Epiphany
11-02-2005, 04:40 PM
I would appreciate some ideas for a title.
Many names were taken from different sources (because I'm extremely bad at making up good names) but the whole plot was my idea.
Chapter I
More than meets the eye
Hovoken, May 16th, 1932
Vinnie was only a cab driver in busy Hovoken. He’d grown up in that city, and had never stepped foot outside of it. He knew the city’s intricate roads and alleys by heart. It came with being a taxi driver. He could take perfect mental pictures of people and places. He still remembered what his mother looked like, although he hadn’t seen her since he was 15. She said she’d gone to Milwaukee to see her sick grandmother. Apparently, after 18 years, her grandmother was still alive and sick, explaining his disappearance. That’s what he liked to think, but deep inside he knew she had left him.
His father had also mysteriously disappeared. He’d been present the night it had happened. He knew the mafia had had something to do with it, but it was tough for him to remember the details of the event. Not that he really wanted to remember. He lived alone. The place he called “home” was a storage room behind a bar called Verona’s. He had an uncomfortable bed there, and the landlord of the bar forced him to do hard work for no pay. He threatened to file a complain to the police once. Mr. Arias, the landlord told him he couldn’t. Vinnie’s record wasn’t squeaky clean, and people with records like Vinnie’s couldn’t file complaints in Hovoken. He’d stolen wine and whisky from the kegs in the alley off to the side of the bar. He had an unhealthy habit for getting his hands on things that weren’t rightfully his. He picked locks and stole bread and butter from the nearby restaurants on the busy weekends. He thought he was a kleptomaniac. But of course, whenever he stated that, people took him for some sort of psycho.
Socially, Vinnie was doing rather well. He had a lot of friends, with a lot of contacts. If he wanted to talk to anyone in Hovoken, he just had to pick up the phone and call one of his friends. This privilege wasn’t particularly useful, though. He never needed any contacts, but it felt good to know that if he ever did, there they’d be. His most important contacts were Mark, the fisherman who had actually bought a spot in Lost Haven so that he could be the only person to fish on that spot, and Rowell, the burglar. He had never known Rowell’s first name, nor had he ever asked for Mark’s last name. Not that he needed them.
His job as a taxi driver hardly ever earned him a very good pay. He’d tried his hand at carpentry, bartending, gambling and minor league baseball. The only thing he’d been fairly good at was baseball. He’d made a chair with three legs once as a carpenter. He was slightly daltonic when in presence of yellow bright lights, so he confused drinks and took them for others. He’d given a Bloody Mary to a 10 year old kid. That got him fired. Gambling didn’t work well, and that’s pretty self-explanatory. He’d never had anything eventful happen during his taxi driving days. Until that night.
He saw a man and someone who was obviously some sort of business partner standing right next to him. The first man was old. He had huge pores in his face and a wart below his chin. He was wearing a bowler hat, but he could see that his scarce hair was dark grey. He was in his middle fifties, and had a pretty heavy build. His suit was jet black, and his shirt was so clean it seemed to glow against the black suit.
His partner was younger, about Vinnie´s age. He had the healthiest face he’d seen in his life. The man was full of… something. Vinnie didn’t find a good word for it. Life, maybe? He was athletic and wasn’t wearing a hat. His hair was dark brown and went down to a place just above his shoulders. He was lifting his thumb, hoping to get a ride from Vinnie. He looked worried, and the old man looked desperate. As soon as the cab was close enough they ran inside it.
“Drive” Said the old man
“Where to?” Vinnie answered, a little nervous now, since he had noticed a bulky object under the man’s suit. A shoulder holster. It wasn’t very common to see a person carrying a gun those days.
“Anywhere, but just drive!” The exasperated young man screamed.
Vinnie put the pedal to the floor and drove fairly fast around town. After a minute or so a black Bugatti appeared behind them. There were three men leaning out of the window, all with guns in their hands. On a closer look, the driver had an automatic in his hand as well. The old man pulled out his gun, a service .44. The younger man pulled a 9mm pistol from his belt. He shot a hole through the rear window and shot at the car. The old man did the same. Surprisingly, he was a better shot than his younger partner… friend… acquaintance… he didn’t know what he was. He managed to shoot through the Bugatti’s windshield and hit one of the shooters in the leg. In an act of rage, the driver shot an entire clip at Vinnie’s cab. Only one bullet hit. Vinnie was going over the speed limit now. Well over the speed limit. Everything looked blurry and unclear. It was hard to make out what was going on. And to make things worse, a light shower of rain was falling.
Vinnie was approaching a close turn; he quickly turned the steering wheel and skidded through the pavement. He knew he was a good driver, but he’d never suspected he’d be able to perform a 90 degree turn. However, he just had. With his eyes closed. But he didn’t close them because he was confident. He closed them because he was frightened.
“Man, I had him!” The younger man said after Vinnie took the turn.
“It was either missing the shot or running smack into a wall, so I’d like to see more shooting and less whining from you!” The old man said angrily.
