The Witch of Little Italy

by Suzanne Palmieri

  “Her little hand left mine in slow motion, and she walked down the stairs, taking tentative, princess steps. George ran in. He looked around at all of us wildly. He met her halfway on the staircase.

  “‘Babygirl?’ George called to her, quietly.

  “‘Stay away from her, Uncle George! She’s coming with me!’ screamed Carmen.

  “Mimi put her hand on Carmen’s shoulders. ‘Give them time.’

  “George looked at his best pal. ‘Babygirl?’ The girl hesitated and George … my sweet brother George, plopped right down on the stairs and turned her around to look into his eyes.

  “‘You’re gonna stay with us, okay?’ he was sniffling. ‘You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.’

  “‘Who are you?’ asked Babygirl.

  “‘What?’ George was choking back his tears. ‘Please don’t leave me. Please? I need you. I love you. Please?’ An old man begging a young child. It was heartbreaking.

  “The girl put her hand on his cheek ever so gently, like cupping an orchid.

  “And that’s when the enormity of my mistake occurred to me. She didn’t remember anything. There she was, alone on the stairs, surrounded by strangers. How brave she was.

  “‘I’m supposed to go with you? Are you my mother?’ she asked Carmen.

  “Carmen, confused and flustered, pushed off Mimi’s hands. She ran to Babygirl and picked her up. Babygirl was too big to be carried. Her skinny legs dangled by her mother’s side. It reminded me of the rocking chair. Carmen was always running away with things much too heavy for her to handle.

  “Anyway, she carried her daughter out of the building screaming all kinds of things out of her mean mouth. Things like, ‘What did you do to her?’ ‘Fuck you people,’ and ‘crazy.’

  “Again, we are all crazy. Every human being has the capacity for crazy. I suppose Carmen knew that best of all.

  “The taxicab was gone in a smudge of yellow and we were all left there alone, each in our own way. Little Anthony, who watched the whole thing through the banister bars, Fee from the doorway of 1B. Me at the top of the staircase … Mimi on the front stoop watching her little family get away—again.

  “But none of us was left more alone than George, who began to weep.

  “I tried to comfort him. There was so much to make right. I thought maybe my deal was one way. Perhaps I could use my words, forgive him. I opened my mouth but all there was, was that ever so familiar dryness. ‘Get off me!’ he shouted shrugging my touch and standing up … shorter somehow.

  “He went to the top of the staircase. He looked down over all of us. For a moment he began to shimmer, I thought he might just disappear, but it wasn’t that at all. It was the light coming out of him.

  “‘I am not Georgie anymore. I am only George. Old man George. I will no longer play,’ he stated before he went into his apartment and slammed the door. ‘Leave me alone,’ we heard.

  “And that was the day Georgie died for the second time. Killed The Day the Amores Died. Resurrected that sweet summer by Babygirl, and killed one more time by yours truly. Grumbly George of 170th Street became a mean old man. Smelly, too. Was it worth it? I don’t know. Now that she’s back, I don’t know anything anymore. And you don’t know anything either, do you, Cooper? Don’t know who you are or what you want. Not even a full person. ‘New to the planet,’ Mama would say. And if I don’t kill part of you, you’ll kill her. It’s clear as day to me. And Cooper, I can’t let that happen. I have to protect her the right way this time. Mimi was wrong. So was Mama. We can change what we see. There’s more power inside of us than we’ll ever know.”

  Itsy stopped talking and took a long look at Cooper.

  She sat down on the floor. “So it’s my job…” Itsy felt the pain at the back of her neck pulse through to her chest. “My goodness? Is it time already?”

  And then Itsy, with one frail hand, covered Cooper’s mouth. “Don’t be scared, Cooper. You won’t die. I’m no killer. But I can’t let you leave here remembering anything. So I have to try the Forgetting spell one more time. Only this time, I have to make sure it’s completely binding and can never be undone. So I’m taking your memories with me, Cooper. It’s the only way.”

  She applied pressure to his mouth while letting the constriction in her own chest pull at his soul. It didn’t take long.

