Selective Memory
by Glen Bramlitt
Prelude
Vertigo Insurance - the pinnacle atop a long list of corporate insurance agencies. It chugs the mom-and-pop business like a cheap draft beer barely after its poured and then chases it with a double shot of Fortune 500.
It has established itself as being able to put together insurance packages that no other company could match or surpass. It has become the business model for any small business that expects to become successful. Not by being the tyrannical shark of the corporate world, but by doing what works.
Because of its widespread coverage, Donald Trump once called Vertigo Insurance - the Wal-Mart of the insurance business. And because of that, it now holds insurance policies for everyone from the trailer park mom to the Hollywood celebrity and has become the stiffest competitor among top insurance agencies.
Vertigo Insurance once started as a small time organization. Nestled away on a lonely block somewhere on the east side of Manhattan in the early thirties, it started with only a few agents and just as many clients. Three small business owners sold everything they had and invested in a startup insurance business. It was a time when businesses were either booming or struggling to make it to the next week, so they received no help from any of the local banks. The risk was too large.
Minus the corporate giants in downtown New York City, a small business had to compete with the likes of bank secured companies, unions, investment properties - and the mob. Spend a five dollar bill on a cheap bottle of whiskey and before the bill could even be laid flat in the cash drawer, an enforcer was there to take a third of it. No business was safe. The founders of Vertigo Insurance knew this and so when they started the company, they devised a plan to keep themselves from being forced into handing over precious dollars to people who didn't deserve it.
Insurance was a business with lots of potential during those times.
Even through financial depression, families and businesses needed insurance. Life insurance, car insurance, health insurance - everything needed to be insured. Even money.
For those that could afford it, insurance was a warm security blanket. For everyone else, insurance was that kid on the playground you had a crush on, but knew was way out of your league. When Vertigo Insurance came along, it aimed to change that.
Vertigo insured the uninsurable and the less fortunate. At the time, it might not have been the best business model or even the smartest one, but to the poor it was a life saver - and for that, it began earning loyalty. And in this business, loyalty goes a long way.
Vertigo Insurance realized that if it was going to survive, it needed a long term plan - and that meant take-overs. Establish loyalty. Gain a multitude of followers. Offer deals no one else can. And then pounce on the competition while they're down.
It was a necessary evil for the times. Dog eat dog. Every man for himself. Kill or be killed. You get the picture. This was business. And business was good only if you were at the top of the food chain. You needed to make it good.
In order to gain this amount of loyalty and followers, Vertigo insurance turned no one down. They even had a low cost plan for the homeless. The "soup kitchen policy". Volunteer at the soup kitchen three times a week, and be insured for medical examinations and flu shots. Soup kitchens never had so many people willing to volunteer.
Vertigo's popularity grew like syphilis through an unprotected cat house. The founders returned every penny they could back into the company to offer what no one else could in hopes of reaping long term benefits. They also knew if they let their guard down, it would be over. The mob would come in like a virus and destroy everything they had worked for at that point.
So they waited.
They waited for the day when the mob didn't come to them for what they wanted, but what they needed.
Vertigo protected itself from the mob by redefining an age old strategy - my enemy's enemy is my friend; but in order to gain the friendship of my enemy's enemy, I must first be friends with my enemy.
This would hold true for either side. As long as it was insuring the mob, the mob didn't mess with them. And because of this, they were free to do business with the same people the mob took money from.
Offer protection from the bully - but then at the same time, offer the same protection to the bully.
If Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Notthingham had a love child - Vertigo Insurance would be a bouncing baby boy.
Sounds confusing, but it worked.
Everyone needed insurance. Including the mob. After all, it wasn't unheard of to read about a known or suspected mobster being gunned down on a street corner in broad daylight. How much would that shiny new casket cost and would they spend their own money to bury one of their own? And heaven forbid a bullet hole is found in that shiny new car after last nights police chase. Your business was just burnt down and all of your money was inside in a lock box? No problem Mr. Mobster - Vertigo Insurance has your business and your money covered.
By the time the fifties came around, Vertigo Insurance had both the mob and the businesses they harassed covered. It was in the perfect position because it had something both sides needed - security. It was the mercenary both sides hated to love.
Through the eighties and by the nineties, the mob business was nothing but a nostalgic movie and Vertigo focused on providing life and auto insurances. It survived the God Father era but had kept the loyalty of its clients - and their families. It was the first choice among recommended companies.
