One Hundred Sleepless Nights

My feet were propped up on the coffee table at my pop’s old house. I couldn't get that girl's face out of my head. I mean she looked so much like . . . but bumping into me like that? No. Could it really have been… no, I won't even let myself think it. Then, why am I here looking at old pictures of us as kids? I am sitting in my old living room, leafing through photo albums like a sentimental old fool. I can't think back to those times. It's too much for me to handle. Sometimes I wish I could just block it out. All I will remember, if I look back, is how ‘Lana leaving led to me being who I am now. Some thug, with a fat bank account and no responsibilities, because ‘the family’ takes care of me. I lit a cigarette and throw the photo album on the floor. Just like in those corny movies Tracy makes me watch, it opens up to a page with me and ‘Lana. My eyes are drawn to one picture in particular. Lana and I are in her backyard, for one of her parent's annual BBQ. She was wearing a lilac dress with no shoes, and her hands are in mine. She was kissing my cheek while I made a face at the camera. A face with very little disgust in it. Her parents were in the background laughing.

I loved this picture of us. I bend down and caress the outline of the faint smile on my face. How foreign it would look if I wore one of those now. I walked away from the album ready to leave the house but I doubled back towards it. I pulled the double of the photo out from behind the original copy and folded it. I placed it in my back pocket with my cell phone and got up again. I put the album back on the bookshelf, and started to head out once more. I look to check that all is in order and my eyes laid on the door to the back room. My heart pounds like I am eight years old again. I could hear the voices that I knew were no longer coming from there. I mean all parties involved were now dead. I could almost see young me being thrown in that room alone after witnessing that horrid scene. My pops walks in almost an hour later, blood cleaned from his clothes, or maybe he changed.

He leaned against the desk table with a small smile on his face. As if I was just not getting what a big joke this all was. Like the death of 'Lana's parents was too funny for me to understand. He handed me a lollipop and I took it, feeling more dumbfounded by the second. My stomach twisted in knot and I felt my head spin. I stared at the candy as my father stared at me. We were silent too long for anyone to feel comfortable. He broke the silence with a deep sigh and he lifted himself off the desk. He crouched in front of me a hint of joy gleaming in his eyes.

“I knew you would become a man someday. I just didn't think it would be this soon.” He placed his hand on my knee and smiled. I tried not to recoil from his touch. “You are ready for the family business, Tony.” He got up and began to pace. “What you saw earlier, Tony,” he took a pregnant pause. “Well, that was business gone bad. Sometimes, Tony, when someone don’t hold up their end of the deal, you have to take what you want. Even if it means they get hurt in the process.” He opened his arms wide. “This world, Tony, is ours. We have run things for many, many years. One day you will be the king of Mayville and no one can tell you different. No one will be able to stop you, son. You can have everything.”

“Sir,” I said very lowly, “I don’t want to kill people.”

“Then hire someone to do it for you.” Then he left me sitting there.

That’s how it all started. The smoking, the girls, the fights, the drinking, the bar, the business, Tracy. Everything went sour after ‘Lana’s parents, “got what’s coming to them”, as my pops would always say. During my training period over the next five years, 57 people would get what was coming to them. I would pull my first job in high school. Nothing big really, just had to transport a package from one guy to the next. My pops beamed when it was successful, got me a car. I didn't question where it came from, just took it. I learned never to ask questions about anything with my pops. It was pretty auspicious that it was the very car the girl who I liked at the time loved it. Really though, who doesn't love a 1969 Mustang GT with a red paint job. It would be the first in my collection of classic beauties. These days I drive around in what used to be ‘Lana’s dream car, not sure if it is anymore. I mean, she was always blabbing about it being sporty, but not too sporty. A dark color too, just like her dad’s. I shook my head. It doesn't matter anyway; I will never see her again.

I unglued myself from the floor and tore my eyes from the door of that room. I left the house locking up behind me and waved at the cop patrolling the block. He was one of ours, almost all of them were. I hopped into my car and drive back to the apartment. I pull up to the building park in my reserved spot and run up the stairs. I pull out my phone and decide to call my boy, Vald, while opening my apartment door. I told him to come over so we could hang. I needed to relax. Vald was the closest thing I will get to a best friend. I have known him since seventh grade. His pops came here to work for my pops. See, his pops was a hit man. He had trained Vald from young, so when he moved out here naturally he gravitated towards me. I was the only other kid in town who unhappily inherited his father’s line of work. When Vald got here he let himself in, said I must have dropped something in the hall because he saw a folded paper out there. It wasn't until my second beer that it dawned on me that I could have dropped something. The picture. I check my pockets for the picture but it was gone. I look out in the hallway but someone must have grabbed it. I curse myself for even bringing the damn thing because now I lost it.

I walk back into my apartment with a frown on my face. I hate that I lost my favorite picture of 'Lana. It was just another reminder that no good comes from the life I lead. I throw myself on the couch while Vald heads to the radio. Vald pumps the Deftones, who I don't really care for but, hey, I am not a music guy. He laughs and sways his hips while he describes a girl he met at the club the other day. He said her name is Yulia and she has a cute friend I may like. I take a gulp of Vodka and laugh.

“Vald, I am not sure Tracy will like that.”

He doubles over in laughter. “Like you care, besides when are you going to be done with that chick?”

I shrug, “You know how it is.” I lean back against the couch. “I guess I will be done with her when I find someone worth it to risk it all for.”

I laugh so hard that I can’t breathe.

“Like that is ever going to happen.” Vald laughs.

“Yeah, well.” I change the music and put on some generic radio station. I light a cigarette, lower the sound and laugh some more. “I guess you never know.”