My Sweet September (737 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: The_Malleys
Rating: 0.91 on 18 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Axolotl feels all nostalgic (View user info) at 2006-06-10 13:13:17 EDT
Two months have passed since Season 2 ended. With Jackie Sullivan's death, John Malley seized control of the Sullivan family by placing a hit on Johnny-boy Sullivan and forcing Michael Sullivan into long exile. Some new faces have joined the family—Raymond Ventry, a new capo, and Dan McCourt, a Paterson gangster—and Virgil O'Duinen has been elevated to underboss. In the time that has passed since John Malley took control, there has been a state of peace with the Dimiglio family, but soon, the incarcerated Godfather of the Dimiglios will return to retake control of his family. For now, things are peaceful.
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Up in Emerson, by the wide Oradell Reservoir, there was a small party on a lawn off Old Hook Road. John Malley and the Sullivan family were celebrating Chris and Virgil O'Duinen, who had just been made men. Though somewhat removed from most of their southern Bergen County, there was a large attendance of Dimiglio men as well.
"To our new soldiers - my sons - Christopher and Virgil Junior," said their father Virgil Senior, the stately grey-haired underboss. "May their careers be as happy as mine!"
All along the picnic tables, the men raised their glasses and toasted: "To Chris and Virgil!"
It was a beautifully sunny day along the banks of the wide lake, the fourth day of July. Up on a neighboring lawn staring across the wide lake to the White Beeches Golf Course in Haworth, a band was playing loudly just far away enough that the party could hear. Alexa Malley looked from her picnic table over past the trees to the stage, where her new boyfriend Jeffrey Nolan was singing into a microphone while the guitarists picked at simple chords.
"Do you like Jeff, daddy?" Alexa asked.
"He seems like a polite young man," John Malley replied, skirting the question. "If he makes you happy, Alexa..."
"Bring him over to meet us after he's done playing," Ashley Malley said to her daughter. Alexa smiled and got up, making her way through the light screen of trees toward the small crowd listening to the band. Nick was off talking to some friends by the lake, far away from the family.
"Be nice to Jeff," Ashley said to her husband after Alexa had gone. "It's Alexa's first real boyfriend."
"Hmm," John said coldly. "Would it have been too much for her to find a real man instead of this long-haired hippie trash? I mean, what's the name of his band? My Sweet September. It could have been Sex Pistols, or the Grateful Dead."
"Not all girls are attracted to men like Donnie over there," Ashley said wryly, gesturing to a neighboring table where Don McMichael was arguing with his girlfriend.
Alyssa Martin, McMichael's longtime girlfriend, searched through a small bag she had brought and said in an undertone, "Donnie, did you forget the fucking sunscreen again?"
"Goddamn it, no, Alyssa," McMichael replied defensively. "For Chrissakes, is it too much to ask that you remember the sunblock that we've only used the last month straight?"
"Well if I was in charge of the sunscreen—" Alyssa hissed.
"Hold on, 'Lyssa," McMichael said to his girlfriend, edging out of the situation. "I gotta go to the toilet."
McMichael walked across the lawn to the small stone building housing the bathrooms. Entering the dark men's room through a spiderweb-clogged door, he saw a man furiously washing his hands in the sink, scrubbing hard with the soap. McMichael walked curiously to his side, and saw it was Raymond Ventry, the new captain of the Paterson crew.
"Raymond, what the hell are you doing?" McMichael asked. Raymond continued scouring his hands and forearms, breathing heavily.
"I gotta wash my hands, Donnie, what's wrong with that?" Raymond said. He was a short tanned man with gelled hair and piercing blue eyes. He tended to make up for his small stature by aggression and with a propensity for violence.
"What, you kill a guy and washing the blood off?"
"I gotta wash, Donnie, leave me alone! Goddamn germs everywhere! I'll be eating soon, won't I?
"Jesus, man," Don McMichael said, shaking his head as he walked over to the urinal. "We got The Aviator over here."
