I had been walking down the street for quite a while now; I had the address but did not know the streets so I almost felt lost. This was probably the first time I was stepping out of Manhattan where I was born and raised. But now as I was clenching to my coat fearing that someone might pick my pocket and steal away all that is left of my belongings, I slowly made my way toward a man who hit the last straw of any chance I had for a peaceful life.

That was it. that was the place. A three story building on Alfred Street. On the third floor resided a loan-shark who was called Joana. I didn’t know his actual name was and had no idea why they called him Joana. All I knew was that it was him that forced me into making this dramatic change to my life.

As I walked up the stairs trying to keep my calm, I was running my speech in my head. I had not the slightest idea what was going to happen in there, which made me much tenser.

I knocked on the door:

“Who is it?” A harsh voice from inside the house quickly replied.

“Um. Hi. I’m. I’ve. I’ve come to see Mr.Joana.”

Inside, a laughter broke out and soon I heard footsteps approaching the door. As the door flung open, it revealed a short and plump man who was still laughing and almost had tears in his eyes.

“Are you carrying?” His tone was suddenly serious.

I was baffled by the question, “Carrying what?”

“Pff, civilians. Bring your arms to your shoulders’ height, I’ll be frisking you.”

He started with my coat and made his way down, thoroughly checking everything.

“He’s clean” he shouted toward his friends inside and turned back to me saying:

“Come in boy. Mr.Joana…” he broke into laughter again and only managed to point me further down the house.

Another voice came: “Well at least he didn’t say Mrs.Joana.”

“SHUT UP you doofs.” It was Joana trying to quiet down his men. “Come over here boy. Sit.”

Joana was probably the worst dressing person I had ever seen. His clothes WERE expensive-looking but they were poorly matched. It seems that he just went into different stores and bought the most expensive item then threw them together to make his outfit. All these augmented by the scar that ran along his face from under his left eye down to his chin made him look rather hideous.

As I proceeded toward Joana I found myself surrounded from four sides by his men. I was starting to sweat out of my entire body. I took a deep breath before sitting down in front of Joana.

He leaned in toward me, “What do you want?”

“My father borrowed some money from you to buy a printing press and to get a printers’ shop together. But as the economy turned, my father’s business took a turn for the worse. It was barely netting his enough money to support his family, let alone paying back a loan-shark. And a while back his shop was burned down with him inside it. The fire-fighters said it was arson.”

Joana’s men were reaching for their belt. Or more accurately they were reaching for the thing that they had placed by their belt. I felt my mouth dry up.

“Well. Tough. He knew what he was getting into. If you are looking for trouble we will give it to you too, no problem.”

“I am not looking for trouble Mr….” I cleared my throat, “I am not looking for trouble Joana. With the printers’ gone I have no source of income. And I know I’m not a bruiser or a sharpshooter. But I am good with records, tables and statistics. I am good with routes, plans and blueprints. I have a good eye for details and good deals.”

Joana leaned back in his chair: “What are you getting at?”

“I am looking for a job. And I am asking you to put me in contact with people who are hiring.”

“Is that right kid? You wanna join Mafia?”

“Well yes and no. I don’t think I have what it takes to be a mafia. I lack the abilities for the essential orders of business. but I can be a great help. I can be an associate, helping them finding their enemies locations and keeping records for them.”

“Hah, well I wasn’t expecting to hear that. You got balls kid, walking in here and asking for a job like that. I give you that. But I don’t need associates. As you can see I have enough of these doofs around me. But I will give you the name of a contact that may just be able to put you into a job.”

He then picked up a piece of paper and scribbled something on it. After I took the note from him, I was about to read it when Joana interrupted:

“Now get out of here. And it’s not my fault if you get shot down.”

I heard the sound of the door opening and turned around to see the short, plump guy holding the door open. I made my way toward the door, went through it and dashed down the stairs, not looking back even once…