Free Who is Lou Sciortino? by Ottavio Cappellani

I turn around, and you tell me if there’s anything you need to be forgiven for.
    â€œI really don’t know,” Nick continues, “I really don’t. I mean, I didn’t go to your barbecue last night … but I don’t think … Could it be … I don’t know … could it be Uncle Sal mistook me for somebody else?”
    â€œYou know something, Nick?” Tony says, forgetting about the twittering birds or any desire he might have to understand what the fuck’s going on in front of Cettina. “You’re right. Uncle Sal mistook you for somebody else, he realized he made a mistake, and now he wants to forgive you … He always does that when he makes a mistake: first he forgives you, then he makes you part of the family.”
    â€œPart of the family?”
    â€œSure, part of the family … Mindy, right?”
    â€œMindy’s a nice girl, Nick,” Cettina says.
    â€œToo nice, if you ask me,” Tony says. “ Cazzo, she’s like Aunt Carmela!”
    â€œDon’t talk like that, Tony!” Cettina says.
    â€œWhy? Because Nick’s here?” Tony says. “But Nick’s gotta know about our family problems! Minchia, Uncle Sal’s worried … We already got one old maid, and people have started saying the Scali women aren’t the marrying kind. You know what that means, Nick?”
    Nick makes a face, like he doesn’t know what it means.
    â€œFuck,” Tony continues, “if women aren’t the marrying kind, it means they don’t want a family, they weren’t brought up with any family feeling … But you know something, Nick? I’m really pleased Sal talked to you about Mindy. Valentina won’t like it, but at least we won’t have another Aunt Carmela in the family!”
    Nick makes a face, like someone who’s lost the thread.
    â€œSomebody just has to mention your name and Valentina goes all red, like she just got slapped in the face!” Tony says. He goes up to Nick, smiling, and pinches his cheeks. “Nicky, Nicky, you’re a real good kid … innocent, but a good kid … Fuck, it’s getting late! Let’s go, I’ll see you to the door.”
    â€œThanks for the coffee, Cettina,” Nick says, standing up.
    â€œDon’t mention it, Nick,” Cettina says, pulling her skirt down again.
    Tony would like to put his arm around Nick’s shoulders, but, seeing that Nick is quite a bit taller, he decides he’ll just squeeze his left forearm as they walk to the door. When they get there, Tony squeezes harder. Nick turns.
    â€œNick,” Tony says. “You know, don’t laugh at this, but I’ve gotten fond of you … Is there anything you want to tell me? I’m here for you!”
    â€œNothing, Tony, believe me,” Nick says. “Nothing important.”
    â€œOkay,” Tony says, giving him a pat on the right cheek. “You go on home.”

FRANK TWIDDLES HIS THUMBS AND LOOKS AT THEM
    Frank twiddles his thumbs and looks at them, thinking aloud to Chaz. “You know what’s crazy? Somebody like me who pays taxes can’t go to Sicily when he wants to! I gotta justify myself to the fucking FBI!”
    â€œWe need something, Frank,” Chaz says. “Just one thing, then the lawyer can say, ‘Erra went to Sicily for this, that, and the other, and you know what the FBI did? They followed him, they wasted public money persecuting an honest Italian-American citizen just because of his heritage!’”
    â€œ Madonna! ” Frank says. “These fucking Cuban cigars! Look how yellow my fingers are! Yes, Chaz, but it’s got to be something plausible, otherwise the average American gets pissed off. You gotta give the average American a serious reason, not serious to you, serious to him. Because otherwise he starts to go hmmm, and when the average American goes hmmm, it