Act 1

Chapter 1: The Line

Marie’s words landed with a punch.

“Elaine…I…need to make some money. I’m so broke…in so many ways.” Marie’s raw, dire voice traveled along the copper telephone lines of the Lower East Village and projected 369 miles west across New York State to the Cheektowaga home of her dearest friend, Elaine Stec, in the fall of 1969.

The words flowed into Elaine’s ear as she peeked through the sheer curtains covering the picture window. Headlights illuminated Trudy Lane as a gold car, glittering in the streetlamp, pulled into the Stecs’ driveway.

Elaine’s fingers fumbled with the buckle of her black heels. She fixed her sweeping bangs that obscured her left eye. Elaine was twenty-one and restless; she yearned to be free of the tiny house and the childhood bedroom, an outgrown cocoon. If Marie returned from New York City, they could share an apartment, maybe the one with the large porch on Richmond Ave. And she wouldn’t have her mother looming over her, with her constant questions and probing glances.

“Of course, Marie, I got you. There’s a big banquet on Monday, lots of money, important men, and good opportunities. They need girls for cocktails, or you can bartend with me. All that wedding service we did, you’ll be fine.” Elaine heard Gino’s engine in the driveway. Her stomach fluttered.

“Marie, are you still there?” She heard Marie sobbing with short, abrupt breaths. “Really?” Marie sputtered out.

Why Marie’s words landed with a punch.

“Don’t worry. Ma’s making meatloaf and prepping the sewing room for you. You’ll be fine. Forget New York, Buffalo wants you. I want you! I can’t wait to see you.”

“ELAINE!” shouted her mother, Eleanor, from the sewing room.

“Sorry, Ma!” Elaine yelled into the air and rolled her eyes before she spoke into the receiver, “Listen, I gotta go. Gino just pulled into the driveway. He’s taking me to Salvatores with Susie and Stan. I’ll see you Sunday.”

“Yes, okay,” Marie said.
“Marie, it will be okay! I promise. They’re here. Va-le.” “Okay, Va-le, thank you, Elaine, Va-le.”

Elaine’s mother’s pitchy voice entered the room just before she did. “You girls and your Latin. Take your coat, Elaine. It’s going to get cold tonight!” Eleanor seized the phone before Elaine could hang up. She pressed the receiver against her chest as Elaine left the kitchen.

Elaine walked to the closet and selected a short black mink coat. Gino gave it to her on their only date. A smile touched her lips; he would love to see her wear it. The jet-black fur made her blue eyes sparkle.

Her bobbed haircut framed her face, perched upon her thin neck. She clutched her leather pocketbook from the bureau just as the grandfather clock rang seven chimes.

Everything was happening at once: college, her love life, and now, with Marie’s return, she could finally move out. This was her chance.

“Bye, MA,” Elaine shouted.

“Bye, honey. Be careful!” Her mother pressed the phone against her ear. “Marie, are you there, Marie?”

A rustling knocking amplified from the receiver.

“Yes! I’m here!” shouted Marie.

“Marie, we can’t wait to see you. Marie, honey, I don’t like this, Gino. He seems too old for Elaine. I think he’s trouble. When you return, can you talk some sense into her?”

A female voice interrupted their call, “This is the operator. Your call will be disconnected in 30 seconds unless you deposit 10 cents for the next 5 minutes.”

“Oh, Mrs. Stec, it’s so good to hear your voice. Oh, I will, I’ll talk to her, I will, I can’t wait to see you.”

“See you then.” Eleanor straightened the orange phone cord and hung up. A slam echoed from the screen door. “Gotta get Walter to fix that,” Eleanor muttered.

***

A surge of excitement washed over Elaine when the cool night air rushed against her face. Soon she would travel to a different world full of glamour and adventure.

She observed her friend, Susie, sitting in Gino’s Caddy. Susie, young and sultry, rolled down the back window. The wind flitted her red hair up against her alabaster face. Susie shouted to her boyfriend, Stanley, “Get back in, here comes Elaine!”

