by chickie farella

 

ciao giulia

 

 

There is a saying, “To know where you are going, you’ve got to know where you have been.” I believe that. So I went to Sicily, and when I arrived in Agrigento, I could actually smell my Grandma Carolina. She’s been dead for 20 years. That smell led me through the streets that she walked, to the people she talked and ultimately discovering my mission in life. Everyone has one you know. I’m about to take you on a very interesting journey to meet the charac­ters that the godfathers and the goodfellows left out. Well . . . not really. They were there in spirit. Can you guess? Come on, take a shot . . . . . . the women!

2001 A.D. California Desert

Kneeling at the foot of the “Gramma Mountain,” that’s what Jackie’s nieces and nephews called it when she first introduced them to her. While enjoying the oh so familiar breeze that this un­canny carving of the sleeping body of a pregnant woman renders, she stretches her arms out holding a golden sculpture in her hands, not unlike the way a priest offers up the chalice to the Lord at the altar during the consecration at mass. Her smile was from ear to ear with tears streaming down her face while a couple of the resident flies land for a sip, she whisks them away and says, “Mother, my “cara dea madre mia,” I will miss you so much. You did it! We did it! I’m so proud of you. I hope you’re proud of me.

30,000 B.C.E.

Remembering the tale of Demetra, goddess of agriculture and the ab­duction of her daughter, Proserpina, is like remembering the future. One day Proserpina was plucking flowers with women friends on the banks of Lago di Pergusa, in the center of Sicily. Suddenly the earth opened and Pluto, king of the underworld, emerged in his chariot. With an invisible face, he kidnapped, raped her, and took her below the earth.

 

“Off’a me! Get off of me!”

 

Demetra searched endlessly for her daughter all over Mt. Etna. After several days of futile search, the goddess in her grief, withered all vegeta­tion on the earth

 

“Jackie, wake up!”

 

Zeus, terrified that this rape would lead to a catastrophic lack of agricul­ture, possible total devastation, sent a messenger to persuade Pluto to return Proserpina to her mother, however, Pluto forced her to eat pome­granate seeds, which were symbols of marital fidelity requiring her to stay six months.

 

“Wake up, Jack!”

 

It is said this was the beginning of the seasons. Proserpina is the queen of the underworld during autumn and winter and in the spring and sum­mer she returns to her mother in the upperworld with an abundance of vegetation.

 

“Jackie, wake up!”

Chicago 1983

Jackie is having another bad night. She sits up in bed gasping for air while her body shudders and her shakey hand reaches for the lamp to turn on the light. Ah the light. She knows that the light is her salvation. There’s a knock at the door and her mother asks if she’s ok.

“Yeah Ma, I’m ok.”

Yeah, right. What else is she gonna say? Her mother has always been there for her. How does she share this one with her mom? Palma Fiori instinctively knows when something’s wrong with Jackie and is always there for the rescue. Not this time. Jackie vows never to tell her mom of the visits with the shrink. Coming off a divorce after 15 years of marriage, she still reigns rock’n’roll singer “has been that never was,” black sheep of the family; but she’s back living at home till she “gets on her feet.”

It’s 4:30 a.m. and she has another hour to sleep but decides that it will take at least that much time for her heart to stop pounding in her ear. Her sanity returns once she gets to the gym.

Although tired and a little crabby she knocks out 4 miles on the treadmill. Now, more rejuvenated she wanders into the weight room where she is the only female among a half a dozen guys. Italian guys. Italian-American cop guys whose wives would never think of entering “their room.” She sits at the bench and begins her presses. Holding a 130 lb. barbell equal to her weight, she squeezes her eyes, holding that weight now with her mind, but not for long. Here comes Joey Di.

“Hey miss tough chick. Why don’t you give it up?”

“Please Joey, not today. I’m not in the mood.”

“C’mon pussy, this is a man’s place!”

“Don’t go there Joe. . . .”

“Hey fuck you, nigger bitch!”

