The All-Powerful Ring

by John Bemelmans Marciano

  This laundry day is going to be special, however. Primo can hardly keep in all he has to say when he gets to the river.

  The Twins are talking about the latest round of Janara mischief to hit their farm, something about bees chasing them.

  “Ah, that's nothing!” Primo says. “You won't believe what happened to me last night!”

  Primo tells the Twins about the eel escaping and luring him to the well and how the Manalonga pretended to be the eel. “And then, I saw”—he leans in and lowers his voice—“it! A Manalonga! It reached its hand out of the well and tried to grab me!” He is now sure that it did.

  The Twins are both impressed that he has seen a Manalonga, although of course Rosa has to tell her story about beating one off with a bucket.

  “But the eel! The eel is what's important,” Primo says. “The eel is a sign!”

  “It does sound like a sign,” Emilio admits. He stops washing the shirt he is holding in the river. “Did you ask Nonna Jovanna about it?”

  “She said it was the biggest sign ever!” Actually, she said it was the worst sign ever, but what's the difference? Primo keeps talking. “It's proof that animals give signs and that if we augur one—like a fish—we can solve your Janara problem for sure.”

  “A runaway eel doesn't prove that at all!” Emilio says. “And you don't—”

  “I know what you're going to say,” Primo says, cutting off Emilio. “You don't know the first thing about auguring! Well, now I do, because I read all about it. In a book!”

  “But you don't know how to read, donkey- brains!” Rosa says.

  “Well, I didn't read it. Maria Beppina did,” Primo says, turning to his cousin. “I went up to her apartment this morning to look through her dad's books. Isn't that right, Maria Beppina?”

  “Well, we did read about auguring,” Maria Beppina says sheepishly. “And it was in a book.”

  There is nothing more the Twins can say. If they read about it in a book, well, they must know what they're doing. Emilio is impressed by anything that comes from a book.

  The thing is, Uncle Tommaso's books only told them what auguring is, not how to actually do it. But Primo isn't going to let this fact ruin his very smart idea of looking in a book in the first place.

  “All we have to do is catch a fish, gut it, and then—”

  “Stop bothering your friends and start washing, you little toad!” Isidora hollers at Primo from across the river.

  Why does his sister always have to nag? She used to be fun, but about six months ago she began to act all moody and weird. Poppa says girls get like that when they turn twelve and you just need to stay out of their way. The problem is that Isidora is always in Primo's way.

  “Start washing, I said!” she repeats.

  “In a minute, in a minute!” Primo yells back, although he has no intention of helping. Auguring is way more important than doing laundry.

  To get started, Primo makes a hook out of some wire and attaches it to a line. He then looks under rocks for a worm, skewers one on his hook, and lowers it into the water.

  Rosa, thinking that auguring is as good an idea as any (and never one to do work instead of have fun), finds an old pole on the bank of the river and—borrowing a knife from one of Emilio's pockets— sharpens it into a spear. She then takes jabs at the water, loudly splashing.

  “Hah! You'll never get one that way!” Primo says, carefully lowering and raising his line and hook.

  “This auguring is the stupidest idea I ever heard of,” Isidora says. “You can't tell anything about a Janara from the insides of a fish!”

  “Like you know anything about Janara!” Primo says.

  “I know more than you think,” Isidora mutters under her breath. She then grabs a basket of wet clothes and walks off. “Do that other basket or you answer to Momma!” she calls back over her shoulder.

  “Oh, I had that one!” Primo says, with every near miss being an even nearer near miss. “And that one! Dang!”

  “Got one!” Rosa shouts. She lifts her spear triumphantly, fish flapping.

  “Lucky stab,” Primo grumbles. “It's so big you couldn't have missed it.”

  Anxious to get started, Primo goes to pull the fish off the spear. Rosa, however, raises it just out of his reach and laughs. And then again.

  “Come on, Rosa!” Primo says.

