“Oh Mimi, I can’t even imagine it. Won’t you please tell me about that day? I feel like I need to own a piece of it, especially now with Itsy gone. I’ve lost my connection.”
“You will never lose your connection, love. You can’t. It’s inside of you. Okay, you want the dirty details? I’ll give them to you.” Mimi got up and went to the window. She needed to say the words into the building itself. To tell it its own story.
“The day was lovely. I remember that, and the trees were moving the way they do on a midspring day. God’s breath making wishes on the leaves. Mama and I were baking. And then—the doorbell rang.
“Our hands were gooey. ‘Fee?’ asked Mama pushing her hair back with her forearm.
“‘No, she’s at the church decorating for the festival,’ I said.
“‘Bunny?’
“‘Shopping.’
“Mama sighed. ‘Call Papa.’
“‘Papa!’ I yelled. She hit the back of my head with her hand,
“‘Ma! You got flour in my hair.’
“‘And so what? I have to do everything myself.’ She wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the front door. That was the beginning and the end. I never saw her alive again. Later that night Fee wanted to wash my hair. But I put up such a fight she gave up because she didn’t want me to bleed from my eyes anymore. I wanted to keep Mama’s flour in my hair. I never wanted to wash it out.
“‘Can I help you?’ I heard Mama say.
“There were mumbled, masculine voices and then a thud. I heard Papa come down the stairs and yell out Mama’s name.
“I ran into the front hall. There were two soldiers at the door and Mama on the floor, ashen, eyes opened. Dead.
“‘What happened?’ I cried out. Papa was cradling her and crying. ‘No, no, no!’
“The men at the door told me about the boys.
“I can remember asking something silly like, ‘All three? All three at the same time? Aren’t there some kind of rules against that?’
“They asked what they could do.
“I told them to get help.
“As they left, I saw Fee coming home. She was running down the sidewalk. Holding up her skirts. ‘What’s happened?’ She was yelling too loud. People were coming out of their buildings like bugs.
“Papa walked away staring out of dull eyes with a pale face, letting Mama’s head thunk against the floor. He walked back into the apartment. It didn’t take long.
“Fee and I were standing, crying over Mama, waiting for help. Fee kept putting her fingers in her ears and saying, ‘What?’
“The shot was loud. It came from Mama and Papa’s room. I got up. ‘Fee, did you hear?’
“She looked puzzled. ‘What?’
“I ran into their bedroom and Papa was across the bed. Shot himself in the head. I remember thinking, No … this can’t be happening. Too much. How did it all fall apart in five minutes?
“Bunny came home, I heard her scream and shoo Zelda Grace up the stairs to their apartment, to shield her from the tragic chaos.
“I ran to her, my big sister. My new mother.
“‘Papa! He’s dead, too. Shot himself. And the boys! That’s how it started, Bunny … that’s how it started. All three.’
“‘Isn’t there some rule about that?’ she asked, echoing my own thoughts.
“The discussion was surreal. We didn’t know what else to do. Fee wouldn’t stop fussing with her ears. ‘I can’t hear right,’ she said, rocking back and forth on her heels.
“Policemen were everywhere by then. Like buzzing bees. But they didn’t pay much attention to us. Most of them were gathering at the back of the house around Papa. I’m sure it was one of them who called the ambulance.
“Bunny sat on the bottom step and stared out the doorway. I sat next to her.
“‘So what do we do?’ she asked me.
“‘We wait for help.’
“‘We wait,’ she repeated.
“We stared into the day, the shaft of light like an Edward Hopper painting illuminating Fee and dead Mama on the floor. And then a graceful shadow, the sound of doves’ wings … fabric in the wind, and a soft scream, all followed by a sick, smacking sound.
“Sweet, curious, Zelda Grace had fallen from the upstairs window. We watched her hit the ground.
“Bunny got up in slow motion and walked forward stepping over Mama. She took her time walking off the porch steps. She leaned down and covered her daughter’s eyes with her hands and then stood back up.
