11. Is That All There Is?

                                                 IS THAT ALL THERE IS?

    

     Gladys stomped along the deck. As Nadine hurried to catch up, her idiotic put down of all things Greek echoed in her head. How was she supposed to know Buck’s wife was Greek? She wondered how long Buck had been a widower. What did Justin say her name was? Sophia! What a pretty name. Life can change so quickly, she thought. The riots of the day before suddenly came back to her. She relived the memory of Buck’s ham hands reaching down to her on the bus as she choked on the tear gas. She remembered being lifted to her feet like a doll. She could hear Buck saying something to her. She could hear herself wailing with fear. Suddenly she was thrown over his broad shoulders. She felt herself flop and sag against Buck’s body as he carried her out of the bus. Confusion and joy swirled around her. She smiled. She gasped. She felt lightheaded and grabbed onto the railing. “Gladys! Stop for a moment! I'm going to faint!”
     Gladys whirled around and glared at her. “Be my guest!”
     Nadine was shocked. “Aren’t you even going to come to the aid of your old friend?”
     “Where were you when that horrible homosexual assaulted me?”
     “Assaulted you?”, smiled Nadine. “He just suggested you go for a swim.”
     “And you find that amusing?”
     Now Nadine was flustered. “Oh, just listen to the two of us! You tell that young man that his affair was nothing more than a tryst. I refer to it as a peccadillo. You wonder if Cesaria has cancer. I insult the Greeks. I think these two old ladies ought to be ashamed of themselves.”
     Gladys sighed. Her haughty look sagged. Fear danced across her face. Resignation gelled her quivering wrinkles. Despair darkened her eyes. “What does this empty husk have left besides bitterness?” She leaned on the rail and let out a sigh. “I defend and support and prop up my family all my life and here I am alone in the middle of the Mediterranean with nothing more to offer the world than vitriol, acrimony and disdain.” A tear rolled out of her eye and caked the powder on her face.
     Nadine’s eyes opened wide. Then a maternal smile spread across her face. “Now, now Gladys. Where’s that joie de vivre? Where’s that devil may care? Come on now. There’s life in the old girl yet.”
     Gladys smiled a sad smile. Then something came back to her. “Nadine, do you remember when you and Frank and Tom and I were in San Francisco and saw Peggy Lee in the Venetian Room at the Fairmont? Wasn’t that a marvelous show?”
     Nadine put her fingers to her lips. “Good God, that was a long time ago!”
     Gladys shook her head. “In the seventies, I seem to remember.”
     Nadine stretched out a hand as if to ward of time itself. “The seventies! How many lives ago was that?”
     Gladys gave a start. “Too many and not enough, Nadine! “Oh, how I loved Peggy Lee! Is that all there is? Is that all there is?”
     Nadine stepped close to Gladys and took her hand. “If that all there is my friends.”
     Gladys rested her hand on Nadine’s waist and stepped into a gentle spin. “Then let’s keep dancing.” 
     Nadine placed her hand on Gladys’ shoulder, stepped back and the two Marquesas floated across the deck. “Let’s break out the booze and have a ball.”
     Gladys lifted her chin in the air and beamed. “If that’s all.”
     Nadine’s expression was ecstatic. “There is.”
     Nadine felt a gentle thrill as she drifted in circles with Gladys on an ocean of blissful memories.   “Oh, Gladys, remember the party afterwards?”
     “My goodness yes.”, said Gladys as she watched the sea flow into the deck and the deck flow back to the sea again. “It was an apartment on one of those impossibly steep hills. Whose was it?”
     Nadine looked up to the sky. “Friends of Tom’s. Rick and Stu, I think.”
     Gladys followed her gaze. “What a memory, Nadine. It was. I always wondered about those two, unmarried and all.”
     Nadine took her hand from Gladys’ shoulder and stepped back for a dainty dip.  “Everyone was dancing in the living room and the fog horns were bellowing and hooting out the window.”
     Gladys returned with a subtle flourish. “What an enchanting sound. We danced to Edith Piaf, I remember, and that drunk hussy, what was her name? She fell into the fireplace.”
