#brownjug

The first time my uncle Louie took me into the bar, I was 6. I was following him along while he ran some errands, and there was someone in the bar he needed to see.

“Look who I brought here, Rhino. My nephew Jamie!” my uncle said to the barman, a heavyset, bald man cleaning the inside of a beer mug with a rag.

“Look at this kid! He looks like a tough guy,” Rhino said as he leaned in to me over the counter. “Hey, Petriccioni! Look at this kid,” he said to a tan-skinned man having a beer at the bar. “Wouldn’t you say he looks like the toughest, saltiest nut in all New York State?”

“Haha, my stars! He’s a regular muscleman, this kid is,” Petriccioni said, patting the top of my head. “A killer if I ever saw one. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Louie here was trying to intimidate us haha!”

“Haha, I’ll say,” said Rhino, and then slapped my uncle in the face, hard. “Listen, you mustache-faced fuck. If you think you can intimidate me and my customers by bringing this bloodthirsty footsoldier into my joint,” he pointed right at me with his index finger, “you got another thing coming.” Everyone in the bar did a double-take. The place was dead quiet. “Granted, the kid looks like a cold-blooded murderer; cool as ice when he needs to be, and brutal when he doesn’t, I won’t deny you that. But I have an army willing to die at my command, you hear me? AN ARMY!!!”

Petriccioni pulled out a handgun, and keeping his voice real quiet and level, said: “You clowns better move on out of here, before things get ugly. Don’t do anything stupid, lug face.”

As we walked out of the joint, I shot Rhino one last look. We’d accomplished exactly what we wanted. The whole bar was tight with fear.

...

A couple of days later, while I sat with my uncle on the benches of the local Laundromat, a black-haired woman of about 30, wearing red heels, approached us. “Hey Louie, it’s so good to see you!” The two hugged, and my uncle kissed her on the cheek. “And who is this dashing little man here?” she took a knee to look closely at me.

“That’s the little tot, my 6 year old nephew Jamie,” Louie said to her.

“My my, aren’t you the handsomest little guy I’ve ever seen!” she said, “he is cute little bugger, a regular lady-killer!”

All of a sudden, someone came out of the bathroom and yelled out, “Hey! Who the fuck are you talking to Denise?” A red-faced man in a white tank top, his arms covered in tattoos, strode over to us. “Is this a fuckin’ joke?” he said to my uncle. “You seriously gonna parade your fuckin’ vicious enforcer around town like that? And then have him hit on my girl?” The other few people in the Laundromat kept their heads down.

“Rhino’s ready to wage an all-out war,” he backed my uncle up against the machines. “I don’t care that this kid is ruthless with a gun and deft in melee combat, you better watch where you fuckin’ tread, Louie. You’re not gonna like what’s waiting for you in the tall grass.”

“Leave him alone Stanley!” said Denise. “You stay out of this Denise,” said Stanley between clenched teeth. “This don’t concern you.”

As Stanley walked out of the Laundromat, Denise kissed my neck and closed my palm around a slip of paper. “Let me know if you ever want to meet up, handsome guy.” Her number was in it.

“You better count on it,” I said, and sliced her in half with an eyeball laser.

...

The next day, I sat in my uncle’s kitchen while he made some mac and cheese we could eat before going to the movie theater. Just then, his girlfriend Linda walked through the door. “Hey Louie. Mmm… what smells good?” She looked at the stove and giggled. “Are you cooking Louie? When do you ever cook?” He smiled at her and gave her a kiss.

“The kid and I were just about to head out to the movies, so I made some quick mac and cheese so we wouldn’t get hungry,” he said while he wiped down the kitchen counter.

“Little Jamie is here? Oh my gosh I hadn’t seen him!” she said as she picked me up and made a big fart noise against my belly.

Then, my uncle Louie froze, the rag still moist on the marble counter, his back to us. He turned around, slow.

“What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?” she said.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He turned to me. “Jamie, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he said. “Leave Jamie out of this,” said Linda, “It was just a little raspberry on his belly. I was just bein’ friendly is all!”She was starting to get nervous.

“Friendly?” Louie said, “Friendly? I’ll tell you what friendly is. A handshake, is friendly. What I just saw there wasn’t friendly. IT WAS PORNOGRAPHY!” he was screaming now.

“You’re a scumbag Louie. You’re drunk,” said Linda, pushing back tears. “How you gonna act surprised when I go to other guys? Huh? When every single night you either come home drunk, or not at all? How?” Louie’s eyes were starting to get glassy too.

“Jamie is a prodigious love maker,” Denise was openly crying now, “combining precision, and immaculate rhythm to produce extraordinary sexual experiences.”

“Jamie,” said Louie. “I thought we were on the same team,” tears were streaking his cheeks. “And you’re gonna do me like this?”

“The shit you’re running with Rhino, Louie,” I said. “It’s got an expiration date.”

Then, I’m not sure why—maybe anger, maybe confusion, maybe a death wish—Louie pulled out a gun. There was a moment of confusion, Linda screamed, and a shot boomed through the apartment. Then another. Then another, and then a full clip, in quick, measured intervals. I shot him. I shot him with my handgun in the chest and in the head and one stray bullet hit the pot with mac and cheese so that was that for our dinner but oh well.

I looked down at the poor bastard. Linda put her hand on my shoulder.