Alligator Bayou - Donna Jo Napoli [8]
“Like every Wednesday. Besides, it ain’t your business, no how.”
“You oughtn’t to walk alone. Four miles. That’s too long for a girl alone.”
Patricia smirks. “Y’all see just fine I ain’t alone.”
“Right, honey,” the boy says in a patronizing tone. “That’s why you ought to walk with a friend.”
Patricia shakes her head in disgust. “Calogero, meet my brother, Charles. He ain’t always rude. Charles, meet my friend Calogero.”
I hold out my hand to shake.
Charles looks at it in surprise. Then he shakes.
I shake hands with all three boys.
And no one’s speaking.
“You best hurry, Tricia,” says Charles at last. “Reckon we’ll walk your friend back where he came from.”
Patricia frowns. “You be friendly, Charles. All of you boys, y’all be friendly.” She glances at me, then runs past the boys.
They step forward so that they’re standing one on either side of me and one directly in front. I’m surrounded. Two of them are taller than me.
Charles looks me up and down. “You shake hands a lot, like some big man.”
I wasn’t trying to be a big man. I keep my mouth shut.
“Yeah, bet you don’t weigh more than a hundred pounds with your britches off and your feet washed,” says another one of the boys, “yet you proud as a dog with two tails.”
They all laugh.
“That shaking hands—that’s a dago thing,” that boy says. “I seen it before.”
Charles puts a fist on a hip. “That’s a dago thing?”
I shrug.
“You like my sister?”
“Yes.”
“What you like about her?”
I feel a trap, but I don’t know how to get around it. “Everything.”
The boy who’s been silent all along steps forward and digs a toe into the dirt. “Tricia pretty as a speckled pup. I like everything about her, too.”
Am I supposed to fight? I cross my arms at the chest like Frank Raymond always does. I know how to fight. But three against one …
“That’s Rock,” says Charles, jerking his chin toward the boy.
I nod at Rock.
“Strange name, huh?” says Charles. “He got it ’cause he stubborn. His mother call his head a rock.”
“I have a brother back in Sicily named Rocco.”
“Yeah?” This time it’s Rock who speaks up.
“He’s stubborn, too. And smart.” I don’t tell him Rocco is only four.
Rock gives a half smile.
I drop my arms and smile back.
“A little agreement over a name and ’stead of fighting, y’all suddenly conversating.” Charles makes a face. “You dumb as a sack full of hammers, Rock.”
Rock shrugs and looks at me. “I seen you working at the grocery.”
“My uncle owns it.”
“You must have too much work now and then, huh?”
I’ve never seen us too busy, but I nod. Cirone told me business gets wild by midsummer, when the fields are producing nonstop.
“Maybe you could throw a job our way. Just now and then, I mean.”
“I could ask.”
Charles shakes his head. “This is something, all right. We in business together now.” He laughs. “Well, how about this? Tricia going home to cook. You know what she put in the pot for supper?” His voice is a challenge.
I stare at him.
“’Gator.” Charles smiles. “Still like everything about her, Mr. Calo-whatever?”
I nod, keeping my eyes steady. The image of the alligator head above the door to the saloon comes into my mind. Ugly as a pox.
“You ever eat ’gator?”
I shake my head.
“I didn’t think so. I hear say you dagoes too dumb to eat ’gator.” Charles laughs and looks at the others. “We got to remedy that, don’t you think?”
“Sure do.” Rock nods. “And the best eating, well… that’s after catching. Right, Ben?” He looks at the third boy, who gives a nod. Rock puts his finger in the middle of my chest. “When the time right, we going hunting. ’Gator hunting.”
five
I’m sitting at the kitchen table waiting. Somehow, all the worry of this day has left me starving.
Francesco finally shows up.
I’d hug him, but he’s still got that shotgun in his hands. I keep my eyes on it.
“At last.” Carlo makes the sign of the cross. “Thank you, Sant’ Antonio.”
Sant’ Antonio is the saint you call upon to help you find lost things. I never prayed to him for a missing person, though.
Francesco rests the gun upright in the corner.
“Well?” says Carlo.