Elizabeth Street Part 33

Standing at the designated corner, Giovanna held the envelope to her chest. It held $289.

Rocco and the children insisted on going with Giovanna, but she was able to persuade them to remain at a safe distance and not be seen. They stood on the east side of Fifth Avenue near Thirteenth Street.

"I think it's coming," said Mary, jumping out into the street.

"Don't do that again, Mary!" shouted her father. "You stay in the crowd!"

Clement tried to catch sight of his stepmother on the southwest corner of Fourteenth Street. "She's still there, Papa," he reported.

The first of the electric floats pa.s.sed. They held elaborate scenes of heroes and fantastic creatures. Marchers holding colored flames walked at the edge of the floats.

"I don't get this," commented Clement with one eye on a float and the other on his stepmother.

"A girl at work said it was a German parade about myths and legends," offered Frances.

Sure enough, a band marched by, playing what Rocco called "oompah" music. It was followed by another float covered in thousands of colored lights that illuminated the smoke from the torches. The clouds of colored smoke made it nearly impossible to see Giovanna. Clement strained to see through the haze. He was not only checking on his stepmother, but he was there with strict instructions from Domenico to get a description of the person who took the envelope. Lorenzo had forbidden Domenico to go with them after Rocco had come by earlier in the day to ask for more money. It broke Lorenzo's heart that he had already given all the money he could spare and some he could not.

A break in the floats cleared the air, and clowns came stumbling down the street. One clown clutched a "North Pole" that was captioned I GOT IT I GOT IT. Another clown played a stringless violin, while yet another rode a bicycle with no tires. They were flanked by a line of clowns on either side who jostled the crowd, tilting hats and honking noses. The line of clowns blocked Rocco's view of Giovanna, and soon the clowns were in front of them, one tugging at Clement's suspender. Ripples of laughter flowed through the crowd as various people were picked on. When the clowns pa.s.sed, Rocco looked to Giovanna. It was Clement who noticed first.

"She's not there. Zia's gone."

A policeman stopped them from crossing the street. They ran behind the crowd on the sidewalk heading south, a.s.suming Giovanna had followed the flow of the parade. At Tenth Street, Clement spotted her running through the crowd on the opposite side of the street, as they were doing. At every block, they attempted to cross the street, but each time a policeman caught them and sent them back.

The parade ended at Was.h.i.+ngton Square Park, and it was here that they were finally able to catch up with Giovanna.

"It was one of the clowns. He took the envelope," Giovanna sputtered breathlessly.

"Zia, come, we must find a place to sit," said Frances, alarmed at her stepmother's breathing.

Rocco and Clement escorted Giovanna to a bench. They were silent; the only sound was Giovanna's breath slowly returning to normal.

"Every clown was dressed the same. What made you think you would find him running like that! Besides, you risk her life if you follow them!" Rocco was both angry and worried.

"It wasn't Leo. The clown was too short. But he could have led us to her..."

They sat in silence for a long time. "Let's go home," Rocco said, lifting Giovanna to her feet.

THIRTY-SEVEN.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1909.

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Giovanna knew they wouldn't be satisfied with what she had given them, but even though she expected the threat, it didn't make it any less terrifying. The only positive sign was that they were once again given two weeks to get the money, but that meant two more weeks that Angelina was in their filthy hands.

Her heart was palpitating, and it set the baby to kicking. Everything was outside of her control, even the movements within her own body. Panic rose in her chest, and she bolted from her chair with nowhere to go. The walls of the tenement were closing in on her, and she had an inexplicable urge to get to the roof. She needed air; she needed the freedom her daughter and unborn baby didn't have.

Opening the door to the hallway, she nearly knocked over Lucrezia.

"Giovanna! Where have you been? I came to check on you."

Giovanna stared into Lucrezia's face. Every muscle in her body wanted to relax, weeping into her arms. She wanted Lucrezia to hold her head, stroke it, and tell her what to do.

"Giovanna? Is something the matter?"

Giovanna froze.

"Let's go inside your apartment. Come on, dear."

The movement back inside and loss of eye contact with Lucrezia helped Giovanna to compose herself.

"I'm fine, Lucrezia. Just a little dizzy."

"Lie down. I wonder if it's your sugar." Lucrezia went to her bag and withdrew all sorts of instruments and elixirs. Listening to Giovanna's heart, she looked around and asked, "Where's Angelina?"

Caught off guard, Giovanna answered, "I sent her to her grandparents." Seeing Lucrezia's perplexed face, she added, "I've been exhausted with this pregnancy."

"But, Giovanna, so soon after the earthquake? There's disease."

"No, no. It's nearly a year. They say it's fine."

Giovanna could tell that Lucrezia was skeptical either of the soundness of her decision or of her truthfulness.

"Your blood pressure is way up. Giovanna, why didn't you call me? You're not well."

"It's just a bad day, Lucrezia. Really. I overdid it watching these American festivities."