“I knew what would happen next. I didn’t need The Sight for that. I didn’t even try to stop her. The day’s events were out of my control. Mama knew it was coming. The fortune-teller confirmed it all those years ago that summer day in Playland. It had to finish itself. Run its horrible course.
“Bunny chased the light out into oncoming traffic. The ambulance that was coming to save us killed my sister.
“Fee put her hands over her ears and kept rocking.
“I remember thinking: Itsy and George … Itsy and George.
“Itsy was living at Mama’s house out on Far Rockaway. But it was the middle of the week. She’d be teaching. I had to call her. George was running in through the back door. He tore by me. Good … I remember thinking. Someone else will tell him. I’ll tell Itsy and she’ll come and take care of him.
“I picked up the phone. The receiver fell, it was so heavy. The air was heavy. I looked at the phone numbers on the chalkboard next to the phone that Mama put up so we could keep track of everyone.
“I dialed Bayside Public School and asked to speak to Itsy. A family emergency if there ever was one. I don’t even know how I got out the words. When I hung up the phone I clutched at my belly. I’d forgotten all about the baby. The baby whose family was disappearing by the second.
“My husband Alfred worked in the City with Bunny’s husband, Charlie. They’d be home after it was all over. And they did come home. But Charlie packed his things in silence and left. He never saw Bunny buried and we never saw him again. And my Alfred? He stayed by my side. Stayed until I made him leave. But that’s another story altogether.”
Elly took a long look at her grandmother. It was one thing to know something, another entirely to hear the details. Elly felt the air suck out of her own chest. The things people go through everyday. The split-second spin of a reality gone mad. Elly could clearly picture statuesque Bunny lifting her skirts and stepping into the traffic, her shoulders straight. Her bun still tight and tidy on top of her head. Elly had an itchy, urgent need to paint the whole scene. As if it would purge it from all of them. Mark the moment so they could all move on.
Mimi sat back and relaxed. “Okay, your turn, Elly. What did my sister say to you all those years ago?”
“Well … I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave you and Anthony, the life I had here. I watched the taxi pull up and I gripped the iron bars. Then I ran. Uncle George told me where to go. I ran to my hiding place and found my secret treasure. An old, old smell came out. Lavender like all your things, but stronger and mixed with an odd earthy scent, too.…
Babygirl
… and then she lifted a heavy folded cotton sheet and found the bones of a tiny baby dressed in a beautiful christening gown too big for her. On the back of the sheet a perfectly pressed brown stain of decay that showed of the features of what would have surely been a pretty little thing.
Fascinated, Babygirl held up the shroud and looked closely at it until her alive little Babygirl nose touched the baby nose imprinted on the fabric. Babygirl saw a flash of light behind her eyes and saw her sad birth and secret burial. Itsy’s very own baby!
* * *
“Itsy found me there.
“‘What have you found, little one?’ she asked me.
“‘Itsy? You’re talking!’ I hugged her. ‘I found your baby. Did you lose her?’
“‘No, I didn’t lose her. Not really. I just needed someone else to know about her. I suppose I only needed someo
ne to find my voice. Thank you for finding her. Thank you for sharing my secret. Now, why don’t you tell me what is making you so upset, love.’
“‘I don’t want to go.’
“‘What should we do about this? How can I help you?’
“‘I wish … I wish I didn’t remember. If I have to go with her I don’t want to remember any of this.’
“‘But why?’
“‘Because it would hurt too much not to be here. And I’m scared of her. I’m so scared of her now that I know what it’s like to be with you. I have to forget. Quickly! Do you have magic that can make me forget?’
“‘I can try.’
“‘Oh! Wait, but if I forget, then I won’t remember your secret … and if I don’t remember your secret, you won’t be able to talk!’
“‘Oh darling, you don’t worry about that. It’s better this way. So much happened, why should I add an extra layer of sadness onto those I love? Maybe, just maybe it will be a good thing all around. Now come here and let me see what I can do. But first, in case it works, in case you really forget, I want you to know that I love you very much. And that I love your Uncle George, too. The both of you, more than anything, okay?’
