Nonna Rose and Theresa LaFelini chuckled. “The little girl is like a country mouse in the city,” Theresa laughed. “Isabella! You used to say things like the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty were stupid tourist traps!”
Isabella groaned. “When, Gram? When I was a kid? Is that why we never went up when I was little? I think it’d be cool! I’ll bet we can see your house from up there!” She took a deep breath. “Ahh, smell the city! Why didn’t I ever realize how good this city smells?”
The adult women took a sniff of the harsh city air, filled with scents of diesel, souvlaki and hot dog carts, and other indiscernible odors—some pleasant, most others not so—and shook their heads simultaneously. The girl was seriously delusional!
“I know, you think I’m crazy,” Isabella told them, reading their thoughts. “But it smells great! Hey, are we near Ray’s? I smell pizza!”
“Pizza?” her mother wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I smell a lot of things, Isabella, but pizza isn’t one of them!”
“Isabella, è troppo presto per il pranzo!” Nonna Rose scolded.
“Yes, Nonna, I know it’s too early for lunch,” Isabella told her great-grandmother. “I was just commenting on what I smell! Let’s shop first—lunch later!”
The old woman studied her great-granddaughter carefully. “Isabella, c’è qualcosa che vuoi dirmi?”
“Mama Rose, in English, please,” Grandma LaFelini asked.
“It’s okay, Grandma, I understood her,” Isabella spoke up. “And no, Nonna, there’s nothing I want to tell you,” she said, answering Nonna Rose’s question but quickly breaking eye contact with her. I swear, Isabella thought, sometimes it’s like the old woman can see right through me! “C’mon, ladies, let’s go shopping!”
After trying on a seemingly endless supply of jeans, Luci finally settled on a pair of dark indigo with a boot cut. “Sheesh, Mom,” Isabella complained to her. “I thought I was bad! I have never seen you try on so many pairs of pants before in my life! You got a hot date or something…?”
Luci blushed deep red. “Um, n-no,” she stammered. “I just…I just wanted some jeans that didn’t make me look like a soccer mom…”
“Sock mom? What is?” Nonna Rose asked in her thick accent.
Isabella laughed. “Soccer, Nonna. Come il calcio. Calcio. The sport, like football?” Seeing no change in the puzzled look on her great-grandmother’s face, she continued to explain, “Gioca con una palla. Calcio?” Played with a ball. Soccer?
“Ah,” Nonna Rose finally understood. “Calcio. Como si dice in inglese?”
“Soccer. You say ‘soccer’ in English. And what it means is that my mom doesn’t want to look old and frumpy.”
“Frumpy? What is frumpy?”
Isabella laughed. “Here we go again! Um, Nonna, frumpy is…” She looked to Grandma Theresa for help. “Gram, what’s the Italian word for frumpy?”
Theresa shrugged. “I have no idea. There probably isn’t a word for ‘frumpy’ in Italian. Let me think. Um, brutta? Does brutta work?”
Isabella laughed. It was amazing to her how much of her Italian was coming back even though she hadn’t practiced it in months. “Ha, ha, yes, ugly! Mom doesn’t want to look ugly, Nonna!”
“I heard that, Isabella!” her mother called over the dressing room door. “Very funny! And what’s wrong…” she continued as she exited the dressing room, “with wanting to look nice?”
“Nothing, Mom. Nothing at all. Except you always do look nice. No matter what you’re wearing. Sierra says that you’re hot for a mom.”
Luci blushed again. “Hot, huh? I wouldn’t go that far…” she protested, but Isabella could see she was secretly pleased, so she continued.
“And Ty? Ty says he can’t believe you’re 35—he said you could easily pass for 28. Maybe even 25,” she embellished.
“Okay, now you’re lying!” Luci told her as she playfully swatted her behind. “Let me pay for these—and the two pair you’re holding—and yes, you can get the green top, too.” Isabella rushed to hug her. “And then let’s go get something to eat—I think the grandmothers are bored!”
The women emerged from the department store laughing. The laughter continued until the older women abruptly stopped and stared at a building housing a Baby Gap. Isabella followed her mother’s and grandmothers’ gaze. It was the Taylor Building. The building. Her daddy’s last work site. Isabella fought back the tears that she saw in her mother’s eyes.
