“Uh huh. And we will definitely be at Snobsville Academy together.”
“Holy cow! C’mere, roommate!” Katie wrapped her arms around me so tight she lifted me off the ground.
“Yeah,” I said to the top of her head. “Wouldn’t that be a real killer!”
Katie and I were done with this mystery business. We were ready to get back to our regular lives and promises of the future. We decided to tell her dad as much as we could, and then let the adults figure it out. Anxious just to be goofy teenagers again, we stumbled over each other in our attempt to get back to her cabin as quickly as possible. We still had time before breakfast.
****
“Hey Dad, we have to talk to you,” said Katie as we approached her cabin, “Oh, sorry!” She finally noticed Joe Gallo was also sitting on the porch. Judging from the looks on Joe’s and Dr. McGuilvry’s faces, we were obviously interrupting something important.
“Sure, but I’ve only got about five minutes,” Doc said.
Still puffing from our run, I was glad to spit out the last of my info for Doc.
“Okay. I’ll be quick. I forgot to tell you one dream. I was Billy, and I had blood on my hands. I think I cut Butch’s hands. There, that’s it,” I said. I rubbed my own hands together, as if I had just washed them of this drama.
“Mmm,” was all Doc said.
“Oh, no,” I said, remembering. “There’s another thing. I was trying to wash the blood off when I walked into the water and almost drowned.”
“Hmm. There was a story about a boy who tried to drown himself at the end of the season…” Doc coughed as he sat up straighter. He seemed to be thinking about something else. Then, he extended his hand to Joe to make the introductions he’d skipped when we first saw them together a few days before.
“Ah, Joe, this is my daughter, Katie, and her friend, Pina. Girls, this is an old friend from camp, Joe Gallo.”
“Regina’s brother? But, you’re the real Joe Gallo, the journalist? Wow!” I sounded like a fool, but I didn’t quite know what to say. Katie hung back and was silent.
“Yes. Glad to meet you, too, Pina,” Joe said.
“I’m sorry. It’s that my father, Mr. Mazzini, is acting strange, and maybe he’s scared…Mr. Gallo, your father? Your father is…I mean…my father made a deal, I think, and…”
Katie’s father cut me off. “No, Pina, I convinced your father you deserve it. This was a ‘deal’ between your father and me. No one else.”
“But he’s got to play again,” I said.
“I don’t understand. Can someone explain?” Joe said.
I said, “My father wants me to go to this good school, kind of like going in his place. To live up to his dreams? My mother says if he wants me to have the courage to reach outside my element, he has to redeem himself by playing the violin again. They say he could have been a great violinist. He says he’s a coward.”
“Okay. What has that got to do with my father?” said Joe.
“I think your father scared my father. I’m not sure how, but now he’s desperate to get away from here.”
“I’ll fix my father. He’s going to redeem himself. My father’s got friends in Italy, violinmakers, maestri. He could definitely help. Not sure exactly how,” said Joe, combing his wavy hair with his manicured fingers. “Sorry he’s been a problem. I didn’t want him to come here, to Maine, but he thought the murder might point to him and that maybe he could solve it. I’ve been trying to keep him at the hotel down the road, but I see he’s been lurking around here at Owl Lake. Sorry.”
“Oh…it’s like my dream…” I said, “I dreamt something like this would happen…”
“Hmm. I’ll see what I can do.” Joe glanced over at Doc, eyebrows raised.
“Wow! That’s great,” I said, and turned to Katie’s dad. “Seriously, Doc, I need to get out of this murder business. All of you adults, you all sort it out. It’s too much.”
“You’re right. You’ve given us all the details. We’ll take it from here.” Katie’s dad nodded.
“Doc, and Mr. Gallo, is there anything you can say to help my father calm down?”
“Please, call me Joe. I can do that. My own father has to stop this bullying and shaming once and for all.”
I thought now we’d be free of this intrigue and adult drama. I needed to spend more time with Katie. I could see by her silence and her arms nearly glued straight to her sides that she was still really upset about the conversation between her father and Joe the day before.
