The novel ‘A Woman between Two Men’, with an Albanian-American Theme, is authored by Carrie Hooper and Skifter Këllici
Mary, who until then, had been listening attentively, asked, “Why was he a great Albanian?”
Ralph’s words struck Charlie and Wilma, too.
“You don’t know about him because you and Charlie were children in 1989 when the things I am going to tell you happened,” said Ralph. “Wilma was also very young.”
Filled with curiosity, Charlie, Wilma, and Mary fixed their eyes on Ralph.
“Like other Albanians who came here, Loni settled in San Diego in 1985. I didn’t know him. One afternoon, when I was getting ready to leave the station where I worked as an officer, I saw a middle-aged man, the owner of a pizzeria near our building. He approached me and handed me a tightly sealed plastic bag. It was Loni Germeni. As he himself explained, he had seen it when he was throwing garbage into a bin behind his shop, and he had picked it up.”
“It probably contained explosives. Loni prevented a tragedy by bringing it to you,” Charlie cut in.
“Don’t get ahead of me!”
“Was there money in the bag?”
“Yes, Charlie. A lot of money.”
“Anyone else would have ripped open the bag and would have kept all that money,” Charlie said, and his eyes twinkled behind his glasses.
“But he didn’t,” said Ralph. “As I said, he dropped the bag off at the station when I happened to be on duty. I called a colleague and a specialist. Indeed, it could also have had explosives. Loni was tense. After all, this was serious business. When he saw us, he said, `Don’t worry. There’s probably money in there. I recognize money when I see it. After all, I handle it every day when my customers pay me.`”
Mary held her breath with curiosity. “Did the bag really have money?” she asked.
“$750,000 in hundred dollar bills,” said Ralph.
Everyone cried out with surprise. Even Mary’s eyes lit up.
“What honesty!” said Wilma.
“Indeed!” said Ralph. “That’s why the newspapers as well as the radio and television stations not only here in San Diego, but all over California and the US considered this an extraordinary and honorable act.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this remarkable story before, Ralph?” asked Wilma.
“It hadn’t come up,” said Ralph. “And it happened many years ago before we were married.”
“He’s a good example for all of us,” said Wilma.
“Especially for us Americans,” Ralph added. “He was an Albanian immigrant who risked his life and his son, Kreshnik’s life to come to America. That same Kreshnik is now in a cell at the station. Surprising, but, unfortunately, true.”
“The people of the Balkans and surely the Albanians have an old saying: `roses produce thorns.`, said Charlie.
“And thorns produce roses,” said Ralph. “But this is nothing compared to Loni’s true act of heroism. It happened one summer day in 1990.”
The three of them eagerly waited for Ralph to continue.
“Loni’s son, Kreshnik, was ten. His American friend, James, worked with him at the pizzeria. James told me later that he, Loni, and Kreshnik waited at a bus stop for their bus home. A police unit was after some masked robbers who had attempted to rob the main cash register at a large supermarket. San Diego Police Headquarters told me to go there as soon as possible. I went with some other officers. Suddenly, gunfire erupted near the bus station, not far from the supermarket. Loni and James quickly turned their heads toward the sound and saw a policeman with a revolver, following one of the masked robbers. Loni took little Kreshnik’s hand and together with James, they ran and hid in a large food store. The people on the sidewalks also sought refuge wherever they could. The bandit, pursued by the police, hid behind a large tree trunk. The policeman who followed him could not see him. He stopped near the tree and looked around. Just then, the thief, who had lost his revolver during the attempted robbery, pulled a knife from his belt and attacked the policeman from behind. They both fell.”
Ralph Kallagan paused for a moment as if he were piecing together the threads of this story which he seemed to be reliving.
“Although I was far away from them,” Ralph continued, “I saw the robber attack the officer and point his knife at him. The officer tried to grab the robber’s hand. Loni saw everything through the shop’s window. He could not just stand by and do nothing. He left his son with James, who, as he told me later, tried to stop him. But it was no use. Loni practically flew toward the robber. He grabbed his hand so hard that he dropped his knife and started to hit him. Meanwhile, one of the other robbers approached him and shot him in the back. Loni fell and remained motionless. Just then, the policeman, whom Loni had saved, though he lay on the ground, shot and killed the robber. At that moment, I arrived with other officers. We surrounded the robbers and forced them to surrender.”
Ralph paused again, as if telling this story exhausted him.
“James, the child he held by the hand, and I rushed to where Loni lay. The officers followed us, including the policeman whose life Loni had saved. I turned Loni’s body. He barely opened his eyes. `Daddy, why aren’t you getting up?` the little boy sobbed. He reached out his hands and touched Loni’s face. Loni barely opened his eyes but tried to smile. `Daddy, let’s get out of here,` the boy stammered as tears streamed down his cheeks. `James, you are my best friend,` was all Loni could whisper. `I told you before, if anything happens to me, raise Kreshnik as your son.` `What are you talking about, Daddy!` the boy cried. Meanwhile, two nurses got out of an ambulance that had just arrived. James and I helped them put Loni in the ambulance and kept the boy with us. He did not stop crying. Loni died that night in the hospital.”
After he finished his story, Ralph sighed, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his burning lips.
