I-Mend Amend Defend Press-Send
‘Are you boys going to sit there all night with the same cold coffee?’ smiled Lady De Bora with more than a distinct hint of sarcasm, as she glided between the tables of her milieu.
Lady De Bora ruled over the Crown with High Command. After all she had created this domain, her Universe, in her own image. Having said that she was always aware that dark souls and angry souls and out of favour souls would always need the safety of a purgatory within her solar system, just for a while, just to spin their own planets away from the prying eyes of authority. She wasn’t here to make a few pennies from tepid water poured over cheap coffee beans. She was a haven, a safe asylum.
The thing is with Lady D, and this is purely my observation, as a purely fictional Billy Bugle – she never for a moment discussed this – and I am not inside her head – God knows what it must be like to be inside her head; but the thing is she just knows where to glide, which tables to flow between, which spaces to allow the aura of the nebula to flow.
Do you know what I mean? You will – the more time you spend with her. She allows all to flow, she respects every private moment and she does it all, by having the flow in her grip and the privacy inhaled and translated deep into her soul. All being and all knowing is the price for all allowing the all flowing.
‘One hour boys and I’ll need to ask to you clear up after yourselves,’ she smiled across at the two tables of hunched over men, pouring herself a black coffee from one of her many bone china teapots. A coffee which was 80 percent brandy.
‘Of course Lady D’ was the courteous reply from the man leading the meeting in the corner of the diner.
This wasn’t just the price you must pay for Lady D allowing the use of the Crown many hours after closing time – that she insisted the tables and kitchen were left spotlessly cleaned for the next day opening.
It also amused her to watch this band of, well gangsters and dangerously dark bandits, to clean her eatery like teenage waitresses, after their shady meetings with agendas including every crime you could imagine and then some you could never imagine. She wasn’t watching because she liked a bad boy, as she sat at her table in the opposite corner. She was watching because she liked a bad boy doing what he was told.
‘So’ sighed The Don. (Yes that’s right. The Don.) The main man, the Mafia movie cliché. Well cliché is an unfair word because to be fair these men are portrayed as scary tough guys because they are scary tough guys. They’re portrayed as loose cannons well because they’re loose cannons. They’re portrayed as short-fused with their decisions because well, they didn’t study hard to get this job. They just killed their way up the ladder. And this Don was way too far up the ladder for his criminally unfit crew to reach him just yet.
Incidentally once you become The Don it appears everyone forgets you ever had an actual name. You become, simply, The Don.
‘We are all agreed’, The Don continued, his hands clasped together, elbows resting on the table, hunched forward, eyes scouring one by one into his assembled men, ensuring each was nodding their agreement.
Then, being certain his word had become the word, he tapped his big forefinger, adorned with a big ugly gold ring, three times, firmly on the table, next to his Consigliere – ushering a command to take note, ‘Issue a Step 9.’
Yes – Consigliere – because no Don should be without one, and Alfie Donato had been the best for many Dons before this one, pretty much the only constant with an every changing, well ever being ‘removed’, gang of bad guys. Trusted, respected and the safest man in the underworld.
Now, Step 9 when issued, would always put a meeting on an excited edge. Remember, this is a crew of very naughty people and they crave this mischief as an addict craves their substance. In fact its not just the act of the mischief they crave and clamour to be a part of, its the show of it, the creativity of what may come next. The razzmatazz of a tinsel town duel.
Step 9 is rare. I mean if it was a steak it would still be walking around the field its that rare.
For a Don to issue a Step 9 to an enemy or disloyal character, or uncooperative authority figure would really mean there’s a point to be proved and a message to thrash out into the underworld. This is show-time, this is a reboot of the darkness.
‘This time next week’ The Don concludes, tapping his finger a further three times next to Alfie, his fiery eyes catching the gaze of each soldier in turn. Each one trying hard not to show their excited anticipation of what may happen next. He nods, a little smile, he knows they will spend the next week wondering and gossiping and motivating themselves.
