Excerpt
As Gino took over the tiller, he felt a wonderful kind of freedom. The boat just sailed through the water like the pro she was and it was exhilarating to feel the wind in his face. The sea was an incredible shade of blue and the foamy wake made by the boat reminded him of the tatted lace collar on Mama’s one and only Sunday church dress. Thoughts of his mama, papa and eight brothers and sister brought up feelings of sadness. He missed them terribly and made a vow that if everything went well, he would bring his beloved family to America so they could all be together again.
When the sun went down into the sea in a splash of red and orange, Gino stood in awe at the magic of the moment and he knew in his heart that everything was going to be all right, that God was giving him a second chance and that he better not do anything to spoil his golden opportunity.
Sergio awakened from his nap to a magnificent sunset sky. God, the ultimate painter had brushed his fingers across his palette and with a grand gesture, spread the horizon with streaks of yellow, red, orange and purple, with the purple extending into a darkening sky.
He lit the lanterns and in no time brought the boat into the harbor of the small town where Enrico Capaci lived. Carefully, they moored the boat and looked around for someone to meet them. They saw no one, and as it looked like rain was imminent; Sergio suggested they begin to walk to the Capaci property; he knew the way as he had been there several times before. They had strong legs and if they walked quickly, they might avoid the downpour that happens when it rains in Italy. Lightning flashed menacingly and the thunder followed with powerful, deafening booms.
“We better run for it, Gino if we don’t want to drown.” His feet hit the road as he spoke. Gino followed and as they ran quickly towards their destination, small drops of water pelted their faces, and very quickly became bigger and wetter drops.
“I see smoke coming from a chimney. It can’t be much further now, Gino. Yes, there is the house.”
Happily, both men ran up to the door of the house and knocked loudly, shook the rain out of their hair and made a puddle as they stamped their wet boots. The door opened and a very old man with a humped back stood with his hand on the door latch. In his other hand, he held a gnarled, wooden cane with owls and birds carved along its length. Wrapped around his neck was a long scarf of many colors and he wore a rabbit skin cap and vest.
“Let us in, Roberto, we are quite wet.”
The colorful, sprightly old man opened the door wider and gave them both a toothless smile.
“Come in and sit by the fire. I will get Enrico. He is in the cellar fetching the wine and sasizza (sausage) for supper.”
“What did I tell you, Gino? We are in for a treat.”
Enrico, a small, elfish man with a contagious grin and pure white hair appeared at the cellar door with all the good things he intended to prepare for dinner filling his arms, his pockets bulging with jars of olives.
“Help,” he said in a voice that sounded as if he were about to drop something. Both young men sprang forward in frenzy to keep this from happening, but as fate would have it, the sasizza slipped out from under Enrico’s left arm and twists of onion and garlic slipped out from under his right arm. At the same time, he held tightly onto the jug of wine with both hands, as he certainly would not see his best wine spill over the floor.
“The wine is safe,” Enrico yelled.
“That’s great, Enrico,” Sergio said as he stooped over to retrieve the fallen sausages, while Gino picked up the onions and garlic.
“I’m glad to see you arrived here all right and must apologize that we did not meet you at the pier, especially in this weather. Two of my men had to go into Napoli to take care of some business that came up unexpectedly, but they will be back in time for supper. We were not quite sure what time you would arrive, but Tommaso would wait for you forever, he is so fond of you.”
He looked over toward Gino and said, “This must be Guido’s godson. Welcome to my humble home. I know your godfather well and I am obligated to him for the many favors he has shown me. I will do anything he asks of me and helping his godson is my great honor.”
Gino was flattered that this perfect stranger would take him in and help him to escape from his country to live in another in order to be safe.
“What can we do to help you with dinner, Enrico?” Sergio asked.
“Peel and chop the onions along with some garlic. That will get dinner moving in the right direction. Also, light another couple of lanterns.”
“I don’t like peeling onions, Sergio said wrinkling his nose. They make my eyes burn and water.”
“Here, give them to me,” and Gino grabbed the onions and garlic, walked over to the chopping table and in a wink he had them peeled, chopped and in the pan with olive oil. The most incredible odor filled the room. There is nothing to compare with the smell of onions and garlic sizzling in olive oil, except maybe the smell of frying sausages with fennel seeds.
Enrico added chopped fresh tomatoes, oregano, basil, a few anchovies, capers and olives to the pan with the onions and garlic and this marriage of flavors culminated in a tasty sauce for the pasta.
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