     Nadine coasted back into Gladys’ arms. “Janet. That was her name. She was doing some sort of Isadora Duncan routine. The King Tut Tango!”
     “She was still flopping around in the fireplace without a clue to where she was. Her arms and legs were flapping around so wildly, Frank had to pull her out by her dress.”, smiled Gladys.
     Nadine took in a sudden quick breath. “And she got up and just kept dancing.”
     Gladys sighed. “And we just kept dancing.”
     Nadine looked into Gladys’ eyes. “To Edith Piaf.”
     Gladys smiled grandly. “And Peggy Lee.”
     Nadine released herself from Gladys, took a slow-motion spin and offered a curtsy. Gladys smiled and gave a slow bow.
     A quiet round of applause woke Gladys and Nadine from their reverie. The two of them blushed in front of a small group of passengers who had gathered around. Buck stepped forward as the crowd dispersed. “That was a real fine show, ladies.”
     Nadine gasped. “Oh Buck! I owe you an apology! I didn’t know your wife was - . I didn’t mean to -”
     “You don't have to say nothin’ after a performance like that. I ain’t seen nothin’ so sweet in years. You have warmed my cold heart.”
     Gladys opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before coming to herself. “You are very much the charmer. Will you have lunch with us?”
     “Oh you must!”, pleaded Nadine. “You must give me a chance to make up for my rudeness!”
     "That’s a couple of hours and a couple of drinks away, ladies. Anythin’ can happen before then."
     “Oh come on, big man.”, said Gladys. “Do a couple of old war horses a favor.”
     Nadine smiled at Gladys. “Promise us, Buck. Daniel and Lucia will be with us. Shall we say twelve o’clock?”
     “If that red head’s the bait, I’ll bite. I gotta go now.  I got a date with a glass of bourbon.” As Buck walked away, he mulled over the ghosts that had haunted him that morning. First, I get a break then they mau-mau me, he thought. Shit, if I’d have got on that ship to Gaza, they’d have taken a powder. He looked down and watched his feet fall one in front of the other. He relived sliding back the shower curtain that morning and seeing his wife standing before him. Please, Sophia, he thought. I can’t take you showin’ up like that unannounced. Please stick to my dreams where you belong.
     “Buck!”
     Buck stopped in his tracks. Justin was standing before him. Buck marveled at the flush of youth filling Justin’s face. How old was he, wondered Buck, twenty-four, twenty-five? Courtney was behind him leaning on a rail. Her smile was radiant. Her eyes glowed with affection. Buck smiled paternally at the two of them. Just out of college. Just espoused. So young to be burdened by the ugly shit of the world instead of sailin’ along full of all it has to offer. Behind her were Bob and Sally. Buck looked closely at the two of them for the first time. There was something wrong under their middle aged, upper middle-class skins, something rotten.
     Courtney walked up to Buck. “We’re having a cool conversation about the sixties. You know. Peace and Love. Sally was telling us that she was an anti-war protester and Bob said he was at Altamont, the west coast Woodstock.”
     Justin gave Buck a concerned look. “Were you in Vietnam?”
     Buck seemed taken off guard. “Uh, no. I got out of it.”
     “So did I!”, said Bob. “Believe it or not, I was too fat!”
     “Bob was a big boy before he got high blood pressure.”, said Sally. “I was telling Courtney that I was in a lot of demonstrations.” She turned back to Courtney. “Reagan was governor of California then. He was flying into the Santa Barbara airport to give a speech at the convention center. We all marched out and blocked the runway.”
     “That’s cool. I’m going to do some marching soon.”, said Courtney. “Did you keep him from landing?”
     “We formed a line across the tarmac.”, said Sally conspiratorially. “But then a row of police cars came down the runway at us and we had to break and run. We regrouped at the convention center. There was a very narrow entry into the parking lot and we all stood there asking all the people driving slowly in if they had eaten a Vietnamese baby for breakfast.” Sally broke into uncontrollable giggles.
     “Awesome.”, said Courtney.
     Justin frowned. “I don’t know about all that. When your country calls, you should answer.”