"Lie back down."

Giovanna obeyed, and Lucrezia propped pillows beneath her head. She then went to remove Giovanna's shoes.

"No..." protested Giovanna, but it was too late. Lucrezia had seen her raw feet.

"Did you march in the parades? What on earth have you been doing? Giovanna, really, you know better! I don't understand this at all."

"It's nothing. Stop fussing."

"I'm surprised you're so interested in all this nonsense."

Giovanna remained silent.

"My husband says this Hudson-Fulton celebration is a ploy to get all the new immigrants interested in voting before the elections."

"I doubt it. It would have been cheaper to pay everyone double what they normally do for voting. They even dressed the horses."

Lucrezia laughed, relieved at a sign of her friend's humor. "I didn't see it, but I read in the paper that during the naval parade, Hudson's boat, the Half Moon Half Moon, rammed into Fulton's Clermont Clermont."

"On purpose?"

"They say it was an accident, but if you ask me, it was the ghosts of these two men's egos at work. And they say women are jealous!"

Giovanna laughed a real laugh, and Lucrezia continued, encouraged.

"And did you hear what happened in Brooklyn?"

"No," answered Giovanna, not at all surprised that Lucrezia had all this information.

"They lost thirty-five of the fifty-four floats that were supposed to be in the parade."

"That's not possible!"

"It's like losing the elephants at the circus! You can get up if you want. Your heart rate is normal now."

Giovanna swung her legs over the bed. "Lucrezia, I'm fine, really."

"Giovanna, I would hope after all our time together that if you had anything to tell me you would feel free to do so."

"S, s..." Giovanna couldn't look Lucrezia in the face. "I'll walk out with you. I was on my way to get things for dinner."

When they parted, Giovanna felt far worse than she had before. Her anxiety had lessened, but it was replaced with a heavy, broken heart.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 7, 1909.

Hands over her eyes, Angelina tried to imagine the sights and sounds from the Ferris wheel. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you..." The room was pitch dark and her lids were shut tight and covered, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't pretend. Something crawled up her skin. Trembling and shaking, she tried again. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you..."

SAt.u.r.dAY, OCTOBER 9, 1909.

"I heard something!" Teresa entered the apartment nearly breathless and handed over a baby each to Mary and Frances.

Giovanna jumped up and closed the door. "Sit, Teresa."

"Don't get excited..."

"Just tell," beseeched Giovanna.

"I overheard these drunken men talking about all the new greenhorns Il Lupo had working for him. They said that they were the ones who bombed the Bank Pati where the teller was killed."

"And?" asked Rocco.

"That's it. That's what I heard," replied Teresa.

"Are you crazy? You get us all excited, and you tell us nothing!" Rocco shouted.

"Rocco! Stop! Do you think we will just happen to hear where she is? Teresa was right to come. This could be helpful," said Giovanna.

SAt.u.r.dAY, OCTOBER 16, 1909.

An early light snow was falling, the first of the season. Giovanna was nearly oblivious to it, sitting at the window looking for signs or signals. Everyone was at work, including Mary, who had insisted on going with Frances.

It was two weeks to the day and she had not received instructions. No crude drawings and misspelled words. No sign of Leo or the phony cripple. Every few days she dropped into Inzerillo's cafe to beg him to persuade the kidnappers not to harm Angelina and to let him know they were working hard to get the money. She a.s.sumed that once again word would come via Rocco because it was fairly easy to drop a piece of paper unseen into his cart, and so she hoped and half expected to see Rocco hurrying toward their building.

Instead, a moment later, her heart leapt when she saw Lieutenant Petrosino. Clutching her chest, she didn't move her eyes off him and quickly debated whether to tell her old friend. For nearly ten seconds she was certain Petrosino was alive and his death had been staged. But when he came closer she could see that all this man and Petrosino shared was their stature and a derby. His face held none of the determination of the little lieutenant.

When Giovanna calmed down, she poured herself a gla.s.s of wine and went back to her position at the window. She remembered the first time she saw Petrosino in Saulino's restaurant. He looked so depressed, and the lawyer DeCegli said it was because a little boy who had been kidnapped was found dead.

Maybe her dead friend was trying to tell her something, because the memory ignited a spark, and seconds later she was off her chair, wrapping herself in a thick shawl, and out the door. The kidnappers were right. It was not enough to know who they were. She needed to know their secrets.

Giovanna went to the library, and the same librarian who had helped her and Domenico find articles about Nunzio's accident directed her to articles about kidnapping in the Italian language news papers. She left the library with a name and address in Brooklyn.

It was a dress shop. Giovanna hesitated before the door, and when she saw someone from inside looking at her suspiciously, she brushed the snow from her shawl and entered.

"Is Signora Palermo here?"

"Why? I can help you," answered a small, stooped woman standing behind the counter.

"I wanted to speak with the signora."