Elizabeth

      Jack and I walked into a barbershop straight out of a Puzo novel. Hidden in a side alley downtown, the shop seemed to have evaded the last sixty years. A smoky, old world interior made one seriously wonder if they had been transported to a pre-Mussolini Italy. Men in old fashioned business suits wandered in from the adjacent cigar shop, still puffing Churchills, sat down in a chair, opened the Wall Street Journal, and waited as young Italian boys shined their wingtips. Two ancient Italian men were busy shaping some government worker's hair into the same close cropped Prussian military cut that Jack wore.
      One of the old barbers looked up and broke into a wide grin. "Giacamo!" He exclaimed with obvious fondness, "Dove sei stato nascosto?" He set down his clippers and walked over to Jack, taking him by the face and kissing both cheeks. Jack smiled,
      "Salve, Alfredo. Mi dispiace, sono stato impegnato con il lavoro." The man Jack had addressed as Alfredo shook his head,
      "Il lavoro è per la classe media. Sembri un cane arruffato." Jack laughed heartily and slapped the man on the back. The other barber looked up from his work and barked a laugh as well.
      "E 'vero." Jack smiled and then took the man aside, conspiratorily, "Ma ho bisogno di guardare molto bene oggi. Mi potete aiutare?" Alfredo smiled knowingly,
      "Certo, ma devi dirmi; lei è molto bella?" Jack laughed again,
      "Molto." Alfredo, the other barber, the shoeshine boys, and several patrons broke into friendly laughter.
      "Bene, bene!" Alfredo said and motioned Jack to a chair. He looked at me. "You are Giacamo's friend, yes?" Jack cut in,
      "Apologies, Klaus; this is Fred Parelli, over there is his brother Mike. They are the best thing to come out of Italy since the days of suits and swords. Fred kissed my cheeks and welcomed me, Mike waved his clippers in greeting,
      "Ciao, Nicalo." It was the first word I understood but I thought it meant goodbye. I sat down confused next to Jack as he briefly asked the state worker next to us about some bill I had never heard of. Seeming satisfied, he turned back to me,
      "So, where were we?" Despite myself, I was always fascinated by Jack's tales and payed close attention to the details.
      "You had just left Fucking Ed sleeping on the bench." He smiled appreciatively at me and nodded to the shoeshine boy who began to shine first Jack's shoes and then mine.

      "Yes, we drove home, it had been my sober night, feeling victorious. The next week when we finished céilí and went to set up at our corner, Anastasia, Kandi, and a third girl were waiting for us. Now my fidelity is legendary, I consider the mere passing thought of another woman to be reprehensible for one in a relationship; but the girl in front of me made my heart stop. A classic German beauty with dark hair, a perfect petite figure, and entrancing blue eyes with slight Prussian shaping. This was Elizabeth."

      Jack seemed to drift away, lost in thought. After several minutes, he snapped back, looked at me apologetically, and continued.

      "Introductions were made, Elizabeth was another art student, living with Anastasia and Kandi. Eventually, we were invited back to their house. This turned into our open invitation to show up unannounced, drink copious amounts of liquor, and stay for as long as we wanted. It was grand, we would bring friends with us, explore the surrounding neighborhoods, drunkenly stumble down to Martha's Vineyard for drinks, we were in heaven. The stories from those days have no place here, but let it suffice to say that that house became a second home to us, and the girls became family. Obviously, I fell for Elizabetht...twice, but everyone eventually moved on; I got married, Anastasia and Kandi became bitter enemies, and Elizabeth moved back to Frankenmuth. I had a brief fling with Anastasia, which I have already covered. But then I reconnected with Elizabeth."
      The dreamy look came back into his eyes. I looked at him with concern,
      "Jack, are you alright? I've never known you to be so enthralled by a girl." He shook his head and smiled at me,
      "Some girls are worth enthralling oneself." He smiled again, less rakish, more preteen girl in love, I frowned in response. He noticed my bemused discomfort and sighed. "Listen, Klaus, you know me. I don't work in this world. My morals are archaic, my intellect is crippling, and my elocution would make Oscar Wilde homophobic. I make the best of it, I play on my oddities, making them into jokes; I maintain a careful façade of happiness. But I'm absolutely bloody miserable, Klaus. Stop, don't look at me like some wounded puppy, it can't be helped; the world is not suited for me. The point is, with her, it all recedes. She appreciates my singular personality, my asinine dress, and my foppish diction. And more than that, she tempers me. When I'm with her, I find the world much more bearable." I left the barbershop in a shocked silence, nodding robotically to Fred and Mike as they urged me to return in the future.
      Jack seemed embarrassed by his confession. He did his best to comfort me by flirting shamelessly with most of the women he encountered for the next few days. On Friday, he left for Frankenmuth.