Chapter Seventeen: Dinner with the Mob

Later, Glen drove on Hayes Road bypassing Hall while showing some emphasis on that corner he was envisioning the past, next for that to be interrupted by a goofy fat man in a small car. Glen also allowed Jim to have command of the radio and put on Detroit’s Hard Rock station. Since they left the condo, a commercial for Progressive was running. And four minutes later, still more commercials, this time from Geico. The three noticed no advertising was local. Glen at some point in his teenage years had the interest of being a DJ for a rock station, he sure was glad he didn’t venture in that. The thought of that was the solid radio was going down the drain for major markets. According to his younger brother two days previous, he stated that news and sports talk stations are doing well despite the drain of radio. And according to Sheila before her passing, any station doing Country was doing descent to very well.

            When they reached to a red light at Shoreline Drive, a promo for the station had stated their special holiday edition of Midnight Metal, with a male voiceover boasting his hardcore voice telling all listeners that The Prince Of Darkness himself his hosting the show all day. This followed by a quick heavy metal promo with a man laughing through a voice transmogifier. Glen scanned all his surroundings while the shindigs on radio were going. Shoreline Drive was an elegant side street that lead to Lakeside Mall, before then, it was an array of apartments and condos. On the southeast corner was a ten-story senior citizen apartment building. One thing for certain, traffic here was awfully bad for at least sixteen hours a day, Glen would know that.

On the radio, “This is Satan, and you are listening to a special edition of Midnight Metal!”

That followed by the patented sinister laugh.

“Midnight Metal is sponsored by:” followed by a laugh that seemed childish, “McDonalds! I’m lovin’ it.”

“Oh boy,” Glen said sarcastically, “Ronald McDonald has more money than Satan.”

Jim and Jasmine chuckled at that.

“Pretty soon, he’ll have more money than God. Then heaven will be McDonald land, and hell will be slaving in McDonald land.”

“Hey, there is a McDonalds over there.” Jim said.

“You want Mickey D’s?” Glen asked.

“Yeah, Satan possessed me to say yes to it.”

“Well, let’s make Ronald McDonald richer.”

 

            Todd had sat on a weight-lifting bench in his garage, lifting two forty-pound dumbbells simultaneously with range while looking in the mirror. The garage was large enough to fit two cars inside, with a shade of blue painted wall and typical items found in one, sans some of the tools Rob owned. Todd had serious thoughts of anger. His mind went to seeing himself in first person view punching the faces of people he had issues with and hated. He used the dumbbells in a hand-swinging motion. He pretended to punch Jimbo in the face, next Glen, then Tommy for his insults at the jail, all three of the Eastpointe gang members who assaulted him and took his money and drugs, then finally, he made his way to Jasmine with more emphasis.

“Bitch! Whore! Cunt! Dike!” Todd said over and over with swinging the weights.

“Jesus, would you calm down.” said Rob from behind.

Todd slowly looked over with some embarrassment to see Rob outside the garage boundary line, it was open. Rob held a sports bag and wore a leather coat.

“Todd, I know that you’re angry, but geez, let it go.”

Todd dropped the dumbbells, the fell hard to the concrete ground and he muttered, “Fuck you, Rob.”

He looked away from him and to the front door of the house and said, “Well, it was fun while it lasted.”

He then heard his mom say, “Rob, just go. You’ll hear from my attorney.”

Rob turned around and said, “I bet the cops would like to know about what goes on around here.”

Todd engagingly pointed at Rob, “You better not fuckin’ rat on us, I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass, faggot!”

Rob did hear that, but he didn’t stop, he kept a’ walking to his Gray Silverado.

“Hey, you hear me!?” Todd again, he wanted Rob to take a look at his intimidation.

Colleen walked around the corner and urged Todd to stop, “Just let him go.”

Rob drove away.

            Colleen closed the garage door with the automatic remote on the side and sat on the bench.

She tapped on the empty space next to her, “Come sit with me.”

Todd refused with a shake of his head.

She frowned harsh and asked, “I bailed you out of jail and you treat me like shit?”

