ear and yells, “You’re the brave one, cousin, not me!”
Maria Beppina feels herself blush. Tears well up.
“I’m not the brave one!” she wants to tell him. “I’m a liar! And you could have been dragged down to the Underworld because of me!”
Maria Beppina opens her mouth, about to tell him all of this—and more!—when Uncle Mimì cuts between them and grabs Maria Beppina’s hands.
“My turn, niece!” he says, pushing Primo out of the way.
As soon as she can get away, Maria Beppina heads outside, where she finds the others. With the Janara mischiefs finally over at their farm, the Twins are in a mood to celebrate. Sergio, on the other hand, is not.
“My problems are NEVER over,” he says, pointing up to his ghost’s apartment. Then, to what looks like an empty window, Sergio shouts, “I know, I know, but what am I supposed to do about it?”
Sergio turns to the others. “He’s complaining about the party,” he says, meaning the ghost. He puts his hands over his ears. “I hate it when Bis-Bis yells at me like this.”
No one else, however, can hear a thing.
Sergio trudges up the stairs to talk to his ghost, and everyone says good night.
“What did you want to tell me back there?” Primo asks Maria Beppina as she climbs the stairs to her apartment.
“Oh, I forget,” she says, and slips inside.
Maria Beppina goes to bed, but sleep is impossible. The party is still going on downstairs, with music and loud laughing and stomping feet. And then there’s all the noise in her head.
Should she have told Primo the truth? Or is it okay to lie when you are keeping a secret?
There are other things to wonder about too. Like: What made it hail? How is it that Primo didn’t get snatched by a Manalonga there on the bridge? Could he be right about the ring? What if it was the reason the Clopper and her demons were nice to her? The experience with them seems so strange now, Maria Beppina starts to wonder if it really happened at all.
The curiosity gets Maria Beppina up out of bed. She puts on her dress and goes down the stairs. Nearing the Theater, she happens upon Amerigo Pegleg. With his eyes closed, the old soldier dances to the distant music, spinning himself around on his wooden leg like a top.
Now, Maria Beppina stands at the edge of the open arena. She grew up with Daddy telling her how the Romans used to feed prisoners to the lions, and how the people in the audience cheered. When she came here, she always felt like one of those prisoners. Not anymore.
She starts walking. Not running, but walking. Slowly. Her heart thumps, but there is no other sound, no clopping.
Maria Beppina arrives at the short rickety door that leads down to the Clopper’s.
Should she knock?
Yes. Because beyond fear, beyond curiosity, there is something more important. She wants to see the Clopper and the three demons again because they are her friends, and she wants to tell them all that’s happened. They’ll think it’s funny, won’t they?
She knocks.
TOC TOC
“Is that you, dearie?” Maria Beppina hears a muffled old lady voice from somewhere deep inside, as well as hooting and chattering. “Oh, let me open that for you! I can make you some chamomile tea. . . .”
Life goes on, but our book is done!
So now you you know who we three really are. HELLO! You have also witnessed that curiosity is not such a bad thing after all, and certainly more important than always following the rules.
And what of YOUR curiosity, dear reader? Do you wonder about the same things that keep Maria Beppina awake at night? Or other questions, like who was sleeping in that hut? Or what that mark on the ring really means? Or how Isidora knows the Clopper is harmless?
I could tell you, but isn’t it more fun to find out on your own? Read on, dear friend, read on.
WITCHONARY
IN Benevento, any kind of supernatural being is called a witch. And boy, are there a lot of them.
The Clopper: An old witch believed to be the last of her particular kind. She haunts the open square of the Theater, chasing children who dare cross it. Every kid in Benevento knows the clop clop clop of her one wooden clog!
Demons: Wily magical creatures who live among humans disguised as animals. In Benevento, 1 in 7 cats are demons, unless they are black, in which case it’s 2 out of 3. Dogs, on the other hand, are never demons. Goats almost always are.
Ghosts: Spirits of those who died before their time. They must be taken care of by the descendants in whose homes they dwell. (Also called Ancestor Spirits.)
Goblins: Animal-like creatures whom Janara often keep as pets.
Janara: (Juh-NAHR-uh) Certain men and women can transform themselves into this type of witch by rubbing a magic oil into their armpits and saying a spell, after which they fly off to their famous tree to start a night of mischiefs. Janara belong to a secret society and don’t dare reveal their secret identities to anyone!
Manalonga: (Man-uh-LONG-uh) The most feared of all witches. They lurk under bridges or inside wells and try to snatch children for unknown (but surely sinister) purposes.
Mares: A type of goblin who sits on children’s chests at night, causing bad dreams.
Spirits: Witches who have no earthly bodies and live in one particular place, be it a house, chimney, stream, or arch. Types of spirits include ghosts, house fairies, and water sprites.
Life was very different in Benevento in the 1820s.
HERE’S HOW THEY LIVED.
Could kids read? No way! Not many of them, anyway. Their parents couldn’t read either. Reading was considered weird.
Eyeglasses were rare. Since folks couldn’t read anyway, there wasn’t much point.
Shoes were only for fancy people.
Forks were considered fancy, too. Why use utensils when you can use your fingers? Especially for pasta! (Which was then called maccheroni.)
Most people spent a lot of time hungry, especially in winter. All food was local, so you could only eat what was in season, or preserved somehow. There was no canned food, no refrigerators or freezer. Come February, people ate a lot of dried beans and figs.
Stairs were on the outside of houses, even if the same family lived on two floors.
Most people never lived anywhere but the home they were born in. Some never left the town they were born in. Not even once.
There was no electricity. For light, you used a candle or an oil lamp.
Houses didn’t have water, either. To get some, you needed to take a bucket to a well or fountain. To wash clothes, you went to the river. Oh, and if you needed to use a toilet, you had to go outside for that, too!
If you want to learn MORE, please visit www.witchesofbenevento.com.
HISTORICAL NOTE
THE WITCHES OF BENEVENTO is set in 1820s Benevento.
Benevento was an important crossroads in Roman times and was the capital of the Lombards in Southern Italy during the early Middle Ages.
Even before the Romans conquered it, the town was famous as a center of witches. (Its original name, Maleventum—“bad event”—was switched by the Romans to Beneventum—“good event”—in hope of changing things. It didn’t work.) For hundreds of years, Benevento was believed to be the place where all the witches of the world gathered, attending their peculiar festivals at a walnut tree near the Sabato River.
The people of Benevento, however, never believed there was anything wrong with witches, and maybe that’s why they had—or thought they had—so many of them.
JOHN BEMELMANS MARCIANO
I grew up on a farm taking care of animals. We had one spectacularly nice chicken, the Missus, who lived in a stall with an ancient horse named Gilligan, and one rooster, Leon, who pecked our heads on our way home from school. Leon, I have no doubt, was a demon. Presently I take care of two cats
, one dog, and a daughter.
SOPHIE BLACKALL
I’ve illustrated many books for children, including the Ivy and Bean series. I drew the pictures in this book using ink made from black olives and goat spit. This year, I received a shiny gold Caldecott Medal for Finding Winnie. I grew up in Australia, but now my boyfriend and I live in Brooklyn with a cat who never moves and a bunch of children who come and go like the wind.
Looking for more?
Visit Penguin.com for more about this author and a complete list of their books.
Discover your next great read!
Beware the Clopper! Page 4
