Go Naked In The World

by Chamales, Tom T. ;

  The office was large, with a single large dark stained mahogany desk. Lou Duck was already there, sitting on the desk. And George Babacharis, also known jokingly as Baby-Carriage, the unelected mayor of Greektown, was there. He was in the coffee business. Some even called him the coffee king. He was a round, big-chested man in his middle fifties, and looked very much like what a politician should look like (that is, if you had an aversion to cigar-smoking politicians). And Mike Swanson was there. He was the candy king, owning a chain of over thirty candy stores. He was short and stocky and white-haired distinguished, and looked remarkably like Old Pete.

  The room was heavy with cigar smoke and looked more like a meeting of diplomats than of church directors and officers, with all the men in their striped pants and dark morning coats and ascots. Of course, Old Pete had brought along a sports outfit so that he could change (in the priest’s office) after the service and would be properly groomed for the ball game with Nick that afternoon. There was a bottle of brandy on the priest’s desk, and Mike Swanson and Baby-Carriage were playing casino, and Lou Duck was kibitzing. It was really all very homey, like a private little club.

  Nick was greeted by all. The game stopped temporarily, and everyone had a drink for Pete’s happiness over Nick’s safe return, and everyone lied about how fine Nick looked, and said how Pete could now take it easy in the business with Nick to work for him. Then the game resumed. Lou Duck began to ask Nick a lot of questions about where he had been and what he had done and how he found the women in France compared to the women in Italy, and smiling and puffing on his cigar, asked him if he got any of that Chinese stuff. Nick laughed that half sardonic laugh and said that the really talented women were in Greece, which caused a momentary silence in the room, all the men except Old Pete being married to Old Country Greek women; and of course Old Pete was upset by this and immediately changed the conversation to yesterday’s baseball game, at which point Nick bluntly switched the subject right back to Greek women.

  “No kidding, Mr. Duck,” he said, “nothing like the Greek women anywhere in the world.”

  “He’s pulling your leg, Lou,” Old Pete said.

  “Sure,” Mike Swanson said, “these kids get smart in the Army. He’s a-pulling it.”

  “It’s the gospel,” Nick said.

  “You shouldn’t talk about things like that in the House of God,” Old Pete said, suddenly reverent.

  All the men crossed themselves.

  “No,” Baby-Carriage said, “we shouldn’t talk about such things in the priest’s office.”

  “I hear we get outta the church early,” Mike Swanson said. “You fix it, Pete?”

  “Yeah. We gotta go to the ball game. So I tell the priest on the phone last night. He started half-hour early. We’re out at one sharp.”

  “He talks too much lately,” Baby-Carriage said. “He went almost to two o’clock last week.”

  “Yeah, and two old ladies faint last week,” Mike Swanson said.

  “They only have two-hour services in New York now,” Lou Duck said.

  “That’s not good, only two hours,” Old Pete said. “Pretty soon we be like the Catholics. One hour. Maybe even just half-an-hour. Oh, those Catholics,” Old Pete wailed. “They’re ruining the world, I tell you.”

  “They started this war,” Lou Duck said. “I tell you, this war behind those Roman walls started.”

  “My own opinion is that it started in China,” Nick intervened suddenly.

  Everyone looked at him as if amazed, Nick thought, as if he had committed a sacrilege of a sort by entering the conversation at all.

  “Well,” Nick said, “that’s my opinion. You mean I haven’t got a right to an opinion? What the hell you think I got my ass shot off for—I can say what I damn please!”

  “Goddamn it, Nick,” Old Pete said, “watch your language in church.”

  “Sorry, Dad,” Nick said.

  “Of course you can say what you want,” Lou Duck said. “This is a free country. That’s what we’re fighting for, isn’t it?”

  “It’s a great country,” Old Pete said.

  “How do you mean, it started in China?” Lou Duck asked with a slight trace of slyness, holding the cigar in his hand.

  “Well,” Nick said emptily (because now no one was paying him any attention suddenly), “because we didn’t protect the treaty ports. And they took advantage of us when we didn’t protect what we signed to protect.”