Jackie completes her last rep, but instead of placing the barbell in its holding position, she sits up on the bench with the bar still in her hands. Veins protruding from her temples, cops staring in awe, she launches the barbell at Joey Di’s frenzied face. He screams, moves out of the barbell’s way and says, “Whad’ya nuts?” Jackie grabs him by the throat, lunges down on top of him nose to nose, shoves her knee down between his legs and squeezes his throat till his eyeballs swell from their sockets.

“Let me ask you something, Joe. Were you born an asshole or do you take asshole pills? You think your Calabrese ass makes you white? Now I asked you nicely not to fuck with me today, but I told you long ago never to call me those names, you piece of shit!”

So much for sanity.

Unfortunately Jackie is forced to live between the cracks so to speak. She wants to remember this blank face, occasionally having one eye staring. A very familiar yet truly a most horrifying image. So frightening, she’s convinced that if she confronts it, she will die. She has learned the psyche has been protecting her for a long time. So for the time being, Dr. Joan, a Jungian analyst, feels hypnosis is much too dangerous and is trying a new method. Healing through myth. Whatever the early experience, one could find a new path from it. Even though Proserpina’s innocence was seized, ulti­mately she became the Queen of the Underworld.

Presently, she’s not feeling very regal after her somewhat un­ladylike scene in the weight room but she’s not giving up because she knows that she has a mission in life and is bound and deter­mined to find it! She thinks that the journey to the truth will have to start with a trip back to Sicily. This time she will meet face to face with the women who she feels saved her life in the California desert . . . . . . The Black Madonnas.

The day isn’t lost. She is going to have lunch with her cousin, best friend, and partner in all life’s crimes, Carmie! Carmie was the favorite of the family. At least Jackie’s family. Unlike Jackie, jack of all trades, successful at none, Carmie was always focused. Worked her way through school, became a successful attorney, when depressed, shop til’ you drop kind of gal. She was very close to Jackie’s parents For her mom and Jackie’s mom were sisters and their dads were brothers and Godparents to the girls. Yes, Uncle Elio, Aunt Toni, John, and Palma Fiori were two brothers who married two sisters . . . that made them sisters.

Lunch

Jackie walks in to Frankie G’s, a favorite local ristorante. She sees that Carmie hasn’t arrived, sits at the bar, and Richie the bar­tender pours her a glass of a new pinot grigio. After she allows Richie the usual amount of time to hit on her, she gives him his kiss, grabs her glass, and bops into the kitchen. That’s her favorite place in the whole world. Frankie was a great chef, but sometimes he’d have an off day, and Jackie would always feel the need to make sure that he knew that she knew. Besides it was a good ex­cuse for her get close to the kitchen. The kitchen to her was just like a stage. She loved to cook. She loved to dance and she loved to sing. All at the same time. She’d bust Frankie G’s balls till he’d move out of the way and let her take over. They fought while the help laughed, especially when she’d push Frankie to his limit, cracking jokes about his cooking and just when he’s about to throw her out of his kitchen, she’d grab his big belly and rub it, giving him a big juicy row of kisses. Sometimes she’d even catch him by surprise and take a bite from his belly, leaving lipstick all over his white chef’s uniform while all the Mexican help would laugh watching the big galoot blush. This absolutely infuriated him. She’d say, “You know how much I love you, Frankie? Don’t you?” Of course, he would melt, but threatened to call her mama if she did it again. She was only 33, you know.

After a while, Frankie G dragged her out of his kitchen and sat her down at the bar next to Carmie who just arrived and poured them both a glass of vino. He gave Carmie a hug and said, “Carm, you ina charge of theeza paina ina the ass. Keepa her outta my keetchen!” After Jackie hugs Carmie, who returned her affections haphazardly, Carmies says, “Why must you torture him all the time?”

“Cause I know how much he loves it.”

“Yeah, but it’s lunchtime, for Christ’s sake. It’s too busy for you to be fuck’n around back there! Ya drive everyone nuts, Jack.”

