Sam and Harry decided they would do it; they'd go to Italy to see the old country for themselves. The two wanted to walk the streets their relatives walked, learn about their lives and eat the food of Calabria.

Sam moaned, "I'm tired of hearing about Italy. I want to go there. Maybe even meet a ragazza (sweet girl) or two."

"Me too," Harry grinned, "I want to meet my family there. I want to see how my father lived and worked in Vinco.

"My pa was a fisherman," Sam said. "But, he hurt his back and went to work in his Uncle Julio's olive oil and grocery business. My uncle was an ambitious guy, he needed someone to go to America as his representative so he could export his olive oil. My pa said he would do it."

"So that's how your father got here?"

"Yeah, Uncle Julio told him to go to my cousin, Bernardo's house in Chicago. Bernardo moved here in 1926. However, when my pa got to Bernardo's, he got bad news. Bernardo told him that he got a letter from Julio's wife that said Uncle Julio had disappeared. Bernardo said that the Black Hand wanted in on the olive oil deal, but Uncle Julio refused. Bernardo said it might not be healthy for Pa to go back to Italy."

"Wow, scary stuff, huh?"

"Yeah. Lucky Uncle Julio gave Pa four hundred bucks to start the import business. Pa decided to stay, which was a good thing for me and my sister."

"Right. Not sure I'd want to live there," Harry said.

"Pa told me he built a fruit and vegetable cart; Bernardo hooked him up with some guy at Water Street. After a year, he had enough to rent a small store and expanded to groceries. Pa has a nice way with people. They like him. The store did good right away, after a couple of years, he started the bakery. He's not rolling in dough, but he is doing all right."

"What about your pa?" Sam asked.

"Oh, you know, he hasn't been lucky. My pa doesn't talk much. All I know his family in Italy is poor. When he was ten, he worked as a shepherd; he did that job until he got drafted into the army. While he was in the army, his brother ran away to America. When Pa's time ended, the town mayor told him he had to serve his brother's time too. That's why he took off to America. He worked as a miner, for a time, in Pennsylvania, but couldn't stand it, so he rode the rails to Chicago. His brother told him the Edison Company needed men to dig trenches for their wires. He's been breaking his back for them ever since."

Harry hesitated, wondering if he should tell Sam his main reason for wanting to go to Italy. Then he blurted, "To be honest, Sam, I need to find out this secret about my pa."

"Secret? What secret?"

Harry's face flushed as he began to tell Sam what he'd overheard from his Aunt Immaculata one Sunday afternoon.

Sam put his hand on Harry's shoulder and said, "I guess you have a special reason to go. Me, I'm just going to have fun and maybe go out on my uncle's boat."

The more the boys talked, the more they convinced themselves that they had to make the trip. However, they had a couple of problems. First, they were kids, both fifteen years old; and second they had little money.

The conspirators met on the Carpenter School steps after supper one evening and formulated a plan. The boys knew they needed a great deal of money.

Sam said, "Yeah, some friends of my father just came from Naples, it cost each one over a C-Note for a ticket, and that's just one way."

"Not only that," Harry said, "I've been thinking we need money for the train to New York, food and places to stay until we find our people over there."

"You know it'll take forever to work for the dough," Harry said. "I'm making maybe three dollars and a couple of bits a week at Water Street, and I give two dollars of that to Ma, and you only got a paper route."

"Well," Sam said, "the only way is the Willy 'One Thumb' way."

"You mean kill somebody?"

"Nah, not kill, rob."

"Oh," Harry sighed with relief. "Yeah, but who's got that kind of money? We can't rob a bank or even a store."

"Yeah, I know," Sam agreed. "We got no guns and besides everybody in the neighborhood knows us. They'd tell the mick cops and we'd end up in the clink real quick." Sam pulled Harry's arm moving him closer and whispered, "I know where my pa hides money."

"Yeah, so?"

"Look, Pa don't trust banks. He says he learned his lesson about trusting somebody else with his money." Mimicking his father's diction, Sam went on, "He told me, 'Never trust nobody with you money, not banks, no somebody who say he's you friend, nobody. I know this man in Italy, he seem good man. He tell me he making a bank for us. He call Italian Friends' Bank. Many people give money. He promise he keep money safe and make more money. For while it good. People happy, tell friends about Italian Friends' Bank. Then, one day bank not open. Bastard gone with money from people.'" Sam continued, "Since then Pa hides his money in a secret place in the basement."

