PROBLEMATIC

Chapter 8

oOoOo

Morelli. Practically half my life was impacted by that name. Not just Joseph Anthony Morelli. However, lately, I preferred to call him Joseph Asshole Morelli. Whatever. The initials were still the same.

Growing up, I was always told to "watch out for those Morelli boys". My first encounter was when I was a naïve child of six. The rest is history. But it still astounds me that years later, after I cleared his name – for which he tried to take the credit – that my mother started inviting him to dinner. Even when we were in an off phase. Come to think of it, it was always at those times. My mother was deliberately trying to get us back together! She was in cahoots with his mother! Scheming was not beneath them. I was so easily sucked in. Looking back, they manipulated me, taking advantage when I was more vulnerable. It was quite a seasonal thing, like when times were tough and skips were staying low. Winter. Hm. Coincidentally, it often coincided when Ranger was in the wind. Yes, my mother and Angie Morelli were thick as thieves.

Morelli's mother, Angela Morelli, and his fearsome grandmother, Bella Morelli, were also very problematic, each in their own way, but together they were a diabolical pair. When Joe was FTA, as my very first skip, his mother mortgaged her house to pay for his $100,000 bail.

Angie Morelli, widowed a lot of years, was considered by the Burg as a housewife of heroic proportions. She cleaned her windows cleaner, made her wash whiter, and made better ziti than what God could do. Joe always raved about her lasagne and especially her manicotti. Angie was a revered and respected pillar of the community. Perhaps part of that was because she was a survivor from a home where domestic violence was the norm. Nobody talked openly about domestic violence in the Burg, but everyone knew. Domestic violence was not a term coined in those days. Men had power over women, and with that kind of mentality, it was not frowned upon. Women had to obey. It was in their vows. But add alcohol to the violence and it became more brutal.

Anthony Morelli senior was a mean drunkard who could have been bought for a six pack, but he was dead. He cheated on his wife and beat her, as well as the children. Bar room brawls were frequent and that was how he met his demise. His sons followed in his footsteps. Bar room brawls and womanising were traits he passed on. The Morelli Curse. Morelli got good with his hands as a kid. He could use them in a fight, fight dirty, and he could use them to coax girls out of their clothes. That was another trait encouraged by his father.

Joe's brother Anthony, mostly known as Tony, married Angelina. They had children. Quite often Angelina kicked Tony out of the house for his drunken ways, or his philandering. Somehow, they always got back together. It was hard bringing up "little Anthony" and a bunch of kids on her own. Once he was shot in the butt with nail gun. Men with booze in their belly doing stupid things. Another time he was arrested for attempting to bribe a cop. Such an idiot. Cousin Mooch Morelli, but Michael was his actual name, was always in the mix. Joe, Tony and Mooch were a wild bunch. They thought they were God's gift to women. That's probably where Morelli created the title The Italian Stallion. Best ass in town. Ass is right. Sadly, most of the women would call him "the best ass in town". Lula was always eyeing his ass, and more.

Joe's little sister Cathy was married. She was the sensible one, having little to do with her brothers and cousin, the wild ones. She moved away from the Burg with her husband. Angie Morelli was all about her boys, her handsome men. She doted on Joe in particular. But, mothers love their sons, especially if they have good looks.

Even when his Aunt Rose died, Morelli inherited her house on Slater, while Cathy got the furniture. He was the favoured one. Maybe, they were compensating for the extra beatings he suffered from his father in the garage. Who knows? Don't care. He was indulged and enabled ever since. Because of his movie star good looks, he played on that. Yes, I got sucked into that too. Someone called Janet noted that, and he believed it. Since he joined the police department, he seemed to settle down. Angie used that in her power play. "My Joey is a respected member of the community. He's a police detective now." It automatically elevated her status.

Together, my mother and Angie Morelli had a lot of influence in the Burg. Gossip was a favourite pastime of the Bitter Bitches of the Burg. Thou shalt not throw stones… yeah. Many rumours were spread and I was a frequent target.