“What the hell is bug’n you?”

Carmie looks at Richie the bartender and says, “Rich wanna close us out? We’re gonna grab a table.”

Jackie ordered her favorite; stuffed eggplant. Carmie ordered a meatball sandwich. While waiting for their order they made small talk with locals and Jackie noticed Carmie acting a little edgy. Es­pecially when their lunch arrived, Carmie picked up her sandwich and just as she attempted a bite, Jackie said, “Aren’t ya gonna put some giardiniera peppers on that?” Well . . . . . . big mistake. big mistake! Carmie tore into her.

“Do you ever think that if you concentrated on yourself a little more instead of telling Frankie how to cook and me and everyone else how to eat that you could be successful at something?” I mean just one time, Jack, one time I would like to eat without being told how to eat. Maybe I’m not in the mood for fucking peppers? Did that ever cross your mind? That today I’m not-in-the-mood?”

Jackie sat back in her chair and said, “Low blow that one was! What did I do to deserve that?” Carmie put down her sandwich.

“Sorry, I’m not in the mood for your antics today. We shoulda met outta the neighborhood. It’s too noisy here.” Just then Jackie remembered the uneasy message earlier on her answering ma­chine and suddenly realized that Carmie needed to talk about something serious.

“Sorry Carm, what’s up?” Carmie begins to squirm in her seat a little and takes a deep breath then a sip of wine. “Come on Carm. What’s the matter. You keep switching your fricking cheeks. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sick.”

“Sick?” Jackie immediately jumps up to go to the kitchen.

“Jack, where are you going?”

“In the kitchen to get some Brioske from Frankie. I think you drank your wine too fast. I really don’t like this new brand of grigio that Richie poured. Too acidic.”

“Jackie sit!”

“No, it’ll only take a minute.”

“Jackie listen to me! Sit down! I’m sick. Really sick.” Jackie sits.

“Whadya mean? What’s wrong?”

“Just came back from the doctor. Six months maybe a year.” Jackie sits back in her chair, and squints her eyes as if she needs to see what she what’s she’s hearing.

“What — is — wrong  — with — you?

“Cancer.” Jackie slowly picked up her glass of wine and stared at Carmie, notices her glass was empty and called over to their waiter, Vincenzo to bring more wine.

“And don’t give me that new shit Richie poured. It’s eating the lining of my stomach!” Carmie interrupts, “Another glass of wine is not going to help me or you.” Jackie then snaps back her posture holding her hands up, palms facing out as if a gun was pointed at her and barks, “Don’t tell me what to do right now, ok?” Carmie backs off.

“Sorry! Go ahead order whatever you want.”

There was silence while waiting for Vincenzo to serve up the wine. Then Carmie said, “Are you alright?” Jackie couldn’t re­spond. For she kept swallowing the tightness in her throat and continued to press her lips tightly together in order to keep her dry face.

“So how many doctors have you seen?’

“Enough.”

“Oh! Enough! What the fuck kinda answer is that? What the hell does ‘enough’ mean?”

“Jackie, you’re not listening to me! This is not about you!” Jackie interrupts in a shout, “it is about me! you have cancer, for chrissakes!” Carmie stands and screams, “i know i have cancer!” Vincenzo arrives with the wine and gin­gerly pours it in the glasses and splits. He’s used to the Jackie/Carmie “one too many wine” arguments.

“Ok I’m sorry, Carm. I’m really, really sorry. I’m also shocked, scared, and yes, selfish. . . . Cause it is about me.” She pauses tim­idly, “At least it feels like it. What can I do?”

“For who? You or me?” Jackie breaths in deeply and exhales, “For you, Carm.”

Carmie then repositions herself in her seat and says, “I do need your help!”

Once again that word “need” which is usually very foreign to Jackie coming from Carmie, except when it’s secret time.

“Not this time? No way! Not this time Carm.” You can’t be se­rious!

