Nick went upstairs. Mary was not faint, nor about to faint, Nick knew at once, but was nevertheless putting on a very fine performance of one about to faint. Even the tears were no longer genuine. She was on her chaise longe and Nick sat next to her and she pulled his head down on her shoulder and patted him and told him how much she loved him and that really she would never believe Nick could ever do anything that was really bad, it wasn’t in his nature or his upbringing.
He felt very awkward sitting there next to her knowing that the tears were not veritable tears, and wondering if what she was saying to him was what she really believed. She stopped crying after a while.
“I think I’ll get Old Gus and Old Joe and go fishing for a few days,” Nick said.
“I think it would do you good, son,” Mary said, “to get away from that woman for a while. Where will you go?”
“Florida,” he said, “but I’ll be back for the wedding.”
“You’re not driving, Nick, are you? Please. You know how afraid I am of automobiles.”
“I’ll be careful, Mother,” he said.
“You have St. Christopher, don’t you, Nick?”
“Yes,” he lied. “I’ve got the one you gave me the day after I got home,” he said wondering now where he had put it.
“Can you get enough gas stamps?” Yvonne asked.
“I think so,” Nick said.
“When will you go, dear?”
“In the morning if I can,” he said.
“You don’t believe those things your father said about Pierro, do you?”
“Of course not, Mother.”
“He has a terribly suspicious mind. You must forgive him for his ignorance, son.”
“Of course I will, Mother.”
“You know he’s never had the advantages that you and I have had. We must forgive him for that,” she said dramatically.
“Yes, Mother,” Nick said.
“It’s so terribly sad that he hasn’t acquired any culture along with his success. Don’t you agree, Nickie?”
“Yes, it’s very sad.” He was holding her hand now. “Won’t you have a little brandy? I think it would help to settle you down.”
“No. No thank you. You know how quickly the slightest bit of liquor goes to my head. I’ll be all right. You go along, son. As long as I know you forgive your father I’ll be all right. You do love him, I know that.”
“And you,” he said softly, meaningfully.
“I know you do. I know you’re doing the right thing getting away from that woman for a while. You go up and get your fishing things together. They’re all there as you left them.”
“I’ll be back for the wedding,” he said, “I’ve got to go down and see Gus. And call Joe.”
“It’s too bad your father isn’t going with you.”
“I don’t think he’d enjoy it too much,” Nick said. “You want to ride down to Gus’s with me, Yvonne?”
“Sure, Nick. If Mother’s all right.”
“You go along, dear,” she said dramatically. “I’ll get along.”
“All right,” Yvonne said.
Nick kissed his mother and got up and went downstairs after telling Yvonne he’d meet her in the car. Downstairs he called Joe and told Joe he was ready to go and Joe said fine he would be ready in the morning.
Nick walked out through the sun porch starting for his car. Old Pete was on the porch reading the paper.
“How’s your mother?” he asked.
“Fine,” Nick said, nearing the door.
“Where you going?”
“To Florida,” Nick said.
“Where?” Old Pete braced up and put the paper down.
“Florida. To fish. With Gus and Joe. We’re leaving in the morning.”
“Yeah,” Old Pete said.
“Yeah,” Nick said emphatically.
“You be back for the wedding,” Old Pete said.
“We’ll be back.”
“I wish I could go fish. God knows I need the sun.”
“Too bad you can’t come,” Nick said.
“When you go?”
“In the morning,” Nick said.
“Good,” Old Pete said. “You can stop in Atlanta and deliver a package to my good friend John Rakis. You do that for me won’t you?”
How the hell could you refuse him when he asked you like that, Nick wondered.
“Sure.”
“Good,” the old man said. “I got a case of Greek brandy in the basement. You deliver it for me.”
“Sure,” Nick said.
“And don’t you make no pass at his daughter, see.”
“Don’t worry,” Nick said.
“You ain’t seen his daughter. But remember he’s my friend. Do what you want with the women you want but you keep your hands off my friend’s daughter.”
“Sure,” Nick smiled. “I’m going down to tell Gus we’re going. Yvonne’s going with me. We’ll be right back.”
“You wanna take my new pole?”
“No thanks,” Nick said.
“It’s a good one,” Old Pete said.
“It’s too heavy on the tip for me,” Nick said. “I remember it.”
“I sure wish I could go fish,” Old Pete said, “but with the wedding and all. The business.”
“We’ll go sometime,” Nick lied.
“You ought have some big time with Joe and Old Gus.”
“Yeah,” Nick said. “I’ll see you in a while.” And went out the door and got in the car and waited there smoking until Yvonne joined him and they drove off.
“Where will you go?” she asked.
“Well, I want to go to the Ten Thousand Islands. That’s on the West Coast. No one fishes there much and there is a big run this time of year. A spawning run.”
“Have you ever watched fish spawn? I mean seen them?”
“Yes. It’s very beautiful. To watch snook spawn is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.”