Todd interrupted, “I’m not trying to treat you…”

“Yes, you are.” Colleen said.

Todd sighed and looked down.

“Don’t be like Jim and Jasmine, they don’t show me PDA anymore. Jim literally runs from me when I try. I remember you and Jim would always do that when I asked.”

Todd looked up, “We grew up.”

“You’re never too old to hug and kiss your mother.”

“I’m not a fucking retard like Jim.”

She hesitated a little at first, “Todd, sit next to me, now.” with wide eyes.

With his own hesitation, he sat next to her. She put her arms around him quickly and squeezed with a smile on her face. The he kissed him three times on the cheek.

“Mom, stop that.” Todd said with embarrassment, with rosy red cheeks.

“Nobody can see us.”

Todd looked away and inched away from her.

“And one more thing, you do your intimidation when you go out and deal, not to Rob. That alone can have the divorce go in his direction. You know he will speak about the drugs.”

“I’ll fuckin’ beat the shit out of him if he does.” Todd snapped his attention to her with fury due to that mention.

“No, you cool it. We are going to stop with the pill dealing for a while.”

“We can deal in Port Huron.”

“We will wait. You cool it for now.”

Todd sighed with fury, then he calmed down and asked, “Eastpointe gang?”

“I really don’t have connections to Detroit gangs, or any gangs north of the Eight Mile line to handle the problem. Glen’s cousin’s gang is out in South Carolina, so that one is out of the question.”

“They are all fags anyway, why them?”

“They have done things. Speaking of which, while you are laying low, I’m gonna try to see what Glen is up too. He was with those thugs at the jail.”

“Who’s going to watch him? I’ll do it.”

“You keep going to work.”

“I’ll beat it out of Jimbo, we both work tomorrow.”

“No, we won’t. You just stay calm and no mentions of it.”

“Please, I can make him speak. I’ll beat his ass.”

“No, no. No family violence, no domestic disputes. Myra has been on my ass about some of the things you say and do, especially what you did last month. Calling a customer a queerbait for buying a gay magazine?”

Todd looked away.

“I’ll mention it again.”

“Don’t, please.”

“Stop being angry for what happened to you when you were twelve.” Colleen said sternly.

He bowed down with defeat.

“That was a long time ago, bad things happen. But please, stop with the hatred, even at work. Myra will fire you and there is nothing I can do with that. The customer in question complained to the HQ about that. Please, don’t do it again.”

“Okay…” Todd muttered.

“I’m going to find out about Glen, don’t try to look for yourself, just stay put.” Colleen added.

 

            Glen left his Ford Focus and stepped his way to Regatta’s. His phone had ringed with Rudy calling.

He answered, “Rudy.”

“Yes, I got AB the share.”

“Black Friday sucked.”

“I know.”

“Okay, I’m about to do business, can I call you back?” he said to Rudy when he opened the front door.

“Okay, will do, talk at you later.”

Glen entered an extremely busy restaurant with a little line just right after one would enter. He saw Regatta approach and ask if anyone would be interested in the bar or table, or if they had reservations. She saw Glen and she smiled on, “Mario’s table?”

Glen smiled, “Um, I guess so.”

“Follow me.” she said.

He followed her to the bar area where she lead him to a round table of six, but with only two seats occupied at that time, Mario and his daughter.

“Go ahead and sit.” Regatta said.

That Glen did while Mario drew a wide smile on his face upon seeing Glen.

“My man, sit down please. It’s on me today, you making it all great for me. I wish I discovered you a while ago.”

Regatta, although seemed a little rushed, had sat too close to Glen, perhaps a little too close.

Glen regarded her cougar-like attitude, but said to Mario, “not a good idea for you to do that, I just got into this a year-and-a-half ago.”

“Yeah, but for just past a rookie, you sure know your shit.” Mario said with his hand moving around, typical conversation movement.

“I have advisors.”

“Yes, I know. Look, I don’t mind you working with advisors, that’s up to you. But keep that black man away from my Pizza place.”

