Tales from an Unknown Corner

CHAPTER – 44: A Night on the Town (2)

Hagop came back with a large tray laden with small plates of appetizers. He pulled a chair over with his foot, balanced the tray between the back of the chair and his arm, and then began placing the plates on the table. They were followed by long narrow glasses, a carafe of Ouzo, bottles of water and a small metal bucket with ice.

I half filled our glasses with Ouzo, added some ice, and asked if they wanted water on top of it. Dana declined, preferring it straight, which came as a surprise, and Sarah and I took it mixed. I also filled the other glasses with water and ice, and distributed them. Whether you took Ouzo straight or not, most people took sips of water in between swallows of Ouzo, because it was a potent drink and although most foreigners thought of it as an aperitif, almost everybody else drank it throughout the meal. When you drink several glasses of the stuff, drinking it straight without any water was asking for trouble, so the second glass with water was customary; some drinkers tended to skip it, if they diluted their drinks enough.

I took my glass, now a milky white color, and raised it for a toast, but found myself at a loss for something elegant to say. Dana came to my rescue by offering, “To us. Friends and lovers.” It was what I had in mind, but had considered it too simple. I had forgotten that sometimes, something simple can be more beautiful and poignant than something overly sophisticated.

After taking a sip from our glasses, Sarah offered, “To you and Mitch. May your worst days be carefree and happy.”

For a few seconds, Dana gave an appraising look to Sarah, before her eyes found mine. I wasn’t sure if I read her correctly, but I countered with, “May our worse days be carefree and happy,” and Dana smiled fondly, giving a slight nod of approval to me. Although Sarah was surprised, she didn’t miss the significance of what happened. She smiled apologetically to Dana, but Dana waved it off, and asked her to do the honors and serve the first of the appetizers, receiving a dazzling smile. To tell the truth, I was quite pleased by the reactions of both girls, and the night was young—fortunately, at the time, we didn’t know what the night held in store for us!

After Sarah served the stuffed mussels, both girls got busy serving samples from the rest of the appetizers. Sarah was very curious about the topik, and after taking a small bite, her face lit up. Quickly she chewed, swallowed, and blurted out, “That was great. I didn’t expect what you described to taste like that.”

“Yes, cinnamon, raisins and onions are a strange mix, but...” Dana joined in, finishing her taste test.

We continued to sample the dishes with sips of Ouzo in between, talking about the different appetizers. Dana tasted some of the dishes for the first time, and happily found that she enjoyed them. She was familiar with the stuffed mussels, one of her favorites—as well as mine—and the artichokes. The mashed bean salad, something new for her, was a happy surprise.

“It’s not available here, but where I work, they have something similar, prepared with a puree of chick peas, sesame oil, and some other stuff. It’s quite good when drinking,” I said.

“I had that in Cairo. Humus, I think they call it... it’s pretty common in the Middle East,” Dana said.

“How did you like it?”

“Well... it tasted a bit bland except for the chili peppers, unlike this mashed bean salad. I think they put the chili to give it more taste,” she replied.

“Yeah, there would be local variations, but as you said, it’s quite a common dish in the countries of that region.”

Sarah changed the subject to my cousin-in-law and my second cousin.

“Let me see... I was 13 when she was born, and I saw her during my semester break that winter, when my parents took us to visit my grandparents. She was six or seven months old. She was a very quiet baby, with really big, big, dark eyes. She fascinated me. She would grab my finger, look at everything with wonder and curiosity, and make those baby sounds. I had never expected to find that a baby could capture my attention so completely. I had always felt that very young children were pests, at best. Kathy was also very much taken by her, but then, all women, regardless of their age, love babies, so that wasn’t too unusual. However, when she took her in her arms and tried to rock her to sleep, it didn’t work. Instead she just cooed and made all kinds of silly noises. When I finally took her in my arms she quickly fell asleep. At first, everybody thought she was tired, and it was a coincidence, but when the pattern repeated several times, it became apparent it wasn’t just a fluke.”

Sarah interrupted me, “I’m guessing Kathy wasn’t thrilled about that,” drawing an amused smile from Dana. When I nodded with a grin, both of them laughed.

I answered her with, “She wasn’t. Well, you know how we were, how we are, still. I enjoyed ribbing her, but I was careful not to hurt her feelings. I also remember my uncle coming to her defense, joking about it. He said he was going to have a big, a very big problem, if my second cousin already knew the difference between boys and girls at such an early age.”