“Mio Dio in cielo,” Nonna Rose said, making the sign of the cross by touching her forehead, her center chest and then each side. “Caro nipote, riposo in pace.” My God in Heaven. And dear grandson, rest in peace.
The four women stood there, staring at the building, speechless other than Nonna Rose’s blessing. As the awkward silence continued for several minutes, Isabella stopped fighting the tears and let them flow down her cheeks. Oh, Daddy, she thought, I miss you so much…
Luci put an arm around her daughter. “I know, Isabella, I know. It’s more difficult than I dreamed it would be.”
Isabella nodded. “I…I…I didn’t think it would be so hard, Mom. I thought we could come to New York, and have a good time and…I never thought about this. About seeing the building. About remembering. About…” She stopped speaking and began to cry harder.
Luci held her close, as her grandmothers gathered closer. “Shhh, it’s all right. It’s okay, Isabella. Just let it out. Let it out.” She stroked Isabella’s long red hair and rocked her back and forth until the girl felt cried out.
“Oh my God,” Isabella said when she finally came up for air. “I just made a complete fool of myself on one of the richest streets in New York!” She futilely tried to wipe away the mascara that had left long grayish-black streaks on her face. “I must look horrible!”
“Not ‘orrible,” Nonna Rose told her as she spit on her handkerchief and starting rubbing Isabella’s face. “You wear too mucha that black goo anyways!”
“Nonna,” Isabella told her, squirming under the old woman’s touch, “‘that black goo’ is called mascara. And my eyelashes are too light without it! They hardly show!”
“You’re a pretty girl, Isabella. You don’a need that stuff!”
“I have to agree with Nonna Rose,” Grandma LaFelini spoke up. “You’re a pretty girl, Isabella. You don’t need any make-up. You really have grown into a very beautiful young woman. I’m sure that my Bobby is smiling in heaven just seeing the wonderful young lady you’ve become. I just know that he is.”
Isabella smiled fondly. “Well, thank you, Gram, I hope Daddy is happy with what he sees, but I want him to be able to see my eyelashes!”
The four women laughed. “That’s my daughter—stubborn to the core,” Luci sighed. “Come on, ladies, let’s get something to eat! I’m suddenly very hungry!”
They made their way into a brightly lit deli. “Mmm,” Luci said, “now that smells good, Isabella!”
Isabella nodded and inhaled deeply. “Oh, yes, Mom…I want one of everything!”
Luci laughed, reminded of Isabella’s same request at La Bella in Little Washington, and proceeded to tell the grandmothers about it as she thought about what to order for lunch.
As Isabella studied the menu board, she absent-mindedly tugged on her pendant. It was a small, leaden square no larger than a half dollar on a leather cord. There was a pattern etched on the square, but the years—and possibly salt water—had eroded it to the point of being unrecognizable. Luci had bought it for her when they had first moved to North Carolina. It had been buried on a back shelf of a dusty little shop that was overburdened with antiques and souvenirs, so much so that it was hard to navigate the aisles. Luci had thought it quite ugly, but Isabella had loved it. The shop owner had claimed it had some tie to pirates—probably in an attempt to extort more money for it, but Luci had said that the ugly thing wasn’t worth more than five dollars and that she wasn’t going to pay a penny more. Isabella had held her breath—she wante
d the thing so badly, although she hardly knew why—until the old man snatched the five dollars out of Luci’s hand with a comment under his breath about “cheap tourists”.
Suddenly, Isabella was aware of Nonna Rose’s presence. The old woman was staring at her, frowning. “Che cos’ è? What is that thing?”
Isabella was puzzled by her great-grandmother’s sudden interest in her necklace. “My necklace? It’s just something Mom got for me when we first moved to North Carolina. It’s a…”
“La maledizione!” The old woman held up her right hand, holding her index finger and little finger straight up while holding the other fingers in a fist. “Male! Male fortuna!” She said the words slowly, pronouncing both syllables: mal-ay, mal-ay for-tuna.
Isabella did not recognize the words her great-grandmother spoke, but she knew the gesture. It was protection—protection against evil. Isabella felt a chill go up her spine. Evil? What evil was the old woman talking about?