  Itsy laid her head in Cooper’s lap waiting for her death, waiting to see the blankness of the spell envelop his eyes. Her soft silver curls fell gently across his legs. Then, there it was, the look. A wave of anguish, a kind of empty sorrow she’d never felt. It was Cooper’s soul. Free and yet not free. “Forgive me?” she asked. “Please forgive me, Mama? Henry? George? I did it for Elly!”

  The pain came again. And passed again. Cooper was looking down at her with a curiosity that assured her she’d wiped him clean. He was a tabula rasa. A blank slate. No past. No violence, no memory of Elly.

  Itsy waited for the final, suffocating pain, but it didn’t come. Instead, she saw Henry in his uniform open the wall in front of her, the wall covered in dogwood flowers had become a dogwood forest.

  He called her by her real name, and she ran to him shedding her old lady self on the floor with Cooper. One dead, one newly born. One young, one old. Both traveling in different directions through light and time.

  * * *

  The boy looked down at the old woman, dead in his lap, and began to cry. He didn’t know where he was, or who he was. But he knew the woman had something of his that he could never get back. The tingling in his limbs began to fade and soon he was able to get up, making sure to lay the woman’s head gently on the ground. And then sat on the couch. The boy waited for something to happen, because there was nothing else to do.

  32

  The Amore Sisters

  Fee and Mimi came home from the feast late. After Elly had gone with Willow the two decided to go to the saint alone and pin money on her. Mimi felt a tugging in her soul that told her they needed some luck. When they reached the building they were welcomed by flashing lights and sirens. They looked at one another exchanging a knowing glance. Itsy’d warned them, but they’d hoped—there was always hope.

  The two sisters reached out for each other’s hands. Together they pushed past the emergency people. Together they watched Elly and Anthony speaking to police officers. Elly’s hands waving in the air importantly. Elly saw them and she tried to lunge past the blue uniforms, but they held her back.

  Mimi said “I live here” to a younger officer who was guarding the front door. She placed her old, shaking hand on top of his. He started to stop her, but a look of warm recognition washed over his face. “Mrs. Amore! What an honor. My Ma came to you a few years back. Terrible headaches she was having. That tea. It cured her! Thank you!”

  “It’s what we do,” said Mimi. “Tell your Ma to come see us anytime.”

  The officer let them into hallway. “He’s been here,” said Fee trying to whisper.

  “I know. I can smell him. She’s orchestrated this whole thing, our sister. She did a wonderful job,” said Mimi.

  “Are you ready?” asked Fee.

  “Are we ever ready?” asked Mimi as she opened the door to her apartment.

  Mimi and Fee found Itsy’s body on the gurney in the middle of Mimi’s living room. Her face was zipped over with black plastic.

  Mimi unzipped the body bag and touched her sister Itsy’s cold face. “My, how things change, love. That other day, the day the rest of them went, there was white cotton against them. Look at this,” Mimi flipped the cold, hard plastic. “Time cheapens everything, doesn’t it?”

  Fee started crying. The sisters took hands for one last time. Two alive and one dead, they made a circle. “Godspeed Itsy,” cried Fee.

  Back on the front stoop Mimi spoke to the police officer.

  “What happened to the boy?”

  “Are you related to him? We took him downtown. He doesn’t remember anything. Said he woke up and Itsy was dead. If
you know him you can collect him.”

  “And if we don’t?” yelled Fee.

  “Then the state will take care of him.”

  The two old women nodded. “As it should be,” said Mimi.

  * * *

  Later that night Elly went in search of her grandmother and remaining aunt. They were in the garden sitting on the bench. Both had their hands, palm up in their laps.

  “Mimi?” asked Elly, softly. “Fee?”

  The women tilted their heads toward her in unison.

  “May I sit with you?”

  “No,” said Mimi.

  Elly was startled by the cold response, “Why?”

  The women did not answer her.

  Elly realized that she was witnessing a quiet grief she’d never seen before. She left them alone, but was more determined than ever to be one of them. She would claim her spot as an Amore woman. She’d never sensed so much strength, so much wisdom. So many treasures. Elly knew she had to earn a spot on that bench, and this new Elly wasn’t one to step away from a challenge.