  Finally allowed to grab it, Primo puts the poor creature out of its misery with Emilio's knife. He then slices the fish open like he's done a hundred times with Poppa, but he isn't quite sure where to go next. The stomach seems like as good a place to start as any, so he cuts it open.

  Something falls out.

  Something shiny.

  “Is that a fishhook?” Rosa asks.

  “This is no fishhook,” Primo says, picking it up. “It's a ring!” He rubs it against his shirt and holds it to the sun.

  “A gold ring!” Emilio says.

  In the next minute, Sergio and Maria Beppina are huddled around them, too, oohing and ahhing.

  “See, I knew it! I told you guys I'd find something important!” Primo says, even though he's as surprised as any of them.

  “Who do you think it belongs to?” Rosa says. “The governor's wife? A queen?”

  “I don't think there are any queens around here,” Maria Beppina says.

  “Well, it's way too fancy for any Triggio dweller, that's for sure,” Sergio says. “It must come from someone up the hill.”

  “Or upriver,” says Emilio. “That fish could have swum from anywhere.”

  “No, guys—don't you see? It's not the ring of a person,” Primo says, an amazing idea dawning on him. “It's the ring of a Manalonga! It must have fallen off when one of them was trying to snatch a kid. And then this fish gobbled it up.”

  “I never heard of Manalonga having rings,” Emilio says.

  “Yeah, I don't remember seeing one on ours,” Rosa adds. But after Sergio says he thinks he heard something about Manalonga and rings, Rosa says, “Oh yeah, I think I did see a ring.”

  “Manalonga are famous for having rings,” Primo says, trying to convince himself as much as anyone. “The one I saw at the well yesterday definitely had one.”

  Rosa touches the ring. “I don't know if it's from a Manalonga or what,” she says. “But it sure is pretty.”

  “Pretty, phooey! Powerful is what it is!” Primo says, snatching it away. “Can't you feel the power coming off of it? It's like heat.”

  The others keep talking, none of them quite convinced the ring is really so powerful, let alone that it belonged to a Manalonga. Primo can hardly hear them, though. The loudest voice in his head is his own, saying over and over:

  THIS IS THE MOST AMAZING THING THAT EVER HAPPENED!

  5

  DESTINY

  “I must have quiet.”

  The voice of Zia Pia is always spooky, just like her home. A weak oil lamp gives off barely enough light to see and casts long shadows everywhere.

  “Quiet . . .” she repeats, closing her eyes and moving her hand in circles above a pitcher.

  “Can you stop breathing so loud?” Primo whispers to Maria Beppina.

  “Sorry,” his cousin says softly, turning red. She tries to breathe less loudly—or stop altogether—but after outrunning the Clopper and climbing Zia Pia's stairs, she can't help herself.

  “Assa . . . massa . . . pissa . . . harissa!”

  Zia Pia speaks her spell like a moan and rubs the air with a turned-down palm.

  Primo can feel the magic working. He is glad he dragged the others here again—Zia Pia will convince them how powerful the ring is!

  The old fortune-teller opens her eyes and pours water from the pitcher into a wide-mouthed bowl she has placed in front of herself. She lifts the ring above the water. “Arissa, fiyo, kayo!” she says and lets the ring fall—
dop!—into the water.

  Zia Pia now lifts the smoking lamp and begins searching for images in the gentle ripples of the water.

  “Mmm, mmm,” she says.

  “What is it?” Primo says. “Do you see something?” Primo thinks he can make out the arm of a Manalonga. Or is it a Janara flying?

  “Mmmm,” Zia Pia says again.

  “What do you see?”

  “What do I see?” Zia Pia says. “I see nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Primo says. “How can you see nothing?”

  “Well I see everything,” the fortune-teller says. “The entire spirit world I see. But of this ring?” She pulls it out of the water. “Nothing.”

  Primo looks down into the bowl. The water is now still. “Are you sure this thing is working?”

