Chapter 23 - It's the Small Things That Can Kill You! - Coffee and a Story

                 Chapter 23 – Coffee and a Story

In the minutes before the lights went out at the Happy Meadows Rest Home, Clara and Joey were in the apartment of a newly admitted Frank Calabrese.  Frank was in a deep sleep in a comfortable bed down one of the longer hallways, some distance from the main lobby. The light coming through the crack in the bedroom door played over the scars on the head of the six-foot five-inch hitman for the Tony Accardo mob.

Clara remembered doing extensive research on Frank’s life, at least the public records that were available. She had researched several diaries of prisoners that were institutionalized in the Chicago prison system at the same historic periods that Frank was present. Clara approached the sleeping giant and looked at the grotesque scars rippling over his forehead. She remembered reading accounts of how they came to be. Accounts that differed slightly. So much of Frank’s personal history had become criminal justice mythology in his brief time on earth. Clara felt like her new relationship with Joey Flowers had given her a strange and unlikely opportunity to get to know Frank in ways that few others did.

The door to Frank’s bedroom creaked a bit. It was Joey. He came through, opening the door slightly with his elbow while holding two mugs of coffee. The light from Frank’s small living room allowed her to see the beverages were still steaming. He moved with the grace of a nimble house cat.

Joey handed Clara a mug. “I didn’t know how you took your coffee, so it’s just black. Nice set up in the kitchenette. They have a coffee maker and a microwave in the apartments.”

She took the mug and nodded. “Happy Meadows is new. They just finished construction on it last year.” Clara stared at Frank’s scars.

“He got those when he was in Joliet Correctional Center.” Joey said while looking down. He blew on his coffee.

“I know. He was locked up with Sterling Hoffman. They were cell mates for about two weeks.  He gave them to him in a fight. It was back in the fifties.” Clara said after she took a sip of her coffee.

“Want to know what really happened between Frank and Hoffman?” Joey asked.

“Yes. Most assuredly I do. Clara took another sip of coffee.

“Well, Frank was a pretty scary guy at the time. He had a private cell until they decided to throw him in the same cell as Hoffman. Hoffman was…”

“He was a rapist and he killed one of his victims.” Clara stated.

“Exactly. He was shunned by the general population. Frank had been quietly doing his time up to this point. Hoffman had this annoying habit of cracking his knuckles. He was also wheezing in his sleep and keeping Frank awake. Frank requisitioned for a new cellmate but was denied.

Day in and day out Frank endured the knuckle cracking and wheezing. He became sleep deprived. Finally, he asked Hoffman to stop cracking his knuckles. The guy said something stupid to Frank. Frank wouldn’t tell me what it was. Anyway, Frank grabbed Hoffman and broke his wrist. But Hoffman had a shank. He went to work on Frank’s head with it. It was a mess. The guards saved Hoffman at the last minute. Frank had him by the throat. They were both slick with Frank’s blood. It took the surgeons most of the night to sew him back together. Then, Hoffman was moved to solitary and Frank had another year added on to his sentence. When he was released, he had those scars. He never said much about them. Just went out a bought a hat to cover them up.”

Clara shook her head. “Not what I was expecting but thanks for the story. This isn’t bad. Is this instant?” Clara remarked.

“Joey laughed. Yeah, I travel with packs of it. The coffee is usually shit at some of the places Sal and I have to travel to. If you leave me your address I can mail some to you. Other things too. Things that Frank might need if he stays or comes back to stay here.” Joey looked up at Clara and gave her a weak but hopeful smile.

“You think he will be safe here if he comes back?” Clara asked with some surprise in her voice.

“I’m optimistic about the possibility. Enough that I’ve paid Happy Meadows so he might be able to stay for a year. Also bribed his parole officer.”

“Clara snort laughed. “What happens now?” she asked.

“I am establishing a backstory with the staff, explaining who Frank is to the staff and administration…so he doesn’t have to.” Joey confessed.  “Right now, they think he is my uncle by marriage and that you are my daughter. It will allow me to visit frequently, at least while I’m between jobs. You would be compensated for dropping by to check on him when I’m on the road. When things slow down, I’ll talk specifically about salary. Don’t say no until you hear my offer. It is considerably more than you might imagine.” Joey set his mug down on the nightstand. “There is an Alzheimer’s unit twenty miles from here. He will need to be moved there eventually. We can worry about that later.”

“That is a lot to think about.” She held out her hand to him. They shook.

“Good enough for now, then. Hey, you seem to know a lot about Frank already.” Joey’s brows furrowed.

“I did a research paper on him in college. I got an “A” on it.”

“Frank will be impressed. I know I am.” He smiled.

“What would I tell him after you leave? He still thinks I’m a younger version of you.” Clara looked concerned.

“Best to tell him the truth. Let him do what he wants with it.”

“What would the truth be? I need to know that we are on the same page.” Clara’s eyes bore into his.

“The truth is, I’m going to work his contracts and mine for a while. I’m replacing him. He trained me to do that. I’m sending his pay back to you. You are my daughter and I am providing for both of you.” Joey wasn’t smiling. He was not blinking. His intentions were not jest.

“I’m your daughter.”  She challenged. “Don’t play me!”

“If you agree to care for Frank. I’ll be a good provider. We start with that and see where it takes us.”

“Fair enough. Are we in a tight spot right now? No more hiding the truth from me if we are family from here on out.” Clara demanded.

“Yes, but I’m ahead of it. I made some calls to Reno and Vegas. Tony said one of his lieutenants is trying to disrupt the organizational structure. I’m a Made Man in the organization. So is Frank. He is trying to remove both of us.  That is a definite ‘no-no’ organizationally speaking.

Tony has sent help. This asshole in question that is trying to kill me is named Bobby Moretti. He has sicced some of his guys on us. They are already in town. We need to survive until the cavalry comes.”

There was a knock at the door of Frank’s apartment. Jax had pounded on the door and said something, but Joey couldn’t make it out. Joey motioned to Clara to stay in the bedroom with Frank. She looked over at him. He still slept on, peacefully.

The small hitman gracefully produced his .38 from his shoulder holster and proceeded to the apartment door. Clara frantically went over to Frank’s closet and fished through the pockets of his trenchcoat and found what she was looking for. She put it in the pocket of her windbreaker. She looked up at Joey.

“Frank is still asleep. I’m coming with you.” She said firmly.

“Not a good idea.”  Joey countered.

“You need more people watching your back right now than you have available. You also have no experience managing Jaxon. He can be a bit much sometimes.” She replied.

“Okay. Come on then.”

At that moment the lights flickered and then failed.