by Becky Melby
Carlo stepped toward Frank and put his hand on Lois’s back. “Nicky made cinnamon rolls. Why don’t we all go sit down and—”
Frank handed the diary to Lois, grabbed onto one end of the table, bent his knees, and yanked. His wife latched onto his arm. “Frank, what’s going on? What are you—”
Nicky gasped. Rena moved in closer. The table, still attached to floorboards, rose up several inches, boards and all.
“Lift the sides,” Frank ordered the men.
Nicky grabbed one side. His father took the other. They lifted. The table swung up and back. Thick curved bars rose out of a hole in the floor. The table made a thunk as it came to a stop, resting on one end on the floor.
In the gaping hole, dust-covered wood stairs led down into blackness.
Nicky rubbed his thumb across the back of Dani’s hand as they descended. Ahead of them, Frank arced a flashlight at messages and dates etched and painted on the pale yellow brick.
J&R 1926
BUD AND LANA - JUST MARRIED!
RALPH E. APRIL 9 ′28
DROP YOUR WEAPONS, BOYS.
TELL NOT A SOUL WHAT YOU FIND HERE.
“My initials are here somewhere. Santo let Luca and I use his knife but warned us to never tell Renata.” He stopped and shined the light straight overhead. “So many secrets back then.”
Nicky ran his hand along the cool bricks. Beside him, Dani counted the steps. There were only eight. Frank bent over when he reached the bottom. Nicky copied his posture. There was just enough room for Dani to stand up straight.
He’d expected to meet a wall at the bottom, expected it to open into a basement they never knew existed. But Frank walked straight ahead. Which meant… “We’re between the buildings.” They had to be directly under the empty lot between the restaurant and the vacant garage. His pulse tripped.
The flashlight beam ricocheted off something ahead. “More stairs,” Dani whispered.
Shoes clogged against wood as they picked their way up another flight of stairs. They reached a landing and turned. There was a door to their left, but Frank walked up yet more steps. When he reached the top, he burst out laughing. “And here I thought I was losing my mind.”
The room before them was pitch black, but every spot the flashlight beam illuminated sent chills down Nicky’s spine. Though dirty and in shambles, the room was a scene straight out of one of his fantasies.
A massive, carved frame surrounded an enormous mirror. In front of it stood a curved bar made of rich, dark wood. Teak or mahogany. A player piano sat in one corner. The center of the room was filled with square tables, some overturned, some still covered in tablecloths, now moth-eaten and coated with a layer of dust.
Dani gripped his arm. “Look.” She reached out for Frank. “Shine your light on the mirror again.”
The mirror was cracked right down the middle and what could only be bullet holes pocked one side. Scrolled letters etched in an intact pane of frosted glass above the mirror spelled out STARDUST.
“Why did they leave it like this? All these years…” Nicky rubbed a hand over his eyes. Had Dani found her time machine? Had they all stepped back in time with her?
Dani released his arm and shined her light on a spot on the floor. A stain. “Someone died here.” She looked up and locked eyes with him. “Renata told Francie the Fiorini family was superstitious and wouldn’t enter or take anything from a place where someone was murdered.”
Frank’s hand slid over his mouth then fell to his side. “My aunt would never talk about what happened here. I’ve often wondered if it was just a dream.” He looked down at Carlo. “Your grandfather. Was he killed by a gunshot?”
An odd look passed over his father’s face. “He died when I was about ten. But he had a scar.” He pointed to a spot just below his right collarbone. “He told me and my cousins it was how a gangster made him believe in God.”
Frank nodded. “That was the night we left. Mama was sick. Aunt Francie begged her to get out of bed, but she couldn’t.” His voice drifted as if he were miles away. “I never saw my mother again.”
Lois put her hand on his back. The sound of her hand rubbing his shirt echoed in the silence. Nicky closed his eyes, sharing the hurt this man felt even after all these years.
“We took a train to Chicago. When we got off, a man I’d never seen before ran up and hugged us both. He kept saying, ‘Finally, finally.’ I was terrified. My aunt was sobbing. The guy kissed her and she kissed him back.”
