The Scorpion's Tale (5 page)

Steven carefully pulled back the sheet and
stared down at the face of his little angel. He was astonished to
see that she looked like she was sleeping peacefully and would soon
awaken. He smiled at her. The mottled color of her skin was the
only sign something was amiss. Steven bent down and lifted his
daughter’s body from the floor and cradled her tightly. No one was
worried about Steven contaminating the scene, since Detective
Johnston had moved the technicians like a drill sergeant to finish
the process before Steven Capresi was allowed to enter.

Steven gently rocked his daughter in his
arms. Why had he taken for granted that there would be an endless
supply of tomorrows and second chances? Why had he abandoned them
for a stupid business? The tears fell freely as he held his
daughter’s body tighter, stroking her hair. He knew that when he
finally released her, he would be letting go of everything he had
lived for. He felt all the goodness instilled in him by his mother,
wife, and daughter ebb away. It was replaced by a massive black
wave that was contaminating his soul. All of the misfortunes that
befell him during his life came flooding back. He could feel the
rage he had suppressed for so many years swell in his chest. Steven
clenched his teeth and shut his eyes tightly. The metamorphosis was
complete. His life, as he had known it, was over. Steven Capresi
was dead and from that death he knew he had the strength for
revenge.

Detective Johnston watched as the young
widower said his final goodbyes. Could this broken man possibly be
responsible? Watching Steven holding his child, the detective was
almost certain that he wasn’t involved. However, the detective had
to keep an open mind. Anything was possible when it came to human
behavior. This seasoned veteran was now having trouble maintaining
his composure with the juxtaposition of the ultimate display of
love and the ultimate act of evil before him. He would never forget
the sight of this father cradling his dead child and how it had
rekindled his own personal hatred for the killers of the world. At
that moment, something deeply connected him to Steven and he hoped
the man before him was innocent.

Detective Johnston walked down the stairs
ahead of Steven, and looked on as he descended the stairs, leaning
on the railing for support. Each step became more difficult.
Steven’s breathing became heavier and his head throbbed. The ground
moved beneath him. His mind was filled with thoughts of his wife’s
lifeless body and his dead daughter. Millions of memories swirled
around and he couldn’t see anymore. The sky went black. He reached
into the darkness toward a face without description, but there was
no one there. He felt himself falling into the blackness. The
detective rushed toward Steven as he collapsed.

A gray September sky befitted the somber mood
of the funeral. Tears of rain drizzled lightly as Steven slowly
walked to the Queens gravesite, a serene area under the protective
shade of a sprawling oak. Next to him walked Amanda’s mother, Dolce
Bollini. Steven tried to be strong for the two families, united
this day in grief. He remembered his father’s funeral and the
pained expressions of his family members as they walked to the
grave. Amanda’s father, Amador, walked a few steps ahead; his head
bowed low, his eyes to the ground. He was seventy-eight and had
been in excellent physical health. Amador was a proud man who ran a
family restaurant for thirty years and had put all of his six
children through college. He had aged ten years over the last three
days. Steven’s mother, Francesca, followed her son, her face
shrouded in black lace. She was escorted by both of her daughters.
Behind them walked Amanda’s three sisters. Lagging far behind the
group was the man who had loved Amanda more than anyone in the
world, her older brother Marco.

The service was brief. Elderly relatives were
seated on green plastic chairs beneath the canopy set up adjacent
to the graves. Steven sat in the front row, between his mother and
mother-in-law, tightly squeezing their hands, their rosary beads
digging into his skin and making impressions on his palms.

The priest commenced the final prayers. “We
are gathered here today to pay our respects to Amanda, Catarina,
and Mia. In the midst of such sorrow, may we turn to the words of
God’s love for us.” The priest droned on, invoking the words of
Psalm 121: “I look up to the mountains. Does my help come from
there? My help comes from the Lord, who made the heavens and the
earth!”

Steven closed his eyes. He didn’t want to
listen. These were meaningless words. He no longer believed in
God.

