After a time we got to Gus Papas's.
It was a bigger place than Tony's. It was kind of a park as well as a
restaurant. There was a small lake with a dock and a line of rowboats,
and a ball field, and a lot of trees with tables and benches under
them. At one end of the lake were tourist cabins. We drove by the
cabins to the main building. Out in front was a gas pump. The building
was a hunting-lodge, the walls made of rough-hewn logs and plaster. I
parked the Chevy by two other cars.
Inside the lodge there were Indian rugs on the floor and deer and elk
heads on the walls. There were some couches and a big stone fireplace.
Ginger led me through a hall to a screened porch at the back where
there was a bar and a Greek bartender. He was talking to a small man in
a white suit. We ordered a sidecar and an old-fashioned. I asked the
bartender it we could get something to eat.
“Sure. We gotta special fish dinner-.”
“What kind of fish?”
“Black bass. Is very good.”
“What do you say, Ginger?”
“It sounds all right.”
“Okay. Two bass dinners.”
We drank our drinks. Ginger smiled at me over the top of her glass.
She didn't look quite so sullen. “Here's to Pug,” she said. She tried
to drink to him, but her glass was empty. I ordered two more. Then we
decided to wash for dinner.
The. bartender showed me where the men's room was. While I was there
two guys came in. One of them had on a tan gabardine suit. The other
was a waiter. He had a broom. The guy in the tan suit was bawling him
out for not having swept the washroom. I guess that was what it was.
They were speaking Greek. The waiter took the broom and cleaned the
door. The guy in the tan suit and I watched him. The waiter got a
dustpan and swept the dirt into it. Then he went out.
The man in the tan suit grinned at me. He had a gold tooth. “Damn
Greeks,” he said. “Loaf all time.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Say, you're Gus Papas, aren't you?”
“Tha's right.”
I held out my hand. “I'm Karl, in the City Clerk's office “
We shook hands. He pretended to know me. Maybe he actually thought he
did. Greeks are like that. They can believe anything they think they
ought to believe.
“Anything I can do for you, Karl?” he asked.
“Maybe I can do something for you.”
The smile went off his face. His lips sort of puffed out, like red
rubber tyres. He thought I was going to try to sell him something.
“You know Pug Banta? I asked.
His face changed again. He didn't look so soft. He nodded. “I think
he's going to try to break up your place.
“How do you know that?”
“Don't get me wrong. I don't know it. It's only something I overheard
at Tony's.”
The man in the white suit came into the washroom. He was a little
drunk. He went to one of the urinals.
“You come to my office,” Papas said.
I followed him. There was a desk littered with papers and two chairs.
A window looked out on the lake. “Sit down, please; now what you hear?”
“It wasn't much. Maybe I shouldn't bother you with it.”
“Do you think it's a bother to me, to hear how Pug wants to break up
my joint? Don't make me laugh.”
“Okay. I heard Pug talking to a Greek-looking fellow.”
“Nick,” Papas said. “He used to work for me.”
“I didn't know that,” I said. “Anyway, I heard Pug say: 'He's been in
my hair long enough.' And this Nick says: 'Why don't you drive him out?
He's yellow. Break up his joint and he won't stop running until he hits
Athens.' “
“Some kid, that Nick,” Papas said.
“And Pug says: 'By God! I'll do it. Tomorrow night. I'll make it look
like he started the trouble.' And then Nick says: 'If you need a good
fella to take Gus Papas's place, I'm him. I know how the place runs.' “
I looked at Papas to see how he was taking it. He looked scared and
mad. He muttered something in Greek. Then he asked: “Why you tell me
this?”
“Pug beat me up once.”
“He beat up too many people,”
It was a bigger place than Tony's. It was kind of a park as well as a
restaurant. There was a small lake with a dock and a line of rowboats,
and a ball field, and a lot of trees with tables and benches under
them. At one end of the lake were tourist cabins. We drove by the
cabins to the main building. Out in front was a gas pump. The building
was a hunting-lodge, the walls made of rough-hewn logs and plaster. I
parked the Chevy by two other cars.
Inside the lodge there were Indian rugs on the floor and deer and elk
heads on the walls. There were some couches and a big stone fireplace.
Ginger led me through a hall to a screened porch at the back where
there was a bar and a Greek bartender. He was talking to a small man in
a white suit. We ordered a sidecar and an old-fashioned. I asked the
bartender it we could get something to eat.
“Sure. We gotta special fish dinner-.”
“What kind of fish?”
“Black bass. Is very good.”
“What do you say, Ginger?”
“It sounds all right.”
“Okay. Two bass dinners.”
We drank our drinks. Ginger smiled at me over the top of her glass.
She didn't look quite so sullen. “Here's to Pug,” she said. She tried
to drink to him, but her glass was empty. I ordered two more. Then we
decided to wash for dinner.
The. bartender showed me where the men's room was. While I was there
two guys came in. One of them had on a tan gabardine suit. The other
was a waiter. He had a broom. The guy in the tan suit was bawling him
out for not having swept the washroom. I guess that was what it was.
They were speaking Greek. The waiter took the broom and cleaned the
door. The guy in the tan suit and I watched him. The waiter got a
dustpan and swept the dirt into it. Then he went out.
The man in the tan suit grinned at me. He had a gold tooth. “Damn
Greeks,” he said. “Loaf all time.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Say, you're Gus Papas, aren't you?”
“Tha's right.”
I held out my hand. “I'm Karl, in the City Clerk's office “
We shook hands. He pretended to know me. Maybe he actually thought he
did. Greeks are like that. They can believe anything they think they
ought to believe.
“Anything I can do for you, Karl?” he asked.
“Maybe I can do something for you.”
The smile went off his face. His lips sort of puffed out, like red
rubber tyres. He thought I was going to try to sell him something.
“You know Pug Banta? I asked.
His face changed again. He didn't look so soft. He nodded. “I think
he's going to try to break up your place.
“How do you know that?”
“Don't get me wrong. I don't know it. It's only something I overheard
at Tony's.”
The man in the white suit came into the washroom. He was a little
drunk. He went to one of the urinals.
“You come to my office,” Papas said.
I followed him. There was a desk littered with papers and two chairs.
A window looked out on the lake. “Sit down, please; now what you hear?”
“It wasn't much. Maybe I shouldn't bother you with it.”
“Do you think it's a bother to me, to hear how Pug wants to break up
my joint? Don't make me laugh.”
“Okay. I heard Pug talking to a Greek-looking fellow.”
“Nick,” Papas said. “He used to work for me.”
“I didn't know that,” I said. “Anyway, I heard Pug say: 'He's been in
my hair long enough.' And this Nick says: 'Why don't you drive him out?
He's yellow. Break up his joint and he won't stop running until he hits
Athens.' “
“Some kid, that Nick,” Papas said.
“And Pug says: 'By God! I'll do it. Tomorrow night. I'll make it look
like he started the trouble.' And then Nick says: 'If you need a good
fella to take Gus Papas's place, I'm him. I know how the place runs.' “
I looked at Papas to see how he was taking it. He looked scared and
mad. He muttered something in Greek. Then he asked: “Why you tell me
this?”
“Pug beat me up once.”
“He beat up too many people,”
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