The Ozone Cafe

A Scene from Chapter 14

Winifred skirted her bike in the front courtyard, and pitched her voice towards Vincenzo. ‘I have to get home for a minute. I’ll be back soon. I’ve got a present for you. Wait and see. You’ll love them.’

   Nothing held him back now, Vincenzo whistled as he dragged the teeth of the rake through the leaf litter. ‘That girl, Pomadina,’ he said, the dog looking up expectantly, ‘is full of surprises. Here I am, raking, waiting to show them my mural, and she is building up suspense like a great Italian film.’

   In a flash he heard a knock at the front door. Casey was looking into the café’s darkness with cupped hands, while Nicolas was parked under the jacaranda.

   ‘I’m round here, kids,’ called Vincenzo. ‘I wait for the big moment, hey? Mainly for the time yous all turn up together.’

   ‘Where’s Winifred,’ asked Casey.

   ‘She be a minute. Gone home first. Here, come around to the side near my canvas. I have some Coca-Cola for you.’ Vincenzo bent down, picking up the last of his sweepings, placing the contents in a metal bin. They sat under one of the umbrellas while Nicolas spun his wheelchair on the spot, stirring Pomadina into a game of growling.

   ‘Why have you got it covered up,’ said Casey. ‘Can’t we have a look now?’

   ‘Uh, uh,’ said Vincenzo, waving his finger. ‘We wait. We be all together. This is special moment in Vincenzo’s life. I never did anything like this before, and well, we see.’

   Vincenzo lifted the caps off the Coca-Cola, handing the bottles to the children. They sat quietly for several minutes, until Casey chattered on about her sports day at school. She finished her drink and handed the bottle back to Vincenzo. ‘Mr. Polamo, why Is the café all dark inside. Is there a black-out?’

   ‘Na, but I got a big surprise for you kids, and….’  

   At that moment, Winifred climbed the steps and stood puffing with her stomach bent over. ‘Made it in five,’ she said, taking in long breaths, and handing Vincenzo a package wrapped in newspaper.

   ‘You needn’t unwrap it, it’s just fish. Dad caught a bucket-load last night off the heads. I think he’s given you a red snapper, too.’

   Vincenzo’s heart stirred. He noticed this every time someone showed him some kindness. Winifred’s family was the type of people he had come to call his own. He had been to their home, played scrabble and dominoes with Winifred’s brothers, had supper at the table, and walked Pomadina there and back, just to have a friendly chat and cup of tea with Marcia, Winifred’s mother. It was only a couple of times, but they would listen intently to Vincenzo’s stories about his family back home. He hadn’t seen Rennie since the building project finished, so they were his new friends.

   ‘I put them in the fridge later,’ he said, waving to the children to come closer to the wall. ‘Okay, the big momento.’

   Vincenzo untangled  the rope from two hooks at the top of the wall, and lowered the tarpaulin. There, as if the sea had planted its impression on the wall, was a large seascape, a buoyant ship, its hull disappearing into the waves. At the helm was King Neptune, his tunic billowing in the wind, right arm pointing forward, a raised fork holding back the massive curls on his head.  Further along the wall, and sloping down towards the front of the café, were the rippled indentations of the ocean and its shoreline. A shark fin pointed between the extrusions of cement, and the sand was dotted with tiny mollusk shells and periwinkles. Two starfish curled at the water’s edge. Larger still at the end of the mural, and lazing on a web of rock, were two mermaids; one child size and the other almost like a teenager. Their tail fins draped in a reclining pose. One mermaid  looked out to sea with her hair trailing behind, while the other stared gainfully at a tiny crab crawling along her arm. Vincenzo beckoned the children to come closer, to put their fingers into small crevices on the wall. Deep within the surface of the rocks he’d drawn the words ‘Winifred’ and ‘Casey’. And on King Neptune, across the front arc of his crown, he’d written the word ‘Nicolas’.

   Vincenzo crossed his arms and moved back away from a slither of sunlight into the shade, studying his work at some distance. Any minute now, he thought, he would go crazy if the children didn’t say something, until finally he said, ‘Well, what you think, kids?’

   ‘Yeah, we like it,’ said Winifred.

   ‘Is that all? You don’t like something?’ queried Vincenzo, puzzled at the quietness of Casey and Nicolas.

   ‘Nah,’ said Winifred.

