Joey had had several meetings to keep after his conversation with Saul. In the middle of the night, in a moment of cold, calculating determination, he had drawn back his fist and punched a man in the face. Joey is particularly adept at punching a man in the face. Done haphazardly, the bones in the hand can snap like breadsticks. But without even thinking about it, Joey Colicchio can land a devastating blow: fingers curled tightly, thumb on the outside, wrist cocked so the meat of the other man’s cheek meets the strong place between Joey’s index and middle knuckle. There is no swing; rather, a short sharp forceful jab; a direct path from Joey’s fist to the soft tissue of Giancarlo Rubio’s cheek. There is some adrenaline. Some unmentionable, addictive satisfaction. We don’t fuck around when you owe us, Joey had hissed. And you know, you’re lucky I’m here. Joey wiped his hand on his handkerchief. You’re lucky I came tonight, and not one of my guys. They’re not as nice as I am. Giancarlo Rubio had held the split fruit of his mouth with one hand and said, I know, I know, it’s coming. Giancarlo owns a restaurant in the growing Italian section of Carroll Gardens. Joey’s associates make sure his olive oil, his prosciutto, his wine, get to him on time. Undamaged. Giancarlo has a wife and five children. The children will be sleeping in their narrow bunks when he limps home, but his wife will pour him a glass of wine. She will hold ice against Giancarlo’s swollen blackened eye, will put pressure on the gash in his face until Giancarlo stops spitting thick mouthfuls of blood. Your children eat or mine do, Joey sometimes thinks of saying. But he cannot admit, or does not believe, that he has no choice. He no longer knows what part of his job is a system from which it is worth breaking free, and what part of it is an inheritance, a heart, the fertile earth out of which he grows.

The Jewish boy will take the job, Joey is sure. He can see something of himself in the young man. Lenny at the deli says he’s more timely than a grandfather clock and kind, cool, calm, even when the place is packed and the customers are foaming around the mouth with hunger and impatience. Joey trusts Lenny’s judgment—Lenny has been on the Colicchio payroll for years; he’s an invaluable asset in what’s otherwise Eli Leibovich’s territory. Joey can see that Saul will have a knack for the work, and that he will appreciate the benefit of a job that feels eerily like family. It is a good job for someone who has lost his roots. As Joey knows from personal experience.