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George Pollock State KidIssue 52
The Mother from Hell
“What's wrong with you?” Billy's mother asked as she flapped into Director Carson'soffice like some exotic tropical bird, all lipstick, rouge, gloss and bottle-blond plumage.Her long, gold-glittered artificial nails protruded like talons, over-sized and aggressive.She reeked of perfume. “How come you didn't call?”Billy, dressed in jeans, sweatshirt and sneakers -- his strategic need for a suit having passed -- took a perfume-laden breath. “I'm sorry. I was busy. This is Director Carson ...Captain O'Toole... Vera O'Toole.”“Where's your suit?” the mother asked her oldest son, reprimanding him for being under-dressed.Billy was at a loss for words.“Well, Mrs. Stone,” Director Carson said, stepping in.“Narchos. Mrs. Narchos. Narchos Construction. That's my husband.”“Yes, Mrs. Narchos. I have heard of Narchos Construction. Very ... very, er ... big.”Mrs. Narchos lifted her nose. Vera blinked rapidly, her early-warning system kicking in.“Just have to ask you to sign some papers,”Director Carson said, spreading the papers onhis desk and handing Mrs. Narchos a pen. “Your acceptance of custody.”Mrs. Narchos signed. “That it? We can go now?”“Yes.”Director Carson turned to Billy. “Well, there's the door, Billy. All you have to do now iswalk out into a fine spring day -- a good day to start a new life, I would think.”The Director reached over his desk and shook Billy's hand.“Thank you, Mr. Carson,” Billy said. “It worked, didn't it?”“Yes -- and I'm glad it did.”“Congratulations,” Captain O'Toole said. “Justice has been served.”“Now you and your officers get to get out of prison, too,” Billy said, smiling.“Yes, as soon as the correction officers' night shift comes on.”“Mission accomplished. No casualties. Not bad, huh, Captain.”Captain O'Toole and Billy shook hands.“All this hand-shaking. An old man told me that, way back in history, men shook handsto show that they were not reaching for a sword. I guess we're still doing it.”“Well, I'm not going to shake your hand,” Vera said, pulling Billy to her.
 
As they hugged, Billy whispered, “Behave yourself.”“If she says one more thing...”“Let's get out of this place,” Mrs. Narchos said.Vera was about to respond. “Not here, please,” Billy said into her ear.“Okay, but she's asking for it.”“What's with the whispers?” Mrs Narchos said. “Let's go. I got things to do.”***Billy and his mother went out the front door into a fine, bright, late afternoon spring day,with Vera following. They met Wally Witkowski arriving for his shift.“Wally!”“Billy! You're leaving. You're really leaving. You're free!”“Yes, and I see you're still on the graveyard shift. Wally, you've got to get on days. I'mgoing to talk to Carson. The guards are back tonight?”“Yeah. Now that we've gotten rid of you, things can get back to normal.”“Let's hope not. Tell the guys that they're going to get the hearings and everything elsethey've been promised.”Mrs. Narchos, visibly impatient, looked at her watch.“Well, I've got to go, Wally. Thanks. Okay, later.”“Later, Billy.”Billy turned around just in time to catch Vera throwing herself into his arms -- again.Attached like two powerful magnets, they indulged in a languorous hug and kiss, Verasneaking a peek at a sour-faced Mrs. Narchos.“Until tonight,” Vera said.“Until tonight.”Vera went back inside. Within minutes, she would leave for home with her Dad, CaptainO'Toole.***Billy lifted his face and took luxuriant notice of cottony, bright-white clouds movingalmost imperceptibly in a robin's-egg sky.“What are you doing?” Mrs. Narchos asked. “We're late.”“Nothing ... nothing at all ... just looking around.”“Well, your stepfather is waiting for us.” They walked down the driveway. “Wait till yousee your new home, son. Brand new. Finally, after struggling year after year, a home of my own. You don't know how hard it has been for me. One rotten job after another ... nomoney ... always sick, just when I just get back on my feet...living in one dump after another. Oh, you don't know how hard it's been. But now, Nicholas -- that's your stepfather -- is so good to me. I don't have to work. He buys me anything I want. We're
 
going to take you out tonight to the best restaurant in town. Wait till you see the waiters jump up when we walk in. It's wonderful to have money, son. From what I read, you'renot doing too bad in the money department, either. Don't worry, Nicholas -- that's your stepfather -- will invest it for you so you'll never have to work and can still buy anythingyou want.”“About the dinner tonight. That's very nice of you, but I'm afraid that I already made plans with Vera-- a lobster feast to celebrate. Maybe tomorrow night we could ...”“Don't be ridiculous. You can go out with her any time. I'm your mother. We're taking youout and that's that.”They reached the car, a long black Lincoln. “Billy, this is your stepfather, Nicholas Narchos.” Mr. Narchos thrust a hairy, bejeweled hand out the car window. “Glad to meetya, kid. Call me Nick. Welcome back to the world. Heard about that book deal of yours.Don't worry -- I'll invest it for you, put you on easy street. Get in.”***On the way, Billy heard the rags-to-riches story of Nicholas Narchos: How he and his brother came to the U.S. from Greece and started out as construction laborers, saved their money, went out on their own, and built Narchos Construction from scratch:
 How did we do it? Simple. Beat up the subcontractors. You want to make it big, you haveto kill the subs. We slaughtered them;
how they built a gorgeous retirement home for their mother,
a palace, a goddam palace complete with slaves to wait on her hand and foot 
;how Narchos Construction was third in New England now,
but we're gonna be number one in two years, easy. Know how? Simple. Buy the pols. In the big time -- and this is thebig time, kid -- you gotta have the pols in your pocket. Everything and everybody is for  sale, kid, remember that.
The life story of Nicholas Narchos, with emphasis on lessons learned, was still gushingforth by the time they pulled up to the house, which was huge, white-pillared, gated,immaculately landscaped -- a screaming arriviste billboard. Also living in the sameneighborhood was none other than District Attorney John Conroy, whose house Mr. Narchos pointed out as they drove by it.“I own the guy,” Narchos said. “And you know what? He came cheap. I woulda paid himmore, but I didn't have to. Another thing to remember, kid. The bigger you are, the lessyou have to pay.”Despite having seen Billy at work on TV, Nicholas Narchos never considered that a braggadocio moment with his new wife's kid might not be a swift idea. The kid was a kid.It would fly right over his head. Billy thought:
So Narchos is paying off Conroy...imagine that 
.***Inside, Mr. Narchos excused himself saying, “Gotta go squeeze a couple of subs. Couplaguys think I'm playing. I'm playing all right -- playing stomp on their freakin' necks.”Mrs. Narchos said of her husband of three months, “That's a provider. Always pushing, pushing. Pays for all this.”She led Billy up a wide, formal staircase. “Never thought I could ever be so lucky. Year 
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