  “My silly boy, this ring is nothing but a trinket!” Zia Pia says, pinching Primo's cheek.

  “But I can read disappointment in your cute face as surely as I can read the great beyond, and I can't stand it. I tell you what I will do. I will buy this ring from you. After all, I do love trinkets.” She wiggles her fingers, thick with jeweled rings. “Maybe I will give you . . . twelve quattrini?”

  “A dozen lousy coppers?” Primo says.

  “Fine, one silver scudo,” Zia Pia says, as if she is being too generous. “But that is my final offer!”

  “No way!” Primo says, swiping the ring out of her hand. “I'm a kid, not an idiot!”

  “Two scudi!” The voice of Zia Pia follows them down the stairs. “But that is my final offer!”

  “She was lying to us!” Primo says when they are down in the Theater. “She saw the ring's power! That's why she wanted it for herself—that's PROOF of how powerful this ring is!”

  “Or that it's worth something. It is gold, after all,” Emilio says. “At least I think it is.”

  Primo shakes his head. “That's not the reason,” he says. “That old fortune-teller wants it because it's the ring of a Manalonga. I'm sure of it!”

  “But how can you be sure?” Emilio says. “You're just guessing!”

  “I was right about the auguring, wasn't I?” Primo says.

  “Even a blind hog finds an acorn once in a while,” Rosa says.

  “Look, guys, I don't know about the ring, but I know I have to go give my ghost his offering,” Sergio says. “He'll yell at me if I'm late again.”

  The Twins leave for home also, and then Maria Beppina tells Primo she has to go, too.

  “I believe you, Primo,” Maria Beppina says. “A ring like that has to be magical.”

  What Maria Beppina thinks is no consolation—she always says what Primo wants to hear. It's the others he needs to believe him!

  With nothing to do but head to work, Primo walks up to the vegetable stand alone, disappointed and thrilled. How can you be both?

  Taking the fishing line out of his pocket, Primo tosses away the hook. He then threads the string through the ring and ties the line around his neck, creating an amulet. That done, Primo tucks the dangling ring inside his shirt lest someone try to steal it, or—more likely—his mom make him sell it.

  Primo knows this ring is the most amazing thing ever—the destiny he's been waiting for. The only problem is he has no idea what to do with it.

  At the stand, the last customer of the day is Amerigo Pegleg, as usual. He roots through what bunches of withered greens are left, the stuff Primo would otherwise throw away.

  “Feels like a real Janara night's a-coming, boy,” Amerigo says, looking up at the darkening sky with a smile. “They'll be swarming 'round the old walnut tree tonight!”

  The Tree of the Janara! That's it, Primo thinks.

  The Tree of the Janara is the place where witches gather before going out for a night of mischiefing. It's a couple of hours' walk upriver, next to the Bridge of Ancient Ages. Primo doesn't know anyone who's ever gone to the Tree, at least not at night.

  Of course, no one leaves town after dark on account of all the bandits and wild animals. Primo isn't afraid, however. Not with the ring—this ring.

  Primo imagines exactly how it will go: In the middle of the night, after a long walk, he and the others will arrive at the Bridge just as the demons are stirring their cauldrons and the Janara are swarming around the Tree. When the witches see them, they will swoop like hawks for the kill. As his cousins and Sergio cower, Primo will pull out the ring and the Janara will flee in terror.

  Maybe the ring is so powerful he will be able to catch a Janara by the hair. Imagine that! Nonna Jovanna says if you capture a Janara, your family gets seven generations of good fortune!

  As night falls, Primo locks up the stand. He then takes the ring out from his shirt and holds it in the moonlight.

  A trinket, Zia Pia said! Primo will show her—show everyone—the true power of the ring! The all-powerful ring!

  6

  A VERY LONG NIGHT

  WAITING.

  Why does Primo always have to wait for everything? Waiting is never fun, but it's the worst when you are waiting for something really important.

