Page 40 of Marcello

“Calling to check in on my favorite nephew in Naples.”

“You have other ‘nephews’ in Naples?”

“Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t. Let’s concern ourselves with YOU. How goes it?”

“Good. I got a job, so I haven’t had to spend all the money you gave me.”

“I meant, how goes it with the errand I gave you?”

Oh.

“Well, I’ve got a promising lead.”

“What kind of a lead?”

“There’s a guy that hangs out in front of a place where I’m trying to get a new job.”

Fausto’s voice was utterly deadpan as he repeated, “There’s a guy that hangs out in front of a place where you’re trying to get a new job.”

When he said it like that, he made me sound like an idiot.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in the – ”

“Two months in Naples, and that’s the best you’ve got?” he interrupted angrily. “What the fuck have you been doing?!”

“I had to get a job!” I protested.

“Doing WHAT, pray tell?”

I winced, knowing how it was going to sound. “I’m a dishwasher at a pizzeria.”

“A DISHWASHER?!” he roared.

“I didn’t want to ask you for money,” I said in a panic, “and there aren’t many good jobs in Naples – ”

“I would have PREFERRED you asked for twenty grand and NOT WASTED MY FUCKING TIME!”

“…sorry,” I mumbled.

Fausto went silent for a few seconds. When he finally spoke, he was calmer.

“You’re young and inexperienced. I forget that sometimes. So here’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to redouble your efforts and make measurable progress in the next two weeks. Not just ‘finding some guy who hangs out in front of somewhere,’” he added mockingly.

“What’s ‘measurable progress’?”

“This fellow you’ve seen – what does he do?”

“What do you mean, ‘what does he do?’ He’s in the Ca– ”

“YES, I gathered, but what does he do when you see him? Is he drinking at a bar, or is he meeting with associates, or – ”

“My friend told me he sells drugs.”

“Excellent! Then I want you to buy drugs from him.”

I stopped dead in my tracks.

“…uh… what?”