I would like to do two more installments to this if there is any interest... one about Danny... one more about Uncle Saul's business... all comments are welcome and will not be deleted...
When I was a young kid, both of my parents were tragically killed overseas. They were on vacation in Israel and were collateral casualties in a café bombing. They were never the target of the suicide bomber, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was just a child, and after they were gone, I found myself alone. Now that I'm older, I have learned, that at the time, no other family members seemed to want me. I eventually went to live with my uncle, my father's brother. I didn't want to go with him, cause he kind of creeped me out back then, but as I grew older, I understood, it was either him or I was going to be a ward of the state.
My impressions of Uncle Saul were always somewhat jaded as a child. He was kind of a social outcast in our family and was tolerated because, like him or not, he was still family. He seemed to always be around our house when I was a kid, mostly mooching a free meal or sucking up dad's alcohol. I think he was really a decent guy, and tried to be nice, but he just didn't know how.
He was loud, crude, obnoxious, annoying, over bearing and crass, especially to the women. He was prone to over drinking and that's when his off color, nasty jokes and lewd behavior, which embarrassed everyone, began. Always before the party ended, his sexual propositions and loose hands on the female house guests would commence.
I remember many a night after a house party, overhearing my mother complaining to my father, that Uncle Saul grabbed her ass, or Uncle Saul propositioned one of her married friends or Uncle Saul told the nastiest joke. My father would just shrug it off, saying "He's my brother, what do you want me to do? He doesn't mean anything by it." but it was just his way of being loyal and avoiding a confrontation with her. Still, every time he visited, he ended up drunk, copping feels off all the female guests and trying unsuccessfully to lure one of them to his bed.
He wasn't a "butt ugly man", he was just mostly unkempt. His shirt always seemed wrinkled and stained, his suits never fit him quite right, he wore these loud colorful ties and was pretty much physically out of shape. A good tailor, a laundry service and a few days at the gym every week would have improved his looks 100%.
My father was a doctor, a very successful doctor and he always made a distinguished looking figure. He was smart, he played the stock market heavily and was apparently very good at it. Maybe not the young model face you would see on the cover of GQ, but handsome and always well dressed. He was about 5' 9"s tall, maybe 165 pounds and always seemed dignified in his appearance and manner. I was very proud of him, he was my hero. He made an effort concerning his presence, unlike Uncle Saul.
Uncle Saul was about the same height as my dad, but well over 200 pounds. When he wore a jacket, it was always tight, I don't think he could have even buttoned it if he had to. The sleeves were always too short, the top button of his shirt was never buttoned around his chubby neck, even at their funeral, so his tie knot never looked quite right.
Maybe he couldn't afford anything better. He reminded of one of those sleazy car salesmen at those used car lots. I know he had a string of unsuccessful business ventures and that my father had loaned him money several times for his latest start up hair brained venture. They always went belly up for one reason or another in a few months, with a ton of excuses from him, that it was never his fault.
Still, and maybe because of my father helping him so many times, when my parents were killed, he agreed to adopt and raise me. So, for that, I was glad.
I was a loner at school, not many male friends, no best friend to speak of and definitely no girlfriends. For some reason, girls didn't interest me too much and I was just trying to find my way, feeling alone in the world.
I was 5' 8"s tall, about 140 pounds, not effeminate, but not masculine at all either. I was just a skinny kid that even as a teenager, had not started shaving my face yet because no hair grew there. I think I was a good kid, I did well in school, I minded my own business and I kept to myself. I was what you called a loner, a social misfit.
Growing up at his house wasn't really that bad either. He provided adequate room and board. There was always food in the icebox. He bought my clothes and essentials and gave me pocket money occasionally. He was almost never there though. Nothing was ever expected or demanded from me except a few chores. He never bothered me and the only time I really ever saw him was when he came home at night. It's not like he treated me bad or with disdain, it's just that he offered little in the way of guidance or friendship.
He had begun a new business adventure just recently, something nefarious and illegal I'm sure. I think he was actually making some pretty decent money for a change, as his wardrobe and house furnishing improved dramatically. From what I gathered from his muffled phone conversations, I think he was some kind of a pimp. I'm not lying, and I had no concrete proof, but I would often hear him on the phone speaking in a muffled tone with phrases like "She will be there at 10PM and the rate is $500, her tip is optional." or "What kind of guy are you looking for, be specific, I can accommodate all fetishes?"
I just distanced myself from it all and turned a deaf ear. Uncle Saul was always up to something that spelled trouble.
I moved out exactly two weeks after the day I turned 18. The day the court decreed I was an adult, and the day my inheritance, my father's trust fund and my parent's life insurance policies finally kicked in. I had been looking at places to move into for months and had found one that I liked. I had planned on going to college, but the trust fund's monthly pay out was staggering to me.
Apparently my parents were very well off, worth millions, and it appeared I would be getting in excess of $15,000.00 per month pretty much for life, so I decided to postpone college for a bit.
All the sudden, I was rich. I had never had any real money in my life and the first pay out was staggering to me. I had lived a meager existence with Uncle Saul for 7 years and now could afford just about anything I wanted.
I rented a studio apartment a few days later and busied myself with buying furniture for it. Uncle Saul started being extra friendly to me then, which I'm sure was the result of my new found inheritance. After my departure from his house, he would often drop by my new place unannounced to visit. When he would visit, he would always give me a big hug like we were best buddies and tried to make small talk, which just made me uncomfortable until he finally left. One day, he suggested I should give him a spare key to my place, just in case I needed it, or if an emergency arose. Without thinking it through, and quickly regretting it once I did, I gave him one.
I got into a routine the next few months. I wasn't a good cook, so I ate at restaurants mostly, which were close to my apartment pretty regularly. I kept some groceries in my ice box, mostly fruit, juices, frozen pizzas and junk food, but took almost all my meals at my favorite restaurant, which was a few blocks from my apartment.
My life spiraled with all the money that kept getting deposited into my account monthly. I literally couldn't spend it fast enough. Within four or five months, my account had become substantial. With the first day of every month, it just got bigger and bigger, the deposits just kept coming. I had a new wardrobe, a furnished apartment, got a driver's license and bought a new, but small car. I even bought a computer, a PlayStation and an X Box. I bought just about anything else I ever wanted. Life was good, but I was basically alone, something was missing.
