It was cold; it was foggy; and Benny could taste the violence in the cities air.

He stood patiently at the train station; yet for what? He had nowhere to go. Nowhere to be. The minutes & hours ticked by as he jostled the few coins he had left in his coat, shucks, he couldn’t even afford a damn train ticket if he wanted.

He originated from Sicily; like so many other of his countrymen that went before; and many that would come after. He landed in New York with nothing more than promise, for hope, for greater things? He felt in his bones that better & brighter things were ahead. They just had to be; right? His entire childhood back home he witnessed men go broke, die with nothing, and nobody around. “That’s never fucking happening to me” Benny thought to himself.

He stubbed out his cigarette and began to walk into the night. His parents were simple, penniless. But loving nonetheless. His mother worked for the Governor as a maid. His father? Well wouldn’t you like to know. I’m sure you would. He was nothing but a mere fisherman. Looked down on by most; if all of his fellow countrymen. It was a messy job, a rotten job. Benny could still feel the smell of old; aged mouldy fish at the back of his throat if he just closed his eyes he was back there. Both his parents had since perished, there was nothing left for him in Sicily. It was time to make a new life; starting today. Hew wanted more; he needed more.

The struggle was real to even make it to New York; the winters were tough back home; they were cold. His father perished through pneumonia, Benny couldn’t share the same fate as his father. What little money he was left was used to get himself a passage to the American dream. Opportunities; money; freedom. New York offered it all. Whether any of this was true was irrelevant to him at this point. It’s what he believed and nothing and nobody would tell him otherwise.

As Benny walked into the night he could still smell smoke in the air from the factories; they were still operating. They never switched off. There was always something, or someone around. The city of ambition was there for Benny; it was all on offer. He just needed to reach out and grab the first opportunity that arose to him.

Yet he’d heard about The Great Depression. How it had utterly devastated the state. There were murals still on walls giving tribute to lost souls; people that went missing and were never found. Many men took it upon themselves to provide for their families an alternative way; through a life of crime. Benny knew that he had the balls to take this jump. He didn’t have anything to live for anyway; nobody knew him, he was yet another stranger in this new town of Queens.

Many families made their accommodations from the breadline, scraping together what they had to make shelters out of carboard and scrap metal. There was not much chance of surviving any brutal weather conditions at this rate, and Benny was never going to spend a single night in that kind of situation. As he walked through the town and locked eyes with many people holding out their hands; begging for a single coin, any option to not go hungry for one night. It was desperation as he’d ever seen it. But Benny did feel sorrow; somewhat sympathy for the people that he’d surrounded himself by. Yet through all of this pain & suffering. There was still a feeling of this city offering so much hope; because it felt so alive. He found a local lodge that he could put his head down for the night. He had only a few hours of rest before sunrise. But he needed every minute; every second to adjust to his new life, in New York.

Benny arose from what seemed like no time what-so-ever. Just as quickly as his eyes shut they were once again open; all he could hear was shouting. Due to exhaustion it even crossed his mind; was he back in Sicily? His surroundings reminded him of home; the fog still hadn’t cleared, it was damp, and the air was stale. Benny could hear hoarse coughs coming from other rooms nearby. This certainly wasn’t paradise. Anything but – however it was security; for now. Whatever that meant.

Yes; Benny was far from Sicily. Very far indeed. Reality hit him like a punch to the stomach. Sleeping on the floor, in a local lodge, in New York city. Was this the future? There had to of been more on offer for this life. Benny took to his feet; rubbed the dryness from his eyes and looked out of the window at the street. It was early, it was really fucking early. Sun had barely come up yet there was already plenty of hustle and bustle about the place. The city was alive - Queens was alive.

The loose change was still clinking in Benny’s pockets, he placed his hand inside his back trouser pocket and palmed over the coins. Counting aloud “three bucks & sixteen cents – this is what my lives become?” Enough to keep him fed for two, maybe three days. Then he was out, with nothing – once again his poverty roots were haunting him; and they would never let go of the emotional grip that plagued him.