Dani gasped. “Theo?”
Frank nodded. “He scooped me up in his arms and said, ‘How’d you like to ride an elephant?’ That’s all it took to win me over. A few months later we were on a boat to India.”
If her imagination was spinning, Dani could only guess what was twirling around in the head of the man whose arm was around her and whose fingers tapped a nameless tune on her forearm. Nicky’s mouth hadn’t closed once since they’d walked into the room. While Dani snapped pictures with her phone, he’d gone from table to table, looking as if he were carrying on imaginary conversations with imaginary patrons.
Frank headed toward the stairs and she tugged at Nicky’s sleeve. “Follow the light, Nicky.”
He snapped out of his stupor and grinned. “I’m buying this building. You all know that, right? I don’t care who owns it or how much it costs or—”
“Nicky.” Frank turned and looked from Nicky to his father. “Carlo? Don’t you own this building?”
“N-no.” Carlo scratched his head.
“I understand your family’s superstitions, but if they’d sold it, someone would have done something with it, don’t you think?”
Furrows deepened on Carlo’s forehead. He locked eyes with Nicky. “Nonno still owns the restaurant. Property tax bills go to him. I’ve never seen one—I just write the check and mail it to his lawyer.” His eyebrows rose, exactly like his son’s. “We shovel the sidewalk for our customers, we mow the lot. We always have. I’ve never questioned it.”
The tapping on Dani’s arm turned frenetic. Nicky’s whole body shook as his head bobbed. “This could be ours. This…could… be…ours.” This time, he pulled her toward the stairs. “What’s on the main floor?”
Six pairs of feet clamored like an elephant herd back to the landing. Frank turned a clear glass handle on a yellow-painted door. It swung open. The room was long but narrow. A rectangular table took up one side. A treadle sewing machine sat next to the table. On the other end of the room stood three dressmaker’s forms. Two were empty; a sheet shrouded the third. Dani lifted it by the corners. Beneath it hung a knee-length gown. Once white. Maybe never worn.
Dani grabbed the fingers that pummeled her arm. “Francie’s shop.” She pulled the sheet away. Satin with a sheer overlay. Yellowed, but possibly salvageable.
Frank crossed the room to another door and opened it. “Whoa…”
Through the door, Dani saw tools littering the floor. A mechanic’s shop. She followed Carlo and could only nod as his “Suh-weeet” bounced off the concrete floor and was echoed by his son.
An old black car, dust caked, but appearing to be in mint condition filled half the room. She knew enough about cars to recognize it as a Model T. She left the men to drool and went back into Francie’s shop. Rena followed her. As her phone lit up lavender wallpaper, shelves still stocked with fabric, a rocking chair in the corner, she could almost see Francie stitching on the hem of the satin dress. Her light scanned the ceiling, then down along the far wall. They walked toward a dust-coated picture. Dark storm clouds, trees bent by wind, people scurrying. “Creepy.”
Rena gasped. “Lois! Lois, bring the diary in here!”
Footsteps scrambled behind them. Rena pointed to the picture, grabbed the diary, and opened to the back. Francie’s picture was loose, tucked in the back cover. She turned it over. “On the back it says, ‘Behind the storm there is always a safe hiding place.’ She looked from Dani to Nicky to her father and then to Frank. “Storm…safe.”
Frank stepped forward. “Where’s the key?”
Dani looked from him to Nicky. “What key?”
“It was behind Francie’s picture in the back of the diary.” Nicky reached into his pocket.
Frank walked over to the picture. His hands shook as he lifted the picture…and touched the tarnished brass handle of a wall safe.
Nicky handed a skeleton key to Frank. It slid into a slot below the handle. The handle cranked, the door opened.
Frank pulled out a box about six inches long and opened the hinged lid.
Rings. Two ruby, one pearl, an emerald, and two encrusted with sapphires. And scattered along the bottom of the box…diamonds.
Rena lagged behind when everyone else went back to the restaurant. With only the light from her phone, she walked behind the stairway at the end of the tunnel. If her hunch was right…
There. Another tunnel. Narrower than the one that connected the two buildings, it led exactly where she knew it would. A metal door, painted gray. On the peeling paint, she made out a dark brown handprint.
