Nicolas

[Crystal]

The digital numbers of the clock on the dashboard switched to read 8:30. Just like the previous three nights that Nicolas had been watching the apartment building, Desi Navarro stepped out of the building, looked to the left, then to the right, and then took a left and headed down the sidewalk with this hands in the pockets of his worn jacket. Nicolas allowed him to walk a few yards before getting out of his car. He adjusted the collar of his jacket and kept a casual pace as he followed the target.

At the age of twenty, when most people were deciding on majors and figuring out what careers to pursue, Nicolas Capritti had it all figured out. He had figured it out at the age of thirteen when he had witnessed the murders of his mother and older brother on the streets of Misterbianco, Sicily. He had known what he was destined to do when the murderers got off on all charges, free to walk on the same road where they had taken two lives. Afterwards, his father looked him straight in the eyes and told him “Don’t depend on a judge to seek the right revenge. You have to do it yourself. Remember that, Nicolas. Always. When this happens, there are two things a man can do—lay down and accept it or take the matter into his own hands to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Three days later, his father had been charged on three counts of murder. He was currently serving a life sentence in prison.

Two years later, at the age of fifteen, Nicolas found his niche with a local underworld family. Though not a well-known family in the country, they did well enough in their town and region. Nicolas began by running errands, aiding those higher in the hierarchy of the family. At the age of seventeen, he was able to go on his first hit, and to the surprise of himself and to the family, he was a natural. He had natural ability to feel for his surroundings, anticipate movements, and perform the job as quietly as possible without attracting witnesses. However, right before Nicolas’ nineteenth birthday, he had gone to the head of the family.

“I no longer want to live here, in Sicily.

“I see. You want to leave. And where will you go?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps just north to France.”

The head of the family smiled slightly and folded his hands on top of his desk. “We will be losing a talented addition to this organization. Tell me what will change your mind. More benefits, perhaps? You are young, you would appreciate that.”

Nicolas offered a faint smile. “No, sir, I don’t believe anything would make me change my mind. I simply need a change of scenery.”

“If that is what you want, I will not stop you from leaving. I trust you, Nicolas.”

He nodded and stood. “You have no reason not to. Thank you, sir.”

“Nicolas, I know some associates who currently live in a region in southern France. If they need any contract work, I will give them your name. My personal recommendation.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

So Nicolas packed his few things, gathered the money that he had earned and moved to Auvernha, a region in southern France. He found a small home in a lower-class neighborhood where he would not be noticed and a job at a distribution company as a sales associate so that he could maintain his anonymity. Thanks to the recommendations offered him, he was able to find contract jobs with the underworld of France and make a name for himself.

Which was the precise reason he was currently following Desi Navarro. The man had owned a dry cleaning business until it went under three weeks ago. Not surprisingly, the he was upset by this, blamed one of the families that worked in that neighborhood, and threatened all of them with their lives. It was said out of anger, or so they had thought. Then Desi Navarro had made a mistake by setting another drycleaners on fire, one that was also partially owned by the family. So Nicolas was contacted to take care of the nuisance.

Nicolas picked up his pace until he was within a few feet of the target, close enough to give Mr. Navarro the indication that he was being followed. The moment that the man turned his head to look at him and then try to run, Nicolas grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him into an alleyway, shoving him deeper into the alley while he retrieved his gun. As he pulled it out, he heard a light gasp from behind the target and both men looked towards the little girl who had been heading towards the opening, obviously lost.

“Get out of here.” Nicolas voice was calm and he focused his eyes back on the target. He watched the girl out of the corner of his eye as she pressed her lips together and quietly continued walking, running both hands across the brick wall.

He caught the suspect’s movement before it happened, and put his hands out as Desi reached out and pushed the girl into Nicolas in an attempt to escape. Nicolas grabbed the girl’s shirt to stop her from falling, cocked his gun, and fired two bullets into the left side of Desi Navarro’s back. He put the gun back in his pocket and let go of the girl. A witness.

He let out a sigh and looks back towards the opening of the alley to make sure no one had heard the commotion. In this neighborhood, he didn’t think there would be much notice. Moistening his lip, he turned back to the girl. “Go back home.”

The girl bit her bottom lip, but remained silent.

Nicolas checked his watch. “Where do you live? I’ll take you back. You shouldn’t be out this late.”

“Just down the street, in the building with the food center.”

He remembered passing a Brother’s Food Center while following his target. “Come on. Watch your step. Keep your eyes forward.” He walked on her left side so that she could not look at the dead body. He kept his normal pace as he headed back to the girl’s apartment building, ignoring the fact that she had to jog to keep up with him. When they reached the building, he was fully prepared to go back to his car, but he heard yelling coming from the store on the corner, heard people fighting from within one of the apartments. Unsure of the girl’s safety, he opened the door and headed in with her, willing to see that she got inside her apartment safely.

