Boitano is the Italian surname for "box-maker," a very simplistic meaning that implies a person of humble birth. It also happens to be a name from my mother's side of the family. I remember doing a family tree a long time ago in elementary school, but didn't have much appreciation of that topic until later on in college. As simple as this name sounds, it's actually pretty rare. Not many people have this surname these days. That is why I was more than proud to use this surname for Fidget's Italian relatives, which you are about to meet in this story. These Italian bats are Rupert Holloway's side of the family (his real name is actually Rudolfo Boitano). And Fidget, who struggles with connecting in a world where family is of great importance, takes a journey to Liverpool where his Italian family resides ... and he is forever changed ...

Chapter 1: Leavin' for Liverpool

The clock downstairs chimed five o'clock at night ... my wakin' time. But I didn't sleep good. I kept havin' dis dream; my parents were in it. I would see my mother's ghost standin' alone at da harbor. She looked out at da seas, da blue ribbon on her neck blew in da wind. How beautiful and sad she looked. Sometimes I caught sight of tears in her eyes of da blue moon. Whenever I ran out to touch her, she disappeared. Dhen I would see my father's ghost, flyin' above me. How proud and mature he looked as he flew, and how I mourned my loss of flight. I would call to him, but dhen he would fly further away ... and disappear. Dis dream wasn't da only t'ing dat depressed me. I would walk to da Henry Poole & Co. tailor shop at 15 Savile Row to start work. We recently got a lot of middle-class customers who were fathers. Dhey requested us to make suits best suited for their trips to visit dheir family, in-laws, and cousins. When my shift was over, I overheard little kids shout with excitement because dheir cousins would come soon to visit dem. Cousins, in-laws, grandparents ... What da hell are dhose!? If only I could relate ... I pretended not to let it bother me, but da same kids saw me walkin' home and started askin' me if I had any cousins. I shook my head and continued to walk away, but dhose kids wouldn't stop pesterin' about it. How could someone NOT have any cousins dhey would ask? Maybe bat cousins didn't exist, dhey would say. "Of coursebats have cousins," I replied. "Why wouldn't dhey?"

"Well then where are they?"

As I continued to walk home, dhose kids would follow me. I was some freak just because I didn't have any cousins. I got so agitated dat I ran as fast as I could to lose dem. Luckily I had Albert and Anna waitin' for me. Albert took one good look at my face and asked what I was worried about. I pointed to da kids who were followin' me and told him what dhey were askin' me. He laughed and patted my shoulder. "Don't let those children scare you," he told me. "They mean no harm. They're only curious."

Somehow, dat made me feel worse. Dhey were curious, alright. A little too curious! What if dhey never leave me alone!? And da followin' work nights at Henry Poole & Co., some customers even asked me when I would visit my grandparents and in-laws. I told dem I didn't have any to visit. Dhey didn't believe me at first, but I insisted dat I was tellin' da truth. When dhey realized dis, dheir response was "Oh, how sad." Unfortunately, dis news seemed to have spread t'roughout mousedom society. "How could someone not have relatives!?" I heard ladies shout. "It's so ... unnatural." Da gossip was so overwhelmin', and I couldn't help but notice hundreds of eyes starin' at me as if I were a walkin' doll. I began shakin' so badly dat I had to run away for dear life until I reached da Collins' house. Anna saw da state I was in and demanded dat I tell her what was goin' on. I was able to tell her some, but I could only do it between breaths. I was practically crawlin' outta my skin! She suggested I should rest, but I insisted on standing up. I didn't want to be babied! I didn't enjoy it when my whole body shook either, but I found dat takin' deep breaths helped me to calm down. Anna once requested a doctor's visit to da house in regards to my anxiety attacks. He claimed dat I had suffered from neurosis brought on by da hardships and suppression I endured durin' my childhood and into adulthood. I would be like dis for da rest of my life, he told me, and dhere was no cure for it. Dr. Hemingway, Niecy's doctor, gave me a more enlightenin' solution. Although I couldn't cure it, I could fight it. Whenever dhose urges came, I was to t'ink of dhem as tidal waves and myself as a rock. It actually helped! I could see why Niecy confided in his services.

