Link to Chapter 1

Joe paces in the creaky express elevator as it takes him to the 75th floor. He is in Manhattan going to see his child spit dealer, the one man he knows that has access to the precious liquid. It was just a month ago that Joe discovered the delicious mixture of child spit and tears, and immediately he knew that he could make a lot of money selling it. Maybe even enough money to finally make his brother jealous of him!

The elevator arrives and Joe knocks on the door of his dealer’s penthouse. The last time he was here his dealer looked ill. Riddled with the gay disease, Joe thought, but the man still had the best child spit in Manhattan.

A tall blonde twenty-something year old man opens the door. He has long flowing hair and the remnants of last night’s makeup cover a subtle 5 o’clock shadow.

“Is Jimmy here?” Joe asks.

“Who you?” the young man says with a strong accent and a deep booming voice that reminds Joe of Clay’s voice, his third favorite character on Sons of Anarchy. Goddamn that show was great, he thinks to himself.

“I’m Joe, he’s expecting me.”

From inside the apartment Brother Joe hears Jimmy’s voice, “Alena who is that?”

“Old fat man. Dressed like biker.” he says and then looks at Brother Joe, “Halloween not for another five months.”

Jimmy appears behind Alena, “oh baby, stop giving him a hard time.” Jim’s face is gaunt and pale, and he has lost a lot of weight. He’s dressed in a white robe and walks with a cane. Joe can tell that Jimmy is very weak.

“Get yourself in here you big ol’ lummox,” Jimmy says and hugs Joe as he enters. Joe cringes as they embrace, I hope I don’t catch anything.

The apartment is wide and open. Tall windows from floor to ceiling allow the afternoon sun to illuminate every inch. On every wall there are pictures hanging. Pictures of Ozzy Osbourne, pictures from Jimmy's old days in radio, and more than any others, pictures of Alena in women’s clothing.

“Joe, I’ve been a naughty boy. I didn’t introduce you to my lovely fiancee. Joe, Alena. Alena, Joe.”

Joe meets Alena’s eyes. “Halloween is in October,” she says and walks away.

“She’s a firecracker, ain’t she?” Jimmy says and watches Alena walk away.

Joe and Jimmy walk into the living room and Jimmy takes a seat in a large chair. His small frame looks funny in the large recliner and reminds Joe of the times that he and Anthony would sit in Joe Senior’s chair as kids while his mother, Ro, was in the kitchen making spaghetti. “Don’t sit in your father’s chair boys! Or you’ll be in trouble when he gets home!” she would tell them.

Joe sits on the couch across from Jimmy.

“So, do you have it?” Jimmy asks.

Joe is confused. “Have what?”

Jimmy coughs. “My money, do you have my money?”

Several months ago Joe began purchasing child spit from Jimmy on credit. At first Joe thought that “on credit” meant that his brother Anthony would pay for it. Only after Anthony refused did Joe realize he now had his own debt to New York’s largest dealer of child spit.

“I’ll get it, I’ll get it, I swear. The band is doing really great and I’ve got some gigs coming up. You’ll get your money, I promise.”

Alena walks over and sets down a tray of drinks on the table between Joe and Jimmy. Jimmy leans forward and grabs a cup filled with what looks like steaming hot tea.

“Of course you will, Joe, of course you will,” Jimmy says and coughs again.

“Look, I came here to talk to you about something I think could be really big for the both of us. You see, the other day I discovered that mixing child spit with tears makes it even better. I think if we could find a reliable source of tears, then we could really be onto something big.”

“Wow Joe,” Jimmy says almost sarcastically and sips his tea.

Joe continues, “I’m telling you Jimmy, this was so delicious and these were just my tears. I think if we started mixing child tears with…”

“One second,” Jimmy says holding up his hand to stop Joe. He gets up and slowly walks over to the kitchen where Alena now stands at the island counter looking past the living room and staring blankly out the large windows.

“Did I tell you the story of how Alena and I met, Joe?” Jimmy asks.

“Uh.. no.”

“You see, it’s funny. We met on this website and it was love at first sight. I even flew all the way to Europe to meet her! Oh boy was that a story! It was like from out of a romance novel, Joe. We couldn’t be separated, we were so in love. There was only one problem, she wasn’t allowed in the United States. Can you believe that shit?” Jimmy’s voice rises and he slams his fist on the counter. Joe shifts in his seat starting to get a little nervous.

“You see, Joe, she had some problems from her younger days, and in America, we don’t look too kindly to that sort of thing.” Jimmy lets out a big sigh and continues, “I don’t know man, that’s a tough one. You don’t want to let bad people in the country but not everyone who commits a crime is a bad person. Know what I mean, Joe?”

“Yeah, Jimmy, I know what you mean,” Joe lies.

“But when you’re in love Joe, you’re not going to let something like silly immigration laws stop you from being happy, now are you? So do you know what we did?”

Joe watches Jimmy standing next to Alena. At least 8 inches taller than Jimmy, Alena leans down and Jimmy whispers something in her ear.

“Do you know what we did Joe? We had to steal someone’s identity. That’s right. Now, I know what you’re thinking, whose identity did we steal?”

Alena walks over to the couch and stands directly behind Joe. Jimmy takes careful steps with his cane and slowly makes his way back to the recliner.

“I’m sorry Joe, but I’ve grown quite weary these days,” Jimmy says and begins to cough loudly and uncontrollably. After a minute, he regains his breath.

“Do you know how many homeless people there are in New York City, Joe? Hundreds. Probably thousands. And when one of them disappears, no one even notices. All I had to do was find some homeless person close to Alena’s age and well, let’s just say Alena is still adjusting to life in America. And the person whose identity we took? Well, Joe, they just disappeared. Poof! Into thin air.”

Just then Alena wraps a strong muscular arm around Joe’s neck and he feels a hard metal object pressed up against his head.

“Do you want to fucking disappear Joe?” Jimmy yells.

“Jimmy, I’ll get you your money!”

Jimmy throws the hot tea on Joe’s face and it scolds him. Alena’s grip around Joe’s neck becomes tighter.

“Do you want Alena to rape you, Joe? Do you want to spend the last remaining hours of your sad pathetic life getting raped by MY GIRLFRIEND?”

“No… I..”

“Then you’ll get my money, Joe. You’ll get my fucking money!”

Alena pulls the trigger to the gun pressed against Joe’s head and Joe hears the hard clicking sound. She releases the grip from Joe’s neck and he falls to his knees on the ground and begins to cry, “please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me.”

Jimmy kneels on the ground beside Joe and puts a small glass under Joe’s face to catch some of the tears. “Don’t worry Joe, I’m not going to kill you,” he says and pats Joe on his back. “Yet.”

After a few minutes, Joe begins to collect himself while Jimmy takes the glass filled with tears into the kitchen. On the counter is a small wine rack filled with bottles of child spit. “Let’s see what this is Joe’s talking about, shall we Alena?”

Jimmy grabs a bottle.

“Vintage 2014, your favorite, right Joe? There’s just something about the preschooler tears.” Jimmy pours a small amount into the glass that contains Joe tears and swirls it around in his hand like a sommelier. He takes a sip and Joe can tell from the look on his face that he likes it. Jimmy hands the glass to Alena who takes a sip and nods.

“Well I’ll be a tranny's meal-ticket but I think the big dummy Joe Cumia might be onto something.”