Vacationing in the Poconos

Officer, my given name is Arturo Barcelli, but I Americanized it to Arthur.  So be sure to use that one.  Arthur Barcelli.  Under occupation put down that I am  a businessman from Woodbury Heights.  Yeah, put that down, businessman.  That is what I do for a living.  Don’t look at me in that tone of voice. I know what you think I am, but you are wrong.  What happened in the past is the past. I’ve done what I can to put distance from me and that summer in 1968 when we went vacationing in the Poconos. You can’t hold that against me.  I had nothing to do with it. Honest, I was only thirteen years old at the time and I only found out all about it after the fact.  If you have some time, I will tell the whole truth.” 

“Where should I start, boys?  I guess I will start at the beginning where all stories start.”

 I grew up in a charming neighborhood in Camden, New Jersey during the 1960s with my parents Don and Celia Barcelli in a two story four bedroom split level home with my two brothers Lance and Vincent.  My father never told me what he did for a living.  My mother wasn’t much help in the matter.  She thought he worked as a dry cleaner.  Go figure.  Uncle Gino, who later I would find was no blood relation of ours, used to come over for dinner sometimes.  He and my father would slip off to his private room to talk business while me and my brothers would watch television.  We all knew when Uncle Gino came over, we’d have spaghetti for dinner.  Ma would make a big pot of it. She made the best spaghetti of anyone in the neighborhood. 

Never once did I question things my father told me was just “family business” and “none of my business.”  My father  never revealed anything he and Uncle Gino talked about behind closed doors.  As I think about it now, I don’t remember hearing Uncle Gino ever saying a single word until after our vacation in the Poconos.  Back then the only thing that I remember paying attention to was Barbara Eden in I Dream of Genie. My two younger brothers, however, were still into Ernie and Bert.  

I clearly remember when my father called home to my mother.  I was on summer break from school.  It was hot and sticky as it always was during the summertime in Camden and I was bored to death.

“Papa called.” Mama informed us as we watched soap operas on the television as we tried to stay cool in the sweltering heat. “He wants to go on vacation.” 

Vacation?  Papa never took time off from business to take us all on vacation.

“Where?” I dared to ask.

“Some place in the hills of Pennsylvania.” She shrugged. “He wants us to pack right away.  He wants to leave when he gets home in an hour.” 

Holy cow, so little time.  Mama got the suitcases from the storage room and gave each of us one suitcase to pack.  It was up to me to help Vincent and Lance since I was the oldest. 

“Artie, make sure you help your brothers.” She said as she left to pack for herself and papa, but I was already helping them pack their Batman underwear. I was excited at the prospect of getting out of Camden and going into the hills of Pennsylvania where I hoped it would be cooler. 

When papa walked into the house, we were all packed waiting for him.  He seemed very irritable like he got when one of us boys messed up.

“Cele, are we ready to go?” He asked, glancing at each of us. 

“We are all packed and ready to go.” She confirmed. 

“Good.  We need to shove off, pronto.” He looked at his watch and rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. “We’re going to take my Lincoln.” 

None of us had ever been inside my papa’s business car. To us, papa’s Lincoln was as big as any of our bedrooms.  We all walked out suitcases out to the open trunk.  Even with five suitcases shoved in the truck, there was room to spare. The three of us boys got into the backseat as mama got into the front passenger’s seat.  Papa left the motor running and he put the car in reverse as soon as he got into the driver’s seat.  Papa spoke Italian to mama so us boys would not understand what they were talking about.

Papa drove to Interstate 95 and drove north to Hackensack where he would get on Interstate 80 west to Lake Harmony.  With the radio blaring rock ‘n’ roll music to keep us quiet, papa kept quiet as he sped down the highway with mama sitting next to him,  holding his hand.  None of us boys had any idea what was going on and even if we did, it would not make any difference to us now, we were on our way to Lake Harmony in the Poconos.  

“I haven’t talked about that vacation for quite some time, officer.  Really.  It would be the summer, I would earn my chops about being a grown up and the truth that everyone was protecting me from. You heard me right, protection was what he was trying to do for us boys, but in the end it all came crashing down on him like a burning building. Excuse me while I light up.  It relaxes me.” 