  From his perch up in the tree—the Tree of the Janara!—Primo looks up at the stars and moon, trying to judge how far across the sky they've wheeled. It must be midnight. So where are the Janara?

  The others had no faith. Or patience. They all left as soon as they got here and saw there weren't any Janara. Well, all of them except the one he most wishes had left.

  Sitting in a different tree—a walnut tree—is Rosa. She believes that her tree is the Tree of the Janara.

  She could not be more wrong. Which tree is the witch tree is so obvious. His tree looks just the way Primo always pictured it, standing right beside the Bridge of Ancient Ages.

  Rosa's tree, on the other hand, isn't even close to the bridge, but that doesn't stop her from insisting she's sitting in the right one. Which is just like her. You could tell her the sky is blue and she'd swear it's green. It drives Primo crazy!

  He can't even look at her sitting in that stupid tree, let alone speak to her. Primo will get the last laugh, however, when the Janara come and start flying around his tree.

  But when will they get here? Primo is willing to stay up here all night if he has to, but how much longer will the Janara make him wait? As the moon and stars wheel farther and farther across the black sky, Primo begins to get mad at the Janara, like their not coming is a mischief they are playing on him.

  “This was your dumbest idea ever!” Rosa says, breaking the silence. “What made you think the Janara would actually come here, anyway?”

  “What do you mean? Everyone knows this is where they come!” Primo says. Then he snaps his fingers. “Hey, I know why they aren't here!”

  “Why?”

  “The ring!” Primo says. “It's so powerful it scared them off! They must be able to feel its magic from miles away!”

  “Ah, fiddlesticks!” Rosa says. “Zia Pia's right! That ring is nothing but a trinket!”

  “Hmph!” Primo says, and goes back to giving her the silent treatment.

  After a while, Rosa yawns, and Primo can't help yawning himself. And again. It is getting so late and Primo is so tired, he just wishes he could sleep. He tries to fight it off, but then he loses track of his thoughts, and his thoughts drift into dreams, and now he is face-to-face with a Janara, and the weird thing is she looks just like his sister, and . . . and . . .

  He feels something hit him. He wakes up.

  “HA! You fell asleep!” Rosa says, and fires another walnut at him.

  “Did not!” Primo says, ducking the flying nut.

  “Did too!” Rosa says and nails him, right on the kneecap.

  “OW!” Primo yelps.

  “Primo the dreamer,

  Primo the schemer,

  Hit him with a walnut

  And Primo's a screamer!�
��

  Rosa is so proud of her rhyme that she chants it over and over again.

  And over again.

  This is going to be a loooong night, but Primo will NOT fall asleep again.

  Primo falls asleep again. This is how he wakes up:

  “Primo! Primo!”

  Primo feels himself being shaken.

  “Primo! Primo!”

  “What is it?”

  “Primo, you have to go look at yourself!” Rosa says. “Go to the river!”

  Primo is in the tree and—seeing the barest glow of dawn to the east—realizes he must have slept half the night away.

  “Why do I have to go look at myself?”

  “Don't you feel something different on your head?” Rosa says, standing on the ground below Primo.

  He does! Feel something different, that is.

  “What is it?” he says.

  “Proof that the Janara came while you were sleeping, that's what!” Rosa says, excited. “Go look in the river and see!”

  Primo practically kills himself hurrying- scurrying down the tree and then the steep bank to the muddy riverbed. Gazing down into the brown mirror of the water, Primo sees what's on his head: Rosa's head scarf.

  “It was a mischief!” Rosa says.

  Primo can't believe it, except of course he can! He knew the Janara would come and is so mad he missed them, and he can't believe they played an actual mischief on him and . . . and . . .

  “Why are you laughing?” he asks Rosa, who is doubled over.

  “The Janara never came, donkey-brains! You were so fast asleep I put my head scarf on you. You look like your grandma!” She snickers.