Outside back near the picnic tables, the Sullivan and Dimiglio families were mingling with one another, chatting pleasantly, forgetting their short war of the previous spring. Michael Brecher and his wife were seated with Antonio Delgado and Mr. and Mrs. Paul Ciceri, immersed in conversation. The setting had an air of peace and concord, and John Malley approached Dimiglio Godfather Carmine Galantro with a hopeful spring in his step.
"Glad you could come, Carmine," John Malley said to his once-rival. Carmine Galantro was a heavy, completely bald man in his early sixties, a man who had been boss for twenty-one years.
"Just showing my support, John," Carmine replied jubilantly. Looking over at John Broadus talking about prison with fellow Dimiglio jailbirds, Carmine said "I'm happy that John Broadus is out of jail, he always struck me as an honest man. A real upstanding guy. You know, us...our families..."
"Yes, Carmine?"
"We're supposed to be taking from the rich, and giving to the poor, that's what we were founded on," Carmine said, with a strange tone of nervousness. "Nowadays, people will rob a poor guy for no reason. We should be going after rich businesses, the government, but mostly people are taking advantage and extorting small mom and pop stores. It's atrocious, and I don't see it getting any better when Don Dimiglio returns..."
"How are you with that?" John said in genuine concern. "The Don is finally coming back from jail...but you do have to give up control of the family."
"It's all right, I'll just go back to being underboss," said Carmine dismissively. "But with Don Dimiglio back in command...if he was a fair, and good man, it wouldn't be a problem. He's vicious...he's brutal. I'll be extremely curtailed, and I won't be able to take care of my affairs as independently as before."
"I'm sorry to hear that. True, Carlo Dimiglio isn't a fan of mercy and kindness, and everything else he calls 'pussy shit.'"
"And I just needed one more hit on a guy..." Carmine said wistfully. He turned to John with a wink. John smiled in spite of himself.
"All right, Carmine, I'll send Broadus. Who is it?"
Carmine happily handed John a folded paper and said, "Shawn Vasquez, the MS-13 gang leader in Montclair. Take him out, to show the rest of them they're dealing in Dimiglio territory. I'll make sure you get a cut of the profits. Thank you, John, really, from the bottom of my heart."
"Ah, I can never refuse a request on my daughter's day, or whatever that is," John laughed, pocketing the paper. "You know Alexa's got her first real boyfriend."
"That's great, John!" Carmine said. "Who's the lucky suitor?"
John Malley sardonically pointed up onto the stage at Jeffrey Nolan, in his long hair and tight jeans, singing emotively into a microphone. Carmine laughed and shrugged, saying, "Maybe great isn't the word. What is he, a fag?"
"I guess not, he could have fooled me," John said. "He's a goddamn emo, whatever the fuck that is."
"Good luck with that, John," Carmine said empathetically. "See if you can get your daughter to get him to play some good music. Some Zep, you know what I'm saying?"
"Thanks, Carmine," John said, clapping Carmine on the shoulder as he walked away. John stood on the lawn listening to Jeff's band. Virgil O'Duinen and Michael Brecher walked up behind him.
"Hey John, I made a friend," Michael said.
"So did I. Carmine," John said distractedly.
"Paul Ciceri seems like a stand-up guy. You'd like him," Michael said.
"Yo, Johnny," Virgil said, suppressing laughter. "Don McMichael said he saw Raymond Ventry in the bathroom washing his hands."
"What's wrong with a guy washing his hands?" John asked.
"He was scrubbing them for like five minutes straight, like he's Monk or something," Virgil said. "I never knew the guy succeeding my crew was going to be the Sullivan family's Howard Hughes."
The band stopped playing, and waved goodbye to the crowd. "Finally," Michael said.
"Vito Lucarno called the offices," Virgil said.
"The Cheeks? What did he want?" John asked.
