She nodded and smiled, my hand still gripping hers. I know, she said. You are staying with Don Frederico. I have seen you there many times.
Do you live near there? I asked, freeing her hand. Up close her brown hair was streaked with golden strands, bronzed by their months under the hot sun.
Not far, she said. You can walk from my house to his in less than cinque minutes. She spread out the fingers of her right hand and showed them to me.
Five, I said. Cinque is five.
Si, si, five, she said, biting gently on her lower lip. I forget sometimes. I do not have much occasion to speak English. Most of the tourists on the island are Germans.
I haven't seen many tourists since I've been here, I said. Must be a slow year.
Anna leaned her head to one side and laughed, sounding more like a young woman than a teenage girl. On Procida every year is a slow year, she said.
I felt at ease in her company. She had Pudge's ability to turn a five-minute stranger into a five-hour friend. I was going to walk the beach, I said to her. Would you like to come? Your friend can come along, if she likes. I pointed over Anna's shoulder at the girl she had been talking to when I had stepped out of the water.
Anna turned and shouted a good-bye to her friend and then looked back at me. Her name is Claudia, she said. She has to go back to her job at the bakery, prepare for the lunch business. But I will walk with you.
We walked up and down the long white main beach of Procida most of that morning, the waves cooling our feet, talking and laughing, filling the soft breeze with the innocent chatter of youth. And it was during that long, slow walk that I began my first summer love.
I saw Anna every day after that. We went to movies at the open-air theater, where I discovered she loved Clint Eastwood Westerns as much as I did. We went swimming after my morning lessons with Frederico and would race through the water out to the farthest anchored boat. I marveled at her speed, each lift of her arm and kick of her leg adding an extra length to an insurmountable lead. We would rest against the side of a small boat, Anna wiping the hair from her eyes, me looking for more air to pump into my dry lungs. I won't leave this island until I beat you in a race, I said to her one morning, my fingers gripping the side of a rowboat as if it were a lifeline.
That means you will die here a happy old man, Anna said.
I took her to her first dinner date, at a restaurant on the beach that served only seafood. She wore a white dress that night, short at the knee and sleeveless, dark shoes with a half-inch heel, and a blue button sweater her grandmother had knit for just such an occasion. Her hair hung off her shoulders like strands of soft thread. She wore no makeup and her face gleamed from the lights of two candles centered at our table.
Is it okay for you to have wine? I asked, sitting across from her, the menu resting flat by my side.
This is Italy, she said with a light-up-the-night smile. Wine and water is all we drink. I've had it with dinner since I was in diapers.
Good, I said, sliding the wine list over to her end of the table. Then you'll know what to order.
We went on day trips off the island, visiting the neighboring resorts of Capri and Ischia. We took long drives down the Amalfi coast, Nico a constant guide and companion. We stopped for a lunch of grilled sardines in a small cafe outside Salerno and spent a few pleasant hours mingling with German tourists walking the grounds of the lost city of Herculana. We were taken to the top of Monte Cassino, a monument of honor that Italians considered sacred ground. It was also the site of one of World War II's most brutal battles. Many people died where we are standing, Anna said, her olive-colored eyes moist. Many not much older than we are.
They were soldiers and they were told to fight, I said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
That's a silly reason to die, she said, walking with her head down, the sun beating off her tan neck.
I haven't heard many good reasons for young men to die, I said to her. Not here and not in America.
Anna stood in the middle of Monte Cassino and turned to look at me. When do you go back to your own country? she asked.
The first week in September, I said.
Will you ever come back? Anna had her head down, resting against my chest, her warm body feeling as much a part of mine as my own heart.
I can't make any promises, I whispered, my hands caressing her silk hair. All I can do is try.
Anna lifted her head and brought her lips to mine and we exchanged our first kiss, standing in the middle of what once had been ground where brave young men had died.
Nico WAS SPREAD out on the bed, his hands folded behind his head, watching as I dressed for my first dinner with Anna's parents. You sure wearing black is the way to go? I asked, glancing at his reflection in the mirror.
Most of the people on this island dress in black, Nico said. Every day of their lives.
They're all widows, I said.
He jumped from the bed, walked over to me and straightened out the collar of my shirt. Relax. It's only a dinner.
It's dinner with Anna's parents and I want it to go right.
Nico sat back down on the bed. I have to tell you, I didn't know what to expect when we got here. Didn't have a feel for how you'd take to the people and their ways. Being on this island is like being drop-kicked back a few centuries. Now, here it is, two weeks later, and you're practically a native. Then, on top of it, you go for a swim and you end up with the best-looking girl on the island on your arm. You have to admit, it beats working as a busboy in the Catskills.
