by Mike Coony
“Very funny Gerry.”
———
I showed Earl out to the patio and got us two glasses of cold beer.
“Thanks kid.”
“What’s with the kid Earl? What’s with all this…you coming over here outa the blue and I ain’t got a clue what about. Is there something I need to know? Should I be worried? Spit it out, now.”
“Yes, Vincenzo…you mind I don’t call you Gerry when there’s no one else around to hear? I prefer to call you Vincenzo, seeing as that’s the name your mother gave you, God rest her soul.”
“What’s going on here?!” I yelled, slamming my beer glass down on the patio table. “What are you saying Earl? IRS, FBI, CIA? Which goddamn one are you? Who sent you?”
“Vincenzo…Vincenzo…calm down. I’m sorry, there’s nothing to be upset over. You have nothing to be worried about. I didn’t mean…nothin’ like that see. I’m a friend of the family, your Uncle Angelo sent me.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about Earl. Angelo disowned me. Everybody knows that. So what gives?”
“Vincenzo, think about it for a minute. You think I’d approach any schmuck I don’t know from Adam and start talkin’ about my business? Huh? You think I’d then go into business with a guy I just met? That don’t make no sense, right?”
“Yeah…well…I suppose. But how come we never met back home in Brooklyn? And you close enough to know my mother…God rest her soul.”
“Yes, I knew your mother. She was a beautiful woman, and I did pay my respects at the funeral. Me and your Uncle Angelo, we go way back, but we don’t socialise too much because we need to be discreet. You understand kid?”
“Yes I fucking understand. So us meeting that first morning on the veranda at the Pousada de São Tiago was no accident. Jesus Christ!”
“No Vincenzo, it wasn’t. Before I go on, is it OK I call you Vincenzo?”
“It’s been a long time since anyone called me Vincenzo. But yeah…go ahead…just when we’re alone, capisce? Understand?”
“I ain’t Sicilian like you Vincenzo, but capisce, I know. Now, let me explain….Your Uncle Angelo sent me to make sure you were doin’ all right for yourself. You’re still his favourite nephew. He figured you got the smarts to do OK for yourself out here, and…well…he didn’t want the family to miss out on any of that. If you know what I mean.”
“Sure Earl, I know what you mean. Uncle Angelo figured I could make him a few bucks, even though I’m excommunicated….Like he’s the goddamn Pope, huh?”
“Naw…don’t take it like that kid. Angelo wanted someone on the inside of whatever you got going on, to make sure you’re OK…and if there’s money to be made, so be it. I came to you with a solid money-making proposition, didn’t I? See, Vincenzo, Angelo just wants to make sure you’re all right, to ease your way. And if he can make a nice profit at the same time, so be it. You can’t fault a man for that kid.”
“Yeah, all right. But who else’s been spying on me for Uncle Angelo.”
“Well…he sent Sui-Lin to make sure all the paperwork for our business is handled good and proper.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Sui-Lin? I thought she was Uncle Sui’s idea to keep an eye on Flynn?”
“Not exactly. Your Uncle Angelo used to run rackets on the cruise ships with Sui-Lin’s father, when they were young men starting out in the life. She grew up on the inside of all this shit, just like you, and she’s proved to be a great asset. Not to mention that she’s also a hell of a little body guard. Angelo didn’t count on you putting her in an office with the Irishman, but he doesn’t object.”
“What about Uncle Sui and Finn Flynn. Are they plants?”
“Nope. They’re bonuses in the good luck sweepstakes, I guess.”
“Earl, did you just come here to tell me you’re a spy, or what?”
“No. Your Uncle Angelo’s decided he wants you back in the States, living close by the family.”
“You don’t say! Well Earl, tell me what’s happened to convince Uncle Angelo to do so much for his abandoned nephew. And there’s Nataliya Yelena and Nakita Sylvina to think about now.”
“Yes Vincenzo, Angelo knows about your Russian girl and her kid, and he’s making arrangements to help.”
“You didn’t answer my question Earl. Why would Angelo want to help me get a hooker’s kid out of Moscow? He said he was never speaking to me again…after what happened.”