Lake Harmony was one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen.  Papa drove through the night, so we arrived at our cottage around six in the morning when everything was waking up including us boys. Yawning, I emerged from the car taking a deep breath and drawing in the aroma of the world coming to life in the early morning sun. The water was as clear and smooth as glass.  I could see a few bugs flutter over the water near the cottage.

“We have a boat.” Lance pointed at the rowboat tethered to the dock. 

“Maybe we could take it out on the lake.” Vince tugged at mama’s arm. 

“Maybe.” She smiled down at him. 

“Do we have a television?” I asked.

“No television.” Papa snapped.

“Why not?” I whined.

“We are here, in this beautiful place to enjoy the outdoors.” He shook his head as he would when I brought him a less than satisfactory report card. 

“Can I go wading in the water?” Lance asked, looking up at mama.

“Sure.  I will go with you.” She nodded.

“Can I sit in the boat?” Vince asked.

“Sure, sure.” She bobbed her head. 

With my hands shoved in my pockets, I toddled down with the three of them as papa went into the cottage with his suitcase.  When he reached the door, Uncle Gino was there waiting for him.

“Are you alright?” He asked.  I had never heard such a deep voice.

“I’ll be fine.  As soon as this all blows over, we will go back.” I could hear papa respond.

“If this blows over.” Uncle Gino shook his head as both of them went inside. 

The water had a green tint.  I put my unshod foot in the cool water.  Tiny fish swam away when I put my foot into the soft sand under the water.  Vince pretended he was a pirate shouting words like, “Avast, matie” and “Ahoy, cap’n.” 

Mama had Lance by his hand as he walked into the water near me. He squealed with delight when his toes sank into the sand.  

“This place is beautiful, yes?” Mama asked me.

“Yes, it’s wonderful.” I shrugged.

“What is the matter?” She bent over to look me in the eye.

“I dunno.  Uncle Gino is here.” I said as if I had to pull the words out from down below.

“Yes, I know.” She nodded.

“Why are we here?” I managed to ask.  

“Your papa wanted to come.” She watched as Lance tossed a stone into the water.

“What is here that he wants?” 

“I don’t know, dear.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Does it matter?  This place is better than home where it is so hot.” 

“I guess.” I shrugged as I kicked the water.

Papa and Uncle Gino sat in Adirondacks chairs and drank some of Uncle Gino’s homemade wine. Both of them were speaking in Italian so we would not eavesdrop in on their private conversation. Sitting on the shore near the dock where Vince was still playing pirates, I watched them.  Even though I could not understand a single word either of them said, I could tell something was up by their faces.  Both of them appeared to have very grave expressions as they spoke in their native language.  When I glanced at mama, who could understand what they were saying, I could tell she was deeply disturbed by their conversation.  Granted I was only thirteen years old and just beginning to understand some of the subtleties of the adult world. 

It was later that same day when I learned my first lesson.  I saw Uncle Gino approach the cottage with a couple of other men all dressed in three piece pinstripe suits.  Then I heard my mama scream. I ran through a cloud of fireflies to get to the door.  When I got there Uncle Gino and the two other men were gone.

“Your papa is dead.” She sobbed. I heard a car pull out of the driveway.  It would be the last time I would see Uncle Gino until the other day.

“What happened?” I asked hoping that she was mistaken, but with eyes wet with tears, she told me what had happened.  Even as she told me, I knew what she said was not the truth. The very notion of my father falling overboard and drowning seemed unlikely.  

“We must go, Artie.” She sat on the couch dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

At the time, I did not want to leave.  Our vacation at Lake Harmony had become a celebration and a much needed break.  

With a heavy heart, I put the suitcases in the trunk of my late father’s car.  There were birds chirping in the pine trees and I could see ripples where the fish had come up to snatch flies daring to fly close to the surface of the lake. Tied to the dock, the boat we never got to ride in, bobbed in the waves.  

As I got into the car, I felt as if someone had robbed me of all of this.  Lance and Vincent’s eyes were still full of sleep as they got into the backseat of the car. Mama’s eyes were red from crying. 

“Oh Donnie.” I heard her sigh as she made the sign of the cross with her rosary in her hand.  I got the rare privilege to sit in the front seat next to my mama. Her fingers moved along the beads of her rosary as we pulled out of the driveway.

A few days before I would go to St. Lucy’s High School, the police came to the door asking for mama.  Mama told us boys to go to our rooms and close our doors.