“La maledizione,” Nonna Rose exclaimed again. “Maledizione!” And she spat three times, making the sign of the cross and muttering under her breath, all the while fanning herself with her hankie.
Suddenly, Nonna had Grandma Theresa’s attention. “Mama Rose, what’s wrong? You’re all red. Are you overheated? Come, sit down. Please. You look upset. Let me get you a glass of water.”
“Non no bisogno di un bicchiere d’acqua, ho bisogno di un prete!”
Isabella understood most of the first part of Nonna’s sentence—she said she didn’t need a glass of water. But what was it she said in the second part? That she needed a …?
“A priest? Mama, why do you need a priest? Are you having chest pains?” Theresa looked panicked. “Do I need to call an ambulance?”
“La maledizione!” Nonna Rose repeated. “La maledizione!”
“The curse? What curse? Oh, Mama, are you talking about that silly rumored LaFelini curse again? I knew going back to the old country wasn’t a good idea. Like your head isn’t filled enough with superstition and ideas of witchcraft, spirits and other nonsense. There is no such thing as a curse, Mama Rose. If you continue to carry on about such silliness, we’re going to have to talk to Dr. Jeffries about it. Now…enough of that. What would you like to eat for lunch? Their turkey sandwich sounds delicious. Perhaps we could share it?” Grandma Theresa was now speaking to Nonna Rose as though the older woman was a child.
Isabella had watched their conversation in amazement. She tucked her pendant into her shirt, so as to not upset Nonna Rose. Still, she knew that she and the old lady were going to have a talk about the maled…malediz…the curse. It was obvious that Nonna Rose knew a great deal about the LaFelini family curse, and Isabella was convinced that the old woman knew of Isabella’s affliction. Yes, they would definitely talk, but later, when Luci and Theresa weren’t around. This was not a subject for nonbelievers.
Thirteen: New York Takes Isabella
LUNCH WAS DELICIOUS. Isabella hadn’t thought she was hungry, yet she was able to eat a huge fried fish sandwich, chips and coleslaw. Her mother had teased her about ordering fish after eating so much tuna, but she couldn’t help it—the idea of fish sounded terrific. Nonna Rose had calmed down but continued to watch Isabella carefully. Conversation during lunch was a bit stilted—no one wanted to mention Bobby or the Taylor Building nor did anyone want to mention Nonna Rose’s “episode”(as Grandma Theresa labeled it). So they talked about the weather, the crowds, the traffic, and other innocuous subjects. Unsure if it was the dull conversation or her big lunch, Isabella found herself suppressing yawn after yawn, and Luci noticed.
“Are we boring you, Isabella?” she half-teased.
“No, Mom, I’m not sure why I’m yawning. I slept so well last night. I’m going to go to the ladies’ room and splash my face with some cold water. Be right back.”
She walked into the ladies’ room and ducked into a stall. I’ll just sit here for a minute, she told herself. I ’m just so tired…
“Isabella? Are you in here? Isabella? You’ve been in here for nearly a half hour. Isabella?” Luci called.
Isabella yawned and started to answer her mother, but quickly contained herself. No! It can’t be! She stared down at her paws. How…how did I transform? I don’t have the ring…Oh, dear God…no… this can’t be. Holy crap, what am I going to do?
“Where is that girl?” Luci asked aloud as she exited the ladies’ room. “Theresa, did Isabella come out here?”
Theresa looked puzzled. “No, why? I thought she was in the ladies’ room?”
Luci began to panic. “She’s gone, Theresa. Isabella is gone.”
“Gone? Where would she have gone? Go back in and look again.”
“Don’t you think I looked again? She’s not there. She’s not in here. She’s gone!”
“Luci, honey, calm down. Isabella is a smart girl. She wouldn’t have just wandered off. Maybe she’s looking in the window of the store next door. Let’s take a look, all right? Mama Rose, you stay here in case she comes back.”
As the two women got up and went out front of the deli, Nonna Rose went into the ladies’ room. “Bella?” she whispered. “Bella, are you here?” She looked around the room and saw that a high window was open just a crack. She shook her head and mumbled something before she headed out the back door of the restaurant. “Isabella?” she called. “Bella, è Nonna. Lo so di te, Bella. I know about you. Il gatto…the cat. I know.”