Remarkably, my mother did not side with me, but seemed to take great relish in expressing her disappointment in me. She defended Valerie, always. She defended Joe Morelli even, taking his perspective, and reports verbatim. Ergo, I must be lying, because Joseph already told her what happened! He's a police detective, after all. Insert massive eye roll here! He lied. He only told half-truths or focused on the negative aspects like my appearance, my cars, any explosions which must be my fault.

Worst of all I was often on the front page of the Trenton Times, sometimes page three.

"Oh, why me? The shame. The embarrassment. Proper Burg girls aren't disgraced on the front page. Where did I go wrong with you, Stephanie?"

My mother added these with a few quick glances up to the Lord as she would have crossed herself a number of times. All that was missing were the rosary beads, to kiss them devoutly. Sanctimonious shit and all that holier than thou nonsense. She thrived on those, playing up her martyr role. Such a sham.

Another pet topic were the scathing and lingering reports of my loud and acrimonious divorce from Dickie Orr.

Catholics do not divorce.

I know right? I had it drilled in to me. Ad nauseum.

Divorced. And a Catholic.

That's a huge no, no. A double disgrace. Shocking. Tut, tut.

Oh. Gee. What a surprise! So was Valerie!

Oh, Helen Plum! Now that is scandalous! That's two divorced daughters! Oh, the shame. What will the neighbours say about that? How does that reflect on your precious Burg standing? Yes. I was being sarcastic. No, I was not jealous of Valerie by any means. I was just a bit stunned by our mother's bigotry. Not surprised, mind you.

Let's not forget that Valerie had a child out of wedlock, more than one it seems. My mother, such double standards. Valerie was never criticised for those deeds. There was no embarrassment, and I never heard of any chastisements either. "Poor Valerie". *insert another eye roll here* She was not sent back to her cheating, philandering husband. On the contrary, she was welcomed with wide open arms. My mother the hypocrite. The favouritism had always existed. Nothing new there. The inequity. Same old, same old. Meh. I was no longer a child. So over it and her duplicity.

Valerie "redeemed" herself because having grandchildren in my mother's opinion was more important and could trump the scandal of divorce. What will the neighbours say? She played up the "Poor Valerie" card. Two daughters and both divorced was not as bad as two children abandoned by a cheating father. Lordy, Lordy. Let's not even mention paternity. Then Valerie got pregnant again! Not married. The great gravy-eating white whale. But, eventually we got Valerie and Albert married, at Disney World, in Orlando, Florida, after the baby was born. See, away from the Burg, far away. Babies, namely, grandchildren invalidates and overrules the previous shame. Like an annulment. Once again, Valerie, the exemplary older daughter, outshines Stephanie, the younger disreputable daughter.

That Angie and my mother were so eager on a Plum-Morelli alliance was strange. It was an obsession, especially with my mother. Somehow, I would have thought Valerie and Joseph was a more likely union, since they were the same age.

The Morellis were devout Catholics, of course. Going to church was expected. Angie would always know who missed Sunday mass. The Burg women were very wary of Angie Morelli. That's why my mother, Helen Plum, attached herself to Angie Morelli, for safety and security and sharing the power. Slyly, I also think for protection. Angie Morelli had a lot of influence in the Burg.

While keeping things in the family, in the Burg, the scariest of all was Grandma Bella Morelli. When I close my eyes, I can clearly visualise her wicked aura, always dressed in black and the worrisome threats of that eye! An involuntary shudder escapes me.

Ever since I was a child, we were afraid of Bella Morelli, who instilled fear in all the neighbourhood children as we grew up. We believed she was a witch, with her white hair and those piercing hawk-like eyes, always dressed in black. All that was missing was the pointy witch's hat.

Later, as an adult, it always amazed me how well Angie got on with her mother-in-law. Angie used that to maximum advantage, as extra power and influence, while they always shopped together, and went to church together. It was evident in simple things like when the Burg ladies instinctively cleared a path for them as they walked through a crowd at Giovichinni's Meat Market. Not out of respect mind you. Fear. Fear of Bella Morelli, the scary matriarch of the Morelli family.

