The Witch of Little Italy (16 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Palmieri

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Historical, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: The Witch of Little Italy
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But he left me a gift. I placed my hands to my belly and knew. I knew she was in there. Her fate? Uncertain. But not defined. There was hope. Yes. For a little while I had hope.

 

17

Babygirl

 

She found the hiding place while playing sardines. It was a game Uncle George taught them. Well, he taught Babygirl and Anthony … Liz didn’t like sardines, so she always went home when they wanted to play.

Babygirl was sure Anthony liked to play so he could place tiny kisses on her cheeks while they waited for George to find them. Uncle George was an old man but he sure knew some fun games. Sardines was a backward type of hide-and-seek. In sardines, one person hides and the rest have to find them. When you find the hider you stay in the hiding place and wait for the rest of the people to find you.

A game like sardines is scary, not so much for the hider but for the seekers. It’s scary because you lose your companions and the whole world creeps up quiet and you slowly realize you’re going to stumble upon a secret place where everyone will jump out at you. And then, when you are the very last seeker, you start to wonder if you’re the only person in the world. If the hiding place somehow sucked up the players and the last one has to decide to run away or get sucked up, too.

And the hiders, it’s kind of scary for them, too, because where they decide to hide needs to be very dark and they have to be very quiet. The world can disappear for them, too.

Babygirl was the best hider of all. Anthony always hid in obvious places and Uncle George was quite good at it but he was big. Bigger than his mind thought he ought to be, so parts of him always stuck out, making him easy to find.

The apartment building was a good place to play. It had hallways and closets and room after room. And then, by accident, while hiding under Uncle George’s bed, Babygirl found the door. A small door, just her size.

She pulled it open by its little wooden knob, and there it was in front of her, a small incline and then another larger door. A clandestine entrance to the attic. The supersecret hiding place was behind that larger door. A little dormer made out of the rafters, big enough for a few child-sized people, or one grown-up person. Babygirl hid there when she was tired of the game, because no one ever found her. She’d hide there until she could sense the others had quit out of frustration and moved onto other things.

One day as she climbed out of her supersecret spot, Babygirl noticed a shaft of light illuminating one of the many steamer trunks that lined the back of the attic under the eaves. She went to it and tried lifting the top, but it was locked.

Ready for a treasure, she raced down the stairs to Aunty Fee and Itsy’s apartment. Tiptoeing by Fee who was cooking in the kitchen, she could have stomped but she didn’t (being extra quiet was making the sudden secret even
more
fun).

She went into Itsy’s bedroom and took a hairpin off the porcelain jewelry tray on the bureau. She crept back past Fee and ran back up the stairs to the attic. She closed the door behind her. The sun was brighter and thicker now, the trunk practically glowed and throbbed in the light.

She placed the pin in the lock, felt for the catch and turned … click, it released. A trunk full of linens. The air that came out was at first stale, then lovely … earth and lavender. The smell of a well-tended garden in the springtime. Babygirl lifted the heavy sheet on top. As her hands touched the solid, cool cotton she felt a memory come. Babygirl knew this feeling. It was that dizzy wonderful feeling when she was going to see a story that didn’t belong to her. Only this story wasn’t a nice one. It was awful.

She saw a beautiful young woman cradling a small swollen belly with one hand as the other hand gathered the skirts between her legs. She was making her way through the halls of 170th Street, stopping to switch hands and leaving red, five-finger stars on the white walls.

*   *   *

Itsy, who was in the garden, looked up into the cloudless summer sky. Her jaw opened as if God himself held the crowbar. A horrible sound began to come out, a groaning rasp. And then, it was gone. Someone had found her secret … and what? Closed it up again? How odd. Or maybe it was an old woman’s head playing tricks on her in the hot sun.

*   *   *

Babygirl shook her head clear of the disturbing scene. And went in for a deeper look, but then, Anthony was at the other doorway of the attic.

“Found you!” he said, and then ran away saying, “Betcha can’t catch me.”

Babygirl let the heavy trunk slam shut and dropped the hairpin onto the floor to run, squealing with delight, outside. Treasure forgotten.