At that, both girls let out another melodic laugh, tinkling like bells, warming my insides. “So, Kathy and I took turns baby-sitting, but it was obvious who her favorite was. I also remember a few occasions, when I was really tired from baby-sitting her, but still I didn’t avoid spending time with her; I enjoyed it too much.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“Well, one day my uncle had to take the baby with him, and we had to travel to a small village where they were shooting a short film. I was holding her in my arms when she fell asleep; I didn’t dare move. Didn’t want to wake her up. We had to drive down some dirt roads, and it was a bumpy ride. When we reached our destination some three hours later, my shoulders and neck were burning.”

Sarah interrupted me again. “Why did you do it? I mean, you could have put her on your lap and she would have fallen asleep just the same, wouldn’t she?”

“Nope. She was on my lap, and she was almost ready to cry. When I had her in my arms, she quieted down and then fell asleep. So, I didn’t dare put her back on my lap, and kept her in the crook of my arms. It’s funny, though. I never thought watching a sleeping baby could be something interesting, but with her... I found myself watching her the entire time. She looked so sweet and vulnerable... I didn’t know what it was at the time, but now, thinking back, I think it was the innocence.”

“So you like babies, children?” Dana asked.

Do I? Did I?

I was so taken by her question, I started thinking about it, and didn’t answer her, until she prompted me again. “Mitch?”

“Huh... Oh... sorry. I–I... I was thinking about it. I don’t know. I don’t think I’m crazy about babies or children in general. I think she was an exception.”

Dana raised an eyebrow, puzzled by my answer. “Exception?” she prompted.

“Yeah... I think it has a lot to do with my uncle. I liked him very much, and that baby was part of him—I know, I know... I wouldn’t realize something like that at that age. But I think, at some basic level, I was responding to his baby, because I liked him very much. I saw many other babies from other relatives, friends, and people I care about, but my second cousin had been something else, special, different,” I replied.

“But surely, you would feel different about your own child, wouldn’t you?” Sarah joined in to the discussion.

Now, that’s a loaded question!

Would I? Did I want children of my own? Once, I wan—

And now... do I want children?

Nope. Sometimes, I don’t like what I am. And I don’t want... I don’t want any part of myself! And what could I possibly give a baby... a child? Love? Do I have any love left in me to—

I was surprised with the way my thoughts took such an unexpected and dark turn. Despite my misgivings my thoughts kept returning to the past, while I tried to formulate an answer for Sarah.

“To tell the truth, I don’t know. I never thought about it in depth,” I temporized. “My life isn’t suited for raising children, I know as much. My colleague, Tim, has two children, one of them a year old. He missed when the baby was born, and half the time he’s away from his family. From what he has told me, it’s really tough on the kids and the family,” I said, and as I continued the words seemed to come easily. “And parenting is a huge responsibility. When I look at my parents, I can’t help but feel what an impossible task they took on, considering what I know now. The world is not what it used to be, things are changing rapidly... and not for the good most of the time. I’m not sure if I would want to bring something as innocent as a baby to grow up in this mad fray.”

Even as I said this, I was busy gathering impressions from my own childhood and the memories from later parts of my life, reflecting on how the children of relatives, and friends grew up. However, my mind was mostly busy with how I felt about having a child. A distant memory that I thought I had buried in the deepest corner of my mind was awakened—I guess it hadn’t been so deeply buried after all! I remembered why only once in my life, I had considered a child—a daughter—from Rei... After returning home that summer, one night, I woke up in the middle of a particularly sweet dream. It had been a rare instance, and something that never repeated again. Unlike my recurring dreams that replayed the things we shared and did, in this one, I was in the water by the beach, with my daughter cuddled in my arms. We played in the water, with her bubbling with joy and making happy noises. When I woke up, I ached for her, because it had been so real. Then the shocking realization set in. I sat for hours going over the dream, and never wrote a word of it in my diary, because I had been too worked up trying to figure out the ‘why.’ I never did manage to find any answers, except a faint suspicion that I missed Rei terribly. Perhaps it had been a subconscious response: a baby, a daughter would look so much like her mother, and I would get to keep a part of Rei with me, in flesh and blood.

I hadn’t noticed the table grow quiet when I stopped speaking. I was still out, busy gathering wool. When my eyes caught Sarah’s face, I came to my senses, and turned to check on Dana. Both girls had unreadable expressions on their faces.

“Did I... did I say something wrong?” I asked hesitantly.

“No, you didn’t,” Dana replied, patting my arm. Taking my hand in hers, she said, “I think you’re looking at it from a rather pessimistic point of view... thinking about what could go wrong. You’re still young, and maybe not ready for such a responsibility, but when the time comes, I think you’ll change your mind.”