Something rather unexpected happened at that moment. A tram hit the Bugatti, which was now being pushed sideways by the moving tram. The driver jumped out of the car, but was hit by a bullet in midair. The other two shooters jumped and were run over by the tram. The driver who had been hit stayed in the car. He was already dead.
“Turn here” the old man said when they reached an alleyway.
“The car can’t go through it” Said Vinnie, shaking off his nervousness.
“Then just park here.”
Vinnie parked the car with the two right wheels on the street and the other 2 on the sidewalk. He was too shaken up to think clearly. The whole thing was just too much for him. The men, the car, the shootout, the chase, everything was just too much.
“Tommy Conlin, that was some great shooting.” The old man said solemnly to the younger man.
“You did better, Mr.”
“And you” he looked at Vinnie, who was now leaning against a wall, vomiting. “You are one of the best drivers I’ve seen. See this building?” He pointed at a large office building with a restaurant on the ground floor.” It’s the headquarters of my… organization. I have some of the best drivers in town, and you can easily kick their asses, if you’ll excuse my language.”
“It’s alright, sir” Vinnie answered, then he puked again.
“If you’d like a change, you’re welcome in my agency anytime you want. You might be a great… asset.
“I appreciate that, sir” Actually, I’d be glad if I never saw your face again, he didn’t say. “I gotta run now. If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Conlin, Mr… I believe I don’t know your name”
“That’s because I didn’t tell you. And I’m not going to.”
Vinnie thought that was a little rude. But he put that thought aside. He had one more question.
“What was it we just went through?”
“That was a car chase.”
“I mean, who were those men?”
“The ones we popped?” He replied. Vinnie thought it was strange for a man of his status to use the word “popped” in a conversation.
“Let me handle this, sir.” Conlin said.
“Alright, I think you’re ready for this stuff already.” The man said.
“If you decide to provide your services for our agency, you might know.”
“I… I’ll think about it” Again, Vinnie didn’t want to get involved into this stuff. And he suspected that it wasn’t just a driving agency.
“We’re looking forward to having you working for us, Mr…”
“Uh… Gognitti. Vinnie Gognitti.”
“Good name. Sounds tough.”
“Uh… thank you?” Vinnie replied, not believing the nonsense Mr. Conlin was speaking now.
Tommy Conlin laughed at that.
“Good night, Mr. Gognitti.”
“Good night, Mr. Conlin” He turned to the mystery man “Good night” He simply said.
And he walked away. A thousand thoughts dwelt in his mind. He wanted answers to the hundreds of questions he had.
He didn’t know yet, but he’d be finding them rather soon. He suspected there was more than met the eye to this character.
Many names were taken from different sources (because I'm extremely bad at making up good names) but the whole plot was my idea.
Chapter I
More than meets the eye
Hovoken, May 16th, 1932
Vinnie was only a cab driver in busy Hovoken. He’d grown up in that city, and had never stepped foot outside of it. He knew the city’s intricate roads and alleys by heart. It came with being a taxi driver. He could take perfect mental pictures of people and places. He still remembered what his mother looked like, although he hadn’t seen her since he was 15. She said she’d gone to Milwaukee to see her sick grandmother. Apparently, after 18 years, her grandmother was still alive and sick, explaining his disappearance. That’s what he liked to think, but deep inside he knew she had left him.
His father had also mysteriously disappeared. He’d been present the night it had happened. He knew the mafia had had something to do with it, but it was tough for him to remember the details of the event. Not that he really wanted to remember. He lived alone. The place he called “home” was a storage room behind a bar called Verona’s. He had an uncomfortable bed there, and the landlord of the bar forced him to do hard work for no pay. He threatened to file a complain to the police once. Mr. Arias, the landlord told him he couldn’t. Vinnie’s record wasn’t squeaky clean, and people with records like Vinnie’s couldn’t file complaints in Hovoken. He’d stolen wine and whisky from the kegs in the alley off to the side of the bar. He had an unhealthy habit for getting his hands on things that weren’t rightfully his. He picked locks and stole bread and butter from the nearby restaurants on the busy weekends. He thought he was a kleptomaniac. But of course, whenever he stated that, people took him for some sort of psycho.
Socially, Vinnie was doing rather well. He had a lot of friends, with a lot of contacts. If he wanted to talk to anyone in Hovoken, he just had to pick up the phone and call one of his friends. This privilege wasn’t particularly useful, though. He never needed any contacts, but it felt good to know that if he ever did, there they’d be. His most important contacts were Mark, the fisherman who had actually bought a spot in Lost Haven so that he could be the only person to fish on that spot, and Rowell, the burglar. He had never known Rowell’s first name, nor had he ever asked for Mark’s last name. Not that he needed them.
His job as a taxi driver hardly ever earned him a very good pay. He’d tried his hand at carpentry, bartending, gambling and minor league baseball. The only thing he’d been fairly good at was baseball. He’d made a chair with three legs once as a carpenter. He was slightly daltonic when in presence of yellow bright lights, so he confused drinks and took them for others. He’d given a Bloody Mary to a 10 year old kid. That got him fired. Gambling didn’t work well, and that’s pretty self-explanatory. He’d never had anything eventful happen during his taxi driving days. Until that night.
