Chapter 6 - It's the Small That Can Kill You! - Small Things

                                           Chapter 6 – Small Things

Clara had dragged Fenton and me out the back exit of the kitchen. She was breathless and kept looking over her shoulder presumably to make certain that there was no one else that could be listening to what she was about to tell us. Danny looked out at us once. Clara waved him back inside.

 I heard the door slam shut as we walked over to a deteriorated picnic bench by two pine trees where Danny sometimes took smoke breaks during warm months. This September had been so unseasonably hot that I wished we had stayed inside under the air conditioning.

I looked out over the sad condition of the back parking lot. Dad had managed to keep the diner’s head above water, economically speaking, but hadn’t found the cash yet to repair the pavement behind the diner. There were potholes that looked more like lunar craters than anything else I’ve ever seen without a telescope. Every spring dad would have a load of gravel delivered to the back of the diner. It was my job to fill up gigantic divots. Somehow the potholes would empty themselves by fall. I knew this meant the diner was doing more business. More traffic brought more people in to eat but more traffic emptied the potholes. Year i and year out, the shoveling just seemed more and more futile to me.

“That was the ugliest guy I’ve ever seen.” I whispered.

“I’ll bet his reflection filed for witness protection.” Fenton added.  

“Oh my God!” Clara squealed. “Do you know who that was?”

“Um, no. I don’t’ get out much. I’ll bet that he doesn’t either. Who was he?” Fenton said in a monotone.

“That was Frankie Calabrese.” Clara said and took a quick look over her shoulder again.

“Who?” The blank look on my face spoke volumes, as it often did.

“Frankie Calabrese AKA Frankie ‘The Hook’?  Frank ‘The Tank’ Calabrese, AKA ‘Frankenstein Calabrese’?” Clara looked alternately at our faces. He’s an enforcer for Tony Accardo. They came up together back in the fifties." 

My face continued to look blank.  It wasn’t that my mind was slowing down. I was fact checking the names Clara was spouting like crazy. This was just the way my ADD appeared to some people. I had the same problem in school. The teachers thought I was slow. Cognitively impaired.

“Oh my God…You've never heard of Tony ‘Big Tuna’ Accardo? Nothing!” Clara was clearly getting frustrated.

“Um, Clara, your eyes are really dilated and there is a little spittle right there on the corner of your mouth. You look a little agitated right now.” I replied trying to keep my voice low.   

“Okay Clara, now I’m getting a little anxious, so I’m going to do my breathing exercises that Dr. Knivens taught me.” Fenton pulled a plastic sandwich bag out of his hip pocket and put it to his lips and blew into it. The amount of noise he made was easily enough to mask the sound of what Clara was telling me. This didn't help matters.

The back door of the diner opened, and Danny stuck his head out. “They’re gone.” He screamed. Then he saw Fenton with his plastic bag. “Cox, you’d better not be huffing paint out there.”

Fenton’s immediate response was to scream “Oh God!” and drop the bag.

Clara face palmed and, in a tired voice said, “Look, let’s go back inside where it’s cool and I’ll fill you in. What is your friend Mikey doing running around with a ‘hit man’?”

“I don’t know. Are you sure that was Frankie Calabrese.”

“Do you know any other person that looks like Frankenstein's Monster?” She challenged. I’ve seen dozens of pictures of him. He’s famous.” Clara said authoritatively.  

We walked back to the rear entrance. Fenton bent over to retrieve his bag. He put it back into his pocket. “Don’t you mean ‘infamous’.” He said trying to correct her.

“Aren’t you supposed to use a brown paper bag for that breathing stuff.” I asked.

“No, that’s just what Dr. Knivens used when he demonstrated in our group. Plastic is more sanitary. Except this one touched the ground, so it’s no good anymore. Fenton continued.

“I heard you could just use your hands. You know. Cup your hands and breath into them.” I suggested.

“Eewie.” He said with a slight shudder.

Fenton scowled at his hands and tried to dust them off. “Do either of you have a handkerchief?”

“Yipes, Fenton! Just wash your hands when we get inside.” Clara had had enough of Fenton for one day.

                                                                     *      *      *

When we got back inside Danny was firing up the grill again. There was a small child sitting on one of the kitchen stools. He looked to be about four or five years old. The kid was wearing an oversized Batman T-shirt and purple shorts. He sat motionless on the stool while Danny continued to make a ham and cheese sandwich on the grill.

“So, what did I miss out in the parking lot? Danny said with a smirk on his face. Fenton silently walked past him and towards the rest room.

“Apparently, we just had a gangster in the diner. Frank Calabrese.” I announced.

“No kidding.” Danny said with one raised eyebrow. “Scary lookin' guy. He sure looked like he could take care of himself.”

“Oh, I know how his face got that way…you know, the disfigurement.”  Clara suddenly seemed to get her second wind.

“How do you know so much about this guy.” I scratched the back of my neck. It felt sweaty.

“Oh, I took a community college course called Chicago Gangland. We studied Capone, the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, everything associated with Chicago’s dark past. I wrote a paper on Tony Accardo and Frank Calabrese.”

Fenton returned from the bathroom. “You need more toilet paper in the men’s room.”

Danny looked over at Fenton. “Thanks. I’ll get on it after I feed my nephew.”

“There are only twenty-three squares of toilet paper left.” Fenton stated.

“Duly noted. Danny replied. “Clara, Jax…this is my nephew, Norbert. He is my sister is Frannie’s kid. I’m watching him for a few hours this afternoon. Later we might go over to the YMCA for a swim.”

“Aw, what a cute little boy.” Clara cooed.

Danny sat the child at a table out front. He placed the sandwich in front of him. Clara sit next to him. I sat next to Clara.

“Careful, he likes a certain amount of space." Danny whispered in our direction. “He’s a biter.”

At that remark, Clara moved a bit. I shifted in my seat and moved my hand off the table just as Norton forcefully brought his fork down where my hand had just been.

“He’s also a stabber.” said Danny, taking the fork away from Norbert to his dismay. The child pouted for a minute but then picked up the sandwich and bit forcefully into it ripping out the middle.

“The kid’s a shark.” I muttered.

“Impressive bite radius.” Said Fenton.

“Tell me some more about this Frank guy.” Said Danny.