But my neurosis was da least of my worries now. All I could t'ink about was da fact dat I had no cousins, grandparents, or any living blood relatives of my own ... and I hated it! And I was about to start another evening again, facin' dat fact repeatedly and not bein' able to do a damn t'ing about it!

"You do realize you have us," I heard Anna's voice. She had opened da door a crack as I lept from my bed (dheir ceiling wasn't built for a bat to hang upside down). She knew what was botherin' me and it made her very concerned. "And you have Father Richards as your mentor and Deniece as your companion. You shouldn't let those other mice get under your skin."

"I know!" I replied, a little more terse dhan I intended. "I can't help it dhough. It's just dat I ..." I lost my train of thought, so my voice trailed off.

"You wish you had living relatives," Anna completed my sentence for me.

I wasn't fond of someone talkin' for me, but her reply was true so I nodded. "Even if dhose mice didn't say anythin' ... It's like somethin's missin'."

"Sounds to me like guilt, Finnius," said Anna. "And over something you have no control of."

Although she was right about my guilt, it still didn't provide da answer to dat missin' part. "I just have to know, Mum. I have to know if I have any living relatives at all. If I don't ... I'll go mad."

Anna lowered her head sadly. I could tell she was tryin' hard to find da right words to tell me. She suffered hardship during her youth too, for bein' barren. She understood what it felt like to have da only t'ing she ever wanted to be taken away by fate's cruelty. And like me, she was an only child. Her relatives were dead. Albert told me all about it, since Anna was painfully shy when it came to subjects that made her upset.

"Tonight is your studies with Father Richards," Anna replied, breakin' da silence. "Maybe he could help you with your situation."

My ears perked up at her suggestion. What a good idea! Tonight's history lesson was supposed to be Cultural Roots (Father Richards gave names for his lessons). It probably had somethin' to do with family. I was suddenly overwhelmed with a new kind of feelin' dat seemed to fill da missin' part inside of me. I rushed to da bathroom with dis new energy, changed clothes, and ran out da door (but not before givin' Anna a hug and kiss). Father Richards was just outside, waitin' for me. As we both hopped on board da hansom to his house on Piccadilly, I told da priest about my situation.

"You've overcome many obstacles since your release from Pentonville," said Father Richards. "It has turned you into a more mature man. But you still have much more to overcome, especially when coping with loss."

Father Richards always liked to speak in lectures, even when he wasn't givin' a lesson. Sometimes I found it very annoyin'! But still it beat da hell outta da ways of piracy. His lectures were one of da only t'ings left in dis world dat kept me rooted to da ground. So I began to ask da question: "Is dhere a way I can find my relatives?"

Da mouse priest gave me surprised look. Dat meant either one of two t'ings: one, he knew da answer but didn't expect me to ask so soon, or two, I was askin' for somethin' so impossible even he wouldn't know da answer. "Do you know what you're asking, Fidget?"

"I'm askin' if dhere's a way I can find my relatives?" I repeated. "I wanna know if I have any blood relatives left."

Father Richards heaved a sigh. Why did I have da feelin' dat I wasn't gonna like da answer? "There is a way," he began, "but it's not that easy."

"So I'll work for it," I replied. "What have I got to lose?"

"It's not a guarantee that your blood relatives are still alive," said Father Richards. "If you get your hopes up too high, you might be disappointed if you find out you have no relatives."

"Not nearly as disappointed if I don't try." I was practically at da point of beggin'. "Please Father Richards? Please?"

Dhere was no changin' my mind, and Father Richards knew it. Da priest fussed with his glasses, which was what he did when he came up with an idea. "We will not have the lesson at the house tonight."

Dat last response caught me off-guard. "What!?"

"We're not going to the house tonight. We're going to pay a little visit with Constable Smith."

