I was sitting in the student center around noon, drinking coffee and waiting for my girlfriend, Andrea. I had a lot on my mind, mostly trying to figure out how I was going to pay my tuition for the next semester. My father left us in 1961, when I was 14, for some putana he worked with, leaving my mother and I to fend for ourselves. We used to live in a decent one-family house in Belleville, but after he left, my mother had to rent a small two-bedroom apartment in Newark, over the liquor store where she worked.

 A guy I’d seen hanging around the student center a few times, walked up to me. Sandy haired with light brown eyes, I’d heard his name was Tommy. He was a bit of a hustler according to another student. He was big, not so much tall as wide, powerfully built. “You’re Joey, right?” He asked.

 “Yeah, how’d you know?” I was curious.

 “I hear things.”

 I nodded. “You go to school here?”

 “I got a student ID. That good enough?”

 I shrugged. “What can I do for you, Tommy?”

 “You know my name. Good. It’s what I can do for you, Joey. I hear through the grapevine that you need tuition money.” I had mentioned this one day to a couple of guys I played pinochle with occasionally. In those days the university’s tuition was only $500 a semester. Still, not a small sum at the time, especially for a guy in my situation. I had two part time jobs. Except for gas or movie money, I gave my pay to my mother. “You’re short about four hundred, give or take fifty. Right?”

 “Who told you that?” I asked.

 “Does it matter who told me that? I’m here to solve your problems,” he said. He was standing close. His bricklayer hands, resting on the table, worried me a little, but I knew better than to show it. 

 “You get a hot tip on a horse?”

 “You’re a funny guy. I like that,” he said. He took a seat opposite me. I have to confess I was intimidated by his size. No, it wasn’t just his size. His demeanor, while not quite menacing, was that of a guy who knew exactly who he was and had the confidence to get whatever he wanted without asking twice. I was only 5’8” and thin. Big guys tended to impress me.

 He took a look around to make sure nobody was within earshot. “Listen, I need somebody to go to Bamberger’s and check prices on a few items. You can’t write ‘em down. You gotta remember them. Think you can do that?”

 “Yeah, nothing to it,” I said.

 Tommy smiled. “I need it today. I’ll give you five hundred. That’s more than you need for school.”  

I was only 20 at the time and pretty naïve. I tended to take people and things at face value. But, even for me his proposal seemed kind of stupid. “I don’t get it,” I said. “Why can’t you do it yourself and save the five hundred?” Andrea arrived. She gave me a quick kiss and sat next to me. “Who’s your friend?” she asked.

 “I’m Tommy. Do me a favor and go get yourself a Coke while Joey and I talk business here.”

 Andrea looked at me, her brown eyes wide. I pulled out a dollar bill, half of what I had to my name, and handed it to her. “Get me one too, honey.” She snatched the bill and stalked off, her pony tail wagging its disapproval. I wasn’t sure she’d be back.

 “Good,” Tommy said, nodding approvingly. “You asked me why I don’t do it myself. That’s not important right now. You in or you out?”

 I needed the money. I knew my mother didn’t have tuition money and although I had applied for a state scholarship, my grades weren’t good enough to get one. “Yeah, I’m in. What do you need prices on?”

 He slid a piece of paper over to me with the names of the items. “Read it and hand it back to me when you know you got it in your head.” He took a quick look around again.

 I picked it up and saw, Tiffany one carat diamond with 14 carat gold band, Eames lounge chair and ottoman, model 18429 and Zenith X966D console stereo. I don’t have a photographic memory, but this was easy. I slid the note back to Tommy. “You sure you got it right?” he asked. I nodded. “Okay, tell me what you’re looking for. Not too loud.” I repeated the three items exactly and waited. “Meet me here with the numbers at 5:30,” he said. “Remember, don’t write nothing down.” He saw Andrea walking toward us with the Cokes. “Don’t tell your girlfriend anything either, okay?”

 I shrugged again. “All right.”   He stood then and said to Andrea, “Thanks for being a doll, hon.”

 She put the soda cups down and sat next to me. “What did that creep want?”