“Maybe... As you said, it’s something for later,” I replied quietly, and tried to steer my thoughts away.

Instead of continuing on that subject, Dana moved the discussion back to my ex-cousin-in-law. “Was he really that close to you?”

I lit a cigarette to gain time, and compose myself, before answering her. “Yes. I still think of him as an uncle rather than a cousin-in-law. He’s a quiet man, gentle and patient, but witty, with a dry sense of humor and a sharp tongue. I guess he had to be... in his line of work.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s a studio chief, sound engineer, and is also involved in films and some other stuff. Because of his work, he’s in constant contact with actors, actresses, singers, and their associates. Most of them—I don’t know how to say it—hide behind facades, play-acting? Some were jealous, some magnanimous, and some seemed to buy into their own image. There were a few very unpleasant ones, as well as really down to earth and decent ones, but all of them had sharp tongues. Some used it as a defense mechanism, and some used it in good-natured ribbing. I don’t want to think about those who used their wit and tongue to injure others or to win an argument and further their own interests. His colleagues were also a lively bunch. I guess it goes with the territory. The first time I came face to face with his world and the people in it, it had been a shock. I had never experienced anything like that before.” I turned to Sarah, and said, “You know how shy I was, so you can probably imagine.”

She nodded in understanding. “How did they treat you?” she asked.

“Well, for most of them I was a fly on the wall. I was quite young at the time, so they didn’t notice me—much—for which I was grateful. I’d rather watch what was going on than participate under the circumstances. I could be quite inconspicuous. I tell you, at that age, I had it down to an art-form,” I flashed a self-deprecating smile. “But still, a few did take notice of me, and were friendly, but I think they were just being polite. There had been one or two that were really nice, genuinely interested in me, but I was so shy, I couldn’t respond to them. Even when they were very busy and stressed, they would find time to say a few words to me or offer an apology for not spending time with me. I think they were genuine, and not going through the motions. I saw them treat everybody around them similarly. Nobody was getting preferential, or different treatment.”

“Did you discuss things with your uncle?” Dana asked, preferring to use my word of choice for my ex-cousin-in-law when I was referring to him.

“Like what?”

“About the differences between people he worked with, and the things you had noticed...” she elaborated.

“Yeah. We did. He noticed most of it himself. He was willing to talk to me as if I were an adult, and he expected me to ask questions if I didn’t understand something. I realized why he was treating me the way he did, getting me to ask him to clarify what he meant when I had problems grasping something. I learned a lot from him, being in his world, meeting those people. It’s a world apart in some ways, but at the end of the day, each of them was no different from anyone else with their own faults and weaknesses, good and bad. The only difference was that they were public figures, to varying degrees.”

“It must have been interesting,” Dana noted.

“It sure was. My uncle saw I was very shy, and he tried to draw me out. He introduced me to some beautiful young singers and actresses. To tell the truth, I was overwhelmed seeing them up close like that, and it didn’t help that I’ve always been shy around the opposite sex. So being around some of the beautiful and relatively famous ones made it that much worse. Over time, I got used to it, since it was a daily occurrence to see them in the studio. I know I didn’t make a fool of myself, but unless somebody spoke to me or asked a question I kept my mouth shut.”

“What about when you were older, like 15, 16?” Dana asked.

“Oh God! That was... It was both good and bad. My hormones were raging at the time, but I was so shy. And to my horror, some of the same women really took an interest, and worse, they took it upon themselves to tease me or flirt with me, remembering how shy I was, and how I blushed. It’s not as bad when you’re just 13 or 14, but boy, when you are 15 or 16... I had picked up some witty repartees and come backs from observing my uncle and his friends, so after a while I was able to respond to some degree, but I never did manage to overcome my inherent shyness. To tell you the truth, I enjoyed the attention. Let’s face it, at times, it was a young boy’s wet dream come true... almost!”

Sarah and Dana laughed at that last remark.

“You seem to do quite well. You’re not a slouch when it comes to teasing us or returning our quips,” Sarah said.

“If you haven’t noticed I’m a bit older, now. You remember how I was when I was 15 or 16,” I reminded her.

“Oh, yes, you’ve grown up. In so many ways,” she teased back, licking her lips suggestively, drawing an amused laugh from Dana.

Laughing at her teasing, I said, “Exactly. So, you can guess how I would have responded to your quip back then. Thank you for making my point.”

“It seems you’ve picked up quite a bit from your uncle,” Dana commented.

