Angel

Johnny had never thought he would live in a house like this, not even in his wildest dreams; it was as far removed from his beginnings as anything could ever be.

Johnny Fortune, born Gianni Fortunato in 1953, had grown up on the crowded streets of Lower Manhattan, and his home had been a cramped and dismal apartment on Mulberry Street, where he had lived with his uncle and aunt, Vito and Angelina Carmello.

His father, Roberto Fortunato, he had never known; his mother, Gina, he could barely remember. After his aunt died, when he was five years old, his Uncle Vito, who was his mother’s brother, had been both father and mother to him until he was fifteen. It was then he had dropped out of school, knowing he would never make it to college anyway.

And so the streets of New York became his university, just as they had, in a sense, been his kindergarten. At an early age he had learned to take care of himself, was street-smart, forever wary and on guard, conscious of everyone and everything going on around him.

But Johnny had never been a typical street kid, full of sass, with a cheeky mouth and a belligerent manner; nor had he been a tough and dangerous young punk, constantly making trouble, or in trouble with the law. Uncle Vito had seen to that.

Also, Johnny was lucky in that he had something special, something which made him different from the other kids, lifted him out of the ordinary, and, in a peculiar way, even protected him. That something special was a voice. It was a sweet and melodious voice, one so pure it was breathtaking, and it caused his uncle’s colleagues and male friends to listen to him rapt, almost in awe, applaud loudly when he had finished and generously shower him with dollar bills.

Without exception, each one of them told him he sang like an angel. Uncle Vito said his voice was a gift from God, and that he should treat it with respect and be forever thankful for his great gift. He was.

For a while, the young Gianni toyed with the idea of calling himself Johnny Angel, after the popular song of that title. But in the end he decided to use Johnny Fortune, the anglicization of his own name, hoping that it presaged things to come. And ultimately it did, although it took Johnny many years to make that fortune.

Now, on this cool November evening, his past was the last thing on his mind. Johnny was thinking about the future – next year to be exact. It seemed to him that 1992 had all but disappeared before it had even begun, what with the foreign concert tours which had been planned, plus the lengthy recording sessions for his new disc, which his manager had already set up with the recording studio in New York. Once Christmas was over he realized his time was no longer going to be his own; the next twelve months were spoken for.