 “He gave me a job.” In spite of Tommy’s admonition, I gave Andrea the details. We’d been a couple since our junior year in high school. I trusted her completely.

 “Are you an idiot?” she asked. “He’s connected. He’s in the mafia.”

 “What are you talking about? He doesn’t even look Italian,” I said.

 Like me, Andrea was Italian-American. She was offended that I would assume that only Italians would be involved with organized crime. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said mafia, but he’s definitely in some kind of gang, or organized crime ring, Joey. You need to find him and tell him you’re sorry, but you’re not doing this.”

 “You’re crazy. Checking department store prices isn’t illegal.”

 “Maybe not, but that might depend on what he’s using the information for. If he’s using it as part of some criminal act, it might be. Anyway, think for just one second, Joey. Who pays $500 for a job that takes all of two minutes?” She pulled a cigarette from her pack and lit it.

 I looked around the student center. Ten minutes ago, the tables were full of students chatting and eating lunch. The tables were almost empty now, but Tommy was nowhere in sight. “I don’t see him. Anyway, I have to get to class. See you tonight?”

 “If you don’t get arrested.”

 Our campus was in the center of downtown, Newark, walking distance from what was left of the shopping district. A centralized college campus with four buildings was under construction, but in the meantime, classes were held in various buildings, most of them shared with other businesses. My economics class was only a short walk from Bamberger’s. I decided Andrea was right and headed to class. But Professor Griggs didn’t show up. We waited a full fifteen minutes before we decided to leave.

That left me with time on my hands. I decided to go to Bamberger’s after all and check the prices, just for the fun of it. It felt like being in a movie. I imagined the camera on me, following me into the store and through the different departments that held the items I was searching for. I went out of my way to act casual, but I was careful not to interact with any of the store’s employees. The sales clerk at the jewelry counter asked if she could help me find something. I shook my head no. I knew instinctively, that any interaction with employees, a word or action on my part might help them remember me and wasn’t smart.

It didn’t take long. Andrea was wrong though. I timed myself. It took me twenty-four minutes from the time I entered the store until I walked out. I had another class to go to, so I walked briskly across Broad Street and down Rector Street to the building where my geology class was held. This was a three-hour class, including an hour of lab. If I left a few minutes early, I would have plenty of time to make it back to the student center if I chose to meet Tommy and collect my money.

 As soon as I got to class, I wrote down the three numbers in my Geology notebook, putting each one on a separate page where I had already taken class notes. I thought I was being pretty clever. For the Eames chair and ottoman, for example, I just wrote an “E” next to the number.       

 I left class about ten minutes early, still not sure what I was going to do. I stepped out onto the sidewalk and there was Andrea, waiting for me. “Where are you off to so early?” she asked.

She looked angelic, her makeup fresh and her dark eyes loving. “I have a couple of errands to run. Did you cut your French class to meet me?” It was getting cold. Thanksgiving was only a week away. Rector Street is always windy, and this time of year it was often nasty.

“I just wanted to be with you. I can help with your errands now.” She stuck her hand in my coat pocket as we walked. I loved that.  

 She was smiling and chatting about the holidays, asking me what I wanted for Christmas. I was only half listening. I was distracted, eager to play out my little drama all the way, but I would have to get away from Andrea for a while to do that. I said, “I have to go to the student center and tell Tommy the deal is off.”

“Why?”

“Look, if he’s what you think he is, he’ll be looking for me. I need to get this taken care of now, the sooner the better.”

“Let’s go,” she said.

We walked quickly down the street toward the student center, a good fifteen-minute walk. Neither of us said much. One block from the student center, we ran into my economics professor. A very short man, sporting a long red beard, he was hard to miss. “Mr. DeSantis, I missed you in class this afternoon,” he said.

“Maybe I’m confused, Dr. Griggs. You weren’t there. We all left.”

“Not everyone, but you’re forgiven this time,” he said. “It was weird, actually. I was delayed when a young man I’ve never met, accosted me, right outside the business and economics building. It was a wee bit frightening,” he said. “After almost fifteen minutes of insisting he was a student in our economics class and needed to talk to me about his grade, he suddenly apologized. He said, and I’m quoting him, ‘I guess I had the wrong fucking professor.’” He glanced at Andrea and smiled, an apology.

