The Manos brothers are the sons of Greek immigrants living in Toronto. Zach, the eldest, is determined to live the North American dream, complete with a gorgeous wife, a beautiful home and a successful career in high finance. Costa, charismatic and rebellious, has chosen a different path. A high school drop out, he uses his street knowledge to maneuver through life. Zach and Costa are poised to begin their lives as adults when an expected knock at the door of the their sprawling suburban home shocks the Manos family into a new reality. Forcibly removed from their home and all their possessions seized, each member of the Manos family must now find his or her own way to pick up the pieces of a shattered family existence and forge ahead. While Costa buries himself in work in Toronto, Zach, now disillusioned with his life in Canada, returns to the land of his family's origins. In the tiny and idiosyncratic rural village in Greece, Zach embarks on a journey of self-discovery that will lead him to unearth the truth about his roots, his family's homeland, and the horrible string of crimes perpetrated throughout the world of the Greek Diaspora. With the help of an old family friend with a mysterious past, Zach and his family begin to unravel the tangled web of misdeeds to its source. Together, in a quest for justice, they orchestrate a shocking revenge upon those who had considered themselves too high to fall.

Gods of Greektown

By John Karrys

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 John Karrys
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-4129-6

Chapter One

Live at the Apollo

God, he wishes he was stoned.

"Costa! Yammoto chirstoso, you cocksucker!"

Especially when working for his dad.

Costa's attention is on mixing two records spinning on the turntables. In his mind, he is not only a master DJ: tonight he's a musical alchemist. But his father, Diomedes Manos, the sole proprietary owner of Apollo Restaurant and Banquet Hall, sees from across the hall a master at jerking off. He marches over to the DJ table and shouts, "Costa, what time?"

Slowly, dramatically, Costa takes off his oversized headphones. "What?" he asks smugly.

Greek fathers with businesses don't appreciate it when their sons attempt the Socratic answer-a-question-with-a-question routine. All Greeks with businesses draw their inspiration from the great and the not-so-great military dictators of history. In this man's mind, work is war, and time is currency. "Your brother. When the fuck is he coming?"

"In ten minutes. He just paged me." Costa grins at his father. "Ba, for a change, try to enjoy life a little. Just relax."

Costa turns around to grab his pack of cigarettes. Staring right into his father's eyes, he stylishly pops one into his mouth and quickly lights it with his Satin Chrome X3 jet turbo flame lighter. "You want one, don't you? Here, Ba, take one. I won't tell Ma."

Diomedes shakes his head and studies his youngest son closely. What he sees is a mild reformation of a style that was supposed to have died with rap and hip-hop in the late 1980s. Incredibly, the Gino has made it into the twenty-first century. But Costa is a Gino in denial, in spite of his blowout haircut slicked with gel, his VIP membership to tanning salons, and his olive skin gleaning with manly-scented body lotion. Right now he's wearing dark dress pants and a white designer ribbed tank top over his lean, muscular frame showcasing his well-developed biceps and an impressive handcrafted 24-karat yellow gold Greek key necklace. Then of course there's his smile: with it, he owns the world.

However, at this moment Diomedes is a little irritated by his son's cocky maga constitution. He's proud of him, but will never let him know it.

"What are you, stupid? Do you know what kind of a malaka you look like right now? Go put a shirt on and go help Tasso at the bar and stop smoking. Don't you know that this stuff can kill you?"

Yeah, this coming from a man who smokes two packs a day, Costa thinks. But he only dares to think it; being a smart ass does have its limitations. Diomedes doesn't tolerate lip from his employees, let alone from his boys. To a Greek father, sons in their early twenties are still boys.

Costa takes another drag and puts out his cigarette. A handful of guests have begun to file into the hall. He stops his kickass fusion of downbeats and puts on the village Greek music. He pulls out a crisp white dress shirt and starts buttoning it up, leaving the two top buttons undone. Reluctantly, he makes his way to the bar.

Costa Manos hates socializing with most of the guests who've been invited here tonight. Ever since he was little he has maintained an undefined cynicism toward most of these socialites that parade as the elite of the Greek community. There always seemed something disingenuous, two-faced, in the way they spoke to him.

Costa takes his position behind the bar. He already feels like another cigarette.

"Hi, Costaki! You know what kind of drinks we like?"

In every family and generation within Greeklish society there is always one aunt who tries so hard to look modern and sophisticated, but has an androgynous voice that resonates with the dark arts of witchcraft.

"Sure, Thea." Costa lines up two glasses, preparing himself for his aunt's interrogation.

"So, Costa, what are you doing with yourself these days?"

"Working. Saving my money. Trying to enjoy myself."

"That's nice. Do you know that Despina is in law school?"

Like most aunts, Thea Sophia asks questions as an excuse to brag about her children and her life.

"Wow, that's great, Thea."

"Why didn't you continue school like your brother Zach?"

"I didn't like school."

"Did you finish high school? I don't remember the story."

Thea Sophia thrives on the opportunity to manipulate a discussion in order to secure the upper hand.

"Yeah, I finished with high school a long time ago."

"But did you graduate? Anyways, it must be nice to have a business like this to fall back on."

"Here you go, Thea." Costa passes her the two glasses.

"Well, you are a handsome bartender. I heard that Zach has the most gorgeous girlfriend. Are you dating anyone?"

She knows the answer to this one too. "Nope." Costa smiles. "I'm still enjoying my freedom, and I don't think Zach is officially dating anyone right now."

"Well, there are a lot of good girls here tonight."

Costa gives his aunt a disarming but courteous smile and continues to serve the other guests.

"You know my girls married really rich and successful men. I saw Despina's house the other day and I have to tell you, I have never seen anything like it."

"Yeah, I know. I helped them move in." This is a tactical lie to stop the onslaught.

"What?" Thea Sophia pouts as Costa's clever counterattack has reversed her usual campaign to belittle his ego. Costa has poured the drinks for his aunt and she—predictably—still isn't finished with the interview. However, from his front pants pocket his cell phone is vibrating, meaning his brother Zach is outside.

"Holy shit, the big surprise is here," he mumbles. Costa springs out from the bar to look for his father.

"Which big surprise?" Thea Sophia picks up her drinks and walks away.

Outside the restaurant, Zach sits in his car scanning the packed parking lot. He shakes his head, still having difficulty containing his giddiness as his plan progresses toward perfection. Tonight is the 35th anniversary for the Apollo Restaurant and Banquet Hall and all the guests he wanted are here. To him, they are the elite, the top of the pyramid, and he wants to earn a seat. Since he just graduated with his MBA and has as many blue chip offers, he saw this night as the opportunity to make a statement to the Greek community and secure his social standing as a future community leader.

Zach gets out of the car, breathes in the early spring air and stares at the Hellenic craftsmanship on the exterior of his father's restaurant. It isn't the typical columns and busts you might expect, but a panoramic architectural expression that tells the story of his father's life through ancient Greek mythological archetypes. Every painting, drawing, and design is intentionally placed in a certain chronology that starts with Diomedes, Achilles, odysseus and Poseidon, and then finishes with Apollo, Dionysus, Zeus, and Prometheus. His father has refused to reveal to anyone, including his wife, what it all signifies. Zach has always wanted to find the time to deconstruct it and decipher its meaning.

Zach turns around and notices his mother and his grandparents approaching from one of the parked vehicles.

"Hi, Papou, Yiayia!" Zach greets his grandparents, exchanging hugs and kisses on both cheeks. "How was your flight?"

"First class? How much did that cost you?" his frugal grandpa snaps.

"Oh Yianni, I haven't...