The priest spoke directly to Steven as he
finished the psalm, as if he sensed Steven’s faltering faith. “The
Lord stands beside you as your protective shade. The sun will not
hurt you by day or the moon at night. The Lord keeps you from all
evil and preserves your life.”

First, he lost his father; now, his wife and
children. God had clearly abandoned Steven, and it was Steven’s
turn to abandon God. This time forever! Venom pulsed through his
veins. The rest of the priest’s words were lost on him, as he
slowly clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.

The priest concluded his prayers and Steven
laid a white rose on Amanda’s polished, black walnut casket, and
another on Catarina’s. He had not slept in days. He had no more
tears to shed. His thoughts were far away and, strangely, he felt
no more sadness.

A gentle hand on his shoulder and a soothing
voice brought him back to the present. He turned towards his
mother-in-law. She had pulled back her veil, revealing a face,
swollen from prolonged crying, but beautiful nonetheless. Steven
looked into the eyes of his mother-in-law and saw his wife’s face
thirty years older.

“Steven,” she whispered, “do not turn away
from God. Jesus Christ is the truth, the life, and the way. Honor
your wife, so that you will be reunited with your family in heaven.
Promise me.”

Steven squeezed her hand tightly as they lost
themselves in the mounting piles of white roses on the caskets.

“I love you,” he said softly. “I will always
honor my wife.” He was uncomfortable knowing that he could not
promise what she had asked of him. He sensed that she had read his
thoughts during the priest’s prayers.

The procession of roses and kind words
continued until all the mourners, except one, had retreated into
the warmth of their dry cars. Steven laid his hand on Marco’s
shoulder. Marco knelt beside his sister’s casket, burying his face
in the roses. Steven watched Marco’s body heaving as he sobbed.

Marco was the bedrock of the family for as
long as Steven had known him. Strong and handsome, smart and kind,
Marco had been the envy of the neighborhood.

Steven helped Marco to his feet. The two men
looked into each other’s eyes and both knew what the other was
thinking. “I feel your pain, Marco. Not a moment goes by when I
don’t think about how I failed them.” Steven looked away, haunted
by guilt.

Marco sighed loudly as the tears fell
silently. “All my life I looked after her. You know what a jerk I
was when you started dating her!”

Steven smiled. “No more than a brother should
be. Who would have believed we’d be like brothers!” Steven
continued.

Marco took both of Steven’s hands and held
them tightly. “You are my brother and I love you. I will always be
there for you.”

The two men walked in silence to Marco’s car.
Neither man said anything as Marco got in and drove away. Steven
turned back to the canopy to say his final goodbyes. The cemetery
was now empty. Steven walked toward the grave and was surprised to
see a solitary figure kneeling beside Amanda’s casket. He moved
closer, just as the man crossed himself, laid down a red rose, and
stood to leave.

The man’s eyes fixed on Steven’s as both men
regarded each other in a tensely unbroken silence. Neither man
moved. Steven spoke first.

“Hi Nick, I’m glad you came. It would have
meant a lot to Amanda that you were here.”

Nick Manzione continued staring but said
nothing. His eyes were red. Steven didn’t have the patience to play
games with his old friend and rival.

“Look Nick, the past is the past. I can’t do
anything about it. My wife and my daughters are dead and I’m alone.
I’m sorry for what happened between us, but if you can’t move on,
then that’s your problem, not mine. I’m happy to see you here, I
really am. But if you still hold a grudge, you can kiss my
ass!”

Nick sat on one of the green chairs and
motioned for Steven to sit next to him. Steven obliged and the two
men sat in silence, gazing at the caskets. Steven and Nick had been
best friends since they were little boys. The Manzione family was
then sovereign in the Brooklyn Mafioso. Over the past twenty plus
years, it had expanded in to lower Manhattan and the Bronx. Nick
taught Steven the ways of the street and Steven taught Nick how to
box. Carlo, Nick’s older brother, was always bailing them out of
trouble. They were inseparable. As the boys grew older, Nick’s
father, Pierro, pressured his son to become more involved in the
family business and encouraged Steven to join them whenever
possible. However, Steven’s mother was adamant that her son never
became involved in organized crime. She was hysterical when she
discovered that Steven was running “errands” for Nick’s family.
Gradually, Steven’s mother’s influence prevailed and Steven took an
interest in organized boxing and his studies. Nick eventually
dropped out of high school. The two friends chose different paths
and eventually lost touch with each other.

