Poor Little Rich Boy
Chapter One: Nasaccio Mafiosa Cornetto
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"It starts a long-a time ago, nel mia città natale di Semolina di Budino."
"Em… I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume you mean your hometown."
"Cie, cie…"
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It was a beautiful morning in Italy. Warm sunbeams graced the townhouse of the Cornetto family. Here lived the famous "Just" Juan Cornetto, his wife Maria, and now their newborn son- Nasaccio Mafiosa Cornetto.
Juan, a handsome crow in his early 30s, reclined in his fine leather chair, reading the newspaper. Maria and their midwife Anita were upstairs, preparing for the baby's arrival. He was told to stay downstairs, and having seen Maria in a bad mood, he wasn't about to question that.
An outcry from upstairs alerted Juan; he jumped in surprise, leaning back and falling over in his chair. He might have been the best lawyer in all of Italy- perhaps all of Europe, even- but he could not escape his own quirkiness.
"Rigoletto!" a female voice shouted in joy. "But, he is-a beautiful! Look, Juan!"
With a heavy sigh, Juan stood and sauntered upstairs. "Coming, mia amore," he responded, ascending the staircase and making his way into Anita's room. "Let-a me see."
Maria lay back on Anita's bed, while their midwife (an older tabby, strangely enough) stood idly by and watched. The happy young mother was a blackbird in her late 20s, and this baby was truly a blessing to her.
As Juan approached the bed, Maria held up a little baby bird- he was considerably small, his feathers just barely covered his naked form… and the little tike was chirping loudly. "Look!" she chimed. "He has-a the handsome black feathers of a crow and-a the mouth of a jackdaw!"
Of course, being hard of hearing in this predicament, Juan misheard his wife. "What?" he questioned. "You sure??"
"Positive!" Maria answered.
Again, Juan did not question what he believed to be his wife's judgment. "Okay!" he shouted, taking the squawking little bird in his arms. "If-a you say so!" With that, he left the room with the baby bird.
Concerned, Anita followed Juan downstairs. "Signore," she addressed, "it is-a not wise to keep-a the baby away from-a his mother for long!"
Unable to hear Anita, Juan continued on his way. He walked into the kitchen, opened the door to the back garden, and tossed the baby outside.
Anita screamed in horror. "Signore!" she cried. "How could-a you?? To your own son?!"
While Juan did agree that what he just did was terrible, he had his reasons. "Cie, I know," he replied, "but-a this is-a what Maria wants, apparentemente."
Again, Maria cried out from upstairs. "Anita!" she shouted. "What is-a happening??"
Quickly, Anita back upstairs, to attend to her mistress. "Il Juan ha lanciato il bambino fuori dalla porta di servizio," she alerted. "Deve averla fraintesa."
To say the least, Maria was furious. She screamed, standing to her feet as quickly as she could and scuttling downstairs. "Juan, lei l'imbecille!" she yelled. "Why would-a you cast aside your own son?!"
Juan was not about to blamed for his misdeed. "Is-a what you tell me to do!" he retorted.
Suddenly, Maria figured it out; it did nothing to calm her down, though. "Osso bucco!" she snapped, slapping her husband across the face. "I say 'feathers of a crow and-a the mouth of a jackdaw' - not 'throw him out of the back door'!"
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"Your old man threw you out the back door when you were a baby?? What kind of dad is he?!"
"Sabrina! Is not-a end of story!"
"… You're right, sorry… please, continue…"
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Meanwhile, little Nacassio laid squirming about in the spaghetti bushes, still chirping loudly. It wasn't long before it caught the attention of over-protective guard dogs and peeved neighbors.
At that moment, a pair of wolves passed by the townhouse. Near as anyone could remember, these tourists were known only as Ron Millar and Remould (as this is what they called themselves as they toured the neighborhood).
One of the wolves, Ronny, approached the fence. "Hey, Remmy!" he shouted. "Take a gander at this!"
"I'm afraid I can't," Remmy remarked. "There don't seem to be any geese around here."
Annoyed, Ronny grabbed Remmy by the ear and gestured to a squawking spaghetti bush. "Check this out," he said. "That spaghetti bush is chirping… loudly, I might add!"
Nodding, Remmy was suddenly struck with a thought. "Wait- spaghetti bushes don't chirp, do they?" he questioned.
Ronny folded his ears back in anger. "How long did it take you to figure that, Sherlock?" he growled. "I say we jump the fence and see what's going on."
The younger brown wolf groaned. "Come on, Ronny," he whined. "My feet hurt, and I wanna get back in time to catch lunch!"
