Author: Priscilla
Prologue: How It Began
Mark was the first to walk into the store; then Angel, Mike, Jess, and myself entered soon after. We dispersed; each to different sections of the store. I took the comic book and magazine racks, Mark went for the chips, Angel and Jess for the candy, and Mike went to the back for the beer. There were two guys working the store that day, Angelo and Donovin Santangelo, the owner�s two sons. Donovin, who was in his early 40�s, was behind the pay counter and the Angelo who was still 30-something was sweeping the floor in front of the cleaning supplies.
I pulled three comic books and two different issues of Pent House for the guys off the top rack, well aware that the two men were looking in my direction, but I pretended not to notice. I slowly slipped the magazines into the inside pockets of my jean jacket. Behind me, Donovin lifted the counter and started making his way towards me. He was a mean looking man, with fierce black eyes and hair and he had what looked like a mini metal bat in his left hand, looked like a cop�s baton. Angel and Jess noticed, and they started making a racket on the other side of the store, pushing and shoving each other.
"Hey I don't want no trouble in here!" Donovin yelled back at them in his still broken English, eventhough he'd been in the states for years, he showed no interest in learning. Not that it mattered, almost the whole neighborhood was Italian. He walked away from me and in the others' direction, slapping the base of the bat in his palm as he went. Angel and Jess continued their shoving match.
"Hey, you wanna fight? Then get the fuck out of my store! Get out, you little shits!" Donovin said, shoving Angel towards the door. Angel whirled and shoved him hard, and Donovin fell on his ass.
"Don't you ever fucking touch me." Angel seethed. After staring blankly up at Angel from the place he'd landed, Donovin jumped to his feet and rushed at him, catching Angel around the waist like a line backer and thrusting him onto the ground. He straddled Angel's waist and grabbed his face with one hand, as he formed a fist with the other.
Jess came up from behind him, throwing one arm around his throat and shoving his knee into his back. Mark and I made our way out the front, Angelo never even looking our way as he watched his brother be manhandled by a kid less than half his age. Angel got his arm free and landed a couple of shots to Donovin�s stomach while Jess continued his assault on his back. Mark and I made it out, the stolen magazines, comics, and chips, in their places under our clothes. Mike walked past Angel and Jess; nodding on his way out. Jess took the signal and shoved Donovin off of Angel, then helped Angel up. But before we knew it, Donovin had gotten up again, arm swinging the bat in a deadly aimed arc.
�I�ll kill you, you son of a bitch!�
The first blows landed on Angel�s right shoulder, the side of his head, then his wrist, the sound of crunching bone letting him know that it was broken. Angel, knees threatening to buckle under his weight, tried to run out of the store.
Donovin went after him, and caught him in the side of the neck, making Angel crash against the door with enough force to bust it open and through it, where he fell onto the sidewalk. We all stood frozen for a second, frozen, until Jess moved forward and knelt beside him.
�I think you killed him! Oh My God! You killed him!� He screetched, looking up at Donovin and then at the rest of us with eyes as big as saucers.
�Then he better be ready to kill us too.� Mark said stepping up away from us and the crowd that was forming.
�I don�t have a problem with you, kid, my problem�s with your shit for brains friend over there.� Donovin said, breathing heavily while he racked his eyes over Mark's imposing physique with eyes full of caution. Mike grabbed the jacket I had draped over my arm, and walked toward Mark.
�Oh you gotta problem alright, and you�re looking at him.� Mike said, walking past Mark. He reached into Jess� discarded jacket and pulled out two handfuls of the candy Jess and Angel had lifted and threw it onto the ground. Donovin�s eyes widened in anger as he stared at his father�s stolen merchandise on the dirty sidewalk.
�I�ll kill all of you.� He seethed through clenched teeth. He charged at Mike with the bat, missing his head by mere inches.
�This is bad, this is so fucking bad�.� I was saying, looking around helplessly at the people who had gathered to see a fight, not to stop one. In our neighborhood fights of any kind were revered, almost sacred. Great street fights were talked about in the same, almost nostalgic way that old boxers and good baseball games were remembered. The more fights somebody had under their belt, the higher on the �food chain� they were. Nothing, short of murder proved manhood more. No one was going to stop this fight.
Mike swung his fist in a sharp right and missed. Donovin swung the bat again, landing a blow to Mike�s hip, to the side of the face. The third grazed Mike�s jaw and sent him flying, causing him to put his arms out to break the fall, his head just missing a fire hydrant by mere inches.
