Big Tony: A Short Story
Tony Mortello was having one of those conversations he hated having—especially over the phone. Who knows who was listening?
“So, you tell the son of a bitch that if he don’t pay, I’m gonna kill him! YOU HEAR ME?”
In frustration, he whacked the phone on the table like he was hammering a nail.
Sammy took notice. “Easy, Tony. Don’t kill the phone. What’s got you all worked up?”
Tony sneered. “The whole damn world, Sammy. A guy borrows ten grand and promises to pay me back on Sunday. Well, Sunday comes and—nothing.”
“What?” Sammy said.
Tony nodded. “And get this... I call the mark—he doesn’t answer. Skips town. My boy Franky spots him in Vegas with about fifty grand.”
“Fifty grand? And he won’t pay you back?”
“Yeah,” Tony said. “Franky being cool, tries to collect, but the guy pulls a gun and shoots him.”
Sammy shuddered. “What! They shot Franky?”
Tony shook his head. “Yeah, I still can’t believe it. Poor kid.”
“Is he alive?”
“Yeah. Got shot in the leg,′ Tony said. “And that ain’t all, Sammy. The mark skips town again. This time with over eighty grand. Eighty fucking grand, and he won’t pay me back.”
Tony lit a cigar and took a long puff. He looked out the large window in his office at New York City.
He sighed. “What’s the world coming to? A man used to borrow money, and he’d pay it back. He kept his word. He had honor. But now, there’s no honor—the world’s going to shit.”
“You got that right,” Sammy said. “People just ain' honest like they used to be. So who’s the guy?”
“Jimmy Chu. From Brooklyn.”
“But Jimmy Chu always pays.”
Tony huffed. “Yeah, that’s what gets me. It’s like he’s got a grudge—but I’ve never done him wrong. Doesn’t make sense.”
“Any word on where he went?”
Tony puffed on his cigar and exhaled. “He’s in Cali ... Hollywood ... Says he’s gonna have a taste of the high life—gonna see movie stars.”
“Movie stars?” Sammy laughed. “What the fuck?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Tony said, almost chuckling at the absurdity. “The prick’s gonna live it up on my dime.”
Sammy headed for the door. “Tony, I’ll call Louie and see if he can find the guy.”
“Thanks Sammy. Tell Louie—if he finds him—I owe him big. Big Tony pays his debts. Big Tony don’t forget. Big Tony from the Bronx.”
“Big Tony from the Bronx,” Sammy nodded and left.
Big Tony sat back in his leather chair. His office looked like it belonged to a lawyer or maybe a small-time businessman. Nothing fancy. He wasn’t high society.
He looked out the window at Manhattan—so close, yet so far away. He knew he’d never reach the top there. It wasn’t built for men like him. But that was okay because he’d never fit up there in anyway. That world was too polished.
Tony glanced at his reflection in the wall mirror. Fat, balding—and even though he wore the best Italian suits—he never quite sparkled. There was nothing fancy about Big Tony. He was just Bronx through and through.
In Manhattan, among the big shots, he’d be a nobody. But in the Bronx, he was king. Nothing moved without his say-so. People respected him. People feared him.
Well, they did up until now.
Tony sat back in his chair, thinking of the Jimmy Chu situation. Was he losing it? Was he losing his edge?
He took another drag from his cigar—an expensive contraband Franky had smuggled from Havana. Something that carried a $10,000 fine and six months in prison if the feds found it. But Franky didn’t care. He knew how much Tony loved Cuban cigars.
Tony muttered. “Tony never forgets who does him right and he definitely don’t forget who does him wrong.”
He pictured Franky in a hospital bed, shot because of him. It made Tony want to strangle the bastard who did it.
“And wait until Gina finds out.” Tony shivered slightly. He didn’t fear much. But he did fear his big sister Gina, Franky’s mother.
He could already hear her yelling about how she never wanted Franky in the business--the sleaze she called it. She didn’t want him turning into Bronx bum like her brother and his friends.
Tony smirked. “Gina’s got a way with words. Whoever she don’t like, she calls a bum.”
He looked toward Manhattan again. He’d never belong there. But Gina? She could have. She had the sparkle to fit in with high society types.
It had once been his dream: him and his sister ruling New York like king and queen. She had the fire. The brains. The power.
But she always said no.
“What could’ve been,” Tony said, puffing on his cigar. “But who knows—maybe someday.”
He just had to find a way to bring Gina into the fold.
When Gina found out Franky had been shot, her first thought was of Big Tony.
“I’m gonna kill him,” she said. “I told Tony I didn’t want Franky mixed up in this mess. But people can’t say no to him—he pulls them in, one way or another.”
She wasted no time to put the word out. She wasn’t in the family business, but she knew people. She made calls.
They found Jimmy Chu. He was at that famous burger joint in L.A.—In-N-Out or whatever they call it.
Gina’s boys packed Jimmy Chu up nice and tight and brought him back to the Bronx—alive and kicking.
* * *
When Gina walked in. Tony was still at his desk, smoking. She pulled the cigar from his mouth and crushed it under her heel.
“Gina, I know what you’re gonna say,” Tony muttered.
She didn’t respond. She just gave him the evil eye—the same one she’d been giving him since childhood. She was the older sister, and she’d been dealing with her brother’s crap since the day he was born. She loved him—they were family—but sometimes... she hated him.
“So you ain’t gonna talk?” Big Tony asked, nervously. He’d never seen his sister look so cold-blooded. It rattled him. He also kind of liked it.
“I have nothing to say. What’s done is done,” Gina said.
“Gina, I’ll find the guy—”
“Don’t bother. I’ve got him coming,” she interrupted.
“What?” Big Tony sat back in his big chair, surprised. Just further proof that his sister was perfect for the business. If only she could see it. If only she would reconsider.
