Chapter 1
You have changed into a different person a man who is now older and not wiser. I am totally at a loss to see the man I fell in love with.
Mother Zeks was mimicking me.
In fact, the whole family, even the extended ones. mimic and more as if their laughter was resounding.
She loved to do that it sort of passed the time. Made her life most interesting. She knew my story so she copied it. She loved films and she took aspects of them and made them into her story.
"You have become her the woman the wife the mother. How dare you come into my life."
"I am a man."
They have exchanged identities.
I knelt at your feet. Made a bed of roses for you then blew the covenant and felt the stings of the gang warfare.
Still raging ongoing the rage of traditions and the traditions coming at me.
Speaking saying you are the worst daughter in there. You fell for someone, not ours so we will make them whores. Outsiders are not to be protected.
She you set me up for? She the woman whom I have avoided all my life? You denied me legal money and means and a home for her? Did you give it all to her?
Have you taken leave of your senses, man? I who am this anger personified supposed to be mad.
But he is happier than anyone can say. He is so happy he is laughing at the whole scene. Negotiate he says.
His wife has bullied me all her life.
We went to the same school she kept in touch.
I have always been bullied by her and her gang. The essence of bullying is when I have something they ask politely then take that. If I refuse it is a long fight if I say I think about it. One needs this release from the cramp and the crap.
When I am not looking she takes it and shares the spoils with her friends.
People in the street are laughing at me.
We await the outcome we wait patiently as if the whole thing is about waiting and winning if one remains standing and able to complete a question.
"How are you today?"
I shot myself in the leg.
I have no money.
Money and most of the time it is about the appearance of the individual. The worst female gang is hers. Her fan base is them. The Jack the Ripper society. She is a descendent of his I swear. What she has created is bland and obvious. Sheer audacity is what she has.
"She loves me," She shrills.
See nothing and it will not hit you.
She grips her hands in silent prayer she will win the round. She is feeling it too. The combat has gone on too long. I am sixty-four and she must be in her 59th to sixty years old.
He the man is lost he does nothing he appears to have had his hands tied behind his back.
"My children, my wife," he said.
I think about the early days when he had the strength and the authority to act. Now he is no longer acting but seemingly paler than ever. He has constipation.
I stare at him he is sweating and all that. I do not fear death but he does. His cancer may be returning.
He is fearful his life is ending and mine what life did I have with them married to each other? When I was nearly killed he went on his honeymoon with her.
He was the groom.
When something bad happened like that he left me stranded. He returned from his honeymoon. Secretly he almost whispered do not share this with anyone.
It was over-finished.
I took the money they gave me and left. I am a woman so poor that they can speak to me like that?
Scrapping and saving.
The well-fed and the not-so-well provided for. Her laugh tinkle. One of her bloody valises would cost more.
She has become a woman married now. She is able to contain her suitcases no longer. She has provided him with the lingerie and the shoes he can drink from.
But he just got married to her the woman of his dreams. The confetti on the sleeve and the shoulders was brooder than ever.
He is not the man for anyone anymore. I look at him with a kind of quiz what is he doing here?
His wife too is there helping with the stitches. Believe me, she said she would make me look almost as good as I used to be. The public deserves them they are such good people.
"Do you need a local anesthetic?"
"No,"
If I had then I would be staying a couple more hours longer in the hospital. People do not know the mafia like I do. I am the daughter of the mafia so do know. I am that.
I thought grimly.
Speed was the key to taking myself to safety the only option because I had the kids to sort out. They were under five.
My sister's kids.
At a near-death experience, I had experience. I saw the light that I had to educate the kids and sort of help them to grow.
I am nothing. She laughed and talked and set me at ease. The pain as she stitched the twenty-nine stitches was intense.
Sheer malice. Delighted always to be here. A saint.
He loved her lack of jealousy.
I thought painfully.
I did not want to die.
Dad the Fidel came as if the driver were in a rush.
Fidel said make your way home if you don't come now. I will give you a taxi fare home. Sounded too reasonable did it not?
The mafia owned the cabs they caused accidents when they wanted to. I knew them I have known them. When in doubt do not enter their cabs.
Who is behind the car?
Subject unknown.
The bride and groom are so cheerful.
I was kind to them acted the part of a patient and led them to believe there was nothing wrong. I was not going to behave as if anything was wrong. Did not want them to see or understand my resentment.
I gritted my teeth pride I guess.
Champagne on ice? Baby what a deal. I have been butchered and I need help to fork out but he seems not able to feel anything anymore.
I walk out.
Why did not I go and take a taxi he is annoyed. The groom is annoyed at me?
I become a glacier.
Fidel drove me he known as Pa did want to destroy me but he was not competent.
If I am left stranded out in the streets what would I do? I have no strength to fight. I have lost a lot of blood. I am anemic.
Somehow I do not say it. I get into the car and there it is Fidel tried to open the door and tried to throw me out. Someone in the bar in there looking at us with triumph. Who was looking down at us as if we were trash? As we slowed down.
It was him it was him.
There are moments I thought when life cannot get crueller.
I stray from the arms of that Fidel and we glare at each other. He is shaken. He did not know I knew.
"This is how it is going to be," I say.
He is almost obedient.
"I am not working at that silly job anymore."
"I will give you six week's break."
"No."
"They will kill me." He said sadly.
"I cared and looked after you and you set me up."
"I looked after you when you were a child."
"That is why you live," I said.
"We will see."
He looked thoughtful as if thinking.
He did not like to see my eyes. My eyes made his conscience come back. Because my eyes were the same as his mum's. His dead mother's.
In the long line of fools, they now committing the perfect crime.
"Do not mistake me," I said," I want to live in order to make this as difficult as possible."
He jumped.
I smile grimly he is almost afraid. My face makes him shudder.
"You hate now?" He asked pleasantly.
"No concern of yours."
We were trapped inside the car.
Years of resentment and the fool I had become taken to the cleaners.
I did know what to do it had become clear to me.
I am shaken. How simple it wa