  “Nine and out,” Baby-Carriage said. “That’s a hundred and a quarter you owe me, Mike.” Then began to shuffle the cards again.

  “We supposed to be drinking brandy, or anything, before communion?” Nick asked Old Pete.

  “A little brandy is all right,” Old Pete said. “This is a special communion for us: You, me, and Pierro.”

  “Pierro, too?”

  “Yeah,” Old Pete said. “I thought it would be just us. Father and son. But Mary thought Pierro might be hurt. So Pierro too. He was wounded too, you know.”

  “Sure,” Nick said.

  “I better go see if Pierro’s here,” Old Pete said.

  “I’ll go,” Nick said.

  “No, I’ll go. You don’t want to get tied up with a lot of people before we make communion.”

  “All right, Dad.”

  “Some kid,” Lou Duck said, patting Nick on the back. “I’ll bet you had some time for yourself over there.”

  Old Pete left.

  Nick was looking seriously at Lou Duck now.

  “Life’s no joke,” Lou said. “You get as many laughs as you can. War—that’s a part of life.”

  “A pretty good part of yours,” Nick said in a calm, modulated voice, wondering if Lou Duck would get the dig, and making a mental bet with himself that he wouldn’t.

  Nick won.

  “Yeah,” Lou Duck said. “I did good during this war. I come a long way in the last few years. I suppose your father told you.”

  “Oh, everyone I’ve seen has told me. Really big. I’m sure glad to hear it, Mr. Duck. I sure am.”

  “You’re a good kid. You listen to your old man and you’ll be a big kid some day in this city. You just try and be like your old man. Just one half your old man.”

  “I’ll sure try,” Nick said. “Yes, I’ll sure try. But there’s not many like him,” he said, playing it out to the hilt.

  “Now you talk sense, kid,” Lou Duck said. “Cards? A little casino? A little Stratton money for Lou Duck?”

  “Sure,” Nick said.

  Nick was not a card player and knew it, and knew Lou was the very best of card players. Nick played recklessly for over an hour and a half, and Old Pete stood behind him moaning and swearing under his breath every time Nick took a wild gamble, but the cards were coming his way, and he took the restaurateur for seventy dollars about as fast as you could take it at ten dollars a game. Lou Duck smiled, but obviously was not pleased, but Old Pete was pleased indeed as Lou Duck paid off. Then all the men spread a deck of cards on the table, and all except Nick drew, and the two highest cards—Old Pete and Mike Swanson—were thus elected to pass the collection tray.

  The trays were duly passed. Communion was taken by the congregation, then the priest delivered a long sermon about the war and the contributions of Nick and Pierro Stratton, son and nephew respectively, of that great benefactor of their church, Old Pete Stratton. And of the suffering and longing that Old Pete and his good wife Mary had done for their son and nephew; and the hardships of enduring without their loved ones, the constant threat with them always that their boys were, for some diabolic reasons that God had not as yet chosen to explain, thrown upon the sacrificial altar of war, where always their fate was unknown. And how by their (referring to Old Pete and Mary) love and faith in God, the two boys had been spared their lives and limbs. Yes, had been spared because of this great faith and love and worship of the church by the good Mary and Pete Stratton; because of this they were here today. By the very God in Heaven above, these were living examples
of the power of faith and love and prayer.

  Then Old Pete and his two living examples strode up the center aisle as the chorus chanted their Orthodox Gregorian chant, Old Pete in the middle, holding each living example by the arm, and with tears of pride and joy and faith streaming down his old cheeks, knelt before the priest and kissed the priest’s ring, and thanked the priest in Greek for the blessing bestowed upon these two living examples of faith and love and prayer, and proudly stood up with the tears still streaming down his old cheeks, and walked holding each example by the arm back down the aisle as the chorus and now the priest chanted on, and the priest sprinkled the incense, and Old Pete walked up the aisle as straight-backed as any Army general ever, with the even cadence step of the best drill sergeant ever, and with the humblest of his most humble looks spread across his face as if the tears themselves were tears of humility.