The older gray wolf turned his head around as he scaled the fence. "Oh, stop it, Remmy!" he snapped. "Are you gonna help me out here or what??"
Moaning, Remmy followed Ronny over the fence. "Fine," he muttered, approaching the spaghetti bush. "Aw, it's nothing, Ronny- it's just a baby bird crying for its mommy."
Intrigued, Ronny pushed Remmy aside. "Lemme see," he murmured, picking up the infant. "With a voice like that, no wonder his folks threw him out."
Shocked, Remmy snatched the baby bird from his friend. "Ronny, don't say that!" he yelled. "You're hurting its feelings."
Of course, Ronny remained as blunt as ever. "Come off it," he hissed. "Babies don't have emotions, except hunger and crankiness." He smirked. "Besides, you said you were hungry- why don't you just eat it?"
Remmy pulled the baby bird closer. "No, he's my baby!" he shouted, glancing at little Nacassio. "I'm gonna call you little Ron, after my best buddy." He looked over to Ronny, giving the gray wolf a wide smile.
Not amused in the least, Ronny grabbed the baby bird. "I have a better idea," he said. "Remmy, find some notepaper and a pen in your tour bag."
Confused, the brown wolf warily opened the tour bag slung over his shoulder. "How come?" he asked.
Smiling, Ronny glared at the baby bird. "You'll see…"
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"So? What did the wolves do with you?"
"I'm-a getting to that…"
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While Juan and Maria argued over the course of their actions, Maria went out to check the letter box. Surely the postman had come by now, and she wanted to get away from her masters' bickering.
Anita opened the letter box, and gasped when she found an unexpected surprise inside. "Signore! Signora!" she cried. "Come and-a see- Nacassio has-a been returned to us!"
Quickly, Juan and Maria ran outside and checked the letter box. Sure enough, there laid their precious baby bird, still squawking loudly (only perhaps fussier at this point).
Maria gasped, taking Nacassio in her arms. "Il mio bambino!" she chimed, holding the baby to her bosom.
It was then that Juan noticed something- a note was attached to the baby. He carefully removed the note and read it to himself:
- - - - - - - - - -
"Dear Mr. Cornetto-
"The next time you wanna abandon a baby, try throwing him someplace he won't be noticed. Really, the spaghetti bushes? Surely, you jest.
"From a couple of hungry wolves,
"Ron Millar and Remould"
- - - - - - - - - -
Thinking nothing of the note, Juan crumpled the note in his hands and gave it to Anita. "Throw this in-a the trash," he told the midwife.
Nodding, Anita took the note and left Mr. and Mrs. Cornetto to be with their son. As for the note, she left it in her pocket as she prepared lunch for the family. Alas, a midwife's work is never done…
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"Well, that was an unusual anecdote… please, tell me there's more than that."
"Is much more, Sabrina… is much more…"
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Fortunately, little Nasaccio had plenty of time to grow. A few years later, once he learned to walk and talk (both, to some extent), he was turning out to be a fine little bird. Still, even for a toddler, he had his doubts.
Nasaccio sat patiently at the dining room table, waiting for Anita to bring out his breakfast. Since then, Anita had become more of a babysitter than a midwife- she did all the typical motherly things that Maria was too high-class for (cooking, washing, cleaning, etc).
Finally, Anita walked into the dining room, carrying a silver platter on her shoulder. "Here-a you are, little Nasaccio," she chimed. "I warmed the oatmeal just-a the way you like it, and sprinkled a hint of cinnamon on top. I even have-a fresh biscuits and-a jam."
A small smile crossed Nacassio's beak. "Grazi, Anita," he responded, picking up his spoon. "Guarda delizioso!"
At that moment, Anita gently took Nacassio's feathered hand. "Ah, ah, ah," she said. "Remember your prayers, Nacassio."
Sighing, Nacassio nodded. "Cie, Anita," he muttered, bowing his head and closing his eyes. "Bless this-a day, bless this-a food, bless mama and papa, amen." With a swift hail-Mary gesture, he opened his eyes and picked up his spoon again.
As Nacassio ate his breakfast, Juan entered the room. "Buon giorno, Anita," he greeted his servant, casting eyes on his son. "Buon giorno, Nacassio."
"Buon giorno, papa," Nacassio replied, shoveling oatmeal into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days.
Juan rolled his eyes. "Slow down, son," he advised. "You are not a wolf."
Anita approached Mr. Cornetto. "Buon giorno, Signore," she addressed. "Would-a you like breakfast?"
It was then that Juan glanced at the clock- 8:45 AM. "Not-a this morning, Anita," he responded. "I have-a much to do today." He glanced at his son. "Be good today, Nasaccio. Behave for your dear mother."