Bella Morelli had the evil eye, or so she believed, and she used it at any opportunity. Maybe she was just a grumpy old lady. But, deep down, wary as I had always been, I think she knew exactly what she was doing. Crafty old hag. Crone. Whatever. She took great pleasure in causing fear and chaos, especially when they had to wait. No one dared to question it. Even grown men scurried for cover when she turned her pale old woman's eye on them, or pointed her bony finger in their direction. She gave Ziggy Glitch the eye, and his teeth fell out.

Once, at a local wedding, Julie Morelli's, coincidentally, I was Morelli's plus one. Terry Gilman appeared. What a surprise. Apparently, she was a cousin to the groom. Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd. Initially, I wondered if it was because of Terry looking at me, accompanied by Morelli. When I asked Joe what that was all about, the hush you know, his answer was simple.

"Grandma Bella has just arrived. That was the sound of terror spreading through the room."

I couldn't have described it better. I made an involuntary shudder, with goose bumps crawling down my arms, just like when someone walks over your grave. He always made light of it, amused at the impact she had, a simple old lady. Pfft. Simple old lady? No way! Devious and crafty old woman.

It never seemed to bother him, since 'Joey' was her favourite grandson. He was the chosen one, the one who, allegedly, escaped the Morelli curse. The Golden Boy. Because of that she often sought me out, especially when Joe and I were together, in the On phase.

In fact, Joe was quite blasé about it, especially when she had her visions. After revealing those visions, she would suddenly feel tired and would need to rest. Thank goodness. She would get quite intense with her visions, which were mostly nasty apparitions. Or they were scary ones, seeing babies, four or five Morelli babies! Yikes! Me? Morelli spawn? Nope.

Instilling fear is her favourite game. A sport played at the expense of others. In a way it was a lot about attention seeking, but I never dared to verbalise that. Actually, it was a kind of power play. She enjoyed the notoriety and played on that, for sure. Many old people just fade into the background. Not Bella Morelli! She was never to be underestimated.

Grandma Bella, as I called her sometimes, was a wiry little old lady, a head shorter than her daughter-in-law. Dressed in Old Country black, you'd swear she came direct from Sicily. Think Sicily, and organised crime, and La Cosa Nostra come to mind, from her era, and before. This was reinforced by her appearance, with the sombre black dresses, black stockings, and sensible black shoes, while keeping her white hair pulled into a bun, tied at the nape of her narrow chicken neck. Even at the wedding, she was in her usual sombre black. The only difference this time was some sparkle in her black evening cardigan and the matching beaded clutch purse. Her dangly jet earrings matched her jet necklace. She rarely wore much jewellery, other than her gold earrings.

Malocchio. That was the evil eye. Grandma Bella exploited that, knowing the Burg people were superstitious, which made them such easy prey. Yes, prey. She was a predator. I bet she cackled inwardly. She believed she had the power. Yes. She had the power to instil fear, that's for sure. Misfortune and unluckiness, were always conveyed with negative energy and sometimes causing illness. They were the main elements of her alleged power. Men were frightened she'd curse them and cause their manhood to shrivel. Teeth fell out, men went bald, some people got warts, or boils. I even had a massive pimple on my forehead after she cursed me.

"Looks like Krakatoa," Lula had declared at the time. Such a big help. Morelli just put it down to eating too many doughnuts.

However, regarding his Grandma Bella's evil eye, Joe just laughed it off, "She's a crazy old lady. Spells are her hobby."

"It's a bad hobby," I retorted.

"It's harmless," he countered. "Spells aren't real."

Being so dismissive didn't help my dilemma, since Grandma Bella cursed me with the Vordo curse, so that Morelli would think I was a slut. She didn't think I was good enough for her Joey.

Vordo? I wanted to know what she meant with Vordo. I had no idea what the hell Vordo meant. I was a bit scared. Did I believe it? Hell. I don't know. Taking the risk to ignore it was a gamble I was not prepared to make. See? Fear. Confusion. Misunderstanding. Terror came close. It was disturbing. It made me feel uneasy. Is she for real? Can she do that to me? That is how she operates. Scaring the shit out of people.