Over the years it continued the business model of 'buy now the potentially threatening startup company; lest ye be later bought up.' The only customers Vertigo didn't have were the ones who chose a different company out of spite and the families whose small time insurance business was taken over by Vertigo - and there were a lot of those.
Many families over the previous fifty years were forced to close up shop, sell the business, and then purchase a policy from the very company that forced them out of business because it was the best deal they could afford. It was a bitter, but necessary pill to swallow. But it was just business. And now...business was good.
Chapter 1
Cooper Brady was having a typical morning - a hot cup of coffee in one hand, a warm donut in the other, and strolling through the Manhattan branch of Vertigo Insurance looking out for his three favorite things: cleavage revealing low cut shirts, mini skirts, and the next big opportunity for an office prank.
Cooper had a pompous swagger about him that radiated "I'm a bully" ...and a douche. Though he dressed professionally and had a nice smile, his personality made you want to poke No.2 pencils through his eyeballs.
Cooper worked the auto insurance side of the Manhattan branch but it wasn't rare to see him perusing Vertigo Insurance's other lucrative side; the life insurance side. How he became division head of the auto side was beyond even the lamest. Sure he could sell rust to the Tin Man, but he was a real dick to work with.
The Manhattan branch established itself as the "SNL" office. Their agents had a knack for improvising in a pinch and pulling off the most difficult deals; but internally, if you didn't watch yourself, you were part of the entertainment - mostly led by Cooper.
Many agents had come through and gone from that branch. Only the quickest of wits or strongest of nerves could survive there. If you had both, you had a long career there. Missing either one meant you were leaving in a matter of days either crying or ready to come back with a sub-machine gun.
Cooper wasn't about to denounce his role as prank leader and so he was always on the prowl for the next big opportunity.
The branch manager, Gilbert Shaw, was far to busy to play babysitter so he figured as long as the troops were meeting goals, which they often exceeded, there wasn't a need to step in. Besides, it was a good filtering mechanism. If they could make it through Cooper's onslaught of office humor - they could make it through the most difficult of clients.
After having had his fill of donuts and mini skirts, Cooper decided it was time to get some actual work done. After all, if he wanted to keep up the fun, he needed to bring in some business and show his worth.
He was just coming from the auto side when he made his way past the restrooms.
The coffee and donuts were starting to wreak havoc on his bowels and what better way to greet the auto insurance side than to leave them a gift of early morning foul regularity. A smile graced his face as he imagined the surprised look of nausea on his first victim.
He was barely two steps into the men's room when he noticed a sound that radiated like music from his television during late night skinimax - light moans.
His first reaction was to look around and see if anyone else was witnessing the same thing. Surely he couldn't be the only lucky voyeur.
As he quietly strolled through by the sinks, being careful not to alert he was there, he noticed something else; these weren't synchronized plural moans - these were singular. This definitely required further investigation.
Quietly, Cooper knelt to determine which stall was being graced by this gift from the heavens. The furthest stall had exactly what he was hoping for - two feet.
They looked guilty, too. Pointed a bit inward and quivering, whatever was going on in there, they were serving to keep the rest of the body as steady as possible.
The moans continued sporadically.
Cooper crept a little closer all the while wondering what he had done to deserve such a treasured opportunity to humiliate someone else.
Cooper stopped a few short feet from the stall. He needed something to remember this monumental occasion. Something that would help him spread his joy. Pictures.
Cooper pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Whoever was in there was going to be an overnight sensation.
With ninja-like stealth, Cooper quietly entered the neighboring stall. Luckily the door was already open and the toilet lid was already down. It was as if an angel had paved his path.
Cooper quietly stepped up onto the toilet and pressed a key on his phone to activate the camera mode. In position and armed with his paparazzi-esque tool of trade, Cooper was ready to capture a moment in time that was sure to be the demise of any future date for whomever was in the next stall.
Slowly, Cooper began raising his arm to get his camera into position.
He needed the best possible picture as he would most likely only get one shot at a good picture. He steadily raised himself to peer over the stall wall.
He couldn't wait to see who was in there.
The motion in the neighboring stall paused briefly, then continued. Cooper played out his motions in his head. He wanted so bad to look first just to see who it was, but he knew if the meat beater saw him, it was over. He'd miss his opportunity to save the moment. He would have to look and get the picture at the same time.
He was ready.
In one quick motion, Cooper peeked up and over the stall wall and gave a loud and thundering "Hey!" As soon as the phallic massager looked up, Cooper snapped the picture on his cell phone.
This truly would be a day to remember.