Benny put on his jacket; heavily worn-out. Half moth-eaten. But hey, it keeps the winters chill away; right? As he took the creaking staircase downstairs to the hall; the lodge keeper looked towards Benny. He could feel the judgement.

“Up this early – you must have a lot planned mister. Yet the way you’re dressed looks like you need some work up in this town. How long have you been wearing those garments?”

Benny smirked to himself; almost as self-admitting to the keeper what a state his life was in at this point in time. “I could do with some pointers for work if you know where, or who I can speak to Miss.”

“You and every other Wise Guy in this town Mister!”

Benny nodded, looked down at the floor slowly, before uttering “so does everyone here, I better find the opportunity before them I guess.”

“Head to the docks, that’s where I send guys. Some aren’t cut out for it though, you gotta have a strong stomach for this work if you get my drift. I don’t mean the fish guts either” – she winked at Benny. He knew the game, he knew what this could mean. But monies money. Work is work. There’s nobody here to judge him, only himself.

Benny thanked the woman, but she shook her head almost in debelief and satisfaction at the same time. “Don’t thank me mister, most never even come back. I can see pain in your eyes though; I feel you’ll be alright out there.”

Benny headed out towards the waterfront docks, the buzz of the town during the day felt so alive; the fog started to lift and Benny could see vendors on the street selling their goods, legal goods. Honest living. He saw children playing tag with their peers. Not a care in the world. Local news being shouted on the street corner. It was all happening that morning. “Was this normal?” Benny thought to himself. This was a far cry from the quietness of Sicily.

The closer Benny got to the docks, the neighbourhoods became rougher; they became darker. The laughter of children vanished. It felt a lot more dangerous. Almost eerie how quick the circumstances changed. There was a darkness about the place. He saw people looking down from their windows, staring right through him. Piercing his eyeballs. Benny just stared back. Fight fire with fire he thought.

By early afternoon Benny had been rejected from five jobs; “no experience” “no expertise” “I don’t fucking know you” “try somewhere else punk” – the insults just kept coming. Benny was at his whit’s-end. He’d never let anyone talk to him like that back home, whatever it might of lead to. Stiff upper lip he thought. Keep persevering. Each rejection Benny faced knocked his confidence, he came to New York to escape rejection; to pursue The American Dream. Right now it looked as if that could end up being a nightmare.

As he approached a narrow street, Benny heard shouting. Quite a loud ruckas going on. So he went to take a look. Hell – he could potentially take out some violent anger on some unlucky punk. At this point Benny was at boiling point. He ended up at a grocery store; the store owner was being help up by his throat by an Irish-American. “Looks interesting” Benny thought to himself as he wondered over to see what’s occurring.

“You’re behind – not just behind. It’s at the point now we’re feeling insulted. You’re taking us for a ride you son of a bitch.” The Irishman barked. Moisture coming out from his eyes, nostrils & mouth. He was apoplectic. The grocer shaking in his boots just about got out his words.

“I’ll have it by the end of this week – I promise!”

“You fucking said that three days ago – what do you think this is going on. Who do you think I’d be to let this slide.” Benny didn’t step in, he didn’t care too. He just stood there – watching. It didn’t take him long to figure something out; this Irishman – was a debt collector; and a fucking scary one at that. Surrounded by muscle; this guy was definitely tooled up for any potential situation right now. It needed to be left well alone. He wasn’t going to step in.

The Irishman released his grip on the grocers throat and he instantly collapsed into a mush on the floor. Fruit went flying all over the road, several onlookers drifted away back into the darkness. Back to their shitty lives. Benny just stood there still; unmoved, he didn’t even feel emotion. Fear, anxiety, sorrow. Absolutely nothing.

“Hey – son of a bitch! You got a fucking problem here?” The Irishman bellowed at Benny. He clenched his fists and started walking towards him. He shook his head, almost in disbelief at what he’d seen; day one in his new home. “Nothing, no problem. Just thinking.”

