Frank Polizzi - Somewhere in the Stars

“Si papà tu sei un uomo di fiducia, a man of trust, as Padre Esposito would say.”

“ Padre Esposito?”

“ Papà , if you are a proud man, then you must find other work. You can’t sit around the house while Mamma sews in a shop with two temperatures, steaming hot or damp cold.”

“It is easy for you to say. You are young. I am too old to start a fishing business again.” Gaetano became lost in his thoughts, then mumbled: “È veru, figghiu miu ma …”

“But what, Pop?”

“I did not want to tell you all these things, but the U.S. Navy returned my fishing boat. It was unseaworthy, good for nothin’. Do you know what I did to that boat, which your mother and me scrimped and saved for, the fastest purse seiner in the bay? Do you want to know what I did? I set the useless junk boat afire at the dock of Fisherman’s Wharf, right where it once rested gently in the water, its shiny wood gleaming in the sun.”

“A lot of crazy things went on during the war, Pop, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. Don’t take this in the wrong way, but I have an idea. You could work in Ziu Francesco’s alimentaria. Help him supervise the young busters. Maybe even set up a fresh fish counter in the back.”

Gaetano put his head down. “Maybe, as you say. We’ll see.” Gaetano looked up and tapped Nick’s cheek. “I’ve got it,” Gaetano said with a questioning look. “Before, your faccia shows it. There has to be some other girl. You can no fool your father.”

“After all you went through, we’re back to this topic. Minchia !”

“I am right.”

“Beni! Okay, okay. I was with an Italian woman in Roma. A Milanese !”

“Minchia ! Don’t get involved with the Northerners. The ones from the Mezzogiorno will understand you better, especially the Siciliani .”

“I’m American, Pop. Remember, I was born here.”

“Maleducatu! Don’t get smart with me.” Gaetano smiled at his son. “Continue with your story about the Milanese .”

“I even lived with her a while.”

“Si, of course. Go on.”

“You wouldn’t like what she did to get by during the war.”

“Don’t say anymore.” Gaetano raised his palm up. “Va beni. The war is over and you are safe at home. You’ll meet another woman.”

“It’s not as simple as that, Pop.” Nick rubbed his hands through his hair and stared at the fig tree.

“What’s her name?”

“Caterina.”

“You love this woman?”

“I don’t know, Pop. I don’t even know where she is now.”

“I don’t think your mother would like comu si chiama ?”

“Caterina.” Nick’s face showed exasperation.

“Your mother would want a nice Sicilian girl for you. If no, then an Americana who comes from a respected family.”

“I don’t want a nice girl, Pop.”

“You are my only son and I want you to be happy.” His father’s eyes popped out. “I’ll make a deal with you. I don’t care what happened with this Milanese girl from Roma. If you like, I’ll convince your mother about Caterina’s purity. I am very good at telling stories.”

“I appreciate everything you and Mamma have done.” Nick embraced his father and then let go. “But it’s best if you let me sort this thing out myself.”

“So maybe you should go with your friend. Nathan è bonu comu lu pane.”

“As good as bread, Papà .”

Gaetano tweaked his cheek. “He needs you now. You can go back to school in the fall.”

“I don’t know, Pop.”

“Maybe the trip will do you good. Allura, all you do is read your books and take notes.” Gaetano clasped Nick’s shoulders. “You need to pick yourself up. You will have an adventure!”

“As Mamma and you have noticed, I’m very mixed up right now.”

Gaetano grabbed his son’s face and turned it toward him. “Look into my eyes, figghiu miu.” Nick stared at his father. “Do you know what I see? You left as a boy and came back as a man. Your mother and me are very proud of you. And as you are a man, you have known love, and may still be in love. Your father knows about these things.” Gaetano wrapped his arm around his son. “You know there is an old Sicilian saying— Amari e disamari nun sta a cui lu voli fari. You don’t choose whom to love and not love. Capisci ?”

“I guess.”

“ Bravu .”

As they walked back in the house, Lucia was standing at the door, teary-eyed for things she could not hear but must have felt. He thought about his parents, and how they must have not slept one peaceful night till the day he stepped back into their home on Stockton Street. He told them he was going to take a walk and not to worry so much.

Before he left, he went into the kitchen and shouted to his mother who was whispering to Gaetano in the living room. “Mamma, do you have any caponata left?”

She stood at the entrance. “ Si, there’s a sealed one left on the top shelf.”

“Can I have it?”

“Certo. For your girlfriend?”

“Grazie Mamma !”

Nick trekked for several miles until he reached the jazz joint, Jack’s Tavern. The same bartender, Billy McClellan from his 18th birthday party, was still there. Nick held the jar of caponata in the air for the bartender to see, who smiled when he recognized Nick. He took off his apron and had his barback take over for him, motioning to Nick to follow him outside because there was a bebop set going on with its fortissimo brass sounds racing away.

“After all these years! It’s Nick, right?” Nick smiled. “And what’s this? Wait a minute, you brought me some capo…”

“ Caponata .”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I wanted you to have the eggplant appetizer that my Mamma made.”

“Well I do sure appreciate that. “It’s been awhile, but I remember you was regulars before you guys left for the army. Glad you made it back alive. Where’s your cousin?”

“My cousin Paul was killed in action when we were in Italy.”

“God damn, I am sorry to hear that, son. It must hurt bad!” Nick grimaced and Billy rubbed his chin. “But I do have some good news to share. My boy, William Junior, he joined up before he finished college and came back in one piece as 1st Lieutenant. Tuskegee Airmen of 332nd Fighter Group. Only Negroes to fly in the war. Woo-eee, that boy was some pilot.”

“Glad your son made it back safe.”

“You look a little under the weather, Nick. Is everything okay?”

“I don’t want to keep you from your job.”

“I’d rather talk with you awhile. I get mo’ tired these days.”

“Well, there is one thing now that you mention it.”

“Shoot!”

“See my other buddy, Nathan. He used to come here too.”

“You mean the fella who always came in with a sketch book?”

“Yeah, that’s him. Anyway, he went off to Italy to find a girl he was sweet on. But I didn’t want to go with him.”

“Well, I suppose he can take care of hisself. Is that all?”

“He’s desperate. Needs me there and I turned him down because…”

“Because why?”

“I am afraid to go back. I left someone there too, you know, but it was a bad situation.”

“That’s something only you can deal with when it comes to matters of the heart, if that’s what you getting’ at. As for your buddy, you can’t desert him.”

“As soon as classes ended, he scrammed on the first train for New York City to catch an ocean liner. He should be somewhere near the port now.”