Chapter 2

Ed was pissed at George again. As usual, he'd asked Georgie ol' boy to address a certain problem at the worksite, and it still hadn't been taken care of. They both worked at Perkins' and Sons, a local hog slaughtering plant, or at least a hog killing plant. Not much was made of the butchering skills here. The idea was to knock 'em, bleed 'em and toss the fuckers on the reefer truck at the entrance to that big dock door over there. The quicker they filled the truck, the faster they could shut that cocksuckin' door. It was freezing outside, and freezing inside. Ed reached into his pockets and felt for his stash. Had to make sure it was still there. 'like a nigga feelin' for his own package', he thought to himself, but he had to just keep touching it. And being consolled. Ed had saved up for this small eighth of the chronic and was not about to be running his mouth at work that he had it on him. Fuckers in here would be all over him to smoke his stash right there at work. Ed hated that.

In fact, he hated a lot about this fucking shitpit of a meat plant. And the scary thing was, he'd been warned all about it before he took the job as foreman. His brother George, who at the moment was still fucking predisposed, worked here for three years before Ed came aboard. That gave Georgie boy just enough time to screw things up entirely. It was taking a lot to undo some of the shit his own brother was responsible for, but this was nothing new. Nothing new at all.

Nobody ever had the balls to cross ol man Lavechio. The Lavechios ran all the gambling, all the whores, all the drugs and all the booze when that was illegal. For the whole town. Nobody did any business unless 'Lavec had his cut. He was known as a prick's prick. This guy never had a nice thing to say about anybody. The business front was a massive fucking junkyard that stretched out over several miles of hills, right there next to the highway, heading up towards Binghamton. If you wanted a part, Lavechio's would have it, at least that's what their Ad said. Trouble was, whenever you actually wanted or needed a part, like say, a starter for a 75 Dodge, or a simple Tie-rod for the Plymouth, you'd call, and be put on hold, and you'd get the runaround. Or they'd somehow never be able to locate it for you. You'd get sick of waiting, and try someone else down the road. It was like nobody even worked there. They just brought junk cars in, and let them set there. Who knew what was going on in that junkyard. They were probably burying bodies, for all Ed knew.

Sylvester 'Red' Burns, was the eldest of the burns clan from over on Brogan street. The guy was 68 years old, and still nobody fucked with him. Not in an argument, and not in a fist fight, cuz Red would kick your ass in either. Red was just too damn quick and too damn smart for you. Red was the first guy in Miners to highjack a truck, and this was back when it was unheard of in the borrough.

The summer of '54, Red Burns got the bright idea he was gonna highjack a truck, and get away with it. He waited, watching the pattern night after night, studying, and staying out of sight. Red never told anyone about his plan either. He just studied the patterns, and with a bit of luck, practically stumbled upon the perfect crime. Red just walked up to the truck, just as the driver was getting out, and entering the check in booth. Red had watched this go on for three weeks, without a change in the itinerary. Driver hops out, meets his buddy, they walk towards the back room, smoking a cigarette, wihtout a care in the world. Red seized the moment, hopped up in the cab and simply drove off, without a soul seeing what went down. Except maybe one.

Next day, Lavechio's people were dragging the streets looking for the guys who had the balls to highjack a truck under the old man's nose. But they had no idea who would have dared to do it. It had to be somebody from the outside. Somebody who just didn't know how big a deal this was. And when they found out who this somebody was, that somebody was fucked.

Ed suddenly remembered another time he'd seen Sonny like this. Even though everyone considerd Sonny a 'retard' and nobody took him serious, Ed would now and then see a look in his eyes that showed the guy had something going on that none of us knew about. Like he was in on something special, and was putting everyone on with his 'handicap'. He had that same knowing look in his eyes the time he saw Father Burns run over by the soda truck. Father Burns was one of Red's younger brother, one of three who became priests, and the 5th of 9 kids. Ed was only about 9 then. But he saw it. Saw Tony the soda man drive right around that corner like he always did, double tires cutting over some of the flattened curb out in front of Kozich's Market. Riding that outside corner like some fantastic base runner stealing third and heading for home. Sometimes if it had rained, Tony would splash mud up and over half the gravel parkway in front of the market. Once, Georgie came home all out of breath, explaining how Tony hit that big puddle just in time and he got a lady soaking wet coming out of Kozich's. They all had a good laugh over that.

Tony always drove the soda truck around the corner of Oliver and Main streets the same way, every day, at the same time. Ed and George and Billy Margalis and Kozemko would just be coming out of Kozich's with their hands and pockets stuffed full of gum, candy, baseball cards and a soda. The gum sticks, 'big buddy's, were shaped like a big stick of juicy fruit, only these were a foot long, way fatter and just gigantic. Ed wondered how they even managed to eat one of those fuckers back then. But they'd think nothing of blowing through about 5 a day if they had it to chew. Scary.

So one summer day, for some stupid reason, just as Tony came barrelling down the road getting ready to deliver that big payoff, (it had been raining off and on all morning, creating a huge puddle right there in front), Father Burns of all people just had to pick that very minute to cross over to Kozich's Market. Crossing the street so he could talk to us. Me and Georgie and Kozemko. What was he coming over to tell us though? Did we do something bad? Was he gonna tell us have our Ma call him later, where he'd fill her in on how horrible we were at Mass on Sunday? Or about what little monsters we were and didn't we need more disipline in the house now that the old man had died? Who knew what he wanted, but he was coming over, and fast. Jesus, what did this fucking priest want?

It couldn't be good, Ed decided. George was there looking scared shitless, certain that he was the guilty party. Kozemko was always on the shit list, so really, it coulda been anything. And Ed remembered looking across the street behind Father Burns. Ed could see the bushy haired local retard "Sonny" there behind him, talking to himself a mile a minute, as usual, and with this real peculiar look on his face, like he knew what was about to happen. And Ed could hear Tony coming down main street now, and he could see Father Burns walking across the street towards them, gesturing and talking about god knows what and suddenly Tony was there driving right past the spot Ed and Koz and Georgie had stood waiting at, establishing it earlier as the 'brink' of the safety zone. Ed braced himself for the inevitable collision as Tony gave a last second honk of his big soda truck horn and there was Father Burns, flying, literally, into the air, and down the street. I mean, to watch a man literally lifted up in the air and tossed like that. It was as if God himself had picked up ol' Burnsey and flown him like a paper airplane down the street to in front of Granny Walton's candy store. Ed would continue to wonder for a long time what Father Burns the guy who knew God better than all of us combined, wanted that day he was crossing the street and got run over by Tony in the big soda truck.