“And what the fuck is there to think about?”

“I’m thinking if you put a bullet in this sad-sorrows head; there’s no money. Just mess, and a fucking lot of mess at that.”

“Who the fuck are you kid? A fucking brave soul. Trying to be a Wise Guy are you?” The Irishman was getting angrier and angrier; almost like he could tell Benny was talking sense. But never would admit it. His muscle started laughing & chuckling at themselves, one started and it spread like wildfire. They were all howling at Benny’s quick remark. The Irishman looked back at them; looked at Benny. His fists dropped by his side. He picked up his hat from the floor, dusted it down. “Kid you’ve got fucking guts I tell ya.”

“No – just common sense Mister.” Benny risked it all by reaching out his hand. “Names Benny; Benny Lombardi. Pleased to have your acquaintance.” The Irishman receipted back. Firm handshake. It felt like a shovel. He’d been bruising for many a year Benny thought. “Names Paddy O’Rourke – you’re not from round here are you kid. I’ve never seen you around these parts.”

“That obvious Paddy?” – Benny chuckled. “You seem like the kind of guy that gets shit done. I like that; I like that a lot.” Benny threw some compliments to Paddy to try and calm down what was still high tension interaction between the pair. “You looking for work kid?” Paddy asked.

“Desperately, I’ve got three fucking dollars in my pocket. What do you need?” Paddy studied Benny up & down somewhat. He was calculating; he was manipulative that’s for sure. He had the command of the muscle around him. There was an aura around him that’s for sure.

“I know a guy – owns a warehouse down by the docks. Always has work going around for people willing – and able to get their hands dirty.” Benny quipped “I have no issue doing what needs to be done.”

“Good kid – that’s what I wanted to hear. Someone hear in these parts that finally wants to earn their way. The honest way.” Paddy couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he said it. Benny knew that Paddy was obviously involved in activity somewhat not-legal. But he was already in too deep even now. Walk away; he’d seen too much. He’d be a yellow-belly chicken that would just find himself dead from Paddy’s muscle.

“We need you to move some merchandise kid – meet me back here tonight. I’ll introduce you to the right people. You made a good call today kid. You could have a future. Just stay close…capiche?”

The last words spoke by Paddy lingered in Benny’s mind – fraught with potential danger. “Meet me here tonight” – He’d only just met this guy; he was dangerous, he was smart – he was violent. But their brief interaction Benny felt somewhat of trust, he was brave enough to make some comical quips in his direction – and he didn’t have a bullet in the brain. It was worth coming back to the docks; the opportunity that presented itself was worth the risk. He’d not long stepped on New York turf, the future was there for the taking – right? His three bucks wouldn’t last him until tomorrow. He had no choice. Paddy gave a simple enough instruction. So he made his way back.

Benny spent the afternoon walking, pacing at times up and down the blocks of Queen’s. Without much purpose; he must of looked lost to anyone that noticed his social awkwardness, avoid eye-contact, just intent on keeping to his own thoughts. The time drifted away slowly; painfully slowly. His gut told him to be mindful of the danger that was approaching. He had no weapons, he could fight. But maybe take a guy one-on-one. If he got ambushed by muscle; he was done for. If Sicily had taught him one lesson. It was opportunities didn’t ever come for free, everyone looked out for themselves. Surely New York was no different?  Why would Paddy present work for someone he’d only just met? Benny’s guard was up and so it should be. Not that he could do a thing about it.

As the sun began to set; the streets once again began their transformation. The men finishing their honest shifts went to the bars, went back home. Stayed on the streets. The depression was not over by any stretch; there’s plenty of people around still in desperate situations. The poverty was unmatched. If this was one way of convincing him further to attend the meeting arranged – this was it.

Benny arrived at the meeting point – he was twenty minutes early. He’d paced far too much throughout the day – losing track of time at points. But he was here; he was ready. Paddy; he arrived fifteen minutes late. “Good – you’re here!” he noticed Benny looking rather dishevelled, the nervousness was obvious.