I gulped. Constable Smith!? Dat guy would not take his eyes off me since I came out of Pentonville, especially when he spotted me on my way to Niecy's house! I was never too friendly with da police anyway, but somethin' about Constable Smith made me extra nervous. He didn't trust me ... and I suppose for good reason. But why would Father Richards take me to see him!?

Da hansom didn't stop at Piccadilly. I had a sneaky feelin' Father Richards knew it wouldn't, even before I told him about my situation. Instead, it stopped right in front of da police station ... my least favorite place. Father Richards hopped off da hansom and gestured for me to do da same. As we both walked up da stairs, I began to sweat. A police mouse came t'rough double doors ... and spotted me first before Father Richards.

"We're here to see Constable Smith," Father Richards requested.

"'E isn't in any trouble again, is 'e?"

I slapped my forehead embarrassingly. Obviously, da police mouse was talkin' about me. I wouldn't have been surprised if he was actually hopin' I would slip up so he would have a reason to nail me. Did I always have to be reminded of my past!?

"Not at all, sir," said Father Richards. "We just need to ask him a few questions."

Da police mouse gestured his hand to da doors, a sign dat Constable Smith was still in his office. Father Richards and I continued our way to da doors, dat police mouse still wouldn't take his eyes off me. Luckily he didn't follow us inside. I spotted Constable Smith just comin' outta his office; I tugged Father Richards's sleeve for his attention. As I had expected, Constable Smith looked less dhan pleased to see me. I gave Father Richards an uncomfortable look, pleadin' in my mind dat he would not make me talk to da Constable. Da priest gave me a wide-eyed stare and swept his hand as his way of tellin' me to move. Father Richards would not let me off dat easy. I slowly crept up to da Constable himself, who looked down at me with piercin' wide eyes. I had to t'ink fast for words since Constable Smith didn't like to be kept waitin'. "I ... wanna find my relatives."

"What?"

I started to sweat again. Did I say da right words? I repeated my sentence to him. "I wanna find my relatives."

"Is this a jest?" asked da constable.

I was startin' to get agitated. Luckily Father Richards spoke on my behalf. "Fidget wants to know if he has any living blood relatives. Do you have any records for anyone by the surname of Holloway?"

Constable Smith said nuthin', but he gestured us to come inside his office. I was awestruck by da shelves full of folders and papers. I imagined dhere were more inside dhose filin' drawers. Constable Smith gestured with his hand for me to sit on the stool in front of his desk. I didn't dare to test his patience, so I sat down immediately. He opened one of da filin' drawers and thumbed through the folders. Did cops ever get confused as to which drawers to look? I noticed da constable gave a nod of his head as he pulled out a thick folder and placed it on his desk. He sat down across from me as he opened it. I scratched da back of my head curiously. He couldn't have found somethin' dat fast ... could he?

"Noh, let me see ..." I heard him utter under his breath. "There's a Rupert and a Charlotte Holloway. Both are deceased."

"Dhose were my parents," I said as I nodded. He gave me a stunned look, which told me dat he wasn't expectin' me to say anythin'. I gulped. Did I speak out of turn? But da constable continued to read.

"Rupert Holloway ... Birth name Rudolfo Boitano, son of Charles Holloway and Maria Boitano. Boitano has a sister, Giuliana Pirone-"

"Wait a minute!" I blurted. Constable Smith reacted with surprise to my outburst. Dis time, I didn't care if I spoke out of turn or not. "What did you say my father's birth name was?"

"Boitano," da constable replied. "It's an Italian surname, so this Charles Holloway is noht the real father."

My mouth hung open as I listened to what Constable Smith told me. I was Italian!?

"It also looks like yer noht the only one with a criminal past," he continued. "I'm showing a Fabrizio Boitano, son of Giuseppe and Apollonia Boitano, yer second-cousin. He was arrested for the attempted murder of his divorced wife, Angela Bennings. Noht to mention causin' public disturbances in taverns beforehand." Somehow, dat last comment offended me. I haven't even met dis second-cousin of mine yet, and da constable's already makin' fun of my relative!? I t'ink he noticed my reaction because he waved his hand up and down, which I assumed he was tellin' me to calm down. "I also see there's a Lucio Boitano residing in Sicily, Italy, a powerful leader of the Sicilian mob. But the rest of the Boitanos live in Liverpool."

