by Lena Manta
“Yes, I see, and what do we know about Mike?”
It was Bowden’s turn to speak. “He’s around forty, has no family, and only recently took over the district. It’s an open secret that he did away with the previous boss in a terrible way. He’s paranoid, Franco. Everyone says so. He’s sick. He doesn’t operate in the usual way. The way he acts is like a terrorist.”
Silence fell. Nobody dared to interrupt Franco, who seemed to be thinking. When he raised his head a few minutes later, everyone knew that a new era was beginning and that Franco’s plans would ensure it was bathed in blood.
The police couldn’t understand what had happened. Chicago, which always teetered dangerously between good and evil, had become a war zone under their noses, and they couldn’t keep up with all the bodies. Franco’s orders were clear: a war was beginning. He didn’t have his eye on the west, but after these developments he didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t respond to Mike’s cowardly attack, the next victims would be himself, his wife, and his children.
Magdalini observed everything that was going on. Her ears and eyes were constantly alert and what she saw and understood, she didn’t like at all. Her aunt’s house had been transformed into a fortress. Armed men moved around them and searched every visitor. Nobody dared to leave without company. Franco came home very late each night, bathed without eating, and slid into bed beside her, taking her in his arms. His lovemaking was as tender as always, but the message was different. He needed it. Her body was like a purge for his soul. In her arms the man she had married was baptized again.
Neither she nor Anna dared to speak openly about what was happening, even between themselves. The silent agreement between them was like an illusion that warded off evil. Since they didn’t talk about it, it didn’t exist.
Franco rented an enormous apartment in a skyscraper for his family to stay in. Even though she didn’t like the idea of the children living in an apartment, Magdalini obeyed Franco’s wishes. “I have to be near my work,” her husband had explained, and she wondered how much longer they would go on playing this game. She wasn’t stupid; her suspicions had been confirmed. The wave of violence in the city had to be connected with the destruction of their house and Charley’s death.
“How long have you been mixed up with the Mafia?” she finally asked her husband one day.
Her question fell like thunder and spread like a threat around the large room. They had moved into their new home a month ago, the children had gone to bed, and for the first time in a long while, Franco seemed at peace. That morning Magdalini had read that someone called Mike, who was probably the biggest Mafia boss in the west, had been found dead with two bullets in his head. A note beside the body indicated that it was suicide. But the police weren’t laughing at the killer’s joke. Mike was dead as soon as the first bullet entered his brain; he couldn’t have fired at himself again.
When he heard his wife’s question, Franco stood still, the glass in his hand held in midair. He knew there was no point in trying to fool her.
“Since I was born,” he answered.
“Yes. So Charley . . .”
“Charley was the boss of the area before me.”
“And why did they get rid of him?”
“To take over his turf.”
“That is, for the same reason they wanted to kill you and our children.”
“That’s about it.”
“And why did you lie to me for so long?”
“Lyn, try to understand. It’s not so simple. You don’t tell your wife such things!”
“Right! It’s better to let her live under the delusion that you are a respectable citizen and decent businessman, without knowing that at any moment she might find herself murdered along with her children, victims of some paranoid creature who wants to take over her husband’s leadership. Wasn’t this Mike who ‘committed suicide’ a boss? Was he involved in the explosion at our house?”
“Yes. You’re very clever, Lyn.”
“But yet again you underestimated me. You left me to lead a false life.”
“And if I’d told you the truth, what would you have done, Lyn?”
“What I’m about to do right now!”
Franco looked at her with a pleading expression.
“Ah, no,” Magdalini said. “You don’t know me very well, my love. I’m not about to leave you. Murderer or not, in the Mafia or not, I love you. It may sound crazy to love a man who can kill so easily like you, who sells drugs and deals in women, but I didn’t ever say that I was rational.”
“What are you asking, Lyn?”
“You have three months’ grace. You’ll get out of all your . . . work, and then we’ll leave Chicago forever, if necessary we’ll leave America. Now that I know, I refuse to live moment to moment with the fear that they may kill us.”
“But Lyn, what you’re asking can’t be done. What do you think the Mafia is? An organization you can leave whenever you like? If I leave, then we’ll all be in danger of being killed.”
“Why?”
“Haven’t you heard of the oath of silence? Nobody leaves the Mafia alive.”
“Yes, but nobody who stays is left alive either. From what I understand, none of you are satisfied with what you have. You’ll attack someone like jackals to get rid of him so you can expand. You’re completely crazy, sick with power and control. I can’t live with a man who’s like that.”
“But you’ve lived with him for this long! I’m the same man, Lyn, the man who worships you, the man who loves you.”
“Then it appears that I loved a lie. And if it was just the two of us, I could accept that, because, like I said, I still love you. But I have to think of the children. I refuse to raise my son to follow in your footsteps. I don’t want my daughter to get mixed up with any of you like I did.” Magdalini was suddenly silent. She looked wide eyed at her husband. “Franco,” she said, then stopped.
“Lyn, don’t go any further . . . please!”
“What business does Peter have with all this? He’s mixed up in it too, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
The answer struck her like a lightning bolt.