“Which floor do you live on?”

“It’s the third floor. I remember because I have to go up stairs two times. Do you live here too?”

“No,” he answered. He led her up the stairs, glancing at the numbers as he took them two at a time.

“My name’s Ara,”

He looked back at her and then stopped at the third floor. He wanted to get out of here, no make conversation with a five-year-old. “Do you know the number of your apartment?”

“It’s apartment 3F. I had to remember that because sometimes I went to get something from the store on the corner and I forgot one day. Mrs. Brewer had to show me back to my home and I didn’t forget after that. She made sure I remembered so I wouldn’t get lost.”

Nicolas sighed and made his way down the hall. When he reached the right apartment, he knocked on the door and waited. When there was no answer, he knocked again, glancing down at Ara who stood by him, looking at her shoes.

“Are your parents home?” When he received a nod, he knocked on the door again, this time louder. “Are you sure they didn’t go out somewhere?”

“I’m sure,” the girl answered quietly. Nicolas watched her as she bit her lip and looked up at him, her hair coming loose from the bow that held it back. “They’re like that man in the alley.”

The man in the alley. Nicolas looked at her for a moment and then tried the door to the apartment. When he found it unlocked, he paused for a moment before cracking it open, being sure to stand where Ara could not look in. He saw a woman crumpled in the kitchen, a man lying on his stomach, a pistol in his hand. An obvious murder-suicide. Nicolas pinched the bridge of his nose and shut the door. He turned around and headed back to the stairs, not wanting to deal with this at the moment. This wasn’t his job. This wasn’t part of the assignment. He should have just left her in the alley.

When he reached the second floor, he looked back up the stairs to find the girl standing at the top, one hand on the railing, fully prepared to follow him. “Go tell your neighbor. Go stay with her.”

She bit her lip once more. “But I don’t want to stay with Mrs. Brewer. She has a really mean dog that bites my feet.” He could tell she was on the verge of tears, tears that had most likely not yet fallen from witnessing her parents’ deaths.

“Then stay with a different neighbor.”

“I don’t know the other neighbors. I’m not allowed to go over there.”

“What about any relatives? Do you have an aunt or grandparents that live nearby?”

“I was going to my aunt’s house but I don’t know where she lives,” she said as she descended a few steps before stopping.

“F-,” Nicolas mumbled and rubbed his forehead. “I’m sure she’ll come get you. Just wait for her” he said and went down the final flight of steps and out of the building.

He walked the rest of the way to his car, got in, and released a deep breath. He started the car and pulled away from the curb. He could still hear the yelling from the corner store as he approached the building. He noticed two sketchy looking men across the street and he thought about the fighting couple they had heard in one of the apartments. Nicolas gritted his teeth together. He pulled up to the curb in front of the building and slammed his hand against the steering wheel, allowing himself a few choice words before getting out of the car. He headed into the building and headed back up the stairs.

When he approached the second flight of stairs, he found the girl sitting against the railing where he had left her, her knees drawn up to her chest. He sighed. “Come on. Let’s go.” When she lifted her head, he motioned for her to follow him and headed back out of the building. He opened the back door for her. “We’ll find your aunt in the morning.”

[Crystal]

Nicolas in a chair in the living room of his house, the cordless phone next to him and a phonebook in his lap. He looked up at the girl sitting in a chair next to the window, eating crackers.

“What is your last name, Ara?”

“Levenworth.”

“Is your aunt your mother’s sister or your father’s?” He flipped through the pages to find the proper page to look for names.

“Um…my mother’s. Can I go outside and play with that girl across the street?”

Nicolas leaned forward a little to look out the window at the blonde child, around Ara’s age, playing in her front yard. He had yet to make good friends with his neighbors. Once you become friends, people start asking questions, and that was the last thing he needed. “No.” He watched the disappointment show on her face. “Maybe later. What was your mother’s maiden name?”

“What’s that?”

He rubbed his forehead, trying to remind himself to be patient. “Her last name before she married your father. The wife changes the last name when she gets married.”

“Why?”

“It’s just the way things are. Now, what was her last name?”

Ara shrugged and continued looking out the window. “I don’t know. I don’t think it ever changed. I think you’re wrong.”

Nicolas watched her for a moment, wondering if he should have left her at the apartment. “What’s your aunt’s name?”

“Aunt Laura. She has a nice kitten at her house that I get to play with sometimes when I go over there. My daddy wouldn’t let me have a kitten because he said it would just cause too much mess in the house.” She looked over at him. “Do you have any pets?”

“No, I don’t have—“

She interrupted him as she slid off the chair and walked over. “Why not?”

“Because your father was right. They do cause a bigger mess.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re a lot of work.”

“Why?”

