I took another sip of my bourbon. I danced the black bottom as Roses of Picardy played in the background, my favorite song in my favorite bar. This bar was practically the heart of Chicago both before and after they threw cool water on booze. The intricate wooden walls, the beautiful silk curtains on the stage that looked like they were weaved in the garden of Eden, and of course my favorite booth in the middle. 

       I saw Tice walk up to me. ¨How's the giggle water, Scarface?¨

       ¨Tice, you know I hate it when the press calls me that and now you?¨

        ¨I know, Boss, but who cares what the press calls you? You’re Al Capone!  We´re making so much dough from these speakeasies and bootlegging that it doesn't matter. Hell, they could call you a sack of lard and you shouldn't even bat an eye because we're making millions.¨ 

       ¨I guess you're right, Tice I do need to let loose a bit.¨

       ¨You're damn right you do!” Tice had about 20 dead soldiers to the right of him; he was so wasted he could barely sit in the booth without slipping out of the cool, leather barstool. ¨Ya know what you need, Capone?¨ said Tice as he savored another sip from his cold beer. ¨You need a vacation. Something nice, eh? I heard Florida is a beauty round this time.¨ 

       ¨I think you´ve gotta point Tice, I mean running the largest mob in Chicago is exhausting, and it would be real nice for me and the wifey to go on a little break together.¨ I looked up only to see that Tice wasn't listening and was instead flirting with some bearcat that was way out of his league. ¨Come on, Tice, it's time to get you home.¨

        ¨Whatever you say, Boss.¨ 

       Tice could barely walk straight. He looked like such a boob on the streets, so I gave him a ride home. He was spitting a bunch of banana oil about having something big in mind, but that was just some drunk nonsense. 

 

       Back from Florida, I smelled the Chicago air hitting my nostrils. I could hear the city roaring with life; I released a pleasant sigh. As nice as the vacation was, it was nice to be back in my city. I hoped Tice didn't mess anything up since I left him in charge. I went back to the Green Mill Bar. I had made an arrangement for it to be closed today so my boys could catch me up on what happened while I was gone. The vacation may have only been a week, but in Chicago, anything can happen. 

       Everyone seemed off when I walked in the bar. Their eyes shifted at one another as I walked up to Tice.  He had a smug grin on his face and was the only one who was acting normal. 

       ¨It's good to see you, Boss! I've got you some good news about that rival gang we've been having some trouble with.¨

       ¨That's great, Tice! You go over there and knock some sense to ‘em?¨ I  gave him a punch in the shoulder.

        ¨Capone, let's just say I knocked a little bit more than just sense in ‘em. I took the boys over there dressed up as cops and brought some tommy guns, and maybe, I dunno, bumped off bougta seven of their men?¨

       ¨That's a bit cruel, but it's a dog-eat-dog world. You didn't get caught though, right?¨ 

       Tice started to look a little pale. He muttered something under his breath, and his eyes shifted around the room just like everyone else before. It all made sense now. 

       ¨God damnit, Tice!¨ I said, throwing a bottle against the wall, the shattered glass making an ear-piercing sound. The pieces drifted through the air like dozens of daggers going in thousands of directions. ¨You know how bad this is! Our gang, our lives, our whole operation could go down in flames, and it’s all your f*&%$#@ fault!¨ Tice looked at me nice and smug. I swear I was so mad I thought I might have punched him in the face right then and there. 

       ¨Boss, you need to relax. The real cops don't know it was us, they just know that a rival gang shot ‘em up, and they just assume it's us. They have no proof. And besides, this will go down in history. Not only did we just bump off several men in a rival gang, but we did it on Saint Vals too nonetheless. Capone, the people will remember this, this will be a massacre to be remembered for the ages! Plus, just to be safe, I gave a few of the cops a generous donation  to sweep any investigations under the rug.¨

       What Tice said made me no less concerned in any way. Sure, the cops may not know who it was, but what other gang in Chicago is as feared and has as much motive as we do? Plus, even if the cops don't sweep it under the rug the press won't.

        ¨Did you at least bump off Mr.Sherman?¨ 

       ¨He wasn't there. But we were able to bump off Mr. Brisee, Mr Driessen, Mr. Haughney, and a few others, but Mr. Sherman wasn't there.¨

       ¨So, Tice, not only have you made it so that my entire gang empire could fall, but you didn't even bump off the ONE guy that we needed dead.¨ 

       "Capone, buddy, relax! Look, I know it seems bad, but I got it under control, and if you're worried about losing money, I made sure to pay the cops with queer, so you're not losing a single cent. It's a really good queer too. This guy I know, Victor Lustig actually.¨

       ¨Get out, Tice, you no longer work with me or my crew.¨

       ¨What?¨ said Tice with another stupid smirk.