“Well... kind of. But I was much more comfortable around older people, even when I was 13–14; that was something my uncle picked up on very quickly. It surprised him a lot.”

“Why was he surprised?” Dana asked.

“I’m not sure. I think he thought I would relate to younger people, or be bored with older people, but when he saw me relax and get over my shyness among his older friends he included me in outings more often. Later he told me how proud he was of the way I conducted myself, which embarrassed me no end. I still remember it. I was 14, and he was doing the sound engineering on a play. After the rehearsal, he took me out to dinner with a few of the actors. Despite the age difference and mixed company, I was included in the conversation. I thought I managed to hold my end of it, but I wasn’t sure. Later, he told me he was proud of me. He knew I was a bookworm, and had many interests, so I guess that helped. When similar dinners occurred with increasing frequency over time, I realized he really enjoyed my company. Whenever I visited him, we went out, most of the time with some artists.”

“That’s really kind of him to take such an interest in a young person,” Dana said. “Now, I can understand why you feel so close to him.”

I smiled instead of answering.

“Do you mind if I ask why you feel the way you do about your cousin?” she asked.

“No, I don’t mind. It’s... it’s mostly the way she treated me. There was a world of difference between him and her. It’s difficult to explain,” I said. I thought about how to answer her question, when I came across a memory of an incident, something very typical. Seeing me mulling something in my mind, Dana waited patiently. “I think the best example was when I was 16. They had a friend visiting them, and we all dressed up and went out for dinner at a nightclub. Afterwards we walked into the bar for a drink. My uncle inquired what everyone wanted, and when it was my turn, I asked for cognac. I didn’t want to drink Coke or orange juice, and since nobody was drinking wine, I didn’t want to ask for that. After all, I was 16, an adult in my opinion, and I wanted to establish it symbolically, right? My cousin knew both Kathy and I tried all kinds of alcohol at home, and were often allowed some when we went out with the family or relatives. She was going to object, but my uncle nipped it at the bud; he said, ‘Cognac, it is,’ without allowing any further discussion on the subject—”

“So, your cousin was a bit concerned,” Dana interrupted me.

“Nope. Not really. I told you she knew about our family, and what we were allowed. You’ll understand in a second. So, the drinks came, mine in a goblet. When I held the goblet the proper way, her eyebrow went up in surprise. Then as if I had done it a thousand times, I let the cognac swirl in the glass with deft little moves, and inhaled the aroma like a connoisseur before taking a small sip, savoring its taste. That earned me another raised eyebrow. I was getting really irritated by her reaction. It was as if I had suddenly developed antlers or something. I knew what it was though. She still thought I was a child, and shouldn’t know such things. Anyway, I put one hand in my jacket pocket, leaned against the bar, then struck a nonchalant pose, swirling the drink in the glass, and scanning the room, totally relaxed as if I was born into the scene. Nothing could be further from the truth; my insides were churning despite the show I was putting on.” I grinned wryly, reliving the peculiar uneasiness and anxiety I had had at the time.

I saw Dana flash me an understanding smile, and realized she knew what I was feeling... On second thought, something in her eyes told me, she knew exactly what I was feeling... how I was reliving that moment, right this second. She had seen it before, and now, she gave me a sympathetic look. She started to reach for my hand to comfort me, but when I smiled, she settled back in her chair.

“Anyway... to get back to the story... She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She moved in closer and blurted, ‘where did you learn all that?’ It was embarrassing as hell. I mean... she hadn’t been as quiet as she wanted to be. I think she made a fool of herself more than embarrassing me. Now, you probably can guess I did the posing on purpose. Yes, I did. After seeing her watching me like a hawk, and the raised eyebrow and all. I was very annoyed by her attitude, and I had been baiting her.”

By the time, I finished relating the story, Dana’s amused expression gave way to chuckles, perhaps also relating to what I felt at the time. When she collected herself, she said, “Yes, she made a fool of herself. So, what you’re saying is she was more concerned that you would embarrass her with her friends, because you were too young to know things like that?”

“That’s exactly what it was. She was a snob. Always concerned about appearances, trying to give an impeccable impression, whether it’s her image or the image of people she’s being seen with. She could always find something to criticize in other people. And she thought I was a child, and treated me like one. She should have known better. On the other hand, my uncle is a down to earth character. He’s not concerned about being embarrassed, especially among his friends. Why should he? They are his friends, and friends are supposed to be understanding, right? And he trusted me. Compared to him, she knew more about how we were raised, and also, she knew about the dinners I attended with my uncle’s crowd. She should have considered all that instead of worrying about whether or not I would embarrass her. Besides all that, why should I know such things or be expected to know such things at that age?”

