CONSIGLIERE #Wattys2015

Chapters 4 & 5

IV

"Val, you're late!"

Val ambled out of the front door quickly, slamming it hastily behind him, his StamburyHigh School faculty ID in one hand and car keys in the other. As Val strolled briskly to his blue 2003 Mercury Sable, contemplating Dale Erikson's level of annoyance upon his late arrival, Val became unnervingly aware of a strange rustling from the bushes beside his condo. He stopped momentarily, tilting his ear towards the bushes and pretending to be sorting through his keys, which he subsequently dropped upon hearing a sound that terrified him.

The clicking of a gun, about to be discharged.

***

Ten minutes later, Val was flying down the highway, still severely disturbed by the morning's incident. Perhaps he imagined it? No, it was a gun. He'd seen The Sopranos far too many times as to know when the pulling of a trigger was legitimate.

Although Val had only minutes to spare, he took it upon himself to pull into Stambury's local coffee shop, Janee's. Being a man who drank at least four cups of dark roast a day, it only made sense to grab his morning fill following what had been about a near panic attack in front of his home.

Now, Val rushed out of Janee's with a steaming Styrofoam cup of coffee that warmed his hands and slowly calmed his nerves, as he gradually came to terms with the fact that his earlier terror was most likely an overreaction. Shoot downs don't happen in Peverhill, he reminded himself as he strode to his Mercury. At least, they don't happen in my part of town.

Val's thoughts were prompty interrupted by the familiar sound of a trigger being pulled, and the whizzing of a bullet that passed only inches from his head.

***

"You have approximately fifty-five minutes to complete your tests," Val clarified with as much enthusiam as he could muster, placing a blank Scantron form on each desk. His hands still shook slightly from the narrow escape outside Janee's, after which he decided it would be much safer to enclose himself in the Stambury high school than to return home. Amelia, also a teacher, was at work across town in the local elementury school. Val called her cell regardless, determined to keep her safe and warn her of the bizarre dangers he had encountered.

"Val, I don't think either of us should go back to the house until we contact the police, same with the kids. Should I drop off Kevin and Katrina at your mothers'?"

Val had sighed and rubbed his eyes, with Shelton standing beside him sympathetically. "Yes. Bring them there. And please don't go home, okay? Shelt and I will call the police."

"Wait, are...are you going to call your cousins, too?" Amelia hesitated.

"Yes."

"Val..."

"Don't worry about me, okay? Everything will be fine. Joe and Floren will know what to do."

"Yeah, I know, Val. They're mobsters, remember?"

Now, hours later, Val still dreaded the thought of leaving school, finding relief only in the fact that his cousins, experienced Sicilian mobsters, would be able to track down this apparent psychopath nutcase. He resumed his place at his desk, and the students began their testing in silence.

"Mr. Arlotti?"

"Yes, Thomas?"

"If quizzes are quizzical, then what are tests?" Snickers erupted throughout the classroom, though Val didn't hesitate to answer.

"Probably also quizzical in some sense," he said. "But there are several other adjectives that could describe tests as well."

Several senior girls giggled from the front row, eyeing Val flirtatiously. It was a look that both Val Arlotti and Shelton Wallace had become quite accustomed to in their years of teaching, though Val remained unsure what it what about him that attracted the girls. For Shelton, it was undoubtedly his alternative band, his good looks, and his single status.

With the students silent once more and focusing intently on their exams, Val took it upon himself to organize the dishevelved classroom, in which he taught Earth Science, Chemistry, and Engineering. Val was still rearranging his classroom, lost in thought, when he heard a small, sharp knock on the side of the door. He turned to face Roberta Yards, the bitter, middle-aged Life Skills instructor at Stambury High.

"Mr. Arlotti? Do you have a moment?"

Val followed Roberta out of the classroom, who was now appearing pale and mildly uneasy. "Val, Shelton told me about what happened to you this morning," Roberta began in an almost berating tone. "And quite honestly, I don't think it's right for you to be present in the building today. If I were you, I would have gone straight to the police..."

"The police have been notified, Ms. Yards," Val attempted to appear calm, secretly wishing the pungent woman would cease to frequently henpeck him about his decisions. "And so have my family, so you don't have to worry about Amelia or the kids. It was definitely an enormous scare, but I'm confident to get to the bottom of this quickly and painlessly. But, thank you for your concern, Roberta," Val began backing into his room once more, hoping Roberta Yards would get the hint that this conversation was now over.

"Wait, Val! Will you still be attending the Rotary Club Dinner?" Roberta leaned casually against the doorframe, her sharp eyes drilling into Val's with scrutiny. "Personally, I don't think-"

"I will be, Ms. Yards, and my family will be staying with my mother for safety reasons."

"Are you sure that is a wise decision, Mr. Arlotti?"

Before Val could reply, Thomas began shouting once more from the back of the room, initiating Val to roll his eyes and turn his attention to the student. Roberta Yards stood watching the man for several moments, the sharpness in her eyes fading gradually into a painful desire.

V

"Mr. Martolli, I thought we agreed I would be carrying out the assasination of Valentino Arlotti?"

"I was unsure of your honesty, Agnese. I am, however, afraid that the bullet missed his head quite carelessly, and I now live in concern that he may be onto us. Are you aware that this man has connections to a crime family of his own?"

"I understand, Mr. Martolli. The Arlotti family remains a substantial threat to our own. Although, I must admit, sir, I am confused. Valentino himself remains uninvolved in any organized crime; what makes you want to end his life so?"

"It doesn't matter if he's involved or not, Agnese. The Mob is still running through his blood and his children's blood."

"I understand, sir."

"Agnese, you are attending some rotary dinner tonight, yes?"

"I am, consigliere."

"Then take this cyanide, ragazza, and do what must be done."