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bubblywrites · 3 years

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Running From A Name Chapter 10

“That politician may have been the least of our problems.” Polpo said.

Bruno was taken aback. “What do you mean by that?”

Polpo fiddled with his wine glass. He swished the liquid around the cup but never drank any of it. “It wasn’t just the politician that was killed. I didn’t want to concern you with this, but now I guess you're involved. Several soldatos were murdered. Their territories were annexed by some mysterious group. I believe the ones who killed the politician are from the same group.”

“Couldn’t we just send more members into the overtaken territories to get them back? Part of the reason Passione rose to power so quickly was because of the use of stands. It shouldn’t be a problem to take these men out.”

Polpo cupped his chin. “Your right. It should be that easy. But the men I sent were killed. However, one did survive. In his report, he said, ‘Everyone with him was killed by bullets, knives, and something else unworldly.”

Bruno swallowed, then whispered, “A stand ability.”

“Exactly. I sent another person undercover to investigate the overtaken areas. He found this in one of the restaurants.” Polpo held up a small plastic bag with fairy blue jawbreakers in it.

Bruno perked an eyebrow. “I don’t understand. It’s just candy.”

“I thought the same thing too. But the man I sent found several people with this bag of candy. When he went to the nearest convenience stores, he couldn’t find these jawbreakers on any of the shelves. He was able to trace it back to an abandoned warehouse. Inside the warehouse, there were people high off their asses and surrounded by this stuff. He said they called it ‘Fairy Magic.’ So in other words-”

“The candy is a drug.” Bruno interrupted. His mouth went dry. His hands were clenched into fists and were trembling. Anger boiled deep inside of him, threatening to morph his stoic face into one of a raging bull.

Polpo glimpsed at Bruno’s hands then his face. He swirled the wine in his cup. “I understand your anger Buccellati. Our territory was stolen to expand some greedy mongrel’s drug trade. I do have a lead though.”

“You do?” Bruno asked.

“The man I sent to investigate saw a pimp there who has connections to us. We suspect he may have done more there than just get high. He could be moving the drugs into Passione’s turf. But we’ve had difficulty getting in contact with the pimp for a while. It’s only a struggle because he was shot by a cop and taken into custody.”

The idea of pimping women made Bruno gag. Ever since Alma told him about her mother, he’s worked hard to steer clear of pimps. Bruno wished he could be surprised about Passione’s connections with some of them. “Wasn’t that the case about the dirty cop?” Bruno asked.

Polpo nodded. “Yes, it was. I want you to try to find that cop. See if you can get any info from him about this mess.”

Polpo waved his hand, a signal that Bruno was dismissed.

Bruno stalked the scene of Abbachio’s crime for the majority of the day. The crime scene was a small abandoned house tucked inside of a former alleyway. The house had paint peeling off the walls, broken wooden boards, and empty liquor bottles strung across the floor.

The sky changed into dusk. Raindrops splashed onto Bruno’s shoulders. He opened his umbrella and prepared to leave. But Bruno’s head snapped at the sound of glass clattering. At the door of the house, stood a fit, tall man. He trudged out of the building’s darkness, allowing Bruno to get a better look at him. The man dressed in all black. The tail of his coat touched the bottom of his baggy pants. He wore a belt with a golden letter A strapped to his hips. His white hair was bone straight until it reached the base of his neck. The ends of his hair stiffened outward into mountain peaks. The man hung his head low. He held an empty wine bottle in his hand and swayed on his feet.

“You are Leone Abbacchio, right?” Bruno asked.

The man lifted his head. His eyes were layered with bags that were filled with pools of dark circles. After seeing his face, Bruno understood. Leone Abbacchio’s failure haunted not only himself but also the building. They were one entity.

“What do you want?” Abbacchio answered. His voice was gruff and hoarse.

“I need to ask you about the incident that happened here.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you. Now leave.”

Bruno stood his ground. “The man your partner shot was an important part of figuring something out for my organization. He’s in custody, so I need you to tell me everything you can about him.”

Anger flashed in Abbacchio’s eyes. He swung his arm against the wall, shattering the bottle in the process. “I said leave!” He roared.

Bruno sighed. “Abbacchio, I don’t know you that well. Matter of fact, I don’t know you at all. But one thing I can say is, how long will you let this demon from your past take over your life? I want to believe that the righteousness you once had, never died out. You can still be a man who can achieve great things.”

Bruno turned to walk away, but he stopped when Abbacchio called out to him. “What’s pushing you forward. Why do your eyes glow with conviction? Why do you talk with a sense of duty and responsibility?”

“Because I have things I want to achieve.” Bruno said without hesitation. “Fate has weaved a path for all of us. I want to stay true to the one it set for me.” Bruno closed his umbrella. He ignored the cold raindrops that drenched his suit. He wanted Abbacchio to see him fully. He wanted Abbacchio to see that he viewed him as an equal. “You’ve lost sight of your path, but I can get you back on it, Leone Abbacchio.”

Abbacchio’s mouth was slightly open. He stared at Bruno as if he were a lost child.