"Do you know where?" Harry asked.

"Nah, but every night after he comes home from the store, he goes down there. Next time, I'll sneak down and see where he stashes it. What'd you think?"

"Sounds like a good idea, but you better be careful he doesn't see you."

"Don't worry, I know places to hide. Remember when we'd play cops and robbers down there?"

"Yeah, but, you know, I don't think my pa has money. His job's digging ditches. It don't pay him hardly enough for us to live on."

Suddenly, an idea popped into Harry's head. "Sam, know what?"

"What? You got a brainstorm?"

"Yeah, my sister's new husband, Joe. He likes to flash lots of dough. Nobody knows exactly where he gets it. He says he's a salesman, but I don't know. I think he's one of those con guys, you know like that guy, "Moe the Coat." He's slick, know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Sam said, "My Uncle Salvatore, is like that. Me, I don't trust him. The jerk cheated me at cards when I was just a little kid."

"I know Joe likes to shoot dice and play cards and he takes my sister to a horse track in some place called Arlington Heights. But, he don't seem like a bad guy. He jokes around, and when he wants to be alone with my sister, he throws me two-bits to get lost. They're staying with us until they find a place. Okay, you find where your pa hides his stash, and I'll search my sister's room for any money Joe has."

Harry hesitated; his shoulders slumped. "You know, Sam, we're talking about taking money from our families. It don't feel right."

"Yeah, I know," Sam said. "But, what else can we do?"

A thoughtful look ventured onto Harry's face. "You know, like in the movies; they give a marker, an IOU. We can leave one of them and tell we'll pay back when we get back home."

"Yeah," Sam said.

The next week, Harry told Sam that time was running out because his sister and her husband announced they'd found a place on Oakley Avenue and they'd be moving at the end of the month. Harry knew that Anna and Joe usually went to the movies on Saturday night. They never got home before 11:00 o'clock. Sam and Harry met at the Carpenter School playground on Friday after supper.

"We need to make our moves this Saturday," Harry said.

Sam said, "I followed Pa. He hides his money in a burlap bag behind the coal chute. I went downstairs, got the bag and counted the money. Over fifteen hundred bucks."

"Wow! I'll make my move tomorrow night. I think Anna and Joe will go to the show."

Sam warned, "You got to get it tomorrow or else. If Pa finds out the money and me are gone, he'll come after me like Dracula looking for blood."
***
At supper on Saturday evening, Joe said, "You know Anna; I'm tired from my Detroit trip, so maybe we just stay home and listen to the radio with Papa and Mama. Whadda you say?"

"No! You can't do that. You gotta go!" The words banged in Harry's head, almost tumbling from his mouth. He watched Anna leaned over to Joe, and bite the tip of his ear. "Oh, come on, Joey, Jimmy Cagney in "Public Enemy." You said you wanted to see the movie.

"Say yes, Joe. Please, Joe, yes, yes," Harry said under his breath.

Joe smiled and winked at her, "You know, Annie, I can never say no to you."

The storm in Harry's stomach quelled. He'd have plenty of time to search their bedroom. After supper, Harry waited impatiently while his sisters Mary and Antoinette washed the supper dishes. Joe went into the living room to read the newspaper and smoke a cigar with Papa. Anna went into her bedroom to get ready for the movie. Harry's job was to put the supper things away after the girls washed and dried them. He kept urging them, "C'mon, you slow pokes. I've got things to do."

"What's the big rush?" Antoinette said. "It's not like you have a date or something." The girls giggled. When they finished, Mary put the dishtowel on Harry's head and said, "They're all yours."

Harry took the plates, cups and silverware and quickly put them in their places.

"Slow down you'll break something," Antoinette said.

