After the Bears walloped the Redskins 73 - 0 in the NFL championship game Vinny and Josh weren’t in the mood to celebrate, as they tossed a football back and forth in the alley behind the Corbino’s apartment building. Bears fans from around the neighborhood were already in the streets, tossing footballs, honking horns, blasting their radios.
“Hey, why don’t we go over to my folks’ deli and pig out,” said Vinny. “We’ll feel better after we eat something…corned beef sandwiches…salami…pastrami…kosher pickles…”
“Sounds good Vinny, but I’m supposed to be home for supper. I’ll phone my mom from the deli.”
The boys walked over to O’Farrell Street and continued on until they came to Corbino’s delicatessen near Mason. Iron bars were stretched across the front windows.
Inside the deli was small, intimate; one side featured two display cases that contained fresh deli meats, cheeses, fish and seafood. On the opposite side of the shop, hidden by three narrow aisles stocked mostly with dry goods, were two small refrigerators containing milk, juices, coca cola, ginger ale, and root beer. Near the refrigerators were two small wooden tables and four cane-backed chairs. Colorful posters advertised tootsie rolls, coca cola, lucky strikes and Campbell’s soup.
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Behind the display cases Luigi and Regina Corbino waited on half a dozen customers. Vinny’s mother was a short, rather plump woman with a round, jovial face. By contrast, his father was a stocky, muscular man, almost bald, with large black-marble eyes and deep furrows in his cheeks.
“Mama, Papa, look who’s here?” shouted Vinny as he went behind the counter looking for something to eat.
“Joshua, hello.” said his mother, smiling over the counter at Josh as she sliced some corned beef for an older woman.
“Who won the big game?” asked Luigi, wrapping a block of cheese for another customer.
“The Bears, seventy-three to nothing over the Redskins,” replied Josh.
“I felt sorry for those Redskins today,” commented Vinny. “They were slaughtered. They couldn’t score a point.”
“What you like to eat Joshua?” asked Vinny’s mother.
Josh looked over the food in the display case. “Whatever Vinny’s having is okay for me.”
“Two pastrami sandwiches on rye,” said Vinny. “I’ll get us a couple of root beers.”
“Joshua, how is your mama? Your papa?” asked Luigi.
“They’re okay. My dad’s working the swing shift today. He might be patrolling this area.”
Luigi came closer to Josh and leaned over the counter. “He’s a good man your papa. He keeps the neighborhood safe. Everyone in the neighborhood likes him.”