     Buck smiled. “You don’t know what you're talkin’ about, son, and I don’t see no medals on your chest.”
     “I thought about joining. We both did.”
     “We thought about joining because we were desperate and broke and unemployed and drowning in debt.”, admonished Courtney.
     “The music was a whole lot better back then.”, said Bob. “Of course, I guess it’s all a matter of where you’re coming from. Altamont was great. I was going with a real loose gal in college when she suggested I go with her. Some friends of hers picked me up in the early morning. They were smoking pot. That’s the first time I smelled it. God, what a stink. They had a VW van. Two of them were having sex in the back.” 
     “You never told me that!”, said Sally.
     “Sex, drugs and rock and roll.”, frowned Justin.
     “You got a problem with sex, drugs and rock and roll?”, asked Buck.
     Justin was flustered. “No. I mean I -”
     “Everybody fucks, boy and thank God for that.”, laughed Buck. “And everybody does drugs. You did too much last night yourself and just some more this mornin’.”
     “I was drinking.”, Justin protested. “I wasn’t doing - I mean I - OK, I get you. But I shouldn’t have been drinking. Jesus is enough for me.
     “That kinda Jesus is the worst drug there is.”, muttered Buck.
     “And please don’t tell me you don’t like music, young man.”, said Sally. “The music was fabulous back then: The Rolling Stones. Jefferson Airplane, Bob Dylan.”
     “Joan Baez.”, Bob continued. “Dionne Warwick, Petula Clark.”
     “Thank goodness the war ended, we came to our senses and we grew up.”, sighed Sally. “You can’t raise a family on sex, drugs and rock and roll!  Isn’t that right, Bob? We have the most wonderful family. My goodness, just thinking of them makes me homesick. We will have plenty of stories to tell them when we get back, won’t we Bob?”
     A sudden gust of wind blew a patch of fog out of nowhere. Sally grew irritated. “What is it with this sudden fog?”
     “There was a cold fog when you two came on deck this morning.”, said Courtney.
     “Well don’t go blaming us for the weather, now!”, laughed Sally.
     “I see clouds on the horizon.”, said Justin.
     “Well you needn’t worry about a thing, young man.”, said Sally. “The last thing we’ll see is a storm this time of year. That’s a fact because my Doctor told me so when he prescribed my sea sick patch.”
     “You have a sea sick patch?”, asked Courtney.
     “See for yourself!”, beamed Sally as she pulled back her hair and pointed to a patch behind her ear. “And it’s worked wonderfully. It’s just that my doctor couldn’t guarantee it would work in a storm but why are we even talking about it? It’s a wonderful day on the Mediterranean and we have nothing to look forward to but the sun and the next meal. Why don’t we all get together for lunch?”
     Bob leaned toward Courtney. “What do you say? Is it a date?”
     “Will you join us for lunch, Buck?”, asked Justin.
     “I got a date with a red head.”, said Buck.
     “A red head?”, tittered Sally. “Tell us about her.”
     “A red head and her boyfriend and a couple o’ catfish.”
     Sally’s eyes crossed with momentary confusion. “A couple of catfish? Oh, catfish! You mean Gladys and Nadine. Now Buck, that’s not very nice of you.”
     “But very accurate.”, said Bob. “It sounds like everyone will be there, and why not?”
     “Well yes!”, said Sally. “We went through those terrible riots together. We’re practically a family by now. What time are you planning on having lunch?”
     “High noon.”, sighed Buck.
     “Noon sounds cool.”, said Justin. “I’m in.”
     Buck shook his head. The last thing he wanted was another clown show. He looked at the horizon. There was a storm coming up. Things could get rough in the afternoon. What the hell, he thought. They won’t be much of a bother when they’re pukin’ their guts out. I better loosen up with a couple of snorts before the show and who better to have ‘em with than a bartender with a hot ass and a pair of tight tits.  “I gotta see a man about a horse. I'll see you at lunch.”, he mumbled to the four of them before turning and walking off. As he ambled along, he breathed in the sea air with relish. There was something so pure about the air in the Aegean. It seemed full of memories, clean memories. He didn’t have many clean memories. He noticed the door to the bar a few steps down the deck and the sweet taste of bourbon filled his mouth. He opened the door with a smile and stopped dead. Sophia stood in the half shadow smiling. He closed the door and shuddered. What the fuck is this, he thought. Is it all closin’ in again? He took a deep breath.