Having the girl in his house was beginning to aggravate him. When he had gone to the kitchen in the morning to make himself some coffee, he had found her looking through his pantry for cereal. Having none in the house, he made her a bagel and sent her back to the living room. After sitting down at the table to enjoy his coffee and read the morning paper, he heard the squealing and laughter from the television of Saturday morning cartoons. Asking her to turn it off had not done any good, as it only made her want to sit at the table with him and ask questions.

“Go sit by the window and don’t say another word.” He looked at her. “Do you understand me?”

Ara frowned a little and walked back over to the window. “I was just wondering why…”

He ignored her and tapped a pen on the phonebook. “Do you know your aunt’s last name?”

“She’s just Aunt Laura. I don’t think she has a last name.”

He could feel a headache forming. “Ara, do you know any way to contact her or find out how to contact her?”

“No. She lives far away from us. My mommy said it took a whole half of one hour to get there. That’s a long time!”

Nicolas tossed the phonebook onto the floor, giving up on the quest of finding the girl’s aunt for the time being. He stood and grabbed the phone.

“Can I go outside now? I want to go play.”

He walked over to the window and moved the drape to the side to see the blonde girl across the street, dressed in the princess outfit and playing hopscotch in the driveway. He knew he couldn’t keep her inside the house the entire time he tried to locate her aunt. It would drive him to the point of insanity.

“Ara, do you remember last night? In the alley?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “With the mean man?”

“Yes, with the mean man.” He kneeled down to get on her eye level. “Do you know what a secret is?”

“Something that I can’t tell anybody?”

“Yes. What you saw last night is a secret. You can’t ever tell anyone about it.”

“And only you and me know?”

“That’s right. It must stay that way.” He thought for a moment about what would ensure the girl would follow his orders. “Because, Ara, if I find out that you told anyone, anyone at all, I’ll have to take you back to your apartment building and leave you with your neighbor.”

Her eyes widened and she clasped her hands together. “With the mean dog!”

“With the mean dog. Do you understand? No one. It is a special secret between us. If you promise not to tell anyone what happened, I will allow you to go outside and play and tomorrow you may watch one hour of cartoons. One hour only.”

Ara grinned and jumped off the chair. “I promise!”

He caught her arm before she could dash to the door. “Ara, I need to believe that promise. Remember if you break it, you’ll go back to your neighbors. Immediately. I will know if you break this promise. I always know,” he told her, repeated a line he remembered his parents telling him when he was a young child.

She bit her lip, tears threatening to form in her eyes. “I promise. I won’t tell anyone. Don’t send me back there, Nicolas! Please don’t—“

He held up a hand to stop her. “As long as you do this, I won’t. There’s nothing to cry about, so calm down.” He stood up and put a hand to her head, turning her in the direction of the front door. “Now go outside and play so I can get some work done.” He followed her to the door and watched her jump off the top stair of the porch before swinging the door shut. He immediately opened it again. “Look before you cross the street, Ara!”

“I will!”

He stood in the doorway and watched her look down the street before running across. At least she was easily trainable. Shaking his head, he shut the door, locked it, and headed to the basement.

[Crystal]

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“So what are you going to do with her?”

Nicolas looked up at Joseph Fasano and then over his shoulder at the table where Ara was sitting. He had picked up a small pack of crayons at the drug store on the corner and had given her plenty of napkins to color on. She seemed content and he had found it kept her busy enough to keep her quiet.

“I don’t know.” He returned his attention forward and sipped his beer.

“How long have you had her?”

“Nearly three weeks. I’ve tried to find a relative, but it’s practically impossible. I even called the apartment building, posing as a friend of the family, wondering what funeral home the parents had been taken. They said they didn’t know and there was no announcement in the paper.”

Joe wiped down the bar counter. “You can’t keep her, Nicolas. You know that. With your job…it’s impossible. She’ll start asking questions.”

“It’s been fine so far though. I had a job last week and I told her she needed to stay at home. She’s good at following directions. She was fine by herself.”

“You left a five-year-old kid at home alone? Why don’t you just drop her off at a hospital or a children’s home? They have that St. Nick’s Home not too far from here.”

“I’m not sending her to one of those places. She hasn’t caused any problems yet. She’s made friends with a kid across the street. I just have to feed her. I had to get some new clothes since she had left them all at the apartment.”

“So you’re going to keep her? Raise her?”

He looked over his shoulder once more. “I guess it’s the only thing I can do right now, at least for the time being. Maybe her aunt will come forward with a missing child report.”

“If she hasn’t done it by now, I doubt she will. Are you going to enroll her in school and everything? They’re going to need to know you’re her guardian.”

“I suppose I’ll have to. I can enroll her and put my name as her guardian. It’s fine. Even if they’re curious and they do a background check on me, they won’t find anything. I can just be a family friend who took her in. It happens.”

Joe shook his head and looked over as the timer beeped. “Her grilled cheese and fries are done.”

Nicolas smirked just slightly and lifted the glass to his lips. “You can call her over yourself. She doesn’t bite.”

