Vinny's Deal

by Vincent Corvino


He said, "I saw your sign out front and I've got something maybe you're interested in." The sign was MARIO GIANGRANDE, MECHANIC, AUTO BODY SPECIALIST. I'd been laid off earlier that month and had hand-painted the sign and put it up on the front lawn, hoping for some local business. This was nothing new. I'd been let go before and had always managed, just managed, to pay the bills this way. So I asked him, "Where's the car?" But he said, "There is no car." He said, "This is different." He said, "Can we talk?" He was a regular guy in a Yankees windbreaker. It didn't seem like anything, so I let him in.

We sat in the living room. I could see he wanted to get right down to it, so I didn't offer him anything. He said, "I do business with a guy around the corner on Morris Park Avenue. A chop shop. Dom's Auto. You know the place?"

I said, "Sure."

He said, "You didn't hear it from me, but that guy Dom's an ungrateful prick."

I couldn't tell where this was going, so I just listened.

"I work at my uncle's service station out on the Island. I order and deliver parts. Sometimes when a customer comes in and his car's nothing but problems, we recommend an insurance job. I take the car to Dom, he makes it disappear."

I nodded. I understood, now. "And where do I come in?"

"Good question. That's a good question. I can already tell you're gonna be good at this, Mario."

"At what?"

"I'm getting there. You gotta hear the rest first. We've increased Dom's business twenty percent over the past six months and you'd think he'd lower his price with us. I'm looking to edge him out. You want the job?"

We sat in the living room. I could see he wanted to get right down to it, so I didn't offer him anything.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." I looked down at my hands and he picked up on this and said, "I can give you time to think it over. I can come back."

I said, "Okay," and saw him to the door. "By the way," I said, "what's your name?"

He said, "Vinny." He said, "I'll come back."

My girl, Doreen, was cleaning offices, nights, and when she got home I told her the news. She was quiet for a few seconds. Then she threw her arms around me. So when Vinny came back, I took him up on his deal.

That week, I chopped three cars and Friday found an envelope in my mailbox. Me and Doreen took that envelope to the mall. She pointed at things and I fed her money right out of that envelope. We bought two standing lamps and a ceiling fan at a place called You Light Up My Life. Doreen got a facial and something called an aromatherapy massage at Adam and Eve. She came out looking flimsy. But she found the energy to shop some more. We bought an oriental rug and a bed for our dog, Caesar. We replaced my whole record collection with CD's. Then we went to Charlie O's and had ourselves a real dinner of martinis and prime rib. When we got home, she looked at me in this certain way and said, "Mario. . ." It'd been a long time.

The next day, she quit her job. She said, "I went straight up to the super and told him where to stick his mop."

I said, "No. . ."

She said, "Not only that, but I stuffed big wads of paper towel down the toilets." Then she laughed. But I thought it was kind of crazy.

She said, "You're not mad at me."

"No. . ."

"Good," she said. "Lets go shopping."

Soon, everything we owned had been replaced with something newer and better. I started to see more cars, more money. More. In bed, Doreen would slip her hand under my T-shirt and say, "My man."

One afternoon, we were watching "The Price is Right" on our new entertainment center, when the doorbell rang. Doreen aimed the remote at the TV and hit mute. We turned and looked at each other. We weren't expecting anybody. Vinny only brought cars on Tuesdays and Thursdays -- I didn't know why -- and the only person ringing my bell besides him was the Con Ed guy wanting to read the meter. And he'd been around just the other day.

There was a knock. Me and Doreen slid down on the new sofa. She whispered, "What should we do?"

"Wait," I said. "Wait until they either go away or say who they are."

"What if it's. . .I mean, what if it's about. . ."

"I told you me and Vinny've got our stories straight. There's nothing to worry about."

"Then why're we hiding? If there's nothing wrong, why ---"

"Doreen. . ."

"Okay, hon, okay."

There were two more knocks and then a voice said, "C'mon people."

Doreen hid her head between her knees.