"He needs your best plumber to fix the pipes on one of his made men, very secretly," Virgil replied. "We can send probably John Broadus, or Alex Collins. They're good with wrenches. Regular monkeys, they are."
"Give them both the information, and send the two of them," John said, standing up straight as Alexa brought over Jeff, her new boyfriend. "A clean kill, tell them, nothing messy."
"Daddy, this is Jeffrey Nolan," Alexa beamed, introducing a nineteen-year-old boy with long dark hair covering his gaunt face and tight studded jeans. "And these are my dad's friends Mr. O'Duinen and Mr. Brecher."
"Nice to meet you, Jeff," Virgil said, folding his arms to look as much like an intimidating mobster as he could. John Malley shook Jeff's hand, and suppressed a scowl upon finding a limp handshake.
"Hey, Mr. Malley," Jeff said, brushing his hair back effeminately. "I'm glad to meet you."
"And you too, Jeff," John replied. "What school did you go to?"
"Bergen Community College," Jeff said. "Did you like my band, My Sweet September?"
"Reminds me of a concert I saw back in '87 at Giant's Stadium," Virgil said wistfully. "Deep Purple, Aerosmith, and Guns n' Roses. As soon as Axel Rose got on stage, everyone started booing and throwing bottles at him. These biker guys set a dude on fire and threw him off the mezzanine."
"Sounds cool," Jeff said obliviously. "I gotta go pack the rest of my stuff up, I'll catch you later!" He and Alexa walked back off toward the stage.
"Jesus fuck—" John Malley said in disgust. "Teenagers today."
* * *
In a parked car in the Meadowlands, just off the Jersey Turnpike, a couple embraced in the front seat. Irene Vega coyly kissed her boyfriend's cheek as he brushed his fingers under her shirt.
"Girl, you're so fine," Shawn Vasquez breathed, their lips connecting for a brilliant instant. Behind the car, his shadow stricken against the shimmering summer moonlight, John Broadus walked toward the car, his pistol in hand.
"Help me," Shawn muttered, fingering Irene's bra strap. She reached behind her, leaning back, unhooking it. Shawn kissed her deeply on the neck as John Broadus ascertained that the right target was in the car.
Broadus raised his gun and fired at point-blank range through the car windows, spattering bullets into Shawn's neck and head. Irene screamed, slamming against the opposite door, her breasts bare and mouth wide in shock.
Broadus fired again into the car through the gaping window, silencing Irene's screams. A shell casing clattered on the gravel drive. Broadus' first murders in twelve years.
Broadus gazed into the blood-stained interior for a few moments, and walked away. He remembered his last kill, a double effort with John Malley back in 1993. They had tortured and laid a bullet into the head of Terry McGuiness, an FBI informant, but someone had seen Broadus burying the body under the Pulaski Skyway, and the police had grabbed him.
Convicted in 1995, and served ten years in jail for accessory to murder. Broadus had been undeniably nervous carrying out this hit, but after he dropped the gun in the car to get rid of the weapon, and got back in his own car, his anxiousness ebbed away.
John Broadus switched on the radio and began to drive to get back on the interstate. His old friend Virgil O'Duinen was letting him stay in his house in Lincoln Park until he got back on his feet, but he needed a place of his own.
Bruce Springsteen's Backstreets came on 106.7 LiteFM as Broadus drove up the Jersey Turnpike, and he sang along with it. "Riding on the back streets, riding on the backstreets..."
* * *
The next morning, Willy Malley walked into Brecher's Car Shop in Lodi, just off Route 80. The younger son of Tom Malley was a heavy-set businessman, unlike his brothers John and Peter. Willy made his way into the garage, where only Alex Collins walked around aimlessly.
Ever since Jason Sporran had left the previous May and Jim Brecher had 'disappeared' the month before, the Car Shop had been sadly quiet. It had been three months since Jim had left, buried secretly in the Meadowlands, but Michael Brecher was still affected. There was no one to talk to there except the young, violent Alex.
