CHAPTER  TWO:  WAR MIGHT BE HELL

   The Old Man worked hard, harder than most.  Some got a bit jealous, and that festered for a while.  His business grew, faster than the others, he was a bunch more aggressive than the others, he made acquaintances, people who controlled the community, people who nobody spoke about in public.  The Big City grew, and with it, the Old Man's business, the others trailed along.  Soon, the Old Man had the lion's share; the others had nice, well run organizations, they all made money, tons of money, raised their families, prospered and that seed, the vague idea, that envy took root.

     They, as a course of business, competed with the big boys, the National Brands, and in most cases came out on top, they were agile, the big boys bogged down with red tape, unwilling to do to the independents what the independents were doing to them.  The few remaining small timers were driven out of town, Ben Stein, the last of the lot, his hands stapled to the wall of his garage, his testicles attached to electrodes, finally with tears in his eyes, signed over his routes and the end of what had been a home grown business had arrived.

     The Old Man became powerful.  His contacts were like fingers touching many aspects of the Big City.  Tension arose.  Freddy Nococscia, himself just liberating one of the final no "fellas" routes, eyed the money and power residing with the Old Man.  He's got the goods, he's got the fuckin' town tied up and most of what we got is either crumbs he tosses away, or the little bits he lets slip through his fingers.  This, he thought, is bullshit.

     Fair is fair Freddy thought.

     Some of the others sided with Freddy, some with the Old Man, and for the next months and almost a year, the war to settle things once and for all was waged.

     Trucks were burned, buildings firebombed, a few guys, leading citizens in the trash business, somehow disappeared.  Wives and children were sent away to keep them safe.

     September rolled around, things were not good. Disruptions in service were causing large headaches to the politicians in town, many of whom were on the pad with the Old Man and his associates.  The citizens of the Big City were up in arms, and finally, the Mayor, his back to the wall, called a meeting, him and his corrupt deputies, and Phony Police chief with the Old Man and a few of his associates.

     "We got the people yellin' at us, we can't walk the fuckin' streets, people tossin' rotten food and tomatoes at us, I gotta' run to the fuckin' dry cleaners twice a day."

     "Mister Mayor, this is a situation not of our making."  The Old Man said, thinking, we pay you enough to BUY the fuckin' dry cleaners, stop the horseshit.

     "Well, you gotta' do something.  The streets are startin' to smell, the fuckin' restaurants, a few of which we own together, got garbage stacked likes bales of smelly cotton in front of the joints."

     "We will bring it to an end."  With that said, the Old Man stood, smiled, doffed his hat, slipped a small envelope to the Mayor, as he and his associates left the building.

     They went back to a safe house, somewhere near the water, an old, empty building, which one day would be a big, gleaming office tower, the Old Man's trash compactor in the basement.

     "Fuckin' Freddy's gone too fuckin' far."  Nunzio, an up and comer, spoke, a fat stogie in his big mouth.

     "This has to be settled, the crooks in City Hall are gettin' nervous, we can't have crooks gettin' nervous, they are apt to do stupid things."  The Old Man said.

     They sat, espresso was poured, Anisette sipped, a plan was hatched to end this war and bring, as the Old Man said, peace to the valley, so we can get back to doing what we do best.  They all knew what that was and they all smiled.

     They had a guy,a guy they used to settle big beefs, quietly, the beef going away pretty fast.  This guy, all six feet, three inches of him, sometimes drove a trash truck for the Old Man, but mostly hung out at the garage waiting for his number to be called.  They called his number.  This would be a big special they told him, a very special, very big deal.

     They explained to the guy what needed to be done.  He grasped the meaning and set about to finally cure the itch which had been driving everyone fuckin' nuts:  Freddy Nososcia.

     He recruited two helpers, the men who would later on father two very well established top earners, and "special assistants", Nick and Natch.

     The two men, dressed like cops, the uniforms stolen right under the nose of the Phony Police Chief, the bogus cops drove around town, looking for one of Freddy's trucks.  The guy, The Guy, waited, trailing the two "cops" as they cruised the streets, and finally, down near the water, a route truck, KING SANITATION, Freddy's outfit, backing up to a trash can, near the shipping office of some ocean line.

     The two "cops" rolled up behind the truck, and using the stolen police car, turned on the bubble light on the roof.  The KING SANITATION truck slowed down, the driver thinking, what the fuck, don't we pay off these clowns?  Not these.

    Using the bullhorn:  "STEP OUT OF THE TRUCK!"  The "cop" smiled, turned to his partner, these dumb shits have no fuckin' idea.

     The driver shut down the engine and slowly opened the look, looking at the police car.  "This better be good."

     The driver of the phony police car, the man who would one day become Nick's father, exited the car and walked over to the driver.  The other "cop" stepped out of the car, but stayed back, his hand on his pistol.

     "What's the beef, officer?"

     "Shut up."

     "Whoa, what the fuck?"

     "Who owns this truck?"

     "What, you from fuckin' Mars, yo don't know who belongs to this truck?"

     "Listen dip shit, we ain't got a lotta' time.  We got reports you guys sellin' dope outta' the back of this truck."

     "You're crazy.  We ain't got no dope."

     "We're gonna' find the fuck out."

     "I'm gonna' radio the boss,let him come down here, maybe you don't know who the fuck he is, Freddy Nocoscia?"

     "Yeah, get Freddy down here."

     The driver went back to the truck, sat down, grabbed the radio, got Freddy, told him what was happening, and Freddy never one to let moss grow on his stones, took off.  At the same time, The Guy rolled to a stop behind the truck.  The driver, tossing the radio onto the seat, slid out of the cab.  The route helper, sitting in the passenger seat was yanked out of it, The Guy stabbing him in the heart, then dragging his body to the rear of the truck, dumping the body into the hopper.

     The driver was thinking two thoughts, wait till these fucks run smack into Freddy, and second, where the Hell is Jose?  The driver found out where the Hell Jose was, having just landed there himself, his heart punctured, his lifeless body tossed into the hopper as well.

     Benny rolled up, eyed the two cops, not seeing The Guy, who was now standing on the side of the KING SANITATION truck.

     "Hey!  Assh-"  The bullet slammed into Freddy's mouth, teeth flying, the shot tumbled around, cascading into his brain, severing nerve endings, blood exploding from the wound.  The two "Cops" dragged Freddy to the rear of the truck, and tossed him inside as well, joining his workers in a union of repose.  The man who would one day be Natch's father, ripped off his police uniform, jumped into the KING SANITATION truck and drove away, the sweep blade in the hopper gliding the three stiffs into the rear of the truck, mixing well with the collected trash.

     The KING SANITATION truck was taken to the waters edge, a pier on the west side.  The hopper was raised, and the blade pushed out the accumulated trash, which included Freddy and his two employees into the river, the current taking the entire mess, bodies included, upstream, as the mass of stuff slowly sunk beneath the waves.

     The KING SANITATION truck was taken to the Old Man's shop, where quickly it was taken apart, bolt by bolt, steel beam and steel beam, and turned into spare parts.

     About a week later, with peace in the valley, papers were signed, and KING SANITATION was split apart, acquired by the other owners.  A large dinner was held to celebrate, everyone was happy, peace had returned, and Freddy was fish food, which everyone enjoyed, since on the menu that night was fresh seafood.


Next:  CHAPTER THREE:  NICK AND NATCH.