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Swattpup1989

Marco Villano - The Baker

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It was the evening of September 5th, 1989 and the weather was as normal in New York for this time of the year. However, this day was not like any other day it was the day Jimmy and Marie Villano would bring their son, Marco, into the world. Marco was born an average size baby with no complications, but, based on photos he can see from the hospital that day, his family was no small or ordinary family.

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Growing up it was clear his family was different. Everyone had an accent and as the years went on it seemed the family never stopped growing. Every year there seemed to be more and more people he hadn't met the year before. It wasn't like it was just more kids being added...it was adults too. He never really understood where they all came from nor how his family afforded everything they had. Their house was anything but normal. But the neighborhood gleamed with culture and was home. They lived in one of the most Italian ran neighborhoods in New York... Little Italy. He constantly heard stories about how his Great Grandparants and their parents fought to survive in this country coming over from Castel Marrone on a boat. They were immigrants. Throughout his years in school he heard about immigrants coming over from Italy and was always proud to say his family originates from Italy and his grandparents were immigrants coming for a better life. However, some kids in his school always had choice words to say about his family being immigrants which lead to him getting in trouble constantly. As the years progressed and so did his knowledge, he began to understand why the family kept getting bigger. It wasn't that he had never met these people...it was that he was too young to go to all the functions.

Upon reaching the age of 15 his parents brought him to a local bakery in Little Italy. It was owned by his uncle...or so he thought. The thing with Italian families is everyone is family. The community sticks together and knows each other. This guy was a very dear family friend that went by the name Uncle Tony. Marco didn't know if it was his real name or not, but, he respected his parents wishes and called him Uncle Tony. Upon walking in it was clear this wasn't any ordinary bakery. The booths were filled with men in suits and they all kept their heads down and talked quietly, but, their eyes watched everyone who came through the door. When they walked in everyone instantly chimed up greeting my parents, then their eyes glanced at me as if sizing me up. I wasn't a big kid but I wasn't a small kid, I knew how to hold my own. Then out of nowhere I could hear my Uncle Tony speak in this thick Italian accent, "I see Marco has finally become of age to work at the bakery. A lot of the family has been waiting for this day." I looked at my parents surprised, they gave me no warning of this. I thought to myself, "Work in a bakery? What could I possibly learn here." Little did I know this was just a front for things I wasn't involved in. I was 15 and clearly too stupid to notice but as the years went by I began to realize things...lots of things. Uncle Tony was a shot caller for someone. These men in suits would come and go all day long getting envelopes and bags from my Uncle. I also began to notice they were all carrying a gun and would never speak unless my Uncle told them to. My Uncle was also on the phone all day long talking to people. In my mind I began to realize that I had never seen him work a single day in the bakery yet he had all this money.

Fast forward a few years and it's my 18th birthday. Up until this point I was only ever allowed in the front of the bakery where we helped customers and into the kitchen area in back. The downstairs was off limits to me and any other employee working there. However, on this day, my Uncle walked up and grabbed the back of my neck pulling me closer to him. He leaned forward to me and spoke softly, "Today...today you become a man Marco." I had no idea what he was talking about until he opened the door to the basement and all I could hear was loud voices and these thick Italian accents. As we made our way down the stairs and these guys caught a glimpse of me it got quiet...too quiet. I thought I was in trouble, but, out of nowhere I heard a man in the back of the room speak up. I had never heard or met this man, but, he spoke as if he knew me, "Marco it's finally your 18th birthday and it's time you become a real Italian man. Over the years you have worked nonstop in this bakery and showed you can follow directions. You have always taken care of your family including THIS family. Today you become one of us." I looked at my Uncle Tony and began to think about those words and one thing stood out, "THIS family". What could it mean, what family, who are these people. My Uncle walked over to the man in the corner and grabbed an envelope. He turned and walked over to me and handed it to me following it up by saying, "Take this envelope to the deli down the block and tell them it's from Uncle Tony. Do not look in the envelope." I nodded my head and began to walk back upstairs. I didn't ask questions nor open the envelope even though I wanted to. I arrived at the deli and walked in, they greeted me as normal, "Marco nice to see you." "Does your mom need more Prosciutto or Pancetta, it's been a while since she's been in." I just shook my head and walked over to them handing them the envelope. They opened it and pulled out a piece of paper and nodded to me, then began to walk over to the cash register and reached under it. They came back out with 5 envelopes that were decently thick, my mind began to wonder what was happening. They put the envelopes into some butcher paper and wrapped it up then threw some cold cuts into the bag with it. They looked at me and just said, "Tell Uncle Tony and the family we say hello and thank you." I nodded and just looked at them for a minute before heading back to the bakery. I walked back inside and made my way down the stairs, handing the bag to my Uncle Tony. Him and the man in the corner sat down opening the butcher paper smiling. The other men in the basement just looked at me and watched me, not saying a word. The man in the corner said something and then all I heard was, "Happy birthday Marco and an envelope came flying at me." It was an envelope from the deli, upon opening it I realized it was filled with money...they all were. The envelope had at least $5,000 in it...I wondered, "Is this how the bakery makes money? Is this what these men do all day?" I didn't ask questions, I just said thank you and asked if they needed anything else before I headed back to work.

As the years went by, I was asked to do more and more of these favors. I never asked questions nor went against their rules. I just did as they said. However, not all these favors were done easily nor willingly fulfilled by the other party involved. The one time it went wrong was the final time I went on these errands alone. I began to have to do these with someone I referred to as Cousin Mike. He was older than me, much older. He always had a gun and he was a bigger man, the one time I asked about him, I was told he was an enforcer type man and just makes sure nothing happens to me. I never understood what they meant by Enforcer until I got much older, but, that's besides the point.

On my 30th birthday during a routine favor I had been doing for years I remember receiving a phone call from my Uncle Tony. I had just left to run the errand and he just said to me, "Marco come back to the bakery immediately, we need to talk." I told him I hadn't completed the errand and I would be back soon, but, he insisted I come back regardless so I did. When I walked in it seemed like the place was going to burst there was so many people inside. A lot of the women were crying or had been and the men were just stone cold. The man in the corner who I still had yet to meet came up to me and introduced himself as Don. I didn't realize this at the time but Don wasn't his name. He was the head of the crime family I had been running errands for. He informed me that my parents had died in a car crash and that their last wish was that I could explore the world and learn more about it. It had been 15 years since I had began working at the bakery and 12 years since I began working for these guys. The Don informed me that he wanted the wish fulfilled, that the family would be there if I ever wanted to come back, but, he had a parting gift for me. We walked outside with me still in shock and he handed me a set of keys. Sitting in front of me was a brand new car and I now had the keys to it. He looked to me and told me to go have some fun and enjoy the world, when I decided to come back their would be a place for me in the family due to my loyalty. All the men began to come out of the bakery, hugging me and shaking my hand. Uncle Tony informed me that I needed to get some experience in the world and once I had I could come back to the bakery if I wished. They all said their goodbyes and then in one fell swoop told me to get the fuck outta there.

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