“That’s what happened to Loni, Kreshnik Germeni’s father,” he sighed. “That event caused quite a sensation. An Albanian immigrant showed his honesty by turning in hundreds of thousands of dollars he found in a trash bin. One year later, he gave his life to prevent a robber from killing a policeman. They wrote about him in the papers. They talked about him on the radio and on TV.”
Ralph was silent for a moment and shook his head with sadness.
“Did you ever see that Albanian’s son again?” Mary asked, holding her breath.
Ralph appeared to choke up. “I was part of a delegation from the San Diego police department that attended Loni’s funeral. I saw Loni’s son with James. I took him in my arms, held his little hands, put his head on my chest, and kissed him tenderly.”
He shrugged his shoulders and felt torn.
“The truth is,” he continued, his voice flat, “at that time, I had promised James I would see to Kreshnik’s upbringing and education. I’m ashamed to say, I don’t know what became of that little boy. And now I see him again after all these years.”
For a moment, Ralph’s rough face looked pitiful.
“Please, Ralph, let’s not talk about it anymore,” said Mary nonchalantly. “I don’t remember what I said during those chaotic moments outside the restaurant, but the truth is, Kreshnik wanted to tell me something. He was not coming on to me.”
Charlie quickly turned to Mary and looked at her crosseyed.
“Well, Mary,” said Wilma. “Your statements will help the suspect, especially if he was drunk.”
“The fact that Kreshnik is the son of an honorable Albanian who became a martyr means we are obligated to help him,” said Mary. “Not that I want to protect him. I get queasy just thinking about him.”
She screwed up her mouth.
“But for the sake of his father’s memory,” she continued, “I am prepared to drop all charges against him. Let him spend a few days in jail and be done with it.”
“I agree with Mary,” said Wilma.
Charlie was shocked by Wilma’s and especially by Mary’s words, but he was even more shocked when Mary said, “I would also like to mention that two months ago, a robber attacked me when I was coming out of a silver shop in Del Mar Beach and took my bag in which I carried a special necklace. It was Kreshnik who pursued the robber, caught him, and fought him. Although the robber threatened him with a knife, Kreshnik forced him to drop the bag and flee.”
Ralph was stunned.
“I had wanted to introduce you to him since you, Wilma, and I were staying in a hotel on the beach. I’m sure you would have congratulated him for his good deed. But Kreshnik did not want that.”
“Why?” asked Ralph.
“Because he was afraid to face you after the incident at the cafe when he was drunk.”
Mary’s story made Charlie numb.
“Maybe he was brave,” Charlie hissed with condemnation. “But I’m surprised at you, Mary, and at Wilma!”
The two women were stunned.
“I’m sure you know that in every courtroom it is written: `Everyone is equal before the law.` Therefore, regardless of the fact his father, as Ralph mentioned, was an Albanian worthy of respect, Kreshnik must be punished. Don’t I have the right to think that, Ralph?”
Ralph Kallagan seemed speechless.
“I’d rather close this case, Charlie,” said Ralph, leaving him stunned. “Tomorrow morning, before I finish my shift, I will warn Kreshnik not to drink anymore or cause any more disturbances like the one today. Otherwise …”
Ralph froze. Charlie’s eyes widened. Wilma looked at Mary and noticed a faint glow on her cheeks. (Continues)
Click here for Part-1, Part-2, Part-3, Part-4, Part-5, Part-6, Part-7, Part-8, Part-9, Part-10, Part-11, Part-12,
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About the Authors
Carrie Hooper was born and raised in Elmira, New York. She has been blind since birth. She received a B.A. in vocal performance from Mansfield University, Mansfield, Pennsylvania. She went on to receive an M.A. in German and an M.A. in vocal performance from the State University of New York at Buffalo. After completing her studies, she spent a year at the Royal University College of Music in Stockholm, Sweden as a Fulbright scholar. Carrie currently lives in Elmira, New York. She taught German, Italian, and Romanian at Elmira College. She has a passion for foreign languages and in addition to the languages mentioned above, she is also proficient in Swedish, Spanish, and Albanian. Music also plays an important role in Carrie’s life. She teaches voice and piano lessons, gives vocal concerts, plays the piano and organ at a church, and sings in a community chorus. Carrie not only loves music and languages, but also enjoys poetry. She has published three books: “Piktura në fjalë” (“Word Paintings”), a bilingual collection of poetry (Albanian-English), “My Life in My Words”, and “Away from Home.” She has also translated texts from Albanian and Romanian to English.
Skifter Këllici was born in Tirana, Albania and received a diploma in history and literature from the University of Tirana. He worked as a journalist, scholar, and sportscaster on radio and television. He is the author of several novels and nonfiction books, including the children’s books, “Memories of the Old Neighborhood” and “In the Footsteps” as well as the historical novels, “Assassination in Paris”, “The Murderer with the White Hands”, and “September Disaster.” He wrote the screenplay for “In the Footsteps” which won a special prize at the International Children’s Film Festival in Giffoni, Italy in 1979. He has lived in Boston, Massachusetts since 1999.
[The book ‘Disastrous September is being reproduced in episodes with the consent of the author]
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