Chapter 2
Zachery Wilson sat straight up in bed out of a cold sweat.
The Monday morning alarm clock on the bed side table read 5:00AM and ironically blared "Strokin" by Clarence Carter. It was an evil reminder of the previous Thursday.
Zach could only hope that whatever picture was taken would be so out of focus and pixelated that no one would recognize it was him.
No doubt Cooper's weekend project consisted of Photoshoping some sort of front page spread.
Perhaps the reason he hasn't received any calls about it is because Cooper didn't have anything. Zach could be so lucky.
Maybe Monday wasn't going to be so bad after all.
Zach made his way to the bathroom, but not before turning the television on to the morning news.
Not his morning ritual, but he figured since he hadn't really watched any television in the last several days, he'd catch up. The long weekend was better suited for watching every episode of Seinfeld than to be bothered by pointless news about troops still in Iraq or how Britney Spears is back in rehab.
The news just seemed to repeat itself. If there was something important to know, like zombies taking over the world, he'd find out for himself.
Besides, barricading himself in his room, ordering pizza the entire weekend, and watching television was much more entertaining.
Just as he typically remembered, the news started with the usual; crappy weather and last night's sports. Who cared it was going to be hot and sticky or that the Yankees won the World Series - again. Skip all of that and just go right to the important stuff. The headlines. Surely there would be something about celebrities making asses out of themselves or some local business being broken in to. Hey, maybe it'll be one of ours and we can offer additional coverage, he thought.
Zach had just started brushing his teeth when the headlines began.
"And finally, all searches have been called off for the body of suspected former mega mob boss, Valentino Lentini."
This was not the news Zach had hoped to hear. He nearly choked on his cup of rinse water.
"For two days now, authorities have been searching the Hudson River beds for Mr. Lentini's body after he was reported missing by his nephew, Rufus Lentini."
Zach, leaning out of the bathroom, could only stare in shock and hope that this was some sort of cruel joke.
"Valentino's Cadillac was found in the river this past Friday, however, no body has been recovered in the search efforts. Rufus Lentini is listed as the sole beneficiary of Valentino's fifty million dollar life insurance policy."
Zach plopped down in front of his bed. "Shit! No, no, no." Wanting to turn the television off in hopes that not hearing anymore would mean that it didn't happen, he could only continue to watch in horror as his biggest client turned up missing.
"Valentino has remained reclusive the past twelve years since being released from a twenty five year prison sentence. And while the FBI continues to monitor his residence the only last known photograph is his FBI prison photo."
The television screen shows a much younger Valentino Lentini in prison garb fashioned only by his slicked back hair and the prison number he's holding for the photograph. Stereotypical of suspected crime bosses thirty years ago, his eyes are piercing and his cold stare would make you turn around and walk the other way if he ever approached you. The muscles in his face revealed that back then he was fit.
No doubt he started as an enforcer and made his way through the ranks until taking over the business. Probably by some means of force or betrayal.
Nevertheless, he didn't look the same when Zach first met him.
Chapter 3
Just as years past, Vertigo Insurance turned down no one. So when Valentino approached Zach a year and a half ago, Zach ignored the rumors and went about as he had been taught - sell the product.
Just setting up the meeting was a chore. Valentino had tight security. Close circuit cameras. Rottweilers. Hired security detail. Private doctors. No one got in to see Valentino unless you were about to meet your demise or you were vying for a position in his stable of security.
Valentino was one of the last known suspected crime lords from the fifties and sixties.
Times changed. Long gone were the days of busting into a local store and demanding thirty percent. As technology advanced, so did security alarms and law enforcement. Those two all but killed the opportunities he had been used to. When Valentino couldn't keep up with the changing times, he got sloppy. And the feds jumped.
Valentino's embezzlement sentence made sure he sat locked away for twenty five years as the rest of the world went by. As the FBI became smarter, crime families started disappearing. Fortunately for Valentino, he was smart enough to invest a small amount of money that didn't get confiscated by either the feds or any remaining members of his brood. So the twenty five years he spent locked away in a concrete cell, his money grew.
When Valentino was released he had a substantial amount to live on that no one else knew he had. Not a millionaire by any means, but well off. He was content to live his remaining days out of sight, out of mind.
But like every other American, Valentino needed insurance. And that could only come by way of an insurance agent.
The meeting was arranged at night. Zach met at a mutual recreation park and was taken by car to an old office building.
Zach remembered being nervous but confident. After all, he had something they needed. This was 2009. The days of fashioning concrete shoes to someone and throwing them off the dock died with the last Godfather movie. Right?