  After the service, which ended rather abruptly at one o’clock sharp, Nick mingled in the lobby for a few moments while Old Pete was changing his outfit for the ball game down in the priest’s office. He spoke to the Stratos brothers, made a date with the younger Stratos for lunch that week, and talked to the elder Stratos’s daughter for a while. She was a very Spanish-looking Greek girl a year younger than Nick, and her whole body seemed to exude a vibrant warmth. She was not a good-looking girl. But tall, thin, Spanish-looking, with big round dark gypsy eyes and was strangely attractive in a pagan sort of way.

  He kissed and was kissed and hugged by Pierro’s mother and sister. And kissed and hugged by numerous other relatives, and by his godfather and godmother, and as he went out the church door, he kissed the priest’s hand as was customary and took a piece of bread from him, and outside he joined with the congregation, being kissed over and over again by his old women relatives and his men relatives, and the tears flowed like confetti on a New Year’s Eve.

  Nick noticed other soldiers of not-so-wealthy Greek families. Some had many ribbons and one, Nick noticed, had four purple hearts, and Nick was suddenly very embarrassed by all the ceremony that had been performed over him. He was glad to get out of there as quickly as he did.

  As the ballpark wasn’t too far from the church, they made the game in plenty of time. In fact, as they were coming down the ramp, they made the announcement of the battery for ‘Today’s Game’.

  Old Pete’s box was in tier one, right next to the dugout between third and home. Gabby Hartnett was standing near the rail as Old Pete entered the box and he reached over and shook hands with Old Pete, and Old Pete introduced Nick. Everyone in all the boxes around said hello to the old man, and in the second row of the box was a bleached-blonde woman who had once been a member of that famous women’s dance team, the Jerry Sisters. She had worked for Pete in the old days, and gave him a big kiss when he finally settled down from saying all his hellos. This kiss seemed to kind of embarrass Pete in front of Nick, and he covered it up by saying, “Nick, don’t pay any attention to those show women. That’s the way they act. She’s a smart one though. She married a millionaire insurance fellow about ten years ago. He was seventy then. She’s been waiting for him to die, but he looks better now than when they got married.” He half-snickered. “The funny thing is, the guy’s been so good to her, they say she really loves him now and is scared all the time that he might die. Can you imagine her being married to a guy eighty.”

  Looking at her Nick could tell she was a good forty, but a damn good forty and that, undoubtedly, without all this sunlight, would look more like a thirty than a forty.

  Old Pete leaned back in his seat, lit a ten cent cigar, and put his right hand up on the railing. Over to his side in the next box, Nick could see old Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis leaning with his arms on the stone ledge in front of him, his head on his arms. Nick knew the judge would stay that way practically the entire game, never showing the least emotion, never budging an inch if a foul ball came winging his way. On the box to their left was old Mayor Kelly, and Pete waved him a greeting and Kelly said he was taking Pittsburgh and Old Pete said he was on for a box of Coronas, and Old Pete wondered if the Mayor knew something. How the hell can you take Pittsburgh with Warneke pitching for the Cubs, and a three-hitter last time out, and Hartnett catching, and Cavaretta leading the league with a three sixty-two average. Well, Old Pete said to himself, he can afford it. He’d miss a box of Coronas like I’d miss a nickel.

  Charley Grimm came over and shook hands with Pete. And Pete whispered how did Warneke look today—how did he feel? And Charley said fine, and said he thought they’d win the pennant for sure if they could pick up a pitcher sometime soon that would win them five or six games. Pete suggested a pitcher with the Yankees and Charley said that might be a good idea at that, if they could get the American League teams to make waivers on him.

  It was common knowledge that all the Cub managers listened with respect to what Old Pete had to say about the team. When Chance managed the Cubs back in ‘05 and ‘06, those pennant-winning years, Pete was in the clubhouse before and after every game. And it was true that one time Chance was going to fire a pitcher for drinking too much and Old Pete talked him into pitching the fellow that very day and he went out and won both ends of a double-header, a vital contribution to that year’s pennant drive. Also, Pete used to make at least two eastern trips with the Cubs every year. His knowledge of baseball was amazing.

