A/N: Dyslexics rule because they reviewed ^_^
Disclaimer: *does a tap dance*
~*~
I woke up early the next day and left for Nonna's without buying any papes, inwardly scolding myself for thinking longingly of poker and cards. When I got to her apartment, I was met by Miss Know It All herself, who hissed at me that Nonna was asleep before flipping her long, curly black hair over her shoulder and stalking off to the kitchen. Just once I'd like to get that miraculously white apron of hers really good and dirty. In a grouchy mood, I climbed out onto the fire escape to smoke while I waited.
My mind wandered back to eleven years ago. (A/N: Flashback!!) Momma was cooking something but I was whining for her to play with me. Typical. She left the kitchen to come to me and didn't think anything of it. Papa was reading his paper and smiled at us over the top of it. Then the baby woke up, and Momma went in to him. She called for Papa, I think. I didn't notice, I was so used to having all their attention that I resented the baby. They called him Sal, short for Salvatore. Whatever. Anthony Higgins didn't take second place to nobody. I was so angry that I didn't tell them that fog was in the kitchen. I went through the window to the fire escape, pouting. I don't remember how long I was out there, but the baby stopped crying and Momma and Papa went back into the living room. I heard Momma calling me, but I ignored her. So now she wanted to play with me. She told Papa to look for me, and to get the baby. The baby! Everyone worried about the baby! Tears streamed over my little cheeks as I sat on the fire escape. A peculiar smell was coming from the house. It smelled like the time Momma had accidentally set her sleeve on fire. I heard Papa shouting and choking, Momma screamed for me. It sounded like she was crying. I turned around and almost fell off the fire escape in shock.
The fog had eaten our apartment. "Tony!" screamed my mother from the belly of the cloud. I began to cry. What if the fog left with my Momma and Papa inside it? I was afraid to walk inside to get to them. It looked like the inside of the stove was eating the fog; flames licked the walls and charred the carpet. I screamed for my parents, even the baby. No one answered. Someone was crying, and suddenly people were yelling. Hands grabbed me from behind and yanked me farther and farther from the monster that had eaten my parents and brother. Tears clouded my eyes as I called in vain for my mother. Why had I left them alone with the evil monster? "Momma!" I screamed, struggling against my captor. "Papa! Help me!"
No one came. No one explained to me what had happened until much later. No one seemed to care that the fog had eaten my family. No one except Nonna and her husband, our neighbors. He died soon after. When I asked her if the fog had eaten him too, she cried and nicknamed me her 'Poco Fedele', or Little Faithful. Nonna wasn't my biological grandmother, but she insisted that I call her that. Nonna cared for me until I took it upon myself to move into the lodging house so as to not impose on her. Nonna welcomed me back to her apartment whenever I needed food, or a bed to sleep in, or a wise word. Nonna was the only family I had, and I wasn't about to loose her.
Staring out over the rooftops, I exhaled and watched the smoke cloud my vision. Just like the smoke that poured from the mouth of the oven. I threw the cigar off the escape, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.
The window banged open, and I whirled around. Matilda was standing in the apartment with her hands on the hips of her navy blue dress and that perfect apron. At first glance, she looked stern and put out, but then she met my eyes and her expression softened. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly, climbing out the window next to me.
"Nuttin" I snapped, looking away. She was the last person I wanted to see. I could almost hear her frown.
"Well sorry, I was just being nice. If-"
"You? Nice? Fat Chance."
She huffed. "Well fine then, be moody. I just came out to tell you that Nonna's awake-"
I swiveled around to face her and glared. "You can't call 'er Nonna, you hear? She's my Nonna, not yours. You call 'er Mrs. Tortella, or Maria, or whatever you want, but not Nonna! You hear me? She's mine!" I shouted.
She looked stung, but for once didn't glare at me. "I-I'm sorry, she said that I could," she whispered.
The anger inside me wouldn't die. "No! I don't care if you wanna to call 'er Queen Victoria, you don't call 'er Nonna! Got it?"
She nodded.
I stomped over to the window and slammed it once I was inside. Let her stay out there.
*
Matilda didn't speak to me for the rest of the day, which I considered a good thing. Nonna seemed to notice the mounting tension, and I think she wanted to say something to me about it, but held her tongue. When I went to leave at the end of the day, she whispered, "Love all, Poco Fedele"
I squeezed her little hand and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Nonna. Take care."