 

18

Elly

 

“It must be that apartment. I swear, Mimi, I can’t get her to leave it,” said Anthony, eating an apple and leaning against the counter as Mimi cooked.

“There’s nothing wrong with the apartment. Don’t be foolish. She’s finding herself. Piecing it all together. It’s a good thing.”

“But should I bother her? Or leave her alone?”

Mimi stopped stirring her pot and turned to face Anthony. “Do you love her?” she asked him.

“Always have,” he said.

“Then why in the world would you leave her alone?” She turned back to the stove and stirred furiously, splashing bright red sauce over most of the stove. “I mean, what kind of a crazy person with mush for brains would look into the eyes of love and ignore it? Who could do such a thing? If you love her you must go to her, you must.…”

Anthony left Mimi there making a mess. It was obvious to him that she was in some other world entirely. He had the advice he needed, anyway.

He banged on the door of 2B. “Coming!” Elly yelled.

She was covered in all sorts of paint. Her hair, pulled back under a red bandana, had paint in it, too.

“I thought you’d never come!” she said, dragging him into the apartment. “Come see!”

“I thought you didn’t want me.”

“I’ve always wanted you. Remember? Don’t be silly. Look. Look at what I’ve done! No one’s seen. Well, Liz. Lizzy’s been here almost every day! Such a love, really. Some of it was hard to remember, but some of it is wonderful! Oh Anthony … she loved me. Carmen. She really loved me. No wonder she was always so upset I didn’t remember these things. They’re fantastic.”

Anthony looked at the woman he loved. In overalls stretched tight over her growing belly. Her eyes on fire, and then, he looked at the pictures hanging on the walls. They were hung in succession, beginning at what must have been Elly’s earliest memories. She was so excited to show him she was practically jumping up and down behind him as he took a tour through her dreamlike childhood. All painted in Elly’s style, bold colors and heavy sunset skies. Carmen depicted as a goddess with silver glitter instead of paint for her eyes.

“The paintings end where my memory of her ends. When the aunts and Mimi picked me up at the hospital in Fairview. Then snippets of other things from the time being here. So I have almost everything up until the end of that summer. Those are the memories I need back.”

“You’ll get them,” he said.

“And there’s something else. A secret,” she said. “Want to see?” A childlike excitement washed over both of them. Elly took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom where they’d first made love. Now the nursery. Anthony looked around the room with wonder. A mural. The roots of a willow tree grew from the base boards as the trunk moved up the sturdy wall and the weeping branches seemed to fall down all over the room.

“It’s amazing, Elly. I can’t believe you did all this.”

“Look up!”

The sky (ceiling) went from a night sky, deep blue with golden stars through a pink and orange sunrise all the way to the light blue sky of a perfect September day. Clouds and all.

“How did you do that?”

“On a ladder! I’m a fresco restorer, remember? I’m a trained professional.”

“You could have fallen, I can’t believe you didn’t ask me to help.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t just barge on in. This is something you are going to have to get used to about me, Mister Anthony Rivetta. You are going to need to realize that when I’m working, I’m consumed. Time stands still.”

“Well, now I know … and this,” he motioned around the sunny room with his arms, “is just fantastic.”

“Well … thank you.
But
that isn’t what I wanted to show you. Look at
this.

Elly pushed aside the small bookcase and opened the little door. She led him up into the attic and showed him her secret hiding place.

“So this is where you used to hide when we couldn’t find you? Excellent spot, Elly!”

“But there’s more. It’s about a treasure. Something of value is hidden up here. I know it. I just can’t remember what it is.” Elly squinted her eyes as if trying to force the memory. “I only know I have to find it.”

Anthony looked around at the attic full of trunks, sewing forms, mobiles made of seashells from Far Rockaway clinking from the rafters. A corner with a large, old-fashioned bed that the older Amore boys used to sleep in when they were small.

“Something in a trunk maybe?” he suggested.

