’ll let you look through this file. You’ll see this isn’t the first time we’ve done business. I’ll leave you alone to think over your expenses. You can have these records. That’s your copy.”

“Oh, Mike? If you run I’ll hunt you down. I’ll get you. And next time I won’t be so hospitible to you or your friends.”

“So you’ll let them go?”

“I never said that, but if I don’t get my money I can’t guarantee they’ll be safe until you’re cold and buried.”

Mike picked the folder up from the glass tabletop. It wasn’t very thick, just a few papers and another picture. Some woman, very attractive. Mike looked through the papers. Each paper had illegible writing. All the letters looked jumbled.

He found one last paper. It had an amount of money written on it. Then below that amount, a signature. Mike’s. The amount was so unreasonable, he would have only dreamed such a large sum.

Mikes mind screamed, “Get up! Run!”

He stood. He found himself running, but not sure where. His legs just kept pumping faster and faster. It seemed as though he wasn’t moving at all. The fence was so far away.

Mike came to a solitary door along a wall. He pushed the door open. The door led into the garage. Three cars resting in it. One of the bays behind a car was open. Mike tested his luck. Luck seemed to be going his way today. The key rested in the ignition. He knew this was the only way out. Fate had dealt him a good hand. He jumped into the driver’s seat and backed out of the bay.

Mike was escaping. Images of his friends sitting being tortured till they told where Mike was hiding paraded through his mind.

“I don’t even know where I’m going,” he said aloud.

“Mike?” he heard a familiar voice ask.

“Who’s there?”

“Its me, Derrick. Were you gonna leave us?” He was crouching behind the seat. He wasn’t in view.

“No, I was coming to get you. Where are the girls?”

“In the trunk. They—It’s safer there. I mean if I was the only one caught... They can crawl out. The lid’s not shut all the way.”

Mike was about to press the gas again. A hand grabbed his throat.

“Where do you think your goin’?”

It was Maraninci. He pulled Mike through the open window onto the ground. Mike stood and dusted himself off. Escape still lingered in his mind. He wouldn’t let this one pass. What would the swamp man do?

He reached back with all his might. His fist screamed toward Maraninci’s jaw. With a thud he made contact. Maraninci’s grip loosened.

A torrent of three-dollar swears and some Italian yelling was thrown toward the ground, but Mike knew it was directed at him. Mike didn’t take the time to try to translate.

He left Maraninci kneeling in the driveway hopefully in a lot of pain, next to a very long patch of black rubber. Mike watched him through the rearview as Vinny came running to his side.

As they faded into the distance in the rearview mirror Mike watched Maraninci make angry gestures and shove Vinny.

A minute and a half later Mike pulled the car into a parking lot about two miles away from the mansion. He opened the trunk. The girls tumbled out. They thanked his with hugs. The first thought was that there was no time, but there’s always time for hugs.

********

The last one Mike dropped off was Jen. She thanked him for the wonderful night. They laughed. Mike’s stomach ached where it had met 215 pounds of Italian fury.

He watched Jen walk up her sidewalk. She gave him a wave at her door as she slipped in.

Mike remembered he wasn’t free. Not yet. No one could know how many goons were after him now. He needed to get rid of the car. He didn’t want it near his apartment, so he left it at the park. It was only 10:30 in the morning and the park was crowded. Mike hoped the car would be hard for anyone to find.

Mike took the keys and started to run toward his house.

If you do that, you’re an idiot. You know you can’t run home. That’ll be the first place they look. The voice in Mike’s head was right. They always check the house first. You can learn a lot from movies.

********

Vinny pulled away from Mikes complex. He looked around and turned toward the park. He drove down the street. He scanned every car that passed, looking for Mike. He looked at every person running anywhere to make sure it wasn’t Mike. His orders were to take care of the rat. He knew what he had to do. Besides, he’d get a bonus for this.

“I spotted your car, boss,” he said into the phone.

“Is he in it?” came the reply.

“No, but he can’t be far.” Vinny parked his car and shut it off. He began looking through the crowd of people.

Vinny stepped out of the car. The sun beat down on his head. His almost-to-the-skin haircut wasn’t the best sun protection. He began to sweat. He took off his jacket and tossed it into the back seat.

********

Mike saw the perfect place to hide. Large masses of people were sitting by the pond. Dogs, children, balloons, and commotion. Perfect!

********

Vinny scanned every face. He noticed mostly women as he walked. A lake was in the distance. People packed its shores.

********

Mike spotted Vinny first. He ran in the opposite direction. Mike wasn’t looking where he was going and bumped into a balloon vender. She lost her handful of strings.

********

Vinny heard a yell. He saw a bunch of balloons float into the air, then more yelling. “There’s the punk!” Vinny started to run.

********

Vinny caught up to Mike too easily. Chivalry should have been dead that morning. Mike had tripped a woman and spent too much time helping her up. Vinny let a shot ring through the air. It nicked Mike’s leg. He stumbled a bit and regained his balance.

Mike had to find the car.

********

Luck helped again, the car wasn’t blocked in. Mike sped through the crowded streets with ease. People jumped out of the way like it was choreographed. Wounded, Mike knew where he had to go. This was the only way to do it.

Mike knew hero’s did it this way. He had seen it thousands of times. Wounded hero takes one for the team.

Mike turned left toward the empty back lot. He nudged the fence open with the nose of the car. The gate gave way and he drove through. The trip was all too real, but this was the only way.

Mike parked and looked out the drivers’ side window.

The cigarette lighter popped out of its hole. Even though Mike was against it, he thought a smoke seemed appropriate. He felt like a man, blindfolded, waiting, ready to be shot. He picked up the orange hot circle and lit the cancer stick between his lips.

“Ya know smoking will kill ya.” An anti-smoking commercial ran through his mind. Mike smiled at the irony. He knew what else would kill him.

Mike looked out the window again. This whole problem would be over soon enough. He knew when he was found in this back lot it would be too late for Vinny and company to do anything.

A loud whistle blew.

********

The conductor squinted. There was a car on the tracks. He pulled the cord to sound the air horn. The car didn’t move. He pulled the brake hard. He knew he couldn’t stop in time, but the brakes might give the driver time to get out of the car.

********

Vinny had followed close behind. He found the car, with someone in it, sitting on train tracks. He got out of his car and watched.

********

Mike looked towards the speeding train and took another puff. Chivalry. “I love you Jen,” he said exhaling. The swamp man would have been proud.

The car exploded on impact. He didn’t feel a thing. How could he?

********

The news was on. Mike was startled out of a deep sleep.

“...apparently the vehicle was owned by alleged crime boss, Victor Maraninci.” The news reporter’s voice feigned drama.

Mike opened his eyes to the sound of a passing train. Some one was knocking at his door. Mike sat up and rubbed the place where the bullet had grazed his leg. There was no mark. Why would there be? Mike stood and shuffled to the table. Hope that’s my pizza.

“Be there in a minute.”

Mike fumbled through a stack on papers and chaos on a counter and found his wallet. There was a picture underneath it. It was Mike, trees, body of water and a stupid grin. Mike felt the back of his head, looking for a knot. Just a dream. It’d make a great movie though, he thought.

Mike opened the door, while reaching into his wallet for a twenty.

“Hello, Mike,” came a familiar, raspy voice. Mike looked up.

The man standing in the open doorway was dressed in dark suit pants and a brown jacket. He filled the jacket out like it was two sizes too small. His arms made the seams cry from stretching.

“I came to collect the money dat you owe certain people,” Vinny said.