It's like being in the middle of a dream you never want to see end.
Those are the ones you always remember.
There's something I need you to do, I said. Before dinner.
I already ordered flowers for her mother, if that's what you're going to ask, Nico said, slipping on a tan jacket.
It's about Angelo, I said.
What about him?
I tried to get him on the safe phone, I said. But no one picked up. That's the first time that's ever happened. There's always somebody there to cover that line.
The guy might have gone to get a cup of coffee, Nico said, heading toward the thick wood doors leading out of the room.
They're not allowed to leave the phone booth. Those are Angelo's rules and those are your men on that line.
Nico stood at the door and held it open. Don't make a big deal out of it, Gabe, he said. I'll have it checked out.
Have it checked out tonight, I said to him.
Consider it done. Nico put a hand on my shoulder. You got nothin' to worry about but mom and pop!
ANNA SAT ACROSS from me, dressed in a blue-and-white dress, her hair held from her eyes by two angel pins, her face bright and beautiful. Her father, Eduardo Pasqua, was to my right, sitting at the head of the large dining-room table. He was a tall man with a full, dark beard and a bald head, who carried himself like the successful wine merchant he had been ever since he took over the family business from his father, Giovann Giuseppe. The other head of the table was reserved for Frederico, who was there as a friend and to formally introduce me to the Pasqua clan, which also included a shy older brother, Roberto, and Carla, a precocious six-year-old, who giggled whenever she glanced my way. Frederico's wife, Donatella, dressed in a simple dark blue dress that showed off her aging beauty, sat next to me, her warm hand patting my clammy knuckles whenever I fumbled over a word or botched an Italian phrase. Nico sat across from Anna's mother, a tall, stunning woman, with short black hair and an easy laugh, his smooth charm quickly putting her at ease.
As custom dictated, I had presented Anna's father with a gift, one meant to symbolize my good intentions. The gift had to be one that could be used by the entire family; since I didn't have the slightest clue as to what to get, I left the delicate choice up to Frederico. Eduardo is a proud man, he told me one morning a few days before the dinner, and he will require a gift that reflects that pride. All the same, we cannot overdo it, because that would insult him. So, it must be one which touches his heart.
I guess that rules out a dozen roses and a bottle of wine, I said with a shrug.
Wine he has in abundance, Frederico said, lighting a cheroot and walking alongside me through his groves. Flowers his signora can pick at will from her garden. Both would be appreciated, but neither would leave them breathless with the joy of your gift.
Do I give them the gift as soon as we meet? I asked, a bit overwhelmed by all the rules that needed to be followed.
No, you must wait, Frederico said, resting a hand on my shoulder. Until after the secondo piante, come si dice?
The main course, I said with a nod.
Si, the main course, Frederico said. After that, you will make mention of your gift.
What if he doesn't like it? I asked.
Then, mio caro amico, we will all at least have had ourselves a good meal, Frederico said. We will then simply drink our coffees, smoke our cigars and go our way. Still a pleasant night.
You have so many rules for such a small island, I said.
We are set in our ways, that is true, Frederico said, looking at me and waving a stubby finger in my direction. But it makes life so much easier. You always know what is expected, be it a marriage, a funeral or a simple summer meal.
Then, we better make sure the gift we give is the right one, I said, staring at Frederico. Nothing less than perfect.
Frederico laughed and shook his head and picked up the pace of his walk. It is, he said, moving a few lengths ahead of me. Trust me, mio caro, it is truly perfect.
I CUT INTO a thick slice of lasagna, trying to eat and digest several conversations ongoing at once. Eduardo made sure my wineglass was never empty and he smiled whenever we spoke. I glanced at Anna every few minutes and occasionally caught a comforting look back. I watched as she brought in large platters of food and cleared back to the kitchen the ones that had been emptied. The mood was holiday festive, with Frederico, by far, the happiest of all at the table. The rugged old Don ate until he was full and drank way past sober, knowing all along that he had helped secure such a wonderful gift that Anna and her family would be left speechless with joy.
We had given them a horse.
A prime-quality, two-year-old palomino named Annarella. She had a shiny gold coat, white legs and tail and a white pyramid mark on her face. The gift was as much for Anna's mother as it was for her father, since both loved to ride and were thrilled to own such a fine animal, especially given the fact that it was a rare find in their part of the world. It had taken Frederico a week to have the animal bought, shipped and delivered as he worked quietly, without the use of either phone or telex, to spread the request.
Are you sure this is what her father would want? I asked Frederico, standing in the center of his well-lit barn, watching as the palomino took an apple from my palm. He has a dozen horses in his stables. Why would he want another?