The bartender put the food on a plate and set it on the counter. “Anna—“

“Ara.”

He looked at Nicolas for a moment, not amused. “Ara, your food is ready.”

She slid out of the booth and stood on her toes to reach the plate. “I love grilled cheese!” She grinned.

Nicolas put a hand under the plate while she lifted it down, making sure she didn’t drop it. “What do you say, Ara?”

“Thank you, Joe!” She went back and sat down at the booth to eat.

“See? Just feed her and keep her occupied, and she’s fine.”

“I think this is going to come back and bite you in the ass, Nicolas”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Two weeks after Ara’s sixth birthday, two months into her stay with Nicolas, she came down with a cold. At one in the morning, she was still up with a high fever and a cough. Nicolas had yet to be able to find any medicine in the house that would allow her to sleep through the night. He had thirty minutes to find it, administer it to her, and leave the house. He looked at his watch and heard the wracking cough from the living room. Sighing, he shut the medicine cabinet in his bathroom and headed back downstairs.

“Wrap the blanket around you, Ara. I need to go out and you’re going to have to come with me. You have to be very quiet though, do you understand?”

She covered her mouth as she coughed and nodded. “Where are we going?”

“Just out.” He grabbed a pillow from the couch and led her to the garage. He opened the door to the back seat and helped her in.

“Lay down. You have to be very quiet,” he told her and got into the driver’s seat and headed away from the house.

As he approached the bar Joseph Fasano owned, he sighed as he noticed it was closed, no signs of him still being there. Nicolas glanced to the backseat to check on Ara and argued with himself in his head about the decision he was about to make. It had to be done tonight.

He drove for twenty more minutes before he pulled up to a street. He parked a few yards back from the building and waited. He had received the reports necessary for this hit. The target was approximately 40 years of age, living alone in a townhouse. He watched the graveyard shift and left for work around two in the morning each night. His directions were clear. He was to take the man down, not by gunshot since he had a lot of neighbors, transport him to an already named location, kill him and dispose of him there, and then leave quietly. The payment would be given to him in the morning.

He rubbed his chin as he waited for man to exit the building. When the time was approaching, he turned in his seat. “Ara?” he whispered. “Are you still awake?”

“Yes. Can we get out of the car now?”

“Not yet. Get down in the floorboard and remember to be very quiet.”

He waited for her to follow his instructions and then exited the car. As he glanced at the broken street lamps, which had most likely conveniently went out this week, he was thankful for the darkness. It was doubtful that any nosey neighbors looking out the window at this hour would not see a thing. Most lights in the other homes were out, allowing people to peacefully sleep without a car. He approached the man, waiting for him to turn his back to open the car door, and pulled a moistened rag from his pocket to bring around to the guy’s mouth. He held it in place against the man’s struggles and carefully brought him the ground when he felt him go limp. Glancing around to make sure there were no witnesses, he pulled a syringe out of his shirt pocket. He took the cap off with his teeth, rolled the man’s sleeve up and inserted it into his arm. It was a safety measure to make sure he didn’t wake up before it was over. He put everything back into his pocket and grunted as he lifted the man in his arms. He continued looking around for any curious neighbors as he carried the man back to his car to place him in the trunk.

Getting back into the car, he looked to the backseat to see Ara still on the floorboard, covered by the blanket. Nicolas let out a deep breath and drove away from the scene. He drove for thirty minutes, getting deep into a wooded area on the outskirts of the city. He doubted anyone ever came up this ways.

When he had completed his task, killing the man and disposing of the body as requested, he headed back to the car. He paused when he saw Ara sitting up in the backseat, watching him. She quickly turned her head to look at her lap. He knew she had seen the entire thing. He cursed himself for not parking further away, for not reminding her to remain in the floorboard. He put his gun in the back of his waistband and opened the backdoor. She still didn’t look at him. Was she afraid he would get angry?

“Come sit up front.” He shut the door when she got out and walked around with her to open the passenger side door. After making sure she was in and buckled up, he returned to the driver’s side and pulled out of the wooded area, keeping his headlights off until he found the road again.

As he came to a stop at a red light, he looked over to her. She was still looking at her hands. “Ara?” He moistened his lips and looked to the street light before looking back to her. “Do you want to ask me anything?”

She was quiet for a moment, debating whether she should actually ask the question that was on her mind. When she spoke, it was quietly. “Did you kill that man?”

Nicolas turned his attention back to the road. “Yes.”

“Is this another special secret that I can’t tell anyone?”

“Yes. You can’t tell anyone, Ara.”

She nodded and looked out the window. “Why did you kill him?”

Nicolas thought about the best answer he could give six-year-old. He said nothing while he drove for a few miles. “There are two types of people in this world, Ara. Some people are good people—they’re the friends. But there are also bad people in the world. Those people are the foes. It’s important to have as few foes as possible.”