“Come on Vincenzo. You remember the way your uncle behaves. Angelo does what he wants…for his own reasons. Well, ten years and nothing’s changed.”
Earl stood up to stretch his legs, and he sat back down with a sigh.
“Angelo wants his favourite nephew home now, and if that means moving heaven and earth to get the kid from Moscow, then that’s what’s going to happen. Believe me Vincenzo…that’s what’s going to happen!”
“Fine Earl, but why now?”
“You’ve got to understand…since that unpleasant business with your wife…rest her sweet soul, eh…you had to go away. But you were never out of Angelo’s thoughts…never!”
“Never mind that bitch’s soul Earl, which, let me tell you, was never sweet. Something happened to bring all this consideration from Angelo. What is it?”
“When you took up with Nataliya Yelena, that’s what tipped the old man in your favour. He was impressed, Vincenzo, very impressed.”
“Impressed about what?”
“It’s not for me to comment…but after you caved Yvonne’s head in with a baseball bat…and her pool-boy-gigolo along with her…the shrinks Angelo hired for your defence told him things. They told him that you’d never enjoy another relationship with a woman.”
“Are you goddamn kidding me? This just gets better and better. Continue.”
“Understand Vincenzo, Angelo, he’s a traditional Sicilian. The thought of not having a woman in your bed means either you’re a priest…and God knows, a priest you’ll never be…or you’re one of them…a homosexual.”
“Holy fucking Christ!” Uncle Angelo believed that I, the son of his brother, could be an omosessuale…a homosexual!
“So, when Angelo heard you were serious about this Russian girl…wham! He’s yelling orders to everyone. ‘Look after my favourite nephew.’ ‘Take care of Vincenzo.’ ‘He needs help? Help him!’”
So, Earl and Sui-Lin Rodriguez are plants – and I didn’t spot them! Matto…crazy! In spite of everything they said at the time, the family’s been looking out for me. That makes me feel real good – yeah, real good!
———
It is a steep climb up to the Trappist Haven Monastery on Lantau Peak, but it is worth every step. The view of the sea is breathtaking, and the hike seems to have cleared my mind…a little.
Our Russian Orthodox churches are much more elaborate than Roman Catholic churches, but I find peace in this simple church that the Trappist monks worked so hard to build. Imagine, a handful of men dragged everything three thousand feet up the side of a mountain to build this monastery.
I knelt on the steps in front of the altar and said a prayer for my daughter, Finn Flynn and Anna. Бога и святого Николая благословить и сохранить их в безопасности….God and Saint Nicholas bless and keep them safe.
The Trappist monks do not speak, they communicate with smiles and gestures – a nod of the head is yes and a shake is no. Before I left the monastery I got a wink which, if it had not come from the abbot, would probably have got a monk into trouble.
As I climb down from the monastery I know in my heart – for sure, for definite – that my little Nakita Sylvina will soon be with me. I hope Gerry’s finished his business with Earl by the time I get home….
“Hello my darling. I’m back from my walk.”
“Hi sweetie. Was it a nice walk?”
“Yes. Have you ever been to the monastery? It is so different, so plain, compared to a Russian Orthodox church. It is nothing like Sai
nt Basil’s in Red Square, which is really the Cathedral of the Intercession of the Virgin on the Moat…”
“Oh my God! I never thought to ask! Uncle Angelo’s sure to expect a church wedding. He’d get the Pope there…if he was still an Italian and not that Polack actor.”
“Gerry…Gerry…what are you talking about? You’re confusing me.”
“Nataliya Yelena, first, it ain’t Gerry. My name’s Vincenzo…Vincenzo Zambito. Second, you’ll marry me, right? I forgot to ask. Third, I’m a Sicilian Roman Catholic see, and there, right there’s the problem, OK? I’ve got to marry inside the Church. Uncle Angelo won’t bless any other marriage.”
“Oh Gerry! Oh Vincenzo Zambito! Да, да...yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you! This is wonderful! I thought you were Jewish and I would have to convert, become a Jewess. They don’t treat Jews very well in the Soviet Union you know. What am I saying? I don’t live there anymore. I am a Russian Orthodox Catholic and you are a Roman Catholic…the next best thing to Russian Orthodox. I will be a Roman Catholic, and I will pray to Mary and not Nicholas. Poor Nicholas, he’ll miss my prayers.”
