Chapter 3

Big Tony and Mort Michaels were not discussed again while Delores was in Greenfield. When she arrived to stay with Chazzy in her room, I broached the subject again.

"I have been thinking about what I told you a week ago. I don't think I want to tell you anymore. You obviously loved your parents very much and I don't want to destroy the memory you have of them. Children can be so unaware of what their parents are doing unless it is pointed out to them."

"Damnit, you've said too much already. You might as well tell me all of it. I think you owe me after all I have done for you."

"Yes, and if I tell you everything, you will most likely wish you had let me die. Some of it I don't want Chazzy to know either."

Chazzy took it out of my hands. "Mom, by God you better tell us. It can't get any worse for me, and Jones is old enough to handle it. We didn't choose our parents and good or bad, we deserve to know."

"Okay, you asked for it. Marv, your father was a gravedigger. He buried bodies at $1,000 a whack and only in a private unrecorded cemetery. He kept you away from where it was and you were never allowed there."

"And what about Mother? You said parents."

"You don't want me to go there."

"I do."

"Okay then, I tried my best to keep you from knowing. Your mother was a hostess for some of the older men that came up to Vermont with Big Tony. She was attractive, if you can remember her twenty years ago. I honestly don't believe she ever slept with any of them. At least not when I was here with Big Tony. All of these men were old and retired and needed someone pleasant to talk with. She would mix a drink or get them a snack just like a wife would if they were at home. Many of their wives had passed on."

"Did Dad know about this--what she did, I mean?"

"Of course. Sometimes he was there doing what he was hired for while she was in the house. He was well respected the same as she was. It paid well, too. It paid the mortgage off on this place and I imagine it put you through school. This was going on the seven years before my husband disappeared. After that, I had only one letter from your mother severing all ties with me. She was afraid they would be questioned after people started looking for my husband. Your parents were known to the men at the house as Mr. and Mrs. Merton. If I hadn't had my problem, Mort wouldn't have got on to it and Chazzy wouldn't have come here. I'd be dead now as well."

"Do you think he will make any trouble for you? I have to admit, I don't like him and I did practically kick him out."

"I don't think so. We'll keep watch out for him."

I was working on my book. My meals were prepared on time and the house was spotless. I was slowly learning all the ins and outs of what it was like living with a person who was married to the mob at one time. I suppose a certain protocol was developed over the years. Now I had a first hand window into it. I'm sure eventually some of it would end up in a future book of mine.

When my credit card bill came with the transportation cost listed, I tried to hide it, but Chazzy was expecting it and confronted me. "You show it to me. I promised I would work for you to pay it off for however long it took."

I let her look. "My God, I'll be working forever. That's okay, I wasn't going anywhere."

"You might not think so now, but just as soon as this book is sent to be printed, I'm having you work in the basement cleaning and there are decades of stuff stored in the attic. There are hundreds of books, some I want to read again. I'm going to get rid of everything that has any value and junk the rest."

As my book neared completion, I worked more with Chazzy on her diet and exercise. She had nearly reached the goal I had set for her. As Delores got stronger and more sure of herself, she asked me to take over doing for her the same as I did for her daughter.

We made a trip one day and she listed her house in Massachusetts with a Realtor. A month later she received an offer and as I wasn't too busy, we all stayed there and cleared out the things she had accumulated. She hadn't been one to collect and her possessions pretty much were of what she used everyday. We cleaned the house thoroughly before returning to Vermont.

"I feel better now. I don't feel as if I was sponging off you."

"You aren't sponging that much. Chazzy is still paying rent for her room and we are sharing the cost of the groceries. If it gets cold this winter, and it will, I'll just crawl in bed with you two to keep warm." I was making a joke. Chazzy looked at me and before she turned away, I could see tears start in her eyes.

"Marvin, please don't joke about getting in bed with Chazzy. To her it isn't a joke. I suspect it is her greatest wish. It is so sad that she will never have a normal life because of how she looks. She could be such a warm and caring person. You know when her looks started to change, I had her evaluated. It was determined that this isn't hereditary. The bone structure was weak when she went into puberty. It is something quite rare, but isn't unknown.

"She has always pushed the opposite sex away, thinking that they would leave her in the morning. That is why she quit wrestling and later quit Hollywood. She fell in love a couple of times, one each in what she was doing, but knew eventually she would be rejected. I have never asked her, but it wouldn't be surprising if she has never been with a man.

"You know, if my brother found the stash that Big Tony reputably left, he would piss it away. He certainly wouldn't use it to fix Chazzy's face. It is better if it is never found."

"What's it going to take?"

"Time-wise, I don't know. I do know it would take three separate operations. I would guess six months total. The cost would be astronomical."

"There must be some clues as to what he did with the diamonds if he did have some. Tell me about his last weeks and days. You spent the summer here in Vermont. I know because I remember seeing Chazzy at the swimming hole."

"I can't think of anything. I know Big Tony was worried about being called before a commission to answer questions asked by the FBI. I can thank my brother for that. They certainly looked hard enough for him after his disappearance. For a long time they suspected he had jumped the country, but they couldn't find any evidence of that."