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[Crystal]

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Nicolas stood over the stove, heating some ravioli in a pot. He glanced out of the corner of his eye when he saw Ara walking into the kitchen, her hands folded behind her back. He had learned that this usually meant she wanted something. He didn’t acknowledge her, but waited until she had folded her arms on top of the counter.

“Yes?”

“Do you know what day it is, Nicolas?”

“Yes I do, Ara.”

“Well, do you know what number day it is?”

“It’s the 31st.”

“Right. Do you know what that means?”

He sighed and stirred the ravioli. “What do you want, Ara?”

“Are we going trick-or-treating tonight? That’s what we’re supposed to do! We have to go around a get candy. Please, please, please?

“We’re not going trick-or-treating tonight.”

“Why? We have to! Please, Nicolas? Just for a little while?”

“I can just go to the store and get you some candy.” He retrieved two bowls from the cabinet and spooned the ravioli into each one.

“That’s not the same though.” She sighed and took the bowl when he handed it to her and sat down at the table. “I would be really good.”

He said nothing, just sat at the table and opened the newspaper as he ate. He watched her move the ravioli around in her bowl, her face leaning on one of her hands. How long did trick-or-treating last? She would need to go to school in the morning, so it would not be for very long. He looked at his watch. 7:05. If they were done by 9:00, he would have time to see that she was put to bed before he would need to leave. He moistened his lips and sighed as he turned the page in the newspaper. “We’re not going anywhere unless you finish your dinner.”

Her face brightened at the thought and she sat up straight in her chair to eat. “Can I go as a princess, Nicolas?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. And no, we don’t have time to find a princess costume. You should have thought about that earlier. You have to plan.”

“But I have to dress up! It’s the rules. If I don’t dress up, I won’t get any candy. Can we go to the big houses? I heard they give the best candy.”

“The houses around here give the same candy. It’ll be good enough. Don’t complain or we won’t go at all. Do you understand?”

She let out a small sigh, but nodded to show she understood. When they finished their dinner, Nicolas went upstairs to find a white curtain or bed sheet. He found a discarded bed sheet in the back of a closet and returned to the living room.

“Come here, get up. Put this over your head.”

She did as he instructed. “I can’t see anything, Nicolas!”

He went to a desk to grab a sharpie and some scissors. “Put your fingers where your eyes are.” When she showed him, he made two big circles where they were. He warned her to be still and not to move as he cut around the circles so she would be able to see.

“What am I supposed to be?”

“You’re a ghost. Go upstairs and get your pillowcase and we’ll go.”

“A ghost! Ghosts are scary. I don’t want to be a ghost!”

“Go upstairs and get your pillowcase. Now.”

He shook his head when she returned with her pillowcase and a small pink purse he had gotten for her at the store. He listened as he led her outside that she was now a pretty ghost and pretty ghosts weren’t scary.

The two walked along the sidewalk until they found a house with the lights on. Nicolas stood by the mailbox and lit a cigarette while Ara ran to join the other kids at the front door. He noticed by the way she returned that she wasn’t happy.

“What did you get?”

“All I got was one piece of gum!” She reached down in her pillowcase and pulled it out to show him. “The boy that was a cowboy got three pieces of candy and the man only gave me one.”

“Why did he only give you one?”

“I think it’s because he was scared I was a real ghost. I told him I wasn’t a real—“

“Did you stand up for yourself and ask him why?”

“No, I didn’t want to be mean. But I don’t know why he gave the cowboy more candy. If I was a princess, would he have given me more?”

“Come on.” Nicolas led her back up the walkway to the house and rang the doorbell.

The man answered the door, candy bowl in hand, prepared to give the next trick-or-treaters their share of candy. When he saw Ara, he smiled and shook his head and bent down to her level. “Now I remember you. I already gave you your candy.”

“You gave her one piece while you gave the cowboy three.”

The man looked up to see Nicolas with one hand on the doorframe. “Well, I meant no harm by it,” he explained as he stood up. “I give every child one piece so that I know I have enough at the end. I know the boy’s family from church though, that’s all.”

“Do you think that’s fair to do in front of other children? Favor one over the other because you happen to know the family? You can’t even tell who she is. She could be the f-ing preacher’s kid for all you know.”

The man looked taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“Why don’t you give her another piece?”

“I already told you I gave her a piece. I know the other boy’s family from church. I’ve known them for quite sometime.”

“I really don’t care whether you know them or not.” He patted the man’s arm none too lightly and held it. “It’s her first Halloween. She’s six. Are you going to show her that’s it’s all about who you know in this world or are you going to teach her that everyone is equal? Think carefully before you answer.”

The man hesitated, slightly grimacing against the pressure in his arm. “I was sure that I had given you three pieces. I apologize. It must have been a mistake.”

He held the bowl out and let Ara pick out two more pieces of candy to put in her pillowcase.