35
MOSCOW
A limousine with blackened windows pulled up to the hotel at ten thirty a.m. The rear door opened and Finn motioned for me to get in first. Robin is sitting in the seat facing the back window.
“Here are the things you need,” said Robin, as he handed me an envelope.
“Thank you.”
“Can you take us to GUM?” Finn asked.
Robin nodded and used an intercom to give the driver directions in rapid Mandarin. We pulled into the fast-moving traffic and headed towards Red Square.
“Have you made any progress with your problem?” Robin asked in careful English.
“Can this car be used to convey us and our guest to the railway station?” asked Finn, ignoring Robin’s question.
“We have been ordered to offer any assistance we can. Using this car will be no problem. However, once again, have you made any progress? I am required to report to my Mountain Master. He does not like me to leave him in the dark.”
“Everything is going along great. Tell your Mountain Master that we’re very satisfied with the help you’re giving us. Once we return to Asia, and reunite the child with her mother, I will personally inform Uncle Sui of all that you’ve done for us. Please understand, we have yet to make detailed plans. But you will be fully briefed when we’ve finalised our strategy,” Finn assured him.
Robin accepted Finn’s answer, but I think he’ll be asking the same question again. And so would I like to know what the plan is…or if there is a plan at all.
The limousine pulled over at the entrance of GUM. Finn reached into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of American dollars; he stuffed them into my hand as we got out of the car.
“Here, buy whatever you need to make you look like a chick from the icy wastes of wherever you’re supposed to be from. See that coffee shop? Let’s meet there in an hour.”
“Better make it two. I’ve heard rumours about shopping in Russia…no one rushes,” I joked.
“Ha, very funny,” Finn grimaced. “OK, two hours.”
I was excited when Mac asked me if I’d go to Moscow to help Finn; I took a month of unpaid leave from work. I first told my mother that I was going away for a while. My mother has a new male friend and she wasn’t interested, but my dad sent me four thousand kronor – a lot of money for a school teacher. With all the dollars Finn gave me, it looks like I might be able to return my dad’s savings…and I would definitely like to do that.
I’m wandering around the shops, and I keep thinking about Little Nakita Sylvina; she won’t be able to wear heavy winter clothes once we reach southern China…if that’s the route Finn intends us to travel. I guessed her size when I was shopping in Helsinki, and my first purchases are for her – a summer frock with Minnie Mouse on the pocket, pink trainers, socks, three T-shirts, three pairs of shorts, and a hat.
The shops in GUM are almost as up to date with fashions as Stockholm’s PUB department store; it’s not so easy to find hick-looking-Russian-made outfits. As I’m going from shop to shop, searching for dull tops and trousers, I’m beginning to wonder what awaits me in Hong Kong. I’m sure Finn is seeing girls, maybe even living with one. Will he dump them, or her, for me? I hope so…I really do hope so. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.
I bought my clothes, and then I bought a doll for Nakita Sylvina, a silk scarf for Galina Maksimovna, and a large, ugly suitcase. I stuffed all my purchases in the case and set off for the coffee place.
I’m used to traipsing around the snow-covered streets back home in Helsingborg and Stockholm. But trying to cross bloody Red Square in the snow, dragging a heavy suitcase, is getting me down. Finn saw me struggling with the suitcase and he ran through the snow and grabbed it. “Here, give me that,” he said, as he lifted me right off my feet and kissed me. He makes me so happy!
We went to the café and sat down at his table in the quaint bow window.
“So, what did you get up to while I was hard at work?” I asked.
“I walked around Red Square, mingling with groups of tourists. I followed an English-speaking tour guide who said people think it’s called Red Square because of the red bricks of the buildings, but that’s probably wrong. The name for the square in Russian is Krasnaya Ploshchad, and the tour guide said krasnaya translates to either ‘red’ or ‘beautiful’, and ploshchad refers to Saint Basil’s Cathedral, at the south end of the square. So it could as easily be known as Beautiful Cathedral Square. How about that, then? I wasn’t wasting my time at Trinity College after all,” he smiled.