While we were still talking about my father, Jeremiah came to get Doc and Joe. He had called, wanting them all to meet, along with Bud and Fifi in the Lodge’s poolroom. Katie and I managed to get there before the men by sneaking around through the icehouse to hole up in the loft overhanging the racks of cue sticks and chalk.
I have no idea why I dragged Katie there, when I really just wanted to be alone with Katie. Why couldn’t I just leave the murder business up to the adults?
It was a very important meeting. That became clear quickly. We learned that Jeremiah had buried the bones, and that all of the men had dug the bones back up for Doc and Fifi. The bones needed to be tested to see if they were human and cut with a knife or another tool by the doctor and the Mafioso, based on their professional expertise. Bud would take the ring back to his family to make sure it belonged Butch. Then they spoke about Doc and Joe going to Portland or Boston to locate Peter and Kevin and Billy to find out Roger’s name. Katie and I wondered how much of their trip was really intended to research former campers, or each other.
After everyone else vacated the poolroom, Ron slid the heavy cross-beamed barn door shut, leaving him alone with Joe, the scent of chalk, and old hay. Not to mention Katie and me hiding out in the loft.
“So what about Bud? Anything left there?” asked Joe.
“Seriously? There was never anything—” said Doc.
“You tried to claim that about us, too.”
“Touché,” said Doc.
“I wish,” Joe said with a big grin.
“You have to talk to your father. No funny business from now on. We’ll get enough information to clear us all, and we’ll turn it over to the police. Then, we can sort through what we have to do about us.”
“You’re serious this time, Ron?”
“I believe I am.”
“Says the man holding the bones.”
“Come here.”
“Put the bones down first. I want to be the only one in your arms,” said Joe.
“Am I serious enough now?” said Ron.
“Just hold me.”
Up in the loft, I held Katie’s mouth closed with one hand, and patted her shoulder with the other. Warm tears rolled across my knuckles. We heard the creaking of the barn-type door rolling on its wheels and the dull thud as it banged against the heavy frame. They left. Only then could I let Katie sob whole-heartedly.
Chapter Thirty-one
KITTY KISSES
After witnessing the scene from the loft, we hung out with my folks, who were leaving the next day. Katie wasn’t really ready to be with her father. My parents took us out to Naples to walk around Long Lake and take in a boardwalk-type atmosphere. The setting sun was beautiful, and the ice cream was really tops. It was just what Katie and I needed.
Later that night, my parents allowed me to sleep in Katie’s cabin since I had already brought my things over. I promised I would get up early to see them off.
Before going back to her cabin, Katie and I flopped down under the yellow pines, sap and all, to play with the kittens. It felt good not to think too hard about anything much. I was tired of playing sleuth. I told Katie I just wanted to savor all of Maine and the kitties and her.
I asked Katie to pass me one of the kitties, Bobbi, the one with the bobbed tail. Her fur just stood up and poked out all over. It was so stiff.
I nuzzled Bobbi close. “Aren’t you just a fuzz ball, sweet kitty? Here, Katie, touch this spot, this little crook in h
er tail, at the end.”
Our hands brushed as we petted and held the kittens. Katie’s face was open and available. Bobbi the kitten curled up around her neck. I wanted to be Bobbi.
I looked up at Katie in the growing darkness. Her eyes were soft with a touch of moonlight glistening. She was looking at me. Dreamlike, I reached over to pull her head closer to mine. We were leaning in, closer and closer, when Bobbi wedged her head in between our faces, wanting some attention. I came to my senses. What was I thinking?
“Watch it! She’ll adopt you,” Katie said, sitting up straight.
“Like you’ve adopted me?” I was flustered.
We finally dragged ourselves into the cabin. I undressed in the bathroom and jumped into the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. I clung to my edge of the bed. I almost didn’t trust myself. Now that my folks were going home, my future was entirely in the hands of Katie and her family. I couldn’t risk shocking her. I didn’t want her to think I was a queer.
