The Best Revenge Read Online Free

him in, a shrunken human stuffed by a careless taxidermist. He was trying to hold his head up to see me, an eye clouded by cataract. He took an unblinking look, then let a rich smile lift the ends of his mouth as his voice, still bass though tremulous, said, “Ben-neh!” which made my name sound like the word “good” in Italian.
    “Mr. Manucci,” I said, and took his hand in both of mine, which were cold. His hand was warm, for he had long ago abjured nervousness about anything that life might bring him.
    “You a much big man now,” Manucci said. “In papers all time Ben-neh Riller present, Ben-neh Riller announce, Ben-neh Riller big stars, big shows. You bring Gina Lollobrigida here I kiss her hand. I kiss her anything,” he laughed. “Magnani, you know Magnani, she more my type. I tell people here I know you when you just a little Jew kid this high.” He held his hand up flat to show my height when he saw me last. “Your father, Louie, he just a shrimp, how you get so big? Oh, this my niece, Clara. I call her Clarissima, she best woman ever in my life.”
    Clara nodded, blushing.
    “Clara go two colleges,” he said. “Last one where all snob girls go, whatsits name?”
    “I’ll leave you two,” she said.
    “I tell you something,” he said. “Don’t stand like idiot, sit, sit, I sit all time.”
    I pulled a chair close to him.
    “That’s good.” He sighed. “How’s your father?”
    I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. “He’s, well he’s been dead a long time.”
    “I know, I know. He talks to me once in while. He must talk to you, too, no?”
    We understood each other.
    He went on. “Clara tell me you coming, I near cried. I miss your father. I don’t mean business. I had all business I need. I mean Louie stories, jokes, make all women here laugh, cry, he could been Don Juan the whole Little Italy if your mother not such a beauty dish herself. People I do business with old days make my pocket so rich I can’t spend if I live two hundred years more, but Louie he make my heart rich every time he come here. He was like family, I tell you.”
    Unembarrassed by the rush of his emotions, he brushed his eyes with the back of his sleeve and said, “Anything I can do for son of Louie I do. What kind of trouble you got?”
    I told him a short version.
    “Your investors stink,” he said. “No loyalty. Clarissima!” he shouted. “Bring Strega!”
    From the other room Clara said, “Momento.”
    “You in trouble, Ben-neh?”
    I nodded.
    “Money trouble?”
    I nodded again.
    “Who with?”
    How do I explain?
    “Everybody?” He laughed. “Always that way. Never mind. You try banks?”
    I nodded. “No dice.”
    His laugh was raucous, spittle glistening in the cracked corners of his mouth.
    “Very good, no dice. Must remember. Banks take no chances. God bless stupid banks make Manucci family rich.”
    Clara put two cut-crystal glasses with Strega between us, disappeared.
    “How much you need?”
    “Four hundred twenty-nine thousand dollars,” I said.
    He emitted a whistle. “Ho boy,” he said, then leaned forward. I was afraid he might fall out of the wheelchair. I pulled my chair closer to his.
    “Know something,” he said, “don’t give half that much to one party even when I was king around here. Never mind. Nineteen seventy-nine dollar nothing. When you was boy, Ben-neh, five cents buy big ice cream, five dollars get someone off street for good. Last week my friend Paolo paid one buck for a shoeshine, you believe that?” The old man sighed for the past. “Never mind. You need all one time?”
    “Yes.”
    “When you need? Yesterday! Everybody always need money yesterday. Right?”
    I nodded.
    His face turned hard. “I got bad news for you. I no do this no more fifteen years maybe. When you lend, you got to collect. You got to be stronger than the stupidos who collect for you. When my legs go, eye goes, pecker goes, I say, Aldo, retire.”
    He read the utter disappointment