“He knew about you, then. Even when Bowden introduced us.” Magdalini laughed bitterly. “So he was in on the plot too?”
Franco’s silence told her that there was something more.
“If you don’t tell me the whole truth right this moment, I’ll take the children and leave,” she said, her eyes flashing with anger.
Very slowly, as if he had lost all his energy, Franco told her the whole story from the beginning. When he’d finished, he felt her eyes piercing him like red-hot needles. He didn’t dare look at her.
“Lyn, you must understand,” he whispered.
“No! Now it’s time for you to understand. Three months, Franco. Then you’ll lose all trace of us.”
Magdalini didn’t know then that she’d opened the door to her own personal hell. She didn’t realize just how true her husband’s words would prove to be. The developments that followed came like a storm. Franco’s announcement that he was pulling out rallied another front against him. Mike’s remaining followers were already out for blood, although Franco wasn’t aware of it. Now, the angry and uneasy big shots rattled by Franco’s disloyalty would join the attack. The two forces moved in parallel and at the same time.
Magdalini kissed her son as she did every afternoon then handed him over to Jack to take him to baseball practice. Franco was out at a lunch meeting with Peter and Bowden to discuss another detail of the big exodus, so Magdalini sat alone with her daughter, helping her with her arithmetic. From the family’s apartment on the fifteenth floor, she was completely unaware of what happened next.
Two black cars appeared from nowhere at the same moment. The first braked suddenly at the entrance to the apartment building at the exact moment when Jack was holding the door open for little Charles. One window was lowered, a submachine gun emerged from the opening and the bullets raked Ja
ck and Charles, who both collapsed, dead, on the sidewalk. Then the car disappeared, its tires screeching demonically. At that same moment, a second car was doing exactly the same thing as Franco, Peter, and Bowden were coming out of the restaurant.
Complete success in a double hit.
Anna seemed to have aged suddenly in a single year. Twelve months had passed since that black day and still there were moments when she wondered how she had managed to keep her sanity, how she hadn’t lost herself in a world of silence like Magdalini. The light had been extinguished from the younger woman’s eyes and she hadn’t spoken a word since the shootings. The doctors said she would eventually recover from the shock, but they couldn’t say when that would happen.
As soon as Magdalini had heard the news, she fell to the floor, as little Doris screamed in fear. When she recovered she was a body without a soul, totally catatonic. She was kept in the hospital for nearly two weeks, but all the tests they did failed to detect any physical problem.
Anna was left alone with a child who needed her, dozens of responsibilities, and thousands of questions. Charlene and her husband stayed beside her like sleepless guards, while Judy and her husband, who’d been offered a job in Chicago, moved back home to help, as much as they could, the family that had been blown to pieces without any obvious cause. As the newspapers began to report the details behind the tragedies, Anna finally understood how deeply she had been sleeping all these years. She almost wished that she’d become like her niece, so she wouldn’t understand and hurt so much.
Judy visited Magdalini for hours every day. Sitting beside her, she read to her and talked to her about the old days, about the parties they used to go to, and the crazy things they did. When Anna would take over, Charlene would look after little Doris, who was finally recovering with the help of an experienced psychologist. The specialist tried to heal the wounds of the little girl who wanted her family back as she had known it, a family she had lost so suddenly that her child’s brain couldn’t comprehend it.
The vision of the beautiful statue that had been her mother frightened the little girl at first, but she got used to it. When she visited her bedside, she spoke to her mother as if she could answer her, and before she left she always kissed her tenderly. The last time, a tear rolled down Magdalini’s face, a very good sign of improvement, the doctor said. Anna began to weep and pray to God that a miracle might happen.
“Aunt?”
Anna jumped up in fright and looked around her to see where the voice was coming from. Magdalini was looking at her for the first time in fourteen whole months, and Anna’s breath stopped for a moment from the shock and joy. Her prayers had been answered.
“My girl!” she exclaimed.
“Where am I?” Magdalini spoke slowly as if she was searching for the words.
“At my house, darling, with me. Thank God! You’re back with me again.”
Magdalini’s recovery progressed quickly from that point on. With every day that passed, she took another leap forward, thanks to the help of her daughter. Overwhelmed with joy, Doris couldn’t be pried away from her mother’s room. The child made her read her favorite stories to her and her dolls put on performances for her mother’s entertainment.
Nobody spoke about what had happened. They were waiting for Magdalini herself to talk about it. They knew she would when she was ready to face it. That’s what the doctors said and everyone believed them.
Judy’s husband, Alex, had managed to clean up Franco and Peter’s affairs on behalf of the two women. Very discreetly, so as not to stir up more trouble, he had secured their finances for them. He had managed to save the largest part of the fortune the two men had made. Naturally, he didn’t touch any accounts that directly concerned the activities of the Mafia. He also put out the word that Franco’s widow was seriously ill and had left for Greece. And he posted a “For Sale” sign outside Anna’s house, which he took down after two weeks, when he and Judy moved in. Anyone watching would think Judy and Alex had bought the house and Peter’s widow had moved away. The plan was safe enough, as Anna never went out, not even into the garden. A year and a half later, nobody remembered the two women.