Zach was motioned into a room and across a blank table sat Valentino Lentini. Thug to the right. Thug to the left. It was the first time anyone outside Valentino's clique had seen him.
Zach paid no mind to anything else and just conducted business as requested.
One bone-fide fifty million dollar life insurance policy.
Chapter 4
Still in shock by the latest news, Zach continues to shake his head as he adjusts his tie. I am so fucked, he thought to himself. This is it Zachery Wilson. This is the day your life officially ends.
Regardless, Zach never backed down from anything. Whatever would happen, he would roll with the punches.
Zach was the strong nerved type. All he needed was the quick wits.
Zach worked hard. The life insurance side of the SNL branch was vacant and he was rumored to be a front-runner. But a few of Coopers office pranks revealed Zach was susceptible to folding under pressure.
To look at him, you wouldn't notice, but Zach was also the nervous type. Deadlines. Not wanting to fail. Always trying to get the next big client. Zach gave up a fruitful social life for a desk and a phone. He was losing his edge.
It wasn't always that way though.
When Zach first began working at Vertigo, he had those quick wits and nerves of steel needed to survive at the SNL branch. His office humor kept everyone laughing. He made it a joy to work there.
When Cooper came along and Zach focused on more responsibility, Coopers brand of humor slowly took over the office and soon Zach became the brunt of Coopers jokes and pranks. By then, Zach was so focused on work, he didn't have the time or desire to retaliate. He became passive. Much to the displeasure of his father, Marcus, who was conveniently able to relay this because they lived in the same house.
Marcus Wilson lived just down the hall from Zach's room in the spare bedroom. A decision Zach regretted most days, but accepted because Marcus had no where else to go after his wife had passed.
Once burying himself in work to escape the grief, Marcus turned to computers after Zach bought him one to keep him busy during the day when he wasn't there. It'll take that old bastard a month just to figure out how to turn it on, Zach thought. Inside a month, however, Marcus, the 62 year old bastard was hacking websites. Zach created a monster.
Zach beat on the door a few times before entering just to make his presence known. You never know what 62 year old men might be doing at 6:00AM.
"Dad. Dad, wake up its six o'clock."
Expecting to see dear old dad snoring - naked - in a pool of sheets, Zach instead found Marcus still awake at his computer. Content in boxers and a t-shirt, Marcus waves off Zach. "Not now. I just got into Willie's Facebook account."
Marcus' room resembles that of 13 year old. Clothes strewn about. A pyramid of Red Bull cans in the corner. Three computer monitors. Television still on. Zach didn't remember having any children. How could this be?
"Have you been on that thing all night?" A just question by Zach. A question fitting of a mother to her irresponsible child.
Marcus gives a quick wave off again and continues tapping away at his keyboard. He's been at this all night. His goal: hack into Willie Bentley's Facebook account. Something one of his online chat buddies asked him to do because Willie had stole his girlfriend.
Marcus was known online as "Zorro." He was the mercenary people would come to with online problems. He had a gaming reputation fitting of a teenager and the hacking skills even Neo would be jealous of.
Mission accomplished. Marcus was now the sole possession holder of one William Brantley's Facebook account. First order of business. Humiliation. Marcus changed the password to the account so no changes could be made and then quickly changed the status to: Just found out today that I have a small penis. Ladies, please don't date me. You'd have better luck with a baby carrot. Not just an old bastard but a cruel old bastard.
"Dad, why can't you play chess or bingo like other people your age?", Marcus asked in exasperation. "That shit's for old people. Do I look old to you?", Marcus snapped back. Another quick survey of the room and Zach couldn't argue with that. "Please don't get yourself thrown in jail." was the only reply Zach could muster.
Chapter 5
Zach looks down at the door knob and inserts the key. Just as he turns the key, he notices a distorted figure moving in the knob. Zach turns and is immediately cornered by two men.
He quickly remembers seeing them before. Thug one and thug two from that meeting with Valentino. Rufus and Joey Lentini - Valentino's nephews.
The cousins are tall - and strong. Stereotypical of mob enforcers, they easily tower over Zach.
"Mornin' Zachery," Rufus asks in a calm voice. "Rufus. Joey." Zach swallows hard.
"Where you off to in such a hurry," Rufus asks.
"Just headed to work. I'm already late, so if you'll excuse me guys." Zach attempts to ignore their presence, but Rufus isn't having it. He and Joey squeeze together and block Zach's only means of escape.
