American Dreams (62 page)

The seconds ticked by. The waitress laid their check between them.

Fritzi picked it up. Carl examined the frayed end of the scarf. Then he looked up, into her eyes, saying nothing.

The evening meal was called punctually with a bell at seven forty-five; nothing ever changed. Working up nerve at each step, she walked to the dining room with her chin high and a stiff smile on her face. In the archway
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she broke step, dismayed to see Joey and Carl and her mother, but not the General, though she'd been informed by one of the servants that he was home.

'Your father is in his office,' lisa said in answer to her question. 'I've sent Troubled House

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Leopold to tell him we're sitting down.' lisa clutched a lace hanky in her left hand, and Fritzi noticed that her knuckles were white.

Dsa took her usual place at the end of the long, heavy dining table. Fritzi sat on one side, Joe Junior and Carl on the other. Carl talked animatedly with his mother while Joey slouched on his spine, looking like he was ready to punch the first person who annoyed him. Fritzi sat facing her brothers and the mammoth sideboard with the Bierstadt painting of Yosemite above it. The room was exactly as she remembered: old-fashioned walnut paneling, massive furniture, an elaborate electric chandelier long ago converted from gas.

She heard brisk steps, stood up without a second thought. Her palms were moist, her pulse beating fast in her wrists and throat. The General came in, slim and correct in his posture, though she was dismayed to see how frail he'd grown. His mustache and imperial were neat as ever, but his white hair was so thin she could see his scalp. His cheeks had an unhealthy choleric redness.

'Good evening, Fritzi,' he said with a slight bow. It was civil but cold.

Quite without thinking about it, she curtseyed as lisa had taught her when she was small.

'Papa, I'm so glad to see you.'

A flick of his eyes acknowledged the remark. He marched down the other side of the table, behind Carl and Joey, and sat in his tall, throne-like chair. No kiss of greeting for her -- not even a touch to demonstrate paternal affection.

Two girls in black dresses and white aprons came in to serve the meal, lisa said, 'Isn't it wonderful to have Fritzi here for the party, Joe?'

'Very nice,' he said, rearranging his silverware by moving each piece a millimeter or two. i hope you are in good health, Fritzi.'

Good health? Was that all he could think of to say? His meager concern infuriated her, but she managed to hide it.

Still with a false brightness, lisa said, 'Doesn't she look fine, Joe? She is so busy in California--'

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'Making those pictures.' Satisfied with the silverware, he glanced at his daughter. The disapproval she felt was dismaying. 'I have not seen any of them.'

Reddening, Fritzi muttered, 'It's all right, papa, they're not exactly great drama.'

i disapprove of a woman displaying herself to strangers. Paul's pictures, now -- they reflect important events. They have value.' Carl was frowning.

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The General went on, 'I cannot go to see my own daughter make herself look foolish. I'm only grateful that very few people in Chicago know what you are doing.'

Joey laughed. 'Pop, they know. Her new picture's a terrific hit.'

'No one has mentioned it at the brewery.'

'Hell, they're not dumb. Your opinions about Fritzi's care"er aren't exactly secret.'

lisa said, 'Joey, I wish you wouldn't use bad language.'

'He doesn't know any other kind, unless it's his communist cant,' the General said.

Defiantly, Joe Junior said, 'Lots of people at Crown's know what Sis is doing, and they think she's swell. Lev Dunn in the bottling house told me he saw Fritzi in Knockabout Nell and almost split his sides.'

'Lev Dunn,' the General repeated. Fritzi feared the poor man was in for it. The emotional temperature of the room was rising.

The serving girls brought platters and silver-domed dishes to the table.

The supper entree was sauerbraten, with thick, rich gravy and red cabbage.

Everyone concentrated on filling their plates; Fritzi filled hers, though she'd lost her appetite. The German devotion to the ritual of eating was something else she remembered from this room.

lisa's false cheer persisted. 'After supper we all want to hear Fritzi tell us about California. It's such a fascinating, faraway place. I long to see it someday.'

'Southern California's lovely,' she agreed. 'The climate is supposed to be as mild and sunny as the Mediterranean coast.'

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The General put his napkin down. 'I don't believe I have time for a travelogue. Two gentlemen are coming here for a meeting.'