One Sunday afternoon, Magdalini looked around at her dear friends, as they sat together after their meal. It had become a custom for all of them to eat together on Sundays. Judy was admiring her round belly. After many miscarriages she and Alex were finally about to have their first child. Charlene was talking to Anna. Little Doris was dressing and undressing a doll, and Charlene’s husband was talking to his son-in-law about the country’s economic situation. Everything was so peaceful. Magdalini knew that, had it not been for these loved ones, she would have never survived the last few years. She’d crossed a stormy ocean. The waves were mountainous, her ship had broken, and if the people before her now hadn’t been holding life jackets, she and her daughter would have drowned. Since the day she woke up, she hadn’t stopped thinking about the future, even though she said nothing about it to anyone. Two angels in her life had flown far away, but there was one angel left that she must protect. And as long as she stayed in Chicago, she would never feel safe again.
“I want to tell you something,” she began and everyone turned to her with interest. “I’ve never told you how grateful I am to you all for what you did after Franco and Charles died. Of course however many thank-yous I say, they won’t be enough, compared to the effort you’ve made for us. I know that at times it was probably dangerous, particularly for you, Alex.”
Alex looked embarrassed. “Lyn, you don’t need to say that.”
“It’s the truth, though. You’re good people. To me, the best in the world. A strong, loving family. That’s why I want you to know about my decision.”
The room grew perfectly silent.
“It’s impossible for me to go on living here,” Magdalini said. “Every step I take frightens me, I think every car is following me, I shake with fear for my daughter. I don’t like living in fear. So I’m going home to my country, and I’m hoping that my aunt will follow me.”
Anna was beside her before she could speak the last word. “Of course I’ll come with you!” she said. “To be very honest, I was hoping you’d make a decision like this.” Then she turned to face the others. “However much I love you all, and despite the fact that I’ve lived here nearly my whole life, there are things that are driving me away. Memories that I’d prefer to forget.” Turning back to her niece, she asked, “When shall we go?”
“Tomorrow.”
“But the house?”
Magdalini looked at Alex. “This will be the last favor I ask of you, Alex. To sell the house and send the money to us in Greece.”
Charlene wiped her eyes, which were streaming with tears. “However much my heart aches because I’ll lose you, I know you’re doing the right thing. In your own country you can start a new life. Far away from the pain. But where will you go? Do you have a place to stay?”
The younger woman looked off into space for a moment with dreamy eyes, then cast her gaze back to her aunt, still standing at her side. Anna understood and nodded her head in agreement.
Magdalini suddenly remembered the forgotten sounds the trees make when they dance in the wind, their leaves singing happily. She recalled the smell of the earth after rain, the scent of wood fires burning, and the steamy fragrance of her mother’s freshly baked bread. She saw a house embraced by two huge chestnut trees and the river that always flowed lazily beside it.
That was where she wanted to go. She wanted to drown her pain in that river. She wanted to be held in her mother’s arms and let her tears finally flow. She wanted her daughter to grow up under Mount Olympus, free and happy, without being afraid of anything.
Back, then. Back home . . .
To the house by the river.
THE RETURN
Theodora put the lit candle carefully back in its place among the icons, and crossed herself devoutly as she did every morning. The soft light spread around the half-dar
k room. Despite the fact that April had arrived a week ago, it was still quite cold. Spring was still only a promise. Without switching on the light she went to the kitchen, and when she heard the crackle of the fire in the hearth she knew she hadn’t been the first one up.
Her mother, sitting on a chair in front of the fire, was already drinking her coffee. “Good morning!” Julia said, as soon as she saw her daughter come in.
Theodora smiled affectionately. Julia was nearly eighty, but she was as energetic as she had been at sixty. Her hair had turned completely white and her fingers were bent, but she herself was not. Erect as ever, she walked slowly but was still strong. No illness had bothered her and the doctor said she was in great physical condition for her age, which Theodora was grateful for. She didn’t know what she would have done all these lonely years without her mother.
Theodora went to the fireplace and sat down beside Julia.
“Will you have some coffee? Shall I make it for you?” Julia asked.
“Yes, Mother, I’ll have some.”
Every morning for years now, her mother had asked the same thing and she had given the same answer. For a little while they enjoyed the company of the fire without speaking. In the summer they drank their first coffee on the verandah, watching the river reflect the first rays of the sun. They’d both passed through difficult years, but they had managed to cope. When they were completely alone—after Magdalini had left and when Polyxeni had secretly run off—Theodora thought the sun had lost its luster, the colors had faded, and life itself was a heavy burden she couldn’t bear. There was no point in going on. The thought was fixed in her mind.
But Julia refused to let her daughter give up. She let her cry and rant for weeks. She watched with sleepless eyes as Theodora neglected her everyday work in favor of sitting on the riverbank and letting her thoughts travel like the water to her children, who now lived so far away. Julia pretended not to notice that her daughter ate very little, although it worried her. She pretended not to see that the lines around her eyes were deepening, and that her expression was empty. Instead, she waited patiently until she thought her daughter had mourned long enough. Then she decided to take the situation into her own hands. She went and found Theodora, who was sitting on the riverbank again.