Stanley looked at a lone apple hanging from the large tree on the front lawn. “Ji-ik-do,” he exclaimed as he plucked it from the branch.

“What are you saying?” Susie rolled her green eyes. Stanley took a bite, gnashing the small apple in his teeth before spitting it out. “Crab apples. This area used to be full of them. Jiik-do-wah-gah – Cheektowaga, land of the crab apple.”

“In what language does that mean crap apple?” Susie’s lips curled upward.

“Iroquian.” Stanley returned to the car, leaned in through the open window, and gently kissed Susie.

Stanley dropped the apple from his hand, and it rolled toward Gino. Gino corrected his posture and checked the loose button on his tailored coat. He strolled up the walkway and stopped. He stretched his hand holding a dozen roses toward Elaine.

His pomaded hair shimmered midnight blue. He was handsome, with a chiseled jaw and stormy eyes.

“You look gorgeous in that fur. Take it off and put it back on. I love the reveal of a collarbone.” His voice was smooth but rushed, aged by decades of smoking and quick talking.

Elaine obliged. A man had never given her such gifts. “Thanks, many lives were sacrificed for it.” She unbuttoned the fur, revealing her structured neckline.

“Oh, that’s what I like about you, Elaine. You’re a real firecracker. You’ve got some good lines, lady. Here, let me get the car door for you.” He sniffed her neck as she whipped the mink back upon her shoulders.

“Ah, you got me. You smell like lilies.” He inhaled deeper. “Is that the Chanel perfume I had delivered for you?”

“Yes, it is,” she quickly responded. “Oh Gino, the perfume, coat, roses, you’re showering me with gifts.”

Gino opened the door, and Elaine slid inside. The girls chatted as they drove into the city.

But Stan slumped down in the passenger seat and was silent; his eyes looked into the distance.

Gino snarled, “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so quiet tonight?”

“Well, with all that’s going on, I know Sammy is gonna want me to…” Stanley replied.

Gino interrupted, “Yeah, yeah, we all have to go to college sometime. Snap out of it, Stan. You think you’re special. And don’t talk about that stuff in front of her or these fine ladies.”

“What do you mean, her?” Susie exclaimed. “She knows all about Stanley.”

“Oh yeah.” Gino snarled.

Silence surfaced while the occasional light flashed across Susie’s and Elaine’s faces. Susie filled the void by defending Elaine.

“Gino, she’s not a good girl. Remember, Elaine, we were stranded in Canada. Together, we stole that can of gas to get back over the border.” Susie looked to Elaine for support.

“How could I forget?” Elaine sat back, rolled her eyes.

She remembered the smell of gasoline and the clicking of the gas meter, the police’s voices, and the smell of urine in the jail cell. Susie escaped while Elaine attended a hearing in Canada. Eleanor even fainted in the courtroom, breaking her glasses. It was such a production.

“Never got caught, thanks to you.” Susie shook Elaine’s leg.
Gino looked in the mirror. “You took the rap for her? Kept your mouth shut?”

Elaine locked eyes with Gino’s reflection, searching for a gleam of approval. By the smile lines forming around his eyes, she could tell he was pleased. She exhaled, relaxing in her leather seat.

Chapter 2: Amapola
Gino’s car keys flew through the air, and the valet caught them with a calloused hand. “You got it, sir.”

The two couples strolled into the Italian-marbled restaurant. The aroma of garlic and basil, coupled with the dimly lit sconces, created a cozy atmosphere. Gino knew everyone they passed, and he made sure everyone knew him. Young men greeted him with puffed chests, and he paid his older friends respect with a long hug and a light kiss on the cheek. 
The hostess, dressed in black, led them through the middle of the busy dining room. “Here is your table.”

“No, I want to sit over there.” He pointed to a table against a wall.

“That table’s reserved,” the girl said.

“Yeah, for me.” Gino strutted to the table he wanted and sat in the chair he desired after he pulled out the golden wooden chair for Elaine. Elaine caught the hostess’s eye, tilting her head in apology. The hostess smiled back and dealt out the menus. Elaine, annoyed by Gino’s dismissiveness, disengaged from the restaurant’s atmosphere. Looking around, she noticed the other guests’ lavish dresses and three-piece suits.

