The Lanzi Vi

Giancarlo Gabbrielli

Description

Book V: With the family finally reunited in Winnipeg, Roberto leaves his job at Bristol to start a business of his own. With his wife’s support he hurls himself into the adventure, borrows money from a bank and builds a small complex where he intend to move his Atelier and also rent the extra spaces to quality shops. By 1969, he has become a well known figure in the community. But changes soon occurs and the ever growing interest rates and the nervousness of the bank cause him to sell his ‘dream house’. Now, nothing can keep him in Winnipeg. But not all is lost as he now knows he’ll succeed in Toronto.
Book VI: Roberto moves to Toronto determined to succeed on his own terms. With some local financing he opens a warehouse and showroom for finely crafted items. His new venture quickly takes off. When his Italian product is copied and underpriced by Chinese factories, he goes to China to combine Italian designs with less expensive Chinese manufacturing. Once again betrayal lurks in the shadows but this time Roberto knows how to foil his adversaries. He discovers his dear friend is dying, he meets him and reminisces about the shared past. After several, profound and honest conversations Roberto returns to the Arno River to reflect where he began his life journey. He finds peace.

Sujets

• Suspenso
• Sequel
• Suite d'une ?uvre
• Suspense
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse
• Date de parution: 23 avril 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9798823006934
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Lanzi VI
 
And the River Replies
 
 
 
 
 
Giancarlo Gabbrielli
 
 

 
AuthorHouse™
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© 2023 Giancarlo Gabbrielli. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse 04/21/2023
 
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0694-1 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0693-4 (e)
 
 
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
THE LANZIS SAGA
(BOOK VI)
CONTENTS
Chapter I: Another departure
Chapter II: Stop in Minneapolis
Chapter III: Rhonda
Chapter IV: Rhonda at the warehouse
Chapter V: Visit to Winnipeg
Chapter VI: 1975 – The Milan Fair – Tuscany
Chapter VII: 1978 – The rented house
Chapter VIII: 1985 – The Chinese dawn
Chapter IX: 1985 – Bassano, a sad discovery
Chapter X: 1987 – The Chinese venture
Chapter XI: 1986 – Discovering Hong Kong
Chapter XII: 1987 – Guangzhou
Chapter XIII: The new house
Chapter XIV: The mega order
Chapter XV: 1990 – The Idex trick
Chapter XVI: 1990 – The new warehouse
Chapter XVII: 1990 – New prospective
Chapter XVIII: 1991 – Nika & the fireworks
Chapter XIX: 1991 – A letter from Nika
Chapter XX: 1991 – Back home & Nika’s reply
Chapter XXI: 1991 – Delta’s new partner
Chapter XXII: The ‘Grappa’ challenge
Chapter XXIII: Meeting Nika
Chapter XXIV: 1992 – The Chicago meeting
Chapter XXV: Globex, business with Saul
Chapter XXVI: Father and son
Chapter XXVII: A call from the past
Chapter XXVIII: Supper in Trieste
Chapter XXIX: Cologne
Chapter XXX: The Italian offer
Chapter XXXI: The new facility
Chapter XXXII: The scam
Chapter XXXIII: Rino’s game with Piero
Chapter XXXIV: The buy back
Chapter XXXV: Mauro’s news
Chapter XXXVI: The old friend
Chapter XXXVII: With Mauro again
Chapter XXXVIII: Rino’s call
Chapter XXXIX: The last goodbye
I
Another departure
I t was the 13th of March 1974.
An important day; the one Roberto Lanzi had established for his new departure. A decisive new start, since he would leave Winnipeg — perhaps forever — to settle in Toronto. Given the excellent results at the Fair he had attended in January, he thought his initiatives and hard work would be more fruitful there. Decisive, but certainly less dramatic decision than that of ten years before when he had left his own Country to emigrate to Canada, leaving behind relatives and friends.
That day too had been a thirteen; 13 th of August 1964, to be exact.
This time again, initially, his wife Silvia would remain behind to take care of the interests left in Winnipeg. Now however, he would be closer to her and the children. This thought stole a smile from him because, in such a vast country, the adverb ‘closer’ was a relative term. In fact, Toronto was more than two thousand kilometers away. Too many, Roberto thought, but by plane it only took a little more than two hours to breach the distance.
This day though, he would go with his minivan loaded with clothes, sheets, blankets, pillows, work tools and many other things, called junk by his wife, but for him indispensable to one’s life: books, letters, photographs, some records and other inevitable objects linked to old, dear memories.
Silvia had decided to accompany him on the long journey by car, to help him settle in a small apartment and then return by plane. The usual babysitter, a reliable person considered ‘family’, would take care of nine years old Riccardo, or Rico as he preferred to be called, and Elena, now four.
Joanna, who had been helping Silvia for many years, would take care of the store.
A friend suggested a United States route instead of the Trans Canada Highway. “It’s a bit longer” he told him, “but the road is better and therefore faster. And then the gas is less expensive.”
Roberto concurred, checked the course and realized his only concern would be crossing Chicago at rush hour.
“I know that city a bit but I’ve never drove through the center” he told Silvia “the traffic could be awful. You’ll have to be my navigator.”
  