He saw a man and someone who was obviously some sort of business partner standing right next to him. The first man was old. He had huge pores in his face and a wart below his chin. He was wearing a bowler hat, but he could see that his scarce hair was dark grey. He was in his middle fifties, and had a pretty heavy build. His suit was jet black, and his shirt was so clean it seemed to glow against the black suit.
His partner was younger, about Vinnie´s age. He had the healthiest face he’d seen in his life. The man was full of… something. Vinnie didn’t find a good word for it. Life, maybe? He was athletic and wasn’t wearing a hat. His hair was dark brown and went down to a place just above his shoulders. He was lifting his thumb, hoping to get a ride from Vinnie. He looked worried, and the old man looked desperate. As soon as the cab was close enough they ran inside it.
“Drive” Said the old man
“Where to?” Vinnie answered, a little nervous now, since he had noticed a bulky object under the man’s suit. A shoulder holster. It wasn’t very common to see a person carrying a gun those days.
“Anywhere, but just drive!” The exasperated young man screamed.
Vinnie put the pedal to the floor and drove fairly fast around town. After a minute or so a black Bugatti appeared behind them. There were three men leaning out of the window, all with guns in their hands. On a closer look, the driver had an automatic in his hand as well. The old man pulled out his gun, a service .44. The younger man pulled a 9mm pistol from his belt. He shot a hole through the rear window and shot at the car. The old man did the same. Surprisingly, he was a better shot than his younger partner… friend… acquaintance… he didn’t know what he was. He managed to shoot through the Bugatti’s windshield and hit one of the shooters in the leg. In an act of rage, the driver shot an entire clip at Vinnie’s cab. Only one bullet hit. Vinnie was going over the speed limit now. Well over the speed limit. Everything looked blurry and unclear. It was hard to make out what was going on. And to make things worse, a light shower of rain was falling.
Vinnie was approaching a close turn; he quickly turned the steering wheel and skidded through the pavement. He knew he was a good driver, but he’d never suspected he’d be able to perform a 90 degree turn. However, he just had. With his eyes closed. But he didn’t close them because he was confident. He closed them because he was frightened.
“Man, I had him!” The younger man said after Vinnie took the turn.
“It was either missing the shot or running smack into a wall, so I’d like to see more shooting and less whining from you!” The old man said angrily.
Something rather unexpected happened at that moment. A tram hit the Bugatti, which was now being pushed sideways by the moving tram. The driver jumped out of the car, but was hit by a bullet in midair. The other two shooters jumped and were run over by the tram. The driver who had been hit stayed in the car. He was already dead.
“Turn here” the old man said when they reached an alleyway.
“The car can’t go through it” Said Vinnie, shaking off his nervousness.
“Then just park here.”
Vinnie parked the car with the two right wheels on the street and the other 2 on the sidewalk. He was too shaken up to think clearly. The whole thing was just too much for him. The men, the car, the shootout, the chase, everything was just too much.
“Tommy Conlin, that was some great shooting.” The old man said solemnly to the younger man.
“You did better, Mr.”
“And you” he looked at Vinnie, who was now leaning against a wall, vomiting. “You are one of the best drivers I’ve seen. See this building?” He pointed at a large office building with a restaurant on the ground floor.” It’s the headquarters of my… organization. I have some of the best drivers in town, and you can easily kick their asses, if you’ll excuse my language.”
“It’s alright, sir” Vinnie answered, then he puked again.
“If you’d like a change, you’re welcome in my agency anytime you want. You might be a great… asset.
“I appreciate that, sir” Actually, I’d be glad if I never saw your face again, he didn’t say. “I gotta run now. If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Conlin, Mr… I believe I don’t know your name”
“That’s because I didn’t tell you. And I’m not going to.”
Vinnie thought that was a little rude. But he put that thought aside. He had one more question.
“What was it we just went through?”
“That was a car chase.”
“I mean, who were those men?”
“The ones we popped?” He replied. Vinnie thought it was strange for a man of his status to use the word “popped” in a conversation.
“Let me handle this, sir.” Conlin said.
“Alright, I think you’re ready for this stuff already.” The man said.
“If you decide to provide your services for our agency, you might know.”
“I… I’ll think about it” Again, Vinnie didn’t want to get involved into this stuff. And he suspected that it wasn’t just a driving agency.
“We’re looking forward to having you working for us, Mr…”
“Uh… Gognitti. Vinnie Gognitti.”
“Good name. Sounds tough.”
“Uh… thank you?” Vinnie replied, not believing the nonsense Mr. Conlin was speaking now.
Tommy Conlin laughed at that.
“Good night, Mr. Gognitti.”
“Good night, Mr. Conlin” He turned to the mystery man “Good night” He simply said.
And he walked away. A thousand thoughts dwelt in his mind. He wanted answers to the hundreds of questions he had.
He didn’t know yet, but he’d be finding them rather soon. He suspected there was more than met the eye to this character.