I yelled, "Give me a minute, I'm naked." I wanted to buy some time, put my thoughts together. I dropped my hand on Doreen's. "Don't worry," I said.

I opened the door on two men. One was big and had the kind of complexion that looked like rashes. The other was short and Hispanic and had a tattoo on his forearm and a big silver watch with lots of gadgets. He kept his lips tight and his thumbs tucked behind his belt buckle. He let the big one talk.

The big one said, "We'd like to have a word with you."

I thought of saying, "Got a warrant?" but figured it would only make them mad. So I said, "Sure" and let them in.

We stood in the middle of the room, both men looking at Doreen. She was squeezed into her corner of the sofa and hugging one of the big silk throw-pillows that had come with the sofa. I said, "This is Doreen."

The little one said, "Afternoon ma'am. Officer Cruz."

"Sheriff Capo." The big one seemed grumpy, like he was on a bad stomach. He made me nervous. He had big hands and kept throwing his eyes at Doreen.

I said, "Coffee?"

Cruz said, "That'd be good."

I slipped into the kitchen and panicked. I made fists and wrapped myself in the head. I pulled my hair. I chewed the flesh around my nails. I got it all out of my system. Then I took a deep breath and put the coffee up.

I handed each man a mug and sat down next to Doreen.

Capo leaned forward and put his mug on the new glass table. He looked uncomfortable in our new Eazychair. He was the type of big man no furniture could hold. "Mr. Giangrande," he said, "a guy in the neighborhood reported his car stolen last week. A silver Oldsmobile. He said he was driving down your block with his cousin the other day, when he noticed you dragging a hood into your garage. He swears it was a silver Oldsmobile hood. He thinks it's his."

I looked around at Capo and said, "I wouldn't be surprised if that was the guy's hood."

Capo and Cruz glanced at each other. Capo said, "You realize we're talking about grand theft auto, here."

"I didn't steal anything."

"Well, then, how d'you explain the hood?"

"I can't."

"You have to tell us something," Cruz said. "Otherwise, we've got no choice."

Doreen squeezed my hand.

I said, "It's just I don't know much about it. Last week, this guy rings my bell, says his car's shot, but he doesn't wanna junk it. He says he'll make more selling the parts separately. He was right, there. You know junkyards. After they get you for towing, you're lucky if you see ten bucks. Anyway, this guy sees my sign out front. You saw the sign, right?" Capo nodded. "Well, this guy sees my sign and leaves me his car."

"What, exactly, did this guy want you to do?"

"Take the car apart."

Cruz said, "We call that stripping."

"I don't know," I said. "I think you call it stripping if someone does it to a parked or abandoned car without the owner's consent. This guy paid me to do it."

"This guy. . ." Capo puffed. "You keep saying 'this guy.'" Capo was talking with his hands, now. "You don't have a name?"

"Ramirez. Jose Ramirez." The name Vinny'd said to use.

Cruz got out a pad and scribbled it down.

Capo said, "What does this Ramirez look like?"

I could've said, "A lot like Officer Cruz." But I said, "Kind of short, kind of dark. Kinky hair. . .oh, here's something." I wagged my finger at them. "He had a scar. A small one up by his eye." Vinny'd come up with that the same day he'd brought the Oldsmobile. He'd pointed at it from my stoop and said, "There's extra money in it for you on this one." Then he'd explained. Then we'd put the story together, in case anything.

"You remember which eye?" Capo squinted at me.

I threw my hands up. "You hardly pay attention to things like that... more coffee?"

Capo said, "We're fine," and stood and Cruz took it as a sign that he should stand, too. "You have any witnesses, can back up your story? I mean, besides the lady here?"

"Vinny Manginelli. He works with me. Sometimes he stays with his cousin up the block. 213."

Cruz jammed the pad into his back pocket and started for the door. He waited there with his back to it, Capo still facing us, about to tell us something. "We're gonna check on your story, Mr. Giangrande. If everything turns out okay, you've got nothing to worry about." He winked at Doreen. "We'll be seeing you again, either way."