I checked my watch. If we chatted any longer I would be late. I hate being late for an appointment. I said goodbye to the professor. I was also worried about bringing Andrea with me. Tommy had made it clear when he said, “Don’t tell her about this,” he said. The look on his face held more power than his words.

“Listen, wait for me in the library,” I said. “This guy’s a little scary. I’ll only be a minute.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not afraid of him. Are you?”

“No, of course not. Why take a chance though?”

We were in front of the library which was across the street from the student center. “Just tell him and then we can go to my house. My mother said you could eat dinner with us,” Andrea said. “She’s making manicotti.”

I walked across the street to the student center and found Tommy waiting for me. He was smiling. Before I even said a word, he pulled a money clip out of his pants pocket and peeled off five, hundred dollar bills. “Here you go,” he said.

“You don’t even know if I went to Bamberger’s,” I said.

“You went. Take this and give me the numbers.” I rattled off the numbers and took the cash. I could enroll for another semester, buy books and take Andrea across the river for dinner.

“Good work. You did it just like I told you. An associate of mine watched you.”

 “No kidding? Why?”

 “It was your first time. I just wanted to be sure you were cool.”

 I laughed. “Nobody thinks I’m cool. What do you need this stuff for?”

 He gave me a serious look. “You really think you wanna know that?”

“Guess not,” I said. “Well thanks.” I turned around to leave but he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around like I was a Lazy Susan.

 “I got another job for you. The money’s good, man”

 “What if I don’t want it?”

 “Wait until you hear what it is first.” He pointed to a table and we sat down. I could feel something welling up inside me, panic maybe. What was I going to tell Andrea? That I was late because I had to go to the bathroom? That might work if I got away from this guy Tommy soon. I was afraid she would get tired of waiting and come looking for me.

“My girlfriend’s waiting for me,” I said.

 “This won’t take long. You got a car?”

 “Yeah, a ‘57 Dodge.”

 He rolled his eyes at that, but he said, “Good. There’s a guy in Port Newark, a friend of mine who’s selling me some imported perfumes. I need somebody to pick them up, maybe three or four cases. Just put them your trunk and meet me.”

 “Where?” I couldn’t believe I was asking him where instead of just saying, sorry, no, maybe some other time. But Tommy had a presence about him. He was kind of mesmerizing. His eyes and his sneaky smile were impossible to ignore.

“Meet me here tomorrow morning at nine. I’ll give you the details then. You’re gonna make another five hundred, just like that.”

 “I can’t. I’ll be in class at nine.”

 “So, cut class. You cut economics today.”

 “Was somebody following me?” I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

 “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any problems. Like I said, you did a good job.”

“I don’t know, Tommy. It sounds kind of fishy to me; Port Newark, perfume, paying me that much money just to pick something up for you. I don’t want to get into any trouble.”  

 “Think about it. Let me know your answer tomorrow morning. A thousand bucks in two days don’t fall into your lap every day, right?”

 On the way over to Andrea’s house she quizzed me about my conversation with Tommy. “What did he say when you told him you couldn’t do it?”

 “Nothing, really. Well, he said something about me being an asshole.” I knew that would sound convincing, but I didn’t like myself for lying to her.

 “He’s the asshole. I’m glad you didn’t fall for his line, Joey.” She kissed me.

 Over dinner, Andrea asked me to tell her father about my encounter with Tommy. As I told Mr. Giannico the story, it felt as though the money in my pocket was getting warmer with every lie I told him. He listened intently. When I finished he said, “I’ve known guys like that. Best to steer clear of them. They’re trouble, Joey.”

 I agreed wholeheartedly. The next day, though, I picked up the perfume and pocketed another five hundred bucks. I paid the rent on my mother’s apartment and bought a month’s worth of groceries too. I would have done more, but there was no way I could explain where the money came from. As it was, I told her I won a few bucks playing cards in the student center. The way she looked at me, I knew she didn’t believe me, but I saw the relief in her heavily lined face too.