Her great-grandfather’s blood?
“It was how a gangster made him believe in God.”
She looked at the rusted door handle. What if Jarod had found a way to open it? She shivered. All of this history, and so much more, could have been gone.
Maybe the door only opened from one side. Maybe it was only an exit.
A way out.
She positioned her palm over the handprint. A gunshot had put an end to what her great-grandfather had been doing in this building. He’d come to God because of his blood. She pictured the crucifix Nonna Renata, the woman she was named for, had brought from her hometown in Italy so many years ago.
Because of His blood…
She traced the outline of the handprint with her fingertip. As she did, the letters Dani had scribbled on a napkin scrolled through her mind. TRKOTULU. The real King of the Universe loves you.
She turned and followed the passageway back to the stairs.
The cinnamon rolls were half gone by the time Nicky and Dani finished telling about T and about Francie’s job at the jewelry store. Dani looked up from Nicky’s laptop. “Walbrecht’s Jewelers is no longer in business. If the jewelry store was covered by insurance, the insurance company would probably have a legitimate claim, but if they no longer exist, it looks like it’ll probably be a case of finders-keepers.”
Nicky raised his coffee cup. “To your future, Frank.”
Frank laughed. “I don’t need it where I’m going, and I’m certainly not going to keep stolen property, but our mission board could probably find a use for some of it.”
Dani lifted her cup. “Francie raised you well.”
“She did. I’m still trying to process everything you’ve told me. I remember so little about living here and nothing from Chicago. I still can’t believe she was involved with organized crime. She was such a godly woman.”
“She and Theo ran an orphanage?”
He nodded. “And much more. She met Amy Carmichael and was inspired to teach young women to sew. By learning a trade, they could stay off the streets. That mission is still going.”
Nicky smiled at the goose bumps dotting Dani’s skin and put his arm around her. “Your aunt was a very brave woman. It’s a good thing her husband stood out of her way and didn’t interfere with what God was calling her to do.”
“You two—stand over by the wall.”
Evan’s breath crystallized in the chilly April air as he barked orders.
Dani laced her gloved hand with Nicky’s and dragged him toward the freshly painted wall between the two garage doors. She waved at Zip and Broom. “You guys get in on this, too. Have to give our artists some PR.” The boys ambled over. Though they tried to hide it, pride oozed from every pore.
Dani smiled for the camera and pointed at the swirling design surrounding their logo. She’d watched Scope paint it. He’d outlined and filled in a five-foot-high 7 then stopped, pointed one finger to the sky, and added the two extensions that formed a cross like the one on his arm. Next to the cross, block letters proclaimed STREET LEVEL.
Evan snapped two pictures then turned as Rena walked up to him with a steaming cup. He let the camera hang on its strap, took the cup, and brushed Rena’s cheek with the back of his other hand.
“When did that start?” Dani whispered.
Nicky shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“Hey! A little help here.” China waddled across the street carrying a massive vase of flowers in front of a belly that couldn’t get much bigger. She was a week past her due date. Rena grabbed the flowers, and Evan helped the mother-to-be up the curb. “Happy grand opening.” She leaned awkwardly toward Dani and kissed her cheek.
“Daisies. Thank you.”
“Thank you.” She patted her belly and looked at Nicky. “Did Dani tell you I’m naming the baby after her?”
Nicky shook his head. “No.” His voice was low and rough. “Danielle is the perfect name.”
China rolled her eyes. “Not Danielle. Cerise.”
“Uh…” Nicky’s eyebrows rose and he laughed.
She’d never get tired of that sound.
An unfamiliar car pulled up and the back door slowly opened. She and Nicky gasped in unison. Frank, a good twenty pounds thinner than when they’d met him in the summer, stepped out. Lois walked around the back of the car. Dani hugged Lois, dampening the collar of the woman’s coat with her tears. “We had no idea.”
“We couldn’t miss this,” Frank answered, his voice as strong as ever.