I shut the door behind Capo and Cruz, then rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the new phone. I tried Vinny at his cousin's a few times, left messages. Then I called his place on the Island. The message I left there said, "We've got a little trouble." He called back not long after that one. I told him all about what'd just happened. He said, "Really?. . .Oh. . .no kidding. . .well, they're not gonna find me around until Monday. I already made plans to stay out here for the weekend, see some friends." I couldn't believe how calm he was. He said, "Matter of fact, why don't you come out for the weekend? You can relax, think things out with no extra pressures." I figured if Vinny thought this was the best thing, it probably was.

He was waiting on the platform when my train pulled in. I'd left Doreen the new car. She was driving up to her parents' place for the weekend. I looked at Vinny through the tinted window. He couldn't see me and was watching the people pour through the doors. I could've been one of those people, if I'd rushed it and gotten my bag down from the overhead, two stops before. I was taking my time, trying to relax like Vinny'd said I should. It isn't easy when things get shaky.

But one thing was for sure. Vinny looked like a different person. He had on a black silk shirt and designer sunglasses. The shirt fit him good and loose, so that it filled with air when the wind blew. I thought, "If this trouble blows over, I'll get me a shirt like that." And then I worried. What if Vinny was taking me somewhere nice? I was in old Levis and a Yankees sweatshirt.

I stepped off the train and Vinny came over and hugged me. I didn't expect that. Then he stepped back, looked me over. "Mario. . ." he said, like I was the only person in the world who mattered to him, "how're you feeling?"

I said, "I'm nervous. I've never been so nervous." Something about that hug made me honest.

"That's no good," he said. He took my bag. He said, "Let's get a drink."

We went south on Sunrise Highway in a '96 Cadillac Fleetwood, all the options. I said, "It's better than a living room in here. But where's your other car?" He'd been in a black IROC the day he'd come to cut our deal.

He said, "I don't drive that out here. Out here I drive this." It took me a second to realize that was no explanation.

Then he picked up his cellular and pulled the antenna out with his teeth. He punched the numbers. "Lou. I'm about five minutes away. I want the usual sitting on the bar when I get there and a. . .what's your drink, Mario?"

I couldn't believe this. "Dewar's and soda."

"And a Chivas and soda." He put the phone down and shot me a look. "No friend of mine's drinking Dewar's."

He pulled in front of a place called Beaches. It had a pink awning and palm trees by the entrance. He threw the car in park and I looked down at the sidewalk and said, "It's a fire-hydrant."

He said, "It's a parking space." And then he laughed. For a long time. Like parking by a hydrant was the funniest thing anyone had ever done. He laughed with a fake throaty sound.

The place was dark and empty. Just the bartender, Lou, and a woman in a bright red dress. She was down at the end of the bar, fixing her hair in a pocket mirror. Me and Vinny sat where our drinks were waiting.

He took a taste of his and puckered his lips. He said, "You're getting close, Lou."

Lou said, "You're full of shit. That's the best Balls-In-a-Sling on the Island."

Vinny said, "It's close. I've had sneakier."

"Sneakier?"

Vinny said, "Lou. Meet my friend, Mario."

I stuck out my hand. "Good to meet you."

Vinny said, "Me and Lou go back. Lou, tell Mario who helped you get this place started."

Lou looked at me and said, "Vinny did."

I nodded. What do you say to that?

Then Vinny and Lou talked about things that only made sense to them. Inside things. Things involving lots of names I didn't know. I had another drink, but was still nervous about everything back home. I was thinking Vinny'd take me aside soon and we'd talk it out.

But then he waved the woman over. She held up her finger and collected some things off the bar. Her cigarettes. A hair brush. She stuffed them into her purse and snapped it shut walking over.

She threw her arm around Vinny, kissed his cheek, then licked her finger and wiped the lipstick off him. Vinny said, "Carla, meet my friend, Mario. We're in business together."

Carla walked around behind me and pressed herself against my back. Something moved low in my stomach. She slipped her hand down the front of my sweatshirt and rubbed my chest. She said, "Nice to meet you, Mario."

