The Diner

         The rain was coming down extremely hard. The windows in the diner were starting to fog over. Mr. Snyder sat at his regular booth next to the entrance sipping his coffee and thumbing through the newspaper. “Hey Mr. Snyder do you want a little more coffee?” “Don’t bother.”  Mr. Snyder grumbled. He was a grumpy old fart but he was in everyday. He was my only regular in that day. There was actually only one other customer in the diner. He was a person I had never seen before. That is not a big deal. We have new customers in everyday since they finished all of the new offices in the area. The new guy was having an ice tea. He kept looking at his watch. He looked nervous. He was probably in his forties. He was dressed in a descent suit. It wasn’t Armani. The suit was outdated. It looked like he may have purchased it at a thrift store.  His hair was slicked back. Old school. Gray on the sides resembling Paulie from the Sopranos. I wiped a few tables off and approached his table again. “Sir Can I get you a quick bite to eat?” He looked impatient, constantly looking out the window. He gave me a quick glance. He quickly shouted. “No thanks buddy!”  I asked, “Are you waiting on somebody?”  Paulie (that’s who he was to me) didn’t answer. His eyes grew big with fear as he stared out the window. He quickly jumped to his feet.

         Two vehicles screeched to a halt directly in front of the windows on Laura Ave. Three maybe 4 men jumped out of the four door sedans. Maybe there were five men. It seemed like an Army. They were dressed in all black. Ski masks adoring there faces. The Army of men opened fire through the windows of the diner. Bullets penetrating through everything in sight. Glass flew through the air. I ran around the booths and slid into a cubby between the booths and the counter. The automatic gunfire lasted for what seemed like minutes. It probably happened in about 25 seconds. The fire ceased and I heard a man shout, “We popped him!” “Let’s go!” I heard doors slam closed.  I peaked up from my cubby to see the two cars peeling out around the corner. The rain still pouring.  The diner was silent. The kitchen crew must have run out the back. The sound of sirens soon filled the air. The sidewalks and street in front of the store were quickly crowded. Cops arrived on the scene. They were frantic. Several local police officers surrounded the main entrance. I looked out what used to be windows now the tattered window frame with shards of glass poking this way and that. The cops kneeled behind their doors for cover, guns drawn. The cops shouted orders to me. “Hands in the air!” “Hands in the air, Mother Fucker!” I stared towards them in shock. I couldn’t focus on them. There was so much excitement. The crowd of people grew larger with every passing moment. The sound was unbearable. Everything raced through my head. Sirens and screams pierced my ears. My ears began to ring. My eyes blurred. The sound of chaos soon faded to black.

         The Police had already called my wife Faith regarding the shooting. She raced to the hospital. Faith pulled into the parking garage. She hopped out of the car and rushed into the Emergency Room Entrance. She was dressed in her normal lazy weekend attire. An old pair of sweat pants cut off below the knee, one of her old t-shirts from high school “Red Raider Pride,” and flip-flops. She was so cute. Short about 5’1. Dark hair and Dark eyes of Mexican descent. She meant business. She stormed up to the desk car keys making a jingling sound with every step. “Im here to see my husband, Dax.” Is he ok? Was he shot?” Faith was an emotional wreck. The woman at the desk calmed her down. “He is fine!” He passed out due to all of the excitement.” He has one heck of a bump on his noggin though.” “He wasn’t shot.” “I’ll take you to his room.” The nurse escorted Faith down the hall. The cops hovered in front of the doorway to the hospital room. “Can you guys just give him space! “ Faith shouted. “He will talk to you as soon as he is 100%. “
         I woke up a little a little later the hospital bed covered in sweat. “Dax.” “Dax!” “Wake up.” It was Faith. She was sitting on the edge of the bed.  I opened my eyes. The lights blurred my vision. It took me some time to focus. Faith’s face soon came into view.  “Faith, what happened?” I asked. “A man was shot today at the diner,” she said. “I remember that…..”  As I came to the terrifying moment that I experienced quickly flashed through my head. Flash Backs, like vaguely remembering some random dream. Only bits and pieces clearly remembered. “You passed out as soon as the cops pulled up.” My mouth tasted like a shit. “I need some water.” Faith walked to the bathroom and filled a Dixie cup from the sink. “Here you go.” “Thanks.” I drank it like a shot of tequila. “Do you feel ok?” Faith asked. “Yeah im alright.” “So have the cops talked to everyone that was in and around the diner?”  “Yes.” The cops are in the lobby.” Faith said.  “There is a bunch of them in there regular uniforms and a few guys with suits on.” “I think some of them might be FBI!” “They wanted to talk to you right away.” “I told them you needed some rest.” “They were all worried that you wouldn’t remember anything if I let you sleep too long.” Faith was annoyed with the situation. She didn‘t get it. What was with all the cops? What do they want with my husband?  “They are sort of being dicks.” “Especially that Officer Petroski“. “Dax, He really thinks you’re vital in all of this.” “I remember everything I saw!” I said angrily.  “I’ll tell them everything they want to know.” The words spewing out of my mouth. “They shot that the Paulie Walnuts looking guy! “ “There was like 5 or 6 guys I think.” “I looked up and they were standing in front of their cars and just started shooting towards that guy.” “He saw them pull up.” “I saw his reaction.” “He knew someone was coming for him.” “He was all jumpy and constantly looking out the windows.”