"When did you leave for the summer?"

"It was the day before Big Tony was to leave. We were supposed to go out to dinner with a couple of those in the family the next evening in Boston. We wives were to sit by ourselves while the men talked over business. I assume that it was what the FBI was going to ask for questions. They wondered what Big Tony's answers were going to be, when he was before the commission."

She didn't go on for minute, remembering. "He was supposed to be home by noon. I wasn't too concerned until it was time for us to get dressed to go out. I called one of the men that we were to have dinner with. He was upset immediately and said he would get back to me. That didn't happen until the next day. I had called your father from a friend's house and he said he had seen BigTony right after I had gone home. He gave your father a box of Chazzy's toys and would pick them up when he came up in the fall to close the house."

"Oh, I remember them. There was a bunch of checkers and some board games. Mom let me play with them but finally said she guessed I shouldn't as they belonged to you. They stayed around here all winter and then I guess Mom got rid of them, for I have never seen them again. Now what am I going to do about what I said to Chazzy? I didn't mean to hurt her feelings."

"I know you wouldn't. I don't have any advice for you. She'll get over it. It has happened often enough." I walked into the bedroom. Chazzy was lying on her side asleep facing the door. I could see tear tracks and where she had smeared them.

I sat in a chair across the room from her and occasionally glanced at her. I made the decision right then that some day she would have an operation. I dozed for a short few minutes I thought. When I glanced at her again she was sitting up and looking at me.

"I'm a bother aren't I? Did you want to say something?"

"Not really. I just came in to see if you were okay."

"Jones, let me build you a picture. You lying on my bed between Mama and me. Now that would be a bed full. Mama, still beautiful and me the monstrosity that I am. Wouldn't that be a picture to post on the refrigerator?"

"It would wouldn't it." Chazzy, your low self-esteem is showing again. We had a good relationship before your mother came. You seemed happy. I want to go back two months and have you like you were then. Can't you do that for me?"

"I know Jones, but Mom wasn't here and you had nothing to compare me to. You have to admit she is pretty."

"Yes she is and we can't alter the fact. Aren't you glad that she is?"

"Of course I am. Why oh why couldn't I look like her, or at least less like a freak?"

"There again, there is no answer and I can't help you that much. I'd do anything to make you forget. I am your friend you know." I walked over to her and indicated I wanted her to lay down. She had a scared look on her face, but she complied. I lay down beside her and held her hand. Slowly it tightened in mine.

"You know the warmth I was talking about isn't just the body heat you get from lying next to another. It is often the warmth in your heart and mind you get from a friend who you know cares about you." Chazzy nodded her head that she understood. For this time, I guess we were okay.

I had been concentrating on making Delores well. Had I neglected Chazzy? A person shouldn't neglect their friend. I made more of a point to give her more attention. I suggested walks and running together. I asked Delores to describe the location where the bodies my father had buried were located. It was of course on the old Smith property. I think that was why my father had made me promise to keep away from there.

The buried bodies had markers such as they were. Pine trees had been planted over the resting places and I assumed this was part of the work he was required to do as handyman. Nine trees, all at least twenty years old. They averaged six to eight inches in diameter. The so-called cemetery was about three hundred yards in back of the house. It couldn't be seen from the residence as it was around the shoulder of the hill. I kicked the dirt and could see it would have been easy digging. So my father had earned $9,000 doing this for Big Tony.

"I wish Dad was alive so I could ask him why he would do this. I will always remember him as a good man and I still think he was."

"If he was anything like you, I'm sure he was. Let's go, I don't want to think about people that lived and breathed under there. Your father buried them, but just think, my father may have killed them."

"I wouldn't think he did personally. Delores said he managed money. This was probably a place to dispose of something that needed to be hidden. He was most likely paid for the service just like my father was. Ask your Mom. She lived with this. I don't think she would if Big Tony did this on his own."

"You always find something good in everyone."

After lunch I suggested to Chazzy that we go up in the attic and start organizing the jumbled piles of boxes and junk accumulated over the many decades. There were some that took me back into my childhood. Mom had saved it all. School papers and scrapbooks of when I played sports. "You might be interested in some of this. My life laid bare."

"You wouldn't mind?"

"Nope. My life is an open book. I wish I could read all about your life."

"You must enjoy horror stories. I made sure that nothing of mine was ever saved." I shook my head, sorry for bringing up Chazzy's unhappiness again.

I ran onto several boxes of Dad's personal papers. It had several years of tax receipts and account books. Apparently he never disposed of anything. I sent these down from the attic for me to go through. Those of twenty years and before should be interesting. I might glean some facts about his dealing with Big Tony and his family. It might even tell me what Mom was paid as hostess to the retired mob members.

There were boxes of snapshots of the family and three family albums that had been compiled. I found several boxes of the toys I played with. Curious, my early toys were many that Dad had constructed himself. Then when I was six, more toys that had to have been purchased were showing up. Was Big Tony responsible for the better prospects of the Jones family? Somehow, I surmised it had to be.