You see a Step 9 isn’t just a sniper hit, or an upper cut in an alley. Its an event. It’s a carnival of deadly behaviour meted out. It’s the West End of the pin stripe and violin case world. The Don will spend the next week planning like a wedding co-ordinator.
‘Now… you know what to do everyone’ he concludes, nodding across at Lady D as he removes his suit jacket and rolls his shirt sleeves to begin washing the dishes in her small kitchen. She follows him into the kitchen, to make another ‘coffee’, ushering the other helpers away for a moment alone with The Don.
‘So why Step 9, what are the other steps?’ Lady D asks as she starts to dry the soapy dishes washed by the Don.
‘There’s 12 steps’ he looks across at her with a sly smile. He’s a good looking man. The smile I think can melt, of course I don’t know because I am a fictional narrator but I imagine this is the case.
’12?’ she asks shrugging her shoulders as if to ask why.
‘Yeah’ he laughs ‘It’s a 12 step program’
‘What like the Alcoholics and Drug users 12 step program’ she sort of laughs a bemused laugh.
‘Yeah’ he laughs again looking down at the sink as he washes away like a dad on Christmas day.
This time her bemused laugh is mixed with a wide eyed look of disbelief.
‘You’ve ripped off the alcoholics anonymous 12 step program and turned it into some kind of Mafia Gangster Dictators handbook?’
‘Well look, ripped off is a big allegation, I haven’t even plagiarised. I’ve just taken the bits that suit me and ran with it you know?‘ he shrugs his shoulder, colour filling his cheeks as if his pride was ready to burst each blood vessel in his face.
‘I know what Step 9 is you know’ she carries on as she dries dishes leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for him to look up surprised, which he doesn’t. He carries on washing the cups.
‘Yeah of course’ he shrugs again, this time like a naughty school boy ready to boast about his mischief, ‘be willing to TAKE amends’
She shakes her head. She knows. And so does he.
‘You know full well its be willing to MAKE amends not TAKE amends’ she half heartedly scolds him whilst instantly guessing his game with her. This show of masculinity, which by the way she never loses when she plays.
‘Like I say’ he shrugs and huffs ‘I’m just using the bits that suit me like all the best scholars do, I am just walking in the footsteps of centuries of philosophers and Gurus before me.’
She laughs out loud, really enjoying this now, the disbelief fizzling into amusement. ‘You really are something’
‘Why thank you Lady D’ he turns to her smiling with a cheeky wink.
‘And how does you philosophy work? Your justification. I’m only asking out of a curiosity about the working of the mind of a man whos head has received many baseball bats.’
He smiles and winks again, ‘They’re all out there selling the same message. Writing books, teaching courses and peddling the same message just with a different twist. A slight new angle. Some shiny, some dark.’
‘Carry on I’m still listening’ she nods ‘just’
‘The bible of this, the bible of that, steps for this steps for that, this secret that secret, this monk that monk, think this grow that, the rich and famous don’t want you to know this or that’ he pauses, he’s trying to recall some book titles, some authors names to really show his knowledge, but then he decides maybe the mystery of not knowing might be more useful for his image.
Lady D can sense the cogs in his head whirring but she is in no rush. She is front row and letting him page turn away. Should this concept be his genuine view, then its quite astute, as well as humorous, yet on the other hand should he be inventing this philosophy on the spot as he washes her crockery, that’s equally as impressive.
‘I’m showing respect to these amazing forefathers of mine’ he says with zero irony, ‘twisting the words, with a nod of respect, to these many best selling authors who promise us it’s their philosophy which inspires and brings clarity and awareness, they are the mentors who will guide us. Just buy and read my thing, they say, you’ll find the ancient hidden secret or the higher power or the awareness or a new God, they say. And to be fair something does happen. But you do it yourself, all they have done is made you sit and daydream. All you find is the space already waiting in your mind, where your own creativity produces and ignites an energy and spark. You can do that yourself at zero cost.’
‘So you really are the new messiah.’ Lady D laughs out loud with no attempt to hide her sarcastic tone ‘you really are a modern day Robin Hood, stealing purpose from the Legends and giving to the poor.’
‘I like to think so’ replies The Don with equal measure of laugh and sarcastic tone. ‘I am translating their words for the good of my own people.’