          “It was crazy; I can’t believe I witnessed all that.” “I hope I don’t have any nightmares.” “I need to get those windows fixed soon.” “Maybe ill call that Cholo dude and see if he can get me some glass ASAP.” “The diner was everything. The family run business was in the family for 59 years. The diner was typical. Nothing fancy. Long bar lined with stools. A kitchen with an open window with ledge that orders quickly were placed under warmers. Great food. Anything from omelets, steaks, burgers, and the diner’s famous Chile verde. I don’t know what I would do without you.” “Why do you think they shot that guy?” Faith asked.  “I don’t know baby.” “He definitely was tied up with the wrong dudes.”  “Those guys that shot him knew exactly what to do, when, and how.” “They were pros.” Faith would not stop with the questions. “Were they like Hit men?” “Yeah I think so.” “A shooting like this in the Suburbs?”  Faith questioned. “They’ve probably been here forever but nothing like this has ever happened in broad day light.” “I’m just glad everyone is ok.” “Everyone is ok right?” I asked. “Yes“.  Faith said. “That man was the only one hurt.” “They were definitely professionals.” I said.

         “That they were Dax.” We were interrupted by a handsome tough looking man dressed like all the detectives from the TV shows. Suit coat thrown over his shoulder, suspenders, gun visible petruding from his holster. “Sorry to barge in I didn’t mean to startle you guys.” Dax I need to talk to you about what you witnessed today at your diner. “My name is Detective Petroski.” Officer John Petroski was pretty much an all around douche bag. Just a complete asshole. Good looking young cop that let the Detective promotion go to his head. He definitely seemed like he had a chip on his shoulder. Petroski had his reasons for that. Growing up in an extremely abusive home, Petroski and his mother fled their native Poland when Petroski was only six. America had more opportunities and meant a life away from an abusive father in their homeland. Petroski and his mother settled in Bellevue. Where John was an amazing athlete. He graduated from Bellevue West high school and became a police officer shortly after high school and quickly worked his way up the ranks.