Chapter Thirty-two
TRUE CONFESSIONS - SICILIAN STYLE
I left Katie’s bed really early, afraid of my instincts and anxious about my parents’ upcoming departure. During the night, I wrestled with doubts about whether I was making the right decision to stay. My father wanted me to do what he couldn’t. Could I achieve what everyone said I was capable of? Could I really? What did Katie really want from me? Was it the same thing I wanted?
I ran all the way to the lake. The morning mist was rising from its mirror-like surface. I spotted Joe and Fifi on the beach, sitting in a pair of Adirondack chairs. I went through the blueberries to keep out of sight, dropping behind the beach pines a few feet to the side of the two Gallos.
Joe Gallo was serious about redemption, and I thought that was just a Catholic thing. It seems everyone and everything was rising to the occasion.
In his thick accent, Fifi was almost singing the praises of the vista in front of our eyes.
I heard him say, “It make me want to settle down. This blue water, like Sicily, Lago Arancio, near Giuliana. Miracles they happen there at Lago Arancio.”
“Maybe here, too. It’s old Indian country, close to the gods. And over there, over those hills is Shaker land, Sabbathday Lake. Maybe miracles can happen here, if you let them.” Joe seemed to be setting him up.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Dad, you’ve got some repenting to do. You did your tuff guy stuff with Barney Mazzini. You scared him good. Why?”
“No police. I don’t want police.”
“Hold on. Barney’s not going to the police. You’ve shamed the man in front of his family. You and your Sicilian honor crap. You taught me to honor the family, to forgive a man who told you the truth. You want me to be real? Okay. You know I’m a homosexual. You know the man I love is Ron…I always have. I will respect his family as he has respected our family even when he thought you were up to no good, you and your mob. I want your blessing. You know him. You respect him—”
“Yes. You old enough to live any way you want long as you don’t hurt nobody.”
“Listen to yourself. I’m asking to hold up my head, no shame. I’m also asking you to help Barney do the same, win back the respect of his family.”
“Santo cielo! Holy Heavens! And how?”
“Reassure him you’re not going to rough him up, number one. Then, your connections in Italy. I want you to get Barney’s violin from his wife. I want you to get it to Cremona. It’s a Stradivari, and have the artisans in Italy repair it so it will play again like the nineteenth century piece it is. Then you take Barney to Sicily and get him the best Maestro.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Babbo, he’s got to play again. It’s what he needs to hold his head up again. You need to be the good protector, the good-hearted man, you started out as.”
“Giuseppe, I like to be here. It’s like I say, something clean and holy happens here. Okay. I’ll figure out. You be good to the family of Ron. Come, embrace your old papa.”
****
When I arrived back up at my parents’ cabin, they were in the final stages of packing the car. I waited, kicking through pine needles behind the cabin. As I was inhaling that dreamy Maine scent, I heard the sound of footsteps.
Fifi Gallo. His rolling gait was a bit cocky, a bit old and soft. He was wearing a kind of ascot and a smile.
He was almost singing, “Ciao.”
Gallo approached my mother, tipping his hat and extending his hand. My mother gave him an icy stare. She said nothing, just stood there with her bags next to the trunk of the Rambler.
Fifi Gallo continued, “Mi dispiace. I am sorry. I was afraid, and I make your husband scared. Missus, I’m not a bad man. I don’t want to scare you.”
“I don’t know what you want from me.”
“To forgive me, and your man’s violin.”
“My husband’s violin?”
“I will aid him. I will make a repair in Italy. Like new. I take him, and you if you like, to Italian maestri. He will play again better than at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. I heard him, one time, long time ago. He will be our virtuoso. What do you think?”
“I don’t know what he will say, but let me see.”
“It’s a surprise, don’t tell him. Shush. Here is Barney. Buongiorno.”
“More of the same?” said my father.
“I come to wish you a good trip, and I say I’m sorry. I want only the best for you. I mean you no harm. Old wise guy ways…they are difficult to change! Forgive me!”
