Every Man’s Dream

He sat at the edge of the pool in his backyard, watching his reflection in the blue. He had smoked several bong hits before deciding to stare at himself ambivalently under the hot sun. Conrad decided he needed to skip school more often. His mother had opted out of life to become an alcoholic, never having to work a day in her life. Pah, college. Pah, working.

He got in his car and drove downtown to walk the streets of the city. It wasn't until he was stopped that he had been paying attention to any of his surroundings. The weed he smoked was the best on the market.

"Hey," a loud voice caught him off guard.

"Can I help you?" he said to the man.

"You look just like a friend of mine from a long time ago. Tony Amato." He kept his voice low. "Are you Conrad?"

Conrad stared at the stranger.

"Yes." He said slowly. He instantly regretted his answer, wondering if the man was on bad terms with Tony. Would he take his resentment out on a sixteen year old boy? The idea of being thrown into a meat grinder entered Conrad's brain.

Conrad felt his heart begin to beat faster as he saw the stranger erupt with laughter.

"He always told me his kid kept quiet. Come over for dinner tonight, bring Daphne."

Something about the man's demeanour made him trustworthy. Conrad wasn't the most street wise but he definitely kept a low profile. So what if an old friend may have stalked him? Perhaps he genuinely recognized the teen's features as similar to his old friend's. It was no bullshit that they looked alike – hazel eyes, a darker caucasian complexion, and brown hair, sharper cheekbones than average, full lips, and pointed eyebrows.

He chatted to the man longer, learning he was Al Esposito. A name he had recognized from hearing it around the house as a child. Prior to his death, Tony was a social man. He had known many friends and pals, connections and accomplices. All of each he remembered the names of.

Al had the ability to say a lot with little words. He told stories in a total of no more than thirty seconds, each sounding just as eventful as the next. He told stories of how Daphne was back in the day, but avoided speaking on behalf of Tony. For obvious reasons.

Which pissed Conrad off. He knew his father was doing murders on an everyday basis by the time he was thirteen. He figured that, as the man had never shared a single detail about his work life and neither did his close friends who often visited. By the time he had entered high school, he had pieced every missing detail together. And it shocked him at first.

"Ran into Al Esposito today." Conrad told his mother as he entered the house. "He wants us over for dinner."

Daphne dropped her wine glass.

"It's been years since I've seen that man. He always used to come around here with your father." She said reminiscently. "His daughter must be all grown up now."

It was the first time he had seen his mother leave the house in a while. Daphne wasn't a recluse but rather a home body. She wore a tight dress under a cardigan outlined in fur and styled her hair in an accordingly updo. Her red locks were swooped up, exposing her diamond earrings and matching necklace. She packed on eyeliner like there was no tomorrow.

Conrad dressed casual for the occasion. He had no one to impress. Daphne was free to act as though she was attending a gala on a cruise ship, something she oddly opted out on doing to stay at home with Conrad on nights Tony was invited to those things.

At eight o'clock sharp, they arrived at the Esposito's residence. It was at least twice the size of Daphne's property. It had numerous fountains out in the front yard outlining the walkway, along with freshly cut shrubs and a black custom made fence.

Conrad felt the natural envy anyone would have towards seeing such a put together entrance and extra large house. His wasn't small, but it was definitely not a mansion when compared to this. He sighed his insecurities away and got ready to be greeted.

A woman neither of them recognized answered the door. She immediately called for Al, dumbfounded and taken aback by sudden visitors.

"I told you I'm having dinner with an old friend and her son. We go far back in the past, hun." Al explained to the woman, who then snapped her fingers.

"Right." She remembered him saying such several hours ago once she returned home from the salon.

As soon as she disappeared out of sight, Daphne had questions.

"Third wife?"

"No, fifth."

The mother of his daughter, his second wife, left him for endangering the family at one point. Brigette couldn't risk her life any longer and chose to move several towns away, attempting to take Kathleen with her. Al won the custody battle through lawyers Brigette could not afford.

Kathleen was still in contact with Brigette, who was now a crack junkie. Something neither of the family members expected.

His new wife, Jillian, replaced the last four with her sheer stupidity. That was all Al needed, was a muse. Not a woman in control of what she desired. Not a boss lady. A muse. Kathleen tolerated her well but wished they would split up.

The parents chatted for hours at the dinner table of miscellaneous subjects while Kathleen and Conrad left to smoke a joint in her bedroom. They didn't recognize each other, the teens. It was so long ago that they had exchanged glances at an event that they had forgotten what they looked like. Conrad was suddenly attractive. Kathleen had platinum blonde dreadlocks and a topaz ring on her finger. Her nails were done professionally. Everything about her indicated she was a colourful person.

He wasn't going to make a move on his father's friend's daughter, however. Instead they spoke as they sat across from each other, stoned, whispering their personal issues to one another.

"I'm nearly failing English."

"I have to move fifteen grams of ketamine before next week. Do you know anyone who is interested? It's already Thursday."

"You sell drugs?"

Kathleen nodded.

Conrad laughed. Al clearly approved of his daughter's hustling.

"I also sleep with clients sometimes."

"You're too much."

"Sometimes the best power comes from other things than owning money." The girl said.

Power hungry people were silly to Conrad. They just looked vulnerable at the end of the day.

He listened to her stories of drug dealing anyway. This included times she got beat up, robbed, threatened, and so on. Her eyes averted to the wall every time she mentioned the importance of avoiding gangs and the mafia. That being one's own boss, if not, working for someone who does not associate with organized crime was the approach to be taken.

He wondered why she couldn't meet his stare. Was she traumatized from something she wasn't telling him about? Most likely.

"I advise you to rethink your decision about ten times before you do anything up that alley." She concluded.

"What makes you think I'm going to sell drugs?"

Kathleen laughed out loud, her expression reminded him of a kitten yawning.

"Every man dreams of slanging rocks at some point in their life."