The Past Recedes

Chapter 42

"Good luck on your trip, take lots of pictures and tell me if pizza there is better than here", said Josh as he dropped them off at LAX.

"Of course, but pizza in Italy really is better than in the US. You'll see one day", said John as he clapped the younger man on the back.

"It's good that Grandma and Grandpa are going with us, I don't know anyone there", said Nika.

"You'll love Nonna, she's thrilled to be a great-grandma. My grandparents came to the US in the 1910's and went back to Italy after Nonno retired. It's a great place to relax and get away from it all, recharge my batteries", John mused aloud.

Nika was thoughtful as they checked in their bags and went through security. She was glad her grandparents were coming along and hoped her great-grandparents were nice, and that there really wasn't a curse on the Frusciante family. LAX was sort of familiar as she had gone here with mother's family to fly to England or Japan, but this time the gate was different.

"Mom is already cooking dinner, she think I don't eat right on tour. I told her during the Mother's Milk tour that we had fast food all the time and she got really concerned. Now I can't stand the stuff", said John with a rueful smile.

Nika wondered if her grandma was also concerned about his drug use as well. The plate glass windows around the gate let in brilliant southern California sunshine and glinted on the airplanes massed outside. John sat in one of the chairs and took out his cigarette case and lighter, opening up the silver box to select a Dunhill before lighting the tip and taking a drag. In the early morning light, his long dark brown curls shone with vivid golden and auburn highlights, the smoke framing his face in a sort of halo.

Nika wrinkled her nose at the smell of cigarette smoke but said nothing, glad that at least he wasn't on those horrid drugs. She observed John as he took another drag off his cigarette, his long slim guitarist fingers delicately holding the Dunhill. Watching her father smoke was oddly comforting since she had grown up watching her grandfather smoke, watching as he tapped the ashes into a nearby ashtray. "It's for my nerves, I always smoke before a flight. I used to drink a lot of wine but alcohol no longer agrees with me. I can have a little wine with meals, but anymore makes me sick", he explained.

Nika nodded. She knew and understood that her father had taken drugs in order to cope with fame, but was curious why he chose to do heroin. What she knew about the drug was that it involved needles and one could get AIDS from them, which made her wonder if John had some sort of death wish.

John finished his cigarette and dropped the spent butt into the ashtray. "American Airlines Flight #147 to New York LaGuardia is now boarding. First class passengers please line up at the desk", said the flight attendant at the booth.

Nika followed her father on board the plane and was still as John put on her seatbelt. She nodded in thanks and took out her paperback copy of the Aeneid and began to read. John raised an eyebrow at her reading material but said nothing as he took out a guidebook to Italy. Nika vaguely heard the in flight safety announcements as she concentrated on reading Virgil, the Latin words familiar as an old blanket.

John looked over at his daughter and frowned when he saw the Latin, the dead language nearly incomprehensible. Her curly dark head was bent over the book and her blue eyes intense in her pale face. The look on her face reminded him of when he was writing or performing music, which made him smile since it was another thing they had in common.

"We are now approaching New York LaGuardia airport. Please put your seats and trays in the upright and secure position and fasten your seatbelts", said the pilot over the PA.

Nika followed John off the plane and was glad that her grandparents were there. "Hello, Grandma and Grandpa", she said solemnly.

"Hi Nika. John, I made your favorite meatballs and later I'm going to boil the spaghetti", said Gail, hugging him.

"I guess I can skip the macrobiotic diet for the next few weeks. But that doesn't mean I'll start eating McDonald's", he joked.

"I like macrobiotic food, I've never had spaghetti and meatballs", said Nika.

"You're in for a treat, Nika. That was my favorite food growing up, Mom makes the best meatballs", said John eagerly.

Nika watched as the bags slowly moved around the carousel. "This is dumb", she muttered.

"I know, but we'll get the bags sooner or later", said John.

They finally got the bags and followed John Sr. to the garage below. "Our house isn't too far from here, the planes are annoying but it's convenient", he said.

Nika raised an eyebrow when she saw the trim blue house in a residential neighborhood in Queens. "I grew up here, this was our grandparents' house and then Dad inherited it", said John.

"John, you're staying in your old room and Nika is staying in the guestroom", said Gail.

"Do you have a garden? Grandmere and Pepere had a big garden in England, Great Uncle Ian grows white roses", said Nika.

"Yes, but we have tomato vines and some herbs. We also grow azaleas and morning glories", said Gail.

"Pepere had tulips, snapdragons, poppies and a cherry tree. Great Uncle Ian only grows white roses because he's from Yorkshire", she replied.

"Wow, I don't think any of those grow in Palm Spring or in the Hollywood Hills, only stuff that grows is cactus and palm trees", said John.

Nika followed John into the house and looked about. She recognized the small plaster religious statues atop the TV and the portrait of Jesus holding a flaming Sacred Heart, her eyes going wide in delight when she saw the photo of a ruined Roman temple on the mantel. "That's a Roman building in Benevento, it also has an arch by Trajan", said John. Sr.

"Ohh, I want to see it!", she squealed.

"Most towns in Italy have some kind of Roman ruins, the locals don't pay attention to them. According to Nonno, the local people used to graze their goats near the arch", said John.

"Then they're stupid", said Nika in distaste.