“Maybe—but Mimi and I looked through practically all of them to find maternity clothes. I just have to figure it out. I’ve remembered so much. I hate any dark corners,” Elly reached down and picked up a large, leather-bound book at her feet. “And look at this. I’ve been reading it up here in the mornings. I’m afraid to bring it downstairs because it’s so old, and it’s used to the air up here. It was Margaret’s.”

Elly opened the pages of the large book to reveal large pictures of plants and flowers, some real ones even pressed between the pages. And there were pretty, cursive words scrawled in the margins.

“It’s like a botanical book of shadows!” said Elly.

“It’s incredible!” said Anthony taking a closer look.

“And at the back, just look,” said Elly carefully turning the book to its back pages. “Recipes. All the ones Mimi and the aunts keep showing me. They know them by heart. But it’s this one that I think is the most interesting … See here? “The Forgetting spell.”

“Forgetting? Like … Oh yeah, with Cooper?”

“Yes. And me, too … maybe.”

“You think they cast a spell on you?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“You’ll do it,” he said.

“Maybe you can help. Tell me what you know, Anthony. Tell me what you know about The Day the Amores Died.”

“Well, I only know what most people know. But maybe that’s a little more than you. How about I tell you what I know while I show you what I love. You have to get
out
of this apartment!”

“Yes … I think you’re right. The crying is worse up here, anyway.”

“You still hear that crying?”

“Yes. First crying, then laughing, now crying again. It moves when I move. I have this crazy feeling like it wants me to chase it. Like when we used to play hide-and-seek or sardines. It’s driving me a little nuts.”

“Well, we can’t have
that
! You’re the only sane one around here. Let’s get outta Dodge and into the day, okay? I’ll take you on the ferry to Far Rockaway.”

*   *   *

It wasn’t the first time they’d been on an adventure in the Bronx. From the first week she arrived, every Saturday morning—before Elly became consumed with her new apartment and heavenly art supplies—Anthony would come right into Mimi’s apartment and call her. “Come on, E! Time for a walk, let’s get that baby moving around!”

They walked all over the city, down by the river, and he showed her the secrets of her new home. The delicious smells and foodstuffs of Arthur Avenue. The butchers, bakeries, and dressmakers. The artists who lived in renovated factories and had studios and shows. The fishing community and the fresh lobsters sold right off the docks. The historic downtown that offered trolley rides to and from most anywhere.

But they hadn’t visited Far Rockaway yet.

“How did my mother steal all this from me?” she asked him as they rode the ferry.

Anthony leaned against the rail. His black hair shining in the sun, his muscular frame. The back of his neck made her a little weak in the knees.
How I love him,
she thought.

“She didn’t like it here. You can’t make a person have an opinion. Likes and dislikes are subjective. It’s a matter of aesthetics, you should know that, Miss Artist!” he said.

And then he kissed her. Elly was aware of her belly pushing against him, the belly that was making her more and more uncomfortable. Out here, away from her art, she felt unlovely and insecure.

“Why do you love me, Anthony?” she asked, holding her breath as she waited for the answer.

“Well, it is
my
opinion that you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You’re smart, you’re exciting, and we were put here, right here on this earth to be together.” He paused, kissed her again, and then said, “You know I’ve always loved you. Since we were little. Your misfortune seems to be my gain.”

“How do I know you don’t have some sort of hero complex?” she asked quickly. She’d been afraid to ask it for months. It had occurred to Elly all Anthony did was take care of people. His mother. Elly’s own aunts, and Mimi, too.

Anthony looked down at the water for a moment and then back at Elly. He looked deep into her green eyes. “I see how you could think that—but look at this.” Anthony took his black wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper. “Do you remember this? You wrote this to me when you were thirteen. I never forgot it, and I’m going to hold you to it.”

She blushed.
“Dear Anthony, if we are not married by the time we are eighteen, you have to give me your sworn pledge that you will marry me.”

“I didn’t even remember you then! Wow. I was bossy!”

“You were adorable.”

And then he did the unexpected and rightest thing in the world. In the middle of the ferry ride he got down on one knee and looked up at Elly. He took out a black velvet box and opened it, revealing a stunning ruby ring in a simple princess set.

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