Susie kept going on about the Bills. She loved football. It was hard not to be in this town. The tension dissolved when the aroma of warm bread reached the table.

“Good evening, we have some delicious cocktails tonight. Can I interest you in a wonderful Harvey Wall…”

Gino interrupted the waiter, “Bring us your finest bottle of champagne. Get whatever you like to eat, ladies.”

Elaine noticed a Roman column sketched on the menu. She bit her lip as she read the descriptions of dishes such as roast Long Island duckling and broiled lamb chops with mint jelly. Elaine had served these types of meals before, but never had the chance to choose. She wrapped her ankles around the chair legs, considering her options and imagining how each dish would taste. However, when the waiter returned before she could open her mouth, Gino said, “She will have – the surf and turf – medium. And I’ll have the steak pizzaiola. Let’s get a round of calamari for the table.”

Elaine unwrapped her ankles. “I can order for myself, Gino.”

Susie nudged Elaine under the table; Stanley smirked. Gino let out a “huh” and shook his head.

“Oh, but it’s the most expensive thing on the menu. Come on, just oblige me, sweetheart,” his sweeping tone continued, lulling her into his orbit.

Elaine acquiesced, handing her menu to the waiter. How dare he order for her? She was perfectly capable of choosing her meal, but she didn’t want to cause a scene. It was only their second double date, and she did like Gino. He was gorgeous, dark and handsome, with swagger, and his alluring prestige was consuming.

After dinner, the foursome moved to the bustling bar, where live music filled the air. Elaine felt the upright bass beat in her stomach, and the piano flowing behind the jazz singer’s hazy harmonic voice, an enticing melody.

The men leaned against the maroon leather bar, which matched the walls. Stanley took a puff from his cigarette; the cherry flared before he flicked the ashes into the ashtray. “Bills gotta

beat the Jets Sunday. I’ve got a thousand riding with Sonny. I can’t get back any further with him and Babe; I can’t get any deeper in debt. He’ll find me anywhere, even in prison.”

“You shouldn’t get involved with those games. And don’t think like that. You don’t know what the boss is gonna say or do.” Gino straightened his jacket, which he wore over a black turtleneck. Stan stood up from the stool; he towered over everyone. Under his tan coat was a moss-green shirt that matched Susie’s eyes. He offered his seat to another woman, and Susie clung closer to him. She pulled a long cigarette from her crimson leather pouch and lit it. Gino diverted his attention back to Elaine, smiling, hypnotized by the music and upscale ambiance. “Elaine, you’re working with Susie at the party on Monday night, right?” Gino asked.

“Yes, of course.”

“Everyone will be there—businessmen, politicians, lawyers, judges, some of those football players Stan mentioned. The next day is Veterans Day.”

“Oh yeah,” Susie interrupted, “that’s why this stag is happening on a Monday.”

Gino looked at Stanley, and Stanley grabbed Susie’s arm.

“So everyone has the day off. The Clam Man got us the best steaks and seafood in town. Better than that overcooked piece of steak I sent back. And get this, Stan, I had to get a hold of that belly dancer Tullah. What a character this woman is.”

Stanley shook his head, looking down into his hands.

“Elaine’s going to work at the bar with you, Susie.” He winked. “You know the owner, RoseMarie. “It should be a good night.”

Seizing the opportunity, Elaine asked, “Gino, can I bring my friend to work the party too? Is that all right?” Her chin dipped slightly, and her eyes widened.

Gino leaned in, touching her leg. “Anything for you, love, anything.”

The Bill Maggio Trio played “Amapola” in the lounge. Gino took Elaine’s hand, guiding her to the small dance floor. He twirled her, and Elaine welcomed his hand upon her waist. He looked into her eyes. “You look very pretty, Elaine. You’re the most beautiful woman here. Oh, those eyes—I get lost in those blue eyes.” He sang into her ear, “Amapola, pretty little Polack.”