Before leaving he told his son:
“Rico, now you are a little man, behave well and set a good example for your little sister. Mom will be back in four or five days.”
“And what about you?” asked the child, “when will you be back Dad?”
“I don’t know exactly but I’ll be back soon and I’ll call you often.”
Roberto then raised Elena from the ground and held her to kiss her soft cheeks.
“I’m going to miss you little princess.”
He knew that hard work was waiting for him but, with Silvia at his side, he didn’t feel like he was about to undertake an impossible task. He was confident because, even though those nine years spent in Manitoba hadn’t been as profitable as hoped, they had nevertheless served to learn things that in the fertile business environment of Ontario would be more rewarding. Now, he looked back at the time spent in Winnipeg, weeks, months, years, as spaces between dreams, between the ‘now’ and the future, a tide of minor, yet necessary steps to reach his yet invisible goals.
Of course there would also be some drawbacks: Toronto wouldn’t be like Winnipeg, where through his well established shops and prominent friends, he enjoyed a certain prestige. No more close friendship with Maestro Piero Gamba, no more visit by Pavarotti; from a big fish in a small lake, he would now become a small, ordinary and anonymous one.
That was fine with him, as he had never craved status. But, since he had grown in a small Italian town, he just wondered how long it would take him to become accustomed to the size, traffic and hectic life of a metropolis.
Somehow he had to create his own small world.
Although he knew that until Silvia and the children could join him in Toronto he would often return to Winnipeg, this for him remained a definitive departure. As he was driving southward, he thought of the many friends he was leaving behind again. Fortunately, along with his experiences, his cherished memories were going with him.
“What are you laughing about?” Silvia asked as they passed in front of the “Pony Corral.”
“I was thinking how much the kids liked to eat there.”
“Yes, especially the strawberry cake and the Pecan Pie.”
“Do you remember how Elena used to mess herself by eating with her hands?”
“And you laughed like crazy instead of scolding her.”
They were silent for a while, each closed in the realm of their memories. Then Silvia asked:
“Do you want me to open the map?”
“There’s no need yet, thanks. From here to Minneapolis, it’s all straight drive. We can’t go wrong.”
“Where do we cross the border?”
“At Emerson, and let’s hope the American cow boys don’t get too excited when they see our load.”
“Why would they get excited? It’s not like we have forbidden goods.”
“I know, but I wouldn’t want to download everything to prove it. As you know, and I’m not trying to be sarcastic, Americans tend to take things a bit too seriously.”
“Don’t start worrying now, but tell me, are we going to stop before getting to Minneapolis.”
“Yes, of course, we’ll stop to eat something at Gran Forks or Fargo, so we can see with our own eyes why so many Winnipeggers travel more than three hundred kilometers to get there.”
“You already know why. To save money on purchases.”
“Is it economical to travel hundreds of kilometers, cross the border twice, and spend what they saved in gasoline? And it’s not that the panorama is more interesting than that of Manitoba.”
“Come on, stop complaining, and let’s try to enjoy the journey. See if your glass is half full this time instead of half empty.”
“After all the years we know each other” Roberto replied a bit crossed, “I am surprised that you still don’t understand why my glass is half empty. Mine is not a pessimistic attitude, believe me, it’s not a negative view of the world.”
“What is it then?”
“It’s the thought that if the glass can hold twice as much liquid, we might as well fill it. Why settle for half-measures?”
“I’m not sure I understand you, but let’s talk about something else. What’s Minneapolis like?”
Roberto did not answer her immediately. He was looking ahead, at the flat ocean of snow-covered land, here and there interrupted by barns, silos and farm-houses protected from north winds by rows of fir trees. Kilometers of absolute uniform monotony and a whiteness that on the horizon merged with the sky. And there were still more than a hundred kilometers before a town.
“Minneapolis?” he repeated.
“Yes, what is it like? You have been there, did you like it?”
“I have a good memory of it.” Then adding, “And a less pleasant one.”
“How ‘unusual’… and now what do you laugh about?”
“I’ll start from the less pleasant one” said Roberto skipping on the last question.
“It was when you had to go back to Italy to bury your father. I went there with Fabio to listen to Pavarotti who had to sing in a couple of operas at the Minnesota Opera Center. We had even written him a letter reminding him of the meeti