It is sweet and delicate, this voice, almost like a song, and more beautiful than any voice he has ever heard.
“Who are you pretending to be?” Primo shouts.
I'm not pretending to be anyone, the voice says. It's just me—the Manalonga.
The blood in Primo's body runs cold.
I heard you found my ring, Primo. That's wonderful news! You are quite right about its power, too. We can't hurt you while you have it hanging around your neck. I just so want to see my beautiful ring again! Would you please come to the edge so I can see it? Just a bit closer?
Primo feels the sweat glaze his palms. He gulps. Is this really a good idea?
He takes a second step.
Don't worry! You'll be fine, Primo. I'm not a terrible monster or anything. Not that it even makes a difference. After all, you and I both know I can't hurt you while you have my ring.
Can it be lying?
Of course it can be lying! That's what Manalonga do—they lie!
It is agony, to wait there one step away. Primo feels like he is in a nightmare he can't wake up from. He looks back to the others. They are calling to him, but he can't hear them, not over the roar of the water and the sweet coaxing voice of the Manalonga.
Now the Manalonga begins to sing a beautiful tune. Primo can't understand the words, or even what language they're in. He touches the ring, for strength, but it doesn't feel hot with power. It feels cold and dead against his chest.
But this is not the moment to be a coward. Primo screws up his courage and takes that final step. He leans over the edge . . .
And feels himself get hit by something. Then again. Now he is getting pelted.
A thunderclap sounds, and Primo realizes what is hitting him: hail! The icy balls pound the bridge like rifle shots and roll down its slopes like marbles.
Suddenly, Primo feels Isidora grabbing him by the arm and pulling him down the ramp of the bridge. Then they start running with the other kids through the battering hail to take cover in the watchtower.
Primo laughs uncontrollably the whole way there, and is still laughing when they get inside. That's when Isidora slaps him square across the face. Hard!
“Wasn't one of you getting snatched by a witch today enough for you, Primo!?” Isidora's voice loudly echoes off the walls.
“If bravery equaled smarts,” Emilio says, shaking his head, “then you'd be a genius.”
Maria Beppina comes in just then, the last one running, as usual. She throws her arms around Primo.
“Bravery is genius,” Maria Beppina says into Primo's ear. “And so are you!”
She is hugging him so hard it actually hurts.
11
TARANTELLA PARTY
FURNITURE is being moved out into the street from the apartment. First comes Isidora with a chair, then Momma with a pot, Nonna Jovanna with a stool, Maria Beppina with another chair, and Primo and Poppa with the table.
“Hey, what's going on?” Sergio yells down from his window across the side street.
“It's a party!” Primo yells up.
The band arrives, straight off the coach from Naples. As they warm up, Poppa grabs Momma and pulls her into the middle of the now-empty room to have the first dance. She is grumpy about the party. Who on earth would pay for a band when they can't afford clothes? Still, when Poppa starts doing his silly hop, Momma can't help but laugh and do the tarantella, too.
The sounds of the hammers and saws of men working in the alleys stop early. People from all over the Triggio start to trickle—then stream—in. The party wasn't supposed to start until the evening bell, but it has started anyway. On the way in the door, the men slap Primo on the back and the ladies pinch his cheek.
It's the first hot day of the year outside and even hotter inside with all the bodies packed in. The music and chatter are so loud it's hard to hear, but who cares? Everyone wants to celebrate—the long Janara season is finally over, and spring has taken root.
Primo is happy for the party. For three days, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about what happened on the bridge. Did the ring protect him against the Manalonga by magically making it hail? Or was that just dumb luck?
Primo also keeps thinking about Maria Beppina. The way she held him so tightly—was she really that afraid of something happening to him? When she got caught by the Clopper, he had been more worried about his ring than Maria Beppina. It makes Primo feel like a jerk. But he was always kind of a jerk to her. Which makes him just feel bad.
He also feels like a fraud. Bravery is genius! Maria Beppina said to him, but she is the one who stood up to a witch. And escaped!
Everyone is clapping and stomping and taking turns dancing. That is, everyone is taking turns dancing with Poppa. Primo goes to where Maria Beppina is talking with the Twins, and as he does, Poppa pulls them all into the center, Primo to dance with Rosa and Maria Beppina with Emilio. (Sergio, seeing what is happening, hurries to hide. He hates to dance.)
Primo and Rosa don't so much dance as try to outdo each other, while the other two try their best to stay out of the way. Then it is time to switch partners and Primo is with Maria Beppina.
As they dance, Primo leans toward her ear. “You're the brave one, cousin, not me!” he says.
Maria Beppina blushes. She then seems about to tell him something, but Poppa cuts in and starts dancing with her.
Primo wonders what she was going to say, and he means to ask her, but with so much else going on at the party, he forgets.
Our book is done, but life goes on!
SO, maybe bravery is not such a bad thing after all. At least, not so bad when you have good friends and family and a little bit of luck.
But what of these family and friends? Are they all telling Primo the truth? Do they have secrets of their own? Don't you just wish you could go inside their heads and find out what they are REALLY thinking?
Oh wait, you can!
Lucky reader—you have more books awaiting you. And you MUST read them, because don't you need to know whether or not Rosa actually stopped the Janara? (I believe her twin brother sees things rather differently!) And what really happened when the Clopper snatched Maria Beppina? What was she about to tell Primo,anyway?
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.
Kids didn't go to school, they worked. They still learned; it was just how to be a craftsman, like a baker or a candlemaker.
Could kids read? No way! Not many of them, anyway. Their parents couldn't read either. Reading was considered weird.
Shoes were only for fancy people.
There was a lot of dirt. Roads were dirt. The floor of most homes was dirt.
Most people never lived anywhere but the home they were born in. Some never left the town they were born in. Not even once.
Telling time was totally different then. Mostly, you listened for bells—the dawn bell, the work bell, the noon bell. But if you lived outside of town, you told time by the sun (and maybe the crow of the rooster).
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. 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.
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