If you haven’t
been to Christmas at the Maratzzos, then you haven’t been at any
Christmas at all.
Indeed, it was a
splendid gathering for a splendid time of year. Often while
purchasing supplies for the party, members of the Maratzzo blood
would look upon other shoppers and silently look down at them with
condescending glares, knowing that their Christmas get-together could
not even come close to one that has been in esteemed practice for the
past one hundred years.
However, this year
all members of the Maratzzos knew it would be much different. It was
not too long ago that Joseph Maratzzo, son of Don Maratzzo and next
in line to be patriarch of the family, was released from the state
prison. It was some time ago that Joseph raped and murdered a 14 year
old girl of the bank of the Philamabury river. He was caught almost
immediately, and was originally set to be sentenced to thirty years;
however, lucky for him, Joseph’s father knew many people in the
state legal system and his sentence was reduced to six.
Despite this, it
wasn’t Joseph’s crime that was the problem. The Maratzzos have
had a long history of running bad into the law – perhaps almost as
long as their Christmas tradition – and so Joseph’s behavior
could be easily excused. What was the real problem was Analissa
Maratzzo, sister of Joseph, who for quite a few years now had been
indoctrinated into a fledgling feminist movement. Analissa had known
about Joseph’s felony and asked the family multiple times for him
to not only be declined an invitation to the Christmas party, but
also to be exiled from the family altogether – two punishments that
carried much the same weight. Of course her pleas had fallen upon
deaf ears, and eerily in the weeks coming up to the fateful Christmas
gathering she had suddenly gone silent. Now was the night.
The first to arrive
were cousins Pesco and Maribel. Pesco was a good friend of Joseph’s
– their history extended much before Joseph’s prison sentence,
and they in fact kept up their relationship via regular prison
meetings. Maribel, born Maribel Shaufter, had been indoctrinated into
the Maratzzos via marriage, and by this point had become used to
their ways. She, much like Pesco, Don, and Don’s wife Maria,
believed Joseph to actually be innocent, despite overwhelming
evidence otherwise.
Ironically, the one
person who believed this evidence was the next to show. Analissa came
slung on the arms of her own boyfriend, Monticello, a hippy man from
the west that her parents despised. Analissa herself said nothing off
suspicion – in fact, she even gave her cousin Pesco a hug when she
first saw him, which had always been seen as out of the ordinary, and
likely the first hit that something was wrong.
After this followed
some brief time where the family all got together in the living room
to talk amongst one another. Monticello was introduced to Maribel by
Analissa – though beyond that, she hardly said a word. Maria had
thought to bring up Analissa’s disfavor towards Joseph multiple
times, but continually decided against it. This all lead up to
Joseph’s ultimate arrival.
He came with no one.
He wore a fresh suit with a mahogany tie. His father was the first to
greet him – then his mother, who embraced him with a warm hug. All
this time Analissa stayed in the living room, never moving, waiting
along until everyone else had finally gone into the dining room. She
followed.
It was only when
everyone finally settled that Don realized something was wrong. He
turned toward Analissa to his right and in a gruff tone asked where
Monticello was.
Analissa shrugged.
“No idea, pa. Probably out having a smoke.”
“We’re about to
have dinner and he’s out back having a smoke?”
“I’m not his
mom.”
“I’m not saying
you are, but he needs to be here. Go get his ass back.”
Joseph, who was
aware of his sister’s distaste for him, perhaps tried to remedy the
situation by siding with her and calming his father down. “I’m
sure it won’t take him too long. Let’s just start now, alright?”
As agitated as Don
was, he couldn’t help agreeing with his favorite son. And yet, as
dinner went on, Monticello continued to be absent. By the end of the
dinner, both Don and Maria seemed completely agitated. While they
were distracted, Analissa tapped on Joseph and Pesco, who were
sitting together.
“Can I talk to you
both, for a bit? In private.”
Pesco knew what was
coming, though perhaps Joseph was a bit more ignorant. Though Pesco
tried to convince his cousin not to go through with it, Analissa had
rushed them just enough that Pesco had no time to do it. And so the
three made their way to the garage.
Perhaps a more
romantic writer would say that, in the end, Joseph got what he
deserved. But I am not a romantic – I, in all honesty, am more of a
realist, and can say with complete certainty that Joseph Pescetti
Maratzzo spent his last moments on Earth choking on a mixture of
lead, vomit, and his own blood.
Pesco squirmed back
into a corner while Analissa held the gun shakily in her hand.
“What the fuck,
are you crazy? What are you thinking?” Pesco no longer seemed to
have the mental stability to bargain with his captor. Though, as it
appeared, Analissa herself didn’t quite know what to do either.
“I’m doing
exactly what needs to be done, Pesco. I know injustice when I see it.
I’m sorry you couldn’t see it the same way.”
Time stopped as
Pesco looked for an out. In a quick and desperate leap he dashed
toward the button to open the garage in hopes that he could get out
just before Analissa could get a clear shot. Yet, as the door opened,
he realized what was really going on.
The opened garage
revealed Monticello in his black pickup. Analissa hopped on, though
not without giving some last words to her cousin.
“I’ll be
watching you and this family. Don’t try to pull any shit like this
again, or I’ll know.”
By the time everyone
else had come to investigate the noise from the garage, Analissa and
her boyfriend were long gone. Don and Maria loomed and sobbed over
the corpse of their once renowned son. One thing was for sure –
Christmas would never be the same.