“Never have I been more serious about anything in my life! This is my last wish! Except this time, don’t fuck up like you did 15 years ago?”

Jackie, exasperated, however watching her temper, cognizant of the fact that she is dealing with a dying women, asks, “Has it occurred to you that keeping this from your parents could hurt them more than help them? That even though you think your pro­tecting them, that you are denying them something extremely im­portant?”

“What? The pain, the worry? They don’t need it and aren’t strong enough.”

Jackie is really containing herself at this point, however she knows how the family reacts to sickness; the long vigils that are held at one’s death bed in the hospital.

Jackie cared for her ex-husband’s mother who had cancer dur­ing their marriage and read a lot of books on the dying. She re­membered one that has a section about the reason most people die after most everyone leaves the room, is that the soul really wants to leave, but with dignity! So the sick will say when they’re ready to their grievers, “Go eat” or “Go get some sleep.” Then they die. And you could bet at a certain point of the vigil someone would go into a mea culpa plea, screaming the good’ol beg for forgive­ness to the sick one. If you’re a dying Fiori ready to “go through the door,” you have to look forward to about thirty visitors clog­ging the room and at least one family member doin a wail of “Oh God, take me instead!” Before ya know it, Jackie, her sibs and cousins are picking people off the floor until the once compassion­ate nurses now losing their patience and their patient, have had it with the guinea dramatics and take on the “Ralph Cramden” per­sona with one clean sweep of the arm and the pointed finger, “Ok! Out! everybody out!”

“Ya know Carm, your parents will hate me for the rest of their lives for this one.”

“They’ll understand.”

“They’ll understand that their niece, goddaughter is a fucking asshole for not allowing them their last days with you! They need to know!” She calms down, “bbbut you don’t see that do you?”

“Are you going to do this for me or not?”

“Do you remember the hepatitis caper at the University of Illi­nois years ago?” Jackie asked.

“I remember how you fucked it up. You went and told your mommy!”

“Cute, that’s real cute Carm. And my mommy kicked my ass for the three-hour ride back to Chicago for keeping your illness a secret! But you wouldn’t know that cause you were too busy being a yellow faced Joan of Arc. Ya know what this is about don’t ya Carm? This is about you and your dad. The son he never had is my brother Johnny, so you think you’re gonna keep your illness a secret to show what a strong female you can be . . . the next best thing. And what kills me is that you’re competing for your pop’s love with an idiot! My brother is an idiot! Your pop, God love em, is a dago who never ‘got it.’ When ya gonna give that shit up? You’re a fuck’n attorney for Christ’s sake! You don’t need his acceptance!”

“Shut up! I’m sick for Christsakes! I have cancer! Don’t you give a shit?” Fumbling in her purse to grab a tissue for her face, suddenly Jackie realizes that they had too much to drink. She grabs Carmie and brings her into the bathroom.

“Sorry Carm. I think we drank too much.”

“Don’t ever talk bad about my father! Not ever! How dare you! He’s your goddamn godfather. What’s wrong with you? No re­spect. No fucking respect! That’s your problem, Jack. You never had it, and you never will!” Jackie wanted to defend herself, but she knew she was as drunk as Carmie, and had the sense to back off. Just then Frankie G stuck is head in the bathroom and asked if they were alright.

“You knowa you girlsa do ateez everytima you a drink a da buca.”

“No lectures Frankie. Could we have some privacy? We’ll be right out. Have Vincenzo bring us some coffee. Please?”

“God, Carm . . . I’m so sorry. I love and respect your pop as much as mine. Ya gotta know that I’m not blaming your father for anything! It’s not his fault. Look at grampa. Jeez! Look how he treated us girls. He hosed us down like dogs for playing in the yard, for chrissakes! While my brothers could piss on his precious tomatoes and he’d slip them a buck! Look at the scene when Mi­chael Corleone found out the baby was a boy! It’s the Sicilian cul­ture and were recipients of that whole mess!” Making a big blow into her wad of tissue, Carmie says, “Since when are you sensitive to culture?” Jackie once again snatched her tongue. “Let’s go get some coffee, babe.”