And they did not talk until they arrived at Gus’s. They did not stay there long. Gus said he would be ready to go early in the morning but they would have to put the goats in the car first and drop them with a friend of his near Halstead Street. From Gus’s they drove immediately back to Winnetka and Sam’s garage where Nick got enough stamps from Sam to go to Florida and back twice. Then they went home and Nick called Nora and told her he was going away for a few days and asked her (for the first time) if she would go to the wedding with him which she said she would. They talked a long time and she said it would probably be good for him to get away but that she would miss him and for him to be careful and he told her how he loved her and asked her, finally, if he couldn’t come down and say goodbye but she was already in bed, she said, and tired, and was just about to turn her phone off when he had called.
Packing that night was something for Nick. It was fun getting all his baits together and finding his old knives and testing his lines and putting all his things in order. He relived many days that night and did not go to bed until almost three and at five was up putting things in the car. He didn’t wake up anyone to say goodbye.
CHAPTER XXIII
OLD GUS was waiting outside his shack when Nick arrived. He was standing there with his fishing pole in its canvas case, holding it like a staff, and his old brown canvas bag and his battered old wooden fishing box and his zither were on the dew fresh grass before him and in his right hand he held his three goats leashed together. Nick knew Gus had not been waiting long, that somehow he knew exactly when Nick would arrive. It was really very strange to Nick seeing Gus standing there in his old work clothes with his goats by the little shack with all the tall buildings of the city around him in the clean freshness of the early morning.
They embraced and kissed each other on the cheeks and Nick carried the bag, box, zither and pole to the car while Gus led the goats. They put the goats in the back seat of the convertible and, as they drove along, Old Gus hummed to them. Two of them stood facing each other in the back
of the car and the other lay placidly curled up on the seat. Nick noticed how placid the goats were, as if somehow Gus’s humming actually did have an effect on them.
They dropped the goats off with Gus’s friend at his old carbarn off Halstead Street. Gus gave him careful instructions on how to care for the goats and then they had a cup of Turkish coffee with him, as it would not have been polite to refuse, and chatted with him about where they were going and what they would do and when they expected to be back. Then they got in the car and went over to Little Joe’s of the one eye. They parked the car in front of his diner. On the window there were already two crudely painted signs. One in English and one in Greek: Closed for Fishing Trip. Indefinite.
They knocked on the door and Joe let them in. They all embraced and made their greeting and Joe told them to sit down and have a cup of Turkish coffee and a brandy while he finished preparing the lunch that he had been cooking since three that morning.
You could smell the lamb cooking. After Old Gus and Nick had their coffee and brandy at the counter they went back in the kitchen where Joe was.
“I clean out the place,” Joe said. “No sense we waste what we have on hand.”
“I’ll baste the lamb for you,” Old Gus said.
“Fine,” Little Joe of the one eye said. “Nick, you get one of those bags and put those eggs in the bag. We have over two and a half dozen boiled eggs. And half the baked ham. One salami! A whole lamb which we will eat cold. And I have seven bottles of resin wine all packed. Tomatoes. Onions. All fresh. Some celery. The salt and pepper I have already packed in with the wine in that box—We will eat well.”
“This should hold us to Florida,” Nick said.
“To Nashville,” Old Joe said.
“What is this going to be,” Old Gus said, “an eating or a fishing trip?”
“I have a friend in Nashville,” Old Joe said. “We will eat and drink and sleep for nothing. That is the kind of friends I have.”
“I think we should go fish first,” Old Gus said.
“Me too,” Nick said.
“We think about it on the way,” Joe said. “Why rush? We were not born to rush. We will do as we please. And split on the gasoline.”
“What of the gasoline?” Old Gus asked.
“I have stamps,” Nick said. “I got them last night after I saw you. From Sam who has the garage in our neighborhood.”
“He must be Greek to have so many stamps to give away,” Old Joe said. “The Greeks have more stamps for everything than anybodys in the cities.”
“He is Greek,” Nick said.
“I knew it,” Joe said.
“This Iamb will not be done for another hour,” Gus said.
“At least an hour,” Joe said.
“We should be on the road by now,” Nick said.
“We do not take this trip to rush,” Joe said. “You must learn to take it easy. You have rushed enough these last years, Nick. Have another drink.”
“I’m driving,” Nick said.
“Yes, he must watch his drinking if he is driving,” Gus said.
It took them two and a half hours to finish cooking the lamb and to finish packing up the other things and to start. They argued over where they would spend the first night and where they would stop to eat of the food Joe had prepared and of the route they would take. Old Gus and Old Joe had crossed themselves Orthodox fashion when they had gotten into the car and prayed out loud for a safe and happy trip and then argued all the way to Dwire, Indiana. At Dwire Nick suggested that Old Gus play his zither. Gus began to play and they all began to sing Greek songs and Joe, sitting in the back, was drinking of the Greek wine and occasionally telling Nick how to drive though he had never driven a car in his life.
About three that afternoon they were all very hungry and decided they would stop at the first roadside table outside of Terre Haute and have their meal. It was hot in the afternoon with the top down and they found a nice table about twelve miles the other side of Terre Haute. There was shade and many tall trees and near the road was a small stream. They decided that after they ate they would drive straight to Nashville and stop for at least one drink with Joe’s friend. While they were eating and drinking of the wine in the shade Nick said to Old Gus: “I would like to stop near Chattanooga for a day or two. To see the battlefield there.”