'Here to this house?' lisa said. 'You didn't mention it, Joe.'

'We'll meet in my office. We won't trouble you.' It was a curt dismissal.

Infuriated for the sake of his mother and sister, Carl threw his napkin on the table. 'What about me, Pop? Are you too busy to hear about my plans? I'm going across to join the French air corps.'

'As a mercenary,' the General snorted. 'Your mother informed me.

Needless to say, I consider the idea barbarous and, in view of this country's official posture, unpatriotic'

'Oh, Christ,' Joey groaned, holding his head.

The target of hurt and angry looks, the General drew himself up with unconscious haughtiness. 'I am trying to behave as a responsible citizen.

The two gentlemen who will be here are business colleagues - brewers of Taking Sides 391

good, wholesome beer' He reached for his stein of Crown lager, a constant at every meal. 'We are planning a newspaper campaign to show the fallacy of what the President calls neutrality. In reality his policy means favoring Great Britain over Germany. If Wilson's neutrality meant selling food and medicine and arms to both countries, in an even-handed way, I could accept it. But that isn't the case. The whole Eastern establishment -- the newspapers, college presidents, the free-love intellectuals, the arms dealers

-- they all worship the Allies and condemn the fatherland.'

'Maybe it's with good reason,' Carl began. 'My friend Rene said--'

The General slammed the stein on the table. 'Don't irritate me further, young man. I am grossly ashamed of what you are doing.'

Fritzi could take no more. 'Carl ought to do what he wants, Papa. He's a grown man.'

The General's glance withered her. 'Of course you'd say that, living the kind of willful, selfish life that you do. Defying the wishes of your--'

'/oe.' lisa's whisper was strident. 'No more, for pity's sake.'

'I'm sorry, my dear' -- he wasn't - 'I have German blood and so do you, though you show signs of forgetting it.' lisa sat very still. The General took a sip of beer, dabbed his mustache with his napkin, and stood. 'You'll excuse me. The visitors will be here shortly and I have some work.'

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He marched out. lisa's voice faltered as she said to Fritzi,.'Please, liebchen, eat something more.

We don't want it to go to waste.'

The words fell into a gloomy silence. Fritzi stared at her lap. Carl scowled at his plate. Joe Junior lit a cigarette, a sour smirk on his sallow and haggard face.

70 Taking Sides

Every year Joe Crown hired the same large ballroom at the Palmer House, the same musicians from the Chicago Symphony to serenade guests before dinner, then play for dancing. The guest list was composed of men and women who represented the spectrum of the Crowns' life in Chicago: not only brewery employees and half a dozen competitors, but local pols, including Mayor Carter Harrison. There were parishioners from St. Paul's Lutheran Church and members of the General's clubs -- the 392

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Union League, Germanic, and Swabian. lisa invited women she knew through her volunteer work at Hull House. Its founder, Jane Addams, a spinster, came alone. In all, there were some two hundred fifty guests, speaking as much Deutsch as English.

The party grew noisier as the drink flowed: not only pitchers of Crown beer, light and dark, but champagne, liebfraumilch, Riesling, and Franconian red wine. Even modern cocktails were available, though the General disapproved of them.

lisa looked handsome in an evening gown of rich yellow satin with an elaborate lace bertha. Though long out of style, the gown was a favorite of the General's. Fritzi had bought her expensive dress in Los Angeles. The bodice of beaded black chiffon flattered her slender torso. The attached skirt was emerald green velvet, short enough to display her silver slippers.

The General's tails fit him smartly, but the same couldn't be said for Joe Junior and his brother. Their rented suits were baggy, reminding Fritzi of low comedians in a slapstick two-reeler.

She didn't know many of the guests. She needn't have worried; people recognized her. They introduced themselves and congratulated her on her success. One woman gushed, 'How lucky you are, my dear. Moving picture actors are America's new royalty.' A startling thought she would not
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mention to her father.

They dined at round tables for ten. Fritzi sat with a rival brewer, Mingeldorf, and his wife, the mayor and his wife, two couples from church, and the Crown brew master, a widower. lisa had worked with the hotel catering department to present a certifiably German menu. The main dishes wereKalb,Hammel, and Rind- veal, mutton, beef -- accompanied by sweetbreads, six vegetables, dumplings, roast potatoes, hard and soft rolls, Westphalian black bread and pumpernickel, all followed by sumptuous desserts, then coffee with bowls of fluffy white Schlagsahne on the side.