  * * *

  There was a line outside the funeral parlor that stretched down the block. The wake started at three. Mimi, Fee, and the new third Amore, Elly, were seated at the right hand of the casket in pink velvet chairs. Anthony sat with them, and there was an extra chair for Carmen, in case she showed up.

  “I wonder where Liz is? I wonder if she even knows. I haven’t heard from her in days,” said Elly.

  “I’m sure she’s here somewhere, there’s so many people,” said Anthony.

  The flowers were lovely, the sentiments were real. Elly could tell when the mourners kissed her on the cheek—each touch a spark of a nice memory. Itsy would be missed.

  The next morning they all arrived again. Another testament to Itsy and her quiet yet appreciated life. It was time for a final good-bye. Elly knelt on the prayer bench and placed a square, white, crocheted blanket she’d made with Itsy. The blanket had Itsy’s baby inside. Then she put her hands on her aunt’s cold hands. A shock of light went through her mind, and this time she knew the memory would burn itself there. This was the real thing. A solid thing. The true answer.

  Babygirl

  Babygirl heard Mimi on the phone. Carmen was coming back, coming to take her away. Babygirl turned around in circles not knowing what to do. She ran to the front windows, it was so hot and her hands, nervous already and sweaty moved back and forth over the twisted metal bars that decoratively kept them all safe while they slept. What will keep me safe now? she wondered.

  She looked for the yellow taxicab to come and take her away. No! She had to find George. She ran out into the hall but Mimi had her by the neck of her dress. “You have to go home, honey. She’s better now and she’s your mother. You belong with her.”

  “No I don’t!” cried Babygirl, kicking and screaming. She turned around to bite Mimi’s wrist. Mimi let her go.

  “Georgie!” She ran up the stairs. Uncle George would keep her safe. He always could. She ran into his apartment.

  “What, Babygirl, what’s goin’ on?”

  Babygirl told him her news. She could tell he was mad. “Oh. We’ll just see about this. I’ll go get Itsy. You go hide.”

  “Hide where?” Babygirl was quiet. Her eyes were wide. Frightened.

  “Hide in that place where we can’t never find you. Duh!”

  Babygirl smiled and went on tiptoe to kiss her Uncle. “You are the smartest uncle in the world, Georgie! I love you so much!”

  George kissed her back, blushing and left the apartment. Babygirl could hear him running down the stairs calling, “Itsy!”

  Babygirl knew just where to go. She ran through the apartment and went through the secret door. She hid in her special spot and waited. It didn’t take long before she noticed the trunk, the one she’d forgotten all about … and now was as good a time as any to do some serious treasure hunting.

  The hairpin. Was it still on the floor? Yes! She opened the trunk and … Everything. Most all of Elly’s memories came through in that very moment.

  * * *

  Elly was hunched, crying, and didn’t notice Carmen make her appearance. She felt a presence next to her and heard the creaking of the bench as Carmen knelt next to her. Elly didn’t want to look up. Didn’t want to hope it was her mother.

  Carmen cleared her throat, “They sure made the old girl look good.”

  Elly looked up. It was her mother.

  “Mom? Mommy!” Elly threw herself into Carmen’s arms. Carmen, unused to this sort of affection from her usually distant daughter, timidly patted Elly on the back. “What is it, Eleanor? It isn’t so sad, you know. She was old.”

  Elly lifted up her head. “No, not that,” she sniffled. “Well, it is, but it isn’t. It’s so much more than that!” she stood up. “Oh, Mom! I remember! I remember everything now!” Elly, overcome with all that she now remembered and understood tried to hug Carmen, who pulled roughly away.

  “Why didn’t you take my calls? Why won’t you hug me? I need to talk to you.” Elly begged.

  “Please stop, you’re embarrassing me!” said Carmen through clenched teeth.

  Elly searched her mother’s eyes for any sort of compassion. She searched Carmen looking for the mother she remembered. The mother from “before.” All she saw was confusion and rage. Elly ran from the room.

  “Well?” asked Mimi. “What are you waiting for, Carmen? Better go after her. You only get but a few chances in this life to make things right.”