�Stop this, oh my God, he�s gonna fucking kill him! Let go of me!� I struggled to get loose of Mark�s grasp. One of us hurt was bad enough, but Mike could end up dead if this kept going. My struggling was pointless though, considering one of Mark�s arms was about the size of my thigh, and were firmly planted around my waist. I wasn�t going anywhere, so I stopped struggling and continued to watch the fight that seemed to be going in slow motion. Mike was struggling to get up as Donovin approached him.
Mark let out an angry growl, pushed past me and into Donovin�s face, shoving him hard in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards.
�Fight me.�
�Fuck you, you little shit!� Donovin screamed, wiping his mouth.
Mark charged Donovin, both of them falling to the ground in a heap of flying arms and swinging legs. He landed two hard punches against Donovin�s head and threw an elbow to the base of his nose. Donovin swung once and missed, he was tired now and the punch had nothing behind it but frustration. Mark landed three more punches, all to Donovin�s face, Donovin swung once and fell, bringing everything to an end. Mark walked back to me, yanked open my jacket and grabbed the magazines and comic books inside. He then took his jacket and pulled out the bags of chips hidden there. He walked back over to Donovin and threw the stolen articles on his chest.
�You can keep your fuckin� books, your candy, and your chips, we don�t want em� no more asshole.�
I let out the breath I�d been holding and went over to my friends, helping them walk away from the scene that had been of our own creation. That fight, to this day, is talked about in the neighborhood almost as if it were a myth, an urban legend. People call it one of the greats, I call it a perfect example of what we were and what I hoped we would always be. Friends forever, connected together by the harshness of life and the scars of difficult childhoods. I thought I would know them forever.....I should have learned my lesson. Good things never last long.
Title: The Gauntlet
Author: Priscilla
Chapter One: Life Goes On, Hearts Keep Beating
October 22, 1991
It was raining hard; dark clouds made the world outside the glass windows seem gray and clammy. Inside, the halogen lights were on full, making everything seem brighter than it should have been. The people milling about were too wrapped up in their own worlds to notice us, two darkly and expensively dressed figures sipping on hot coffee near the windows. Looking back, the weather seemed appropriate somehow, because as crappy as it was outside I can honestly tell you that I felt worse on the inside. He was staring at me with this look that said, �I have something to say and I�m pretty sure you�re not going to like it.�
I just stood there, a few feet away from the terminal that led to a plane, that would take me halfway across the country to my new life. I wanted to leave everything like it had been for the last couple of months. Everything was coming into place, it seemed. But we all know that things are very rarely what they seem to be. I guess I'm kind of slow when it comes to learning from my mistakes.
"I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it. I, ah, I think it would be best if we didn't continue this." Joshua, my boyfriend of 2 years said, tears already pooling in his aquamarine eyes.
"What do you mean? Are you breaking up with me Joshua?" I asked, my inability to comprehend what was going on apparent in my voice. I couldn't believe this....It could not happen this way. Joshua was my starting point; he was the reason why I stayed in New York. He marked the change that had taken place in me; the clothes, the hair, the new attitude, all went in coordination to match the new job and the new man. With Joshua I had proven that I had moved on, that Mark Wahlberg had not been my downfall, and that he had been irrelevant in my life then, even if we had reconciled now.
"Yeah." He nodded, "Listen, I've been thinking about this a lot and I honestly think that it�s not going to work. You're going to be going to school in North Carolina. I mean, you're going to be living there; halfway across the country from where I am. When are we gonna see each other Jade? On holidays only? Or when one of us has vacation? I can't do that." He said, shaking his head sadly.
I didn�t, or couldn�t, find the words to say what I wanted. It was like my tongue had swelled and nothing coherent would come out of it, so I had to turn away. It had been four months since I'd received the letter that would change everything in my life, for the better, or so it had seemed at the time. I had been accepted to Duke University's Law Program. After four years of petitioning and letter writing, I'd been accepted. It suddenly dawned on me that this thing with Joshua was meant to happen--because a new life was waiting for me, and I was no longer needed here....
"Ok." I whispered. I felt...defeated, like yet again, fate had dealt me a blow when I least expected it, and least needed it. I didn't understand why he felt that he had to do it now, here. My comment caught him off guard, because when I looked back at him, Joshua had this confused look on his face.
"What?" he asked dumbly.
"It's ok, I understand. It wouldn't be fair to you or me." I said lying through my teeth. I did not want this. Joshua walked the small distance that now separated us and pulled me into a one-sided hug. My arms couldn't find the strength to wrap themselves around him and my voice got caught in my throat. Finally, after a couple of minutes I pulled away, and found a smile I didn't feel like giving him and I'm sure the one he gave me was the same.
"Take care of yourself, Jade Corleone," he said still smiling. I shrugged nonchalantly and returned his smile.