She nodded in understanding, and patted my hand because she could see how I was getting a bit worked up, even after all these years, as I recalled the various incidents. Then she asked, “How did you know?”

“You mean the goblet, and other stuff? Well... my parents taught me some of the things at a very early age, so I wasn’t completely a stranger to the etiquette, and I learned the rest by observing other people. Mom might have shown me how to hold the goblet, but the pose I assumed was straight out of movies... you know the old, classic saloon movies and similar... where people are dressed in tuxedos, attending parties, looking all elegant, and such. Take Cary Grant or David Niven in such a setting, and you know what I mean. They are perfect examples,” I replied.

At my last comment, her chuckle turned into a full blown tinkling laughter, and Sarah joined her as well. Collecting herself, she leaned in and kissed my neck. “You are so endearing sometimes... the way you described what you did, and now the examples of Cary Grant and David Niven...” She let out another laugh full of merriment. “You must have been quite a precocious teenager. I could almost picture how you must have looked then. I wish I had been there. And I can understand how you must have felt, Mitch. She wasn’t being nice to you.”

“Ummm... I think Kathy is the precocious one in the family. I’m the quiet one; in fact, on more than one occassion I heard Kathy say that when she was talking about me to someone.” I flashed a pointed look at Sarah. I didn’t really think she would remember the occasions, especially one particular occasion—Kathy’s thirteenth birthday, when both girls had locked themselves in Kathy’s bedroom. The reason the memory stuck with me was, that day I made a pest of myself, after the girls had started teasing me, especially, Sarah. They kept whispering back and forth, and letting me hear only parts of their conversation designed to let me know I was the subject of their talk. Eventually Mom asked me to confine myself to my bedroom, and then she asked Kathy to unlock her bedroom door. Kathy got away with breaking rules, several of them, because it was her birthday. Later, though, Mom would give her a stern lecture about proper behavior: her conduct and abuse of ‘perceived’ birthday privileges! [I have to say this: I think Mom would have made a benevolent Dictator if she ever went into politics! She ran a tight ship.]

Sarah stuck out her tongue at me like a little girl, and received chuckles from Dana and I for her trouble.

“What did Kathy say?” Dana interjected curiously—or perhaps she recognized an opportunity to let Sarah even the score?

“Actually, it was something different. Mitch doesn’t even know it,” Sarah replied and flashed me a teasing grin.

I ignored her. However, Dana leaned over the table, and looked at her expectantly. After a slight hesitation and a quick glance at me, Sarah leaned forward to get close to Dana, and whispered, “She said... ‘still waters run deep!’”

Although she whispered it, I heard it without any effort on my side. How? Because she wanted me to hear it; it was part of the whole theatrical production being put on for my benefit. Otherwise, what would be the point, right?

Interestingly, the curtains closed down too quickly, because Dana seemed frozen for a short while, before she sat back—slowly, as if contemplating something. She ventured quick glances at me and Sarah a few times, but otherwise seemed preoccupied.

“Dana?” Sarah prompted as the silence stretched.

When Dana turned her attention to her, Sarah asked, “What is it?”

“Huh? Oh... nothing... I... I was wondering about Kathy. When did you say this happened?”

“Oh, I don’t know... when she was fourteen or something?” Sarah answered. “Why?”

“I... Well... She was too young to know... or was she?” Dana responded, part of her mind still busy.

“I don’t know about that, but let me tell you something. Kathy is the precocious one in the family, and by the time she and Sarah turned... what, thirteen, fourteen... they were going on to forty!” I commented.

That broke the strange spell that seemed to settle around the table, and we all had a good laugh. Then, Dana asked, “Where were we?”

“Umm... I was telling you about my adventures with my oh-so-nice cousin,” I answered.

“Yes, you were. Please do go on.”

“Nothing else to tell, really... except that she wasn’t nice,” I said and took a long pause to think about what I wanted to say next. “But then she wasn’t nice to most people. I guess, it’s still a sore point with me. I mean... when I got older, she still kept at her irritating behavior... as patronizing as she had ever been before. Perhaps because she’s much older than I am, or maybe because I kept baiting her; I don’t know. After I form an opinion about someone it’s hard for me to change... I react.” With a resigned sigh, I added, “But, she’s family.”

“I understand. We can choose our friends, but family is family,” Dana said.

“Unfortunate, but too true,” Sarah agreed with a sympathetic expression on her face, and her voice carried a... I couldn’t read her tone. I gave her an inquiring look, but she just smiled and waved it away with a small shake of her head.

