I got up and, making sure I had my key, shut the front door. I sat back down beside Tony and slipped him the envelope. “I’ll go across the street so I can have a clear view of Jimmy’s house,” I said. “If I see anything, I’ll whistle. So if you hear me whistle, don’t do anything. Just turn around and come back, acting normal, and if we can we’ll try again later.” I glanced up and down the street and saw a pappoú with a cane hobbling in our direction. “OK,” I said, getting up, “I’ll go across to the church and after this guy goes by, you go over to Jimmy’s place, but, remember, don’t run or anything. Act normal. Walk normally. And after you put the letter in, walk back down normally. Don’t run. And come back here. Don’t go where I am across the street. We’ll meet here.”
As the old man went by, I passed behind him and, waiting for a break in the traffic, ran across to the Black church. It was just a regular stone duplex and looked nothing like a church. I didn’t know then, and still don’t know now, what denomination it was, but I’d heard Greek parents disdainfully refer to the people who went there as evangelistés. I gathered that these evangelistés, despite their name, were somehow not real Christians, and maybe even a threat to Christianity. And I could see why. In the summer, when they kept the church’s front door open, it was amazing what you saw and heard inside. The masses were nothing like ours. Up front, there would be singers and guys with electric guitars and basses playing what sounded like rock music, and people would be dancing and clapping. People seemed to be having fun. Our masses were the opposite of fun. Our masses made you think fun was a sin. We were welcome in the Black church and occasionally some of us would go and sit in one of the back rows. Sometimes we’d hang out on the steps and some of the older Black men would talk to us and tell us about Jesus and the bible and why the things we believed were wrong. Once, an old man in a yellow bow tie said to Manny de Souza, “Rain’t no such place as limbo, boy,” and stupid Manny went and told his parents, and after that he wasn’t allowed to go into the church again.
I took a seat on one of the lower steps and examined the balconies and windows of Jimmy’s building. I looked up and down the street. Then I looked over at Tony and nodded to him. He walked casually to Jimmy’s house and went up the stairs. I couldn’t see the envelope in his hands. When he reached the top of the stairs, he stood against the door and peered through the window. Then he sidled over and looked through the Perreiras’ door. I was baffled at first but then realized it was a piece of subterfuge. I hadn’t seen what he’d done with the envelope, and was worried he’d spotted something and abandoned the plan.
When he turned and went down the stairs, I ran back across to my place.
“What happened?” I asked.
“What happened?”
“Where’s the envelope?”
“I put it in.”
“No way! Are you serious? I didn’t even see you.”
“That was the idea.”
“That was fantastic. I didn’t see anything. I couldn’t even see it in your hand.”
“I had it in here.” He lifted his shirt to reveal the waistband of his shorts.
“I couldn’t see you take it out. Or even put it through the door. You’re a virtuoso.”
We sat on the bottom steps and imagined together the various scenarios that might be unfolding in the Gatakis household that morning. Restless and jumpy, we wrestled on the sidewalk.
That was when Peter Liakos came out. His house was next to mine, and climbing over his bannister, he leapt the gap onto my staircase and sat down on one of the top steps and watched us. This was a typical move. I hated the way Peter had of insinuating himself into any scene and situation and trying to dominate it. He always had to make his presence felt, especially, it seemed, when he wasn’t wanted. It was one of the most annoying things about him.
Tony and I uncoupled and got to our feet. Instantly Peter leapt up and ran down the stairs and picked something off the sidewalk.
“Hey, that’s mine,” Tony shouted. It was the pack of mini-cards.
Peter turned away and started opening the pack.
“Give it back,” Tony said extending an arm.
“Whoa! Naked pictures! Does your mother know you have these?”
Peter shuffled through the cards while running and dodging Tony. He ran into the street and the two were separated by a parked car.
“I swear, you better give those back to me right now,” Tony shouted over the car’s hood. “I’ll show them to you later. Now’s not the time.”
“Why not?”
“Panayoti!” called out a woman’s voice.
Even in profile I could see the look of terror on Tony’s face as he looked up to see Dimitraki’s mother on her balcony. He turned back to Peter. “I’m fucking serious,” he hissed. “Give those back to me right now or I’ll fucken clobber you.”
Peter was not one to relent, but perhaps because of the presence of Dimitraki’s mother, or perhaps he knew Tony wasn’t kidding and could easily take him, he gave back the cards. He even had the sense to walk behind the car and slip them to Tony surreptitiously. Generally Peter was impervious to important life lessons, but the previous summer, during a baseball game, he’d pushed Tony too far with his taunts, and, having ended up with a bloody nose, he seemed at least to have learned that one.
“Panayoti, come here,” shouted Dimitraki’s mother. “I want to talk to you.”
Peter went and stood under the balcony while Tony came over and joined me by my stairs.
“Did you put something in our door today?” asked Dimitraki’s mother. Tony and I were obscured behind the tree in front of Peter’s house, but we could hear her clearly.
“No,” Peter replied.
“What is she saying?” asked Tony.
“Wait,” I said.
“Are you sure?” said Dimitraki’s mother.
“Yes.”
“What about those two?”
Peter glanced at us and I walked toward the curb so Dimitraki’s mother didn’t think we were trying to hide.
“What are you doing?” Tony whispered.
“Orísteh, Kýra Léni,” I shouted up to Dimitraki’s mother. “You want to talk to us?”
“Did you by any chance drop something through our door today?”
“No,” I said as innocently as I could.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“What about your friend?”
I actually turned to Tony and said, “Did you put anything in Jimmy’s door today?”
He grimaced.
“No,” I shouted up to Jimmy’s mother. “He says no.”