   ‘Well, what you think? Casey, you like? Nicolas, you big King now.’

   ‘You have to give us time, you know, Vin,’ said Winifred. ‘We weren’t expecting…well, I mean we didn’t know what it would look like. We’ve only seen pictures of Jason and the Argonauts in our school library books. We’ve never seen anything so…so beautiful ever, ever, and you’ve got us in the picture. We didn’t know you’d put our faces and names there forever.’

   Casey and Nicolas moved back further into the courtyard, Casey pulling Nicolas backwards until both folded their arms in front, studying the mural as if they were art critics ready to find fault.

   ‘Bravo!’ yelled Nicolas, almost standing in his wheelchair.

   The sudden sound, coming from such a quiet boy, took Vincenzo by surprise. ‘Oh, you had me worried there, boy. I thought you didn’t like it, hey?’

   ‘Bravo!’ yelled Casey, in likeness to Nicolas’s outburst, thrusting both arms in the air.

   ‘Bravo!’ Winifred rejoined, grabbing Vincenzo’s hand and shaking it vigorously. And their loud clapping, continued on and on until they all grew tired of Pomadina’s incessant barking.

   Vincenzo placed a finger in the air, and said, ‘Wait here, there’s more.’

   He returned with a plastic bucket and lid. ‘Open it,’ he said, to Winifred.

   ‘Paddle Pops, yippee!’

   ‘Yep, one each. We celebrate - Vin Polamo’s finally gone and done something right, ‘cause of you three.’

  The children fell silent eating their ice-creams. The sea lay before them, unhurried, yet busy nippers seemed to claw their way sideways along the wall. The children made a sudden discovery of the galaxy of stars; the limpets glowing a silver luminescence. The starfish seemed to be holding a tentacle each, as if circling in a Mexican dance. The rainbow fish rubbed noses and the moon had a face, with depressions like Swiss cheese. The fading sunlight caught each child’s face in a perfect family likeness. They gathered closer in to the mural, pointing, laughing, touching its surface and looking back at Vincenzo’s beaming face.  Each little finger traced over a shell, a necklace, a mermaid, or a ship’s mate holding a conch shell to his ear.

   Vincenzo, preempting Winifred’s next question said, ‘And young Bella, no shells left. They all used, hey?’

   ‘We think it’s wonderful,’ said Winifred. ‘Can we tell all the kids at school?’

   ‘We tell everybody,’ said Vincenzo. ‘Even the Satara Herald.’

   ‘Wow!’ they all repeat.

   ‘We better put the fish in the fridge, otherwise it’ll be stinkeroony,’ said Winifred.

   All three waited at the front, Nicolas holding Pomadina on his lap, as Vincenzo unlocked  the doors.

   ‘Boy, it’s dark in here,’ said Casey.

   A flutter of electric light beamed down on their faces, and as Vincenzo bent down to flick the jukebox switch, he had to cover his ears with the high-pitched screaming. The children’s voices, piercing the air like the wails of hyenas after a kill. Their eyes and faces glowed in the purple light of the jukebox. Vincenzo removed his hands, telling them to listen to the first record he chose. Marty Robbins’ El Paso, then he had queued in Johnny Ray’s Just a walkin’ in the rain.

   Winifred and Casey began to march back and forth in the aisle, pretending to twirl umbrellas, while Nicolas discovered the Table Soccer at chest height.

   ‘I make better plans now,’ said Vincenzo. Soon I use deep fryer for fish and chips. I sell Paddle Pops, Twin Poles and Wafers. I do lunch of salad sandwiches on white bread, yes Casey. Maybe some fairybread, but I dunno. And I will order in the biggest pool table you have ever seen.’

   Winifred and Casey gathered around the jukebox, pointing to all the songs they had heard on the wireless. ‘Where?’ said Casey. ‘There,’ Winifred pointed. ‘Oh, he’s got Itzy Bitzy and Crash Craddock too.’

   Vincenzo pulled down the front blinds and turned his sign to CLOSED. He was so overwhelmed by the day, telling the children that he needed a nap. He told them they could keep playing, but to let themselves out the side door. He slipped quietly away to the sounds of a young girl entering the water in a yellow polka-dot bikini: the children not really listening to his soft footfalls climbing the stairs. They were too busy shrieking to every twang and hit of the soccer ball.