Just then a movement by the door caught my eye. I saw a middle-aged man who looked familiar walk in. After exchanging quick greetings with a few patrons, he took a seat at a small table by the window, a few tables away from us, facing in our direction. I finally recognized him. He had been a frequent visitor in the studio doing a lot of dubbing work, from commercials to foreign movies. When the work continued to later hours, we would go out for dinner in one of the restaurants or a tavern by the shore, sometimes this one.

“Somebody you know?” Sarah asked, noticing my attention, and turned to look over her shoulder to check out the new arrival.

“I was remembering some good times,” I said. Nodding in the direction of the new arrival—Sarah took another quick glance over her shoulder, following my gaze—I asked, “Do you recognize him?”

“I’m not sure. He looks familiar, but...”

“You’ll probably recognize his voice though. He’s an actor, started in the theatre and moved to the wide screen. He took a few guest roles in serials, and TV movies also, but mostly he’s known as a very good supporting actor. Personally, I think he’s better than some well-known names in the business. He was one of the frequent faces in the studio, doing a lot of sound work, and he’s a very nice guy. One of the rare ones, and a genuine old-timer, a gentleman of the older generation.”

“One of his movies was on TV a few nights ago,” Dana said.

“Which one?” I asked. I hadn’t watched much TV lately, so I must have missed it.

“Umm... A Broken Affair... or something like that. The one where he plays a slightly alcoholic, middle-aged teacher in a small coastal town,” she replied.

“That one? Damn! Oh, sorry! I missed it. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Really? I thought it was a bit... moody!”

“No, it’s not. The film wasn’t about the heart-wrenching love affair between the lead characters. It was more about the small town values, and how things could go wrong between two people from different walks of life. He,” I said, nodding inconspicuously in the direction of the actor, “was playing the supporting role.”

“Yes, he was, but he stole the show. He was better than the lead actor,” Dana countered.

“He did, didn’t he?” I found myself saying, slightly distracted by her comment, as my mind went over the story, revisiting familiar scenes, and especially the one scene where he sat in the bath tub, and...

“Why did you like it?” Dana asked, pulling me from my short trip.

“Huh... Well... I guess, because I knew him before he made the movie. Also, it was shot in a location I’m very much familiar with.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My parents have a summer flat some fifteen miles outside that town. It was interesting to see the familiar scenery in the movie: the restaurants, the hotels, the beaches, the olive oil factories, the shops and the rest. After watching it, those familiar places took on a different appeal. Then, there was the sideline story, the middle-aged teacher spending his last few working years in a quiet small town.”

“There’s more to it than that, though, isn’t there?” Dana insisted.

“Well, yes. The small town life, the customs, the traditions, and how the old values clash with new. I thought that was fascinating,” I replied.

“Yes, it was. I never thought of the film in those terms, and especially with him committing suicide... But, you’re right. It was quite poignant in terms of how things are changing, the social structure, the contrast between old and new... and at what cost!” Dana said.

“That’s an interesting comment,” I said, unable to hide my surprise.

“Mitch, because we live in big cities, and in very cosmopolitan environments, we might think we miss the changes. However, I can see how it is changing because I see the outside as well. I haven’t been to towns that small, so I didn’t know. I could imagine how it was... how it is. I guess I knew what I was watching, but didn’t consciously put it into the exact terms, until you made that comment. You forget that I’m still a bit of an outsider.”

“Yeah. I forgot, but it’s because you’re not an outsider,” I replied, quickly, as if almost admonishing her.

Sarah objected, as well. “You’re not an outsider, Dana. You might be Welsh, but you’re only half-Welsh.”

“Thank you, both of you,” she said, before pausing. Her eyes were fastened on me, and she seemed like she had something on her mind, but was reluctant to come out with it. When I raised an eyebrow, she said, “Talking about the changes and clashes... is there a particular reason for your interest in that movie, and its lessons?”

“I guess... There are many traditions and customs; some are good, but I could do without the rest of them, actually... without the most of them.” I gave a small grin, almost embarrassed at my confession.

