The Four Families Of New Dominer

New Dominer - Fictional city based mostly of New York.

                       - Boroughs: Mainland (Manhattan), Kings (Queens), Onyx (Bronx), Crooklyn (Brooklyn)

Setting - New Dominer, 1906 - 1924

A whole year I spent doing some work for Ramon. Cash came fluttering in like birds flying south for winter. I was making more cash than other children my age, especially immigrants. April 9th, 1909 I jogged down to Willy's looking for my boss. I ran to the door, ready to open and get to work, but I stopped. I heard yelling. Know what kind of line of work I'm in I ducked behind the window on the left side of the building and looked in. I saw Ramon alone with two other men; one large and muscular, obviously dumb muscle and the other an average built with a large scar across his face, he wore a pinstriped suit and held a pistol in hand. They were both Italian.  I could hear what they were yelling.

"What the fuck do you mean you don't have the cash Ramon?!" The man with the gun shouted.

"Look, Philip, it's been a tough year for me. Heat's on to me. I had to hire some help!" Explained Ramon.

"Help? You hired help?! The only 'help' you'll need is a doctor when I'm done with you!"

With that Philip snapped his finger and the large one through a punch across Ramon's face, teeth flying and blood running from his mouth. The large male gripped Ramon's shoulder and laid another blow to his stomach. Then he wrapped his large hand around the back of Ramon's head, receptively slamming his face into the counter. Ramon was a ragdoll, helpless unable to defend himself. The muscle bound man let him go, Ramon dropped to the floor.

Philip placed his left foot on Ramon and aimed the gun at his head with his left arm.

"Now, Ramon, who was this 'help' you hired?" Philip asked and pressed his foot downward.

With a cry of pain Ramon answered, "It was some kid! I sent a kid to do some errands and split the cash with him! That's why I couldn't pay it all!"

"You mean to tell me that some kid has my cash?!" He shouted with rage, "Tell me who he is and where to find him!"

"I'm not telling you a thing!" Ramon answered.

Philip stopped and gave a hard look at him and then replied, "You know, Ramon, I was wrong. The help you need is a priest to save your soul."

Philip pulled the trigger, ultimately ending his life. The art of the execution splattered all over floor. Then the assailants turned to the door. My eyes widen, and heart pounded but I still knew what to do. I jumped away from the window and crawled beside to the side of the building and hid behind a trashcan. I could hear the men walking down the steps. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The walking got louder and louder, I knew they were beside the alley when they stopped.

"Philip you really think the Godfather is gonna be happy 'bout Philip's death?" The muscle bound thug asked.

"Relax, Isaac, Don Giacavelli wasn't worried about him. He's nothing. He didn't do anybody any good, except maybe that damn kid." Answered Philip.

"Maybe you're right."

"Of course I am. Now, let's go. We got to meet up with some friends."

They walked away. I exhaled and recapped what just happened. I shed a few tears over Ramon's death. But this was no time to mourn, I had to be strong - I had to be strong. I stood up and lingered back to East Forman, hoping to come home to a loving family. I was wrong. I entered my tenant and found my father standing in front of the door, angered.

"Joseph, where have you been?" He asked.

"At school, papa."

"At school. Joseph, the school contacted me. They say you haven't been in school for months!"

"Well, err ..." My voiced trailed.

He examined me, "Empty your pockets."

I knew what he was doing. I hesitated and pulled out my right pocket, which was empty.

"The other one, Joseph!" He told me.

I gulped and pulled out that pocket, a small wad of cash came too. My father snatched away the cash and asked, "Where did you get this?!"

I didn't answer.

My father stopped. He knew what I was doing. "Okay."

My dad walked to my room and kicked the door open. He frantically began flipping over my bed, pulling out drawer and throwing items around. He found a gun located in the third drawer.

"Why is this here?!" He asked holding the snub nosed revolver.

"Papa ..." I trailed again.

"No." He began to raise his voice, "So you want to be a thug?! You want to be a gangster?!"

"Yes!" Thoughtlessly I answered.

He stood there stunned and then added, "Fine. Be a criminal." He tossed the wad of cash at me, emptied the revolver and tossed it too. I caught them both, "Get out of my house!"

"But, papa ..."

"GET OUT!" He yelled and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and carried me to the door, and threw me down the stairs. "I hope you have fun as a criminal, because you're no longer my son!"  With that he slammed the door shut.

I struggled to my feet, a tear ran down my face. No I would start my life a loner.