“An honest mistake. Anyone could have made it.” Nicolas told him. “It happens. Come on.” He motioned for Ara to follow him.

“Happy Halloween!” Ara grinned and ran to keep up with Nicolas.

He stopped her when they got a few yards away from the house. He bent down and took her arms in his hands. “Ara, I want you to listen very carefully to what I tell you. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “I understand.”

“Sometimes in this world there are people who favor others. No one is equal. But when that happens, when others are given more than you simply because of who they are and who they know, you cannot just let it happen. You must stand up for yourself. Be strong. State your case and never back down. It doesn’t matter what the situation is. If you feel you have been wronged, you have a right to address it and not let it slide. You deserve the same treatment as other children. And when you grow up, remember that you deserve the same treatment as other adults. It doesn’t matter if the person is the next king of France ((haha…had to put that in)). You are their equal and deserve the same rights. Don’t let anyone talk down to you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I can’t let the cowboy get more candy than me?”

Nicolas watched her for a moment. “Something like that. Come on, let’s finish this up.”

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[Crystal]

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“Nicolas, it’s your turn.”

Nicolas glanced away from the newspaper article he was reading towards the checkers game that sat at the kitchen table. He jumped one of Ara’s red pieces and added it to his growing pile before looking back to the newspaper.

“Oh no! You weren’t supposed to go there. I didn’t see that one.” She put her chin in her hand and frowned at the board.

“You have to be ready for anything, Ara. Expect any and all moves from your opponent.”

She leaned her elbows on the table and examined the board for a few minutes before slowly moving one of her pieces. Nicolas watched her from the corner of his eye. She hesitated before removing her finger and crossing her arms, satisfied with the move.

Nicolas reached over and moved one of his pieces to the other end of the board to be crowned. “You didn’t block me, Ara.”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to move there!”

“Where am I supposed to move then?”

“Not there…” she frowned and put a black piece on top of newly kinged checker piece. “Let’s start over, Nicolas, okay? I think we messed up on this game.”

He shook his head as he looked back to the newspaper. “Set the board up then.”

She set the board up for a new game and pulled her feet into the chair. She studied the board for a few minutes before sliding a piece forward. “How did you get to be so good at Checkers, Nicolas?”

“I’ve played it for a long time. It’s not a hard game.”

“But you always win.”

“You have to practice, Ara. The more you play it, you’ll understand the strategy behind it and that you have to defend your territory.”

“I’m going to practice real hard.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Are you still coming to my school tomorrow? To talk to my teacher?”

“Yes, I’m required to go. It’s a parent-teacher conference.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, every student has to have a guardian go in to discuss the progress.” He looked at her after he made his move. “Have you done anything for me to worry about?”

“No! I’ve been really good. Sakura’s in my class this year.”

“You’ve told me.” He jumped another one of her pieces and he could see frustration building in Ara’s face at the thought of losing another game.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Ara is a very active child.”

Nicolas sat at the desk, trying not to be obvious as he looked at his watch. Was this really necessary? Sure, he was listed as her guardian, but parent-teacher conferences? As long as Ara wasn’t getting into fights on a daily basis, was there even a need for conference weeks? Couldn’t the teacher just send a letter home saying everything was well?”

“She seems to enjoy the PE class the best. She enjoys the competition,” the teacher laughed. “Every time we play a game in class, Ara takes it very seriously.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Well…no, I suppose not. But she’s not very good at losing games or understanding that others might be better at it than she is.”

“She has high standards for herself.”

“Yes. She always wants to start over and try to—“

“She merely wants to do her best and win,” he interrupted. “It’s just the way she is. She never settles. I think it’s something helpful that she will take with her in the future. Always strive for the best.”

“of course. I wasn’t trying to put it down in any way.” The teacher looked down at the list she had, hoping to move on to a different topic. “We would like her to put a little more effort into her homework though. Do you find that you have time in the evenings to assist her?”

“I watch her start it, if that’s what you mean. I don’t supervise her.”

“She might need some help on homework that she doesn’t understand.”

“Ara’s never asked for help. I assume she doesn’t want it.”

“We always like to encourage parents to help with homework whenever possible, whether the child asks for it or not. It shows that it’s okay to ask for help when needed. Ara rarely asks for help on her work during class, but I think she might need it.”

Nicolas watched the teacher and briefly wondered if it would have been better to leave Ara at the apartment building she had grown up in. He remembered telling her before that if she didn’t know the answer to something, she needed to try to figure it out for herself, to only ask for help if it was absolutely necessary. He had other things to deal with besides second grade homework.

“I see.”

“Other than the homework though, Ara’s doing great. She gets along with the other students well. Except when she loses at a game,” she added with a small laugh.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ara stood in the doorway and watched as Nicolas put a few things in a black duffle bag. He double-checked his watch to make sure he was on schedule. He was going out tonight on a hit. She had been living with Nicolas for three years now and was used to the routine. Nicolas would get ready, leave when it was time, and she was to wash up and go to bed while he did his job. He would return later that night, sometimes just a few hours later, other times he wouldn’t return until early the next morning and would still be asleep when Ara hurried to catch the school bus.

