Right, I know this might sound a bit weird at first but do let me explain.

When I was 6 my father left my mother, my two brothers and me for “business”. This happened more often, sometimes he was gone for months without hearing a word from him. Unfortunately this business trip was different… he never returned home again. In our village, Randazzo, many rumors followed. Some were really nasty saying my mother didn’t provide in my father’s needs, others were horrifying saying my father got killed by the Sicilian mafia. At that time, I had no clue what these rumors ment. I never understood why my mother didn’t file a missings persons report at the police. After all, they were ment to help in situations like this.

Time passed and I grew older, my brothers were running a butchery in our town and my mother had moved onto another man, nobody seemed to care anymore about my father’s disappearance. Questions that I asked about him were ignored and left unanswered and that was it. I had a hard childhood, always felt something, or better someone, was missing from it. My father. The guy who was always there for a laugh, when he was around my mother always cooked the best meals, the atmosphere in the house was great and on Sunday we would go on boat trips to the little island that lay North of Sicily in the Mediterranean Sea. Not a day went by that I missed my father, even after so many years of his absence.

Then everything changed, not being missy goldilocks I ended up getting arrested during a store heist in Siracusa, our boat had failed to make a quick exit and well we ended up in jail. When I had to state my personal information the officers looked at me funny, “Are you the daughter of Adriano  “the whipped” Waffle?” What? The whipped? Adriano Waffle?! Errr. Yes sir I am. “Do you know where he is?” No, he left me when I was 6. Why are you asking me about my father? At that point the officer  went to the “wanted bulletin board” an grabbed a poster which had my father’s picture on it, except he looked much older. I was shocked, he was alive and around and never had visited us again. Did my mother knew about this? How could I find him if the police even failed to do so. The reasons why the police were looking for him were scary, murder and extortion, was this the reason we always lived such a luxury live?

Whilst sitting in the police cell thinking about all the information I just received I decided there was only one way to find my father. I’d to join the mafia and work my way up to gain access to him. A plan was made. It all started off very slowly, first I had to meet the right people, well the wrong people, depending how you look at it and earn there trust enough for them to take me in as an associate. The record I build up by my petty crimes in the past seemed to be very handy for this. I started off as every other streetthug, running errands for this big guys, kicking up as much money as I could and basically do as I was told. At a point I’d done so much crime in Sicily and so much up in the North that I started to loose hope. My father wasn’t here… Nobody even mentioned his name, not once.

It was at that point I heard many Sicilian mobsters had left our old country to find fortune and success in the States, through an old contact I could get a place on a boat leaving for New York in a few weeks. I decided it was my only chance to re-unite with my father. After arriving in the New York docks, I quickly made my way to Philadelphia were some of my old contacts lived. My American Cosa Nostra adventure had begun.

Now I’m a Wise Guy in a well respected Philadelphia family, I feel I’m progressing slowly to getting my Made button thus a new world opening for information regarding my father. I truly hope I can meet him again someday and he’ll be proud of me that I stepped into his footsteps. My father, the mafia boss.

If you know who my father is or can give me any information on its whereabouts I’d be extremely great full. Or just let him know, Syrup “the Romantic” Waffle is looking for him. Thanks.

My apologies for the poor way the story is displayed, looks like I really am a street virgin.

I am whipped!

...

Wait, that's not what I meant!

Honest!

An interesting tale, Mr. Waffle, and well told.  I wish you the best of luck in your search, and hope, for your sake, that your father is alive somewhere out there. 

I can almost picture him, hearing through the grapevine of your own achievements and awaiting the day when your paths will cross once again.

Very well written story Syrup I enjoyed reading it very much.

Your dad's most probably dead though..

Dead? That can't be! I refuse to even think amongst those lines, I have faith we shall be re-united at some point.
When he hear Syrup "The Romantic" Waffle has gotten into the Cosa Nostra I'm sure he will contact me. He has to.

I really enjoyed reading your story, it was well written and kept my attention all the way thru.

I sincerley hope you find your father and have every faith that he is allive and knows how hard you have tried to find him, Im sure you will meet again soon.

Dead? That can't be! I refuse to even think amongst those lines, I have faith we shall be re-united at some point.
When he hear Syrup "The Romantic" Waffle has gotten into the Cosa Nostra I'm sure he will contact me. He has to.

Nahh, he's definitely dead.

Lights up a cigar.

Well, I will have to agree with Ed on this it is very likely that your father is sadly dead... The reason being most people do not survive in these cold streets, only some make it through. The ones that do make it are known, and i have not heard of your father.

You have to keep hoping, You can't just give up because other people beleive he is dead. I wish you well on your search.

But, Lorrie is it worth wasting loads of valuable time searching for someone you don't even know is alive? Life is to short to waste it...

Ed rummages in one of the alleys, coincidentally not too far from where the search was being carried out. He kicks some of the bin bags and such until his foot connects with something hard..

"Found him!..."

"Yeah, he's as dead as a dodo."

Thats not my father! That merely one those no name MIA bums!
My father is much more handsome, taller and would never be caught in those sneakers.

Unfortunately I do not have a picture to show but if you get into jail sometime have a look on the wanted wall.

Well either way, the best of luck in your such. I hope you do find him, however unlikely it is that you will.

When it comes down to family, there's no such thing as wasting time, ever.
That goes for my city and that goes for my father, any time spent on them is good thing.

They've invested time in me, money even. It's the least I can do.

Ed, for opportunities to arise one always should stay optimistic and realistic.
Given my father disappeared somewhat 15 years ago and I recently saw his wanted poster at the police office, I like to think my hopes are realistic.
Only time will tell though, if you can keep your ears open for Mr. Whipped Waffle I'd greatly appreciate this.

I'm a very pessimistic gent, I admit this. And I'll be sure to point "Mr. Whipped Waffle" in your direction should I come across him.

Don't hold your breath eh..