A slightly disorientated, scruffy young man is scuffling in the streets within a garbage can, pulling out an apple, he cringes and tosses it back. A far cry from what his father described as a perfect life. That bastard bragged about how he was going to bring us out here, he only returned to Sicily with tales once or twice, but it was enough to make us long for this 'life'
My mother missed him so that she started calling by my middle name, Fisk, instead of the one my father gave to me. It was after several months that he didn't return to collect us and take us out to the States that we decided he had forgotten about us and moved on. I got separated from my mother on the boat, and so registered under my fathers name with the immigration services.
So here I am, alone, hungry and if I last two day's it'll be a shock. Does anyone need of a youth like myself? |
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Didn't your bloodline quit mister?
I mean no disrespect by asking, but I don't want to go along to my Boss and tell her that there's someone who we can bring in, only for the new recruit to go quittin' on the family. |
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But he wasn't even with his father. I think that every man deserves a chance, whether his bloodline been good or bad in the eyes of the world. |
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Hmmm.
Maybe my father wanted the world to believe he was gone, and so could carry on working for the mafia under a different, hidden identity?
Maybe he wanted a fresh start? He could be still alive out there... |
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Ah the love of a son for his father. He loved him so much he changed his name and everything about him to move in his fathers killer and get even. Lets hope that your family has sustained its need for vengeance. |
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