Frank Polizzi - Somewhere in the Stars

The internees were huddled in groups around the yard. Gaetano and a few paesani from his neighborhood were looking through the chain link fence. Lucia saw Gaetano first and ran over to him.

“Cara mia ,” Gaetano called.

“Gaetano, Gaetano! You look like you lost weight.”

“Lucia, I’m all right.” He kissed her fingertips that gripped the fence. “I’ll see you inside.”

Gaetano waved the boys towards the visitors’ gate. The guards asked for identification, questioned their reason for the visit and examined the bags they carried. Two were allowed in, so Paul waited outside. An effusive din greeted them as they met Gaetano in a cramped visitors’ room. Lucia ran to her husband, embracing and kissing him. After Nick kissed Gaetano on both cheeks, they squeezed around a table shared with other families.

“It’s been a long time, Lucia,” Gaetano said. “I missed you.”

“Si, anch’io . I pray for you every night.” A tear dripped down her face.

“Chi cosa, Lucia ?” She forced a smile and he placed his hand on hers.

Gaetano turned towards his son. “Eh, how is my young man?”

“We’ve been very concerned about you, Papà,” Nick said. “Cuginu Paul is outside.”

“I can’t complain.” Gaetano looked at his son. “Petra disprizzata, cantunera di muro. Capisci, Nicolo?”

“The rejected stone will become the cornerstone of the wall.”

“Beni, figghiu miu. You remember everything.”

“I saw a few of your paesani behind the fence.”

“They manage like me. But I hear things are worse in camps run by the Army.”

“How so, Papà ?”

“Paesani say they get very angry if you use the enemy language near them.”

Nick lowered his voice. “What happened to your case? Signuri Arcuri l’avvucatu sent letters in your defense.”

“Si, there was this special meeting. Comu si dici?”

“Hearing panel.”

“Si, they ignore tuttu. They saya, Mr. Spataro, we are sorry your past history leaves us no choice but declare you enemy alien. They no sorry!”

“How is this possible, Papà ?”

Gaetano glanced sideways.

“You looka pale, Gaetano. Mancia !” Lucia untied a package of sandwiches, a stack of breaded veal cutlets on crusty peasant bread. She gave one to her husband and watched as he ate.

“È bonu, Lucia!”

Nick grabbed one for Paul and put it in his jacket pocket, then took another for himself. “Mamma, eat something.” He held a sandwich up for his mother to see.

“I am no hungry.”

Nick devoured the sandwich and Lucia turned to him. “Go see what you and Paul find out. Avanti !”

“I’ll try to talk sense to them, Papà ,” Nick said.

“Figghiu miu!” Gaetano boasted as he bolted away. Lucia took a small bite of her sandwich and swallowed it.

“How you liva with all these strangers?” Lucia asked.

“It not so bad. I even made some new friends.”

“Sicilianu?”

“ Si! E altri regioni .”

When Nick stepped outside, he found his cousin leaning on the wall. He took the sandwich out of his coat pocket.

“Catch, Paul.” His cuginu ripped half the paper off, eating in wide bites. While Nick waited for Paul to finish, he realized that he had forgotten something. “I’ll be back in a sec. Forgot my cigarettes.”

Making his way through the cramped quarters, he held back behind some visitors after he heard his mother blurt out: “I told you million times, getta your papers. You no listen to me. Madonna !”

“Mannaggia, already you start in. What, you have a crystal ball that you know so much? You no tella me what to do.” He showed his palms to Lucia. “Look at my hands from pulling nets.”

“But we have to paya the bills. What about the mortgage on the house? We stilla owe for the boat too.”

“Forget about the boat! Navy took it. Then, they tell me later it’ll be converted to a minesweeper. For the war effort, they saya.”

“Chi sacciu? You never tella me.”

Her husband’s eyes reddened and he shouted: “I no want to be cooped up here come un’animale!”

“No raisa your voice,” Lucia pleaded, as she inspected the room, but hadn’t noticed Nick in the crowded room. “You don’t know what they’ll do.” She wiped her tears away with a white hanky.

“ Nicolo will take care of everything. No worry, cara mia .”

“Gaetano, you are a good man. No matta what America say, ti amu !”

Nick moved around a few visitors and interrupted. “ Scusi , I forgot my cigarettes.” He picked them up and trotted back to his cousin, rubbing his tears away. He couldn’t bear to see his parents arguing like this.

“What took you so long, cuginu ?”

“I got lost.”

Paul laughed at Nick. “Like lost in those books you always got your nose in.”

“Cut the crap, will ya!”

“Don’t get so sore. Just jokin’ with you.”

“Let’s find the headquarters.”

Nick and Paul found a guard who directed them to the Post Headquarters of the Immigration and Naturalization Service for the camp. The office was filled with tall file cabinets containing dossiers on all the internees. The INS supervisor, who wore wire-rimmed glasses, sat dead center at his desk, surrounded by his subordinates. After being frisked at the entrance, the two cousins entered.

“How can I help you gentlemen?” the supervisor asked.

“My father, Gaetano Spataro, is being held here. It’s gotta be some kind of mistake.” An assistant pulled out his father’s file and the supervisor glanced at it.

“Sorry, but this is not a case of mistaken identity. Your father is still a citizen of Italy and never renounced his allegiance to that country, now our enemy. That’s what it means to be an enemy alien.”

“That’s my uncle. He ain’t no alien!” The supervisor curled his lip.

“My father is just a fisherman.”

“His fate has been determined by Presidential Order, Proclamation 2527, signed by the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces.” He peeped over his glasses and stated: “That’s President Franklin Delano Roosevelt.”

“I know that. All I’m saying is that my father’s an honest family man.”

“He’s already had a hearing here. I was present. Your father belonged to the Federation of Italian War Veterans. It was duly noted in his record.”

“He’s no Fascist.”

The supervisor began straightening out the papers on his desk.

Paul reached into his jacket. “Look! My enlistment papers for the Army. I’m willing to fight, even against Italians!”

“That’s very patriotic, young man, but there’s nothing I can do for your uncle.”

“It’s not right!” Nick shouted.

“Lieutenant General John DeWitt is running the show. Complain to the War Department. They placed the general in charge of the Western Military Command. We’re just following his guidelines.”

The supervisor placed his glasses into a black case and eyed the guard at the door. “I have already said more than I’m obliged to. You’ll have to leave now or I’ll have you two shown the camp gates.”

Paul grabbed his cousin’s arm. “Let’s get out of here, Nick.”

When they got outside, they went back to the visitors’ reception area. They stopped for another smoke. Paul struck a match and lit his cousin’s cigarette first and then his.

“It’s a rotten deal, Nick.” Nick turned away from his cousin as he dragged on a cigarette. “Is there anything I can do, cuginu ?”