The Witch of Little Italy (10 page)

But now she’s back again and I’m faced with the same dilemma. I wish George were still here. Something tells me he’d know what to do. He’d tell me to keep her safe, no matter what.

I will, George. I will. Third time’s the charm, right? She was here when she was ten, then for a moment at thirteen, and now. Three visits.

I’ve kept Babygirl safe all these years. In the end I failed George, but I refuse to fail this girl. Just plain refuse.

8

The Sisters Amore

“If you’re going to live with me, you’re going to go to church,” said Mimi. All three old ladies were sitting at the kitchen table wearing black and pointing crooked fingers at Elly.

“I will not,” she said, her arms crossed in front of her like a child.

“Yes you
will,
” said Mimi with Fee and Itsy nodding right along.

“Every day?”

Mimi snorted. “Don’t be a smartass. Just Sunday. You’ll have to come on Sundays.”

“But I don’t believe in all that crap. It will be like lying. I won’t go. You can’t make me.”

“You will go,” said Mimi and Fee in unison.

Itsy scribbled a note and gave it to Elly.

You could always just
go
you know. Nothing is
forcing
you to stay here.

The frustration of everything welled up inside of Elly. So much had changed in such a short period of time. And now the perfect refuge was shaken all akimbo with this weird religious twist and one of the aunts actually asking her, in so many words, to
leave
.

“Ah! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you and you … You
are
crazy! And I was crazy for coming here. Carmen was right!” she screamed and then ran into the hallway and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She skidded on the bath mat and her knees slammed down hard against the black-and-white octagonal tile. Tears came unbidden and soon she was crying so hard the phlegm choked her. She hugged the clean toilet basin and heaved up a heavy breakfast. She heard the door click and open, and then shut as rubber-soled shoes squeaked across the tile. The water in the tub turned on.

It was Mimi. Elly knew it without even turning around. She recalled the exact same moment years ago. Babygirl, the child she’d been but couldn’t remember being, ran away from them. Elly felt her grown-up self rise to the ceiling as she watched the two scenes play out.
Then
and
now
overlapping … with Elly stuck on the outside.

Babygirl didn’t want to stay in a strange place with strange people. Mimi found her shivering like a little refugee in the bathroom and proceeded to run a hot bath.

“No ill in the world a hot bath can’t cure,” she’d said to the child.

Elly got into the tub without a fight. The hot water brought her slowly down from the ceiling and back into her body. Soon she was letting Mimi kneel over and scrub her with a white washcloth and Ivory soap.

“I remember this. You giving me a bath,” she said with her eyes closed. “I was strong then, wasn’t I, Mimi?”

“You still are. I see these bruises, Elly, like I saw them in your palm. Such strength you have.”

“I don’t feel strong.”

“That’s how it feels when we are at our strongest. It’s when we feel safe enough to notice our weakness. You left him. That took some kind of strength.” Mimi was lathering Elly’s scalp.

“I remembered being baptized,” said Elly, as Mimi’s hands soothed the wild pain inside.

“Well, that’s good,” said Fee, barging in with a booming voice and a pile of clean, fluffy white towels. She sat on the toilet seat. Itsy followed and sat on the edge of the tub. She had a plastic freezer bag full of rose petals and she reached in, sprinkling a handful out into the bathwater.

“She’s saying she’s sorry,” said Mimi.

Elly didn’t need The Sight to hear the apology. It was in the scent the hot water released from the frozen petals.

A comfortable silence fell between all of them punctuated by drips and splooshes of water.

“I miss my mother,” Babygirl said so long ago.

“I miss my mother,” cried Elly in the tub.

“What do you want, love? I’ll do what I can to ease this for you.” Mimi used the same words in the present that she had in the past.

“I want to cut my hair,” said Elly.

“No. You mustn’t cut your princess hair!” said Fee.

“There’s so much power in our hair, good and bad. It holds onto things don’t you know,” said Mimi, helping her out of the tub while her aunts wrapped her in the towels. She felt like an Indian princess emerging from a pool of jasmine water.

“I’m relieved you didn’t want what you wanted when you were just a little bit of a thing,” said Mimi.

“What did I want back then?”