Elaine pulled back slightly. “Oh, Gino.” Her nose wrinkled. “Do you even know what ‘amapola’ means?”

“What?” he said.

“Amapola?” she repeated.

“What?” he asked again.

“Am-a-po-la, pretty little poppy. ‘Amapola’ means poppy. Am I your pretty little poppy?” Elaine asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

Elaine’s wit captivated Gino as they swayed on the dance floor. “Elaine, did I ever tell you that when I was a boxer at Singer Gym, my uncle, the fighter Mario Calandra, made me take dance lessons so I’d be light on my feet?” He broke the embrace and did a boxer shuffle before pulling her back close. He whispered into her ear, “I’m a good dancer, but a better fighter. You know my hands are registered as lethal weapons.” He squeezed her waist a little too tightly.


Elaine’s spine tensed, and her head pulled away from the embrace. She focused on his large pupils. Without hesitation, in a coy cadence, she pronounced, “Aren’t all hands that kill lethal?”

“Ah, there you are again with those goddamn lines. You crack me up. You are something else, let me tell you.” Gino continued to stare at her face. He needed a continual read on her. 
 Elaine’s chin moved side to side as her eyes narrowed.

Gino continued, “Oh, but they can be gentle when necessary.” He loosened his hold, allowing his hand to be gentle upon her hips. “How was your dinner? Did you like it? Do you want anything else? Oh, you need a ruby. A ruby would suit you perfectly. Such a pretty little poppy.” His hand moved lower on her back.

The song ended, and the band took a break. Gino ordered another bottle of champagne. The Canadian Whisky flushed Stanley’s face. Gino’s Vernors tingled his nose. Susie quickly refilled her flute glass.

“Slow down, Susie.” Elaine’s advice, as her words came more freely, now that her task was complete. She succeeded in her goals; she could provide Marie with a job and some money to start anew. “Susie, you’re going to love my friend Marie. She’s been in New York City on and off for the past few years. Oh, it will be nice to have her around. She’s so much fun. And maybe we could get that three-bedroom apartment on York St. with her.”

Susie looked down her nose. “She sounds lovely. I’m looking forward to meeting her.” Susie drained her flute, setting it down with a clink on the bar. She stifled a small burp with her hand before shouting, “Oh, boys, I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere else.” Susie’s voice had an undetectable note of Southern charm.

“You wanna do something more fun, Suze? You got it. Finish your drinks, andiamo, let’s go. What time is it?”

Stanley looked at his Rolex watch. “Quarter past twelve.”

Yeah, let’s go. I have to meet the boys at Ivanhoe around one.

Chapter 3: The Topple

They drove to the Ivanhoe Tavern. The whole “strip” was happening that night. Bars and shops occupied the old Victorian houses that lined the street. The Ivanhoe Tavern, a hip spot right off the main drag, bustled with college kids and locals. A line stretched out of the door. The best local acts played and recorded there. The house band, Chic and the Diplomats, started their second set.

Gino double-parked his Deville by the Tavern on Forest Avenue. “Fuck it, we aren’t going to be here long. I just gotta drop something off.” He pulled out a small suitcase from his trunk. Elaine adjusted her short skirt and pantyhose before gazing at the night’s horizon. Her stare settled upon the two green-copper towers of the Buffalo Psychiatric Hospital.

They headed toward the rocking sounds pouring from The Ivanhoe’s door. Gino swaggered past the people waiting in line, while Stan, Elaine, and Susie followed him. As he approached the door, Gino spoke with his pitbull bravado.

“Ah, Eddie. How the hell are you? Is that your cousin playing tonight?” Gino stretched his arm, shaking Eddie’s hand before peeling a twenty-dollar bill from his money clip.

“You know it,” Eddie responded.

Gino looked at the short man standing next to Eddie. “Scrappy, how are you doing? You boys are still running together.”

Gino pulled out his money clip and peeled off another twenty-dollar bill for Scrappy.

“Acho,” Eddie started to sneeze.

Gino covered his mouth with one hand and tucked the money into his pocket with the other.

