The Fisherman & The Mermaid - S01 E09

1 week ago

The Fisherman & The Mermaid - S01 E09

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 9

We dressed around 5:30 and I led Marta in to her first "Mama Meal." I'd had probably hundreds and I always gained at least two pounds by the time she let me leave the table.

We began with a hot antipasto. I selected several dishes for Marta including some broiled shrimp, calamari rings, baked clams, and my favorite-crab- stuffed mushrooms. When Marta leaned over to tell me how good it was I reminded her it was only the first course.

"Uh...how many will there be?" Everyone laughed. "Four." "Five." Someone even suggested seven. Oh God, seven courses? I'd burst!

After the antipasto we enjoyed a delicious Italian salad or insalata as Mama called it.

I'm sure Marta was feeling a bit full when Mama brought out the pasta-spaghetti with homemade meatballs and hot and sweet sausage along with garlic bread. Marta balked a bit at the garlic until I reminded her I was having plenty. "You'll need it for self defense," I told her and we all laughed again, Marta included.

Following a huge bowl of pasta and meat, the only kind served in Mama's house, she brought out not her usual roast beef, but my favorite-pot roast. "We having this for you, Peter. I know this you're favorite." Mama always speaks like this even though know she was born in this country and graduated high school in the top half of her class, attending community college for a year before marrying an up-and-coming Anthony Pellegrini.

Foolishly, I had several helpings of pot roast with mashed potatoes. I could see Marta slowing. "Save some room for dessert. It'll be worth the wait." Marianne, Celia, Andrea, and Marta volunteered to clear the table while we men folk recovered. I could not imagine going through this every single week as Papa and Jimmy did. Marianne, Celia, and Andrea returned to the table, leaving Marta alone with Mama in the kitchen. I knew this was no accident. It probably meant trouble for me.

Eventually Marta returned, her arms full of a huge platter of cannoli. Some people love cannoli-I hate it. It is so sweet I can't stand to bite into it. Mama followed Marta smiling as she carried a big Italian cheesecake. Marta walked around the table helping everyone to a cannoli but passing by me. "Mama told me none for you-have you been bad?" Again everyone laughed, much to Marta's chagrin.

"No, Marta, Peter can't stand cannoli-says it is too sweet. He must be sweet enough without it, eh, Peter?"

"Yes, Papa," I agreed, "they don't come any sweeter than me." Again more laughter, this time including Marta.

Mama patted my head as she slipped a huge slice of cheesecake in front of me. Mama placed three bottles on the table-Italian cordials. I told Marta about each. "Amaretto di Saronno is an almond based liquor. It's sweet and tasty, too, but it has to be sipped, especially by an amateur like you.

Cream Limoncello is based on lemon rinds and can be sour. The cream version is really smooth, but it'll sneak up on you. It's stronger than you might think once you taste it. The final bottle is Mellone, a liqueur based on a melon, this one's cantaloupe. I would try the Limoncello. I think you'll like it."

"What are you having?" she asked. I shook and poured the Limoncello for both of us. We toasted and sipped. Marta grinned her approval. Later the women helped Mama again while Papa, Jimmy, and I retired to the living room. I asked Papa about calling the FBI.

"Peter, you're a civilian-not involved in our work which is almost entirely legitimate now...but not quite. Any citizen with the information you now have would call the FBI. They're not so bad- most of them anyway. Tell them about the life insurance policy.

Cartwright's debts-don't worry about the Martucci's. You won't mention them by name, but the Fed's will know... they're not idiots. I expect Mr. Cartwright will not be walking anytime soon. Set up an appointment for tomorrow morning.

Tell then you have armed security-they'll be in uniform-so they'll have to identify themselves before they're allowed to see you and Marta. Give them a code word. I'm not worried about Cartwright-he'll be in the hospital, but he has friends who are involved and presumably they will not want to get caught so Marta is not out of the woods yet, and neither are you. I suggest you prepare ahead of time. You know what I mean." I nodded, I knew exactly what he meant and I'd do what needed to be done even if I had to kill each and every one

of them.

I knew all about killing. My marksmanship instructors in basic training wanted me to go straight to sniper school, but the brass wanted me in OCS. I wanted no part of being an officer so I went to sniper school. I practiced so much I was able to shoot a man in the eye at 1000 yards. I'd done it any number of times, but I hadn't told Marta. I didn't want to scare her. If any of these guys tried for her they'd be dead.

We left around eight and before we did Papa called a friend in the city about notifying Marta's parents; I could see how relieved she was. Marta wanted to stay, but I told her I had a lot to do. On the way home I told her how I was so jealous of Jimmy when I was a kid. His dad would come home one day with a mink coat for his mom and I remembered one time they got three color TV's.

Then I saw Mr. Pellegrini's picture in the newspaper, saying he was some kind of gangster. never mentioned it to anyone, certainly not to Jimmy or anyone in his family. All I knew was that he was my friend and that his family was nicer to me than my own. I was in high school when it became an open secret. By then Papa was well up the ladder-all the way to Capo, or lieutenant. Papa had helped me many times along the way, even with my college expenses without ever asking anything in return. In fact, I told her, he absolutely forbade me getting involved in any type of criminal activity. He was even upset one time in junior high when I covered for Jimmy, pointing the police in a different direction. It was the kind of thing any friend would do for another, but Papa was furious. I never crossed the line again.

I waved to our guards, now in full APS uniforms, the APS standing for Anthony Pellegrini Security. They all carried shotguns or semi- automatic rifles. I went straight to my arms closet, removing my long rifle and scopes. I lowered the folding attic stairs and carried the rifle and scopes up before returning for two full boxes of ammunition and several clips. I set everything up on a low table by a gabled window that would open if needed. It was from here that I shot over the burglars' heads. I'd be shooting at their heads this time and I wouldn't be missing.