“You asked me to bring you back to your mother. And I couldn’t do that.” said Mimi.

“Why not?” asked Elly.

She’d lost her mind,
wrote Itsy.

Mimi grabbed the note, crumpled it, and threw it in the tin garbage can under the sink.

“Never mind all that,” said Mimi. “Instead of cutting your hair, why not let us play with it? Maybe a new hairstyle?”

The women moved her into Mimi’s bedroom. Elly marveled at the simple beauty. They sat her at Mimi’s dressing table. A replica of Carmen’s only not as cluttered. Itsy leaned forward and took some of the front of Elly’s hair, twisting it and snipping it with a scissor right in front of Elly’s eyes.

“I thought we weren’t cutting it?” she asked.

“We’re not,” said Mimi, gathering up the rest and twirling it into a damp knot at the top of her head.

“If you put it up when it’s a little wet, it gets all wavy and nice for the rest of the week!” said Fee.

It’s a shame she didn’t have children of her own,
thought Elly.

Itsy pulled out the new wisps of hair created by the angled bangs.

“Windswept and romantic, that’s what Mama used to call this hairstyle,” said Mimi.

Itsy moved away and Elly looked at herself in the mirror.

“Yes, windswept and romantic indeed,” she said, feeling lovely.

Later she tried to put on her hat, but it wouldn’t fit over the bun.

“You don’t need it anymore,” said Mimi as they were leaving for church.

Elly wasn’t so sure about that.

*   *   *

“I think I did it wrong. He gave me a funny look,” whispered Elly in the pew after she returned from receiving Holy Communion. The Amores had their own pew, on the “Mary” side of the church up front, three rows in. It had a bronze plaque on it that said, “Amore: 1945.”

“Did you spit it back at him?” asked Fee, too loud as always and the priest turned to look at them.

Mimi laughed into her handkerchief.

“They’re the most irreverent of religious women. The priest puts up with it though. They give so much money,” Anthony whispered from behind her.

The whole experience was tolerable for Elly. Enjoyable, even. It made her feel more than a little silly for throwing a fit and exposing her bruises to Mimi. But Mimi seemed to take it in stride, and having it out in the open was a relief.

The church itself was comforting to her artist’s eyes. Unapologetic ornate design, blasts of proud reds and virginal blues. Decadent stained glass windows dappling everyone in moving prisms of color. And people seemed to know her. Waved at her. She even saw Liz walk by in the line to get communion. She held up her hand to the side of her face signaling that she would call.

Elly had a wave of nausea before the Mass ended, and Mimi told her to wait in the front foyer of the church. It was peaceful there with the flickering candles next to the saints. The heavy front doors propped open to let in some of the cold, refreshing breeze.

“Hey!” said Liz, surprising Elly.

“Hey back,” said Elly, still unsure about how to react to this “friend.”

“You escaped, huh?” said Liz with laughter in her eyes.

“I felt a little sick.”

Liz gave Elly a hug and pulled away leaving her hands on Elly’s shoulders. “Word on the street is you don’t remember much of that summer you lived here. So I guess I’m coming out of thin air, right?”

“Sort of—” said Elly, relieved by the truth.

“Don’t worry,” said Liz. “We’ll catch up.”

“Who are you talking to?” Mimi interrupted, the aunts looking accusing on either side of her.

“You remember Liz, don’t you Mimi?” asked Elly.

“Oh yes, Liz, of course!” she said with a smile.

Fee put her hand over her mouth to stifle a loud laugh.

Itsy walked out of the church and a burst of wind blew in behind her.

Elly turned back to Liz to apologize for her family’s bizarre reaction, but she wasn’t there.

*   *   *

On returning from church, the inhabitants of 170th Street walked into the building single file. Mimi first, then Itsy, Fee, and Elly. Anthony brought up the rear. As they entered the front hall, Anthony pulled Elly back against him and whispered, “Hold on,” against her neck.

The aunts and Mimi parted like a riptide into their respective apartments, Sunday dinner high on their minds.

Anthony put his arms around Elly’s middle and pulled her back into him. He leaned against the wall, holding her close, his head buried in the nape of her neck. Elly pressed against him, leaning her head against his shoulder, his protective arms wrapped around her. The sun dipped and began to pour into the hall through the open front door. Its honey light crept across the gray walls until it coated them.