Over the next three months, I did one or two jobs for Tommy a week. He didn’t always pay me as much as he did for the first two jobs, but I had more money than I knew what to do with. He always swore me to secrecy, but by then I knew I was better off keeping what I was doing quiet. I made a few more pickups and deliveries, checked prices at a couple of appliance stores and a couple of times, I watched his car while he did some business in a pizzeria.

Nothing I had done seemed illegal. And if it was, I had no direct knowledge of it. I didn’t ask questions. I just did what I was told and collected the cash. Naturally, it never occurred to me that had I been stopped carrying a few cases of, say liquor, I had no receipt for my cargo. Any cop with half a brain would be suspicious of a 20-year-old kid riding around with so much booze.

 That didn’t happen. Eventually, I came to terms with the idea that I was spending time with a guy who wasn’t strictly on the up and up. But my work was strictly between Tommy and me. He didn’t introduce me to any of his friends or associates if he had any. It bothered me some, but to be honest, not as much as I thought it would. Financially, I was a hell of a lot better off. Besides, I could quit whatever this was at any time. And, for the first time in my life I had some real spending money.

 Tommy talked to me about that one day as he was handing me two hundred-dollar bills. “Now, don’t be a jerk with this money you’re making. Be careful how and where you spend it. Otherwise you might attract attention.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. I was genuinely curious.

“Are you paying taxes on what I pay you?”

“No.”

“Capisce?”  

 I did buy my mother a nice five-piece, leatherette, dining set for Christmas and I got myself a portable stereo. Now I could listen to Beatles and Rolling Stones albums whenever I wanted. Naturally, she wanted to know where I got the money. This time I just told her one of the guys I met at the college was able to get huge discounts because his father owned a bunch of businesses. When I got Andrea a pre-engagement ring with a half-carat opal, she was thrilled. We went all the way for the first time. I promised her we’d be officially engaged by her birthday in August. I really loved her.

 The funny thing was that Tommy insisted that I keep going to school. He convinced me to pick a major with law school in mind and talked about how I’d make a good lawyer someday. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. Since I hadn’t declared a major, I went along, majoring in political science. I even studied more than I had in the past. But I had my doubts about law school. I didn’t think I was smart enough to be a lawyer, I guess. 

 In February of that year, he invited me to a social club he belonged to in Bloomfield, one of Newark’s many suburbs. He told me to come alone. Whatever innocence I was clinging to about Tommy disappeared that night. I stopped kidding myself about what I was doing and who I was associating with. The first thing I noticed was that most of the guys had that look about them, ready for a confrontation, maybe hoping for one. There were a few women there too. Naïve as I was, I had no trouble grasping their purpose. To me they all looked like the woman my father left us for.

Some of the men, mostly guys in their twenties and thirties, were taller than Tommy and not as obviously powerful in a physical sense. Some of them, though, looked like they lifted weights. Others had big stomachs but wore it well. I was struck too by the way they dressed. The heavyset guys seemed to prefer the Italian knit shirts that were popular then. The others, mostly the younger guys, wore black pants with sharp creases and roll collar silk shirts, the kind that guys who dressed in a collegiate style laughed at. Since I fell into the latter category, I stood out like the best man in a tuxedoed wedding party, dressed like I was attending a beach party.

But the guys were nice to me. Their language was salty, their vocabularies limited, but having spent enough time talking to Tommy, I realized that at least some of what I was hearing was affect, a deliberate attempt to play down their intelligence, so as not to appear too smart.   

Tommy introduced me to some of the guys, moving rapidly through the group. My madras jacket raised eyebrows. Finally, we reached a corner table where Vinny Florio, a very large man with wavy black hair, was seated, alone. “Mr. Florio, this is Joey, the kid I was telling you about,” Tommy said. Mr. Florio, a man who looked to be in his mid-fifties, was obviously in charge.