“Ahh, don’t get your fucking germs all over me, Eddie. Come on, you guys.” Gino waved at Susie, Stanley, and Elaine.

“Hey! Gino, you gonna leave your car there?” Eddie turned his head toward Gino’s car, half-blocking another vehicle.

“Yeah, we won’t be long. I’m meeting with Pepe and Mickey. Is Carmen here?”

“He’s been in and out.” Eddie shrugged.

Elaine was ecstatic. She smiled, head tilted, shoulder lifted. She usually waited patiently in the cold line with the college boys. But Gino was powerful, and Elaine loved the attention and prestige she felt when she was around him.

Gino’s large hands held the door open while the girls walked into the dark club.

“Waiting in line at the door and getting your hand stamped for a dollar admittance is for chumps. You’re with me now.” He declared to the girls.

***

Chic and the Diplomats finished the smooth, jazzy song Teardrops as the two couples navigated to the bar. Stanley whacked Gino’s side and pointed toward the other far side of the bar. And amidst the smoke, Gino locked eyes with Pepe, then with Mikey.

The four men nodded and scurried together, meeting in the middle of the crowd. They marched towards the back of the restaurant, clambering down the stairs into a small basement room.

Concrete walls, adorned with etched drawings, empty bottles, and garbage cans, created the perimeter. A manual scale bounced off the table when Gino slammed the suitcase. He opened the green leather case from the top and issued the orders to his men.

“Mix this with the milk powder, divide it evenly, and put it in these baggies.” Gino directed.

“How much powder to coke, boss?” asked Pepe.

Gino cracked open the one bag, grabbed his key, and took a large bump of powder. Stanley did the same.

“Equal parts, none of those addicts know the difference, and they’re gonna come back either way.” Give half to Frank, get rid of what you can, and bring the remainder to the stag.”

“You got it, boss,” Pepe chipped.

The music stopped, and the lead singer, Chic, announced, “Thanks for coming, everyone; we’re gonna sing one more before we take a quick break.”

“Alright, we gotta run, I’m double-parked,” Gino said.

Gino emerged from the subterranean meeting and waited at the top of the stairs for Stanley. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. His nostrils flared, and his torso inflated. Gino looked around for Elaine and Susie.

“Where the fuck are they?” He yelled into Stan’s ear.

Stanley pointed to the bar where Susie leaned on Greg, a good friend of theirs. Thick as thieves, they greeted each other.

“Let me buy you a drink while we wait on Carmen,” Greg, small, yellow, and overcompensating, yelled to the group.

“I’m good, I’m gonna use the john.” Gino swaggered toward the bathrooms by the candlelight tables in the corner. He brushed against a chair, and a lady’s purse dropped to the floor.

Gino picked up the pocketbook. “I think this is yours,” he said, smiling at the woman seated at the table of four.

Chic sang:

“You don’t know, like I know,
What that woman has done for me.”

***

Gino kept walking as the woman said, “Thank you.”

She turned toward her table and noticed the dark shadow covering her husband Thomas’ cheerful face. He leaned into the seated group of four. “Let’s get outta here and beat the crowd.” Paul and the wives nodded in agreement. The group squeezed their way through the crowd toward the exit.

“See you, folks later.” Eddie the Doorman remarked.

“That night was great. The band was on fire,” Tom told his wife.

The streetlamp light glowed against the large Castleese as the couples, Tom and Sharon, and Paul and Andrea, ambled arm in arm towards their parked car just down the block.

Andrea yelled ahead. “Sharon, who made your cake for the wedding? It was just amazing. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since April.” Andrea’s shoes clicked on the sidewalk.

“Romano’s Bakery.” Tom and Sharon stopped.

“Whose car is this? Who’s blocking the car?” Tom shouted.

Paul threw his hand into the air. “Come on,” he said, and Paul returned to the Tavern. “Do you know whose car is blocking mine?” he asked the doorman.

Eddie tucked his head inside and yelled. “Gino, you’re blocking their car; these couples want to leave.”

Paul walked back toward the car with resolve.