“Good?”

“Well kid – it means you’re desperate, smart – or both?” he smirked.

“And the one you’d prefer Paddy?”

“Smart people tend to survive”

And with that, Paddy took Benny by the shoulder and moved him deeper into the docks. The salty air breeze was quite refreshing against his face. Benny’s heart was racing, he’d at this point accepted whatever destiny laid ahead. Death, work, money. It could be anything. In the near distance appeared a large brick-built building. The sign was illuminated “RICCI IMPORTS & DISTRIBUTION CORP” – Whatever this was; it was anything but secret. This was definitely not what Benny expected. Just a building; a legitimate business? There was no muscle guarding the entrance, no sign of any criminal goings-on. If anything it looked more legit & professional than any other building in the docks. As they walked through the front door Benny saw the workers unloading crates from the depot trucks. The work-clerks were frittering between offices; paperwork bundles under their arms. Forklifts were moving up & down the aisles. Everything looked…totally legitimate.

Paddy quipped “what were you expecting? Me to grab a torch, take you to a dark location and uncover a crate of cocaine?” his laughter bellowed.

Benny shrugged his shoulders.. “honestly Paddy – I’m not really sure what I expected. A group of violent murderers?” He smiled back before lighting up a cigarette.

Paddy laughed back – “kid, life ain’t a moving picture you know.” As his eyes started bouncing around all four corners of the warehouse.

The warehouse was so alive; it was past business hours yet all the phones were ringing. Benny could see just as the workers unloaded trucks and stored the crates, new trucks would arrive instantly after and they’d be re-loaded back again and pressed on. It was a military operation. Everything was so precise; everything had its place. Everything had meaning. It tended to Make Benny feel more suspicious about what this actually was; if anything.

Benny noticed one clerk in particular, he had more paperwork files than most; he brushed past him as he went between offices, dropping as he went. Halfway down the hall he was stopped by another worked. Some documents were swapped, the first worker handed over fewer files that he’d had before. Benny raised his eyebrow at the exchange; and the micro-behaviour was definitely noticed by Paddy.

One crate Benny noticed didn’t have RICCI IMPORTS stamped in black on it. Every other crate was carefully labelled up…strange. Benny observed one such delivery logistic route guide on a clipboard – itemised clearly with goods were twenty-four creates. However Benny counted twenty-seven on the truck. One wasn’t labelled, the other 2 were right at the back. Were they missing company stamps too? Either way, Benny noticed un-accounted for crates. Yet the workers acted normal, they didn’t ask questions – just carried on. The atmosphere reminded Benny of his local Sicilian Church. Everyone here knew the rules. Nobody spoke.

Paddy took a tug on his cigar “you’re noticing things kid?”

“Yeah – you could say that.”

“Good – you’re paying attention, you see what some don’t. I like that”

As Paddy let Benny deeper towards the back; Benny spotted two uniformed police officers entering through a side entrance. His heart immediately skipped a beat; Benny was not a fan of law-enforcement. Plenty of scraps with them back home. Knew how dirty they could be; pin shit on a guy that couldn’t defend himself; physically or financially. However – they weren’t around long. Only a couple of minutes. They didn’t speak to anyone, but Benny saw one slipping a small envelope in his inside jacket pocket before leaving out the same door.

“They’re dirty – but sometimes it’s the rats you have to work with to stop others finding the nest” quipped Paddy. Before gripping Benny’s shoulder before taking him towards the door the police officer just came out of. As it opened it was an entire different vibe. These offices were different to the rest; clean windows overlooking the warehouse floor below. Expensive rugs on the floor, cigar smoke filling the air. Cuban at that. Paddy knocked on one of the office doors before entering.