“Is that right? Hey, nice to meet you Joey.” He reached up and shook my hand, a real bone crushing handshake. “I been hearing good things about you.” He turned his head toward the bar. “Dennis, get over here.” Dennis, another big guy, athletic looking, walked over to us. “This is my son, Dennis. Say hello to Joey.”

“He’s kind of a shrimp,” Dennis said after he shook my hand.

With some difficulty, Mr. Florio stood. He cuffed his son on the back of his head. “Mind your manners. Spend some time with Joey here, capisce?”

“Got it.” He looked at my jacket and then back at Tommy. “You sure, Tommy?”

 “He’s good. Like I told you.”

 Dennis looked at me again. “What did you say your last name is?”

“I didn’t say, but it’s DeSantis.”

“Right, come on over to the bar, Joey, I’ll buy you a drink.” I wanted to run out of the place then. This was no longer a game, a social experiment, an easy way to make a few quick bucks and ease the near poverty of a college student’s life. These guys were mobsters, an organized crime family that I somehow got sucked into. What had Andrea said? “Who pays somebody so much money for a simple job any fool could do unless they want something else?” But what? I was about to find out.  

Dennis Florio was even more charismatic than Tommy. He told me his father owned a waste management company and also was a partner in two construction companies. “A lot of people hear things like that and think, uh-oh, Mafia, but that’s old time,” Dennis said. “We run legitimate enterprises, but because we’re Italian and because in their youth, men like my father cut a few corners here and there, people jump to conclusions.”

A very pretty woman behind the bar came over and poured rye into shot glasses for us. She walked down to the other end of the bar. I was sorry to see her go. I looked at Dennis and decided to give it to him straight. “I’m one of those people, I guess. No offense, but I don’t want to get involved with anything illegal.”

“I understand.” He put his arm around my shoulder and said, “Tell me something Joey. You’ve been making what, three, four, or five C-notes a week working for Tommy, for about three, four months now?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you been asked to do anything that you could say was illegal?”

“No.”

“Hassled by the cops?”

“Nope.”

 “But the money, it comes in handy?” Dennis asked.

I laughed. “I’d have to say yes to that.”

“I thought so.” Dennis reached over the bar and picked up a bottle. He poured us both another shot of rye. “Look, I can use a guy like you and my father liked you right off. I could tell, because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have asked me to talk to you. Drink your whiskey.” I drank it down, just like I did at parties on campus, one gulp. “We want you to go to school, get a degree and if you want, go to law school.”

“Dennis, can I ask you a question?” He smiled and lit a cigarette. He offered me one. I told him I quit. “Why me?” I asked. “What makes me so special?”

“Special? Who said anything about being special?” He laughed and took a long drag. “Look, every successful business enterprise has to recruit good people. Most guys never get this far,” he said, turning his head to look from one end of the room to the other. “It’s not like other companies that can put an ad in the paper to hire people. We’re very decentralized, mostly for tax purposes. But my father is a man who likes to handpick his people.  And loyalty is very important to him. People who do a good job, he pays them what they’re worth.  But you already know that. Guys who don’t ask too many questions and know how to keep their mouths shut can make a lot of money.”

I fiddled with my shot glass, hoping to send a signal. Dennis was very sharp. He missed nothing. He took the bottle out of the well behind the bar again and placed it next to my glass. “Help yourself.”

I poured another shot, my third one, unusual for me. “I’m not trying to be a wiseass, here, but do people who work for your father get employee benefits?”

“You mean like health insurance and a pension?”  

“Right.”

“Tommy said you were smart, that you catch on real quick like. I’m not seeing that right now though, Joey.” 

I drank my last shot, and gently placed the glass on the bar. “Dennis, this is an organized crime syndicate your father is running. You dance around the obvious and either assume I can’t see that, or you believe I see it just fine. You’re trying to figure out how I feel about it.”

He fixed me with a hard stare, one that made Tommy’s look like a nun teaching catechism. “And you know that how?”

“I don’t know it. Not really, I guess. Look, I don’t know what I want to do with my life. To be honest, I’m only in college to stay out of the draft. But going to prison isn’t attractive either.” I hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I like the money, and I gotta admit, I like the guys I’ve met. I guess I need to think about it.”