Glen wanted to ask why, but he knew a couple of possible answers on that reason. He was about to speak until he felt Regatta rub her foot on his foot, playing footsies. Although Glen could say that Regatta looked very good for her guess age group of late fifties to early sixties, he simply wasn’t attracted to her, but didn’t feel seriously uncomfortable.

“Forgive her, she likes young American guys.” Mario said.

“I can see that.”

Then to her, “Regatta, take it easy.”

She did, “Sorry, Mario, I just like these young boys from America, they got big ones.”

At the corner of his eye, Glen saw Mario’s daughter shake her head with embarrassment.

“I’ll be back, I have to run this restaurant, too many people and too many mouths to feed.”

She rushed out of her chair and went to the dining room area.

“Are you and her related?” Glen asked.

“Me and Regatta are cousins, both born in Italy. Why don’t you look under your plate.”

Glen did not realize that he had a plate in front of him, he lifted it up to see five Benjamin’s folded in half.

“This for?”

“Some of Amel’s winnings came back and we got in cash. There is your cut, ten percent.”

“That’ll work.” Glen said.

“Also, I want to add that you are now in spot two with Amel. I got Scotty now and you’ll be going to my Pizza Place for bets, you don’t have to fuck around with that fake cop Juby.”

“I like that, was never a fan of him.”

“Yeah, he’s a little jerkoff, but for some reason Amel likes him, probably because he found you.”

“Found me? Juby was threatening to me at first, that’s not really a finding.”

“Well, basically it is. I never knew that the biker gang was doing much in the gambling.”

“Well, I guess they were.”

Mario looked at him funny, “You don’t look like a biker, you look like a guy who should be on one of those teen drama shows they have here in America.”

Glen smiled at that, “I heard that, but I’m a little too old for that. I’m thirty-two.”

“You should use that money for acting lessons. Maybe you can make more money and not have to do your stupid job at Ropers, perhaps I can say, ‘I had a guy work for me, he’s a famous actor now doing actions movies and shit.’”

Glen gave it the thought, and thought that now he is affiliated with a mafia of sorts, perhaps he will never be let out, unless he can buy his way out.

Mario continued on, “But anyway, I like what you’ve been doing. You a high-riser. I’ll let you work with your brother or cousin or whomever it is you related to with that biker gang.”

“It’s Rudy, he’s my cousin, but more like a brother.”

He relaxed his hands and looked at Glen funny once again, “How did you become some guy having a higher office at Ropers and your brother goes into a motorcycle gang?”

He knew that Mario would meddle into his history, perhaps needing to know what his employees are capable of being loyal or being on bullshit, so he said, “It just happens.”

Mario laughed and said, “Let me know if you have any issues. You got any family, people you know having an issue with you and you doing this?”

“Yes, actually, I do.” Glen said.

 

            Twenty minutes later and food recently served, Glen finished off with, “So, this guy in question, along with his strange mother can be a problem.”

“Eh,” Mario nodded, “he doesn’t sound like he’s tough. I have men working for me who could easily knock his head off.”

Regatta had sighed harshly with a shake of her head, “I know this man too, and his mother.”

Mario was about to bite into his spaghetti, until he said to her, “You do?”

“Not personally, but Glen has been here a few times previous, with this guy and the guy’s family. Last week, this guy was cussing and doing stupid stuff. I told him I’d personally beat his ass if he continues being a prick.”

Mario looked to Glen, “So how come you are with the family of your dead girl?”

“Todd’s younger brother Jim is one of my helpers, he’s good as an analyst.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to hang out with this Todd guy or his crazy mother. What are trying to do?”

“Help Jim and his sister, who will never be in the same page as Todd and their mother, away from their clutches.”

“Ahh,” Mario waved his hand forward, “sometimes, you just got to let it go. Maybe he wants his mother bossing him around, and shit like that. I wouldn’t invest too much time into trying to keep him away from the monsters, he should fight his own wars.”

 Glen looked over to Mario’s daughter after he mention that, and began to wonder if that was the case with her, only perhaps having an overbearing father.