He looked over at her and back to his bag. “Did you finish your homework?”

“Almost.”

“How much is almost?”

“I started it.”

“If you need help on it, you’ll have to wait until I return.”

Ara frowned a little and leaned against the doorframe. “I don’t need help, Nicolas. I can do it by myself.”

“Then finish it while I’m gone.”

Ara watched him as he made sure he had everything he needed and moved out of the way when he walked out of the bedroom. She followed him to the kitchen. “Nicolas, do you ever need any help?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Are you sure? I could go with you.”

Nicolas paused when he heard her and briefly glanced her way. “No, Ara.”

“I could help you though! If you let me, I could. Please, Nicolas?”

“I said no.”

“But, Nicolas! I could help. You could teach me things. I bet it would be a lot more interesting than the stuff I learn at school. I could learn whatever you wanted me to.”

He shouldered the bag and walked to her. “No, Ara.” He pointed a finger at her to make his point clear. “You’re not going to help me. Do you understand? I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

Ara frowned, but didn’t answer. She watched as he went to the garage. When she heard the garage door close, she moved to the living room window to watch him drive down the street.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[Crystal]

Nicolas set some scrap pieces of paper on the table with some pencils. "Sit right here and keep yourself busy."

He left Ara at the booth and walked over to the bar area. He held a finger up to Joe, indicating to him to bring him a beer, and took a seat.

"How's it going?"

Nicolas nodded. "Not bad. Things have been getting better."

"She's still not causing any trouble?"

Glancing back at Ara, Nicolas took a sip of the beer and shook his head. "No, not yet. Like I said before, she keeps herself busy and she listens to what I say." He was quiet for a moment. "She asked me to let her help out."

"Help out around the house?"

"No."

Joseph looked at him for a moment and leaned against the bar counter. "Wouldn't she rather play with little dolls or something?"

"Not all the time. Why would she even ask though? She knows what it entails."

"You better hope she doesn't open her mouth, Nicolas. She's a risk."

"She's not a risk. She knows not to open her mouth. I wouldn't keep her around if she was."

He nodded. "So what did you say?"

"I told her no and to drop it. Hopefully that's enough."

"I hear they get worse as they get older."

"Is that so? Do you know this from first hand experience?"

Joe ignored the sarcastic comment. He motioned over to the corner at the busboy wiping down a table. "I got a new worker."

Nicolas looked over to the boy. He was about 5’9 and could not have been older than 17 or 18. Possibly younger. When the boy turned his head, Nicolas met his gaze and watched him for a moment before the boy looked back to the table.

"You hate hiring new people. What happened to that other one? Matthew?"

"He won't be around anymore." When he caught Nicolas' understanding glance, he continued. "I caught him going through the drawer at night."

"You trust this one? What's his name?"

"Michel Scarselli. He seems trustworthy. He's a hard worker, hardly says a word. He comes in early and stays late."

"Did you have people look into his background?"

"You know I did. He's from Catania, came over with his younger brother. He's living in an apartment over on 5th. His father's in good with the Vaporelli family. Helped them out with a situation. They had good recommendations for him. You know they don't recommend just anyone."

He knew that fact very well. If they recommended someone and he turned out to be untrustworthy, it looked bad. "I'm glad you found someone."

"He told me the other day he wanted to work in the kitchen. He doesn't mind working long hours. He's a good worker. You'd like him. There's something about him."

"I don't think I need a busboy."

"Michel!" Joe waved his arm to motion for the boy to join them.

Michel dried his hands on a towel that hung outside of his pants pocket as he made his way over. "Yes, sir?"

"This is Nicolas Capritti. He's a regular here and a good friend of mind."

Michel understood him to mean that he was to respect Nicolas as he would his own boss and to see that he was kept happy while visiting. He nodded and took Nicolas' hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Joseph sat with Nicolas at a booth in the back of the bar watching Michel clean off tables. He took a sip of his beer and turned back to Nicolas who was busy reading a copy of The Arcadia Times newspaper.

“I think he could be useful.”

Nicolas lifted his head as he turned the page. “Who?”

“Michel. I think he could help us out.”

“Doing what?”

He shrugged and looked back towards Michel. “I think he would be able to do anything we ask.”

“We have to be able to trust him.” He looked to his watch. “Don’t make me stay past 4:30. I have to pick Ara up from her karate class.”

“I can’t believe she talked you into that.” Joe sipped his beer and the two were quiet for a time before he returned to the conversation at hand. “He’s a hard worker.”

Nicolas looked over his shoulder. “He’s a hard worker who could go straight to the cops.”