“‘Okay.’ I said, and Itsy wove her magic spell.”
* * *
“She had a baby? And we never knew?” Mimi was crying.
“She didn’t want you to know. She had to protect George.”
“Yes, yes. I see it all now. And so that was the big secret? After all these years? She said she loved you? And then made you forget?” asked Mimi.
“Yes, Mimi, she said she loved me.”
“Love should never be a secret and it should never, ever be forgotten.”
“It won’t be anymore.”
35
Liz
Elly couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, thinking about The Day the Amores Died. She checked on Maj, lamenting that she was such a good baby. It’d be better if she was up. At least then Elly would have something to do. She sat in the nursery and rocked back and forth in the ancient chair.
“Elly,” called a soft voice, hushed but wanting to be heard. Elly stopped rocking.
“Elly!” the voice called again, insistent.
She went to the window. There stood Liz. Beautiful as ever in the moonlight and wearing a flowered dress. The same dress she always wore when she visited Elly as the “young woman Liz.” “I never even noticed…” said Elly as she opened the window wider and stepped out onto the fire escape.
“Look, we’re like Romeo and Juliet!” said Liz. “But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon!”
“Is it really you?” asked Elly.
“Yes. At least I think so.”
“But you’re dead,” said Elly.
“Oh, death. Such a nuisance really. Just another thing to do. Always so much work, you know. Come on down here and sit in the garden with me. The garden’s always its most lovely under the moon.”
Elly climbed down the fire escape ladder and sat on the bench in the walled garden next to Liz.
“I was always there to protect you. I made a promise to you the day you were born. It was fun, being a kid again. At least I tried—I didn’t like playing sardines much,” said Liz.
“So did I imagine you, or were you there?” asked Elly.
“You saw me, right?” teased Liz.
“Yes.”
“Then what do you think?” She gave Elly a playful shove.
Elly looked at the ghost. Her face in the shadows shimmered from old to young and back again.
Liz leaned forward, whispering a flower of memory into Elly’s mind.
“I was a baby,” said Elly, “and you came to see me in the hospital. You put yourself inside of me. You told me you’d never leave me, and you didn’t.”
Liz smiled. “You got it, kiddo! Sometimes you gotta hand it to that Green blood. It helps us accomplish some damn fine things.”
“So, you saw it all?”
“I saw you all grown up and beautiful. Your belly full with child. And I saw you dead in the attic. I decided then and there to change it. No matter what Mama and Mimi and Fee said. I wanted to at least try to change it, and I did.”
Elly sat with her palms open, like Mimi and Fee the night of Itsy’s death. Elly understood the real grief now. The enormity of the loss. “Will you stay with me? Stay and protect me still?” she asked trying to be stoic, to hold back the tears. To be an Amore.
“I can’t stay, Elly. I’m dead. I only came to say good-bye. I thought you needed to know that you can take care of yourself now. I wanted to tell you that it wasn’t your fault, not any of it.”
Elly let the tears come realizing that this was really it. That Liz, Lizzy, Itsy, they were all going away. It was too much. It made Elly remember why she wanted to forget it all in the first place. “Hush now,” said Elizabeth Amore, “It’s time for me to go. I can’t leave you like this.”
“Are you afraid? Is it dark?” sniffled Elly.
“Oh no. It’s wonderful. Nothing I could ever explain with words. Go back to your family, Elly. Hold your baby. Curl up next to your man. Live the life I couldn’t. You owe me that.”
“Oh,” said Elly feeling lighter. “I owe you, do I?”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?”
“Please,” teased Elly. “You were imaginary for Christ’s sake. Some sort of magical Green energy projection or something.”