  It was a good tight game. At the end of the fifth there was no score, and Nick went downstairs and had a hot dog and called Nora. She was home and he said he would pick her up around four-thirty for the cocktail party at Raul’s, which was fine with her. Going into the ninth it was still tied nothing-nothing, and the Cubs came to bat. You could tell from the nervous way Grimm was acting in the coach’s box that he was thinking of lifting Warneke for a pinch-hitter, although Warneke could hit at times. Pete hollered like hell for Warneke to bat, and started everyone around him hollering too. As the pitcher was warming up, Old Pete suddenly caught Mountain Landis, the baseball commissioner’s, eye. The Judge had had Pete up once in the old days on a bootlegging charge which Pete eventually beat, though the Judge was sure Old Pete was guilty, and the Judge would have sentenced his own mother, were she guilty. That was the kind of judge he was. When Pete caught Landis’s eye, he suddenly put his own arms on the stone railing and rested his chin on them as the Judge was, only exaggerating the way the Judge’s jaw jutted out. The Judge turned away in apparent disgust, though Pete knew he was laughing inside, and Pete laughed outwardly and so did everyone around him.

  In the ninth, the first man for the Cubs flied out, then Warneke came up. He hit the first ball long and high and it didn’t look at first like it could possibly go in, but suddenly you could see the wind catch it and it kind of hung up there, and in it went and the game was over, the Cubs, 1 to 0. Old Pete jumped about a foot and a half off the ground and pounded the stone rail, and as Warneke came toward the dugout, Pete took off his brand new straw hat and hurled it out onto the field and jumped up and down and hugged Nick and hugged the show girl and everyone around him, and hollered, “Ahyyeeee—Ahyyeeee—” real loud and threw his cigar out on the field, and then climbed over the stone railing and started for the dugout.

  Nick was terribly worried for a moment, seeing Pete get that excited, with his bad heart and all, but there wasn’t anything he could do to hold him down. Old Pete disappeared into the dugout and came out a few minutes later carrying a baseball which he gave to Nick, and then he hollered, “Ahyyeeee—” once more.

  As they began to walk from the park Old Pete said, “That’s a game, son. That’s the way a game should be. Tight. Every play tight.”

  “Some game,” Nick said.

  “Damn right,” Old Pete said. “Best game of the year, I tell you. Well win it now. When you win a game that way it does something for a team, I tell you. It puts them up. This is some team. Not like the old days, mind you. But the best in years. In many years.”

  Then Nick explained that he had a date and would
Old Pete like to ride with him to pick her up. Old Pete said no, he’d take the “El”, but he was sorry Nick wasn’t going to be .home for supper. And that he didn’t mind taking the “El” like a lot of people, and then transferring to the North Shore train. No, Old Pete Stratton wasn’t too spoiled to ride the “El”. In fact he was damn fortunate, he told Nick, to live in a country where they had such transportation. Why in Greece, it would have taken him half a day, walking or riding a jackass, to get out to Winnetka. No, the “El” was fine for him. But Nick should be careful driving. It only took a second for something to happen. And not to drink too much when he was driving. In fact, not to drink too much anyhow. Only goddamn fool Americans got drunk anyhow. You never saw real Europeans drunk like Americans. And Nick should call his mother as soon as he got to the party and let her know he was there, safe, and what time he would be home, just so his mother wouldn’t worry too much. But to go ahead with the car and be careful. And watch out what he did with women. Women could make a lot of trouble. Have a good time and don’t worry about him, Old Pete, taking the “El”. The “El” was good enough for him. So near the parking lot Old Pete kissed Nick on the cheek and said once more, “Wasn’t it a fine game?” and started walking briskly toward the “El”, and Nick got the car and started for Nora’s, thinking that Old Pete was really something, really couldn’t possibly have heart trouble and exert himself as he did. Then Nick began to think about other things.

  CHAPTER XXI

  NICK was early. Nora had only a few minutes earlier gotten out of the shower. In her half-slip and strapless bra and spectators, she was completing her toilet when he arrived. Inside the door he kissed her long and hard. And everything that he had thought about her, driving from the ball park, became suddenly, intensely real. She took his hand and led him into the living-room. He threw his overseas hat on the couch and she went over to the bar and started to make him a drink, her back to him.