  Carmen looked at her mother and started to say a million things. They poured out with stuttered starts and frustrated pointer finger accusations. In the end, she gave out a small yell, threw her hands in the air and stomped out of the room after her daughter.

  “What a scene!” yelled Fee.

  Mimi just shook her head.

  “Don’t worry,” said Anthony, putting his arms around both women. “They’ll be fine.”

  “You’re a good boy,” said Mimi, who rested her head against his strong shoulder for support.

  * * *

  Carmen left the wake room with everyone’s eyes on her. A state she usually lived for and thrived in, but right now it seemed everyone wanted her to be someone she wasn’t. There was a part of Carmen that didn’t want to chase after her daughter and make amends. A part of her that felt it was too late.

  But being a mother is just like playing a role, and Carmen wasn’t about to be the dysfunctional one. Mimi’s understudy? Carmen thought not. “Where did you go, preggers?” she whispered under her breath in the lavish funeral parlor hallway. A cool breeze danced in from the direction of the back hall. Carmen took the cue. At the back door there was a restroom. She investigated. No Eleanor.

  “May I help you?” an overly tall man asked, surprising Carmen.

  “Have you seen an enormous young woman try to run this way?”

  The man shook his head and walked back to a door that read “Office.” Carmen noticed an unmarked door next to that one.

  “What’s in there?” she asked the man’s back.

  “Our showroom. Have a look around. Then he turned to her and smiled. He was missing some of his teeth. “Let me know if you see anything you like.”

  A chill spread across Carmen’s skin, even under her black, silk crepe sundress. She opened the door to the showroom and saw rows and rows of coffins. She walked in and closed the door behind her. “Yeah … right. Something I like, my ass!”

  Carmen identified the classification of coffins immediately. The cheapest were pushed off to the side. The more expensive caskets lined the ends of the row. The whole room reminded her of a church, only there were caskets instead of people lined up in pew formation. At the “altar” end of the room was a row of what seemed to be the priciest. And one coffin, silver with gold trim, was not on a stand, it was on a small platform and it was slightly ajar. Carmen smiled. “Found you,” she said.

  Carmen walked down the row and then lifted the lid of the coffin reveal
ing Elly, her pregnant belly too large to close the lid all the way. Her arms crossed over her chest. The scene, both hilarious and surreal, gave Carmen a moment of pause. This was her child. And estranged or not, it was overwhelming to see her in a coffin.

  “Get up, Eleanor.” Carmen was done with the funny part of the situation.

  No answer from the coffin, just the rise and fall of her swollen belly.

  “Get up!” demanded Carmen.

  “Call me by my name,” the pretend corpse said.

  “Oh for Christ sake! Get up, Elly, please?”

  Elly sat up, her hair and eyes wild. “Will you talk to me now?”

  “I came to find you, didn’t I?” Carmen rummaged in her large, soft leather purse for her cigarettes. She found them and took one out, tapped it on the case and lit it up.

  “I don’t think you are allowed to smoke in here,” said Elly.

  Carmen laughed. “This from the pregnant girl in the coffin? Nice job, by the way. Very dramatic. There’s a little of me inside of you, don’t deny it.”

  “It wasn’t very well thought out. I couldn’t close the damn thing,” said Elly.

  “Language!” Carmen teased. They both laughed. Tension melted away.

  Elly tried to get up. “Can you help me? It was easier getting into this thing.”

  “Sure, love.”

  Love, she said love … thought Elly.

  Carmen rested her cigarette on the coffin beside the one Elly was in and helped her daughter, gracelessly, out of the box.

  Elly held on to Carmen even after she was free of the coffin. “Mom, I missed you so much. And I miss her. I miss Aunt Itsy so much and it’s all my fault. Cooper was coming for me, not Itsy. And she felt she had to protect me. And if I’d remembered everything sooner I’d have known. I’m good at knowing things. Or I was. When I was little, right? I had good instincts about people.”

  “Well, you did have good instincts about the schmuck who sold me that bad junk that made me crazy. You kicked him in the shin before we left the pub that night.”

  “And I tried to stay away from you because I knew you didn’t mean to hurt me,” said Elly.