       ¨I said get out.¨ 

       ¨Capone, Scarface, Boss! You don't mean this; you just need some time here… let me get you a drink.  I'll even put on your song Roses Of.¨

       ¨I SAID GET THE HELL OUT!¨ I took out my pistol and shot a warning shot into the roof, debris making a mess on the floor. 

       Tice, seeing I was truly serious, walked out, cursing under his breath. The gang members looked at each other, none of them even daring to make eye contact. I walked up to two of my men sweeping up the debris from my rage. 

       ¨You two. I want you to do what Tice couldn't.  Bump off Mr. Sherman and you will be compensated greatly for your troubles.¨ 

       ¨You got it, Mr. Capone.¨ 

       I could tell they both were trying to stay on my good side, a wise move. I then went to address all the other members of the bar. 

       ¨I want everyone to leave the building and have the day off; I need to let some anger out.¨ I looked at the bartender as he started to pack up his things. ¨Except you, me and you are gonna get well acquainted.¨

        As I sat down on the barstool the bartender looked at me with pity. He didn't say a word to me, he just poured me a drink and just kept to himself while I thought of something to clean up this mess Tice made. I wasn't worried about the cops, I was worried about the money. I could care less if he used real or fake money to bribe the cops that would cost me nothing. I was upset at Tice because this was really bad publicity. Bad publicity means less business, and that's when the money starts to matter. I needed something big, something that put both me and my gang into the good light. 

       I walked home in the rain.  I could overhear two homeless men talking on the streets.

       ¨Stupid liberals, we´re starving on the streets and we can’t even drink the pain away.¨

       ¨Exactly, maybe if they put some money into the little guy this depression would have never happened.¨

       ¨Maybe, but whoever made the Eighteenth Amendment, I’d like to show ‘em my Second Amendment rights.¨

       I forgot about how bad the economy was at the moment with the millions my crew and I were making. It was hard to notice. But then it hit me, if I do something to help the men and women of Chicago then they will see me as a hero, a man of the people, and with my image up, I could get back to making millions without having to worry about my image.

       I waltzed through the rain.  When I got home I got a piece of paper and started jotting down ideas. ¨I could do an animal shelter? But I would hate to be around flea-ridden rodents. Community service? Too much slave labor.¨ As I went to the fridge and pulled out some bisque for a snack, I got an idea.  A soup kitchen!¨ It's perfect. I'll just renovate one of my speakeasies, stock it up with some cheap food and give it to those starving devils, and it would barely cost me a dime. Then I can go back to my normal routine, my normal life.

        A week went by of me preparing everything to be ready for opening day. I went straight to the bar, once again making it closed for me and my crew.  But before I told everyone my genius idea I had to go to the two men I told to bump off Mr. Sherman to see if they got the job done. 

       ¨He was a runner, but in the end, we got ‘em, Mr. Capone.¨

       ¨Yeah, we gave him a nice pair of cement shoes, so I think we're not gonna see him again.¨ 

       ¨Cruel, I like it. Gentlemen, take this  for your troubles.¨ I reached into my wallet and pulled out  a couple of Jacksons for them. 

       ¨Thanks, Mr. Capone¨

       I went up to the stage and turned on the mic. ¨Gentlemen, as you know I recently had to depart with one of our finest members due to his careless actions. However, in order to keep this gang in the light our main focus is to work on our image to the public. In order to do this I have taken one of our speakeasies downtown and have made it into a soup kitchen. Speakeasies and bootlegging will still be running. I will just be at the kitchen for the grand opening, and then it'll be back to normal.¨ They all looked at me, speechless, the great Al Capone, head of the most vicious gang in Chicago, running a soup kitchen.  But they knew that I wasn't doing this out of the good of my heart. I was doing this for my image, and that was it. 

       As I drove to the grand opening of my soup kitchen I could see dozens of people all gathered around, both reporters and people in need. I'd rather be at home listening to my phonograph or back at one of the speakeasies to oversee the operation, but I had to do this tedious work for the sake of my image. As I went to the front of the building the crowd erupted in applause, the press took photos and the men on the streets hollered and whistled. 

       ¨Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to announce that the best soup kitchen in the entirety of Chicago is officially open! And for today and today only I will be serving the food.¨ Everyone in the audience cheered for me.