“His father was loyal to the Vaporelli family in Catania and still is. He didn’t have to be. That says something about his family’s characters.”

“It says something about his father’s characters, not him.”

“I overpaid him last week, to see what he would do. I do it to everyone. You know, he’s the only one who came to me before I had to ask?”

“He didn’t want to give a bad impression so soon.”

Joe smirked and shook his head. “You’re making excuses, Nicolas. I know you well enough.”

Nicolas smiled just slightly and folded the paper in half to set it aside. He had known Joe long enough to trust his judgments. “Let’s test him then.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. We can have him a make a simple delivery.”

“Have it delivered to one of the guys I know. Give him precise directions and a time. We’ll see what he does with it.”

“It needs to come from you. I’m his boss and I pay him, so he feels obligated to do what I tell him.”

“Fine, I’ll ask him.”

Joe stood and patted his shoulder. “I don’t think you’ll be disappointed Nicolas.” He returned to the bar area to serve some customers who had walked in.

Nicolas was left at the table. Joe trusted him and Nicolas knew that he was as untrusting as Joe was when it came to new people. He sat back and watched Michel head his way to get back to the kitchen.

“Sit down, Michel.”

The boy stopped before he passed Nicolas’ table and glanced towards him for a moment.

“Sit down.”

Michel didn’t want him to have to repeat himself a third time, so he took a seat across from Nicolas.

“Are you liking it here?”

“I am, yes. It’s good work.”

“Like it more than Catania?”

Michel hesitated, trying to decide which direction to answer in. “Catania will always be my home, but I’m liking it here.”

Nicolas nodded and rubbed his chin. He took a quick glance over his shoulder to Joe at the bar and sighed. Looking back at Michel, he set his hand back on the table. “Listen, you think you could do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I need you to drop something off for me. You think you can do that for me? It’s important and I have other things I need to get done.”

Michel took a deep breath and ran a hand along the back of his neck. How many times had he seen people ‘dropping things off’ for people in Catania? How many times had it happened in his father’s own restaurant? He watched Nicolas for a moment, thinking of his brother, the college education that would be needed soon, for both of them, and the idea of asking his parents for money. “I can do it.”

Nicolas watched him before nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

He returned and slid into the booth, sliding a manila envelope and a sheet of paper across the table. “It needs to be delivered to this address at exactly two o’clock tomorrow. Any questions?”

“No.” He took the envelope and the directions. “Two o’clock.”


It wasn’t until 2:10 two days later that Nicolas received a phone call from Louis Cavellero.

“I just got it.”

“Just now? Is he still there?”

“No, he gave it to me and just left.”

“Was everything there?”

“All of it was there. There was no tampering with the envelope. I checked.”

“You watched him yesterday?”

“I had one of the security cameras on him while I was out, just like you said. He waited 30 minutes and then left. Came back today at precisely two o’clock.”

“Good. What did you think about him?”

“He seemed like a good kid. I liked him.”

“All right. Thanks. I’ll talk to you later, Cav.”

Nicolas hung up and made a quick U-Turn to go back to the bar. He waited in the back of the parking lot for Michel to arrive. He gave him a few minutes to get inside before getting out of the car and heading inside. He needed towards Joe and continued back to the kitchen where he found Michel washing dishes from that morning.

“Michel.”

He turned his head and shut off the water before drying his hands. “Nicolas.”

Leaning against the counter, he folded his arms across his chest. “How’d it go yesterday?”

“I went at two o’clock, like you said, but he wasn’t there, so I went back today.”

Nicolas nodded and looked around the kitchen for a moment. “I told you to deliver it yesterday.”

“But he –“

“The directions were pretty clear, I thought.”

“They were but I –“

“So why not deliver it when I asked? It could have been time sensitive.”

Michel sighed. “I figured it was something important. I didn’t want to leave it at the door or in the mailbox.”

Nicolas nodded. “So then you brought it home?”

“Yes. It was safe. You weren’t here yesterday, so I thought it would be okay.”

He watched Michel as a small sigh of worry passed through his eyes. He pushed off the counter and patted Michel’s shoulder. “You did a good job. Thank you, Michel.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

Joe passed a plate of food to a customer and looked at Nicolas. He walked over and lowered his voice. “So?”

“He did good.”

“He passed?”

Nicolas nodded. “He delivered it, asked no questions, didn’t look in the envelope.”

“He’s a good worker, I told you.”

He glanced at him, but didn’t answer. “I have to go pick up Ara.”

“I still can’t believe you put her in a karate class. You’re giving into her.”

“I’m not giving into her. She’ll grow out of this phase. She used to want to be a princess too. Kids grow out of it.”

“You’re entering her into karate class so she can grow out of the phase? That doesn’t make any sense, Nicolas.”

“Yes it does. She’ll get bored with it and grow out of it.”

“This is going to backfire on you.”

“Trust me, Joe. I know her. It won’t backfire.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -