Elizabeth Street - Laurie Fabiano [28]
The rescue crew took advantage of the void left by the removal of Lagato’s broken body and wedged long sticks underneath, poking to pinpoint the location of the other men.
Several thousand people had gathered at the scene, including a number of reporters and a priest. To Carmine, the priest looked like a black crow waiting to pounce on a corpse, and he spit in his direction without interrupting the swing of his hammer on the chisel.
Work stopped briefly again when Constantino’s body was removed and taken, as Lagato’s had been, to the police station to be examined by the coroner. Finding Constantino made Carmine work faster, because he was now sure it was Nunzio beneath the slight elevation where they were working.
Near six o’clock, Carmine’s crew removed their fourth panel and found Nunzio. His legs were visible, and although they knew he was dead, Carmine made the men lift the final metal plate as gingerly as possible. He wanted to keep his friend’s body intact. With the last bloodstained metal plate removed, Nunzio’s body, every bone broken and arms and legs at unnatural angles, faced the sky.
PART THREE
SCILLA, ITALY, TO NEW YORK, NEW YORK 1902
SEVEN
Giovanna woke with a start, shivering. She pulled the quilt tight around her body but soon realized nothing would make her warm. She got out of bed and paced, eventually going outside to look at the sky as if it would tell her something. There were no signs in the stars or the breeze, only the terror that coursed through her body.
Six hours later, Concetta awoke to an eerie silence. She went looking for her daughter, and when she did not find her in her bed, she ran outside to where Giovanna still stood facing the sea, drenched in morning dew.
“Giovanna, get inside!” Concetta pulled the wet quilt from Giovanna’s body and tried to lead her indoors, but she would not move. Concetta’s pleas drew Domenico from his bed. He begged Giovanna to tell him what was wrong. With every unanswered plea and vacant stare, Domenico and Concetta became more convinced that death had visited, and Giovanna had lost Nunzio. They gave up trying to get her inside and instead forced her to sit in a chair facing the sea at the door to the house. Concetta spooned hot tea into Giovanna’s mouth and wrapped her in dry shawls while Domenico dressed to go to the telegraph office.
The telegraph operator sat behind a long oak desk. Dead flies flew again on flypaper that flapped in the breeze of a humming black metal fan. Domenico stared at the telegraph machine for a long time. It was as silent as Giovanna. The operator told Domenico to go home, commenting that Giovanna’s condition was probably from something she ate. Domenico knew his daughter’s silence was not caused by her diet, but he also knew that the news would come whether he watched the mysterious machine or not.
Domenico walked home and drew up a chair next to Giovanna. Word of Giovanna’s condition had traveled to Nunzio’s mother, Marianna, who arrived at the house distraught. She pleaded with Giovanna to speak to her. Giovanna could only answer with her eyes, but her aunt could read the loss. Concetta took a stunned Marianna inside and handed her a rosary. Together, on their knees, they began their prayers. They prayed to their patron, Saint Rocco, they prayed to Saint Anthony in case Nunzio was lost, and they prayed to the Madonna, because she was a woman and would understand.
Nunzio’s sister, Fortunata, got word as she was preparing to board the boat for Messina, where she made money as a wet nurse. She ran from the dock to her home to gather her family, and they arrived together. Seeing her mother and aunt praying sent Fortunata into wails. Her daughter took the baby from her breast, and her older sons left for the chiazza in search of information. Her second