"Michael?" Willy called out. From the back room where Jim had been murdered Michael Brecher walked out, perking up with the arrival of someone new, like a cooped-up puppy.
"Willy, you should have called!" Michael said excitedly. "How was the drive?"
"Slow. It's all side roads between here and Demarest," Willy replied. "Michael...you look tired."
"Just the work, really," Michael answered, anticipation building.
"I was thinking of maybe buying a partnership in your garage," Willy proposed bluntly. "We could be partners. I know your business isn't doing well, while my Malley Construction...well, we're not bad. I can offer you security, and I can work here with John Broadus as well, maybe."
The prospect of company and financial security sounded too good to be true to Michael, and he jumped at the opportunity. "Of course, Will! That would be...that would be great! It does take a lot of stress off my shoulders, you know Sue-sue's going to the middle school in September—"
"How does thirty thousand sound?" Willy asked.
"Single payment? Done." Michael said. "Sixty-forty profits?"
"All right, Michael, that'll work," Willy chuckled. "I'll accept any pay, Michael—"
"Sixty-two thousand a year."
"—yes, yes, Michael. Just one thing. Don't tell my brother John about this."
"Why can't I tell him?" Michael asked cautiously. "He's my boss, and your brother."
"John's busy with other things, in other areas," Willy said nonchalantly. "Next week my bro Pete's reopening his restaurant in Newark with Pat Coyle, and John's been trying to work out peace issues with the Dimiglios now that the Don is back from prison and Galantro's demoted. It'll ease stress off him. Don't tell him, Mike."
"All right, I won't," Michael said, shaking Willy's hand.
"Deal?"
"Deal."
Episode 1: The Malleys http://www.ubersite.com/m/87184
Episode 2: To Risk Your Arm http://www.ubersite.com/m/87242
Episode 3: Innocent Until Proven Guilty http://www.ubersite.com/m/87289
Episode 4: Roulettes http://www.ubersite.com/m/87511
Episode 5: Broadside - http://www.ubersite.com/m/87564
Episode 6: Under the Influence - http://www.ubersite.com/m/87706
Episode 7: Broken Glass http://www.ubersite.com/m/87745
Episode 8: Off the Face of the Earth http://www.ubersite.com/m/87999
Episode 9: Liability Claims http://www.ubersite.com/m/88086
Episode 10: To Tell the Truth http://www.ubersite.com/m/88306
Episode 11: Entropy http://www.ubersite.com/m/88418
Episode 12: The Will to Power http://www.ubersite.com/m/88782
Episode 13: My Sweet September
Episode 14: Wise Guys
Episode 15: Cloudy Bay
Episode 16: The Carnival
Episode 17: Trick and Treat
Episode 18: Everybody Loves Raymond Ventry
User Reviews
Submitted by BobLobla (user info) at 2006-06-22 16:06:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Another masterpiece...
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-11 23:17:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by dr_weazel (user info) at 2006-06-11 22:43:49 (#)
Ranking: -2
Jeesus fucking christ on a pogo stick. This series is so fucking boring.
Long, uninteresting and overly complicated crap. It's like the Sopranos, but even more shit.
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There are those who like it, and those who don't. This is for a certain audience, don't read it if it doesn't interest you. I still think you're an alter.
Submitted by dr_weazel (user info) at 2006-06-11 22:43:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Jeesus fucking christ on a pogo stick. This series is so fucking boring.
Long, uninteresting and overly complicated crap. It's like the Sopranos, but even more shit.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-11 20:17:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by ConorJS (user info) at 2006-06-10 23:10:05 (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-10 17:37:22 (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by ConorJS (user info) at 2006-06-10 13:32:07 (#)
Ranking: -1
Others will +2 this. I, for one, can't get over all the fucking names. Carmine? No one is named Carmine, not even the Italianest of Italians. And every mick in this story had a name like Jimmy O'Houlihan.
