"Joe"

BS Google

I lived in a very tough neighborhood in Poughkeepsie back in the early fifties. And I lived in an apartment so small the mice would come out hunched- back. How tough was it? Well, it was so tough these gangs would steal hub-caps off of moving cars!

I was the smallest guy in my gang. In fact if you look at my high school year book, under my picture it reads, "photo shown is actual size"!

On the corner, across from the Italian produce stand where a one-eyed dog would sleep under a bushel of escarole, was a small ice cream and candy store run by a little guy named Joe.

Don't ask me why, but Joe looked after us kids like we were his own. Even when we stole from him, he would chase us down the street and drag us back by our greasy "D.A" hairdos and make us work off what we had taken. And if the cops ever nabbed us for something, Joe would calmly tell them, "let me take care of the kid". And Joe did.

He took care of us. That was fifty years ago. More recently, Joe, who is now eighty-five years old, came all the way out here to Dearborn, Michigan to visit me and my family. "I just had to see how you and your family were doing," he told me. And he also told me about his battle with prostate cancer. "But don't worry," he joyously shouted. "The surgeon who operated on me told me he had gotten all the cancer"! "That's great, Joe". I told him.

"But wait till I tell you who my doctor was". He sat back and screwed his gray eyes up at me. "You're not going to believe this". "I'm waiting, Joe", C'mon, tell me". my voice cracked. He leaned close as tho revealing some deep dark secret. Then, exhibiting a smile that revealed a small space between to front teeth, he asked me, "Remember that Aiella Kid who lived in the brownstone across from you guys"? My jaw dropped. "You mean Vinny Aiella? The kid who was always getting caught stealing?

The kid you kept out of reform school? That kid"? Joe shook his bushy, gray head in affirmation. "That's the kid," he replied mysteriously.He continued, "After the surgery, he came in to see me, and when he told me we had gotten all the cancer, I said, thank you, doctor; and he said to me, 'Joe, I thought it was time I did something nice for you' ".

Then, tilting his face upward, he spoke to some invisible entity, "Who'da believed the kid would return fifty years later to save my life". "Well", I murmured while shaking my head in bewilderment, " I suppose there are those things far greater in heaven and earth..."! And that's the truth!

Thank you, Respectfully, Gabe Renzo

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