The Saint of Lost Things
Page 31
On the boardwalk, he stops before Papà Franco’s old bench. He stands Prima on top of it and asks if she remembers him. Of course she does not. She can only squirm and clap and point at the teenagers hopping barefoot on the hot planks. Still, Antonio tells her about her nonno, how he loved this beach, this view. “Be good to me,” Antonio says to the passing teenagers, his arms outstretched, in a perfect impersonation of his father’s voice. “I might not be here next Sunday.” Then he scoops his daughter back into his arms, lifts her over a scatter of broken glass, and sets her down in the shade on the other side.
Soon Prima will be a little lady, and Maddalena will have her to turn to and talk with, like a friend. They will speak English to each other in public, Italian at home or when they don’t want the Americans to understand. They will have many secrets, precious as rubies. She will help her keep watch over the second child, who, if God chooses, will be the first Grasso son born in the new country.
Rarely does Maddalena allow herself the pleasure of such a thought. A son! But today, with so many ghosts hovering on the beach, she seeks the comfort of the possibility. He will be named Franco, unless Mario and Ida beat them to it; otherwise, they will call him Antonio. Totò for short. The pride of his father, who will teach him to run a restaurant and play scopa and drive a convertible. Life will be easy for him, Maddalena thinks, for all the Grasso children. They will lead lives unrecognizable to hers, never longing for stone or mountains or olive trees, knowing only brick and skyscrapers and perfect green lawns. Words will come easily to them. They will marry late and spend their long youths choosing. She wishes them not luck or money; they will have both, as much as they want, or is necessary. Instead she wishes them fearlessness in all things: in love, yes, but also in work, in expectation, in the leap from the high rocks, in looking back, and in forgetting.
Acknowledgments
Mille grazie, a thousand thanks, to the following:
My wonderful family and friends, for their constant encouragement. I am privileged to have such patient and loving people in my life.
Michelle Chalfoun, my first reader always, for her vision, insight and generosity.
Antonia Fusco, my supremely wise and gracious editor, for seeing into, through, between, and beyond the words I send her.
Mary Evans, the lucky authors’ agent, for never compromising.
Elisabeth, Craig, Peggy, Michael, Ina, and everyone at Algonquin Books, for their hard work and dedication.
Everyone at Grub Street, first and foremost Eve Bridburg, for their glorious friendship, financial support, and for making this trip significantly less lonely.
Francesco Castellano, for his crucial help with the Italian words in this book.
Steve Almond, Jenna Blum, Scott Heim, Michael Lowenthal, and Heidi Pitlor—amazing authors all—for happy hours, scandalous conversations, long lunches, and expert guidance.
Allison Adair, for her lovely translation of “Terra Straniera.”
The Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, especially Michael Collier, for letting me grow up on that magic mountain.
The staff of the Diesel Café and True Grounds in Somerville, and the Singing Starbucks in West Medford, for the (almost) free office space.
Michael Borum, with whom the days pass happily, the nights are full of stars, and life is a grand adventure. What can anyone give me greater than now . . .
Published by
Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill
Post Office Box 2225
Chapel Hill, North Carolina 27515-2225
a division of
Workman Publishing
225 Varick Street
New York, New York 10014
© 2005 by Christopher Castellani. All rights reserved.
Translation of “Terra Straniera” on page vii by Allison Adair. Reprinted by permission.
This is a work of fiction. While, as in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on experience, all names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. No reference to any real person is intended or should be inferred.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available for a previous edition of this work.
E-book ISBN 978-1-56512-885-9
Also by CHRISTOPHER CASTELLANI
A Kiss from Maddalena
All This Talk of Love