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“For one thing, I don’t like the paternalistic attitude. It’s presumptuous, and patronizing. More than that, I don’t care for the social structure, because it is a relic of feudal times... a patriarchy. Contrary to what many people might believe, and I’m including almost all of the guys who would opt for a patriarchal society, it has a negative effect on the lives of everybody, regardless of gender. Sure, the women take the brunt of it, but it affects everybody. It’s more pronounced in the rural areas than in the big cities, but still, I see it in one form or another. The constant influx of people from small villages to big cities doesn’t help, but rather worsens the situation. When I think about it, it makes me cringe. It’s another form of oppression. I think we all know nothing good ever comes from oppression in whatever form, whether it’s political systems, religious systems, or social systems. Law of physics: action, reaction. That movie and quite a few others tell the story. Sometimes... sometimes I feel like an outsider, when I hear or see what people do and act the way they do. Most of them base their behavior on some kind of dogma, or on conventions, practices that are so old and so wrong—proven wrong, a long time ago—that no rational mind should blindly accept; at least, they should question the validity. A child would, and yet...”

Suddenly I stopped, and you could hear a pin drop; it was that quiet. I wanted to stop, because I felt like I was on a soap box, lecturing. However, the silence was short-lived.

“Please, do go on, Mitch,” Dana said, and Sarah repeated the same request.

“Uhh... I better not.”

“Why? I’d like to hear it,” Dana insisted.

“It’s not the right occasion,” I temporized, trying to evade it.

“I think it is the right occasion. Isn’t it what people do at dinners like this? Discuss politics, religion, the current events, or get into philosophical discussions, while enjoying a glass of Ouzo?” Dana asked. Then flashing me a wry grin, she added, “I thought it was... it is the custom!”

Both Sarah and I laughed at her last quip. Dana had been so right!

“Yes, it is. That’s what we do. Solve the problems of the people, then move on to solving the problems of the society, the country, and eventually the problems of the world. The more you drink, the better you think, and you can tackle more difficult challenges, but... we’re on our first glass, not even finished it yet,” I returned, eliciting a laugh, which I joined also. “And the night is young,” I added as an afterthought, when the laughter died.

“Then let’s drink up,” Dana retorted, raising her glass, and after we all clinked our glasses, she took a hefty sip, following it with a sip of water to chase it.

“And you consider yourself an outsider,” I said, following it with a tsk–tsk–tsk.

“All right! I’m not an outsider,” she surrendered, but hastily added, “and you’re not going to evade it. Come on, tell us.”

“Well... there’s not much to tell. It’s something that disturbs me. That’s one of the reasons I liked that movie, because it’s there to see. When I was young, I was at odds with people, my teachers, classmates, and I had only a few friends. It wasn’t bad. What really irked me was the peer pressure, the mob mentality. I was different, and that caused problems. But in general, that’s the problem with any group from a handful to the larger groupings of society; if the group is inclined to accept things as they are. ‘Don’t rock the boat!’ Well, sometimes the fu— I mean... the darn boat needs to be rocked, because it already has lots of holes, and is taking in water. Anyway... it’s one of those things that bother me,” I said, trying to close the subject.

“OK. We’ll leave it at that for the time being. As you said, the night is young, and we need more fuel,” Dana concluded, seeing that I didn’t want to continue. “Let’s get back to the movie. What did you make of the suicide?”

“It might have given the film a darker atmosphere, but I think it was a necessary part of the story. On the surface, it’s still a love story, despite the social implications. Within the context of what was going on in his own life, and the love affair between the leading characters, I think that suicide was a necessary element. The point was, he was tired of living. It wasn’t because of the short-lived affair he got into, which was mostly platonic. It was bound to fail, more so than the love affair between the lead characters. I think he was just tired of seeing lives destroyed, and the ugliness that pervaded in almost everything,” I said.

“Do you really think so?” Dana asked, giving me a long look; I couldn’t read the expression on her face.

“Yeah. I saw the movie some 8–9 years ago, and that was the impression I had then.” With a teasing smile, I said, “But, we can always ask him.” Nodding in his direction, I added, “He’s here.”

Dana laughed at my quip, and retorted, “I think you’ve already asked him that, since you seem to know him.”

“Yeah, I did,” I replied with a wry grin. “But he didn’t really give me an answer. He told me it was what the audience thought it was. Even though I insisted, he never gave me a straight answer. Later, I realized, he had already given me the true answer.”

“Yes, he had,” Dana concurred. “You know, this is going to sound strange, but I always liked Sean Connery. Now, I remember that movie, and his voice,” she said, and shot a quick glance in his direction, before continuing. “I think he’s in a class of his own. He’s a good actor, and that voice... I’m not surprised he would get so much sound work.”

Sarah was listening to our conversation, but it was obvious she hadn’t seen the movie, and wasn’t familiar with his work. “Does he really have that good a voice?” she asked curiously.

“Yes, Sarah. Mind you, he’s a very good actor, and his voice is just icing on the cake. Think of a deep, male voice, rich in timber, something like Barry White, but softened a little bit. Imagine the kind of voice that would make your insides tingle and your soul reverberate, and when you hear him, you’ll recognize it... unless of course, you turn into a puddle long before that,” Dana quipped.

