I met with the managing editor, Bob Sheldon, and then he handed me over to Jack Sanders, the chief of the metro desk. Both nice guys. Both came from the same mold that gave us Dave Barrett and Bob Doering, my Litchfield bosses. I walked out of there thinking I\u2019d done pretty good. As much as I hated to admit it, I think they were impressed with my having gradu- ated from Yale. \u201cWe don\u2019t get many Ivy Leaguers wanting to work here,\u201d the managing editor said. \u201cI\u2019d be happy to be the first,\u201d I replied. And that was true. \t<\/p>\n

That afternoon, it was the Herald Tribune\u2019s turn and I didn\u2019t think went quite as well. I could tell they were looking for someone a little older, a little more experienced. And I was sure my nerves showed, not especially what you want when you\u2019re trying to impress someone and convince them you\u2019re the right man for the job. <\/p>\n

That morning, as I was leaving for my interviews, my aunt asked what I\u2019d like for dinner. \u201cI\u2019m sure you could use a home- cooked meal,\u201d she said, then started to probe me for my favor- ite foods.
\n\u201cNo, no, no,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m taking you out for dinner…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI appreciate it, Jakey, but you really don\u2019t have to do that.\u201d \u201cAre you kidding? I want to do it. And believe it or not, they actually pay me for what I do at the paper. So, I\u2019ve got money burning a hole in my pocket and what better way to spend it than taking my favorite aunt out to dinner. Just think about where you\u2019d like to go. And do not, under any circumstances, make it one of the local luncheonettes. If I report back to my mom that that\u2019s where I took you, she\u2019d disown me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou choose, Jakey. After all, you\u2019re the guest.\u201d<\/p>\n

I got back to my aunt\u2019s around 3:30. She was out, so I decided to catch a quick nap. I was beat, having been up before five that morning, meaning I got maybe three fitful hours of sleep. And even the excitement of being back in the big city didn\u2019t keep my eyelids from drooping. And I had no trouble falling asleep, despite the sound of traffic outside the window.<\/p>\n

I was awakened by the sound of Aunt Sonia unlocking the door. I looked at the clock. It was 5:30 p.m. I got up, straightened myself out, and staggered into the living room just as she was headed to the kitchen carrying two large paper bags filled with groceries.
\n\u201cRemember,\u201d I said, \u201cwe\u2019re going out for dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you sure, Jakey,\u201d she said as I followed close at her heels into the kitchen.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne-hundred percent sure. Here, let me help you put those things away.\u201d She smiled. \u201cYou won\u2019t know where to put them,\u201d she said as she placed both bags down on the kitchen table.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think with all the time I spent here as a kid I don\u2019t know where the milk, eggs, bread, flour, and everything else goes? And even if I didn\u2019t, I\u2019m a reporter, remember? I think I can figure it out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Jakey. I guess I can\u2019t get the little kid out of my mind. I\u2019ll put this bag away, you put away the other.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, what\u2019s new around here, Aunt Sonia?\u201d I asked as I ferried eggs and milk to the icebox.<\/p>\n

\u201cNew?\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cI mean, it\u2019s not the same old Yorkville, is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not sure what you mean, Jakey.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do read the papers, don\u2019t you? We\u2019re at war with Germany, Italy, and Japan. This is Yorkville. It\u2019s crawling with German-Americans, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI really don\u2019t see much of a difference,\u201d she said, stowing away the last of the groceries in the cabinet next to the stove. I got the feeling this was a subject she was not interested in dis- cussing, which made it all the more appealing to me. Maybe that accounts for my going into journalism. <\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s got to be a little tension, doesn\u2019t there? I mean, wasn\u2019t there that big Nazi rally at Madison Square Garden a few years ago?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t really pay much attention to the news, Jakey. Of course, I read everything your mother sends me that you wrote. But the news, well, it\u2019s very upsetting.\u201d She shook her head back and forth slowly. <\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s putting it mildly,\u201d I said as I pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table. <\/p>\n

\u201cHave you decided where we\u2019re going?\u201d Aunt Sonia said. I could see she was still uncomfortable talking about anything having to do with the war. And then it hit me. Her son, my cousin Bobby, who was several years older than me, pushing thirty, in fact, recently enlisted and was now somewhere in Eu- rope. No wonder she was reluctant to talk about it. <\/p>\n

\u201cI thought the Heidelberg might be fun. I remember you taking me there as a kid. It was like one big party. I remember someone was at the piano playing these songs I\u2019d never heard before. And this very strange music…\u201d <\/p>\n

She smiled. \u201cOom-pah music. And you were so cute. You got up and started swaying back and forth.\u201d <\/p>\n

My face got warm. \u201cI don\u2019t remember anything of the sort,\u201d I said, embarrassed at the thought of doing something so attention-grabbing. <\/p>\n

\u201cYou can ask your mother if you don\u2019t believe me. But just let me change and freshen up and we\u2019ll get going.\u201d <\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Excerpt from \u201dThird Degree\u201d<\/i> by Ross Klavan, Tim O’Mara and Charles Salzberg. Copyright 2020 by Ross Klavan, Tim O’Mara and Charles Salzberg. Reproduced with permission from Ross Klavan, Tim O’Mara and Charles Salzberg. All rights reserved.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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