“Never send a man to do a woman’s job,” she said. “You’ve got your boys, Tony. I’ve got mine.”
“You called Angelo, didn’t you?”
“Don’t start. Angelo’s a nice guy. And it’s none of your business who I date.” Gina scowled, lighting up a cigarette from the humidor on Big Tony’s desk.
Gina was fifty, but still striking. She had that classic pin-up quality—like Bettie Page—with thick black hair, an hourglass figure, and pouty red lips. But there was a tough edge to her. She was as rough as the streets she came from.
“Fine... whatever,” said Big Tony.
He hated Angelo. His sister was too good for him. The guy was all looks, no brains—and a hothead to boot.
Still Tony smirked. He was seeing something even though Gine couldn’t.
“I can’t believe you found Jimmy Chu so quickly.” he said.
Gina sneered. “If some son of a bitch shoots my Franky, there’s nowhere he can hide. I’ve never liked the business, Tony. I told you that. But when shit like this happens? It’s nice knowing it can all be fixed with a few calls.”
Tony nodded, a crooked grin forming on his face.
“That’s power,” he said, eyes gleaming as he nodded at his devilishly.
He could feel her slipping. Gina was already toeing the line—and he knew, deep down, that one day she’d join him. She just needed a little push.
He knew everyone had a price.
What was Gina’s?
There was a knock.
The door opened, and in walked Vito, Angelo, and Pauly—Gina’s boys—dressed in their sharpest Italian suits. Slung between them was a man tied up in a cloth sack, a plastic bag pulled over his head.
They dropped him in front of Tony’s desk. One of them yanked off the plastic bag.
It was Jimmy Chu—bloody, bruised, and barely standing.
Gina walked up and slapped him hard across the face. “That’s for my Franky—you cocksucker!”
Tony stepped forward, voice cold. “You borrow money, skip town, and then you shoot my family. You’re gonna pay, Jimmy?”
“Big Tony, listen—this is all a big misunderstanding,” Jimmy Chu said, squirming. “I didn’t know he was your family. Honest. I thought he was trying to rob me.”
“You’re a liar, Jimmy,” Tony snapped. “And I hate liars.”
“Honest, Tony,” Jimmy said. “On my mother’s grave. He didn’t tell me he was working for you—he just said, “Give me your money!” You know, it took me a while, but then I remembered him. Tony, Franky ain’t a saint. He plays on the other side of the tracks.”
“What?!” Big Tony said.
“Watch what you say about Franky,” Gina warned, slapping Jimmy again.
Jimmy winced from the sting. “Honest, Gina, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that I’ve seen Franky working for Fat Tommy in Queens.”
“You’re lying!” Gina shouted.
“No. On my mother’s grave, Gina, I swear to you—Franky’s an enforcer for Fat Tommy. And... I owe Tommy big. A hundred grand. No disrespect, Tony, but I know you won’t break my legs—but Tommy will. So I took your money to Vegas. I was gonna gamble it up, make enough to pay both of you back. I was on a roll—till your Franky showed up. Shit, I was almost there.”
Tony’s eyes burned, his jaw clenched tight. Gina could see that look—the one he got when someone betrayed him. And she knew—nothing boiled Tony’s blood like betrayal.
“There’s no way Franky would double-cross you, Tony,” she said quickly, trying to cool the fire in her brother’s eyes.
The door opened, and Franky limped in. He saw Gina. He saw Big Tony.
“It’s a party!” Franky said, flashing a big smile.
But when he saw Jimmy Chu, his smile went south.
Franky was in his twenties and good-looking. His wide eyes made him look innocent, but his smile made him look dangerous.
“Franky?” Gina said, smiling with relief—then quickly turned worried as she caught the scowl on Big Tony’s face. Did he actually believe Jimmy Chu—that Franky had betrayed him? And if Franky was guilty... would Tony really take revenge on his own family?
He caught the heat in Tony’s eyes, but it didn’t bother him. He’d seen that look plenty of times before. He knew what it meant—but why worry? Tony was family.
Franky could’ve lied. Could’ve spun a story and pinned it all on Jimmy Chu. But he knew he didn’t need to. He had nothing to fear with Uncle. Tony. Uncle Tony loved him.
“Well, Uncle Tony... I guess you figured things out,” he said with a crooked grin—the same grin he always flashed when he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
It used to work. Gina had let him get away with murder as a kid. Franky never learned how the real world worked.
Why didn’t you tell me?” said Big Tony, shaking his head. “You were two-timing me all this time. You know what happens when people do that?”
“Tony, come on... I figured you’d let it slide,” Franky said. “We’re family, right? ...Right?”
Tony didn’t answer. He wasn’t smiling. He looked at Franky with a gaze colder than any Franky had ever seen.
“Uh... Uncle Tony? Big Tony?” Franky said, his voice cracking.
It was the first time in his life that he felt something. It was down in his stomach—like a swarm of bees tearing around inside.
He was scared.
Tony reached into his desk and pulled out a gun.
He aimed it at Franky.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
The first shot was Tony’s. His arm jerked and he missed Franky.
The second shot was Gina’s—right in Tony’s heart. She loved her brother, but she loved her son more. There was no way she’d let Tony kill Franky.
The third shot came from Angelo. A bullet in Tony’s back. Franky never knew his father, but Angelo would do anything to protect his son.
Big Tony dropped to the ground, covered in blood, gasping for air.
Gina ran to his side and knelt beside him.
“I’m sorry, Tony,” she said with tears in her eyes, kissing Tony’s forehead.
Tony looked up at her, his voice weak. “Gina, I always knew you were cut out for this business.
“I don’t want it,” Gina said, crying.
“Want it or not ... you in it now,” Tony said.
He closed his eyes and took his last breath.