*
The next morning, I bought a few papers to keep the suspicion at bay, not feeling like sharing my story with any of the boys. And if I could finally convince Nonna to sleep, I'd have something to do rather than watch Matilda huff around the house avoiding me. Stupid brat, who did she think she was, taking my Nonna away?
I didn't buy enough papes to take up the time. I caught up with a circulating craps game on the corner of 44th and Market (A/N: Do those streets exist in NY? We can pretend) and busted almost all of what I'd made that day, which wasn't much. Feeling defeated, I shuffled back to Nonna's place.
Matilda answered the door, and avoided my eyes when I came in. "She's still asleep," she said in response to my unasked question. I actually felt bad for being mean to her yesterday.
That was until the meatball incident.
Knowing that Nonna wouldn't mind if I helped myself to some bread for breakfast, I made my way into the kitchen and for the first time in days, voluntarily went into a room that I knew Minna was in. I shook my head. When had I started referring to her as "Minna?" Oh well, it was kind of a pretty name, it suited her..
She was standing over the old metal garbage can, scraping something into it. "What're ya doin?" I asked her, peering over her shoulder.
She sighed and stopped. 'Well, I guess Maria woke up early today, and she got out of bed, see. I came around four and she was in the kitchen trying to make meatballs and pasta for you. I told her to go back to bed but she wouldn't listen, I finally had to get Mr. Jenkins in here to convince her."
"So what's with the trash can?" I asked, an unpleasant suspicion growing rapidly.
She looked desperate. "Well, I didn't know what to do with it, I cant cook and I don't know anyone who can-"
"WHAT'RE YA DOIN?"
She continued loudly "I thought that it being here might be a temptation for her to get up again, she needs to rest so she can beat this-"
"SO YOU MARCH IN HERE AND THROW IT AWAY?"
She whirled around to face me, her face red with anger. "You're not the only one who cares about her! You obviously don't know what's best for her! I'm only trying to help!"
"You're not helping! She spent time on that and you think that just because you're her new little pet that you can just lord over everyone-"
"I AM NOT LORDING!"
"OH YES YOU ARE!"
"OH NO I'M NOT!"
"She loves me better!" I shouted, knowing that I sounded like the pouty five-year-old that was responsible for the death of his family. This was too much to handle. Stupid, stupid girl. "She's not your Nonna, she's mine, she doesn't love you, she loves me! Ya hear?"
"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I know that no one loves me? I'm only trying to help my NEIGHBOR get better, not steal your grandmother! You have a lot of problems, Racetrack Higgins, you know that? Stay out of my life!"
I snorted. "No one loves ya my ass, I don't feel sorry for ya one bit, so shut up and get out!"
"NO!"
A loud noise made us stop our shouting match and turn in the direction of the noise. Mr. Jenkins senior was standing in the doorway, looking like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"Wh-what is going on here?"
We both launched into furious explanations of what exactly was going on, making it impossible for him to hear what we were saying. He seemed to get the idea, though, and pulled me over to a chair at the table by the back of my vest. He leaned over to Min-Matilda! and talked to her quietly. I was furious and it must have showed on my face, because Mr. Jenkins looked a little scared when he turned to face me. Matilda stood, scowling, with her arms crossed in the corner. There was red sauce on her immaculate apron, but for once, I didn't care.
Mr. Jenkins quietly explained that Nonna needed rest, and that we both had to learn to get along, and blah, blah, blah. I mumbled responses when they seemed to fit, hating Matilda more and more with each second. As soon as Mr. Jenkins stood up and said, "Ok?" I mumbled "Whatever" and stomped out to the fire escape to wait for Nonna to wake up.
*
Nearly a week went by like this, my selling papes early in the morning and going up to Nonna's via the fire escape in an attempt to avoid Matilda. We were never in the same room for more that two minutes, and had silent but furious scowling contests when we had to be. Nonna looked worriedly from one to the other, and I quietly assured her that nothing was wrong; there was dust in my eye, and not to worry. I don't think she bought it. I didn't expect her to. It felt almost like I was playing a rigged deck, lying to Nonna was never something I was good at. But it was best for her not to worry, and if that meant keeping my 'don't-soak-a-girl' rule, that's how it would have to be.
~*~
A/N: Today's.. *counts on her fingers*.. three months till I'm 16.. mwahahaha.. But that really has nothing to do with the story. Review because..uh..I said so.
