Taking Care Of The Mobster

It slowly dawns on me the implications of his words. A mother who’s barely acknowledged my existence from the moment I was born will trade my life and future for a small stash of drugs. I start to shake my head as tears rapidly roll down my face.

“No...But I can’t....” I turn toward Jessica, holding her soulless gaze, hoping she’ll see the desperate plea in mine. “You can’t make me do this. Please, I’ve got school and...and....”

“You do what he says, you little scum!” Jessica snaps in a loud screech, cutting off my pleas. “What use have you got otherwise? You’d rather watch your mother die?”

“But.. But...You can’t do this,” I say helplessly.

“On that note, Papi...Think I can’t get a new stash?” Jessica asks, struggling to look up at Papi through the pain of having her hair yanked. “I need enough crack to hold me for a month, at least? Since he’s going to work for you all his life anyway.”

“Get the fuck out of my face, bitch,” Papi snaps, throwing her across the room. “Next time I see you, you’ll be at the opposite end of my gun.”

“Yes, Papi,” Jessica says and scampers out of the room without a backward glance.

“Take the boy away,” Papi says to the man that brought me in. “He’s to start immediately.”

“No...,” I say, struggling against the stronghold of my captor. “No...Wait...No! No!”

“Carlos? Carlos! Wake up!”

I snap my eyes open, and my gaze clashes with concerned green eyes that have served as my peace for the past week. In her gaze, I immediately find comfort and repose.

“Abby...,” I murmur softly and take a deep breath. “I must have woken you up. I’m sorry.”

“No. No,” she says quickly, shaking her head. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reply. “It’s just a nightmare.” Of course, it’s not just a nightmare...It’s my hell, one which I have relived a thousand times with the same agony as the very day it happened. I know I have done bad things, but sometimes I wonder what I did to suffer this cruel fate.

I wonder why that day was chosen to be my hell. It’s a day I wish I never lived to see, the day that I was ripped of my innocence and thrust into the damned gangster life. I was only eleven, but it seems like forty-two year old me still hasn’t found a way to deal with the trauma of being abandoned so callously by the one who was supposed to love and protect me.

Abby gingerly sits at the edge of my bed, leaning forward to look into my face with concern in her eyes. “Do you…want to talk about it?” she asks hesitantly.

Strangely enough, I want to talk to her about my fears – everything. I sit up slowly and sigh. “It’s not a big deal...It’s about the night my mother abandoned me in exchange for a crack debt and some more drugs.”

“What?” Abby says as if she’s unable to comprehend the entire concept. “What type of mother does that to her son?”

“Mine,” I say with a humorless laugh. “I was eleven, but I swear I planned her murder in my head every night that I had to deliver drugs and run from the cops. I don’t know if I’d have been able to carry out my plans, but those thoughts made that hellhole a little more bearable. Luckily for me, she OD’d on some hard shit a few years later, and I didn’t have to go to jail for her death.”

“I’m so sorry,” Abby says. She leans forward to take my hands in her small ones. She squeezes gently, giving me the strength that I didn’t know I needed until this moment. I wonder if she’s sorry about Jessica’s death or my predicament as a child. It takes me a while to realize that Abby is sobbing quietly, still holding on tightly to my hands.

“Abby?” I say, leaning in to search her face. Her little sniff of response confirms my suspicion. “Are you...are you crying?”

She raises her tearful eyes to mine and shakes her head softly. “I’m...I’m sorry. It’s just...I’m so angry. Why would she do that to a child?”

“Oh, Abby...,” I say, despite the huge lump in my throat. “Come here.”

I wrap my arms protectively around her and pull her against my chest. She melts into me, placing her palm against my chest as if to calm the erratic beating of my heart.

The thought that she’s angry on my behalf makes me feel emotions that I don’t understand. I tighten my arms around her, grateful for the silent strength that her presence lends.

It’s going to be a long night, but one that would have been torturous if Abby hadn’t come into my life.

CHAPTER SIX

Abby

I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. It’s barely nine in the morning, but something tells me Carlos is awake already. I can’t help but wonder if he’s doing well after last night’s episode.