“You have not had enough of battlefields,” Old Gus said.
“My grandfather was wounded there. At the battle of Chickamauga Creek. In proportion, there was no battle in this war as big as that one. I learned much of it when I was a small boy and I would like to see it. The debris from the fight is still upon the field after all these years.”
“I have been there,” Old Joe said. “Not upon the field itself but from Lookouts Mountain I have seen where this fight was.”
“That was a terrible war, I heard,” Old Gus said. “How many died?”
“Thirty thousand in three or four days in that one battle,” Nick said.
“Impossible,” Old Joe said.
“Holy,” Gus said. “I have never heard of such a battle.”
“My grandfather was crippled for life there. And America was made there. In many ways it was made. At least I believe that from what I have read and from what my grandfather had told me.”
“I knew him,” Joe said. “He was a good man.”
“Yes,” Old Gus said. “It was obvious to me that much of your mother’s sweetness of soul came from him. You should go there if you wish. Out of respect.”
“Yes, Nick,” Joe said. “If you wish we will go. And pay our respects too, will we not, Gus?”
“Good,” Nick said. “On the way back then.”
“Well, we have finally agreed on something anyhow,” Gus said.
At that they all laughed.
“Was it not your grandfather that so interested you in fishing and taught you so well?” Old Gus asked Nick.
“Yes. But we never fished together because of his being crippled. He taught me how to carve bass baits out of wood. And on the lawn of the big house in Wilmette he taught me how to cast. And down on the beach when the water was calm he taught me how to skip baits under trees. And how to work them. And how to make them hit the water soft. He was a tough instructor, grandfather. I practiced by the hour. Then he read to me from zoology books on the habits of certain fish. And questioned me on what was read. Just like a course in school.”
“That is why you fish so well,” Old Gus said. “I thought mostly you had an instinct for it.”
“I think you must have some instinct too,” Nick said. “And believe in it. About anything you do.”
“I have no Greek friends in Chattanooga,” Little Joe smiled. “Or relatives that I know of. Maybe we should stop and make some there. It is a shame not to have at least one friend, or relatives, in a town of such history.”
“We will see,” Gus said. “On the way back.”
They had been talking in Greek most of the way and now Joe said in English: “I think we should speak English this trip. It is an American trip and Nick is stills in uniform. That is only polite.”
“I agree,” Old Gus said in English.
“That’s fine with me,” Nick said. “But it makes no difference.”
“Some day we will all speak the same language,” Old Gus said. “It is here within us,” he said putting his hand flatly to his chest. He had huge, long, widely spread fingers. “It will not necessarily be a language of the tongue.”
“We will be long gone if that day comes,” Little Joe said. “Have some solomis, Nick.”
“Salami,” Nick said. “It’s a crime what you do to the language. English or Greek. No thanks. We just ate.”
“To eat and drink and live,” Little Joe said. “That is what we makes this trios for, it is not?”
“To fish, little one,” Old Gus said. “Remember?”
“You will fish. I, Little Joe, will just live.”
“Just,” Nick said.
It was
late afternoon now and they were past Vincennes and to the west they could see the heavy green foliage where the Wabash River was and there was no wind and it was very warm with the sun setting and the top down and they decided if the gas held they would not stop until Henderson in Kentucky.
It was dark and cool damp when they reached Henderson. Nick put up the top, which was automatic, causing great comment from Joe about what a wonderful country America was as he had never seen a car with an automatic top operate before. Nick was tired he said and would like to have a drink or two before they continued on to Nashville and while Nick was in the toilet at the gas station Joe inquired of the attendant about whether or not there was a Greek bar in town, which there was, and got the directions and though it was out of their way Joe insisted they go there.
It was a very old bar with a wooden floor and a marble back bar and a rough laboring class clientele. The walls were cracked and there were some old wooden tables and chairs and it was very busy and very bright with three huge single naked light bulbs in the high ceiling and you could tell at once the man behind the bar was Greek: short, stocky, fifty maybe, swarthy skinned, with huge black handlebar moustache twisted at the ends, pure Mediterranean Greek from top to bottom.
Joe greeted him in Greek and told him where they were from and how famous Nick’s father was and what a fine family they came from, then ordered. Joe did all the talking He asked the man what part of Greece he was from, and when the man told Joe that he was from one of the islands you could tell from Joe’s change of manner that he was suspicious of him. There was something about island Greeks that always made Joe suspicious but no one seemed to know what it was, though it was rumored that he had once had a partner in a diner who was an islander and that the partner had taken all their money and left.
Joe asked the man many questions, however, and joked with him. Nick said it was time they get back on the road and took some money from his pocket and began to hand it to the man behind the bar but Joe stopped him: “What’s the hell wrong with you kid? You want to insults your countryman? He’s-a Greek. He no let you pay,” Little Joe of the one eye said before the man behind the bar had a chance to take the money. “He’s-a your country. He no take your money anymore we take his money he come to Chicago.”
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