Bella Fortuna

by Rosanna Chiofalo

  “I’m going to gently lift your head up and place my arm underneath it. We’ll take this very slowly. If anything hurts too much, just tell me, okay?”

  I nodded.

  Michael gingerly placed his right arm underneath the base of my skull and propped my head slightly up.

  “How does that feel?”

  “Fine.”

  “Okay, just let your head rest there. I’m going to slide my other arm under your back so I can try to lift you up. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Michael started to lift my pelvis, but I let out a shriek.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

  “That’s the side where they kept kicking me. Maybe if you try the other side.”

  “Okay. That’s a good idea. I should’ve thought to ask you which was the bad side.”

  He placed my head back down on the ground very carefully and went over to my other side. Again, he slid one arm beneath my head, and then very slowly nudged my side up, asking me constantly if I was in pain. I was, but I knew he had to get me off the ground, so I gritted my teeth as he got his arm fully underneath my body.

  “Michael, wait.”

  “Are you in too much pain?”

  “I just need a moment before you bring me inside.”

  My voice cracked, and I broke down sobbing.

  “Valentina. It’s going to be okay. Sshhh . . . sshhh.”

  Michael bent his head low, close to my face, and whispered into my ear: “I won’t let them hurt you again. I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again.”

  “I’m so embarrassed. My family. They don’t need this right now.”

  “I know. I know, sweetie. But there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Those pigs should be embarrassed.”

  “My father, Michael. It’s started.”

  I tried to talk through my choked sobs.

  “What’s started?”

  But as soon as Michael uttered his question, recognition dawned on his face.

  “Oh, Vee. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  He held me close to him.

  “Hey! What the hell is going on here?”

  Leave it to the Mayor of 35th Street to ruin my special moment with Michael.

  “What are you doing, for crying out loud?”

  Paulie was screaming at the top of his lungs. I’m sure from his vantage point it must’ve looked like Michael and I were getting it on right on the concrete, no matter how ridiculous that seemed. But Paulie would’ve believed it.

  Michael looked up.

  “Oh my God! Valentina, what happened to you?”

  All color drained from Paulie’s face.

  “I’ve got to get her inside.”

  “Who did this to her?”

  “We’ll talk about that later. Paulie, can you please ring her doorbell so I can quickly carry her in?”

  “Of course! Of course!”

  Paulie ran up the steps of my porch.

  “Oh, great. Everyone will know now that I had my ass kicked. Paulie’s going to be talking about this forever.”

  I managed to let out a little laugh, but I regretted it when the pain in my ribs returned.

  “I hate to tell you this, Vee, but unless you hide in your house for a month, everyone will know once they see your black eye.”

  “That’s true.” I smiled at Michael.

  “That’s my Valentina. Okay, let’s do this. On the count of three, I’m going to slowly get up, okay?”

  I nodded my head. “I’m ready.”

  “One . . . two . . . three.”

  Michael lifted me up. The movement ricocheted pain from my head down to my back. I sucked in my breath, hoping Michael hadn’t noticed. But it was useless.

  “I know, sweetie. It hurts.”

  Now off the ground, I noticed a crowd of people had gathered a few feet away and were staring. At least they had the courtesy to give us some space.

  “Michael, is she going to be all right?”

  Betsy Offenheimer’s voice crackled through the air. She sounded like she was on the verge of crying.

  “Yes, Betsy. She’ll be fine as soon as I get her inside.”

  “It was those two good-for-nothing girls who run around Astoria trying to make trouble for nice kids like Valentina. I heard them talking in my bakery about how they beat up poor Valentina. They were showing off. They tried to order Italian ices, but I kicked them out and told them never to show their faces in my bakery again. I then quickly ran over here to see if Valentina was okay.”

  I heard Betsy gasp as Antoniella told her what had happened to me.

  “Valentina, I will come over later and bring you your favorite biscotti,” Antoniella yelled out at me.

  I tried to lift my head higher to smile at her, but it felt like dead weight on top of Michael’s arms. Hearing how my neighbors were so concerned for me brought new tears to my eyes.

  My mother opened the door after what seemed like eons of Paulie pressing down on the bell.

  “Paulie, I’m sorry. This is not a good ti—Valentina! Dio mio! What happened to my daughter?” Ma started crying. “Who did this to her?”

  “I’m okay, Ma. It looks worse than it is.”

  I feebly tried to reassure her, though I knew from the look of my face that she wasn’t buying it. Seeing her crying killed me. She didn’t need this. Not now. I looked away, knowing I was about to lose all control. I had to be strong for her.

  “Signora DeLuca, I need to place her on a bed.”

  “Si, si. This way. Please, be quiet. I don’t want Nicola to hear. He can’t know what’s happened to his little mermaid.”

  I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, trying to keep a new round of tears from breaking through.

  Paulie followed. I was certain he would start recounting what he’d seen outside so loudly that my father would hear even in his semiconscious state. But to my surprise, Paulie just hung his head low as he followed Michael and my mother into my bedroom.

  “Should we take her to the emergency room?” Ma asked Michael.