My mind was ablaze as I looked at Father Richards. I did have livin' relatives! And dhey lived in Liverpool!

I arrived home in an unusually talkative mood, surprisin' da Collins. Father Richards and I had spent hours fishin' for more information on da Boitanos. Constable Smith only had information on who was deceased and who had criminal records, like dat of dis Fabrizio character. We went to da library (imagine, me in a library!). It turned out Maria Boitano was an Opera singer, and someone by da name of Annabella was enlisted in da British Navy. A woman in da Navy!? Was dis a joke!? And Giuseppe Boitano, Fabrizio's father, was a college professor and inventor! I couldn't help but tell my foster parents everyt'ing I learned. I must've talked dheir ears off ... or talkin' too fast, because Anna kept askin' me to repeat everyt'ing I was sayin'slowly. But I couldn't keep my mouth shut! I t'ink I spotted Niecy on my way back home (she must've been out on errands), and she had a surprised look on her face when she saw me. I wouldn't have been surprised if she didn't even recognize me; I'm not a very optimistic guy and she knows it. But tonight I was overcome with dis really good feelin' ... and it did not come from a full moon!

"Well, I see you've been enlightened, my son," said Albert. Yeah, dat was da word! Enlightened! "I just have one question: what are you going to do now?"

Suddenly, my mind went blank. It was as if dat good feelin' I had came to an abrupt halt ... and it was replaced with worry. Why was it whenever I felt really good about anythin', somethin' I don't want to hear always followed!?

"Albert is right, Finnius," Anna added. "It's good that you've acquired a lot of knowledge. But what is knowledge if it isn't put to good use?"

I began to frown. Dhey were right, of course. I hadn't even t'ought dat far, I was too enthused by what I learned. Dis was a reason why I'm not an optimistic guy. Anytime I dreamed up somethin' big, someone always had to crush it! I slumped back in my chair, my ears dropped downward. "So you're sayin' I wasted my time, right?"

"No, not at all!" Anna blurted, lookin' and soundin' guilty for bein' honest with me. "What we're saying is that you should put that knowledge to good use."

My heart suddenly lept as her last comment took me by surprise. Was I missin' somethin'?

"You looked so jealous when everyone else was visiting relatives," Albert added. "And now you know you have living relatives. Are you just going to leave it at that?"

Dat good feelin' came back, only dis time I felt a lump in my t'roat dat I couldn't speak. Of course I wasn't gonna leave it at dat! I can't believe I was so stupid to miss da point of my foster parents' advice!

"I don't believe it!"

Shortly after tellin' my foster parents da good news, I decided to use da time I had left to tell Niecy too. It was midnight, da Collins went to bed an hour earlier. Luckily, Albert and Anna were gracious enough to understand my sleepin' patterns. Albert gave me da key to da house and reminded me not to make too much noise when I returned. When I visited her home on Addington Street, Niecy greeted me, wearing a glitterin' gold dress with danglin' gold earrin's. She had her butter-toned hair cut short just above her shoulders, and it looked thicker than usual. One side of her bangs covered her right eye and her side-strands were missin'. Niecy looked so ... different! But she still looked good. I assumed her hair change was part of a stage performance at da Rat Trap. I couldn't control myself because I jumped at her with a hug and kiss, takin' her by surprise. I half-expected her to slap me, but couldn't care less. She doesn't like to be taken by surprise, yet she likes to take me by surprise. Surprisingly, she didn't slap me at all.

"So you have living relatives?!" said Niecy. "It's no wonder you're in a good mood!"

"I t'ink I saw you earlier," I replied, "when I returned home with Father Richards."

Niecy nodded. "I was returning from The Rat Trap; I had to stop at the market for more food. My cupboards were nearly bare."

"I figured as much. Sorry for not saying hello sooner."