"You can't spare a few minutes for your clients?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"You uh, you catch the news this morning?" Rufus asks. Zach knows exactly what Rufus is talking about, but maybe if he plays dumb, Rufus won't start asking a bunch of questions. "Yeah, I can't believe the Yankees won - again."
Rufus isn't stupid. He may look it, but he's definitely not stupid. "Zachery - always tryin' to be funny. Ain't he fuckin' funny Joey?" Joey, without even smiling, nods.
Joey is the dumb one. Looks and acts the part to its fullest extent. He probably spent more time in the gym than at school. Due to spending two thirds of his life in the gym, Joey has gotten into a habit of constantly cracking his joints. Any joint. Annoying as hell.
"This ain't the time for jokes, Zachery. I mean, it's hard enough for us, ya' know?" Rufus attempts to be grieving by bowing his head and placing a firm hand on Zach's shoulder. Zach senses the intended power of Rufus.
"I'm terribly sorry for your loss. I hope they're able to find your uncle."
"I fear not, Zachery. I fear not. You heard the authorities; they said he's dead," Rufus quickly points out.
"Yes, I caught that. Again, I'm sorry for your loss."
"So how does this work?" Rufus asks inquisitively.
"Pardon?"
Rufus comes right out with it, "Do I just get a big check or somethin'?"
I fuckin' knew that's what they were here for, Zach screams to himself. "I wish it were that simple. There's quite a bit of paper work to fill out. Phone calls to make -"
"Zachery. Zachery my man. My confidant. My family and I are just ready to move on with our lives after such a terrible loss. Is there any way you can make that happen quickly and quietly?" Rufus again squeezes Zach's shoulder. He's not playing any more. It's clear Rufus wants this over with. "Can you understand the pain I'm going through?" Rufus squeezes Zach's shoulder a little harder.
Zach manages to take the intense pressure from Rufus' grip, "I can't promise anything. Protocol you know."
Rufus slowly shakes his head in disappointment.
Joey slowly reaches into his jacket. This is it. Zach fears the worst. Gun? Knife? Ether? Time seems to slow to a halt.
"Lip balm?" Joey pulls out a small quarter sized cannister of lip balm and offers it to Zach. Zachery sighs in relief.
"There are some forms to fill out." Zach doesn't want to wait to see what else comes out of Joey's pocket should he try to refuse Rufus' requests. That's sure to get them off his back. "Do you...have these forms with you?"
Dammit. "Sorry, all the forms are back at my office."
Joey cracks his knuckles.
"Zachery, I'm not gonna' have to keep comin' by am I? I'm a very busy man and the sooner we can settle this matter, the better for you and everyone else. But mostly for you. Do you understand what I'm tryin' to tell you?" Rufus looks straight into Zach's eyes. It's clear he means business and he'll be by everyday if he has to.
Zach offers up a deal. "Perhaps I can just ...fax the forms to you this morning when I get in?"
Rufus suddenly lightens up as if they had been best friends for years. "This fuckin' guy. That's an excellent idea, Zachery. Goddamn your smart. Isn't he smart, Joey? Why the fuck am I askin' you, you're dumb as shit." Rufus scoops up Zach and headlocks him. "I feel like you been a brother to me, Zachery." Rufus kisses the top of his head and lets him go. Rufus adjusts Zachery's jacket like a mother to a child. "You run along now, Zachery and get those papers. We'll be waitin' to hear from you."
Zach starts to step away and Rufus grabs his shoulders and squares him up. "Don't keep me waitin' Zachery," he says as he looks sternly into Zach's eyes. "Don't keep me waitin'." He gives Zach one last firm look and a pat on the cheek.
Zach quickly steps through them and half stumbles down the stairs.
"Don't hurt yourself Zachery. We need you buddy." Rufus calls to Zach. "After you're done with my stuff...jump off a building if you like," Rufus jokes. Or was he?
Rufus gives one last friendly wave to Zach as the building door shuts. "You think he'll tell anyone?" Joey asks.
"Not if he knows what's good for him. Besides, he couldn't prove anything anyway." Rufus pulls out his 9mm from his jacket and gives it a few polishing wipes. "And if he does...well, I would love to give Carla here some action." Rufus looks down at his piece and gives it a few more polishes.
Joey cracks his neck and knuckles again. "You keep doin' that shit and you're gonna' be a bowl of fuckin' jello by the time you're 40."
Stay tuned for the next chapters! Hope you enjoyed it so far.
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