‘You are a seriously twisted philosopher’ she laughs‘ none of these Legends or teachers or scholars intended their words for use in the way you action them. They are words for good, not words for rough housing’
‘Who is to say who is interpreting these messages correctly?’ he smirks with what could be either a valid point from a genuine scholar or an argumentative retort from a too big for his boots mafia Don, ‘there’s a trillion religions all using Gods words for their own translations. I’m just taking the bits that suit me and twisting the words the way they suit me, as those trillions do’ he concludes, and to be fair it was a sentence ender he truly believed and could probably have many hints of truth embedded in it.
Lady D, an old hand at this type of tennis of the minds, knowing this could play all night, is aware there’s valid arguments on both sides, yet actually isn’t particularly bothered with the results either way, especially as she needs the crew gone for some quiet ‘coffee’ alone time before bed. So she chooses her words carefully, in order to fade out this conversation, in her well tried and tested commanding style.
‘Step 9 is MAKING amends, not TAKING amends,’ she says knowing her summary will be followed by the Dons counter argument before his kiss on the forehead signalling the final curtain for the night. ‘A lot of very hard work goes on in the world and soul of the addict in 8 previous steps, aside from the tough physical battle to be free of addiction,‘ she continues drawing a long breath before continuing verbatim the words of step 9 engraved on her soul ‘Step 9 requires one to be willing to go to any lengths to make amends, provided they don’t end up causing somebody new or additional harm. The individual must be willing to take this step no matter how severe the personal consequences. If making amends requires the person to report a past crime, he or she must be willing to go to jail to complete this step on the road to recovery. The spiritual aspect of the mandate encourages the recovering individual to seek strength and guidance to do the right thing from a higher power and from the others engaged in the program.
Making amends must involve sincere efforts to apologize. The notion of being sincere involves adopting the right attitude before making an approach. One may need to forgive oneself and to forgive the person on the list for any actions done in retaliation. Step 9 should be pursued according to a plan that does not assign blame and allows the person who has been harmed the freedom to respond, even if the response is angry or unforgiving’
‘Touché’ The Don nods towards her, with a respect for her verbatim as well as the heart strings she tugged and plucked to deliver the words with a depth which gave him shivers, ‘I just work it the way I translate it. The same consciousness and awareness. The same intent and direct delivery. The same willingness and attitude to engage in the program no matter what reaction it receives. Just not with the clear lines that you have. I TAKE amends. I need a lesson to be delivered and I TAKE amends, on my terms, before they are offered, on the wrong terms. The one who is TAKEN from learns a life lesson too, more so than those making amends. Kind of. And for those in my family who don’t have the strength to seek the amends they are owed. Then we all go shoulder to shoulder with them and TAKE step 9.’ He finishes drying his hands with a warm smile completely out of context with his dark cold words.
‘You are truly consistent with your philosophy, I guess’ she smiles knowing her ‘coffee’ time is moments away. ‘You take the words of the wise that suit you, their examples and analogies and you get the meaning of life you seek.’
‘Let me tell you the only analogy you need in this instance’ he says, his big tall frame looking down on her as he unrolls his shirt sleeves and steps into his suit jacket, ‘how men, as I, who know what they really want, take the words they need, live the success and wealth they yearn for, whilst the others, the not so wise are weighed down with words and thoughts and trivia for years beyond.’
‘Enlighten me’ she sighs, ushering The Don out of the kitchen and turning off the light as they enter the dining area.
‘Take the analogy of the dentist’ he continues putting on his over coat heading to the main door as he speaks, ‘He went to study alongside the brain surgeons and oncologists and research consultants but he knew his purpose with more clarity than they did as young students. He knew a direct route to his purpose. They were weighed down with books and papers and dark tried eyes, from day one of their pressurised beleaguered journey; but the dentist, he felt light and empowered in his choice. Just give me the page on teeth he smirked ripping out page 7 of 45000 pages. He still got the wealth and the girl and the yacht but many many years before all the others. Night night Lady D’ he smiled kissing her on her forehead gently.