Sally Boy

by P. Vincent DeMartino

  As she finished the letter, Mama’s stressed face slowly wilted like a rose on a bitter winter day. “Oh my God! This can’t be true!” she shrieked like a frightened little girl. “How can he still be alive after all this time? How can this abandoner want to take our only reason for living, after all the grief he has brought to our family?”

  Cogassi sat slumped over with his head hanging down by his knees. “Mama, you must tell him. I cannot do it. How can I find the words to tell him when I do not understand myself how this can be happening?” he requested in a low, beseeching tone.

  “Papa, why do we have to tell him now? Why upset him before he’s had his breakfast. Can’t we just tell him later?”

  “No! Tell him now. He deserves to know now, and we don’t have much time to get things in order.”

  “But Papa...”

  “Please! Let’s just get this over with now.”

  Taking several deep breaths to collect her thoughts, Mama called out sheepishly to her grandson playing in the other room, “Salvatore, please come here. We need to talk to you.”

  “Coming, Mama,” A sweet adolescent voice respectfully responded from the bedroom.

  Gliding into the kitchen came Salvatore, a handsome nine-year-old boy with big brown, shining eyes, neatly combed black hair, and a thin, athletic body. He wore clean hand-me-down clothes and worn but well-maintained shoes. “Is breakfast ready yet? I’m very hungry,” he inquired politely.

  “Sit down, my love. I need to talk to you.” Mama pulled out her grandson’s usual chair at the table.

  “What’s wrong, Mama?” the boy asked as he hopped up into his seat.

  “Nothing’s wrong, my love.” Forcing a smile, Mama explained, “Salvatore, we have good news for you. What we have to tell you may come as a bit of a shock, so I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say. All right?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “Papa and I really don’t know the best way to tell you this, so we’ll just tell you the best we can. We know that you are a big boy now and you will understand.” Sharing a look of anguish with her husband Mama continued. “Your father...” She cleared her throat. “...your father wrote us and he wants you to go to America to live with him.”

  “My father?” Salvatore cried out in disbelief.

  “Yes, I know we told you that your father was dead. I’m so sorry, my prince. We told you that because we believed it was so. He was supposed to send for you and your mother many years ago, but he never did. Your mother sent him many letters, but he never answered any of them. What else could we believe? But now, we know he is alive, and he wants you to live with him in America. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “No! I won’t go! I want to stay here with you and Papa. My father is dead.”

  “Your father isn’t dead,” Mama repeated sternly. “He sent you a ticket to America. You will be traveling on a big boat to New York in three days to live with him. You’ve always wanted to go on a big boat. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

  “No! You can’t make me go.” In protest, Salvatore slapped his plate off the table.

  Picking up the plate, Mama gently placed it back on the table. “I’m so sorry, my prince. But we have no choice.”

  “Why? Why do I have to go, Mama?”

  “Because he is your father, he is alive, and a boy should be with his father. Salvatore, you will understand everything when you are older. There will be many children your age to play with, the schools will teach you English, and you’ll have many opportunities. Many more than you would have here with us. Trust your Mama and Papa? You’ll see.”

  Salvatore’s lower lip quivered and he labored to speak. “You don’t love me anymore? What did I do? I’m sorry, Mama! I’ll be good! I promise.”

  Mama gasped loudly. “Oh no, my love! Of course, we love you, with all of our hearts. We’ll always love you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Then why are you sending me away? Why do you want me to go?”

  One tear, then another, gently fell from Mama’s eyes and ran down her cheeks. “We don’t want you to go. We never want you to leave us. We want you to stay here and live with us forever.”

  “Then why do I have to go?”

  “It’s that father of yours!” Mama said disgustedly. “He’s making us send you to America to live with him.”

  “Please, don’t make me go. I want to stay here with you and Papa,” the boy pleaded as he wiped his tears.

  “Please understand, my prince. We have no choice.” Mama lovingly stroked his hair.

  With the agility of a cat, the boy leaped out of the chair and raced out of the room screaming, “You can’t make me go!”