Niecy gave me her radiant smile. "I like seeing you happy, Finnius. It brings out the best in you."

I smiled in return, dhough I was speechless. If dhere was one t'ing Niecy was good at, it was makin' me smile ... outside and inside. It took me a while before I could speak again. "Um, Niecy?"

"Yes, love?"

"Well, now dat I know where my relatives are ... I wanna visit dhem."

Niecy's smile faded. She looked a little worried. It started to make me worry too. Did I say somethin' wrong? "Liverpool is far from here," she said. "You'd have to take the train."

I nodded. "I know."

"But you don't know what they look like. Even if you go to Liverpool, how will you know them if you see them?"

I expected her to ask such questions as dat. Niecy was as logical as she was beautiful, somethin' I both admired and envied about her. "My grandmother is an Opera singer, Niecy. She sings at da Liverpool Playhouse ... and dhere's an Opera called A Love Lost; she stars in it. Found dis all out at da library."

"I still say it may be harder than you think," said Niecy. "You don't know Liverpool that well ... and it could be dangerous."

Dat last part made me laugh. Did she forget dat I was a pirate? And she was tellin' me about dangerous!? "Niecy I'll be fine," I answered with a wave of my hand.

"I should probably come with you."

"No!" I blurted. Dat was da last t'ing I wanted! "You've done enough for me, Niecy."

Dis caught her by surprise, and not a pleasant one. She never liked it when I said "no" to her, yet she always liked to tell me "no." She insisted dat we should always stick together, no matter what. But dis was somethin' I had to do on my own. I insisted on goin' alone; she got da idea.

"Just promise me you'll be careful," Niecy urged. "I don't want anything to ... happen to you."

Dat was my Niecy, always lookin' out for other people's well-bein'.

I spent da week plannin' my trip to Liverpool. Anna frequently checked on me to make sure I packed enough clothes, Albert gave me a map of Liverpool and some spendin' money. Father Richards gave me a couple of books to read during da train ride (it figures ... he always liked to give me a lot of homework!). I bought my ticket in advance, since da ticket office closed after a certain hour. Niecy would be da one to escort me to da train station until it was time for me to get on board. Dat evening had come; Niecy was waitin' outside my door. I dragged my suitcase to da hansom dat waited for us. It would take us to da train station; Niecy and I hopped on board.

When we arrived at da train station, I was surprised by da crowd of mice dat were waitin'. I wasn't da only one headin' to Liverpool. A bunch of mice stared at us as Niecy and I approached. Now I was gettin' nervous. I was so excited about findin' out dat I had livin' relatives and wanted so much to see dhem. Now dat da night had finally come, I began to shake. Was I movin' way too fast? I took a few deep breaths to relax, but I couldn't sneak a t'ing past Niecy. She looked at me in da face with dhose green eyes of hers. Was she goin' to give me a told you so kind of remark? Or try to get me to change my mind?

"Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?" asked Niecy. "You're trembling so much."

"I'm just excited, dat's all," I lied. I'm sure Niecy knew dat I was lyin' (she was very good at dat). But I couldn't allow myself to cower away from an opportunity such as dis. And Niecy knew it.

"It's quite an adventure, isn't it?" she said with a smile as she knelt to my height. "Especially when you're meeting your blood family for the first time. I suppose I would be just as nervous too." I suddenly stopped tremblin'. What was it about Niecy's words dat had dat kind of power? Whether she sang or talked to me, it was like da world around me became a blur; I'd forget what I was nervous about. "I'm sure your family will welcome you with open arms," she continued. "No doubt you'll be safe with them."

We wrapped ourselves in each other's wings. It was hard for me to let go, and I imagined it was da same for her. "I'll stay outta trouble, Niecy. I promise ..."

Da train whistle sounded, which meant it was time for me to leave. I hurried inside, but not before givin' Niecy one last kiss on her cheek. As da slidin' doors closed behind me, I looked back to see her turn around and fly away. Now I was flyin' away, da journey as my new set of wings.