At the street end of the alley, Isabella came out from hiding. Nonna Rose knows, she thought with relief. I just knew she would…She started to make her way toward the old woman when suddenly…
“Got ya! You’ve been giving me the slip all week long, you nasty little creature. But I’ve got you now!” The animal control officer threw a loop on a long metal pole around her neck and pulled the loop tight. “You’re coming with me, wild one!”
Isabella panicked as she felt the flexible metal loop tighten around her throat. No! No, this cannot be happening. This cannot be… With all her strength, she tried to wriggle loose, but the action seemed to tighten the noose even more.
“‘Scusi, sir. Mio gatto…you have my cat,” Nonna Rose called as she tried to hurry after the man, moving as quickly as her arthritis would let her.
“Lady, if this is your cat, you can get it at the shelter on 46th after 9am tomorrow. For a fee, that is.”
“Please, sir, it’s important that I take her home…”
“Listen, lady, we’ve had complaints that a red cat has been attacking pet racing pigeons on the roof of the building across the street. I have orders…”
“But she isn’t that cat, I can-a promise you. We…we live in Brook-a-lyn. She got-a into my car today…”
He shook his head. “Sorry. Here’s the phone number and address of the shelter.” He handed her a small white business card. “You can get her tomorrow if it’s determined that she’s not the culprit.”
“Culprit? What is culprit?”
“Guilty of attacking the birds. The birds’ owner saw the cat in question. I have to keep her overnight to see if the birds’ owner can identify her. Sorry. It’s my job, ma’am, but you can come get her tomorrow if you have proof she’s yours. Otherwise, you can adopt her for a small fee, unless it’s determined that she hasn’t been spayed, in which case the fee is higher. Just call the number on the card or come by the shelter—it opens at 9:00am. Have a good day.”
Isabella continued to fight to try to extricate herself from the tight noose around her neck. Spayed? She thought as the realization of the seriousness of the situation began to dawn on her. Oh, dear God. What happens now? They’re going to lock me in a cage? What if I transform before morning? How will I explain that? Worse yet, what if I don’t transform? They’re gonna operate on me! Oh, my God! Please, Nonna Rose, she wanted to scream, but instead thought hard, hoping that she was right about the old woman’s empathic abilities. Please, Nonna Rose, you have to save me!
“Don’a worry, Isabella. I’ll
save you. I’ll getchu tomorra. I promise, Isabella,” Nonna Rose called down the alley as the animal control officer put Isabella in a crate and then into his truck. “I don’a know what I’m a telling your mama, but I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Promise.”
Fourteen: The Rescue
“PENSARE, ROSE, THINK,” Nonna Rose told herself aloud. “How are you gonna get the girl outta this one?” She shook her head. In all the years that she had protected her family from the curse, she had never encountered this particular problem. What could she do? The animal control officer was pretty adamant that he wasn’t going to let her
have Isabella today. Then you’re a-gonna haveta take the girl back from him.
She took a deep breath and hurried as best she could to the end of the alley. Fortunately, traffic was heavy and the animal control truck hadn’t been able to travel very far. Leaning on the brick building at the end of the alley was a teen-aged boy with purple hair and a large ring through his nose. Rose shook her head—she would never understand the kids of today—and approached the youth. After a brief conversation, she slipped him a ten-dollar bill and watched him take the first step in her plan. He ran toward the truck, yelling, “Dude! Come here! There’s a big brown dog over here behind this building, and it has white stuff around its mouth. I’m pretty sure it’s rabies, dude!”
The officer, in a bold move, pulled over across three lanes of traffic and jumped out of his truck. While the purple-haired teen directed him away from his truck, Nonna Rose limped her way toward it. “Isabella? Help Nonna, Bella. Dove sei, amore mia?” Where are you, my love?
“I’m here, Nonna Rose,” Isabella called out in her little cat voice. “Behind you.”
Nonna Rose grabbed the crate and quickly walked away from the truck before the animal control officer could realize he’d been duped. She could hear the boy saying to him, “But seriously, dude, it was here. Big black dog with lots of disgusting foam all over its mouth.”
The First Nine Lives of Isabella LaFelini Page 7