Those are workhorses, to help pull the wine carts into town, Frederico said, gently stroking Annarella's mane. This is a champion and will give him a whole line of champions. This one they all can ride with pride.
Don Frederico's right on the money, Nico said, admiring the horse from a distance, looking at her legs and muscular front. If it were up to me, I would have picked up two. One for here and one for the States.
I didn't know you liked to ride, I said to Nico, letting Annarella rub her nose against my back.
I've never been on one in my life, Nico said. I let others ride. Like jockeys at the track. A horse like this can bring in millions.
Her millions will be earned in the pleasure she will bring to the Pasquas, Frederico said. You have done well here in such a short time. You have taken to your lessons like a serious young man and have learned to respect our ways. I pray they stay with you for the rest of your life. If they do, I will feel as if I have completed my task.
I walked over to Don Frederico and embraced him, kissing him respectfully on both cheeks. I won't ever forget you, I said. Or this place. I'll always remember my days here in your company.
Then we are both honored, Don Frederico said as he lowered his head, took Annarella's reins and led her back inside her stall.
THE DINNER WAS nearing its end, as a final glass of Strega was poured for the table.
Go now, young man, Eduardo said to me after I had downed the bitter drink. Your time among the old is at an end. I'm sure Anna waits for you, and if she truly is her father's daughter she does so without patience.
Thank you. I eased myself casually out of the large room that was just down the hall from the dining area.
Non ce di che Eduardo Pasqua said with a slight tilt of his head.
Can I ask one small favor? I said, reaching for the doorknob. It would mean a lot to me if you said yes.
Then ask, Eduardo said. And I will do my all to see that it is done.
Can I let Anna take the palomino out for her first ride?
Eduardo Pasqua looked at me for several long moments, then slowly nodded his head. She will like that, he said, his voice cracking slightly. And I will like it even more.
That night, under the smiling glow of a full moon, Anna Pasqua rode the palomino up and down a sand strip on an empty beach of a small vacation island in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. I sat on the cool sand, my hands folded against my knees, and watched her glide gently past me. The wind stretched her long hair out like a full-blown sail, her hands were loose on the reigns, the splash of the water rose up and wet her dress and the sides of her bare legs. She rode bareback, occasionally leaning over to whisper words that only the horse could hear. In those moments, nothing else mattered and no other place existed. Despite the chill of the night air, my face and arms were warm to the touch and a calm washed over my body. It was a night I never wanted to see end.
MY PEACE WAS shattered the next morning. I turned in bed, my face warmed by the early sunlight. I opened my eyes and saw Don Frederico sitting on a wooden chair, his back to me, looking out at the sea lapping gently against the wet sand. Get dressed and meet me on the terrace, he said, as soon as he heard me stir.
He walked with silent footsteps out of the room and onto the patio. I raced to do as he asked, tossing on a polo shirt and a clean pair of jeans. What's wrong? I stood in front of him, the rising sun washing over the cool tiles of the small terrace outside my room.
There was an attempt made on Angelo's life, Frederico said. His eyes gave weight to his anger. He was betrayed by one of his own.
Is he okay? I could feel my hands and legs shake as I spoke.
Angelo is a man with many lives. He was shot at twice, both bullets missed.
Who was behind it? I asked, stepping closer to the old man.
I do not know the name of the man who shot at him, Frederico said. I only know who it was that ordered it done.
I put my hands on Don Frederico's wrists and held them, helping to brace myself against the rolling shock of emotions I felt. Who? Nico, Frederico said.
IT DIDN'T MAKE any sense, I told Mary, walking alongside her down the hospital corridor. I had just spent all these weeks learning lessons about honor and loyalty and friendship and then I find out someone Angelo and I both trusted tries to have him killed.
It would be hard enough for a grown man to understand, Mary said. It's harder on a seventeen-year-old boy.
I was living in a world that doesn't allow you to stay young for very long, I said. I was a kid in the middle of my first summer love when I had to make an adult decision on whether Nico lived or died.
You could have waited until you and Nico were back in America, Mary said. Then have Angelo deal with it.
That wasn't part of their plan, I said. I had to handle the job on Nico. It was one more lesson I needed to learn.
You could have said no, Gabe, Mary said, stopping next to a water fountain, bending down to take a long drink. You could have always said no.
I didn't know any other way but to say yes. It was how I'd been taught. How I'd been raised. There wasn't any choice in the matter.
There's always choice, Mary said with defiance. Especially when someone's life is being decided on. Did you ever think for a moment that you were wrong? That Nico was only part of an even bigger plan that had been designed to keep you where they wanted you kept?
Yes, I said, staring back at her. But I wasn't sure, at least not enough to hold back from what I was asked to do.
That's the decision of a gangster, Gabe, Mary said. Not a boy.