The Name of the Game

Prologue

"Son! Will you come down here?"

Frank made his way down to the front room. As usual, his mother's pale, sunken-in body was shaking, and his father was rubbing his five o'clock shadow. There was a cigar hanging lazily from his lips, and his fedora was tipped so that his eyes were barely visible. Frank sighed, realizing once again that his father was a walking mafia stereotype.

"What is it, dad?" Frank asked. His father handed him a stack of papers.

"These are for your initiation tomorrow."

Frank looked confused. "I need to apply for this?" he asked. "What is this, McDonald's?"

"Don't get smart with me, son."

"Sorry."

"It's so they can evaluate your mental state. See your ability to fight and what not."

"Wouldn't that be physical?"

"You know what I'm saying, Frank."

Frank nodded. "Yes, sir, sorry."

His father smirked slightly. "Stop apologizing so much."

Frank smiled. "Yes, sir."

"Besides, there's also a handbook on the last few pages. A few ground rules, a quick run-through of what we're about. You know."

Frank nodded. He took the papers and went back upstairs to his room. He detached the questionnaire from the handbook and looked at the first page. It began with the summary of the mafia.

The Left Hand Men are dangerous, but fair. We are dangerous because we take the left hands of every traitor. We are fair because we return the hand to its rightful owner.

Frank sighed. These were all things he knew. He flipped through until he found the rules. His eyes were drawn to the most important one.

Rule #1: The Quiet are the only people for whom we have no mercy. Stay away from the Quiet. No exceptions. All traitors will be punished accordingly.

-

"Gerard! Get over here!"

Gerard rolled his eyes. He sighed and jumped off of his bed. Mikey watched as his brother walked into the living room, stopping briefly to kiss his mother's cheek as she worked in the kitchen.

"Yes?"

"I want to give you something." Gerard's father reached over to the table to his left. He grabbed a book that looked like it was modeled after the Bible. He held it out to his son.

"It's something you should have," he said. "If you're going to join us."

Gerard nodded and took the book. "What is it?"

"It defines our limits. It helps us not to stray from who we are."

Gerard pulled his lips tight to avoid looking confused. "Thank you."

His father nodded, then waved a dismissive hand before picking up a newspaper.

Gerard took the book back to his bedroom, but hesitated before walking in. He decided to go into the bathroom to read it instead. He knew Mikey would be joining them eventually, but he wanted to hide all of the danger and death from him until the last possible second.

Gerard closed the door and sunk to the floor. He opened the book. The first page began the extensive list of rules. He pushed his hair back and looked down again, his eyes landing on the very first and most important rule.

Rule #1: The Left Hand Men deserve nothing. They do not deserve our kindness. Do not approach a member of the Left Hand Men. Traitors will be punished accordingly.

He continued reading.

Rule #2: We are a family. We look out for each other.

Rule #3: We never show our faces. Our identities will never be revealed to anyone but our fellow family.

Rule #4: Head of the family shall be referred to as Sir or Ma'am. Their identity shall never be revealed. Traitors will be punished accordingly.

Gerard closed the book.