Jumping the Sinus Shark

I've missed posts like this

David, I’ve missed your stories, well written like a short story should be!! Whenever your up to it, keep’em coming.

Hope you and Xuan are doing much better. It’s great hearing from you, we ALL miss you😘

Be well my friend

This is a tale of a previous life that is coming back to me with the treatments the Reticulans are giving me. Anyone ever hooked up to a Zorch Machine will know how revealing it can be.

My big question is should I put continuing posts in a new thread or add to this one?

Haven't had a good Zorching in decades!

It hasn't been easy and there's been much self-nembulating. I'll probably go to Reticulan Hades!

    I totally understand and feel sorry for you!! My last was in 1980, but it’s a Zorching well remembered to this day👍👍👍👍👍

Far out, man!🎏👌🤡👽🤸‍♂️🤹‍♀️🤹‍♂️👙🦆🦋🐞🐝🌺🌻🌼🌷🍀🌋🌙🗿☢️

David, I have to ask as I reflect on your story.. Please tell me it was true up to and including you being able to enjoy your smokes? It would be incredibly sad if that bit was fantasy.

Acid drenched goodness

   Naw, I'm just that messed up

Part 2

I started running down the block, amazed to see old time cars and horse carts in the street. I was looking for a building with a window to see my reflection, but most were covered with snow and ice. The buildings. They looked newer, but older.

I made it to a store that had just cleaned its windows to showcase a giant stuffed turkey. I peered in. This was not me. It was the image of my grandfather whom I was a ringer for. The pictures of grandpa and the area. I was back in the 1910’s. Middle 10’s. Reports of a war in Europe are on a newly dropped newspaper, The Points Gazette. Dear Lord, Grandpa Turk grew up in the Five Points of New York. Things started spinning. I was spinning. I ran to the alley behind the store, and as I was falling, I aimed for the softest pile of rubbish in sight. The smell of ripe fruits and vegetables made me feel like I was drowning as I passed...

What am I doing on this rubbish pile? I came to in the alley behind McGloin’s Perfect Pig and Grocery Shop. I was at the right place, but I am not sure I was in the right frame of mind for what I wanted to do. Pugsy McGloin had that turkey in his window since last night. Momma Rosalie needed something to fee the neighborhood kids for Thanksgiving. How I was going to lift this and flee was beyond me. Monk is always saying to create a distraction. I sure could use Gimpy with me. He could limp his way into a row of tins and that would give me my chance. Looks like I’ll have to pull this off by myself.

I went around to the front and entered, smelling the smoke and sausage that permeated the air. It was crowded. My chances were good. I went to the center row, with its tins stacked up high and made for the man with the cane in front of me. I “accidentally” ran into him and he into the two tallest stacks of tins. I made for the turkey, not bothering to hide it, hoping the crowd was distracted, and ran out. I just turned out the door when some big guy grabbed me and said, “Hold it, kid!”

I turned around. The big guy was not alone. He had someone with him, looking just as mean, if not big.

“You from Eastman’s Gang? Monk Eastman?”

“Uh... yes sir, but I am just sort of a mascot.”

“Eastman sends mascots out to commit crimes, that Stunad?

“No sir,” I said with my voice getting softer and softer.

“Then spill it kid, or I am going to send you to Mr. Vaccarelli. He can deal with you!”

“Not Paul Kelly, sir. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Tell me what you’re up to. NOW!”

“Momma Rosalie’s been feeding all of us on her block of Little Water Street every holiday. It’s all scrap potatoes, greens, and fruits that have the spoilage cut from them... and bits of meat that were getting a little milky. She freshens them up as best she can. A few of us kids did a straw draw for who would get something really nice for Momma Rosalie to cook.”

The big guy turned to his mate and said, “Fingers, go check around Little Water and see if this bazool’s telling the truth.” Fingers left.

We went back to the store’s dark office and sat. I felt so exposed. I would have rather been pinched by the coppers than deal with Paul Kelly, leader of the Five Points Gang. Monk Eastman ditched the gang o fight for America. Gyp the Blood and Lefty Louis had just been executed for the Rosenthal Killing. Seems like crime might not be such a good job after all.

Fingers came back and verified my story. “He’s telling da truth, chief.”

“Okay, Fingers, fill up a cart and deliver it to Momma Rosalie tonight. Spare nothing. Sausages, two turkeys, greens, the whole works. And get some pies from Federhoffer’s, too.”

“I was starting to think that I might escape with my skin when the big guy told Fingers one more thing: “Give this turkey my address on Mulberry. Better yet, you deliver him in person tomorrow, late AM.

“Sure ting, boss. You want I should take him home now?”

“Naw, I’ll talk to McGloin and he can stay here in the back room, provided he realizes that those who pay protection to the Pointers are really protected.”





The next morning Fingers took me on a ride to Mulberry Street. He even let me ride on the runner for a while. I figured if I was going to get croaked that at least I bit the big one having some fun.

We arrived. Fingers knocked on the door and the big guy boss opened it. He was in nice slacks and an undershirt. He looked more like a butcher than a gangster. Um, I’m not sure this bodes well.

“Come in, kid. Fingers, go back to patrolling and join us a little later.”

“Yes, chief.”

Immediately I was grabbed by the collar and lifted into the living room. It looked like his whole family was going to witness my execution.

“This is Turkey... I mean Turk. He’s going to have Thanksgiving dinner with us.

“Turk, this is Aunt Mafalda, Uncle Ralph, Uncle Sal, and now to the kitchen.”

I could feel the life come back in me, helped by all the spice in the air.

“Kid, this is Momma Theresa. Momma, this is Turk, the little scoundrel I told you about. We got room for one more to add to the family?”

This large, but very sweet woman put her hands on my cheeks and kissed me on the head. “You are a new son to us. Welcome.”

I was crying. I had lost my parents and all around me was this family full of love. “What do I call you, sir?”

I’m your Uncle Al.



~~~~To be continued

Holy crap.

Tis a tale to be told and heard. Thoroughly enjoyed it. Waiting for more. 

  I really do appreciate the comments of you and the others. The stories will be written. Having people that want to read them decides whether I post them.