 

            After dinner was done but he could not retreat as of yet, Glen walked outside for a smoke. There happen to be three men dressed in sweaters and perhaps had the kind of employment level Glen had, only better. He was looking to make conversation with the three, but as he studied them a little more, they appeared to be in their forties and fifties, the gray in their hair became apparent for him. Something Glen lacked was friends around his age, but he could blame his professional life and illegal activity he is sponsoring in, not to mention that one could be on the internet for hours to cure boredom. Something he did a lot in the late 90s when the AOL Boom come up. Endless chats with strangers around the world and the introduction of internet trolls. Nowadays, you can find them In YouTube along with MMO games saying things they would never say to a bigger person who can bring an attack.

            Instead, he walked away from the three, regarding that when they were teenagers, you can almost smoke wherever you wish. Glen walked to the end of the plaza and viewed the traffic from the intersection, seeing cars stopping and going at the four-way. He saw the north and south traffic go while east and west waiting for that light to turn green, while so, the north and south traffic looking to make a left turn would have to wait for the center light holding the left turn box above to turn green, or for traffic to clear.

            After staring at that traffic for about two minutes and getting to the bitter end of the cigarette. Glen heard footsteps from behind, judging by the sound of the shoes, it sounded awfully similar to high heels, he turned to see Mario’s daughter approaching with a heavy winter coat on.

“It’s not that cold out.”

She gets out her own smoke and lit it, “Why didn’t you call me?”

Glen tossed his dead cigarette butt onto the parking lot, “I’m kinda seeing someone.” He lied.

“Really?”

“Yes, I personally like you, but I’m not too sure your father would be too keen on his daughter with one of his gamblers.”

“I with Amel for a couple of years, my dad wouldn’t give a shit. I’ve been fucked by plenty of his gamblers.”

This kind of talk didn’t surprise Glen. He then asked, “Are you embarrassed by your father?”

She smoked with her eyebrows lifted up, “I just don’t like being around him, how do you know?”

“Somebody I know has an embarrassing dramatic mother, he and her don’t get along well.”

“Does she do illegal shit like my father does? It’s just a matter of time before the pigs bust him. Chances are good you are one of them.”

Glen shook his head, “I can highly assure I’m not.”

“Bullshit, I bet you are.”

He lightened up, “I’m not.”

She smoked her cigarette, then said, “You should of gave me a call. But I was more interested in the black man.”

“Tommy?”

She says, “Yeah, if you’re not going to call me, you narc.”

She then walked away, dropping her cigarette not finished and stomped it to the ground.

Glen asked, “You sure you want Tommy?”

She didn’t reply, she just headed inside with Regatta without a coat exiting and heading towards Glen.

“You want more spaghetti?” she asked.

“I’m full, thank you anyway.”

“That sucks, I wanted to give you more.”

Glen smiled, “You like young American guys?”

She smiled wide, “Yes, I do.”

“How about young African-American guys?”

 

            A while later, Glen heard knocks on the door of his condo, he got off the couch and headed to it.

He heard Regatta say, “Is that black man coming?”

“This should be him.” Glen said.

He opened the door to see Tommy dressed in a Tennessee Titans jersey of Chris Johnson’s, black pants and also a small coat over that jersey, let’s not forget the pendant charm. He entered the condo with a wide smile on his face.

“It pays to be black, Glen. It fuckin’ pays, nigga.”

“Really? You should have been around when I was in high school.”

“I was in fuckin’ Kindergarten when you were a freshman in high school. I had to go to some shithole while you had to go to some rich people school.”

“Not in high school? East Detroit High was built when people of my former religion were being persecuted, they haven’t done any additions since.”

“Fuck school, is it that broad at the pizza place?”

“One of her friends.”

Tommy took off his shoes standing up, “Is she hot?”

“Not as much as her, but suitable.”

“But she like’s black dicks?” he said while taking off the other shoe.

“She says she does.”

He dropped his coat on the floor, “Damn, I kinda wanted that asshole’s daughter. You know that Mantis and this Mario motherfucker don’t get along. You might have some problems with this down the road.”

“Do I have to worry about Mantis coming in here while I’m sleeping and putting a gun to my head?”

