It had all started the day one of the boys at school found out were his folks were from.
Most of the school kids had never heard of Palermo, let alone the fact that it was in Sicily. But this kid did, and it really started something. Of course, it didn’t help that local cinemas were running The Godfather and drawing large audiences. Anyway, the inevitable banter about him having connections to the mob finally dropped off as the school year went on and he was able to settle back down to his regular schooling, without the continual references to the Mafia from his class mates.
Well… it almost dropped off; all except for this one trouble-maker who had started the whole thing off. He just wouldn’t let it go. The kid just kept on with his annoying remarks, as though it was still hilariously funny. He didn’t seem to realise that nobody else was finding it humorous any more. He didn’t see that nobody else had kept up with the witty remarks and the derisive banter. All things considered, he just wasn’t very bright.
Anyway, it all came to a head the day the victim came up with a plan to resolve it once and for all. As the last class ended he approached the boy saying that he was willing to share a secret with him, as long as he swore on pain of death that he wouldn’t repeat it to anybody. The serious manner in which this invitation was given had the desired effect. The boy, now full of curiosity, agreed to meet in the maintenance shed at the back of the school after they had collected there school bags.
As the trouble maker entered the shed, the other put his finger to his lips, closed the door and switched the light off, leaving only a small amount of light coming in through a dirty skylight in the roof. “Don’t make a noise. Don’t say anything,” the victim whispered. “Remember, you are sworn to secrecy.” Before the other could reply, he found himself in a complete head-lock, held from behind. He was not able to talk and was having trouble breathing.
“I have been told to pass on a message,” said the attacking boy. “My father says that the people in Palermo have found out what has been going on at school. They are not happy with all this open talk about them, even if it is supposed to be funny.”
At this point he brought out a replica revolver and pressed the end of the plastic barrel hard against the boy’s head. “My father has received word from them. He wants to make the problem go away. Believe me, if he did, no trace of you would ever be found.” The gun was pressed harder. “My father has given me permission to ask you once, and only once, to stop talking about them.” With this, he released him, pushed him to the ground and left.
After a while the boy got to his feet and stood wiping his eyes and trembling.
He never spoke about any of it again.