Under his breathe, Harry said, "Too bad for the guy she marries. She'll boss him to death."
***
Joe walked into the bedroom. Harry's felt as if his stomach was slowly twisting like a pretzel, drops of sweat popped on his upper lip. He licked away the salty residue. Then a tremendous surge rose from his kidneys. He ran out the backdoor to the outhouse. After relieving himself, he returned to the kitchen and went into the pantry. He took paper and pencil from a shelf, plopped down at the table, and began to write. Joe and Anna came out of the bedroom. She wore a powder-blue sweater with the silver crucifix Mama gave her the day she was married. Mama had found the cross in the rubble after the Mt. Etna earthquake in 1908. The cross and a spinner for game she called, "Put and Take" were the only things she had from her homeland. Harry caught Joe out of the corner of his eye moving toward him. He flipped over the paper.

Joe put his hand on Harry's shoulder, "What you up to, Harry?"

"Just making a list of some stuff I might want to trade."

Joe tousled Harry's black hair. "Good luck. Make sure you get the better deal and don't take any wooden nickels.

Harry nodded his head. "Yeah, thanks, Joe, I won't. Wouldn't know what to do with them anyway."

Joe smiled and went to the front closet. Anna sat down across from Harry and asked how things were going at Water Street.

"A lot of heavy lifting, but I think I'm getting used to it."

Anna smiled and nodded toward the front closet and said, "Watch Joe with his hat."

Joe took his gray Fedora from the top shelf and brushed it with his jacket sleeve. He placed the hat on to his head and jauntily snapped the brim. He appraised himself in the mirror that hung on the back of the closet door then cocked the hat just a little to the right, and nodded approval. He ran a finger along his pencil-line mustache and plinked the crown of the hat, as if to say yep, Joe, you look sharp as usual. As he walked back into the kitchen, he said in Harry's direction, "A well-dressed man don't leave the house without a hat. Remember that, boy."

Harry waved.

Anna said good night to Harry and went to the bedroom door and carefully closed it. Joe offered his arm. "Don't worry," Joe said to Mama and Papa sitting in the living room, listening to the radio, "we'll be back around 11:00 o'clock and we won't forget the plates."

Mama wished more than anything to complete a china service for eight for Sunday dinners. The Oriental Theater offered pieces of the service at the eight o'clock shows on Friday and Saturday evenings. The theater was a short streetcar ride down Grand Avenue and then a walk over to State Street.

Harry finished writing, slipped the note into his pocket and was just getting up from the table when Papa walked into the kitchen. He picked up a stick match and lit the tip of his cigar. A flame rose, the cigar tip glowed red. He blew out the match, picked up one of the iron cooktops and flipped the match into the firebox. The cigars were the only extravagance Papa allowed himself. Harry watched Papa inhale his cigar. A dreamy look of pleasure came into his eyes as he exhaled a little circle of smoke.

"No finish you job yet?" Papa said.

"Oh, yeah, Pa. Just got one pot to go."

"What you do tonight?"

Harry gulped, fear tingled up his spine. Harry thought, "Please don't ask me to do something more tonight." Then he said, "I promised Sam I'd meet him and some guys down by the playground. Maybe go over to the dance at the park. Why?

"No be home late."

"Tomorrow's Saturday."

"Still, no be home late."

"Okay, Pa, don't worry, I'll be home after the dance."

Papa walked back into living room, where Mama sat with her knitting and little Frankie. The odor of cigar smoke lingered in the kitchen. Harry pulled a chair over, climbed on it and placed the last pot on the top shelf. He glanced out the back window. Mary and Antoinette sat on the back steps talking with a couple of girlfriends. Music drifted from the radio in the front room. Harry hopped off the chair and slid it under the table. Turned off the kitchen light, walked to Anna's bedroom door and turned the knob. A breath of relief; the door was unlocked. He checked down the hall to make sure Mama and Papa were in the living room.

Opening the door, he quickly slipped into the room and closed the door. The room was dark; but, he dare not turn on the light. He lifted the window shade. The street lamp cast a spooky, yellowish glow about the room. Harry scanned the room and focused on the door to the closet. He recalled it was a good place to hide on rainy Saturdays, when he and the girls played hide and seek. A white three-drawer dresser stood on the wall opposite the window, the bed was unmade, the sheets and spread lay in a heap. Harry thought, "God, Anna, you ain't a very good housekeeper." He opened the closet door, the sweet smell of lilacs tumbled over him. An array of multi-colored dresses and blouses hung from a wooden rod. Three men's suits and several shirts hung at the far end of the clothes rod. On the shelf were several shoe boxes, a large suitcase stood in a corner. One of those might be a good place to stash some cash. He deliberately took each box down and set it on the floor in the same order that it was on the shelf. Harry remembered a movie where a boy got caught stealing because he didn't put things back the way he found them. One by one, he carefully lifted the covers of the shoe boxes. He put his hand into each shoe. He recalled one of his mother's friends saying, "When my husband Lucca died, I went through every shoe. I found money in three of them." To Harry's disappointment he found nothing.