Little Nasaccio grumbled, dunking his spoon in the oatmeal bowl. He always said that on… shopping day. Anita might have been in charge of the work around the house, but his mother loved shopping, especially for clothes. Yet, like every little boy, he didn't like her taste in his clothes…
As Juan left for his office, Maria made her way into the dining room. "Buon giorno, Nasaccio," she said, kissing her little boy (or, as close to kissing as birds come). "Are-a you ready for a full day of shopping?"
Slumping down in his chair, Nasaccio groaned quietly. "Cie, Madre," he lied.
Maria seated herself in the chair opposite her son. "Buona," she answered. "We leave as-a soon as-a we finish breakfast." She gestured Anita back to the kitchen, then turned her attention back to the boy. "You said your prayers?"
Nasaccio moaned. "Cie, Madre," he murmured.
The lady blackbird gave her son a sharp look. "Nasaccio, sit-a up straight in-a your seat," she snapped. "Now, hurry and-a finish your oatmeal."
With a heavy sigh, Nasaccio fixed his posture and ate another spoonful of oatmeal. His mother always demanded the best for him, but this wasn't necessarily the best thing for him…
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"I take it your dad was out of the house a lot, and you spent a lot of time with your mom."
"Cie- her and-a Anita."
"I have a feeling this shopping thing idea is going somewhere."
"Cie, you are correct…"
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A few hours later, Nasaccio and Maria were wandering about the city of Rome, shopping for choice clothes for young boys. It was at least an hour's drive from home, but despite the traffic Maria always thought it was worth the strife.
Maria spotted the perfect store (in her opinion, anyway). "Nasaccio, come here!" she gasped. "Is-a the perfect store for you!"
The young bird glanced at the store window. All the clothes were for children, most of them with bright colors and fancy designs. He hated it.
Before Nasaccio had a chance to run away, Maria dragged the boy inside. "Let us try some of these-a outfits!" she chimed.
For the next hour or so, Nasaccio was humiliated as his mother picked out clothes that were, quite possibly, the most uncomfortable and dressy clothes in the store. She wouldn't stop fawning over how adorable he looked in those outfits, and neither could the salespeople.
Finally, Maria went to pay for the clothes. Nasaccio saw his chance and ran out of the store. Of course, he overlooked one small detail- he was still wearing one of the outfits his mother was paying for!
As a result, several people on the street couldn't help but stare at Nasaccio. The men laughed, the women cooed, and the children laughed even harder. Even worse, no matter where the boy went, there were always more people waiting around the corner. Alas, the disadvantage of being lost in a city, wearing a humiliating outfit!
At last, Nasaccio found a dark alleyway and crouched down, hoping no one would see him. He felt like crying after all he'd been through, but what was the use? All the tears in the world couldn't save him from being laughed at…
It was then that Nasaccio felt something hit his head. He rubbed the sore area, and picked up the offending object- a baby rattle.
Sure enough, a baby's babbling laughter caught the boy's attention. Even an infant was laughing at him! He felt so angry… but what could he do?
Then, Nasaccio spotted something else in a nearby trash can. He reached inside and pulled out a small knife. A single word was carved into the handle- stiletto.
Smirking, the young boy wiped a stray tear from his eye and approached the baby, still babbling incoherently as his mother looked away. A balloon tie was wrapped around the infant's wrist; apparently, his mother bought him a bright blue balloon earlier that day.
Young Nasaccio tugged on the balloon string, pulling the balloon down so he could see it at eye-level. The baby was mesmerized by the balloon, reaching out for it.
Suddenly, Nasaccio pulled out the knife and struck the balloon, causing it to burst. As the baby stared into empty space where the balloon used to be, the young boy also reached for the infant and snatched up a cherry-flavored lollipop from himself. He walked away, pleased with his deeds, as the baby began howling for his mother…
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"Your first act of crime… and how old were you? 3, 4, 5?"
"3, almost 4."
"I'm really surprised at how well you remember any of that. I can't remember before my fifth birthday."
"Is easy, when you have-a family who talk so often."
"So… is that what today marks?"
"No, no, no… I forgetted when that happened."
"Well, what does today mean? It's supposed to be an anniversary of something, isn't it?"
"Cie, Sabrina- will get to it eventually, but have-a more to tell… you wish to stay?"
"Hey, I don't have anything better to do."
"Okay, cie. We continue…"
(Don't worry, folks- there's more yet to come. This is only the beginning. In the meantime, leave me a note and tell me what you think so far. Any tips on Italian culture, basic Catholicism, and tourism is appreciated… and please, tell me your thoughts on the story. Thanks much!)