  Collapsing into a chair next to her husband, Mama removed a handkerchief from under her sleeve. After wiping her tears, Mama gently blew her nose. “How can he go to America, Papa? He’s only nine-years-old. He doesn’t even speak English. His father, that no good bum, he’s with the Black Hand. All he cares about is chasing women and gambling. He doesn’t care about the boy. Now, after all this time, he wants to be a father. He’s only doing this to spite us.”

  “I knew the day that snake slithered into our lives to pick up our precious Marie for their first date that he was no good. He didn’t bring her any flowers or candy. He just wanted to go. No talking, no sitting, nothing. I should have ended it then! The night she came home and told us that they wanted to get married, I should have sent her away to live with my brother in Piazza. That rotten bum didn’t even have enough respect to come to me and ask for my permission to marry my only daughter. I let Marie marry him against my better judgment because I wanted her to be happy. And this is what I get for trying to be an understanding father.”

  “We could never have prevented Marie from marrying him.” Mama gazed adoringly into her husband’s eyes. “She was deeply in love and nothing was going to keep her from being with him. I remember her wedding day like it was yesterday, Papa. Marie was so beautiful. She couldn’t have stopped smiling even if she wanted to. Don’t blame yourself, Papa. If Marie had never married, we wouldn’t have Salvatore.”

  “I know, Mama. But after Marie died, I didn’t think I could go on. I didn’t want to live. No father should outlive his only child. But having Salvatore here was...was like a part of Marie lived on in him. And now that bastard wants to take him, too.” Bursting into tears, Cogassi placed his hands over his face.

  “Please don’t cry, Papa.” Rising to her feet, Mama gently pulled her husband’s hands away from his face. “We must try to think of some way to keep Salvatore here.”

  “We have done all we can, Mama. The rest is in God’s hands. If we do not send Salvatore to America, Scalise said he will come here himself and get him. You read the letter. He said if he has to come here he will make us pay dearly for his inconvenience. I believe him!”

  “Why did you take the letter, Papa? You should have refused it. Sent it back to wherever it came from.”

  “That sneaky bastard sent it certified mail, in an envelope from a lawyer’s office in New York. If I had thought it was from him, I never would have signed for it.”

  “Maybe we can just ignore the letter, Papa. Pretend we never got it. What could he do to us that would be worse than taking our only grandson, our little prince?”

  “We have no choice, Mama! Scalise’s a killer and a thief. How can we stand up to him? Even if we try to hide Salvatore, that animal still has many friends here. Only God knows what they would do to us for refusing to honor Scalise’s request. Even our own friends would turn their backs on us out of fear. He probably has people watching us right now.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening, Papa. How is Salvatore going to make such a journey alone? He’s just a little boy.”

  “Many of our people have traveled to America alone.” Cogassi removed a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his eyes. “Some of them much younger then Salvatore, but I’ll see to it that someone responsible on the boat will watch after our g
randson for us. If I can’t find anyone that I trust, then I’ll demand that the captain himself look after him. And I won’t take no for an answer! That is the best I can do, Mama.”

  “I know, Papa. I always knew the day would come when Salvatore would leave us. I just never believed it would be so soon. We were lucky to have him as long as we did. Marie did a wonderful job raising him.”

  As he stared out the window into the distance, tears welled up in Cogassi’s eyes. Mama held the Rosary around her neck in one hand and crossed herself with the other.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was a warm spring day and the Palermo harbor teemed with activity as seafaring vessels navigated the waterways and channels of the busy port, churning up the gorgeous blue-green Mediterranean Sea. Tan, sweaty, well-built fishermen attentively checked to ensure that their rigging was secure before unloading their bountiful catches. Merchants and old women haggled with the fish-mongers for the best prices. Cargo transports were loaded by young stevedores eager to finish their day’s work. Large shipments of the valuable translucent oil from pressed olives, along with barrels of the region’s red and white foot-stomped fermented grapes, were readied for transport. Travelers hurried to their assigned departure locations while others searched for arriving family and friends. The sun was bright in the late afternoon sky, and its rays danced on the surface of the water.