“Of course not, my darling.”
“It wasn’t all fun and games,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “While you were inside at GUM the snow was swirling around me. After listening to the tour guide, I turned to face the Lobnoye Mesto, or Place of Skulls, where it’s said the tsars carried out public executions. They say that there’s nothing like an execution to concentrate the mind….Anyway, it got me concentrating on how we’ll get Nakita Sylvina safely back to her mother. But we’ll talk about that later. Are you ready to go?”
“Finn, have a heart. I’ve not even drunk half my coffee…and I want to catch my breath. But I’m happy that you’re working out a plan…which, I imagine, you will not be revealing to Robin, the inscrutable Chinaman?”
“Fair enough, drink your coffee. And you’re right…I’ll not be giving any details to Mister Inscrutable until I have to. So, not wanting to rush you…but can we go now?”
———
As Finn and I were having our dinner, I don’t really know why, but I thought about Ingrid. I wonder how she’s managing in the Canary Isles all on her own…a lost soul away from home.
“Finn, I hope I don’t end up like Ingrid…with no friends around me, looking over my shoulder all the time.”
He reached his big paw across the table, covered my hand with his and gave it a little squeeze. “Don’t fret my beauty. I’ll never let that happen to you, I swear I won’t.”
I believe him. How could I not…when he sounds so sincere and looks into my eyes and into my soul? Before my warm feeling passed, I rushed up to our rooms and packed my things in my ugly new suitcase.
When I arrived at Theatre Apartments there was no one behind the reception desk. Ringing the bell doesn’t bring anyone rushing out to help me, so I left my suitcase in the hallway and knocked on Galina Maksimovna’s door.
The door swung open and there’s Nakita Sylvina wearing a play nurse’s uniform; her blonde hair is almost completely hidden under a stiff white cap. She looked at me for a moment, trying to remember where she’s seen me before. Then her little face broke into a sweet smile.
“Baba, Baba Maksimovna, the lady! It’s the pretty lady!” she called out.
Mrs. Maksimovna appeared behind Nakita with a tea towel in her hand and a curious expression on her face. “So it’s you…the travelle
r from Murmansk. You don’t look so smart today.”
“I’m an actress. I was wearing the clothes of a westerner…for the film I’m in…when we met yesterday,” I said, blurting out the first thing that came into my head to explain my appearance.
Mrs. Maksimovna moved Nakita Sylvina aside with a gentle tap on her behind and stepped into the lobby. “Where’s that drunkard Dmitri Polskiva got to? In the bar drinking vodka, that’s where! An actress you say, and a working actress?” She kept talking while she was rooting around in a drawer behind the reception desk. “Have you got the money to pay for a room? They’re very expensive you know, even for westerners…never mind for a little slip of a thing from the frozen north.”
“Yes, I have the money,” I said, taking a hundred rouble note from my pocket.
“Forget about the paperwork, my eyes are not as good as they used to be. When Nataliya Yelena was around…such a clever girl…of course, we didn’t live here then. That was before….Your room is next to mine,” she said, as she held up a key. “It’s a little cheaper than the upstairs rooms. Come over after you unpack. We’ll drink tea….I can not give you vodka.”
I’m excited with the way things are going. Galina Maksimovna’s already mentioned Nataliya, and little Nakita Sylvina seemed pleased to see me again. The cheaper room is a reasonable size; it has basic furnishings, and it’s decorated in the sort of impersonal style of hotel chains.
I went over to their apartment after I unpacked; we sat together at a small round table with a floral print tablecloth. Galina Maksimovna is preparing tea with hot water from her samovar.
“This is such a pretty tablecloth. My mother uses one exactly like it when special guests are coming for tea. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll think of myself as a special guest. Is that OK Nakita?” I said.
“Oh yes, yes. You are our special guest from Murmansk where the trees are ice lolly pops. Ha ha!” replied little Nakita, as she poured pretend tea from her plastic silver teapot.
———
I met Finn for lunch at a café on Klimentovsky Pereulok. Spotting him at the back of the café, I sidestepped legs jutting out from tables and made my way over to him.
