You Owe Me

       “Come here, Jimmy! I just want to talk to ya!” Carmine “Big C” Lucchese hollered in his Bronx accent. It sounded more like I wanna twalk ta ya!

             “Big C! I swear I didn’t steal from nobody,” James “Jimmy Ugatz” Carbone called over his shoulder in an equally thick accent. He started running.

             “You dirty little-,” Carmine grunted through gritting teeth as he began running after the little punk. He was wearing a pressed Italian suit with dress shoes- he wasn’t expecting to have to run today.

             Jimmy Ugatz sprinted down the crowded sidewalks, dodging the other pedestrians and produce carts expertly. A rushing running back making a dash to the endzone with Big C Lucchese a boulder of a defensive lineman barreling through the thick crowds. Thank god Carmine Lucchese was not a skinny man.

             Carmine huffed after the skinnier man, breathing already growing to be a tough chore. Just this morning, the old Gangster had caught his own reflection and thought how he’d let himself go… well “let himself go” was an understatement. The man was huge.

             Still, Carmine pushed on. No one disrespected him by stealing twenty thousand dollars and got away with it. If Jimmy had been smart, he’d have left town. But that’s why Jimmy earned the nickname ugatz- it meant nothing, which is exactly what Jimmy Carbone had in his head.

             “Carmine, please,” Jimmy pleaded between tough panting as he ran, “can’t we just talk about this?”

             “Yuh-,” a deep, strained inhale, “You didn’t wanna talk when you stole from my crew!” The words came out coarse and out of breath.

             “Carmine, I didn’t know they was your guys,” Jimmy hollered back, his vision had gone blurry from the running. I’ve got to quit smoking. “I swear on my mother, Carmine.”

             Big C didn’t reply. Partly because he didn’t want to draw more attention to himself than he already was and partly to save breath. Jimmy turned a corner, the echo of his soles pounding the damp floor coming off the walls of the little alley. Slap slap slap.

             Piles of garbage spread out into the center of the alley. Overturned garbage cans laying in a mess of old food and stained containers, past the refuse the black outline of a running man was approaching a tall fence. The thieving jerkoff won’t come out of this alive Carmine thought to himself. A great happiness came over him to finally be over with this chase. Though it had only been about a quarter of a mile, Carmine felt like he was coming to the end of a marathon.

             Carmine slowed down to a brisk walk, pulling a monogramed hanky out of his breast pocket and dabbing the sweat off his forehead. “Come on, kid, game’s over. Listen, you’re a good guy, but you gotta be punished,” the big man said, his throat still dry. Vomit threatened to explode out his mouth any second, spilling a hefty lunch of fried zucchini and veal onto his shoes and pants. This kid was going to pay back what he stole, then pay off the debt of making Carmine run.

             Jimmy stood at the fence, trying to catch his breath. Though he was thin, he was nowhere near in good shape. Smoking at least two packs a day and polishing half a bottle of bourbon had ensured that. Oh god! Oh god! Oh god! Was all that flashed through Jimmy’s panicked mind. At least it took his thought away from the painful stitch in his side.

             Jimmy saw Carmine put his soaked handkerchief away and reach for something else. He’s going to kill me! Alarms blared in Jimmy’s head. All he had wanted to do was rise the ranks and get his button, just like Carmine, Jackie Blue Eyes, Paulie The Boss, and all those other guys had done. Jimmy felt his heart pumping into his throat. Why’d he have to rob a truck that was on one of the Capo’s payroll?

             Carmine started pulling something from behind his gray sportscoat. Jimmy’s breath caught for a slight moment. Without thinking, he had vaulted the fence with the ease of a feral cat running from a junkyard dog. He landed firmly on the ground and took off again. Carmine was screaming swears behind him. The man wouldn’t risk trying to shoot a moving target with the threat of hitting a civilian. Jimmy had bought himself a few seconds at least.

             Carmine gave one attempt at vaulting the fence. He hadn’t gotten far and one attempt was enough to tell that he wouldn’t make it for anything in the world. The bulbous man looked around, trying to think of what to do. He couldn’t fire his gun at Jimmy, it might clip a random person, and that would mean the whole city coming down on him. The metal was rusted deeply where it met the buildings.

             Still painting heavily with dark circles in his vision, Carmine hefted his foot back and kicked as hard as he could. The weak part of the fence broke, sending a cloud of reddish-brown rust particles spraying. Carmine swore loudly, a piece of broken metal had pierced his flesh and tore a jagged scrape along the outside of his left shin. Dark blood immediately rushed into Carmine’s socks and puddled at the floor. With a deep breath and another swear, Carmine resumed his chase of Jimmy Ugatz.