“I wasn’t imaginary when I hauled that huge steamer trunk from here all the way to Far Rockaway. I wasn’t imaginary then. I saw it, Elly. I saw him come to the building and find you and Anthony in the attic going through my trunk. I saw him kill both of you. I decided to do what Mama hadn’t done, what Mimi couldn’t do. I decided to try and change what I saw. And see? It worked! Voilà, a whole new fate.” Elizabeth reached out, tried to touch Elly’s face but there was a crackle instead. “Anyway, I need you to know that the things you see can be changed. Don’t let yourself get tied down to one particular road, okay? Promise me.”
“I promise,” said Elly.
“Oh, and forgive Carmen. I’ve seen her. She’s flawed, but she loves you.”
“Already done,” smiled Elly. “Liz?”
“Hmm?”
“Why was it such a secret? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I had to protect George, of course. If anyone found out he’d hurt me they’d have put him away or something. I swore a solemn vow to Mama that I’d protect him. Forever. And I did. Sort of. Well, I tried. At least I tried.”
“You were a good sister, Liz—Aunt Itsy—what should I call you anyway?”
“Call me gone, honey.”
A light came from the ivy-covered wall. Dim and then bright.
“I have to go now,” said Liz.
A woman—a woman who looked like Elly—walked through the wall and onto the grass. Her steps graceful and tentative. Vines and tendrils grew from where she placed her feet as she walked, delicately, out into the garden. She held her arms out to Liz. Elly could feel the magnetic force. Liz became more of a whisper of an outline and then, she was gone. The woman looked at Elly.
“Take care of them.” Margaret Green turned around and walked back into the pocket of light, taking it with her and leaving only the blue of the moonlight in the garden. It was then that Elly saw the vines that grew at her feet were still there, only now those vines were producing the widest, whitest moonflowers, one after the other, that Elly had ever seen.
She was suddenly alone. More alone than she’d ever been. It occurred to Elly for the very first time that pieces of her aunt had lived inside of her forever. Who am I without you? she asked the night.
Mimi and Fee found Elly sitting in the night garden with her hands open, palms up in her lap.
“She’s seen Mama,” said Mimi.
“She’s seen Mama,” said Fee.
Mimi took one of Elly
’s hands, and Fee took the other. Together they were three.
“I’m one of you,” said Elly.
“One of us,” said Mimi.
“Forever and ever,” said Fee.
“Amen,” said Elly.
Fall
“Stand still!” yelled Fee at Elly’s feet as she pinned up the hem of a heavy satin wedding gown.
“Do it. She’ll poke you. Just for fun, probably,” whispered Mimi, her mouth full of pins as she laced some freshwater pearls into the bodice.
“I’m tired of this. The dress is fine the way it is!” complained Elly.
“No, no. This wedding will be perfect. I know,” said Mimi.
Elly didn’t want to waste little Maj’s naptime with all this fussing. They were in Mimi’s apartment with the doors open and the baby monitor on. Elly listened to every sound coming from the baby’s nursery.
“Ah! Come on, old women! I have so much to do. I need her naptime to paint!”
“You are getting married next week. There are things we need to prepare,” said Mimi.
Elly smiled to herself. We were married a long time ago. Long ago on the beaches of Far Rockaway …
A static sound came over the monitor. And then a whisper: Ohlookathersopretty.
“Did you hear that?” asked Mimi.
“What?” yelled Fee.
But Elly was already on her way, stepping off a low stool as she walked, and then gathering her skirts she ran to her baby. Fee fell over as she tried to keep sewing the hem to no avail. Elly was gone—needles and thread bouncing behind her. She ran out of Mimi’s apartment and up the staircase gathering armloads of satin skirting with Carmen’s words dangling in front of her, adding steps. “They’ll eat your baby…”
She pushed open the door to Uncle Georgie’s apartment, hers now 2B … with Anthony. 2A was vacant and up for rent.
She walked through the sunny living room and into the nursery. The windows were open, letting in a cold October breeze. Did I leave the windows open? Foolish … she went to close them, heard the whispers, again, and turned around to face the crib.
The Witch of Little Italy Page 24