The man behind the door, behind the desk was definitely not what Benny was expecting. Not even close to it. He stood up; held out his hand. Benny went straight over and shook back. “Marco Ricci – pleased to meet you Benny” – he sat back down behind his desk; it was absolutely beautiful. Pure dark mahogany. Benny studied him quickly, assumptions – mid fifties. Well presented. Immaculately perfect. His suit must cost two-thousand bucks at least! His slick-backed dark hair with twinges of grey running through. A solid gold watch reflecting the light. Benny was so confused. He looked more like a banker than a mobster – or even a politician? He had a stack of paperwork on his desk which he was clearly halfway through going over. His voice was calm, gentle – and very welcoming. Benny’s nervousness was gone within a second. He’d spent most of the day anticipating a moment of potential danger. Yet in a blink the emotion was gone. Marco’s eyes were sharp as a razer. He’d sussed Benny. Not in an aggressive way, Benny didn’t feel threatened. He was just observing and evaluating the man standing in front of him.

Marco smiled at Benny – “sit down kid” as a chair was pulled out for him. “So Paddy tells me you’re Sicilian – that right?” “Yes Sir – you are correct. Born and bred.” “And where exactly? What town?” Benny told him the town. To his surprise Marco knew it. Not only did he know it, he’d had dealings with families there. He even referred the Church that only ten minutes ago Benny was thinking about. Now that was a surreal experience. Marco even knew about the fishing industry there, and within minutes they were exchanging stories about mutual acquaintances. The conversation flowed so naturally between the pair. Marco never mentioned violence, or any crimes. He just dug down and asked Benny questions. About Sicily mainly and his parents. How and why he came to America.

Suddenly Marco’s relaxation changed, and he leaned his chair back and smoked his cigar somewhat. “So Benny, what is it exactly you’re looking for here?” Benny was taken back “What do you mean Marco, to what do you refer?” Marco folded his arms “In New York – what are you looking for? Every man arrives here looking for something or someone. Is it money, is it power? Is it respect? What is your reason?” Benny could answer this question honestly and without any hesitation. “Just a future” – Marco nodded slowly. “I really like that answer kid. It means you have eyes on tomorrow. Not after a quick win.” Marco stood up from his desk and ushered Benny towards the window overlooking the workers below. “You see this place kid? Most just see a warehouse; I see opportunities everywhere.” Benny was silent, he didn’t respond. It didn’t need an answer. “America – New York rewards people willing to work. It rewards other qualities too.” It was impossible not to take note of a hidden message that was being delivered here.

Marco sat back down. “So; Paddy tells me you’re interested in opportunities, employment…?” “Correct Marco. That’s why I’m here.” “You can read, write? Know how to follow orders?” Marco smirked. “Well – that depends who’s giving them” quickly barbed Benny. Marco laughed. Genuinely; it wasn’t forced. Benny had produced a genuine reaction from a very powerful man sitting across the room from him. “You know what Paddy. I like him” Paddy nodded back “Told you boss.” Marco slid over an envelope towards Benny. Inside was money; a lot of it. Certainly, more than three fucking bucks. Benny hadn’t seen this kind of money; ever.

Marco nodded at Benny “Report back to me tomorrow morning. I’ve got something.” “No problem, I’ll be here. What will I be doing?” Marco smiled at Benny. Together kid – we’ll figure something out. We always do here. Benny had work, and opportunity in Queens. Someone was willing to cut him a break. He could look to improve himself; finally. Prove all his doubters wrong.

Benny stood up and left the office, he looked back one final time at Marco. He’d already forgotten the exchange, he went back to organising his paperwork. Everything so far looked legitimate to Benny; bar the police officers. Which could have been coincidental anyway. Benny had nothing to worry about. This was a legitimate successful business right? Everything looked ordinary enough. Yet he couldn’t get those crates out his mind. Three were missing from the logs. Why? Where were they off too? It could be dangerous after all? Benny put the envelope in his back pocket, said his goodbye to Paddy before walking into the night. He’d expected to meet a powerful gangster but came across the most professional businessman he’d ever met.

In the future; he’d realise those two things are one of the same; the lines would always merge creating a blur. One didn’t exist without the other.