A Well-Deserved Sub
I met Frankie at Casapulla’s just before lunch. After two weeks away, this was going to taste good. Bugs had already gotten the subs and was sitting on the bench across the street. Alex was next to him.
“Bugs!” I said.
He stood to greet me, then we both sat and I unwrapped my sandwich.
“I’m glad you’re back,” Frankie said. “How was the Coast?”
“No different than it was before I went.”
“That’s not what the papers say,” he said. “The papers mention a little trouble.”
“I may have heard of a little trouble,” I said, “but I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But the girls got home safe?” he asked.
“From what I heard, they did.”
“Hey, Rat,” Alex said.
Frankie slapped the back of his head. “That’s Mr. Fusco to you,” he said. “I told you that before.”
“It’s whatever he