Prepping Dinner

The next evening both families were to have dinner together. Everyone including Jackie’s sibs, Johnny, Frankie, and Gina, ex­cept for Carmie had arrived. All seated in the kitchen at the long table loaded with an array of all the antipasti trimmings. The grilled eggplant, roasted red pepper platter was dotted with the kalamata olives. That was Jackie’s specialty. Those dishes made Jackie some decent money during her time in the desert area. Her mother made the sugo and Aunt Toni made the “Sfinci.” Sfinci was a wonderful little desert made of fried dough, dusted lightly with powdered sugar. Jackie, who for some reason has been inves­tigating her “Sicilianess,” lately explained to her mother and aunt that the word “sfinci” was derived from the Arabic word “sfang” meaning “fried pastry.” She also explained that today this same pastry is made in Tunisia and Algeria. Palma and Toni looked cu­riously at each other pondering the reason for the newfound in­formation regarding heritage Jackie has been furnishing them lately. What did go on in that desert?

When Carmie arrived, Jackie poured her a glass of red wine and took her into the living room, “just for a minute,” she told the family.

“I’ve got a great idea Carm!” Aunt Toni sticks her head through the door and interrupts. “You two gossiping again? You better get in here and eat. Jackie, your brother’s eating all the sa­lami!” That was always the ploy to get Jackie and Carmie to join the rest.

“Tell him to come up for air, Aunti, we’ll be in in a minute.” She turns to Carmie, “So I’ve got this idea. . . .”

“Ya know Jack, it sure would be nice to see you and Johnny get along before I die.” Jackie grabs Carmie’s shoulders and says, “Hey, don’t talk like that. Maybe you’ve got your shit together on this, but I don’t! Not yet.”

“Look cuz, you’d better get your shit together fast! This is really happening, Jack. Soon I’ll be asking you to help me with funeral arrangements.”

‘When ya gonna tell them?”

“When I think they’re ready.” Jackie embraces Carmie. “Ok, I’m with you.”

Jackie then begins to pace. “Ok I’ve been thinking.”

“I hate when you start thinking. It usually leads to something very dangerous. Let’s eat!”

“Give me a minute. . . . If you’re gonna leave, why not leave with a bang? Let’s go see Giulia!” Carmie grimaces, then Jackie jumps in. “C’mon! You’ve never been to the old country!

The air fare will be my treat!”

“Your treat? Where are you gonna get that kind of money?”

“Anthony and I sold a bunch of studio gear from the divorce.” Anthony was Jackie’s ex. They had a recording studio together.

“Look Carm, you’ve popped so many times for me, let me do this for you, please!”

“But. . . .”

“No buts! C’mon. . . . I’ve wanted for so long to take you to meet the family. We’ll take the little shit too.” The “little shit” was Jackie’s youngest sib, Gina. There were 10 years between them and always a little jealousy cause Gina wanted to be as close to Jackie as Carmie. She never understood that she was even closer, but in a different way.

“If we don’t her whining will be a fate worse than death. Man­giamo! Let’s eat!” says Carmie as she embraces Jackie then they slip into the kitchen to join the others.

Table Talk

Uncle Elio begins to discuss world problems and as usual there was always a racial tone. He was sort of an Italian version of Archie Bunker. The Irish were always micks, Germans krauts, Greeks greek bastards, and of course the “n” word was always active.

“Did you read the story today about the niggers who killed the white guy?”

“Uncle Elio, before we start attacking the African Americans could we . . .” Johnny interrupts, “Don’t be correcting Uncle Elio!”

“I’m not correcting Uncle Elio. I simply choose to use the term ‘Afro-Americans.’ You don’t like to be called wop do you?”