         Petroski quickly began. “I need to know everything that happened today.” “You need to tell me every detail.” “The guy that was riddled with bullets was a low level wannabe wise guy named Paulie Milano. “You gotta be kidding me?!“ I said. He even looked like Paulie from the Sopranos. The officer continued. “He also went by “Paulie Picasso,” “Lil P.,” and a few other aliases. How well do you know him? Dax?
         I didn’t get a chance to say a word and Faith was letting him have it. “Listen here Dick,” I mean Detective.” You need to give him a little more time to rest and he will talk to you,” “OK?” “OOOhhh!” the detective shouted the reply like your stereotypical gumbah.” OOOhhh. “You better watch your little lady Dax. She’s got a big mouth for such a little girl.” “Sorry Officer.” “She can be a hand full,” but you don’t have to be a dick. Let me get cleaned up and I will see if they are letting me out of here.  The doctors say when I passed out I knocked my head pretty good.” Im sorry guys.  Petroski said. Petroski hiked at his pants took a deep breath and gazed out the window. He began tapping at the glass. Pigeons perched on the ledge. “It has been a long day for me too. I don’t mean to be rude. I just want to get these guys and the faster I can get some good info the faster when can get these thugs off the street.” “It’sok. I reluctantly accepted his apology. Faith sneered at him and then me. Again, guys I want to apologize. I should not have barged in. As soon as you are ready, I will drive you down to the station so we can get everything on camera and take a good long look at your security tapes from the shooting.
         “Do you and your team have any idea why they killed that man?” I asked. No but we think we may know who was responsible.” Really? Who? Faith said. An old Mafia family from the Chicago area that has been kicking around the Chicago, KC, and Omaha area for years.” You ever heard of the Graziano’s? Petroski questioned?”  As in the Graziano’s Pizza joints. Yeah that’s them. The family also has a Coffee Shop called Graziano’s Coffee. They supposedly have ran numbers and collected bets their since the 60s. The family has been around for years. We have known they have gambled and what not but never anything that didn’t happen at any other bar in town. Them having Mob Ties was always in the back of my mind but I never really worried about it. I mean it’s not like they’ve been whackin people and turning them into coffee. Ha Haa hAAAA. Petroski laughed at his own joke and walked towards the door. When you two are ready just come down to the lobby and we will head to the station so  we can get started on the paperwork. See you two soon. Petroski walked out the door and sarcastically sang dean martin’s famous song “When the moon hits your eye like a big……. Petroski seemed super into all of this. He seemed excited that this terrible random act of violence may have something to do with the Mafia. Faith and I were confused. None of this seemed real.

         The hospital finally let me free! I felt like a prisoner. So what! I had a little bump on my head. Faith and I made it to the Police Station right before sunset. Petroski and his cronies were like kids in a candy store. Nothing like this has ever happened around here. They finally were playing Cops and Robbers. They had to find out who killed Paulie Milano and I might be able to be a huge help. All of my security tapes played simultaneously on 3 13” TVs. The tapes showed me from a side shot asking Paulie if he needed anything. He obviously then glances at his watch and shakes his head no. Slow motion from different angles the same shot plays on the two other TVs. I watch horrified as Paulie jumps to his feet looking out the windows that run the entire length of the front of the diner. The vehicles come to a abrupt halt, doors fly open. I’m watching myself standing motionless in front of the windows. Shattering glass flying towards us. I run towards the the entrance sliding between booths. I silently stare at the TV jaw to the floor watching bullets destroy my diner and worst of all kill a man. That could’ve been me.

         “You ok Dax?” Petroski asked. Yeah im ok. I answered. Unfortunately the shooters’ cars license plates were covered. Have you ever seen these cars at your place? No. After seeing the videos is there anything more you can add to this?” No. I just want to go fix my diner and try not to think about this. Faith and I have to put this behind us.  We have to get back to normal. I have a diner to run. “Well…………..Ok Dax. You and your staff have done everything we’ve asked. We have collected all of your witness statements and well……….you guys are free to go. We will keep you posted if we find anything out and if you or any of your crew has anything…..I mean anything…… don’t hesitate to call. You know where to find me.” Petroski smiled like he planned that whole closing speech a thousand times in his head. He had a hard on for this shit. “Ok we will.” thanks. I grabbed my coat and walked around the desks and out the Station’s door. Faith was in the car parked in handicapped. “Faith.” Why are you parked in a handicap spot in the Police Station parking lot?” “What are they going to do…..Write me a ticket? I laughed and faith started the car. We pulled out of the lot and made our way home.