“Fair enough. While you’re thinking about it, give this some thought. We run a high stakes gambling operation about two blocks from here. I need somebody to tend bar and make food runs for the players three nights a week and clean up when they leave. Yeah, it’s not quite legal, but the Bloomfield fire chief and Belleville’s police chief are regulars. So, it ain’t that illegal if you know what I mean. You’ll be paid a C-note and one percent of the take every night. You’ll walk out of there with at least four bills a night.”

“Really?”

“In two weeks’ time you’ll be able to get rid of that shitty Dodge you’re driving,” Dennis said.

“I’ll think about it Dennis. Thanks.” I stuck my hand out and shook his. Like his father’s, his firm grip was telling.

Dennis polished off his shot and said, “Here’s how we’re gonna do this. It's Tuesday night, right? I'll give you two days to think about it. Six o’clock Thursday night, I’m gonna drive by the student center. If you’re interested, you’ll be standing on the front steps. If you’re not there, I’ll drive by and we’ll forget it. Capisce?”

I nodded.

“And lose that fucking jacket.”

Andrea and I talked about it all day Wednesday. We spent time in her parents’ basement and walking up and down Washington Street between classes. For the first time, I told her the truth about the work I’d been doing for Tommy. I explained how much the money helped and assured her over and over again that I wasn’t breaking any laws. Of course, I told her about the new job Dennis had offered me, tending bar at a private club a few nights a week.

“Where is this club,” She asked.

“I’m not sure yet.” I really didn’t know. 

I have to say she listened carefully to everything I said. She made a lot of sense when she said, tears in her eyes, “Joey, you’re traveling down a self-destructive path, one I have no interest in traveling.” She begged me to stop, offered to move to another state and start fresh.  

I was torn between living the completely straight life and taking my chances with my new friends. I even thought about joining the Army, but fighting a senseless war in the Far East, didn’t appeal to me. After my experiences over the last several months, the intrigue, and the many mysteries to be solved, the prospect of condemning myself to years in some office cubicle, seemed dull. Still, her stern warnings about spending my life behind bars, or maybe ending up in the East River in my prime, worried me.   

Finally, Andrea gave me an ultimatum. “If you want me in your life, you have to play it straight, completely. There is no middle ground here. It’s that simple.” She wanted me to spend the night with her in her friend’s apartment, but I told her I couldn’t.

“I have an exam tomorrow. I have to study.” She made me promise to take her to breakfast the next morning at eight. 

After a sleepless night, I met Andrea at Top’s Diner on Halsey Street not far from the student center. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Even with makeup on, it was obvious she had been crying. “Well, what are you going to do, Joey? Them or me?” She had a tissue in her hand, ready.

“I don’t know, Andrea.” I put my hands in my pockets. “You know I love you and I want us to be together. I think maybe you’re just using my job as an excuse to break up with me.”

She gave me a stare actually, not unlike Dennis’s practiced stare. “How can you say that to me? I love you. I’ve given you everything I have to give.” Tears started flowing and she put her tissue to work. “I think I’m entitled to an answer, yes or no, Joey.” 

“What am I supposed to do Andrea? My mother needs the money.” My answer sounded hollow, even to me.

She took the opal ring off and handed it to me. “If you change your mind, maybe you can give it back to me someday. I love you, Joey, but I won’t live like this, worrying that you might wind up dead or in prison.” She got up, brushed past me and ran out of the diner. I didn’t chase her. I needed time to think.           

I spent the day walking around campus, cutting all my classes. At lunch I stopped at Carmine’s, our favorite pizza shop, and ordered a slice. I managed to take a couple of bites, but I tossed the rest into the trash. I wasn’t hungry. Later, I went to the public library and sat at a table in the corner. I had a decision to make.  

I wasn’t on the student center steps when Dennis drove by in his new Cadillac. When I saw him slow down to look for me, I stepped out of my beat up ’57 Dodge and waved. He stopped, he smiled and I got in. Andrea’s opal ring was in my pocket.         

Copyright  2018 Len Serafino