  “Probably, but I don’t want to put her through that hassle just yet. Let’s call Dr. Serafino first and see what he can do.”

  “I’ll call him. You stay with Valentina, Signora DeLuca.”

  Paulie took charge as he walked over to the phone on my nightstand and dialed Dr. Serafino’s number.

  My mother left the room and returned with Rita and Connie by her side. They started crying when they saw me.

  “It’s okay. Stop crying,” I told them. Why did my mother even bring them in here? But I think Ma was too preoccupied at the moment. She had a basin of cold water and sat by my bedside as she gently washed the blood off my face. She gathered my hair and twisted it up into a bun and clipped it back. She then applied some ointment to the cuts on my face.

  “Connie, get me a glass of cold water. Fai presto!”

  Connie nodded her head and ran out. My poor little sisters. If it weren’t bad enough that they were seeing their father dying, now they had the sight of their older sister, who looked like she was at death’s door as well.

  Rita had come over to the other side of my bed and was holding my hand, crying silently. I squeezed her hand back in reassurance.

  We heard the doorbell ring.

  “I’ll get it. It must be Dr. Serafino.” Michael ran to the door.

  Seconds later, Dr. Serafino stepped into my bedroom.

  “Signora DeLuca.” He nodded his head toward my mother. “Paulie told me what happened. I’ll need to examine her in private. You can stay, signora, but everyone else should step out for a few minutes.”

  Rita seemed reluctant to let go of my hand. I tried reassuring her. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  Michael put his arm around Rita as he walked out with her. Paulie followed.

  After Dr. Serafino examined me, he told me I was lucky. Though I had cuts, I didn’t need any stitches, and there was no sign of a concussion even though Lauren had slammed my face
with such brutal force to the sidewalk.

  “Those girls aren’t as strong as they like to think they are.” Dr. Serafino winked at me. “You’ll be fine. I’m sorry this had to happen to you, Valentina, and at a time like this. What’s become of this world?” He shook his head. I heard him mutter, “Disgusting, disgusting.” He patted my hand. “Get some rest. I’ll come back tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”

  Ma escorted him out. They stopped outside of my bedroom, and I could hear them whispering. Then, I heard Dr. Serafino’s footsteps, making their way down the hall to my father’s room. My mother must’ve asked him to look in on my father, not that he could do anything for him at this point. We all knew that.

  Michael knocked on my door. “Can I come in?”

  “Hi.” I smiled when I saw him. He smiled back and sat down on my bed.

  “Does it still hurt a lot?”

  “A little, but Dr. Serafino gave me codeine and even a Valium. I’m feeling drowsy.”

  “I won’t stay too long.”

  “No, that’s okay. Stay as long as you like.”

  I looked into Michael’s eyes. He looked back for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly realizing what I’d said, I glanced nervously away. Michael held my hand.

  “I was so terrified when I saw you on the ground. I don’t think I’ve ever been that afraid before.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah, I was afraid, too, but mostly I just kept thinking about my family. I was more afraid one of them would come out and witness my getting beat up. My mother would’ve probably fainted on the spot.”

  “Oh, knowing your mother, I doubt that! She would’ve pounced on Cheryl and Lauren like a tiger protecting her cubs. She would’ve gotten a few of her own punches in there.”

  I laughed. “That’s true. My mother is very emotional, but she’s also the toughest woman I know.”

  “Yeah, I think Cheryl and Lauren had better pray they don’t see her on the street—or me, for that matter. I meant what I said to them.”

  “Would you hit a girl, Michael? I can’t see you doing that.”

  “No, I wouldn’t. But I swear I came so close to wanting to when I saw what they did to you. I just wanted to scare them when I threatened them. Besides, I know everyone in this neighborhood, and I could even get some of my female friends who can give a good ass kickin’ to take care of them.”

  “Wow! I didn’t know you had such power.” I smirked.

  “Ha! There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Valentina.”

  Again, he stared into my eyes. I could feel myself getting warm and my stomach fluttering. He was still holding my hand, but now he was swirling his index finger around the back of my hand.

  “Well, I should let you get some sleep.”

  “Can you do me a favor, Michael?”

  “Sure, anything for you, Valentina.”

  “Can you just wait until I fall asleep?”

  Something changed in Michael’s face when I said that. It was as if he were moved that I had made this request.

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Always so polite. You don’t have to keep thanking me.”

  “I know. But I want to.” I shot him a seductive smile. I was feeling more and more courageous around him.

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s also a lot about you that I don’t know, Valentina?”

  “Hmmm . . . I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to try and find out.”

  I closed my eyes. The drugs Dr. Serafino had given me were making it harder for me to win the battle to stay awake. As I drifted deeper into sleep, I felt someone kiss my forehead. Maybe my mother had come in. When I was a child, she always kissed my forehead after she’d tucked me in.

  My deep sleep had only lasted for an hour. Connie and Rita were shaking my shoulder.

  “Valentina, wake up! Wake up!”

  I woke up. My head was killing me. I’d never had such a pounding headache before. The pain in my ribs and back had returned, too. The drugs must’ve worn off.

  “It’s Baba, Vee. He’s going.” Rita was crying.

