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Gino “The Greek” Suraci pushed his way through the crowd waiting to get into the restaurant, knocking the host to the ground. He only slowed to step over the man as he pushed past the shocked onlookers. The Biltmore Hotel has had its share of drama, but nothing quite like this.
Scanning the room, he spotted the cause of his distress. Meeting the man’s eyes, he could see the fear. Good, he thought, the prick needs to fear me.
Ignoring all the stares and murmurs from the crowd, he made his way to the table. Then, without taking his eyes off the object of his rage, he said, “Get lost, sweetheart,” to the young woman at the table.
Anthony “the Nose” Arrusso nodded at the woman, and she fled the table, grabbing her wine glass before she left.
“Greek, what can I do for you?”
Suraci leaned down and grabbed the man by the collar. “You listen to me, you prick; you stay outta my fucking business at the port. That’s my territory, and I will use you for fucking bait on one of my boats if you keep trying to muscle in.”
He shoved the man, knocking him back off his chair.
The Nose glared at Gino but made no effort to stand. “Gino, is this any way to treat a friend?”
“You ain’t no friend. What you are is dead if you fuck with me, capisce?”
Making his way back out of the restaurant, he stuffed a couple of hundred-dollar bills in the pocket of the now standing but terrified host. “Sorry, pal,” he muttered, then walked outside like he’d just finished a fine meal.
The next day, Gino sat in his favorite seat at the Biltmore coffee shop, sipping his Americano. Despite his mother’s claim it granted longevity, he’d never developed a taste for strong coffee. All it did for him was keep him awake.
It never occurred to him to avoid the Biltmore after the shit show the night before. Fuck ‘em if they don’t like it was his philosophy. Although his bodyguard had warned him about habits and patterns, he ignored the advice.
He paid no attention to the two men using laptops near the fireplace. Just a couple of business guys using the free Wi-Fi as their office.
He also never heard the gunshots.
His next view confused him. He found himself inside an elevator dressed all in white with glorious music playing. He saw beautiful angels flying, white lights, and a huge set of pearly gates when the doors opened.
Approaching the gates, he is stopped by a powerful light pushing him back a couple of feet.
“Not so fast, pal, not so fast,” said a short but stocky-looking guy in white. “You’re on the reject list.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are? Reject list? How about I reject your head off your shoulders. Do you know who I am?”
“Yup,” the guy answered, tapping his list. “And you are still on the REJECT LIST!. See Ya.”
Suddenly, a voice surrounded them, and the little guy bowed away.
“You cannot come past these gates unless you do what I ask. Once this is completed, you may return, and only then will you be allowed into heaven.”
“Heaven?” Gino glances around. “This ain’t heaven. It’s some undigested food or that cheap scotch my idiot brother keeps pouring into the good bottles.” He turns and starts to walk away. “I’ll just wait until I wake up. See ya.”
A bright flash of light illuminates a cloud. As the mist clears, Gino saw himself sitting at the table in the Biltmore. As he sipped his coffee, the two men using laptops rose from their chairs, guns drawn and fired.
Gino saw the rounds striking him in the back and chest. As he watched in disbelief, he knew no one could survive that volume of fire. Stunned, he staggered and turned back to face whatever this place is.
“Wait, I’m really dead? That son-of-a-bitch Arruso had the balls to take me out? Hmm, okay, send me back. I’ll send the prick back in my place. Deal?”
The angel shook his head. “Not how this works, I’m afraid.” He tapped the clipboard in his hand, then pulled off one page. “This is a list of what you must do to be allowed in. Succeed and all will be forgiven, fail and…well, a few bullet holes will be the least of your problems.”
Gino read the first page. “Let me get this straight. I’m dead and can’t enter heaven unless I do this?”
“See, you’re not anywhere near as stupid as this says.” tapping the clipboard in his hand.
Gino glared. “And you’re gonna send me back where I can do things to change the past?”
The angel nodded.
“So send away, the first stop is the….”
The guy laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? We’re not sending you back to even the score with the guys who put you here. As a matter of fact, let me give you a little advice, don’t even think about it. It won’t end well. You have a chance few people get. Especially someone like you.
“Why the big guy chose you, I have no idea. I just follow orders.” The angel leaned over to Gino, looking down at him from the platform. “The moment you do anything other than what is asked of you. The instant you decide to return to your old ways and get some vengeance on anyone, you’ll find yourself in one of the circles of hell before your next breath…and not find it a pleasant experience. Clear?”
Gino stared blankly at the angel before him. He shook his head. “Listen, pal. How the hell am I supposed to do this?”
The angel smiled. “You’re a resourceful guy. Figure it out. Remember, the alternative is a permanent change of address to hell.”
Gino moved toward the angel, the old habit of hurting whoever got in his way apparently still very much part of his dead persona, but all he found was a handful of nothing.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, old habits. I get it now. So send away, will ya?”
“Remember, follow the list, and you will be forgiven. You get to pick someone to help you, but you can only guide them. You can’t directly intervene unless they are in danger. Once they are in a position to change things, you have to let them make the final choice.”
A mist began to fill the area, and Gino felt himself being pulled down through the clouds.
The angel watched him fade away, then shook his head. Never gonna happen. Guys like him never change. Why do we even bother?

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