Toasts to the celebrating couple followed. The General rose last.

'Ladies and gentlemen, dear friends. Each of you is special to my wife and myself -- Fritzi looked down at her hands -- 'though I would speak now only of one, if you will permit me.' He raised his glass. 'To you, lisa.

Many years ago I found a flower that became a treasure. I am the luckiest of men.'

Everyone rose to applaud. lisa dabbed her eyes. Carl clapped lustily; Joey whistled through his teeth. The musicians struck up 'The Emperor Waltz.' Joe led lisa to the floor amid more applause.

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Joey disappeared, probably for the rest of the night. Fritzi saw Carl knock back another flute of champagne and immediately signal the waiter to fill his glass with dark beer. A bit later, she was chatting with Jane Addams when she heard Carl speaking loudly. She was alarmed to see him weaving on his feet in conversation with stout Otto Mingeldorf.

'You will defy the stated wishes of your own president?' the offended brewer said. Evidently Carl had revealed his plans. Mingeldorf shook a finger. '"My fellow countrymen, we must be impartial in thought as well as action." Those were Wilson's exact words.'

'Sure, Otto,' Carl boomed. 'But what if he's wrong?'

The General stopped dancing. Crowd noise diminished as people responded to Carl's loud voice. Mingeldorf's wife tried to pull him away.

He wanted to argue:

'Outrageous of you to say that! There is principle involved here.

Principle!' He pounded a fist into his palm. 'Germany and her allies are wronged by falsehoods, unfounded accusations--'

'You mean all the atrocity stories coming out of Belgium?'

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'lies! Where do you think they originate? The propaganda ministries in London and Paris. I have read equally ghastly accounts of Allied war crimes. Cholera germs put in wells in occupied France. French priests giving German soldiers coffee laced with strychnine.'

'Where do those come from, Berlin?'

The General strode over to his son. 'Carl, kindly do not badger our guests.'

'Sorry, Pop. Just wanted to tell him how things are.'

In a low voice, almost a growl, the General said, i believe you've had too much to drink. Kindly desist.'

Anxiously, Fritzi watched her brother's face change, become almost truculent. 'When I'm good and ready, Pop. Anyway, Mingeldorf, I fly mostly for the thrill of it. The thrill, and the pay.'

The General grabbed Carl's shoulder, intending to pull him away. Carl said, 'Hey,' and started to push back. The General stepped to one side, and Carl was suddenly off balance. His feet slid from under him; he fell clumsily. His forehead smacked the polished floor. Everyone gasped.

Livid, the General said, 'On your feet. I said, get up.1

Carl's head lifted a few inches. Fritzi was alarmed at the glazed look of his eyes. She ran forward to help him. Her father's voice cracked like a shot:

"Leave him alone. He deserves no help.'

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Almost in tears, lisa rushed to plead with her husband. 'Joe, I beg you--' He turned his back. The guests watched in varying states of shock.

Fritzi and her father stood four feet apart, with Carl the apex of the triangle they formed. The General's face had a purplish tinge. He and Fritzi stared at one another. Carl raised his head briefly, then passed out. Fritzi moved closer.

'Fritzi, don't touch him.'

'We can't just let him lie here, Papa.'

'I'll call the janitors. They pick up trash. I order you not to help him.'

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She was already kneeling by her fallen brother.

Dreary rain fell on Sunday morning, 'Peace Sunday.' Carl had vanished from the house before daylight, without saying goodbye to anyone. Fritzi's train for California left at eleven forty-five. Leopold came for her valises at half past ten. She followed him downstairs, where the General and lisa met them in their church finery.

The General's expression was severe. He and Fritzi had had no further conversation since she had defied him at the party. He said, 'I am one of the lay persons speaking at the eleven o'clock service. We are unable to see you off. Leopold will drive you to the station.'

'It isn't necessary, I can call a taxi.'

'Must you quarrel with everything I say, Fritzi? Leopold will go with you!'

His anger beat on her like a tangible force. She drew a deep breath.