you gotta do me a favor and go see Uncle Mimmo, he wonât know it was me who sent you, and that way weâre okay, because even if he squeals he donât got nothing to squeal about.â
Lou takes his feet off the desk, stands up, and paces the room, hands shoved in his pockets.
âDon Scali,â he says, turning suddenly, âIâm honored that you thought of me for a delicate matter like thisâ¦â
âI gotta tell your grandfather youâre a real good kid. I mean it ⦠a good kid, real respectful. But the thing I donât want,â Uncle Sal says, âthe thing I donât want is this Nick, whoâs got a guilty conscienceâthough I donât understand why heâs got a guilty conscience, seeing as how he was at the barbecue with usâdeciding to take a powder. Minchia, heâs a junkie, and junkies are nervous people, they scare easy. Letâs say the bum takes off, how would I look with the police? He takes off, and everybody ends up thinking it really was him, and then the police get wise, and they come to me and say, â Minchia, Don Scali, your nephewâs next-door neighbor kills a sergeant and, cock of the walk that you are, you donât know nothing about it? You donât know how to keep your own house in order?â In other words, Lou, itâs all about keeping the dogs on the leash! Which is why it will help me if you keep an eye on this Nick, at least until weâve made ourselves clear and persuaded him thereâs no reason to take off.â
âMy grandfather used to say that, too,â Lou says.
âKeep the dogs on the leash?â Uncle Sal says. âMy uncle used to say it ⦠when he was loading his gun.â
âNo ⦠cock of the walkâ¦â Lou says. âDon Scali, how do I get to know this Nick?â
âTonyâs throwing an engagement barbecue,â Uncle Sal says, âa barbecue everybody in the neighborhood will remember all their lives. Nick Palumboâs invited, since heâs the one getting engaged. Youâre invited, too. Tonyâs managed to get hold of some quail! Donât worry, thereâll be plenty of gin!â
JASMINE JUST SPENT HALF AN HOUR IN THE RED ROOM
Jasmine just spent half an hour in the red room of that pig Mr. Lewineâs Politics & Prose Bookstore, and has no desire to hear any of Frankâs bullshit.
âJasmine,â Frank Erraâs saying, âwhen you read, you look just like Meadow Soprano. Whaddaya think, Chaz, is she or isnât she just like Tony and Carmelaâs daughter?â
âMeadow Soprano, the spitting image,â Chaz says.
Jasmine doesnât bat an eyelid and carries on reading this fucking book, Sicily: Complete Guide to the Island, which had brought her into direct contact with that fat, circumcised bastard Lewine. When she asked him for a comprehensive guide to Sicily, the pig (the kind with a massive bald spot on top and long hair behind the ears, like two fucking brooms) pulled out half a dozen books: Midnight in Sicily, Ciao Sicily, Sweet Sicily, In Sicily, and other, similar crap. Then he told her there were others in the rare book section, known as the red room, ten feet by six and a half feet of paper and dust, rusty shelves, and a beat-up old desk. Lewine took out the books and handed them to her from behind, brushing against her, giving her what her mother, Ann Guardascione, used to call ânu passaggio. But Jasmine did leave with two books under her arm: Ciao Sicily by Damian Mandola, a book that mentions pasta with squash, fava beans, olives, and capersâAnn would have loved itâand this Complete Guide sheâs reading now to Frank.
ââThis square owes its baroque harmony to the buildings that surround it. In the middle, the fountain of the Elephant, symbol of the city, a contrast to the more discreet nineteenth-century Amenano fountain on the south side, set