Nicky wrapped his arms around the man. “None of this”—his voice cracked—“could have happened without you two.”
Frank laughed. “Lois is wearing the only ring she wants, and what would I do with the money where I’m going?”
“I don’t mean just the money. You’ll never know how much our talks have meant. I’ve learned so much from you.”
“And you’ll never know how knowing you has kept my mind on things above rather than the failings of this temporal body.” He gripped Nicky’s arm. “Now give us the grand tour.”
“Venus!” Nicky called to the girl handing out their brochures at the door. The girl who had proven she wasn’t afraid to talk to anyone. “Come here and do your thing.”
Bracelets jangling, she sidled over and gave Lois the pamphlet that Dani had sacrificed three nights of sleep perfecting. “Welcome. The mission of Street Level is to provide a Christ-proclaiming environment for teens in our community, to discover and develop their talents, and to make the products and services they create available to—”
“Frank!” Carlo strode toward them from Bracciano. He held up one finger. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
As Venus picked up where she’d left off, Dani watched as, behind Frank’s back, Carlo returned. He was not alone.
“Franky.” The soft, emotion-filled voice belonged to Luca.
Frank turned, stared, and broke into tears. His thin frame bent over the wheelchair, and the two old friends embraced.
Her vision blurring, Dani could hardly see the woman who stepped up and hugged her from behind. Lavinia kissed her on the cheek. “I told you I had a feeling the night you came to dinner. So I was a little off.”
Dani laughed through her tears. Lavinia reached out and pinched Nicky’s cheeks then nodded toward the building. “You two did it.”
“God did it. All of it.” He winked at Dani then shook Vito’s hand. “Welcome to our grand opening.”
“When do we get to come for dinner?” Vito pointed to the second story.
Nicky gave a comical bow. “The Stardust Room will be open for your dining pleasure in six weeks. Our grand opening will be May 18. Would you like to reserve a table now?”
“You bet.” Lavinia pinched his cheeks and followed Vito through the open garage door just as Todd walked out.
He grabbed Nicky and gave him a bear hug.
Nicky pulled away, looking like
he’d just swallowed a lemon. “What’s that for?”
“I just spent the last half hour talking to Scope. Did you know that kid wants to be a missionary?”
Nicky nodded.
“He gives you the credit for helping him figure out how God has gifted him.” Todd looked at Dani. “The kid just needed a Nicky in his life.”
“I know the feeling.” She leaned against Nicky’s chest and sighed as his arms wrapped around her. “So did I.”
“Not everybody agrees.” Nicky nodded toward a cluster of kids across the street. Cigarette smoke drifted over their heads. Occasional four-letter words cut the air. Yamile, Leah, and C.J. were just a few of the faces Dani recognized.
Todd, Street Level’s community liaison, waved to the group. “We’re watching them. Consider them potential clients.”
Come on over, C.J., I bought Oreos just for you. Someday, maybe.
Todd clapped Nicky on the back. “Gotta go back to schmoozing the money people.”
He walked away, and Nicky leaned close to Dani’s ear. “Come with me.” He took her hand and led her through the garage door. The space once occupied by the Model T, now on display at the public museum, was filled with aisles displaying artwork. Across the room, Rena picked up her guitar, adjusted her mic, and began to sing. Dani’s throat tightened as they walked through the workroom everyone referred to as “Francie’s Room.” On the wall next to the storm picture were framed pages of the Kenosha Times—freelanced stories of kids at risk and the tale of a young girl’s diary—with Dani’s byline. Nicky led her up the now-lit stairway.
So many unanswered questions still lingered in the old building. Pondering why Francie had never returned for the diamonds had become a favorite date-night activity.
The upstairs was empty. Sawdust and two-by-fours littered the floor. Still, it took her breath away. Like Nicky, she heard the tinkle of glasses and the soft strains of a Frank Sinatra song every time she walked in.
Nicky cleared his throat and took her hands in his. “That dress, the one Francie made…”
“Right there.” She pointed to a corner. “It’s cleaned and ready. It’ll look perfect right there.”