“Why?” asked my father.
Fifi explained that his son, Joe, made him realize he had disrespected my father. Fifi’s heart was heavy with shame. He had only the best of wishes for my family, and asked forgiveness.
I came around to the front of the cabin as soon as Fifi ambled off. Fifi’s proposal just made my dilemma murkier. If my father was going to run after his dream, what about me? If he became the violinist he once was, he wouldn’t be ostracized, like I would if I followed my dreams. My dreams made me a queer.
My face was wet with tears I didn’t know were coming. My mother told me she’d miss me too. She reminded me to mind my elders and to help out by tidying up, as well as a whole bunch of other, trivial things. I knew she expressed her concern, worry, and love this way.
My father had his trademark cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He looked down at the ground as he pulled it away from his lips. I could tell that he was uncomfortable with this goodbye. We had so many conversations that never took place out loud. I hugged him hard, and managed to whisper, “I love you.”
Chapter Thirty-three
MORE ANSWERS
It seemed Mr. Gallo was on his best behavior. He managed to get the doc alone, just resting on one of the golf greens, chewing on a blade of grass and contemplating Sebago Lake in the distance. He’d be chewing on a lot more in a minute. Katie and I were just on the other side of the mini sand trap and the row of pines close to the rec hall.
“Mr. Gallo!” said Doc.
“Just Fifi. You know, you like a son to me too.”
“I’m sorry?” asked the doc.
“I know things. Joe, he don’t think I do. You may not be a specialist of the heart.”
“A cardiologist? I’m not.”
“You very smart in the ways of the heart. My son’s heart. I want only the best for Joe. He tell me he only love two men in his life: me and you. Good company.”
“I don’t know what to say,” said Doc. “I thought you came over here to find out what my colleague, the pathologist, said about the bones.”
“First, I say my piece. My son, he’s a good man. He brings no shame on you.”
“Of course Joe is a good man. What is this about?”
“Don’t hurt my son.”
“I’m not in the business of hurting people.”
“You think I am. I’m a different man. I come here, and things, the odor, the arbors, trees, it takes me bac
k to my home, the Belice, in Sicily. The sticky stuff of the tree sap, it stick in my hair when I’m a boy. I go round all day with the odor in my mind. I sit in school or church, I see myself, I imagine myself in the tree. Free. Here, same thing. I’m free. I don’t have to be a wise guy. I see my face as a boy come back at me in the Lake, like Lago Arancio in Sicilia. I like my boy face.”
This draw of the land, I too felt it. The softness of Katie’s face, a fleeting tenderness around her mouth, her watery eyes, all told me she knew exactly what Fifi was talking about, and she was sensing it in this moment too. His acceptance of Doc as the only other man in Joe’s life also seemed to move her.
Doc and Fifi kept talking. They said the experts they had consulted agreed that a short, sharp blade had cut the hands, not by a professional, but by a shaky, inexperienced hand.
“Well, the girl, Pina, she say she cut the hands?”
“In her dream, Billy did.”
Fifi sighed and lifted his hand in the Italian gesture meaning, what to do? He asked Doc not to tell Joe about their conversation. Doc agreed and said he and Joe had work to do in the archives, and that they awaited news from Bud. Bud was checking with his uncle to verify the ring and to get the full names of the other campers.
****
I was becoming quite the expert on eavesdropping on Doc and Joe together. Katie and I were privy to occasional sweet talk. I watched Katie carefully to judge just how much she squirmed when she heard them exchange terms of endearment and whether or not she turned away if Doc stroked Joe’s hair.
She also complained a lot more about her mom these days, saying that her mom was never around. If we counted all the times she spent at Bridge or singing Ramona with Laura Scatterwahl, the Grande Dame of New England, at the piano in the main house, Katie’s mom was more like a ghost coming back to her cabin for an occasional haunt. She was even planning an overnight at the Poland Springs Mineral Spa.
Death and Love at the Old Summer Camp Page 14