Eh.
Kind of like recent episodes of the Sopranos, lot of characters, lot of shit happening, none of it important and none of it exciting.
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http://www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carmine_Galante
I'm keeping it true to my life. My family is very involved in the NYC Irish community, and most of the names are taken from real people I know.
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Exactly my point - the one person named Carmine is your stereotypical greasy Italian mobster.
And being from Southie, I know quite a few Irish people too, it's just that none of them have names like Terry McO'Shea.
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Raymond Ventry, Paddy Kelly, McMichael, Iggy Ciceri, Dan McCourt: real people, or composite names of real people. I know a Brecher, but it's more a German name. I don't think I went too over the top with the names, but I realized that Galantro and Galante sound a bit too alike.
Submitted by ConorJS (user info) at 2006-06-10 23:10:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-10 17:37:22 (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by ConorJS (user info) at 2006-06-10 13:32:07 (#)
Ranking: -1
Others will +2 this. I, for one, can't get over all the fucking names. Carmine? No one is named Carmine, not even the Italianest of Italians. And every mick in this story had a name like Jimmy O'Houlihan.
Eh.
Kind of like recent episodes of the Sopranos, lot of characters, lot of shit happening, none of it important and none of it exciting.
----
http://www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carmine_Galante
I'm keeping it true to my life. My family is very involved in the NYC Irish community, and most of the names are taken from real people I know.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Exactly my point - the one person named Carmine is your stereotypical greasy Italian mobster.
And being from Southie, I know quite a few Irish people too, it's just that none of them have names like Terry McO'Shea.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-06-10 21:37:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by The_Cyst_Master (user info) at 2006-06-10 19:32:14 (#)
Ranking: 2
The poop in my butt is really hard.
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Thanks for that tidbit. . .
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2006-06-10 20:50:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
excellent.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-10 19:33:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
YES
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-10 19:33:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Doodies (user info) at 2006-06-10 19:01:39 (#)
Ranking: 0
most of the names are taken from real people I know.
I'll bet they're thrilled.
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The ones that know.
Submitted by The_Cyst_Master (user info) at 2006-06-10 19:32:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The poop in my butt is really hard.
Submitted by Doodies (user info) at 2006-06-10 19:01:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
most of the names are taken from real people I know.
I'll bet they're thrilled.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-10 17:37:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by ConorJS (user info) at 2006-06-10 13:32:07 (#)
Ranking: -1
Others will +2 this. I, for one, can't get over all the fucking names. Carmine? No one is named Carmine, not even the Italianest of Italians. And every mick in this story had a name like Jimmy O'Houlihan.
Eh.
Kind of like recent episodes of the Sopranos, lot of characters, lot of shit happening, none of it important and none of it exciting.
----
http://www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carmine_Galante
I'm keeping it true to my life. My family is very involved in the NYC Irish community, and most of the names are taken from real people I know.
Submitted by professorfuckface (user info) at 2006-06-10 13:35:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
You should have had a character called Father O'Leary so I could have made an O'LRY pun, and oh how we all would have laughed, but you fucked up any chance of that happening
Submitted by ConorJS (user info) at 2006-06-10 13:32:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
Others will +2 this. I, for one, can't get over all the fucking names. Carmine? No one is named Carmine, not even the Italianest of Italians. And every mick in this story had a name like Jimmy O'Houlihan.
Eh.
Kind of like recent episodes of the Sopranos, lot of characters, lot of shit happening, none of it important and none of it exciting.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-06-10 13:30:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Don't be talkin' bad about long haired hippies. . . :)
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-10 13:26:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by professorfuckface (user info) at 2006-06-10 13:23:18 (#)
Ranking: 0
I thought the name was valve junior
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har har heart
Submitted by professorfuckface (user info) at 2006-06-10 13:23:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I thought the name was valve junior
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-10 13:13:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I thought I changed my name back...