Affirmation (23 page)

“Don’t touch my daughter!” Mr. Johnson warned when Giuseppe
turned and walked to Shanda’s bedside when she called him over.

She looked at him with pleading eyes and he softened, “Don’t Geo. Don’t do it. He’s my dad. Good or bad, you get what I’m saying?”

He
gripped Shanda’s hand.
“Sí bella.”

“Get your hands off of her!”

Giuseppe smirked, “And what will you do, cut it off with your mouth?”

“You sonovabitch
!
”

“You are not taking her or the bambino anywhere, do you understand Mister Polizei?”

“She’s my daughter.”

“She is also the mother of my son!”

“My daughter is not your property.”

“No, she has her own mind to do as she wants. Apparently, you believe she belongs to you like chattel. So, tell me Mister Polizei, who treats her like property, you or I, stronzo?”

Mister Johnson wanted to beat the man to a pulp, “Fucker!”

Giuseppe peered at Shanda. He would give her this choice, but
on the child there wasn’t any debate.
If she chose to go with her parents, his son
would stay with his father. He did not tell her this, instead he asked. “Do you want to return with your parents
to Brooklyn,
donna?”

Shanda hated to hurt them. Despite everything, she loved her parents, but her life had changed. She tasted true independence and being away from them helped her see clearly. Her father talked rules and her mother was always preoccupied with
either her job or church functions or
friends. They never saw Shanda. They didn’t understand, wh
at she craved
growing up was their time, yet they had none to spare.

She
sighed;
t
he ball was in her court, wasn’t it? She
and
Giuseppe
had a lot to discuss
concerning their child. They were going to need time to discover parenthood together, it was only fair. The chemistry between them was worth further exploration. She wasn’t expecting a fairytale ending
, running through fields of lilies and corny shit like that into each other’s arms. Her vision of happiness was simpler, more real, a guy who loved and respected everything about Shanda. She needed a strong, confident guy who didn’t take offense to everything and scampered away when she c
onfronted
him on his bullshit. Whether that was Giuseppe or not, she’d have to see. Finally, she answered. “Mom, dad, I’m not a kid. I haven’t lived with you in years, what the heck make
s
you think I want to now?”

“But Shanda…”

“No dad, no but’s. I’m too tired to go through this again with you. I’m sick of hearing how you want the best for me. Just stop it.” She closed her eyes exhausted from talking and opened them again. “Either accept my choice or go home right now.”

Her father started to speak and Giuseppe stopped him, “You heard her decision, now let her rest.”

Selange grinned. The crestfallen expression on Mr. Johnson’s face was priceless. The man didn’t get it. He’d lost his little girl a long time ago.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“Mommy, I don’t like this teacher.” Sal said as they walked the corridor toward the science lab during the Parent Teacher’s Conference.

Two
weeks after the wedding and things were back to abnormal-normal as she called it. Shanda was in Palermo, Sophie was driving her insane, but she liked Amelda. Everybody likes Amelda, the woman is very cool.

Alfonzo was away on business otherwise he would be here. He apologized for missing the school meeting but she dismissed the apology. They were a team and if one was out of the commission the other stepped up to bat. So far, Sal’s teachers had nothing but wonderful accolades.
But, in science his grades were slipping and she saved the worse for last. Other parents and their kids passed in the hall and her son knew most of them. A few parents gave a friendly wave to Selange and she smiled back and then addressed Sal quietly, “Exactly what don’t you like?”

Sal inhaled, “I just don’t like science anymore.”

“You once loved it. Remember the science kit dad gave you and how excited you were to view the wings of the moth on the Petri dish and when you looked at it under the microscope how
stoked
you were. What happened since then?”

He shrugged
.
“I don’t know.”

Selange’s mom antennae went up
.
“Did the teacher do or say anything Sal that made you stop liking her class?”

His eyes went to his feet
.
“If I tell you mom, swear, I mean swear you’re not going to get mad?”

She swore
.

“Okay. Well my friend and I was talking and I told my friend my mom and dad got married again and then the teacher told me to stop talking. I did
and later when we were changing class I heard her tell Mrs.
Marquez
that my mom must be an idiot if she wants to marry a man who’s a criminal.”

Selange tried not to let the shock register on her face
.
“Wow, that wasn’t nice.”

“No, but she’s always mean to me and not the other kids, that’s why
I
don’t like her.”

“Sal how long has this been going on?”

“Since she started teaching here.”

Selange took a long deep breath. This was a private school
, a
n elite upper-middle class fucking school. She and Alfonzo paid good money for their children to have a stellar education. They contributed heftily to this fucking place and now she was so pissed her body became an oven. Every day she sent her son to school and this is what he had to endure, oh goddamn!