Disclaimer: *does a tap dance*
~*~
I woke up early the next day and left for Nonna's without buying any papes, inwardly scolding myself for thinking longingly of poker and cards. When I got to her apartment, I was met by Miss Know It All herself, who hissed at me that Nonna was asleep before flipping her long, curly black hair over her shoulder and stalking off to the kitchen. Just once I'd like to get that miraculously white apron of hers really good and dirty. In a grouchy mood, I climbed out onto the fire escape to smoke while I waited.
My mind wandered back to eleven years ago. (A/N: Flashback!!) Momma was cooking something but I was whining for her to play with me. Typical. She left the kitchen to come to me and didn't think anything of it. Papa was reading his paper and smiled at us over the top of it. Then the baby woke up, and Momma went in to him. She called for Papa, I think. I didn't notice, I was so used to having all their attention that I resented the baby. They called him Sal, short for Salvatore. Whatever. Anthony Higgins didn't take second place to nobody. I was so angry that I didn't tell them that fog was in the kitchen. I went through the window to the fire escape, pouting. I don't remember how long I was out there, but the baby stopped crying and Momma and Papa went back into the living room. I heard Momma calling me, but I ignored her. So now she wanted to play with me. She told Papa to look for me, and to get the baby. The baby! Everyone worried about the baby! Tears streamed over my little cheeks as I sat on the fire escape. A peculiar smell was coming from the house. It smelled like the time Momma had accidentally set her sleeve on fire. I heard Papa shouting and choking, Momma screamed for me. It sounded like she was crying. I turned around and almost fell off the fire escape in shock.
The fog had eaten our apartment. "Tony!" screamed my mother from the belly of the cloud. I began to cry. What if the fog left with my Momma and Papa inside it? I was afraid to walk inside to get to them. It looked like the inside of the stove was eating the fog; flames licked the walls and charred the carpet. I screamed for my parents, even the baby. No one answered. Someone was crying, and suddenly people were yelling. Hands grabbed me from behind and yanked me farther and farther from the monster that had eaten my parents and brother. Tears clouded my eyes as I called in vain for my mother. Why had I left them alone with the evil monster? "Momma!" I screamed, struggling against my captor. "Papa! Help me!"
No one came. No one explained to me what had happened until much later. No one seemed to care that the fog had eaten my family. No one except Nonna and her husband, our neighbors. He died soon after. When I asked her if the fog had eaten him too, she cried and nicknamed me her 'Poco Fedele', or Little Faithful. Nonna wasn't my biological grandmother, but she insisted that I call her that. Nonna cared for me until I took it upon myself to move into the lodging house so as to not impose on her. Nonna welcomed me back to her apartment whenever I needed food, or a bed to sleep in, or a wise word. Nonna was the only family I had, and I wasn't about to loose her.
Staring out over the rooftops, I exhaled and watched the smoke cloud my vision. Just like the smoke that poured from the mouth of the oven. I threw the cigar off the escape, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.
The window banged open, and I whirled around. Matilda was standing in the apartment with her hands on the hips of her navy blue dress and that perfect apron. At first glance, she looked stern and put out, but then she met my eyes and her expression softened. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly, climbing out the window next to me.
"Nuttin" I snapped, looking away. She was the last person I wanted to see. I could almost hear her frown.
"Well sorry, I was just being nice. If-"
"You? Nice? Fat Chance."
She huffed. "Well fine then, be moody. I just came out to tell you that Nonna's awake-"
I swiveled around to face her and glared. "You can't call 'er Nonna, you hear? She's my Nonna, not yours. You call 'er Mrs. Tortella, or Maria, or whatever you want, but not Nonna! You hear me? She's mine!" I shouted.
She looked stung, but for once didn't glare at me. "I-I'm sorry, she said that I could," she whispered.
The anger inside me wouldn't die. "No! I don't care if you wanna to call 'er Queen Victoria, you don't call 'er Nonna! Got it?"
She nodded.
I stomped over to the window and slammed it once I was inside. Let her stay out there.
*
Matilda didn't speak to me for the rest of the day, which I considered a good thing. Nonna seemed to notice the mounting tension, and I think she wanted to say something to me about it, but held her tongue. When I went to leave at the end of the day, she whispered, "Love all, Poco Fedele"
I squeezed her little hand and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Nonna. Take care."