     “Hello, Buck!” It was John with a shy look on his face. “You shouldn’t have left the crowd so abruptly. Nadine was crestfallen. Do you have any idea how popular you are with our little mob of expats?”
     “Hiya, pal. No harm done. I can’t seem to get away from any of you. I caught them old buzzards waltzin’ along memory lane and the two kids gettin’ a history lesson about the sixties from Mr. and Mrs. hippy light.”
     “Frankly, I don’t blame you for leaving. Those two Marquesas can’t seem to keep their mouth shut about anything.” John rolled his eyes. “As opposed to the rest of us wall flowers. I’m sorry about your wife.”
     Buck’s eyebrows arched. “My wife?”
     “It’s none of my business.”, offered John. “But it seems we’re both widowers.”
     Buck looked at John for a moment then smiled. “Oh. I get you. I heard you talkin’ about it at Knossos. Yeah, I guess we are.”
     “You know, I’ve been thinking about your love for classical music.”, said John.
     “Classical music.?”, asked Buck.
     “Well everyone says you just adore Bach.” pushed John. “I was raised with classical music myself and my husband loved opera. Do you love opera?”
     Buck looked past John out to sea. “My wife took me to my first opera, La Boheme.”
     “That’s amazing!”, gasped John. “What a coincidence. Charlie took me to my first opera. Well, in a way he did. We met in a bar a few days before, but we didn’t go home together, if you can imagine that. We exchanged numbers and I called him. I never did that before. They always called me. It wasn’t the next night, but I did get tired of waiting. We had an incredible first night together. Have you ever held hands when you came together?”
     “Yup.”, said Buck quietly.
     “Anyway,”, continued John breathlessly. “he had season tickets to the opera, orchestra seats, and he asked me to join him the next night. He was called away on business that afternoon but he insisted I go anyway, for the two of us. It was Norma. Do you know Norma?”
     “Yup.”, said Buck with a smile.
     “Well I didn’t know anything about it.”, John continued. “Can you imagine sitting in orchestra seats for four tragic, incredibly romantic, heavenly lyrical hours, full of Druids, Romans, betrayal, rage, attempted infanticide, self-immolation, and all by yourself - alone wrapping it all around you and your new love sitting in the empty seat next to you? Sounds like a recipe for disaster, right? Crash and burn when reality sets in. But it didn’t happen. Each day got better. Each opera got better. Each aria got better for twenty -ive fucking years.” John had wandered to a place he didn’t intend to. His mouth hung open. Tears welled in his eyes. “The Norma, Adalgesa duet, I’ve never heard anything like it.”
     John had a lost look on his face. Buck patted him on the shoulder. “I know, buddy. I know. It’s a fuckin’ bitch. It gets its fingers around your neck and you can’t breathe. You curse the world and reach for a bottle but that ain’t gonna help too much. You just gotta hang in there and the pain ‘ll ease a bit after time. At least that’s what they tell me.” John took a deep breath and gripped the rail. Buck frowned. “Just remember kid, no matter who you are, you never walk alone.”
     John blinked away the tears. “I didn’t think you were the religious type.”
     “I ain’t.”, Buck grunted. “And I ain’t talkin’ about religion. I’m talkin’ about God and that’s a whole different enchilada.”
     Buck left John leaning against the rail staring at the sky. He felt the air pressure beginning to drop in the pit of his stomach. Maybe the storm would blow away the ghosts. His stomach hurt. Shit, he thought. That kid’s pain got to me. Shit, Sophia. I miss you. I miss you so much. As he rounded the deck, he swept his eyes across the few passengers stretched out on lounges taking in the rays. He could see the smoking island of Rhodes in the distance. At the very front of the deck, he noticed the figure of a delicate old woman leaning against the rail into the breeze. He sighed, walked up to Cesaria and rested his hands on the rail. “Eiste se megalo pono.”
