My little Christmas story, Page 3

About that same time, in upstate New York

  In the middleclass section of town sirens wail in the distance, coming closer as screams and shouts split the cold air. A local boy has been hit while trying out his new bicycle, by a man that's known to have several drunk driving arrests, though somehow, because of his money or position, he skates from any serious charges, and keeps his license. The women stay with the boy, he's hurt, but should be okay, mostly it's just a broken leg and some bruises, they think, but won't be sure until the doctors can take a good look.

  The men of the area, most of them fathers, are dragging Julian Gordano, the half-drunk driver of the fancy Cadillac into an old warehouse that's been empty for years. The father of the boy that got hit is being kept away from the man by some of the others, for now. They're not vigilantes, they believe every man should get a fair trial, but in this case they have to make sure the trial is fair, not one sided with this guy having the fancy lawyers and big money against one overworked and underpaid assistant district attorney, this time the local assistant district attorney and neighborhood resident Daniel Monahan gets the unenviable duty of defending this guy, just so he has somebody to speak for him, the man they're dragging can't speak for himself, his jaw is swollen, likely broken, they didn't drag the father off him right away.

  The area's ombudsman, Mickey Salvatino, calls the men to some semblance of order. "All right, settle down, we're gonna do this right, or we're not doing it at all." The men quiet down. "Okay, who saw what happened?" Seven men raise their hands. "Okay, Tommy, tell it the way you saw it, nothing but the truth now, don't add anything you didn't really see."

  "All right Mickey. I was watchin' little Joey learnin' to ride his bike on the sidewalk, his dad was right there teachin' him how. This guy drove his fancy car down the street too fast, swerved, jumped the curb, and hit little Joey. Lucky for Joey, he didn't hit him straight on, it was a glancing blow that knocked him into some snow-covered bushes. That's when big Joey dragged his sorry butt out of the Caddy and commenced wailin' on his ass."

  Mickey nods, he saw it too, but in his role in the community, he has to appear somewhat impartial, just to keep things on the up and up. "Any of the rest of you see anything different?" They all shake their heads no. "Daniel, what've you got to say on his behalf?"

  "Aw come on Mickey, don't make me defend this puke, my heart's not in it."

  "Your disgust is duly noted, say something on his behalf."

  "Let me see, um… well, Mr. Gordano will be willing to make restitution, pay for the medical care, the bike, all that." Scared as he can be, Gordano nods up and down as adamantly as his busted jaw will let him.

  "I don't think that's going to cut it this time, you know this guy is responsible for ruining a lot of lives, little Joey is lucky in a way, lucky that he didn't get killed. Had that happened, we wouldn't be having this conversation at all. No, I find him guilty, and no amount of money buys his way out of it this time. A suitable punishment is what? We're no band of murderers, though I can't say it wouldn't be justifiable to kill this scumbucket."

  Big Joey speaks up, "Let me at him for a while, the rest of you won't have to be involved."

  Mickey shakes his head, "No Joey, we already are involved, and we don't want you becoming a murderer either. Any body got a fitting punishment?"

  A small man, but one well known by these not so gentle men steps over to whisper in Mikey's ear. The small man is the local grocer, he's well respected and loved in this community, since he'll give credit to local families when times are bad, and he or his store helps out with everything they can in the community, whether it's raising funds for the schools, helping out at the local shelter or anything else the community supports. By the time he's done whispering in Mickey's ear, Mickey is smiling. Mickey calls four guys over, talks to them quietly, then the four leave quickly, they now have something important to do on this Christmas day.

  Mickey speaks up, "Okay guys, drag this guy with you, we're going to meet for sentencing out at the old rock quarry. Leave your weapons home, you won't need them."

  An hour later, the men are again assembled atop a narrow ridge that crosses between two deep holes where stone for important buildings in New York City and other places was once quarried. An old heap of a car is parked in front of them the engine is running, it seems to run well for an old heap. Two of the four men that Mickey detailed earlier are letting Gordano have all the whiskey he wants to drink. Not easy to do with a broken jaw, but the pain makes him want it more than ever. They let him down two whole bottles worth of the cheap whiskey. Since he can't stand up any more, so they put him behind the wheel of the old heap. One of the men gives him one more bottle, already open.

  Mickey nods, these guys step away from the old car as Mickey leans close, he speaks loudly, "This car still runs great, it's your only way out, start driving and don't stop, if we catch you, we kill you, you've got three minutes head start." Gordano pulls the door shut. He doesn't bother to look for such a thing as seat belts, there aren't any in this car now anyway, since they've been cut out. Gordano is too drunk to notice these men have no vehicles handy to follow him in, they parked down the road a bit. He puts the car in gear, then lays his foot down on the gas pedal.

  As the crowd of men watches, the car fishtails from side to side, but to their astonishment, Gordano makes it across the narrow portion left between the two quarry sites. He nearly spins out as he gets to the other side where it's soft gravel, but somehow manages to right the car. The car picks up speed as it moves forward. Gordano doesn't see the next pit coming, the car is in the air before he has any idea what's happening. The old car sails well out into the pit, if Gordano had a ramp to get some altitude, the sucker might have made it to the other side. As it is, the car plows straight into a rock wall, then bursts into flames, as Mickey knew it would, it had a few adjustments made to make sure of that.

  The wreckage falls to the quarry floor, the gas tank ruptures, the gas goes up with a loud whump sound. The men above stand there looking, knowing that it was right, and just, but having a hand in it doesn't set right with any of them, they're good men, so it shouldn't, but sometimes good men have to fight evil, even if it means they have to commit evil to do it.

  All but Mickey walk back to their vehicles without a word spoken, they probably never will speak of this. Mickey stands and watches the wreck burn, until the fire burns itself out. "Serves you right, you sorry bastard, I just wish we'd had the nerve to take care of you years ago, when you killed my friend Henry. I suppose I should let his family know you're taken care of, finally. No, perhaps not, I best leave that lie, too many questions might get asked." Mickey walks to his car slowly, not feeling good about what they did, but he does feel justice, true justice, was served for once.