         

         I attempted to console Faith on the drive home. We rounded the corner and turned onto Cordes Dr. It must have rained while we were in the police station. Rain water ran along the sides of the street into the gutters. Faith cried the entire way home. She was freaked out. I was inches from dying today.  Any one of those bullets could have easily hit me. I calmed Faith down. I tried to let her know that it was going to be ok. Obviously, Paulie Picaso did something bad and these guys were out to get him. It just sucked that he happened to be in my diner. He could have picked any place in the world, but this guy had to come to my diner. I surprisingly wasn’t too scared or worried about it. I was just glad it was over. I was ready to get the windows fixed and the walls patched up and just get back to normal. Like I said I wasn’t scared or worried until I saw a strange car parked a couple of houses down as we pulled into the driveway. Luckily Faith didn’t notice the car. It was one of the cars that was at the diner earlier that day. It was one of the same black sedans involved in the shooting. I got out of the car and helped Faith out of the driver’s seat. As we walked towards our front door the car slowly crept around the corner. They were watching us. What did they want? They must think I know something. I know nothing. Maybe if I see them again I’ll try to approach them. Maybe if I tell them that I don’t know anything they will leave me alone? I wouldn’t be lying to them. I really don’t know anything. Yeah. That is what I’m going to do. I’m just going to tell them the truth. Then they will leave us alone.


         I was exhausted but I couldn’t sleep. My mind was keeping me awake. I tossed and turned all night. Were they waiting in a car in front of the house?  Even worse, are the masked men going to barge in the door?

         Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! The alarm clock screamed its wake up call. I barley opened one eye to glance at the clock. 4:40am. This lasted for days. No sleep. Faith grew more frustrated. She didn’t want me to beat myself up about it. I needed to move on. I slowly got back into a routine. The Diner was what I loved. Getting back to the Diner is what I needed. I knew that reliving that shooting once again would be a possibility when I walk in through the double doors of the Diner.

          I finally called Fabian. Fabian and his brother Jorge were some tough Cholos from the neighborhood. They owned and operated Hernandez Glass. They did everyone’s work on Laura Ave. The crew and I had the diner ready for business. Fabian and Jorge put the finishing touches on the new front windows. Fabian added his own tint and designed a new logo on the front of the windows. This of course was done free of charge. It was favor. Some people may be intimidated by the cholo look. Prison Tatts covered both Fabian and Jorge. They looked scary but we trusted each other.  I knew that they were involved in some shady things in the past, gang banging and whatever. It didn’t bother me. I threw them a bone they would throw one back. I considered both Fabian and Jorge friends.  Fabian and Jorge could do anything. Fabian was a Jack of All Trades.. He fixed cars, cooked great Mexican food, allegedly flew planes in Mexico, but most importantly did glass artwork. A large coffee cup was neatly etched on the glass. Steam gently rose from the cup. The name “The Diner” scribbled across the mug. Fabian shouted across the diner, “Wha Chu think Ese?” “It looks awesome Fabian, gracias! Do you and your brother want breakfast before I open the doors?” “Nah, Jorge’s Old Lady made Tamales last night!” “She made a batch for you too ese!” Fabian and Jorge were cool. They were good guys. They were the type of guys you were glad they were on your side.” Jorge smiled and handed me a Styrofoam dish still warm filled with tamales. I thanked Fabian and Jorge for their quick service. They packed up their tools and out the doors they went. I wanted to ask The Hernandez brothers if they might know the Wiseguys that seemed to be watching me. They had to know. I assumed their paths had to have crossed.

         The shooting may have helped the diner. Business seemed to be booming. The news coverage turned The Diner into a mini tourist attraction. A Diner in this mid western town involved in an alleged Mob Shooting. The Diner was packed Morning, Noon, and Night. I even had to have Faith drop in and get on a Cash register for a couple of days. 

         The smell of bacon filled the air. The kitchen staff was ringing the “Pick It Up” Bell every minute or two. The kitchen manager shouted, “Pick It Up!” Bing! The bell rang! I ran past the register towards the order window I noticed two shady looking guys in suits sipping Cokes. I reached the order window. There is no way another Omelet or plate of Steak and Eggs would fit in the window. I couldn’t keep up with the orders. It was too busy to be paranoid.