  Carrying her grandson’s small suitcase in one hand, Mama held Salvatore’s hand firmly in her other for fear he would bolt. As they made their way to their designated dock, the boy purposely dragged his feet in hopes that the passenger ship would sail without him. Mama almost had to pull him along. “Salvatore, come along, dear. We don’t want to be late. Did you have a good time yesterday at your going away party?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “Did you like all the new clothes we bought you? And the presents your friends gave you?”

  “Yes, Mama.” Hesitating briefly, Salvatore cried out, “I don’t want to go to America. I’m afraid.”

  “Salvatore, you have nothing to be afraid of,” Cogassi stated confidently, as he yet again checked the same pocket to ensure he had his grandson’s paperwork, passport, and his ticket for passage. “In fact, we are blessed that Signore Zeoli and his family will be traveling on the same boat as you. His trip to America completely slipped my mind with all the excitement from the letter. We’re very fortunate that the Zeoli’s are visiting relatives in New York and have consented to watch over you. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “You’ve known Signore Zeoli and his family since you were a baby. You like him?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “You trust your Papa to make sure that you’ll be looked after? Don’t you?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “Good! Then there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ve known Signore Zeoli my entire life and as far as I’m concerned, you couldn’t be in better hands.” Cogassi gently cupped his grandson’s chin in his sizable hand. “Salvatore, make sure you listen carefully to what Signore Zeoli has to say to you. I’ve had to entrust my good friend with concerns that I wanted to instruct you on myself. Things I didn’t have a chance to properly teach you because of lack of time. Understand?”

  Salvatore nodded slowly. “I had a bad dream last night. If I go to America something bad will happen to me. I’ll die. I know it!”

  Mama stopped abruptly. “Do not say such things! Nothing bad is going to happen to you, my love. You will like living in America. It’s a glorious place. You’ll make new friends and see great things. Oh, I almost forgot! I have one more gift for you, my prince. We wanted to give it to you right before you got on the boat.”

  Reaching into her coat pocket, Mama pulled out a small box and carefully opened it. “Papa and I got you this beautiful crucifix.” Mama removed the solid gold rope necklace from the box and easily slid the heavy chain over her grandson’s head.

  “Mama, it’s much too big for me,” Salvatore noted looking down at the chain.

  Mama smiled. “We know. We bought it like that so you would be able to wear it now and when you’re all grown up. Father Gagliano blessed it himself. He said as long as you wore it, the Heavenly Father would protect you and ease your fears. Promise me you’ll never take it off.”

  “I promise.”

  “Do you like it?” Mama asked softly.

  “I love it. Thank you.” Salvatore looked up at his grandfather. “Thank you, Papa.”

  Cogassi smiled warmly. “You’re welcome.”

  “Don’t forget your promise, Salvatore.”

  “I won’t, Mama.”

  “And promise me you’ll never forget your mother or...or your Mama and Papa.”

  “I’ll never forget my mother, or you and Papa. I swear.”

  “I know you won’t.” Mama gently kissed her grandson’s cheek.

  “Please don’t make me go, Mama. What if I get sick? Who will take care of me?”

  “Salvatore, that is enough,” Cogassi scolded, fighting back his own tears. “Please do not make this any harder on us than it is. This is the most difficult thing we have ever had to do. We wired your father and told him you were coming. Now stop crying and be a man.”

  “I don’t want to be a man. I want to stay here with you and Mama.”

  “You’re already a man, my love.” Mama hugged her grandson. “You’re brave, kind, caring, honest, and respectful to others. These are all the qualities a man should have. And you have them all. Don’t ever change, my little prince.”

  “I won’t,” Salvatore swore, hugging back as if never wanting to let go.

  Glancing up through the crowd, Cogassi recognized his old friend standing exactly where they had agreed to meet. “There’s Signore Zeoli. Come along now, Mama.”