“I’m sorry too,” Nick said, as he let out a
loud sigh. “I was an idiot. I was wrapped up in myself and I was
too proud. I miss you, man. You were my best friend. In my line of
work, I don’t have many friends.”

“I know, Nick. I’ve seen the people you hang
around with. I’m amazed you’re still alive.”

“Survival of the fittest, dog eat dog. You
don’t know the half of it, my brother. I live in a crazy world of
short life spans! Steven, I’m sorry about the way I handled
everything with Amanda.” He let out another sigh as if he’d been
holding in the words all his life. “You have no idea how long I’ve
wanted to say that to you.”

Steven nodded his understanding. “Yes I do,
because I’ve wanted to say the same to you. I know you loved her,
and I know she loved you, and at the end of the day, that’s all
that really matters. It never bothered me that she had feelings for
you.”

Both men continued gazing at the casket and
thought of the woman they’d both loved. Before Amanda met Steven,
she had dated Nick. At first, she had been infatuated with his good
looks, money, fancy car, and the influence he had around town. She
was young and impressionable. To Nick, Amanda had been just another
pretty face and he dated a multitude of women. Somewhere along the
line, however, they both fell in love. Nick decided he wanted to
marry Amanda, but her parents were not fond of Nick, his family, or
his reputation. They forbade her to see him anymore. Nick pleaded
with Amanda to elope with him but she would not disobey her
parents. Although they stopped dating each other, Nick vowed he
would marry her someday.

When Amanda met Steven, she had no idea that
Steven and Nick had been friends. She had finished college and had
lost touch with Nick. When Amanda started working, Nick began
calling her and coming to her office. She had lunch with him a few
times, but was very honest about her intentions. Still, they
renewed their friendship and Amanda enjoyed his company. Nick’s
feelings toward Amanda grew stronger. Amanda told him that she had
gotten engaged. At first Nick was shocked and angered, but Amanda
reassured him they would always be friends. When he discovered her
fiancé was Steven, he flew into a rage, cursed them, and renounced
his friendship with both. Steven tried to talk to his old friend
but Nick swore he’d kill Steven if they ever met again.

“Does this mean that you no longer want to
kill me?”

Nick chuckled. “Did I say that? I haven’t
decided.”

“She loved the letter, Nick,” Steven said,
changing the subject. “She kept it in the drawer of her nightstand
with her most cherished items.”

Nick looked genuinely surprised. “You mean
my
letter? The one I wrote to her when she married you?”

Steven nodded. “She never let me read it, and
made me promise that I never would.”

“You’ve never read my letter?” Nick
asked.

“No, I haven’t. She said it symbolized a
special bond she would always have with you.”

A tear rolled slowly down Nick’s cheek as he
looked at the casket. Even though he’d shunned his two friends, he
had written a letter to Amanda and delivered it to her the morning
of her wedding. He refused to see her and left it with one of her
bridesmaids. For all these years he was uncertain whether she had
received it. “Forgive me.”

Steven put his arm around his friend’s
shoulder. “I’m asking your forgiveness, too. I wanted to speak with
you at Carlo’s funeral, but my pride got in the way. I’m
sorry.”

“I saw you at my brother’s funeral. I could
have come over to say hello, but I didn’t. I was a jerk. It meant a
lot to Alberto and me that you were there.”

“I miss Carlo,” Steven said. “I loved your
brother like he was my own.”

“He loved you, too.”

“We had some great times together.”

Nick smiled. “Remember when you guys had a
boxing match and you knocked him out with a right hook?”

Steven laughed. “It was an uppercut and the
luckiest punch I ever threw! It was one in a million!”

Nick chuckled. “Carlo threatened that he
would kick our asses if we ever told anyone about it.”

Steven nodded, laughing aloud. “I’ve kept
that secret all my life.”