I’m paying my way through college with the poker money I make from my dorm-mate. I hate his guts and not merely because he is filthy rich, but because he doesn’t know the value of money. He scatters it like seeds, instead of putting it to good use. Rodriguez is the son of a mob boss, whereas, I am the son of a poor Brooklyn taxi driver. Every penny I con out of him, I deserve.
I smiled big and laid down my five cards. “Read ‘em and weap. Royal flush.”
Rodriguez laid down his hand. “Y’a know Vinney, I really thought I had you with my twin aces over threes.”
I raked in the hundred or so dollars I just made. I’m not going to count it now. “It’s getting cold in here. Can we close the porch doors?”
Rodriguez shook his head and pinched his face. “I hate feeling stuffy and claustrophobic. I never close those sliding doors.”
It was then that I began to hatch a plan that would affect the rest of my life. A couple of hundred profit per game-night was adequate, but I knew he kept a lot of cash in his bedroom. Every time he needed more money, he would go in there and I would hear the high-pitched barking of his Chihuahua. He’d come back out, hopeful-faced, with crisp bills in hand, ready for another round as a sucker.
Tonight, though, I felt tired. “It’s getting late.”
“That’s cool.” Rodriguez stretched out his arms, unkinking his tall frame.
“How’s about we continue dis tomorrow night?” I said, standing up.
“What’s tomorrow?” He picked up his calendar. “Oh, right, Saturday. I’ve got something.”
“Yeah?”
“Sigma Tau is welcoming our sister sorority for a special fall formal.”
“You got a date?”
“Pre-arranged. It’s cool though, she’s hot.”
“Nice. Have fun.” I left and headed downstairs and down the hall to my room. It was nice living off-campus and alone. You could get away with a lot more mischief.
Behind the dorm, Rodriguez’s third floor balcony loomed high. The air was chilly and I hugged myself. My all-black clothing wasn’t enough to keep me warm. My grappling hook, attached to a climbing rope, was half buried in yellow leaves. I swung a test and missed, slamming the base of the tri-hook into my baby-making manhood. Any harder and I would have been rolling around on the ground in pain. When I swung it again, it didn’t catch. Instead, it smashed down onto my left foot. If not for my sturdy shoes, it might have broken a bone. And if it had it landed with the points down, it would have gone straight through my foot. I tried again, aiming for the balcony railing. It went higher than I planned, snagging a thick plant-hanging hook. It was fairly dark, so I was surprised when a planter basket fell onto my right foot.
When the pain subsided, I yanked on the rope and it seemed sturdy so I began to climb. Halfway up, I looked down and it felt much higher up than I had anticipated. While I was busy looking down, my left foot went through a pane of glass. I pulled out my bloodied ankle and was relieved that the lights remained out and nobody was home.
Reaching to the third floor, I put my weight on the balcony poles and swung my body over and landed harshly on my back. Crawling to my knees, I was grateful that the glass sliding door remained open. Unfortunately, the screen door was locked. My pocketknife sliced through the mesh screen easily. As I slid my hand through to unlock it, the jagged metal slashed my wrist. It didn’t bleed much, though. As soon as I entered the apartment a horrible vice gripped my Excalibur groin, accompanied by snarls. The pain was torrential, yet somehow I remained uncircumcised. I swept my arm at the creature and I heard it land on the couch. I started towards it, but I bashed my shin on the coffee table. I took a deep breath and refocused my priorities.
As I limped towards the bathroom, I was surprised when teeth chomped onto my butt. I grabbed the Chihuahua by the collar and thrust it into the bathroom. I closed the door as it started yapping. The bedroom light was easy to find. In his dresser, I found only clothing and undergarments. On his bedside dresser, I found a nice watch, which I pocketed. Next, I opened his closet and on the floor sat a bread-maker-sized safe. No time to figure out the combination. I’d just bring it along and figure it out later. I carried it to the balcony and tossed it over. Supposedly, the dog was worth a lot so I went back for it. Before I could stuff it into a pillowcase, it bit a chunk of flesh from my palm.
Climbing down, with a dog swung over my back was harder than I had imagined. Just as I was carefully avoiding the broken window, the rope suddenly dropped me down a foot. I looked up in time to observe the hook sliding out of the facia board. Not wanting the grappling hook to impale me, I let go. I covered my face and fell forward quite a distance. A sharp pain shot through my knees upon impact and then an even sharper pain jolted my shoulder as it slammed into the safe.
The dog seemed safe on my back but it barked unhappily. I flipped around to grab it, just as the rope started crumpling on my legs like spaghetti. The grappling hook barely missed the dog, but smashed into my ultimate friend, my pre-wounded schlong.
I don’t know how long I lay there, groaning and panting, but eventually, I found the strength to stand. I lifted up the box and swung the doggie-baggie around to my back. I realized then, it was very wet, and soon my shirt and pants were drenched and smelly.
No one noticed me as I went directly to my bedroom. As I set the safe inside my closet, I heard the mutt yelp and I let go. It scampered out of the pillowcase in abject terror. I chased it to every corner of my apartment, where it left stains and feces. When I finally snagged the filthy mongrel, I tied it with the climbing rope to my toilet.
I was finally able to shower and attend to my lacerations. My body ached in severe pain, but none of my injuries seemed to warrant a trip to the emergency room. I fell asleep on my couch and didn’t flinch until daybreak. I was grateful for a day to rest and to sell the dog. I may not have had class on Sunday, but I still had a few assignments to complete. I dressed and re-bandaged my various gashes.
A knock sounded at my door and I opened it to three surly looking Hispanic men. I panicked and started to close the door, but the lead man shoved the door wide open as if it were cardboard. I fell back on my butt and I realized, at this point, that my tailbone had probably been broken last night.
The wide-chested man in front pointed a glock pistol. “Gringito, gringito, what can we do wit you?”
“Do with me?”
“My boy. You were a busy monkey last night.” He and the others snickered.
“Last night?”
“Your heist was harder than you planned, no?”
“Heist?”
“Don’t deny what you did. That watch you took had GPS, which led us here.” I didn’t say anything so he continued. “The safe and the dog are in your bedroom, I expect?”
“But I…”
“Either we can go to the police. You will go to jail and paying thousands of dollars to lawyers. Once you are in jail, we will make you suffer. Or,” He winked at me, “we can offer you a special proposition.”
“Proposition?”
“We make your problems disappear, but we own you.”
“Own me?”
“Actually, Rodriguez will own you. You will be his personal man-servant until your debt is repaid. You’ll also need to make special deliveries for our organization.”
“Deliveries?”
“Don’t look so upset, this is your lucky day. Working with our gang will someday make you a rich man. The chiquitas are going to flock to you, gringito.”
“But my studies…”
“You don need dat no more. You lucky guy, you got a career now in an area of your interest. You don’ have a clue how to do it, but we will give you one.”
Thus began my career in organized crime.