Hipster Holocaust- Slice of Life

 

Hipster Holocaust Chapter Sixteen- Slice Of Life

Fat Louie sat in Nino’s pizzeria with a large Nonna pie in front of him. It was a favorite. With no tomato sauce. The acidity gave him agita. He liked the plain mozzarella and ricotta pie. With extra ricotta just the way his Nonna used to make it when he was growing up on Henry Street. He would come over to stay with his Nonna while his mother went to work. He loved spending time with his Nonna. It was his favorite childhood memory.

Not like his memories of his father. That cocksucker. He wasn’t home all that often. He was either whoring around or in the can. A low-level enforcer for the Gallo’s his father was always getting pinched because they would leave him holding the bag. Never anything more than a lowly wannabee, his father made him ashamed. He didn’t have the balls to move up. To do a hit and become a made guy. The best he could do was be the muscle in collecting the vig from the longshoremen that the gang preyed on in the neighborhood. He only got paid peanuts, and the family lived on his mother's meager paycheck as a maid for a rich family in the city.

Fat Louie was on his own. He had always been on his own.  His father hated him and batted him around until he was big enough to punch back. His mother must of loved him, but she was so exhausted all the time that she couldn’t muster the strength to care what he did. When his Nonna died, he was twelve, and he just didn’t give a shit no more. He made his life out on the streets. He wasn’t popular at Sacred Hearts, his grammar school. All the kids mocked his stained and wrinkled clothes. The nuns didn’t give a shit about him either. By 1968, most of the Cabrini Sisters had left the convent, and the new secular teachers didn’t give two shits. He dropped out in the seventh grade. You would think that the government would have known he was a truant, but he just slipped through the cracks.

He joined a gang. The Garfield Boys from up in Park Slope. Which was sort of unusual because he came from Red Hook. He met Carmine the Snake and his buddy Apples, and they took a liking to the husky twelve-year-old. Fat Louie looked like a man at twelve, as he didn’t gain all the weight until his twenties. He did the usual apprenticeship of running errands and picking up numbers banks and selling swag. Because he was from Red Hook, the Snake sometimes used him as a messenger boy with the Gallos. This was before their big falling out. After Umberto’s Clam House, he had to make a choice. He couldn’t run with the Colombos and still live in Carroll Gardens. So, he decided to switch families. A lot of that was happening. It was a fallout from the assignations of Joe Colombo and Crazy Joe. Fat Louie had decided to hitch his star to Slappy Aiello, who had switched himself from the Colombos to the Genovese. Since he wasn’t a made guy, it wasn’t all that big a deal. Especially since the Snake was in the can and his kid didn’t know him from Adam.

He had been working for Slappy for a long time. Doing the same shit as before. Collections. Being muscle. Or fat if you want to know the truth. He would use his bulk to intimidate people. He knew how to fight and wasn’t afraid to mix it up. He wasn’t afraid of getting fucked up because his father had beaten it out of him. So, he was a weapon that the boss valued. Just not someone he wanted to promote.

Fat Louie had gotten really, really tired of that. He was going to make his move. It was time he got straightened out. The books were opened for the first time in twenty years, and there was talk that they were going to make some guys this time. He had to one. He had put in the time. Now he needed the payout.

The problem was Geno. He was in the way. He was a legacy hire. Like one of those rich bastards that got into Harvard because their father and grandfather were in back in the day. Geno got his button and was Slappy’s number two. Geno hated him and would try to stop him from getting made. He had to go.

A young wannabee came in and sat across from him as he chewed contemplatively on a slice. He was one of the dwindling supply of neighborhood kids who wanted to be a part of the life. He would hang around the club and run errands, and do the dirty work that nobody else wanted to do. Washing glasses. Sweeping up. Maybe doing a simple collection. Sort of like baby wise guys. Strangely enough, his name was Louie too. He usually hung around with two other mooks that the crew had nicknamed Huey and Dewey. Louie, Huey, and Dewey. It was like a fucking cartoon.

“Hey, Cheech, what’s up?” Fat Louie said as he picked up another slice. He had loaded it up with salt, red pepper flakes, and Parmesan cheese. He had to keep his strength up. “The cops are looking into the missing girl. You know the one who used to work in the pork store and now works in the bank. The old man is pissed about it. It looks like the broad’s half a retard son went to talk to the old man about it, and now he wants to know what happened. If we can come up with an answer first, it would be good. Ya know what I mean?” Fat Louie took a long swig from his Manhattan Special coffee soda. “What does Geno say?” The other Louie just shook his head. “He don’t say shit. He is just shining the old man on. He thinks it’s all bullshit and that the old man is getting soft. He sez what do we care about some cooze running away from home?”

Fat Louie looked up from his next slice. “That’s stupid, kid. They found a dead broad in the Canal a couple of days ago. Now another one goes missing? That ain’t a coincidence. At the very least, it’s gonna mean that the cops are going to be poking around. It’s short-sighted to ignore it. If you take care of the details, then the big picture takes care of itself. We need to look into this broad’s disappearance. You take Huey and Dewey and ask around. Don’t tell Geno.” “You think it's one of them Hannibal Lecter guys, Louie? You know a serial killer like on TV?” Fat Louie laughed. “Nah, that’s a bunch of bullshit. Why would a serial killer come to Brooklyn, of all places? We don’t even know that that girl is dead. She might just be out getting laid. It’s too soon to tell. But not too soon to get a jump on doing something the old man wants. Thanks for bringing this to me. I appreciate it. Now go do what I told you.” With that, the thinner mobster left.

Fat Louie was always polite to the wannabees. He wanted them on his side as he went about ingratiating himself with the boss. Unlike Geno, who treated everyone like shit. Because Fat Louie took care of the boys, they always came to him first with everything. New scams. Business opportunities. Swag. Most important, information. That was his edge. He was always a couple of steps ahead.

He would go to the pork store and ask Vinnie about the girl. Maybe touch base with the manager of the bank. He was a gambler and had a few markers out. Neighborhood boy who made good but kept some of his neighborhood ways. He would tell him what he wanted to know. Or else he would have to pay up. In full. Which he couldn’t do in this lifetime.

Fat Louie burped. He took a crumpled-up napkin and wiped his lips. They felt greasy from the pizza and the soda. He was still a little peckish.

After the pizza, maybe he’ll get some ice cream.