“Your father was a hitman.” Owen Martz cornered me in the boys’ room at school. 

“Was not.” I had no idea what a hitman was, but I suspected it was not a good thing.

“Was to.” He sneered with Bruce Wallace and Dexter Butterfield standing menacingly behind him. “He hit Don Franco Carrelli while he was swimming laps in his pool.” 

“What are you talking about?” I could feel the sweat running down the back of my collar.  

“He worked for the mob as a hitman.” He held out his finger like a gun.  He put his finger on my forehead and acted as if he pulled the trigger. 

While we were doing our homework as mama prepared dinner, I asked, “Mama, what is a hitman.” 

It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room. She stopped and glared at me like only a mother can do.

“Who told you that?” She said through her clenched teeth. 

“Some of the guys at school.” I answered. “They said papa was a hitman.” 

I never saw the slap she delivered to my right cheek, but I felt the stinging of her open palm against my skin.

“Your papa was a good man.” Her voice was a low growl as she spoke. I knew in that instant that Owen was correct in our encounter earlier in the day, but I did not say a word, because I knew she would strike me again if I said anything.  Lance and Vincent stared at me as mama continued to prepare dinner as if nothing had happened.  Neither one of them dared speak fearing the same retribution from mama if they did.  

Father Becker, the principal, was in his office when I came in the next day.  He made it a habit to know the names of all of his students by name even though it was still early in the school year.  “What can I do for you, Artie Barcelli?”

“Father, I wonder if you know what a hitman is?” I sat in the chair he offered to me.  The welcoming smile on his face disappeared as he closed his office door.

“I do.” His voice became deep and somber. “My brother turned away from Jesus and works for the Carrelli family.  The Carrellis run the mob here in Camden.”

“I have been told my papa was a hitman.” I confessed.

“Was?” 

“He was killed when we were vacationing in the Poconos.” I hesitated before telling him this.

“I see.” I could see that this conversation made him uncomfortable. He ran his finger around his collar. 

“The police came a few days ago to tell mama they had found him at the bottom of Lake Harmony.” I squirmed as if the chair I was sitting on was being set on fire and I began to wish I had not asked Father Becker what a hitman was.

“Since then officer, I have done extensive research into the matter. It seems that some men are destined to repeat the sins of their fathers.  When I saw Gino Genovese a few weeks ago, I was overjoyed, because you see, he was the thug who hit my papa.”

“As it turned out, after papa hit Mr. Carrelli, Franco’s family hired Uncle Gino Genovese to carry out the hit on papa while we were vacationing at the lake. Even after I found out the truth, I did not plan to become involved with this. But once I found Gino out walking around after having done this during one of the happiest memories of my childhood, I could not turn my back on the opportunity. He had retired, so he wasn’t as careful as he was during his days with the mob.  He did not recognize me either, so I was able to tail him until I was ready for action.  I bought a Glock and some ammunition at this pawn shop in Camden.  It was easy to conceal that gun in my coat pocket.  As it turned out, I saw him while he was on his way to a friend’s house.  I could not believe how easy it was.  As soon as he saw me, he smiled and held out his hands.  I pulled out my Glock and fired it until he began to dance like an out of control marionette.  I left no doubt. You see, I am not a professional like my father was, so I wanted to make sure I had done it right.  His eyes were open when I walked up to him bleeding and lying on the sidewalk.  He was still alive after all that, but I knew he was not long for this world.  I put in the other magazine and fired a single bullet into his forehead at point blank range.  That put an end to it. I threw the gun into the river and skipped out to find Lake Harmony.  I didn’t get very far, did I?  I didn’t even get out of New Jersey before I got stopped. ”

“Funny, when you’re a kid, you think you have things figured out, but everywhere you look, you see what they want you to see.  You begin to believe all the crap they’ve been feeding you.”

“Last year, mama passed away after a long battle with cancer.  Once she was gone, I began my search for Gino Genovese.  I did not want her to know what I had done.  I did not want her to think that I was just like my old man.”

“And the real kicker is that both of my brothers, Lance and Vincent, became cops in Newark. 

“Me?  I was a for-hire delivery man.  Yeah, go figure.  Up until I pulled that trigger, my record was squeaky clean.  You’da had nothing on me.  Nothing.”