“Who is touching my car?” Gino shouted at Eddie. Stanley looked at Gino to see what to do, and Gino pushed toward the doors with Stanley in tow. They forced their way out of the restaurant, feeling nothing of the cold night. The men were now animals, their chests puffed out, throbbing with an unknown anger.

“YO, YO, YO, that’s my Caddy!” Gino yelled.

“WELL, you’re fucking blocking his car. You’re causing a fucking problem for us,” Tom shouted.

Gino barreled across the street toward the car, passing Paul, magnetized to Thomas. Stanley stopped short in front of Paul and stared manically into his eyes.

“What are you going to do about it? You think you’re a tough guy?” Gino pushed against Tom’s body, head, and face. In reaction, Tom pushed Gino back.

Elaine and Susie stumbled closer to the cars.

“What if I want to leave my car here all fucking night? You motherfucker. You gonna make me move it? What the fuck are you going to do, you little fucking pussy?” Gino raged at Tom, his spit hitting Tom’s face. Tom pushed Gino back again.

All four couples’ hearts doubled in speed as Chic sang on from inside the club
“You don’t know, like I know,
What that woman has done for me.”

Stan forced Paul against his car, but Paul pushed back with all his might, making some space between him and Stan and forcing Stan into the street. Paul walked toward Stan, but Stan ran at Paul, knocking him to the ground. Andrea stood in shock as Paul tried to rebound.

Gino pivoted from his hips and projected his boxer’s snap forward toward Thomas. The weight of his body followed until his knuckles connected against Tom’s jaw.

“CRACK!” followed by a gurgle, and then the moment went silent. Chic sang on
“You don’t know like I know
What that woman has done for me.”

Tom’s head had jutted back and spun to the right, and his skull fell toward the pavement, impacting and cracking open. His blood splattered and spilled forth onto the concrete. Sharon ran to him. He did not move; the blood flowed out of the large laceration and soaked the holes in the pavement. She raised her hands beside her face. “NO, Thomas,” and she fell by his side.

Gino recoiled to his gold Cadillac and yelled at the others, “Let’s go, let’s get the fuck out of here now, get into the car.”

Stan punched Paul, and he fell to his knees unconscious. Andrea rushed to Paul, then ran back toward the restaurant.

“Let’s go.” Gino started his engine. Chic sang:
“And as long as I live
Whenever I go to her

Like a miracle, everything CALL AN AMBULANCE.”

Chic shouted as the music fell apart.

Gino started his car while Elaine jumped into the back, Susie and Stan closed their doors, and the car sped away. Elaine looked back from the rear window as the street filled with people rushing out of the restaurant, flailing their hands in the air and shrieking for help.

Gino’s eyes reflected in the rearview mirror. “Sit forward, Elaine. What the fuck, why the fuck are you looking back? Stop looking back. Nothing happened; he’s fine,” Gino yelled. “I’m sure he’s fine.” Gino pushed his foot down on the gas pedal.

“Yay, but did you hear that crack?” Stanley shook his head. “It echoed. It was so loud.”

“Shut up, Stanley, he’s fine. I’ve seen men go down harder than that.”

“None of you is going to say anything. You got it, Susie, you got it, Elaine. I know your old man from the garage. I have a record, and I can’t go back.” Foam formed on Gino’s mouth. “You don’t understand what I’m capable of,” he said, looking in the rearview mirror before he

bent over, pulling a gun from his glove box and pointing it up toward the car ceiling. The girls sat back. Elaine only heard yelling, no words; she trembled, confused by what had just happened. Was he ok? That man, the one who fell, the splatter, the crack, the blood. Did that just happen?

“We need to go back,” Elaine declared.

Gino met her eyes in the rear-view mirror. “No. Do you understand, Elaine? He’s fine, forget about it, have you never seen a fight before?”

The adrenaline shook her hands. The danger of the night was still in full effect. Elaine’s worry and guilt soured her stomach for fleeing, but where were they going?

The car drove wildly. The sirens wailed in the distance before the foursome fled the neighborhood.