"Will do." I nodded in agreement. After a couple of minutes of complete silence, I decided to break it, and sever the tie that had probably made Josh stick around for as long as he had.
"See you around, Josh, take care of yourself," I said before walking away from him and his sad puppy dog eyes. I wouldn't look back; my pride and my heart wouldn't let me.
I practically ran into the women's bathroom and hid for a couple of minutes, hoping to God that Joshua was not still waiting for me on the other side. I splashed some cold water on my face and reapplied the makeup that had rubbed off, hoping it would make me look more alive than how I felt. I felt like shit and probably looked it, but I couldn't find it in me to care at the moment. With a deep sigh, I picked up my heavy purse and carry-on bag and walked out of the bathroom in search of the one person that I had no doubt, could and would make me cry again before I got on that plane.
*************
I found Mark sitting on one of the chairs next to my terminal; elbows on his legs and hands clasped together where he was resting his chin. It was his 'I'm thinking about something very seriously' pose and I couldn't help but smile at how well I could still read him. He looked a little tired, his eyes had light smudges underneath, but he also looked comfortable in the dark blue jeans, black sweater and wool coat he wore, the casual leather boots on his feet were a nice touch. His hair was a little longer than I would of liked, up to his jaw line, and he had a days' growth of stubble of his chiseled chin. I racked him over with my eyes; no wonder little girls and grown women alike had pictures of him up on their walls. He was practically gorgeous. He stood up when he saw me, smiled, walked over and gave me a hug.
I hadn't seen him for a while now; he was off finishing some movie or another; there were so many lately I couldn't keep track of them. I hugged him back, and saw someone I hadn't expected to see over his shoulder. Anger flared up in me when my eyes locked with her brown.
Never told you about her did I? Karen Nichols was Mark's new model girlfriend, had been for a couple of months; and she was watching us like a hawk. I swear she didn't blink as she stared, and you want to know something else? I hated her. I hated how she had morphed from the sickeningly sweet, funny, outgoing, vibrant, girl she had been when they'd first met to the snobby, patronizing, belittling bitch she was now.
That wasn't the only thing that upset me about their relationship; it was also the fact that she had changed my best friend to the point where the Mark I knew rarely showed his face. He kept being snuffed out through her constant ridicule of him. It was well known that Mark had barely made it through High School; but every time she got angry she didn't waste any time shoving her ongoing Ivy- league education in his face and how she came from this great family and he didn't. The list could go on and on......
He was a great actor now; the rapping thing hadn't worked out. I was so happy for him, I really was, but he had a steady relationship, a great career, had once again reunited with his family...... It just seemed like he didn't need me anymore, and I couldn't help think for the millionth time that day, that my move could not have come at a better time.
I pulled back and smiled at the creases in his forehead, they made it look like he was frowning. He always did that when he was upset. Mark didn't return my smile; just sort of smirked and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "So you're leaving me again." He said, releasing a heavy sigh. It was more of a comment than a question and I couldn't stop a wry smile from adorning my face. He looked worried; like he honestly thought that I wasn't going to come back.
We had come a long way since our little meeting in that restaurant. We had rebuilt our relationship again; it had taken way longer than I had anticipated, but it was back to its original comfortable easiness. It was really hard to see myself without him again, and that thought excited and scared me shitless all at the same time. How would my time away change us? Change me?
"I'm not leaving you dick-head. That's why they invented phones and e-mail remember?" I said chuckling. He was looking down at his shoes like they were the most interesting thing on the planet right then. When he finally nodded after a couple of minutes and looked up at me, I got the feeling like he was just about to say something either catastrophically horrible or gratifying, but just when he was about to open his mouth, a female voice came over the loud speakers, and his mouth closed again, ending the moment for good.
"Flight 1237 from New York to North Carolina is now boarding. All passengers please report to gate 52. Thank you."
"Take care of yourself over there. Keep in touch...," He looked back at Karen and gave her an uneasy smile, the turned back to me. "I--I love you alright?" He whispered, I couldn't help smiling at that. It was like with those words he had erased the hurt from my situation with Joshua, the feelings of dread swiftly coming over me as to what could possibly await me in North Carolina. But without giving me a chance to respond, he leaned forward and kissed my forehead quickly.
"I love you too," I whispered and stepped back, giving him and myself much needed space.
The realization that I was leaving, yet again, made me want to start crying. When it rains it fucking pours? You don't know the half of it. It was only something like 7:30 in the morning and I already had all this emotional baggage on my shoulders.
I adjusted the bag's shoulder strap and offered him my best smile. Hopefully, I could voice all that I wanted to say with that look, that I couldn't verbally. I gave him a small wave, before turning my back on him and walking slowly down the long corridor to the plane.