  “What?”

  “Hurry, Vee.” Connie was pulling my hand.

  I sat up a little too quickly. The room spun for a few seconds. I closed my eyes tightly, willing myself to feel better.

  “I need some help standing.”

  Rita and Connie placed their hands under my armpits as they lifted me with a strength I was surprised they had. We held on to each other as we slowly made our way to my parents’ room. I could hear moaning in the distance. It sounded like my mother and my aunt Mary. I’d never heard anyone cry like that before. Was I too late? Had I been sleeping while my father died?

  We got to the room.

  Ma and Aunt Mary were seated side by side on the bed. They were holding each other as they cried. My father was still lying on his right side. His eyes stared off to a place only he could see. He’d been in this same position when I had left three hours earlier to go to the supermarket. But now his body was trembling at a faster pace, and his eyes seemed more unfocused. Though his heart was still beating, I knew he’d already left us since the first signs of death made their presence known earlier that day.

  My sisters and I huddled closely together, crying silently, as we stared at Baba. I could feel their weight supporting my weakened body. They were trying to be strong for me. Guilt instantly washed over me. I was the oldest. I should’ve been the one consoling them, consoling my mother. With that thought, I shifted my weight so I wasn’t leaning so heavily on Connie and Rita. They looked up at me, worried I was going to faint on them. I wrapped my arms around them, and whispered, “I’m okay.” They seemed to collapse into me; relieved they could finally drop their heavy burden, they started sobbing loudly. I held them closely even though it hurt to have them pressed up against my sore ribs.

  My father suddenly let out one last gasp of breath. Startled, we all stopped crying. His eyes remained looking off to that place only he could see. And then his body stopped shuddering.

  “É morto . . . é morto,” Ma whispered. And then she held her arms out to my sisters and me. My sisters rushed into her arms, kneeling at her side. I was in too much pain to crouch down and was left standing alone. I just stared at my father as I silently cried. Aunt Mary came over to me and held me. As I stood there hugging my aunt, I couldn’t help glancing in my parents’ dresser mirror and noticing the scene that was staring back at me.

  A seagull flies into my line of vision, startling me out of my reverie and bringing me back to the present. It lands by my feet, pecking at broken pieces of a pizza crust. I inhale deeply. The breeze is picking up at the park, and the tide in the East River looks higher now, too. I begin making my way out of Astoria Park and head home.

  Though it has been fourteen years since Baba died, I still feel devastated whenever I think about that day. It still hurts that he’s no longer here with us. It still hurts that Tracy had conspired behind my back to have me beat up, knowing my father had just been given one month to live.

  On October 18, 1996, I’d gotten my ass kicked, my father had died, and it had been Tracy’s seventeenth birthday—a birthday I was sure she’d never forget. From that day forward, I became a believer in karma: What goes around comes around.

  But there had also been good karma present on that day. Michael and I had formed a deep bond that was the seed of our growing friendship and romance.

  Michael had postponed going back to Cornell for another week so that he could attend my father’s funeral. When he heard the news, he came to my house. I was lying in bed, still nursing my wounds.

  Neither of us said anything as he came over to me. He sat down at my bedside and pulled me into his arms. I broke down crying. He held me and stroked my hair for what felt like the longest time.

  “Just let it out. Let it all out,” he whispered.

  I’d been strong for my mother and sisters. Again,
I felt the weight of my being the oldest and wanting to be their tower of strength. It felt so good to finally have someone console me. When I eventually stopped crying, I looked up into Michael’s face. His eyes were red, as if he’d been fighting off tears.

  “Shouldn’t you be on your way back to school?”

  “I couldn’t go after I got the news. But I had decided to put off returning to school for a few days even before your father died. I wanted to make sure you were healing okay. I was going to check in on you.”

  “Thanks, Michael, but you didn’t have to do that. Weren’t your parents upset that you didn’t go back?”

  “No, no. They understood. They were horrified when they heard what happened to you. And now that your father has passed away . . . well, I think in a way they’re proud of me that I’m looking out for you and your family. They actually came here with me. They’re talking to your mother in the living room.”

  “I should get up and say hello to them.”

  “Valentina, wait. I want to talk to you.”

  His face was gravely serious.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s just—” He looked away.

  “You can tell me anything, Michael. I hope you know that. Whatever it is, I’d never betray your trust. You’ve done so much for me. If there’s something you need help with or just someone to listen, I’m here.”

  He smiled. Then my heart stopped when he picked up my hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it. “You’re always thinking of others. You’re so kind. I’ve never met anyone like you. It seems most girls nowadays just care about themselves and getting what they want or playing some game or other. But not you, Vee. You’re not like that.”

  I blushed. “Well, it seems that being the way I’ve been doesn’t keep the guys around. The few boyfriends I’ve had always seem to leave me for the girls who are more like what you’re describing.”

  “They’re idiots. What do they know?”

  Suddenly, I thought about when I saw him kissing Tracy on the night of the sophomore dance. Maybe Aldo had been right that Michael was just thinking with his base urges but didn’t want a girl like Tracy for a girlfriend.