Elizabeth Street - Laurie Fabiano [30]
Concetta had organized this unprecedented gathering because she reasoned that if these three souls could agree on how to help Giovanna it would be the right path, and the trio consented to the meeting because the one thing they shared was a love for Giovanna. The spectacle of seeing these icons together drew a crowd, but the crowd kept its distance out of respect and fear. The mood in the chiazza was never so self-conscious.
A cat played with the rosary hanging from Father Clemente’s vestment, and everyone, including the priest, chose to ignore it. With each swing of the cat’s paw, the anticipation in the chiazza rose. When the father’s shiny black shoe finally sent the cat flying, the animal’s screech broke the tension, and people, even those in the tribunal, started to relax. Concetta called for a child to get a basin of warm salted water for Signora Scalici’s visibly swollen feet, and they resumed their discussion with less formality.
It was fairly easy for all of them to agree that Nunzio’s death had caused Giovanna’s state, but they were in spirited dispute about why his death had taken her speech.
Signora Scalici was frustrated with Zia Antoinette and Father Clemente’s complex conclusions. “It’s simple! Her heart is broken!”
“In Scilla hearts are broken every day! No, it is because of something Nunzio told her when he died,” spat back Zia Antoinette.
“Stre—,” Father Clemente stopped himself from calling Zia Antoinette a witch and offered his explanation. “No. Giovanna is worried that Nunzio is not in heaven.” When even Concetta looked at him puzzled, he continued. “Nunzio didn’t share Giovanna’s devotion, and she fears that she will not be reunited with him in God’s kingdom.”
“If that’s the reason, can’t you say a prayer and get him in there? He’s your padrone.” Signora Scalici was not usually so irreverent, but her feet were killing her.
Sensing Father Clemente’s disgust, Concetta jumped in. “Does it matter the reason?”
“She should say prayers at his grave,” said Father Clemente, dusting off his vestments.
“Giovanna must see the place of Nunzio’s last breath,” proclaimed Zia Antoinette.
Signora Scalici took a foot out of the bath and rubbed it. “She needs a change of scenery.”
So they agreed without agreeing, and all spoke the truth.
Maria Perrino, with her once breech child at her side, broke from the distant circle of onlookers and walked forward. She put coins on the table in front of Concetta. “For the passage of Signora Levatrice.”
Slowly other villagers followed until there was a pile of coins on the table. When the last person had added to the ante, Concetta made the sign of the cross.
Zia Antoinette put her weight on her cane and rose from the chair. “She should go after Christmas and before the new year.”
When there was no dissent, Concetta nodded and thanked her counselors, kissing their cheeks. The crowd in the chiazza slowly dispersed until only Concetta remained. Concetta was not surprised to see Domenico emerge from behind the bougainvillea bush where he had been listening. He had told her that he could not bear to hear the three old windbags talk about Giovanna’s fate, but Concetta knew it was because he was afraid that they would come to the conclusion that they both dreaded and suspected. Domenico took Concetta’s arm and escorted her home. It was