         As I turned and scanned the dining room every customer seemed suspicious. Every person resembled a Wiseguy. Some in fancy suits others in sweat suits. Every customer seemed to be eyeing me from their peripheral. I yelled to Faith to run plates for me. I ran to the bathroom sweat dripping from my forehead. I turned the sink on full blast. I quickly splashed water on my face and drink from the faucet. I had to get a hold of myself. It had been 3 weeks since the shooting. Not a single enforcer had been by to bust my balls. Jimmy Conway (Deniro in Goodfellas) hadn’t paid me a visit. I was overreacting. There was a terrible act of violence that happened at the diner. It was a one and a billions chance. Nobody was going to call me in the wee hours of the morning and ask me to “Come in” tomorrow. I wasn’t going to meet friends for lunch and take two behind the ear. I wasn’t a Made Guy! I was the owner and manager of a diner. What was I thinking? I finally cooled off and headed back out to the dining room. The day stayed busy. We had our best day of sales ever.

         It felt great to be back in our routine. It felt great to sleep soundly every night. Months had past and Faith and I began a regular day. I began my morning ritual. Shit, shower, and shave. Faith already had the coffee poured and my toast buttered. I sat down to the table and opened the World Herald. I thumbed through the paper. Same old same old. Another shooting in North City. The 8th Murder of the year. There are probably 10 shootings a night in North City. We may only hear of 1 or 2 of the shootings. It is a much bigger problem then the local media puts on. I skimmed through the rest of the headlines. The football team has a top recruit from Texas. “Wow.” “I can’t believe we stole him from the South Conference. “ Some Old guy caught a New State Record Carp at the Base Lake. These headlines were all pretty typical for a Sunday Edition. I finished my toast and gulped down my coffee. With a turn of the page it all came rushing back. There he was again. Haunting me. Making my stomach churn. Good Ol’ Paulie Picaso. His fat face plastered on the Backpage. There was a small blurb about Paulie and the infamous diner shooting. Apparently the Police force didn’t give up just yet. Officer Petroski was quoted in the article. Of course he was. “A few Informants finally decided to come forward and are cooperating with us.” Petroski said. “We thought we were going to put this one on the back burner but we are lucky.” “Unfortunately there will be some folks that will not be as happy as we are to bring this case back into the lime light.” You could just see Petroski’s shit eating grin and hear the sarcasm. After reading this I felt like I was about to puke. Faith stared at me. “Dax, what is it?” I looked at the picture of Paulie Walnuts. “Nothing Faith, just another shooting in North City.” Faith groaned. “That’s too bad.”

         I got up from the table and through the newspaper in the trash. I gave Faith a kiss good bye and out the door I went. I got into my car and slowly backed out of the drive. I was halfway out of the driveway when a black 4 door sedan blocked my exit. The vehicle pulled right behind me blocking me in. My heart dropped and my balls rose to my throat. This is it. All my nightmares are becoming reality. I’m going to be shot. Right here in my driveway. Two behind the ear. Quick and easy. Then the guy just gets back in his car and drives away unnoticed. My head falls on the horn. The neighbors wait a minute or two and then come out to see what all the commotion is about. 

         I looked through rear view mirror and see a man approaching. What do I do? Stay calm. No one will shoot you here? Right? I roll down my window the man approaches the drivers side. The man is young. Maybe in his twenties. I try to get a real good look just in case. Scanning everything about him. Approximate height, weight, clothes, does he have an accent, scars on his face, etc, etc. All the the stuff they teach you on the detective shows. I was shaking like a leaf. “Morning Mr. Denton.” The man says. “Do I know you?” I ask. “Nope.” “Be at Carmelo’s Deli at 8pm sharp.” I tried to play stupid. “Excuse me…. I don’t even know you…..” WHat are you talking about?” “Just be there, it is for your own good.” The man casually walked back to his car and drove away. I sat in my vehicle scared, motionless, and worried.