“Don’t get smart with me Jack. You know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t give a shit what you call ’em! A nigger is a nigger. A mick is a mick. A kraut is a kraut. Now the only mistake that the krauts made is that they didn’t kill all the Jews. Now our only hope is that the Jews get on a boat to Africa and then the niggers will follow.” Here is a fumbling attempt to end a Jackie/Johnny argument by Uncle Elio.

“Got that right Uncle Elio,” says Johnny with the look of pleas­ant confirmation. Carmie rolling her eyes, desperately wants to end this conversation says, “Thanks pop, for sharing that with all of us. Jackie and I have announcement.” She nods to Jackie, as if to say, “Take it from here.”

“We’re going to see Giulia for Easter!” Now Palma, shocked by this news, immediately turns to her sister’s distressed face, appar­ently expecting that kind of response. Then Gina glares at Jackie, clearly pissed and hurt until Jackie glares back with, “How ‘bout it, Gina? Wanna join us?” Gina, bugged eyed, jumps out of her chair, and runs over to her sister and gives her a big hug and kisses her all over her face.

“I love you. I love you. Gotta go now!” Gina flies through the swinging kitchen doors. “Where do you think you’re going, Missy? You haven’t finished eating!” Palma rings out. Jackie jumps in with, “All together now. She’s going shopping to buy a few things to bring the men to their knees! Horniest Harriet’s back on the scene!” Palma shakes her head. “Where did I go wrong with that girl!” “Aunt Palma, you’ve done nothing wrong. She just came off a rough divorce. Gina just likes to talk about it more than she really does it. Gina’s a good girl, Aunti. She just needs some cunto love.”

“Yeah about 24 hours a day!” says Johnny .

“Hey, John, could ya just give her a break?” Jackie pleads.

“For Christ’s sake, when is she gonna grow up?”

“Ya mean like you?”

“C’mon not at the dinner table! Let’s talk about something else.” Palma sees that her husband John Sr. is getting irritated with the bickering. Aunti Toni apprehensively asks Jackie, “So Jack, what’s this trip all about? I don’t know if I want my Carmie to take this trip, she hasn’t been feeling good lately, have you, Carm?”

“I’m all right, Mom.” Carmie says glaring at Jackie, confirming their pact “not to tell.”

“I gotta letter from Giulia last week. Some months ago there was a feminist demonstration against sexual violence in Rome. Ya know if a man wants a woman, he can rape her and the family forces her to marry him . . . not to mention a woman cannot prose­cute hubby for violence in the home. Actually the Italian feminists have taken a stand against all violence. They feel that all things are created equal; you, me, and that blade of grass. The Sicilian feminists see it as a rebellion against militarism, racism, clerical­ism, hierarchy, and exploitation. She sent me this.” Jackie hands an invitation to Carmie who has continued to glare at Jackie this time realizing her mischievous cuz’s got something up her sleeve. She takes in a breath and reads it aloud. “Today is but the beginning of a long struggle that will bring our liberation.” Carmie stops. “Jackie why are we doing this?”

“Keep reading,” Jackie snaps. Carmie continues. “Women, like all oppressed peoples, like the slaves, like black people today are in revolt. It is a revolt without bloodshed and without death because we are life.”

“There is a nuclear missile plant in Comiso, Sicily that women all over the world will be attending on International Women’s Day, March 8.”

“Once again,” Carmie asks, “Why are we doing this?” Johnny answers. “Cause Jackie wants to show all the guinea broads what happens when a big tough Americani feminist comes in and takes over!”

“Ok!” Jackie hesitates nervously clearing her throat. “I’m writing a script. Sort of a docudrama at this point. This trip will be the end of my research.”

“Oh greaaat,” Johnny shouts. “Do you think you’ll ever get a real job, like maybe before your change of life? You went to Cali­fornia for 2 years to heal from your divorce working stupid jobs and you come back with this shit?”

“Gee thanks for all the support.”

“Johnny be nice . . . please,” begs Aunt Toni and Palma.