        As I walked into the building I was quite impressed by how revamped it looked. The shelves at the bar that once stored booze now held coffees and breads, the exotic ice makers once used to make incredible cocktails now being used to make iced coffee, and the once beautiful end tables that the important people of Chicago used for business offers were now replaced with long banquet tables. I was both impressed and disgusted by the changes.

        I put on a pair of gloves and got to work serving the starving devils of Chicago. It was tedious work. I would put some food on their plate, and they would shake my hand and thank me. After hours of this, I was getting both bored and tired, but then something changed. A mother with a little boy walked in. They were practically wearing rags, and the boy looked like he hadn't eaten in days. I saw them grab their food and sit at a table. I walked over to them and greeted them. 

       ¨How's the food?¨ 

       ¨Very good, thank you, Mr. Capone.¨ 

       ¨Yeah, me and my mom really like it.¨

       I looked at the young boy, who reminded me of myself when I was in New York his age. 

       ¨Here kid, take this.¨ I handed him a Jackson from my wallet. 

       ¨Thanks, Capone!¨ 

       The smile on both his and his mother's face made me feel good on the inside. I thought to myself, maybe I'm really doing something good, maybe this can be more than just a publicity stunt. I wanted to feel the high I got when I helped that family, so I decided to stay another week just to make sure the kitchen was up and running. But first I had to tell my crew.

       ¨Gentlemen, in just one day our entire image has skyrocketed. People love us and what we do, so imagine what will happen if I work there for a full week! I've decided to leave my new best man in charge, Almond!¨ He was one of the men who I had take care of Mr. Sherman. He was a hard worker in general, so I thought, who better to put in charge?

         I went to the soup kitchen, and once again I got that high from helping the poor people of Chicago. I started putting more and more effort and money into the soup kitchen. I started feeling better about myself and started questioning my true business and ethics. But I tried to stay away from those thoughts because I didn't want to know the answer. So I kept working in the soup kitchen, and the weeks turned into months, and soon I had been working at the kitchen more than the gang. 

       I was in my office after a long day of work in the kitchen. I sat there, sipping and questioning my life decisions. I felt like Socrates or Plato questioning my whole life, not seeming to be able to find an answer. What if I never joined my gang? What if I never left New York? I thought that maybe I was overthinking things, so I decided to get some rest. But before I did, Tice walked in with a bottle of scotch in his hand; he had an angry  scowl on his face.

       ¨I HATE YOU CAPONE! WE HAD hic SOMETHING GOOD GOING ON AND YOU RUINED IT! WE COULD HAVE hic IT ALL BUT NO YOU GOT MAD BECAUSE OF ONE hic LOUSY OPERATION. YOU'RE WEAK CAPONE YOU SPEND MORE TIME IN YOUR KITCHEN THAN YOUR OWN GODDAMN GANG! Hic WATCH YOUR BACK CAPONE BECAUSE YOUR GONNA BE A DEAD MAN!¨ Tice then just walked out of the building and gave me one more stupid smug smile; it was gonna be his last. I was filled with rage like a bull. I was going to kill that son of a b&%$#. The audacity for him to walk into my office and yell at me after everything he did. I took a deep breath; bad things were going to happen if I thought like a bull. But I was no bull, I was the matador, and Tice would be slayed with my blade. 

       I woke up the next morning. I would usually go to the soup kitchen, but that day was different. I went straight to Green Mill Bar.

       ¨Hey, Mr. Capone, we missed you! You've been gone for a while. Are you finally taking your spot back in the gang? Don't get me wrong, it's been an honor, but it's a bit nerve racking¨ 

       ¨I promise you I'm definitely going to take my spot back, but I need your help with just one more thing.¨

       ¨Anything for you Mr. Capone.¨

       As we approached our final destination, we busted down the door. We went to the study room, and we saw Tice in a leather chair. He had a pipe in his hand and a bottle of whiskey in his other. He was mumbling to himself; he didn't even notice when we walked in until it was too late. Almond pinned him down; he was dazed, asking what was going on. I put my gun to his mouth, and only then did he know what was going to happen, only then did I see true fear in his eyes. Tears slowly streaked from his eyes like raindrops on a car window. To think this man even had the audacity to kill seven men, yet he cried here like an infant. 

       ¨This will keep any more s*&% ever coming out of your mouth, Tice.¨ I pulled the trigger and watched the life drain from his eyes. I walked away with bliss in my eyes, and a smug smile on my face. 

-Reid H.