Elizabeth Street - Laurie Fabiano [86]
“Antonio, why does Saint Rocco point to his knee?” Angelina asked her cousin, who walked beside her.
“Shhh, Angelina.”
“Where did you get that cap?” she whispered, ignoring him.
“Your mother gave it to me. Now be quiet,” reprimanded Antonio.
“Okay, but how much farther?”
“Soon we will be at the chiazza, and you will see the fireworks,” assured Antonio.
Angelina was half asleep on her mother’s shoulder when they finally reached the chiazza, but with the first explosion she was wide awake. Giovanna watched the reflection of the fireworks and the wonder in her daughter’s eyes. It was the first time during this trip to Scilla that she was creating a memory instead of evoking one.
“The boat’s coming in, Angelina. Let’s see if they caught the last of the swordfish,” said Domenico to his granddaughter.
It was difficult for Domenico to no longer be able to fish. He kept hoping that the pains in his arms and legs that kept him from sailing would go away, but when the second swordfish season without him at sea came and went, he realized that this was the curse of old age.
From the front door of the Costa home to where the boats docked was less than twenty feet. Angelina watched the boat that looked like a strange insect rowing back to shore.
“Nonno, why is the man up in the air?”
“To look for the swordfish. He calls to the others when he sees one. They are smart, these fish, and they feel you coming. You must sneak up on them. The man at the front, he throws the spear on the caller’s direction.”
The boat neared the dock, and the man on the pole waved. Angelina realized it wasn’t a man at all, but Antonio. The person holding the spear was Antonio’s father, Giuseppe, and his other two sons, Salvatore and Franco, were at the oars. Angelina jumped up and down and waved.
From the door to the house, Giovanna watched with a smile on her face, pleased that Angelina and Antonio genuinely liked each other.
Within thirty feet of the shore, Giuseppe called, answering Domenico’s unasked question. “Nothing, Domenico. We netted a few fluke, that’s all.”
Domenico helped them reel in the boat by winding the chain and pulling the boat onshore.
“What can you see up there?” Angelina asked Antonio.
“Everything. Dolphins, fish with bright stripes, the mermaids…”
“Mermaids! Take me to see the mermaids!” Angelina exclaimed.
“The mermaids won’t show themselves if they know you are looking.”
“Antonio! Stop filling her head with nonsense and help me with this net,” scolded Giuseppe.
“Antonio sees everything but the swordfish!” joked his older brother Salvatore.
In October, the issue as to whether, and when, Giovanna would return to New York hung in the air. Her parents wanted to ask, but they didn’t, far too content to have their daughter and granddaughter with them. It was Angelina who brought it up at the dinner table. “Mamma, when will we see Papa?”
Her question was greeted in silence. Eventually, Concetta spoke. “You know, Giovanna, with some work we could fit everyone here.”
“He would never come here. He belongs to America.”
The silence continued throughout dinner and the remainder of the evening. Giovanna knew she must decide. She had just received a letter from Rocco in Frances’s handwriting. The letter said that Mary missed her and wanted Giovanna to meet her new teacher. Giovanna knew this was Rocco’s way of asking her to come back.
Giovanna had not told her parents anything about the bombing of the store. She could sense that as much as they wanted her to stay in Scilla, deep down they believed she must return to New York. Had she told them, Giovanna knew they would have been worried and conflicted. She realized that with Nunzio gone, all that was left was duty. If she stayed in Scilla, she would still not have her love—but she also would