         I was absolutely useless at work. I couldn’t do anything but worry about the strange man that visited me at my house earlier in the day. Paperwork began to pile up on my desk. My daily duties as Owner/Manager were not getting done. The staff luckily stepped it up and picked up the slack. I was so lucky to have all of this. The Diner meant everything to me. I was so blessed to have a beautiful wife and great family. I couldn’t believe that I may not ever see any of my family and friends ever again. I sat in the diner’s office and cried. I was sure that after 8pm tonight I wouldn’t be sleeping in my own bed I would definitely be “Sleeping with the Fishes.”  I stared at the clock for what seemed like hours. Every minute seemed like an eternity. I stopped worrying and feeling sorry for myself and fell asleep while sitting at my desk. When I woke up I rubbed my eyes and squinted at the clock on the wall. 7:53pm. Oh my god. I had seven minutes to make it to Carmelo’s Deli and it was at least 15 minutes away. I didn’t hesitate or even think about not going. I jumped out of my chair and rushed out of the diner. I ran to my car and flew across town pulling into Carmelo’s Deli at approximately 8:15pm. I ran every street light in the city. I nearly killed a number of motorists while driving like a bat out of hell through town. I decided that I didn’t have anything to worry about.  I noticed that all of the lights at the Deli were off and the Closed sign was turned around the front door. I took a deep breath. A huge sigh of relief. Maybe their invitation was some sort of scare tactic.

         I looked around the parking lot to verify there weren’t any cars on the side lot. No vehicles. Carmelo’s was in a rough section of town. Low income, neglected by the city and its residents. Trash was strewn about. Random papers and plastic sacks covered the chain fences through out the neighbor hood. As I scanned the lot. A stray dog was the only thing in sight. The dog was mangy. The hound sniffed through garbage piled near a dumpster in Carmelo’s side lot. I sat in my vehicle and watched the stray dog rummage through the deli’s day old breads and other leftovers. I started my car and turned on the headlights. The dog spooked and darted down the street. A vehicle coming down the street towards Carmelo’s swerved to avoid the dog and pulled into Carmelo’s. The coast was not clear. The black Escalade parked right next to my vehicle. Two men quickly jumped out. It was the young kid who ordered me to be at the deli earlier in the day. The second man was older maybe in his 60’s. The older man ordered the kid to get in my back seat. The older man who was definitely in charge opened my door and sat in the passenger seat. Both men slammed the doors. I was scared to death. I was trying not to cry. I truly thought I was going to die. The man in the back seat was probably going to choke me with piano wire. The older man was going to put me out of misery with a bullet to the temple.

         I must have reeked of fear. The wise guys were dressed to the nines. Their suits were covered in pea coats. The old man spoke first.  “Listen Dax.” “Let’s cut the shit.” “Calm down.” “We aren’t going to whack you.” The youngster in the back was pissed.  “What the fuck.” “Why not Boss!?” “Let’s end this tonight.” The kid shouted. The old man pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and put it behind his ear. “Jimmy, Shut up.” The boss barked. I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t look at either of them I stared straight ahead, both hands on the steering wheel. The old man seemed charming and polite. “Dax, Do you know who I am? He asked. “No.“ I answered. I watched Jimmy fidget in the rearview mirror.  I was waiting for a fist upside the head from him. He stared right back as we made eye contact in the mirror. The old man seemed somewhat shocked that I was unaware of who he was. “Really?” He questioned. “My name is Franky Graziano.”