I asked Connie if she knew anything about it, you know, Vordo. Later that morning she got back to me. Great. According to her Aunt Pauline, Connie confirmed that Vordo was one of those Old Country curses, supposed to make you horny. A sex curse. Yup. That it did, alright. Jeez. First with Morelli. Ranger too. But that was even stronger. More powerful. Nice. Yummy. Yikes. I paused and caught my breath, nearly choking on the water bottle from which I was sipping. Would I be affected by other men I encountered by the Vordo curse? Please no. Would she do that to me? Is it real? Um. I wasn't getting anywhere near Vinnie. Eeuw. Thank God. I do not want to test that possibility. Perhaps I should stay away from Rangeman. That could be dangerous! Oh boy. Fanning myself here.

I still sigh at the memory. Getting freaky in Ranger's apartment, multiple times, and even in his Porsche 911, which was quite a challenge. Ranger was more than happy to oblige. I was in the car with Ranger, the Porsche, after a surveillance job. I wondered out loud if it could be done in a Porsche. Ranger didn't falter. When I declared that his apartment was too far away, he'd quickly parked in a blind alley between two buildings. That was the Vordo effect. The urgency and the strong desire were so hyper-elevated. My hormones were on fire that I was ready to self-combust. I didn't even hesitate. Nor did Ranger. We succeeded, with me straddled over him, face to face, one leg out with my foot on the ground, his door open, and my other foot on the console. The only problem was my ass kept hitting the horn. Beeeep! Beeeep, beeeep, beeep, beepbeepbeepbeepbeep! Omigod. Fanning myself. Omigod. I blush each time just thinking about it. Holy hot flash, Batman! He left my hormones, and other parts of me, humming. Even now, the thought of it brings a flush to my face and an extra beat to my heart.

Yes. That was how it happened. I blame it on the Vordo curse. Afterwards, Ranger wanted to send Bella a gift. Men! Of course, I rolled my eyes which made him laugh.

With a smirk, he called it, "Animal magnetism". *insert another eye roll*

I was conflicted. To keep me from jumping back into his bed, I told Morelli I had a bladder infection, and, under advisement from Lula, I even wore granny panties! Facepalm. But it did work, only just. I was saved by the bell, his phone, which, suffice to say, was another factor that stopped me from jumping Morelli's bones. After the initial shock and utter surprise, he did get the granny panties off me. He tossed them aside. The phone call was a work thing. Saved. In the meantime, Bob ate the granny panties! So, I had to go commando. Oh boy. Vordo was scarily, yet tantalisingly exciting.

A couple of days later, I chanced to meet Grandma Bella in a church, just as I was leaving through the main doors. It was funny, in a weird kind of way, but complicated. Seeing Grandma Bella there was most unexpected. It wasn't our local church, but it was a Catholic church. I had just filled a Super Soaker for Lula, with (not) holy water, but from the bathroom, you know, for vampire deflection, one of my crazy skips. When Grandma Bella asked what I was doing in the church, I told her I liked to pray in a quiet place. I know, a lie, in church. God forgive me. Ironically, it met her approval, being in a church to pray quietly. She agreed, saying she felt the need for that too, at times. With that, as a sign of clemency, she removed the Vordo curse. So, after that, the hot zone was like the dead zone. I was frightened she had reversed it too much!

I'm still frightened of Grandma Bella. Terrified. Keeping off her radar was a matter of safety, and sanity.

Bella Morelli was definitely problematic. So was Angie Morelli, especially when my own mother worked with her against me. The entire Morelli clan, the men, were problematic, not just for me, but also in the Burg.

And, who goes into a church, a Catholic church, with a Super Soaker? Anti-Vampire deflection logic. Pfft. Lula made catching some skips even more difficult than they should have been. Why did I indulge her crazy ideas? It was stupid. The only redeeming part was losing the Vordo curse. Maybe. Sh.

It's quite easy looking back, seeing all these problematic people and events that I allowed to control my life. I needed to escape from that. From them, from the Burg.

But there was more.

oOoOo