Page 58 of Marcello

One other thing:

Even if I died right now…

Even if the Camorra drug dealer killed me instead…

Or if Buzzcut shot me…

My family would still be okay.

Fausto’s words echoed in my head:

If you happen to perish in the line of duty, then I will release you from your obligation.

If you die, your mother, brother, and sister will be safe.

That calmed me down a little.

More of Fausto’s words floated through my mind:

I suggest you consider yourself to already be dead…

A departed soul whose only aim is to make sure your family remains safe.

That might make it easier for you when you inevitably have to make some… UNPLEASANT choices in the underworld of the Camorra.

No fucking shit, it was an unpleasant choice.

However, I wasn’t suicidal.

I didn’t want to die.

I wanted to see my mother, brother, and sister again – for all of us to be free and safe –

So I made my choice.

“Alright,” I agreed.

Buzzcut looked surprised. “Really.”

“Yeah. Do I have to kill him, though?”

Buzzcut and Lametta both stared at me.

Then they looked at each other –

And burst out laughing.

“What the fuck’re you gonna do, shoot him in the dick?” Buzzcut asked.

“Well,” I explained, “I took a business class where I had to read a book called Freakonomics, and one chapter was about drug dealers in a US city called Baltimore. There was a huge problem where all the street-level dealers were killing each other. The cops kept getting involved and cracking down, and it messed with drug sales. So all the bosses got together and made a rule where the low-level drug dealers couldn’t shoot to kill. Instead, they’d shoot each other in the ass.”

“What?!” Buzzcut exclaimed, almost in disgust.

“Yeah – it was a way of humiliating the other side and taking over territory, but nobody died. The cops stopped cracking down as hard, and business improved.”

Buzzcut stared at me like I’d been speaking Swahili. “So… you want to shoot him in the ass?”

“I mean… it’s better than killing him, right?”