As Elly melted into Anthony, she shut her now teary eyes, smiling as her body relaxed and began to trust his embrace. Years of pain and doubt began to move away from her as the sun stretched higher on the walls, piercing her closed eyes and bursting tears into tiny spots of glitter.

As the pain left, a hole, deep and black, opened inside of Elly. The pit of her stomach started to hurt. She bent over his arms, tears coming harder now. Anthony held her tighter, talking. He was talking to her, “Shhhh Elly, shhh it’s okay. You’re okay.
We’re
okay.”

Elly opened her eyes and stiffened her back. “Get off of me.”

“Elly, please…”

“
Get off of me,
oh please…” Elly begged him as she scratched at his hands. “Let me go.”

Anthony refused to let go. “I can’t … I won’t.”

“You have to!” She pulled against his hands with full force and freed herself from his embrace. She didn’t look back, just ran into Mimi’s apartment and closed the door. She pressed her body against the door and whispered, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Anthony knocked at the door, “Let me in, Elly. Please?”

“What did you do to him?” asked Mimi from behind her. Elly jumped. “What? Did I surprise you? It’s my apartment you know.”

Elly looked at her grandmother and tried to get out the words she wanted to say, tried to ask for advice. Tried to ask for a potion, a bit of magic to stop the dark hole from spreading inside of her.

“I’m disappearing,” was all she could manage to choke out before she ran into the back garden.

Mimi got up and opened the door for Anthony, who was knocking relentlessly.

“Where did she go?”

Mimi pointed toward the back. “You might not find her,” she said. “She thinks she’s disappearing.”

“I never wanted to hurt her, Mimi.”

“Love hurts. Now … now you know what it’s like … now you get to make the decision.”

“What decision, Mimi?”

“To follow her or to run away.”

Anthony followed Elly’s trail through the apartment.

“That’s right,” said Mimi to herself. “He doesn’t run away, that boy. He stays.”

“Elly?” He found her sitting on the bench.

“I’m disappearing. You can’t love me, I’m not here,” Elly whispered.

He sat next to her. “Elly,
you are not
disappearing. It’s the part of you that needs to go that’s going. You’ll still be here when it’s gone.”

Elly leaned over and put her head between her knees. “It
hurts,
” she cried. “Oh God, it hurts so much.”

Anthony stood up. “Come with me.”

Elly shook her head “no” between her knees.

“Come on, take my hand…”

Elly looked up, the sun obscured all but his shadow. A dark space just like hers. She got up and placed her hand in his. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going back in time.”

He walked fast in the late winter sun, her small hand swallowed up by his. Warm. She wanted her whole body to feel like that. They walked for a few blocks in silence and then arrived at a playground. Empty in the early winter twilight.

“We played here,” she said.

It was a small square playground surrounded by barren trees. There was a swing set, a massive domed metal jungle gym, a slide, and a basketball court. All of it bathed in slightly muted light as the sun set, too early.

“Princess Babygirl, would you like a ride on the royal swing?” he asked, extending his arm toward the swing set.

Elly sat down on a swing, the cold metal chains smooth against her palms.

“Want a push?” he asked.

And then she was flying, flying into the evening, trying to touch her toes to the tree branches, black against a purple sky. And Anthony was on the swing next to her, flying, too. Laughing.

There was power in the controlled flight. Elly remembered being small and finding the perfect point at which to let go and let her body arc through the sky before landing on the ground. She almost released her grip. Her body jerked back, Anthony pulled on her swing before she had a chance to jump.

“Not today, Elly,” he said. “You could hurt the baby.”

The baby.
Reality slammed back into her.

They swung gently back and forth. A comfortable silence settled between them.

She looked at him with a sideways glace. “Anthony?”

“Princess?”

“He hit me.”

“He won’t anymore,” said Anthony.

“I let him,” said Elly, wiping away more infuriating tears.

“You were afraid.”

“I’m afraid now.”

Anthony pulled her swing around and locked his legs around hers so that they couldn’t swing apart. “Yes, but the difference is
I’m
never going to hurt you.”