Bruno spoke. “There is a restaurant named Libeccio’s. When you feel ready to change, I’ll be there waiting.”

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Alma’s hands focused on wiping the tables, but her eyes were glued to the reserved seating area. Bruno hadn’t eaten in the restaurant for a whole week. When he finally started coming in again, he brought a strange, new companion with him. If Alma were to be honest, Bruno’s new friend had a mean mug that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Ever since he joined Bruno’s entourage, Alma’s been hesitant to serve the reserved table.

“I just wish that scary, white haired guy and Fugo weren’t there so I could talk to Bruno. His blue eyes are so dreamy. And I can listen to him talk all day with that deep voice of his. What I would give to just hear him say, ‘I love you Alma.’” Angelo whispered in Alma’s ear in an exaggerated feminine voice.

Alma elbowed him in the gut. Angelo lurched forward, holding his stomach.

“I was not thinking that you ass.” Alma said, annoyed.

Angelo straightened himself. “Sure you weren't. But there is something you might find more interesting that Buccellati.” Angelo held a white envelope sealed by a red and yellow coat of arms.

Alma snatched the envelope from Angelo’s hand. “This is from the University of Naples.”

“Sure is. I got it from the mailbox just now. I guess the school hasn’t updated your address in the records yet.”

Alma’s feet were nailed to the floor. Angelo had to grab her shoulders to walk her into the kitchen.

Marco peeked at them. “What’s wrong?”

“Alma got a letter from the University of Naples.” Angelo replied.

Marco dropped the pot in his hand to stand over Alma’s shoulder. Everyone in the kitchen stared at her in anticipation. Alma’s hands shook as she peeled off the seal. Her heart had beaten with enough power to burst free from her ribcage. She unfolded the letter and read the first sentence three times. Alma gripped the piece of paper so tight that she crumpled the edges. She jumped up and down, screeching, “I GOT IN!”

The kitchen exploded into cheers and hollers. Alma stopped jumping to read the letter aloud. Her mind moved faster than her mouth, making her words jumbled.

“Dear Alma Calamaro,

We are pleased to offer you admission into the University of Naples’ Art program. The admission staff was very impressed with your credentials and portfolio. On behalf of the admissions committee, we would like to offer you a full ride for all four years of your attendance at the University of Naples.”

The shouting in the kitchen doubled in volume. Marco and Angelo threw their arms around Alma, joining her in the jumping ritual.

Angelo released her to say, “I know the perfect way we can celebrate. We’re having an end of the year party on campus tomorrow. You have to come. It’s a great way to see the campus and chill with some of the students.”

Alma rocked her head side to side. “Parties aren’t really my thing, but I wanna go to this one. I really want to see my future campus.”

Angelo high fived her.

Marco held Alma’s face in his hands and smooched her forehead. “You smart girl. You got a whole full ride. I am so proud of you. I know your parents would be proud too.”

Alma clutched her parents’ wedding bands. “I’m happy to make you and them proud. Thank you zio.”

The kitchen staff came up to Alma to ruffle her hair, pat her on the back, and kiss her cheeks.

Alma’s face hurt from smiling for the entirety of her shift. Her usual fear of taking out the trash was overshadowed by her joy. So much so, she did not sense the person who snuck behind her clamp their hands onto her shoulders.

Alma jumped at the contact. She spun on her heels, but sighed in relief at the figure in front of her. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Bruno, I told you were a creep. And,’ She poked his chest. “I’m still mad about this tattoo.”

Bruno’s lips curled in amusement. He cupped a hand over his ear and said, “My bad. I didn’t catch all that. Your Sicilian dialect comes out when you're upset.”

Growing up, Alma’s parents forbade her from speaking Sicilian. They told her that if she spoke in Sicilian dialect, people from the mainland would never understand what she was saying. As a result, she only spoke in traditional Italian. But when she was with Doc, she only spoke in Sicilian.

Alma rolled her eyes at Bruno. “I said I’m still mad about the tattoo. And that you're a creep.”

Bruno laughed. “You're still not over it?”

“I was the one who suggested we get tattoos in the first place. But you know what you did? Went and got one without me. Traitor.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruno said, struggling to hold in another laugh.

“And he finally apologizes, but it’s not even a genuine one.”

Bruno leaned on the wall. “I heard all that screaming from the kitchen earlier. What happened?”

Alma bounced on the balls of her feet. “I got into the school. On a full ride to.”

“You serious?” Bruno asked, amazed.

Alma hummed, placing her hands on her hips. Bruno grasped her arms and pulled Alma into a hug. She flushed.

“I’m not surprised, but I’m still really proud of you Alma.”

Alma wrapped her arms around Bruno’s middle and smiled into his chest. “Thanks.” She gazed up at him. “Do you mind walking me home?”

“Yes, I do actually.”

“Bruno.” Alma said sternly.

“I’m joking. Yeah, I’ll walk you home.”

As they strolled to Alma’s apartment, Bruno asked, “You haven’t been serving my table recently. What’s the problem?”

“Your new friend is the problem. He has a face that scares children.”

