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Silvia had fallen asleep in front of the television set and was jerked out of her sleep-state by a particularly loud commercial. When she awoke, Frank was lying on the couch, snoring happily. She decided to let him continue sleeping on the couch instead of waking him up, knowing that he sleeps much better on the couch than in his bed. So she quietly slipped away and went off to her room. On her way, she stopped by Vince’s room to find him talking on the phone to one of his friends. She needed to clear some things up with him before the reunion, and now was as good of a time as any, so she sat on the only chair in his room and waited for him to get off the phone.
As she waited, she stared at the walls of his room that were mostly bare, except for a vintage peace poster that hung crookedly near the door to his closet. She thought it ironic that he was so impassioned about the principle of peace, and yet, like all of the Grecos, he was unable to get along with the members of his own family. She felt that peace was something that began at home and if it couldn’t be achieved in one’s very own home, then trying to achieve it in the world would be extremely difficult, or even impossible. He needed to know this and he needed to know this now.
“Nice poster,” she said looking at the peace poster.
“Thanks,” he said like he was confused by her remark.
“I mean it’s a nice symbol and all,” she said trying to clarify her remark.
He had no response. He just looked back at her like he had no idea where she was going with her strange little comment, but his face became less confused when she said, “Peace begins at home, you know.”
“Does it?” he said as if he didn’t trust her words.
“Well, it has to start somewhere. It doesn’t come from the air.”
“I suppose not.”
She was now beginning to get frustrated at his casual indifference, and so she began speaking in a loud, slightly angry tone of voice in order to get a rise out of him.
“How can you care so much about something like world peace if you’re not at peace with your own family? If you want to make peace in the world, you have to start at home.”
“I get along just fine with our family,” he said defensively.
“What about Dad?”
“Who gets along with Dad?”
“What about how you can’t stand Doug? What did he ever do to you?”
Vince raised his eyebrows, smiled sardonically, and answered his sister by saying, “What did he ever do to me? How about what he did to the whole country? The whole world! He’s a criminal like all those Wall Street bastards!” He spoke loud and passionate like an Evangelical preacher.
“Oh, c’mon, Vince,” she said.
“It’s tough to forgive a bunch of criminals that are never blamed for their criminal activity. If anything, they’re rewarded for it.”
“Maybe he doesn’t really know the criminality of the system he works for. Ever think of that? He does seem naïve, at times.”
“He’s highly educated. I think he’s wise enough to know the difference between right and wrong.”
“But can’t you, at least, give him the benefit of the doubt? And if you were not so busy hating him, you might, one day, have an opportunity to get through to him. And that goes for all people like him. How are you going to work for world peace if you can’t talk to people like Doug?” At this last statement, Silvia perceived a shift in Vince’s facial expression that seemed to indicate a trace of understanding. Moreover, he didn’t refute this last argument that his sister had made, and thus, she had an opportunity to expand on this idea. “You know that diplomats don’t only talk to like-minded people. I bet most of the time they don’t even like the people they have to interact with. But they know that they have to be diplomatic to accomplish their goals, and so they are.”
Vince looked like he wanted to say something back, but it appeared as though he didn’t have a good comeback to this one. So he just listened to the rest of what his suddenly didactic sister had to say about peace, love, and Wall Street.
“All I’m saying is that maybe if people like you could get through to people like Doug, we might not be in the state that we’re in. Maybe if groups of people didn’t hate each other and encapsulate themselves from each other the way they do, it might be a different world. A better world.”
Vince put his head in his hands and looked down at the floor. Then he looked up at his sister like he wanted to say something, but could think of nothing to say. She could tell by the look in his eyes that she had gotten through to him, and that was good enough for her.
She said goodnight and went down the hallway to her room where she collapsed on her bed after what felt like a never-ending day. Her ears were ringing from her tiredness. She got up to change her clothes and then she did something with complete unawareness. She put her clothes inside the drawers of her old bureau. Maybe it was the fatigue that made her do such a thing. Maybe it was the nice night she had with Frank and the great talk she had with Vince. Using the old bureau felt perfectly natural to her tonight. She even felt a small temptation to take all of the clothing out of the crates and put them inside of the drawers of her bureau, but she resisted. It still felt too soon.
Olive Branches Don't Grow On Trees Page 28