             Come on, Lucchese! A gruff voice spoke inside Carmine’s head. You always were lazy. Never had heart, just relied on talent to get you through. Now look, can’t even recover your livelihood! The growling voice was familiar. A tone Carmine had spent four years enduring. It was his old football coach, Coach Dormer. The man had done his damnedest to captivate the potential he saw in Lucchese, but the cocky defensive end had never listened. Maye if he had, the chase would have been over by now.

             Carmine paused and took a breath. It was like trying to breath through one of those tiny straws that are meant to stir coffee. Wheezing squeaks whistled from Carmine’s throat every time he inhaled or exhaled. He’d lost sight of Jimmy Ugatz.

             Looking through blurred vision with darkness encroaching quickly over the light, Carmine scanned the busy street walk. Nothing. Bored looking citizens walking slowly around each other, no one paying attention to the sweating bear around them. They just walked by like it was an everyday sight.

             “Hey! Watch it, punk!” a man screamed. Carmine’s eyes darted to the direction of the yell. A red-faced businessman was still looking angrily at a slim figure in black leather jacket scurrying away. Ugatz! Carmine picked his speed up, letting a mess of lunch spray from his mouth onto a vehicle waiting in traffic.

             A woman screamed an obscenity, but Carmine didn’t hear, he was gaining on Jimmy.

             Jimmy looked back, Carmine was getting close enough to start worrying about. The big man just kept huffing along like the Little Engine that Could- well, Not-So-Little Engine that Could. Jimmy closed his eyes and swore, trying to ignore the pain in his sides or the fact that his legs were beginning to feel more like rubber with each speeding step. He didn’t notice the parking meter coming up in ten feet.

             CLANG!

             The metal pole made a sound vibrating clash as Jimmy’s knee connected with it. Several people paused their commute for a second to look at what had made the sound, but resumed their attention to themselves after seeing the sweaty man puffing heavily as he sprawled out on the grimy concrete.

             Tears mixed with sweat burned in Jimmy’s eyes. His right knee felt like someone had placed a warm ball of heat between the bones. He tried to yell in pain, but only an exhausted groan came out of his dry mouth, at some point in the fleeting moment, he’d thrown up on himself.

             Carmine smiled grimly. The deer had finally slipped, and it was time for the wolf to eat. He slowed down his pace to a limping walk. Knees aching from carrying all that weight for so long at a run, pain from the feet to the middle of the shins from running in flat-bottomed dress shoes, and a throbbing beat in the head every time his heart pushed blood throughout the body. His inner thighs had been charged raw and burned with every stirde. Carmine inhaled, it felt like trying to breathe with a boulder crushing his body.

             “Jesus, sir,” Carmine gasped trying to call attention away from the incident, “you gotta watch yourself.”

             “He… he… help!” Jimmy tried to scream through the pain and hard breathing. His vision was spinning and the knee that collided with the pole was already swelling. Carmine was only five feet away now. The skinny man closed his eyes tight and pushed himself up.

             The movement was slow and painful, but Jimmy found his footing. The swollen knee wouldn’t bend. Jimmy attempted a brisk limp away.

             “Jimmy… Jimmy, just stop,” Carmine almost begged. There was no way the Gangster would be able to run another ten feet. He hobbled after the kid. Why won’t he just give up? He thought to himself.

             From the outside, the two were a comical sight. A limping greaser trying to flee what looked more like an overweight Gumby than a man of power at this point. A yellow taxi was waiting on the side of the street. Jimmy had finally found his escape, but he needed to act quicker. A man was just getting off work and headed directly to the same cab.

             “Taxi!” Jimmy huffed out, arm raised. He used the last of his strength to increase his speed. The businessman ahead of him closing in quickly and the gangster behind him filling the gap just as quick. Jimmy strained his arm as far in front of him as it would go, cold metal finally entered his grasp. The businessman gave a mean look before heading to find another ride as Jimmy opened the door hurriedly.

             “Jimmy, wait,” a hoarse voice spoke behind. There was no anger left in the tone, just fatigue. Jimmy slammed the door shut and told the man to step on it.

             The taxi ran off, wheels squeaking against the road as it sped off. Carmine hissed a swear before finding a stoop in front of one of the nearby buildings to throw himself down on. Alright kid, you beat me, but you still owe me.