“Are you serious?” Sarah blurted.

Dana nodded, before she directed her gaze back to the subject of our conversation who was sitting a few tables away from us, giving an appraising look. “He’s quite a good looking man,” she said with a critical tone. “How old is he?”

“I’m not sure. Late 40s, early 50s. I know he’s older than my uncle, and my uncle is in his early 40s now,” I replied.

I was a bit surprised by Dana’s reaction. I knew he was a very good-looking man, and with that voice and his down to earth style, he received a lot of attention from women. On the few occasions I had observed him, he had been a gentleman, treating them with respect, unlike the other people who took advantage of their fame and such opportunities.

She leaned over and kissed me, before she said, “Don’t worry. You’re not being replaced.”

I laughed at her quip. I wasn’t worried. “You know, I could do worse than losing you to someone like him,” I returned.

Now, it was her turn to be surprised. “You really think so?”

“As I said before, he’s of the old school, with the gentle and more refined manners of my parents’ and older generation. When I was visiting my uncle, he was a regular. I never saw him act like some others do, when an opportunity presented itself, despite the interest from various women, especially when they heard his voice. Oh, yes, if he’s interested, I think he’s quite capable of winning them over, but I never heard any gossip, or saw his name in the tabloids.”

She leaned and kissed my neck before she softly said, “I like old war horses, but also young but mature ones... like you. I think there’s probably an old war horse hidden inside you, in some ways.” Before I had a chance to get embarrassed at her words, she picked up her glass and offered a toast, while smiling at me with a mischievous expression. “To old war horses and young men.”

Sarah and I joined in her toast, and then Sarah reached for her purse, and took out a small mirror. Although she looked like she was checking her makeup, I realized she was checking him out discreetly, because he was seated behind her. When she finished, she put her mirror into her purse, and seeing us watching her, she shrugged nonchalantly, and said, “I was curious, after both of your remarks. He’s a good looking man, especially for his age, but a bit too old for me.”

Just then, Hagop came by to see if everything was to our satisfaction. Sarah asked about the topik, and commented on some of the other dishes, adding how much she liked them. Then Dana joined in with her praise. Of course, he was all smiles. Seeing us making some progress with the appetizers, he told us he would bring the cheese rolls in a short while, and asked if we would like some calamari and fried mussels with a special sauce—walnut and garlic in a puree, mixed with beer—to which we all agreed. I asked if he had octopus salad, and when he told me he had some, I added a plate of octopus salad to our order.

“Octopus?” Dana asked, after he left to take care of our order.

“It’s not like what you imagine. If you like grilled calamari, instead of the deep fried ones like onion rings, then you’ll probably like it. The meat is like that, and sometimes more tender, when prepared properly. It’s white meat and quite tasty. It takes a long time to tenderize and prepare. They beat it on a smooth stone and then boil it for several hours, slowly, so that you don’t end up chewing something like India rubber. My favorite is the salad, but I also like the mixed casserole—with shrimp, vegetables and melted cheddar cheese topping.”

Dana let out a cheery laugh, and when she collected herself, she said, “I’m sorry, Mitch. I just realized I forgot what Kathy told me. You not only enjoy food, but also enjoy cooking. I was wondering about how you describe each dish, at times, with such relish, and... and I realized I had forgotten how much you enjoy cooking. That salmon you prepared at Kathy’s was something.”

I grinned like a kid, and Sarah laughed at my response. “I think all cooks are alike, whether professionals or amateurs. They love to be praised,” she said.

“Yes, they do. If you haven’t experienced his cooking, you’re missing something. He’s very good,” Dana said.

“I know. It’s hard to find a good guy these days,” she said. Then, she started going over a list: “Good in the kitchen, good at cleaning...” By the time she was down to “good looking, and good at warming a bed,” I knew I was being teased. In the meantime, Dana was quietly laughing at Sarah and at my reaction.

“You know what they say about paybacks, Sarah,” I retorted, when she finished her list.

“I don’t like bitches, Mitch,” she deadpanned. “I like men. And I told you what kind of men. Good looking, good at warming a bed...” she continued repeating her list, but couldn’t continue for too long, and cracked up, with Dana following her.

“Very well said, Sarah,” Dana said raising her glass in a toast to her, while I tried to keep a straight face.

We continued talking and drinking, sampling the dishes until we saw Siran approaching with a small tray, bringing the warm appetizers.

* * * * *