“Nah, he ain’t mad at you.” Tommy said, he took off the jersey to see the physique of Tommy, skinny and slim.

“Don’t strip naked in front of me, you get the room with the futon.”

Tommy stopped what he was doing, “What? Fuck that, let’s us do it in your bed. I won’t bust a nut on your bed.”

“No, futon, my future wife and I don’t want anyone else banging on my bed.”

“Future wife? So you are dating again?”

“Kinda sorta.”

Tommy was about to ask on who Glen was dating, until they heard Regatta from the bathroom, “I’m almost ready.”

They both heard that thick Italian accent and Tommy asked, “First time I’m banging someone foreign. How old is she, she sounds kinda old.”

“She’s in her thirties.”

“She married, seeing someone? Sick of Italian cocks? Wants some black meat?”

Glen shrugged, “I guess.”

“Okay.” Tommy said as he made his way to the living room, he asked, “She in the bathroom?”

“She’s getting ready, trying to make herself look a little better.”

Tommy stopped and looked at Glen “She isn’t one of these sex slaves? Mantis has stories on how he is banging these Albanian girls.”

“No, not at all.” Glen said, but that made him think that Amel and Mario may also be involved with that business, something Glen made a cautious permanent note about.

“Alright,” Tommy said with a smile, then announced to the mystery woman, “I’ll be in the other room with the futon when you are ready.”

“I’m pretty much ready.” Regatta said from the bathroom with a closed door.

Before Tommy walked into the hallway, Glen asked, “Your picks for tomorrow?”

He stopped, “Yeah, I texted that shit to you.”

“Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

The sound of a teapot whistling from the kitchen had hit the ears of the two.

“You making tea?”

“Yes, helps relax me.”

“Whatever.” Tommy said, he headed to the other room.

            Glen got his tea and made himself a cup, he grabbed his coat and went out the front door for some fresh air, smiling at the joke he was about to push. He knew that although Regatta looked good for her age, and the makeup would do a little better, likely, it would horrify Tommy. He stood by the front door sipping his tea.

            Tommy had finally striped himself naked and sat on the futon. He made a quick note of discontent on having to do it on the futon, opposed to the bed. He thought of the idea of heading to the bed and was going to lead her to it once she was done. He heard the bathroom door open and saw the silhouette of her in the dark.

“So, you are the black man that’s gonna be fucking me tonight?” she said.

Tommy smiled, “That’s me, ready for a big black cock in your Italian cunt?”

Regatta said, “You betcha.”

She flipped the light switch and saw the wide smile of Tommy turn upside down.

“What the fuck!?” he said with disgust

Yes, Regatta looked lovely… for her age. But the guessed age was something he wasn’t looking for.

He stood up with his large erect cock beginning to shrink as Regatta approached with open arms.

“You the fuckin’ Italian Betty White!”

“Eh, bullshet, I’m fifty-eight, Betty White’s one hundred.”

“Hell no bitch, you older than my mom, if my grandma were alive, she’d be about a few years older than you, what the fuck is this?”

“Come on, I look forty-something. Older women know more and were not the spoiled cunts like young American girls you try to fuck.” She said while advancing dangerously close to him.

“Hell no, you wrinkly bitch.” Tommy said while getting away.

He ran around her with her saying, “What are you, a faggot?”

            Glen took a few more sips of the tea while the aura faded into the cold air, he then heard the front door open harshly with Tommy propping out with his pants and shoes on, holding his undershirt, jersey, jewelry and his coat.

Glen laughed while shaking his head.

“Man, fuck you Glen! What the fuck!”

He took a breath to stop the laughing, “Augh boy, you feel for my joke.”

“You a fuckin’ asshole Glen! I get arrested by racist cops, my boy Mantis takes all my money and you fuckin try to get this old grandma to stick my nice black cock in her old wrinkly smelly pussy?”

Glen with a wide smile, “she loves you black dudes.”

“Man, fuck you Glen, you asshole. We ain’t working with each other no more. Consider those football picks my last help.”

Tommy literally jogged to his Cadillac and drove off, but before flipping Glen the bird.