         It was nice to be able to put a face with a name. Franky Graziano was the most notorious crime boss of the new era. He wasn’t John Gotti. He was more of a real life Tony Soprano. The mob was different now. Times have changed. It didn’t matter who he was. He was still a man that I didn’t want to have anything to do with. Here he was sitting in my car with some crazy hooligan waiting to pounce on my head. Franky was a man that you immediately respected. He just had that look Very dapper and smelled like a million bucks He was obviously Italian. He had dark black hair that was perfectly styled. He was the type of guy that probably had two combs in his suit jacket. He was the guy that was always checking his looks in the mirror. I can hear him now, “Hey, watch the hair.“ He had the stereo typical Italian nose. His big brown eyes burned holes right through me. “Dax my friend, you seem like a good kid.” Jimmy back here is stupid. He would love to rough you up right now. We don’t want to do that.” Hey boss speak for yourself.” Jimmy spat. Franky’s attention quickly went to the back seat. “Jimmy, if you say another fucking word, I swear to god!” Franky’s charm quickly turned. “Jimmy, get the fuck out of the car!” Jimmy hesitated. Jimmy sighed and reluctantly got out of the car. I was relieved. “Sorry.” Franky said. I couldn’t believe this guy was apologizing to me. “Dax, I know you saw my guys take out Paulie.” I just want to make sure you are keeping your mouth shut.” “You love your diner, right? He asked. My voice trembled. Of course I do Mr. Graziano.” Franky questioned me again.” “You love Faith too. “Don’t you? Again I responded. “Of course I do Mr. Graziano.” “I know you do son.” Franky stared out passenger window. He rolled the window down halfway and lit his cigarette. Franky offered me a smoke. “Smoke?” I gladly took the cigarette and lit it. I took deep drags of the cigarette. It was menthol. Not my favorite. There I sat smoking a cigarette with a mafia boss. I wanted to talk but I didn’t know what to say. We smoked our cigarettes with out a word. “Dax, I know you talked to that asshole detective Petroski.” I know you didn’t say anything. “How do you know? I asked. “If you would have run your mouth Dax, I wouldn’t be here right now.” I like that Dax.” You’re not a rat.” I respect that.” Franky smiled at me. “Let’s just keep it that way.” Don’t open your mouth. Ok Dax? “Yes sir. I said. Franky began laugh. “Dax I have eyes and ears everywhere.” I know you didn’t talk when you were questioned by the police. I have people everywhere. As long as you keep your mouth shut you, your diner, your pretty wife, and your family will be just fine. I know you don’t want to deal with this bull shit just as much as I don’t want to. Just keep working at your diner. Just forget about this. Pretend none of this ever happened. If everything works out maybe I can use you sometime. Your Diner could come in handy for my guys. We’ll see ya around.“ Have a good night Dax.”

         Franky patted my shoulder and got out of the car. He climbed into the black Escalade and they drove away. I couldn’t believe it. I oddly enough felt relieved. I felt pretty good. It was like my step dad lecturing me growing up. It started out all scary and upsetting. Maybe shed a tear or two and in the end it was ok. Moving on. That was it. I think this was all over. I was going to mind my own business just like nothing happened. I drove home laughing the entire way. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to tell people what happened. I wanted to brag that I smoked a cig with Franky Graziano. I felt like we were buddies. What a crazy night!
         

         I knew I shouldn’t underestimate Franky Graziano. I still knew that he was capable of having me killed anytime, anywhere, and anyplace. He would have killed me if he thought for two seconds that I may have told Petroski or anybody anything.  It was just the way he carried himself. I was always fascinated by the mafia. The movies made their lifestyles so glamorous.  Ray Liotta in Goodfellas. He lived the life until the end of course. What guy wouldn’t want a life like that? Getting tables at the best restaurants without a tab. Going through the back door at the best clubs. Blowing coke at your table with no worries. A home with a normal life with a wife and kids. An apartment on the side with a hot girlfriend. Fancy cars and the best clothes. Youngsters to run your errands. A social club to drink and bullshit with the boys. If you needed anything…I mean anything you just made a phone call. For several days after Franky and my meeting I couldn’t stop fantasizing about the mob life. I went from being completely terrified after the shooting to wanting to give Franky a call. I was really contemplating his offer of allowing his crew to use my diner. What could it hurt? I didn’t rat on them. If I scratch their back they will scratch mine.

         Several weeks had passed. No word from the cops or the Wiseguys. I had made up my mind. I was going to track down Franky. I was going to let him know he could use my diner. Each day after work I began driving through the rumored mob areas, trying to find Franky or one of his errand boys.  I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing, I don’t even know what I would do if I came across any of the errand boys. What would I even say to them, “Hey are you in the mafia?” If I said that I would end up getting stabbed in the throat.
         Well it didn’t take long, word on the street travels fast. People in Franky’s neighborhood keep a watchful eye; they must have known I was in the neighborhood looking for him.  The next morning at work the first customers were Franky and his boys.  They greeted me like I was one of them, it felt good. “Hey Dax how are you doing?” Frank gave me a big slap on the back.  They all sat down at the big family table in the corner of the diner.  “What can I get you this morning,” I asked.  “Maybe just a couple cups of coffee, we need to get down to business,” Franky said.
         Franky pulled an empty chair next his, “Come on Dax have a seat.” I sat down, I felt nervous I wasn’t sure of what to think. I poured coffee into Franky’s cup and sat down. Sweat began to drip from my forehead.