I was waiting for almost an hour in the empty parking lot before Vito showed up. He pulled up in a maroon Rolls Royce wearing a trench coat and holding an envelope. “Is that this week’s cut?” I asked. I tried to keep tough, but the tone in my voice made him think I was scared.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It was a good week. They seem to really like to throw their money on the Yankees.” I followed Vito as he started walking. “You’re one of the new guys, right?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Alphonse Franzese.”

“Alphonse. So tell me, Al, why the hell aren’t you wearing a coat out here?”

“It’s not too bad out here. I’ve faced colder temperatures in Massachusetts.”

“So you’re a Southie kid, ain’t you?”

“No, I’m from Worcester. It’s just an hour away.” Things were quiet until we got to Bryant Park. We stopped over by one of the park benches and Vito turned away. “Where are you going?”

“I’m dropping this off to Angelo. You’re gonna keep going and do a patrol of the neighborhood.”

“Okay.” I started to feel a bit of a chill and flinched.

“You cold or scared?”

“Just the breeze.” He walked away and I began going through my route. Even though New England has helped to thicken my skin, I did get a little bit of a chill. In order to keep calm and warm, I had a smoke while I walked. I was nervous in the way that this was first job since I was made. Overall, the night was quiet aside from the cars driving by. I didn’t pay any mind until I spotted something dash in front of me. Out of curiosity, I started to follow it. The closer I got to it, I was able to make a faint picture in my head of what I was chasing. It was a small animal.

I was walking faster around every turn. Every step matched every time my heart beat in an intense tempo. Eventually, I stopped to catch my breath and got a good look at what I was chasing. It was this small cat that was standing under the street light. After I took my break, I followed the cat. But this time, my footsteps were much softer in order not to scare it off. When I got close to an alley, the cat dashed down the alleyway. I looked behind me and saw a car stop in front of me. Three men got out of the car; I ran down the alley and they chased after me. There was a door in front of me and I leapt to reach for the handle. Son of a bitch, I thought while yanking at it. The damn door is locked.

Suddenly, two of the guys grabbed my arms and the other one stood in front of me. He had a scar below his left eye and was wearing a black fedora. “What are you doing here, kid?” he asked.

“Going for a walk,” I answered. I don’t remember if I was nervous, but I tried not to show it.

“At this late of an hour?”

“Hey Angelo, I remember seeing this kid,” the guy on my left said. “This kid was hanging around one of Casso’s places.”

“Scarpa heh? What’s your name kid?”

I didn’t say anything. The guy on my right hit me and ordered, “Answer him you disrespectful prick?”

“Al Franzese,” I answered. I kept stern as he walked close to me.

“Al, huh? Fitting that we find Al in an alley.” He looked down at a few of the trash cans and saw the cat. “This must be your alley cat, Al. Al ‘Alley Cat’ Franzese.” Angelo pulled out a revolver. “Pray that you have nine lives too, Alley cat.” Screech! Before Angelo could pull the trigger, one of his guys must’ve stepped on the cat’s tail and distracted him.

The guy on my right lost his grip on my arm and I pushed the other one into the wall. As I was reaching for my gun, I grabbed a broken piece of a brick and bludgeoned Angelo with it. I whipped my gun out while he was down, pistol whipped him twice, and shot him. Bang! While turning toward the other two, one of them shot me in the shoulder. Even though it hurt for me to aim, I was able to kill them; one in the head, the other one slightly above the heart. I put my gun away and walked back to the park, putting pressure on my shoulder. Some guy came by to see what had happened. “What the fuck happened?” he asked.

I pulled out a couple hundred dollar bills I had and answered, “Some guys got scratched by an alley cat.”