Moses Maggio and the Godfather

“The boss would like to see you now.”

They pushed Freddie through the empty Italian diner and sat him down in front of Moses Maggio. He was finishing up a plate of Mama’s Meatballs. Freddie sat down staring at the red and white checkered table cloth as Moses picked up his napkin and wiped the red sauce off the corner of his mouth.

Freddie was afraid of Moses. Moses was a hero to his people. He lead them out of Italy to this amazing land of the free. Moses also spoke for the Godfather. No one but Moses saw the Godfather. The Godfather set all the rules for the community. Many doubted the existence of the Godfather, some said Moses was making him up to keep order. Those who spoke against Moses were often taken care of and made as an example.

“I have heard some troubling news about you, Freddie” spoke Moses with a raspy whisper.

Freddie shuffled in his chair waiting to hear the charges laid against him.

Moses reached over and caressed Freddie’s cheek. “Have I not been kind to you? Have I not provided you protection? A place to live? Food to eat? A family to belong to? All I ask is that a few rules be followed.”

Moses pulled his hand away and sat back in his chair, placing his arms folded over his stomach. “What’s this I hear about you picking up sticks? Freddie, you know it’s the Sabbath. Yet, you openly defy me and the Godfather by strutting your ass up and down MY streets and picking up sticks? Freddie, your forcing my hand here.”

Freddie lifted up his hands in defense. “Moses! I didn’t know I couldn’t pick up sticks. I needed a little wood for my oven. My wife is cooking a big meal and we ran out of wood. I meant no disrespect!”

Moses sighed. “Hey, I don’t know what to tell ya. I’m going to go back to the kitchen and talk to the Godfather. I personally would love to let you off with a warning. But, it’s not what I want to do, it’s what the Godfather commands.”

With that Moses leaned on the table and pushed himself up. Moses wheezed as he walked to the kitchen, every step buckling under the weight of his body. Freddie watched every step waiting for one of Moses’ knees to blow out like an overinflated tire.

Five minutes passed as Freddie waited nervously. Moses came lumbering out. The momentum of his body carried him back to his seat in front of Freddie. As Freddie looked at Moses he noticed garlic bread crumbs around his mouth and neck of his shirt.

Moses cleared his throat. “Well, Freddie, the Godfather has spoken. He said we need to stone you.”

“WHAT?” screamed Freddie as he tried to stand up, but immediately two men from behind him grabbed his arms and restrained him. “This is insane! Did you even talk to the Godfather or did you just shove bread into your fat face?!”

As Freddie was yelling the men started to drag him out of the diner, knocking over tables and chairs. Freddie pulled himself out of the men’s arms that were dragging him. “How is it against the Godfathers law to pick up sticks to cook dinner for my family, yet it’s OK to pick up stones to kill a man? How is that fair, Moses?”

The men that were dragging Freddie hesitated to grab him. They wanted to hear Moses answer. The room got silent. Moses looked up from his plate. “I don’t make the rules, I just execute them. The Godfather has spoken. Unless we remain loyal to him, he’ll do to us what he did to the Sicilians.”

“No one has seen or heard the Godfather but you, Moses. Most of the people think your loosing your mind! You want me to believe you saw the Godfather in a burning olive bush? Oh wait… whats this…. I think the Godfather is speaking to me…” Freddie reached over and picked up a glass sitting on a table and put it up to his ear. “Yes, Godfather? He’s giving me a revelation. He’s telling me your full of shit!”

Moses stood up and flipped the table. The teetering fat man now appeared to be a towering behemoth. The room felt darker and heavier every step Moses took closer to Freddie. Moses grabbed Freddie’s shirt collar.

“You are the reason we stone people who pick up sticks. First you pick up sticks, then you question the law, then you question your boss, then you question the Godfather. People like you are an infection. A plague on our community. Getting rid of you is cutting off a gangrenous finger. Better for one to suffer than all die.”

Freddie stared at Moses in the eye. “The only thing your protecting us from is moving forward. You can continue to cut off parts of your body that you think are infectious. Eventually you’ll run out of parts to cut off. All that will be left is a stump on the ground. An abomination of a human being groveling in the dirt. As you lay in the dirt not able to walk or even feed yourself you’ll remember it started with your finger. That seemingly unimportant finger.”

Moses threw Freddie into the arms of his men. “Get him out here… you heard what the Godfather said…”

The two men looked at each other waiting to see what the other would do. Moses turned around and paused for a moment. “I don’t think I need to remind anyone here the penalty for not heeding a command of the Godfather, do I?”

The two men grabbed Freddie and dragged him out the front door.

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About Foologian

Creative writer. Fascinated by Jesus. Appalled by religion. Sarcastic to a fault. Lover of humanity.

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