  “Thank you again for your kindness, old friend.” Cogassi greeted Zeoli with a firm handshake.

  “No need to thank me, Dominick. Salvatore is a good boy. I’m very glad to help,” Zeoli replied graciously.

  “Hello, Signore Zeoli,” Salvatore said, subdued.

  A retired businessman, Signore Zeoli was very well-respected in the community. He was up in years, with a slight build, graying hair, a handsome face, and strong arms. Zeoli greeted the boy with a friendly smile. “Hello, Salvatore. We don’t have much time before the ship departs, so I’ll let your grandparents say their ‘good-byes’ to you in private. I’ll be at the top of the gangplank waiting for you. I’ll be standing right there with the rest of my family.” Pointing out his family, Zeoli waved to them, and they waved back. “Okay?”

  “Yes, Signore Zeoli.”

  “Dominick, I’ll see you and Antoinette in four weeks.” Zeoli shook Cogassi’s hand once more.

  “Thank you, again.” Cogassi smiled.

  Throwing her arms around Zeoli, Mama gave him a big hug. “Tell Helen I said ‘Hello,’ and wish everyone well. Have a good trip, Vincenzo.”

  “Thank you, Antoinette. We will.” Zeoli made his way up onto the ship and joined his family at the railing.

  The boat sounded its horn with three quick blasts, signaling all passengers to board. “You must get on the ship now, Salvatore.” Cogassi kissed his grandson’s cheek. “I love you with all my heart. You have brought me much joy, and you have given me a reason to live since your mother passed...” Cogassi burst into tears. He quickly turned his back so the boy couldn’t see him weep. Reaching into his pocket, Cogassi drew his handkerchief and wiped his eyes.

  “Here my love.” Mama tried to distract Salvatore by handing him his little suitcase. “Don’t forget I’ve packed the picture of all of us together in front of the church.” Suddenly, Mama’s voice grew urgent. “Listen to me carefully, Salvatore. Treasure it! Keep the photo near you at all times. That way we will always be with you and can watch over you. I promise you that no harm will ever come to you as long as your mother and your Mama and Papa are with you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mam
a.”

  “Remember, we love you more than anything else in the world.” Squeezing Salvatore again, Mama kissed his cheek, and then hesitantly nudged him toward the gangplank. “Have a good trip, my Prince. Be a good boy. Mind the Zeoli’s. And don’t forget to write us as soon as you get to America.”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  Feeling as if his feet were in quicksand, Salvatore slogged his way up the gangplank. As he made his way up onto the ship, he was nearly trampled by the other passenger’s exuberance as they joyfully hurried past him. Finally, making it to the top, Salvatore hesitantly stepped onto the deck. Shuffling several more feet, he ultimately settled next to Zeoli.

  Showing great empathy for the little boy whose eyes now overflowed with tears, Zeoli implored compassionately, “Do not be sad, Salvatore. I’ve been to America many times. You will come to love it. I’m sure you can come back and visit as often as you like. Be a good boy and wave ‘good-bye’ to your grandparents.”

  Salvatore managed a wave. The ship sounded its horn for the final time and the gangplank was drawn up. As the last link to his home was removed, Salvatore’s heart began to race until it pounded in his chest. The stark reality of leaving the only home he had ever known transformed his melancholy to terror. Feeling as if his world were crumbling around him, the boy tossed his suitcase onto the deck and lunged for the railing. With the dexterity of a spider monkey, Salvatore climbed the iron rail screaming at the top of his lungs, “I don’t want to leave! I want to stay here with you! Mama! Papa!”

  Zeoli reacted quickly, latching onto Salvatore’s midsection by wrapping his arms around him just before he could get over the rail. Though using all of his strength, Zeoli found it difficult to stop him from jumping into the water.

  As the ship began to drift away from the dock, Salvatore’s cries grew louder, “I don’t want to go! Mama! Papa! Please! I’ll be good! I promise!” His frantic pleas were muffled by the heartfelt cries and joyous shouts of good-byes being exchanged between the passengers and their families.