Bruno snorted. “Abbacchio scares you? I agree, he’s not the most approachable person. But he’s not impossible to talk to.”

“If you say so.” Alma mumbled, unlocking her apartment door. She whipped her head to Bruno. “You wanna come in?”

He shrugged his shoulders and stepped through the door. Alma entered after him. She paused to blink at the mess in her living room. There were pillows and snack wrappers surrounding a giant fort made from black couch cushions, multi-colored blankets, and the dining room chairs.

Emilio crawled out of the fort. “You brought Buccellati with you? Yay. You two come inside. It’s scary story night.” He dipped back inside the tower of cushions.

Bruno cocked his head. “Scary story night?”

Alma scratched her cheek. “Yeah. It’s something we started doing on Friday nights a few months ago. We make a giant fort in the living room, and I tell them scary stories. I was so caught up with news from the university, that story night slipped my mind. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I know you're busy.”

Bruno shook his head. “No it’s fine. I’ll stay.”

Alma failed to hide the growing grin on her lips. “Angelo keeps spare pajamas here, so you can wear those. You can find them by the washing machine.”

Alma dashed to her room to change into her pajamas: a pair of red, checkered cotton pants and a short-sleeved black crop top. She rummaged through her shelves. “Where did I put it? Oh, found it.” Alma grabbed the small sketchbook on her top shelf before leaving her room.

Her breath hitched upon seeing Bruno exit the bathroom. His undone braid added volume to his sleek bob. He wore Angelo’s silky black pajama bottoms along with a white tank top. His long arms were on display in their full glory. Alma wanted to run her fingers across the sharp and rigid muscles.

“Something the matter?” Bruno asked.

Alma’s face started burning. “Nope. Nothing’s wrong. Just glad Angelo’s clothes fit.”

Bruno crawled into the fort. Alma turned off all the lights in the house and followed in after him. Isabella shined the flashlight on Alma as she crossed her legs.

“You guys ready?” Alma asked.

Her siblings nodded their heads. Bruno leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Let’s see how scary this story is.”

Alma opened her sketchbook. She began reciting her story while flipping to the corresponding pages.

“There once was a young boy who lived in a poor, little village. Everyday, he and the villagers struggled to find something to eat. Only one house in the village had an abundance of food. And that was the Black Mansion. But everyone in the village avoided the Black Mansion. It sat on top of a hill surrounded by dark storm clouds that shot off booming thunder. Even when the sun was out, it always looked like night time at the Black Mansion.

One day, one of the boy’s friends dared him to go to the Black Mansion.

‘I don’t want to go. It’s scary.’ The boy whined.

‘But I heard that if you go and the people living there like you, they’ll give you food. You could bring some back to the village.’ His friend said.

In hopes of getting food, the boy climbed the hill to the Black Mansion. There were bats flying around every corner of the mansion. Black cats meowed like they were in pain. Terrified, the boy ran to the door and rang the bell.

The door opened slowly with a loud creak. Standing at the door, was a man as tall as a tree. He had a bald head, and his skin was paler than snow. And he wore all black. Behind the man, was a woman who the boy assumed was his wife. She too wore all black. She had giant black spirals for hair, and her skin was just as pale as her husband’s. Even their eyes were black. The boy gulped.

The couple smiled at the boy. They said at the same time, ‘Welcome to our home. Would you like something to eat?’

The boy’s lips quivered as he answered with a weak, ‘Y-yes.’

The couple waved for him to come into their home. The boy jumped at the thunderous clap of the door shutting behind him. As he walked through the dark halls, the eyes on the paintings followed him.

The couple led him to the kitchen. The wife served the boy a plate of glazed ham, fluffy mashed potatoes, and fresh peas.

The boy’s mouth watered. He slowly took a bite of the food. His eyes sparkled. He shoved more and more of the food into his mouth. The wife refilled his plate over and over.

When the boy finished eating, he couldn’t move. The husband leaned in close to his face. He showed the boy his sharp, pointy teeth and said, ‘Now it’s time for us to eat.’ The husband and wife gobbled the boy in one bite.“

Alma turned to the last page in her sketchbook. On the page, was a drawing of the husband and wife. They were baring their jagged teeth with pieces of hair and clothing between the gaps. “The couple spoke in unison, ‘We can’t wait for our next visitor.’”

Alma snuck her hand behind her back and knocked on the leg of one of the chairs. All the color drained from her siblings faces. They screamed and climbed over each to escape the fort.

Alma and Bruno cackled. Alma wiped the stray tears from her eyes. Bruno calmed himself and said, “You make such a happy home for them.”

Alma scooted closer to Bruno. Her hip touched his. Alma rested her head on his warm shoulder. “It's a happy home you will always be welcomed to, Bruno.”

Bruno’s shoulder tensed under her cheek. He moved to lay on the blankets, pulling Alma down with him. He snaked an arm around her waist. Alma’s heartbeat quickened and a deep blush formed on her face.

Bruno cupped Alma’s cheek with his free hand. He caressed her with his thumb. He stared into her eyes and whispered, “Thank you, Alma.”

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