*
The next morning, I bought a few papers to keep the suspicion at bay, not feeling like sharing my story with any of the boys. And if I could finally convince Nonna to sleep, I'd have something to do rather than watch Matilda huff around the house avoiding me. Stupid brat, who did she think she was, taking my Nonna away?
I didn't buy enough papes to take up the time. I caught up with a circulating craps game on the corner of 44th and Market (A/N: Do those streets exist in NY? We can pretend) and busted almost all of what I'd made that day, which wasn't much. Feeling defeated, I shuffled back to Nonna's place.
Matilda answered the door, and avoided my eyes when I came in. "She's still asleep," she said in response to my unasked question. I actually felt bad for being mean to her yesterday.
That was until the meatball incident.
Knowing that Nonna wouldn't mind if I helped myself to some bread for breakfast, I made my way into the kitchen and for the first time in days, voluntarily went into a room that I knew Minna was in. I shook my head. When had I started referring to her as "Minna?" Oh well, it was kind of a pretty name, it suited her..
She was standing over the old metal garbage can, scraping something into it. "What're ya doin?" I asked her, peering over her shoulder.
She sighed and stopped. 'Well, I guess Maria woke up early today, and she got out of bed, see. I came around four and she was in the kitchen trying to make meatballs and pasta for you. I told her to go back to bed but she wouldn't listen, I finally had to get Mr. Jenkins in here to convince her."
"So what's with the trash can?" I asked, an unpleasant suspicion growing rapidly.
She looked desperate. "Well, I didn't know what to do with it, I cant cook and I don't know anyone who can-"
"WHAT'RE YA DOIN?"
She continued loudly "I thought that it being here might be a temptation for her to get up again, she needs to rest so she can beat this-"
"SO YOU MARCH IN HERE AND THROW IT AWAY?"
She whirled around to face me, her face red with anger. "You're not the only one who cares about her! You obviously don't know what's best for her! I'm only trying to help!"
"You're not helping! She spent time on that and you think that just because you're her new little pet that you can just lord over everyone-"
"I AM NOT LORDING!"
"OH YES YOU ARE!"
"OH NO I'M NOT!"
"She loves me better!" I shouted, knowing that I sounded like the pouty five-year-old that was responsible for the death of his family. This was too much to handle. Stupid, stupid girl. "She's not your Nonna, she's mine, she doesn't love you, she loves me! Ya hear?"
"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I know that no one loves me? I'm only trying to help my NEIGHBOR get better, not steal your grandmother! You have a lot of problems, Racetrack Higgins, you know that? Stay out of my life!"
I snorted. "No one loves ya my ass, I don't feel sorry for ya one bit, so shut up and get out!"
"NO!"
A loud noise made us stop our shouting match and turn in the direction of the noise. Mr. Jenkins senior was standing in the doorway, looking like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"Wh-what is going on here?"
We both launched into furious explanations of what exactly was going on, making it impossible for him to hear what we were saying. He seemed to get the idea, though, and pulled me over to a chair at the table by the back of my vest. He leaned over to Min-Matilda! and talked to her quietly. I was furious and it must have showed on my face, because Mr. Jenkins looked a little scared when he turned to face me. Matilda stood, scowling, with her arms crossed in the corner. There was red sauce on her immaculate apron, but for once, I didn't care.
Mr. Jenkins quietly explained that Nonna needed rest, and that we both had to learn to get along, and blah, blah, blah. I mumbled responses when they seemed to fit, hating Matilda more and more with each second. As soon as Mr. Jenkins stood up and said, "Ok?" I mumbled "Whatever" and stomped out to the fire escape to wait for Nonna to wake up.
*
Nearly a week went by like this, my selling papes early in the morning and going up to Nonna's via the fire escape in an attempt to avoid Matilda. We were never in the same room for more that two minutes, and had silent but furious scowling contests when we had to be. Nonna looked worriedly from one to the other, and I quietly assured her that nothing was wrong; there was dust in my eye, and not to worry. I don't think she bought it. I didn't expect her to. It felt almost like I was playing a rigged deck, lying to Nonna was never something I was good at. But it was best for her not to worry, and if that meant keeping my 'don't-soak-a-girl' rule, that's how it would have to be.
~*~
A/N: Today's.. *counts on her fingers*.. three months till I'm 16.. mwahahaha.. But that really has nothing to do with the story. Review because..uh..I said so.