Vinny said, "Carla's a nice girl."

"The goods," Lou said.

"Mario's a busy guy, lately," Vinny told Carla. "He's got lots on his mind. Needs some help relaxing, you know?"

I swallowed when her finger circled one of my nipples.

Then Vinny handed her his car keys. He looked at me and said, "I'll be here when you get back."

Carla drove fast. I thought of telling her to slow down: "You're in someone else's car." But then I remembered the reason I'd come out here and thought, "Who was I to give advice?"

Carla said, "Vinny's thinking of selling this car. I really hope he does. He's too young for a Caddy. I always tell him, `Vinny? What you need is something sporty.' You think he listens?" Her nails made a clicking sound as she dialed up the radio. I don't know, but something about that sound told me I had no business in this car with this woman. I couldn't cheat on Doreen.

I said, "For Christ's sake, slow down!"

"Jesus," Carla yanked her hand back from the dial. "I'm not deaf." She let up on the gas.

"I'm sorry," I said. I said, "This's Vinny's world, not mine." I said, "I just got tired of scraping by, that's all. That's all it was."

"What the hell are you talking about?" She shook her head at me, "Vinny wasn't kidding. You really need it." She pulled her dress up. She grabbed my hand and put it on her thigh. "You'll feel better after. All Vinny's guys get the full package. Whatever you want."

I said, "Take me back to the bar."

"What?"

"You heard me," I said.

Carla parked the car by the hydrant again. We walked in together, Vinny saying, "What happened?"

"He's queer," Carla said.

Queer? "I'm no queer," I told Vinny.

Vinny said, "She doesn't mean it that way." He said, "C'mere, sit down." He said, "Carla, leave us alone a minute." She flipped her hair and walked to the end of the bar. She sat down and got out her hairbrush, her cigarettes, her pocket mirror.

Vinny said, "Lou, get him a drink." Then Vinny brought his face close to mine. "It's like this," he said, "Capo and Cruz? They don't exist."

"What?"

"They're not really after you. They're cop-friends of mine. I paid them to scare you."

I didn't understand right away. I mean, it took a minute for what Vinny'd said to feel like the truth. But when I got hold of it, I wanted to hit him. If I wasn't so afraid of Vinny, of who he knew and what he could get away with, I'd've pasted him right there.

Vinny said, "You follow?"

I nodded. I couldn't talk. Lou brought the drink, but I didn't touch it.

"I have to test my people. I wanted to up my business with you, but I couldn't do that unless I knew for sure you could take the heat, in case anything."

What was stopping me from hitting him?

He said, "A guy who can have the law after his ass and still live normal -- have a few drinks, get laid, relax -- that's the kind of guy I can do business with. You understand, right? I mean, how would you do it?"

I thought the glass would break in my hand.

He said, "Don't worry. I'll pay for everything. Whatever you owe money on I'll pay for, and then we don't know each other anymore." He said, "Thanks, Mario," and put his hand on my shoulder. He said, "It's been nice having you on."

All this happened last year. A lot happens in a year. Doreen finds work cleaning offices, nights, and I get a job at Dom's. I still see Vinny. Him and Dom worked out the bad blood and Vinny brings cars to the shop every Tuesday and Thursday. I guess I've got no right hating him. He kept his promise. Me and Doreen still have our stuff. And he always asks how Dom's treating me. I say, "I can't complain," then make like I'm minding my business. But the truth is, I keep an eye on Dom. I watch how he handles himself around Vinny and I wonder.

Weekends become important for me and Doreen, us working opposite shifts. So Sunday mornings, we make a point of spending some time. We'll get bagels at the place down the street, or walk around the park holding hands. Sometimes we'll bring old bread and feed the pigeons. Simple things. Out of the blue, she'll say, "Everything okay at Dom's?" But it's different than when Vinny asks. I tell her, "Everything's golden. I like the work." She says I can do better. I tell her she's right, but the truth is I'm happy for now.







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