     Cesaria looked up. “Yes, but the pain is subsiding.”
     Buck looked at the burning city. “I’m sorry about the riots. I’m sorry we couldn’t land in Rhodes. I’m sorry you couldn’t see your family.”
     Cesaria sighed. “My heart broke for a moment but we’ve had our hearts broken before and survived, haven’t we, Buck?”
     “Damn straight, your honor.”, smiled Buck.
     Cesaria took a deep breath. “I take refuge in music, Buck. Do you?”
     “I do, your honor.”
     Cesaria turned back into the wind. “You know Buck, I’m very fond of Tchaikovsky.”
     “Who ain’t, your honor?”
     Cesaria shivered. “I had cancer.”
     Buck sighed. “I done a lot of killin’ in Nam.”
     She ran her fingers through her hair. “I had a room on the fifth floor of the hospital. One night when I was very sick from the chemo and high on marijuana brownies to ease the pain, I was listening to the 1812 Overture when suddenly a pair of falcons landed on the ledge outside the window.”
     “My sergeant used to go through the pockets of the dead gooks after a firefight lookin’ for pictures of their women. He told me he’d make a little pile of ‘em and burn ‘em.”
     Cesaria patted Buck’s arm. “That’s not so good.”
     “Not so good but not so bad as what some of the grunts collected.”
     “Scalps?”
     “Scalps, ears, noses, fingers, dicks.”  
     Cesaria pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders and shuddered. “To plunder, to slaughter, to steal, these are things they misname empire; and where they make a wilderness, they call it empire. Tacitus said that two thousand years ago.”
    Buck shook his shoulders and groaned. “When you see a GI’s head liquidate in midair right next to you, everythin’ changes. If you was lucky, you didn’t know him too well. If you wasn’t, you did.”
    Cesaria looked at Buck and offered a comforting smile. “Do you remember how the prelude offers all the themes of the overture in such a wonderful way and then thunders up before wandering away?”
     “Wanderin’ away across the endless rollin’ steppes.”, said Buck quietly.
     Cesaria placed her hand on Buck’s. “I was listening to that part of the overture when the falcons settled down. Were you lucky? No retribution. No Scalps. No Mai Lai?”
     “Yer honor, Mai Lai was an exception.”
     “An exception of GIs gone mad?”
     “Of GI's got caught. Panicked young kids high as kites not knowin’ who’s gonna kill ‘em or who’s gonna fuck ‘em for a couple of bucks or both, full of hate for the thugs that put ‘em there, of disgust with themselves for bein’ helpless saps on their way to hell, them kids are gonna snap, snap all the time and they did.”
     “And were you one of those kids, Buck?”
     “I still am, your honor.”
     Cesaria’s fingers wrapped around one of Buck’s. “Close to ten years in Vietnam and what did we learn?”
     Buck shook his head. “The bastards that run our country learned to wait a generation so’s they could have a new batch of innocent flesh to smear across the battlefield. These kids today are facin’ the same thing I did. ‘Hearts and minds‘. LBJ couldn’t stop sayin’ it in Nam, and Dubya couldn’t stop sayin’ it in Iraq, and Obama can’t stop sayin’ it in Afghanistan. ‘Nation Buildin’.’ That’s another sack of shit they just can’t get enough of. It’s the same fuckin’ war over and over again. If I could get my hands around the neck of just one of them bastards, they’d go real slow.”
     Cesaria sighed and looked at the horizon. “And just as the theme wanders away, the overture erupts and swirls and pounds.”
     “But then there’s a calm.”
     Cesaria let loose of Buck’s finger. “Yes there is.”
     “And what did the falcons do?”
     Cesaria crossed her arms across her breasts. “They turned and looked at me.”
     “Before the cannons and the bells?”
     “Before the cannons and the bells.”
     “And then?”
     Cesaria smiled gloriously. “And then there was Tchaikovsky!”
     “Amen, your honor. Amen.”
     And the island of Rhodes boiled and burned as it shrunk into the horizon.