He carefully put the boxes back on the shelf in the same order he found them. He threw the suitcase on the bed and opened the lid. Peering down, he saw nothing but a towel that said, "Property of the Hotel La Salle." He quietly closed the lid and put suitcase back in the corner. He rummaged through the pockets of Joe's suits and came up empty.

The light went on in the kitchen; the smell of a Pierogi cigar flowed under the door. A streak of fear shot through Harry. He dropped to his knees, crawled under the bed. Dust bunnies roamed the wooden floor, his cheek rubbed against a discarded sock. He pushed it away. He heard the wooden icebox door squeak open and then close. The light went out and footsteps tramped by the bedroom door and plodded toward the living room. Harry let out a sigh and slid out from under the bed. He perused the room, and decided to check the dresser Mama and Papa bought at a used furniture sale at Assumption church and gave to Anna on her 19th birthday. Harry jiggled the top drawer, but it refused to open. He grabbed the handles on the second drawer and yanked. He was lucky to catch it before it fell from the dresser. He gently pushed the drawer back in. The scent of flowers rose from his sister's unmentionables. He felt a sneeze building in his nose. Grabbing a pillow from the bed, he pressed it against his face. The sneeze was barely audible. He cocked his head, but there was only silence in the hallway. He turned back to the drawer peeking underneath each bra and pair of panties until he saw hard wood at the bottom of the drawer. He shut the drawer then dropped to his knees and tugged open the bottom drawer.

There was no sweet odor, just a stuffy smell. Inside were men's underwear and socks piled to one side. Running his hand through the socks, he found nothing. Then he slipped his hand between the tee shirts and briefs. Under a pair of briefs, he felt something. Shifting his fingers, he heard a click. He slithered out his discovery; his eyes bulged. In his hand was a tightly wrapped wad of bills secured by rubber bands. He slipped the rubber bands on to his wrist and shuffled through tens, twenties, six fifties, and four one hundred dollar bills. The smell of the bills was intoxicating. Harry kissed the money and then counted it. "God!" Over a thousand bucks; Italy here I come."

He snapped the rubber bands around the roll and placed it in his pants pocket. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out the IOU he had written earlier. It said, "I'm sorry for taking your money. I will pay back when I get back, I promise. Harry Trumfio." "I really mean this, Joe," he said to himself.

With a trembling hand, Harry placed the note between the underwear. He closed the drawer and headed for the bedroom door then stopped. "I'll need a suitcase." He grabbed the suitcase from the closet and hurried to the door. Cracking it open, Harry glanced into the kitchen and then down the hall. Mama and Papa liked to listen to Fred Waring and his Pennsylvanians on WGN on Saturday evenings, the song, "Little White Lies" drifted from the living room. Harry slipped out of the bedroom and walked to the bedroom he shared with Frankie. He popped the suitcase on his bed and opened it. He took out the towel, and then decided to put it back. He threw in his pajamas, the three shirts he owned, a few pairs of socks, underwear and his Sunday suit and good shoes.

Harry walked through the kitchen and out the back door. His sisters and a couple of friends sat on the back stairs talking. Antoinette spied the suitcase and yelled out, "Going on a trip?"

Harry thought, "God! Why can't she ever mind her own business."

"Ah, no, no," he stammered, "Just bringing some of my stuff to trade with the guys."

Antoinette and her girlfriends sometimes traded clothes. Satisfied with his response, she resumed her conversation with her friends. Much relieved, Harry pushed his way past the girls and headed up the gangway and then across the street to Carpenter School. It was almost nine o'clock; he hoped that Sam would still be there. Just as he entered the schoolyard gate, Sam came across the playground, carrying a suitcase. He waved Harry toward the front steps of the school.

Sam said, "No time to waste. You got the money?"

Harry nodded.

"Good, we gotta go. I can't risk going back home and neither can you."

"Right," Harry whispered.