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in particular don't like it—so, there might be some bad feelings, all the money they spent tryin' to put a guy away who ain't even around anymore. They got fuckin' nothin', they got no case . . . So, they could, like, bust your balls for a little while, they want to, but the lawyer says in the end, they'll probably forget about it. Still, they could be hangin' aroun' your neck for a while, and that, you don't need. Right?"

"Right," said Tommy.

"So, here's the thing . . . I was thinkin' maybe you should take a nice trip somewheres . . . For a couple years. Take a nice trip down there, the Caribbean. Take the girlfriend. You hang around the beach, get yourself a suntan. Maybe, when you're down there, you wanta look a few places over. You see some nice little shack onna beach somewhere, it's gotta few chairs, a bar, right onna beach there . . . you give me a call. You know how to call me. I send you down a few bucks, you can start your own place."

"Charlie, that's awful nice a you," started Tommy, "but—"

"No, no, no . . ." said Charlie. "It's not like that. You don't owe me nothin'. I'm talkin' about some mom-and-pop type a' place, you serve a few pina coladas to the tourists when you're not out gettin' a tan. This'll be your place and yours alone. You won't owe me nothin'. You manage to make yourself some money, good for you . . . You lose money, also good. No obligation."

Charlie reached across the small table and took Tommy's hand. "You see, kid, you'd be doin' me a favor. We gotta get you outta town. You see? There ain't gonna be any problems with the law, but some of the fellows don't feel too good you walkin' around seein' what you seen. Skinny and Victor and Danny, they get to talkin' with the lawyers and you know, with that case comin up . . . Skinny and Victor's case . . . Well . . . I know how these guys think. You gotta get outta town. It's better for you, it's better for me. You unnerstan' what I'm sayin' to you here?"

"I understand," said Tommy.

"So, is that gonna be alright with you? I give you a few bucks, you go downa beach for a while? Start up a little joint down there, look at the waves, scratch your balls under a palm tree? That don't sound too bad to me . . . Somebody offer that kinda thing to me, I was your age, I woulda grabbed it with both hands. Whaddaya say?"

"That sounds fine, Charlie," said Tommy. "That sounds great."

"Well, alright," said Charlie, slapping his palm on the table. He refilled their glasses with wine and held his up to Tommy. "Salud," he said.

"Salud," said Tommy.

"See, I knew there was a solution to everybody's problems. Just do me a favor, okay? Don't tell your mother I'm involved. You make it sound like it was your idea. Tell her you been savin' up. I'd appreciate it."

"Sure, sure," said Tommy. "No sweat."

"Maybe we can get her down there for a weekend over the holidays or somethin'."

"That would be great," said Tommy.

"Okay. That's that. . . Now eat your fuckin' veal chop."

A NOTE ON THE AUTHOR

Anthony Bourdain is the author of Kitchen Confidential

and Gone Bamboo. He is the executive chef at Brasserie

Les Halles in New York City.