Chazzy and I examined some of the furniture that was stored. Most of it was serviceable, for Dad had repaired any that had become broken. I decided that most of it would go to auction next summer when the season began. Summer people were suckers for up-attic goods.

The boxes of books went down through the attic opening to be looked over and some to be read. Others I would take out to be looked at and hopefully bought by some of the used bookstores in the area.

It was raining outside the next day. I gathered the boxes together and figured which ones were oldest. The journals were meticulously kept. Occasionally there would be a receipt between the pages, but for the most part there would be just an entry of a purchase and sometimes a little note of why something was acquired. There were separate journals for expenditures as well. There was even a note from Mom. Dad had saved this after Mom received her engagement ring.

I thumbed through most of these fairly quickly. I was looking for the time when Big Tony came to be involved with my family. As near as I could determine this happened about three years after I was born. There was a note: A very quiet Mr. Gabelli arrived today. It took six hours to make him comfortable. No expense. Paid $1,000 as agreed to. A week later Dad bought a used 1969 Ford pickup and paid $930 for it.

Two weeks later there was another note: Purchased new dress for Janice. She has been commanded to be present at BT's to play hostess to a guest of his. Paid $70 for dress. Upset with Janice for agreeing to do this. She says no other alternative. I regret doing work for BT.

A week later, another note. Guest arrived and to stay two weeks. Old, maybe in eighties. Arrived with BT's wife. Delores is young and very pretty. Janice likes her. Not worried about BT anymore. Janice rec.d, $400. Will be hostess again when chance arises. That was the next entry that showed.

I paused and went in search of Delores. "Do you remember the first time you met my mother?"

"Of course I do. I was so impressed with her. She was eight years older than I was. When Big Tony said there was going to be another woman in the house in the afternoons, I thought the worst. But then your mother came in and she was so gracious to me. When we had a chance to speak alone, she said she came from a well-to-do family. She had been disowned when she chose your father and his love over what her parents wanted for her. Not once did she regret her decision."

"That sounds like my mother. She could be comfortable in any setting." I went back to my father's journals and accounts. There were periodic notes when a quiet someone arrived, Dad earned his $1,000 to make them comfortable. He drew extra money also for some duties that exceeded his regular wage. One was a note that he would store BT's safe for the winter.

This was news to me for I had never seen a safe. Of course at the age I was when this was moved, I might not have thought anything about it. After all, this was terminated when I was age ten. Momentarily I wondered what had happened to it. As I slowly made my way through Dad's effects, I counted all nine of the personages that Dad had made comfortable.

I deduced that a real friendship had blossomed and that there was a common trust built between Mom, Dad, Big Tony and Delores. I would quiz Delores more about this if she continued to stay here with Chazzy. This all ended when Big Tony disappeared.

I couldn't get the thought of a safe out of my mind. Again I went in search of Delores. "Where did Big Tony keep his safe? I think he had my dad move it here when your summer home was closed every fall."

"He never mentioned a safe. This is all news to me."

Chazzy had come through the door and was listening. "He had a safe. I remember it. It was about two feet square. He had it hidden in the cellar behind a board wall opposite where the stairs were. When I snuck down one day to see what he was doing, he had moved the boards. At the time he was being so quiet, it was kind of scary. He didn't see me, but I think he heard me when I closed the cellar door, because he asked me a little bit later if I had been down there.

"I couldn't lie and he smiled and just said if I had seen anything, to forget it. I did until just now."

"I wonder if it is still in the cellar? And no Chazzy, you aren't going to break into someone else's house to see either."

I got a more than usual lopsided grin. "But I know where they keep the key, don't I? That's not breaking in."

"There are people living there now."

"They will be gone in a couple of weeks."

"We'll see."

"Maybe the diamonds that Uncle Mort is searching for are in the safe. They did belong to my father."

"I said, we'll see!" We both knew we were going to check out that cellar at some later date.

I really needed to start a new novel. My life had changed so dramatically with the two women in the house. I suppose my every whim was being catered to. Delores had almost completely recovered from her brain operation. Chazzy came to me one day saying that she felt closer to her mother than she ever did. Both were concerned that they would someday in a year or two run out of money.

Chazzy declared that she might have to call the producer that made her horror movies and say she would do one more film. She would be hired because this would complete the series that had been planned with the same characters. All Delores had was what she had received for the sale of her house. I wasn't asked and I certainly didn't want to become too involved in any decision they would make.

For recreation when I wasn't writing, the three of us would get into my van and go for a ride. Almost every time it was decided to go by the old Smith property and on down to West Dummerston. There was a convenience store there on Route 30 that we got snacks and milk, and it was here that we gassed up the van.

The road over this way was extremely winding and you felt sometimes that if you weren't careful you would drop right off the side of the mountain. I remember when I was little and how I was scared to death when Dad sometimes went that way. It cut off eight miles if you wanted to get to West Dummerston from our house. Otherwise you had to travel around by way of Williamsville or Brattleboro.

Twenty-two or three-years ago, some efforts had been made to take care of the worst of it. A new section had been constructed that alleviated the portion that was the most dangerous. For a couple of years the old section had been posted to pass at your own risk. It was totally closed now.