She faked a smile
.
“Well we’ve come this far Sal. We might as well go in. Hey, but don’t worry mom deals with mean people,
all the time and
so does dad.
Remember, I got you, alright?
”

“
Yes.
”

“The best
way to deal with mean people is
not to let them hurt you
inside
.
Sometimes when you’re happy and they’re not, mean people want to make you sad. They aren’t loved.”

“I bet she doesn’t have a husband
or a boyfriend
.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

They walked into the classroom and Selange smiled at the woman sitting behind a messy desk. She was around her mid-forties, a pleasant looking woman if not for
the
bad aura generating from her entire body. Selange took a seat in one of the hard chairs
.
“Hello, Ms.
Carrera
.”

“Buenos dias Senora Diaz. Hola Salvatore.”

“Hello.” Sal answered reluctantly.

Selange got right down to business. “You’re rather new here aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“
It’s very nice to meet you. I see by the grades Sal’s received he’s lost interest in this subject. He’s always loved science, what could have happened?”

The teacher pulled out Sal’s folder from the many on her desk, “He’s actually a very intelligent child. He scores the highest in the class. I believe his fraternization with other students is the reason why his grades
have suffered
.”

“Can I see his test results?”

The folder was handed to Selange and she read the scores. Nineties were excellent. However, there were notes, such as needs to pay more attention and half points because he didn’t number his work.
This was an o
dd
practice which
drew a skeptical brow from Selange. She returned the folder, “Well, he’s doing pretty good
I’d say. The grading is a bit unfair. I see you penalize a lot for lack of numbering yet he answers the questions correctly right below the numbered question. Strange.”

“He has to let me know which one he’s answering.”

“I suppose it might be a mystery if the numbers aren’t already there but that’s not the case.” Selange smiled at her son, “Sal why don’t you go in the hall with Estefan and say hi to your friends.”

Sal eagerly jumped at the chance to escape
.
“Okay.”

When the boy was gone Selange smiled
.
“I love my son to death.” She leaned forward to
ward
the woman
.
“You don’t like who his parents are, and you’re penalizing him for it.”

The teacher tried to defend her grading practices and Selange decided to end the phony shit and took two random files and skimmed them. No such grading for those children existed. Frankly, there were words of encouragement scribbled on their test papers. She put the folders back and stood. “Ms.
Carrera
, I don’t think you want to teach here. This isn’t
a good school for judgmental people. I’ll tell Sal the bad news that you’ve decided to leave. That is what you plan to do, quit, right?”

Ms.
Carrera
sputtered as if she truly considered
protesting
and when Selange slipped her shades down and faced the woman she sl
ouched
in her seat. The Diaz’
contributed
heft
ily
to the academy and there was a plaque
dedicated to their generosity in the main hall
to prove it
.
Only, big-time
donors
received such recognition
.
Selange Diaz also had a seat on the board. It was foolish to
object
. “
I will let the principal know tomorrow.”
Ms. Carrera answered.

“
It’s best you
hand in your resignation
today
. You want to give proper notice in order for the principal to have a substitute for tomorrow.
Sal deserves a teacher who is fair and encourages him academically and not
someone
spewing hate about his parents.
”

Ms. Carrera’s lips pursed tightly. She had liked teaching at the school and more importantly loved the high salary. She refused to ask the haughty mobster woman to reconsider. She would never beg. “Fine
.”

“Very good. A word of advice from one teacher to another
, c
hildren
are innocent and we should never take out our biased opinions on them. They’re in school to gain academic knowledge which
doesn’t i
nclude being singled out and made to feel worthless or
discriminat
ed against
by a miserable bitch like you. Y
ou are not what these children need. The world is harsh enough and someone who spends hours with them each day should not make it worse.”

Ms. Carrera gr
ound
her teeth,
and bit her tongue.
What was there to say?

Selange marched from the classroom and joined Sal in the hall. He was laughing with one of his classmates. “Sal, I just found out Ms.
Carrera
is leaving. Isn’t that a shame?”

“Not really.
I’m glad.
”

                               ****

The men shook hands. They were amicable, well-dressed and wealthy. Every one operated prosperous businesses from the textile industry to media.
They were old money and acquiring new
cash
from
joint
ventures in America and Asia. This meeting was about business of a more leth
al sort. This was to discuss Josef Timpico and the proposition
lay
at Alfonzo’s feet.

These five families, although established and not involved in the practices of ‘pizzo’ had an interest in what Alfonzo was about to say. These were the men
with roots deep in Sicilian soil. Men w
ho over the years shown an allegiance to Alfonzo in deeds privy to the few here. He consi
d
ered these five men
the most loyal of all the families.

He was greeted with respect, not a shake of the hand but a kiss of his ring and in turn he clasped each hand in friendship and asked them to sit.

“We meet when things are well, I take it?” One spoke as he poured a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“Don Abate, nothing is ever truly well in this world. Every day ambitions grow and we have such a man who had the audacity to come to me.”