“This is going to be just another bullshit ‘I am an arteest’ project. Her ex-husband smartened up. He finally realized that he’s not good enough to ‘make it.’ It’s her turn now.”

“You have no right to say that about Anthony! You know noth­ing about the music business!”

“Would ya let her talk,” says Frankie. Frankie has always been the quiet little brother. Johnny’s twin, visuals only, is always un­der pressure to agree with his brother in these scenarios. So he chooses to stay quiet so as not to get in the middle. He loves Jackie and has always been supportive of her in silence. This is some­thing Jackie has always been aware of.

“Well it’s kinda complicated and I’m not sure where it’s going yet. The first time I visited Sicily I was overwhelmed by the expe­rience of meeting our families, seeing how our grandparents grew up, realizing that we came from an island and all. My most impor­tant observation was that I realized one thing that was missing in our upbringing. Mom’s side. I realized that we were raised on the patriarchal side of the family. Your families,” she nods over to her dad and Uncle Elio “made the move and Mom and Aunt Toni’s family stayed there. However, I didn’t get the inspiration to work this project until my second visit. I had more time to observe the culture, especially the role of women. Anyway, since then, I have this feeling that I’ve been searching for something and that after spending some time alone in the desert reading everything I could get my hands on, like multicultural historians, archeologists and geneticist findings, feminist workshops, I might be closer than ever in finally finding my mission in life.”

“Gee, I wonder if it would be within the realm of your imagina­tion that what you should be searching for is a decent job that you won’t pull out of every couple years, princess.” Jackie, determined not to address the left handed remark in order to keep everyone’s interest in this new project instead of going into a rage, says, “No it’s Black Madonnas.”

Carmie says, “ Black Madonnas? Hmmm, I’ve seen pictures in college, but I can’t remember too much.”

“What the hell is a Black Madonna, a black virgin Mary?” Elio asks.

“Yes.”

“So the Madonna is a nigger?” Elio is getting pissed.

“Uncle Elio, I’m saying that that before there was Mary, Mother of Christ, there were what they call ‘La dea madre,’ the dark mother. They are venerated versions of the great Goddesses, pri­mordial prechristian divinities. To cut to the chase, we have not been allowed to know our female history and these Madonnas are clues to piecing together our history NOT included in the written word.”

Frankie, mesmerized asks, “Jackie is that for real?”

“It’s entirely possible we will live to see the book of Genesis pulled and disposed of.”

Johnny has been quiet too long.

“Leave it to my sister to turn the Madonna into a nigger, and to call the first historian a liar and a male chauvinist pig!” She ig­nores Johnny no matter what and continues to communicate her thoughts. For the one project she created without Anthony, will lose the attention of the family.

“Anyway I’ve got most of the research out of the way. What’s left is the pilgrimage. There is a women’s group called demetra, named after the country’s goddess of agriculture, that is organiz­ing the tour to visit these Black Madonnas and goddess temples in Africa, Malta, and Sicily and end up in Comiso, Sicily for the march. You see these Black Madonnas seem to be placed on pre­historic sites of the Goddess where uprisings took place either on or near a Goddess shrine. They replaced the goddesses. Actually, Mary Mother of Christ is our most modern goddess . . . and she’s 2000 years old!”

“Gee that so interesting!” Just then Jackie realized how won­derful and important it would be to take their moms with them. Well, with Carmie’s situation and all. What a last great memory for her Aunt to be with her daughter! It would also take Jackie off the hook about not revealing Carmie’s illness.

“Gee Mom, why don’t you two join us? The family would love to meet you!” Carmie agreed.

“Too far.” Aunti said. “I agree,” chimed Palma. “Ma never had anything good to say about the old country.

“That’s cause she lived there. It’s a place where women are in­visible. For us it will be a wonderful experience but we won’t have to live there! I’ve been there twice and both times they beg to see you! I wish you two would change your minds, cause I could really use your help!”

“What help,” all the women ask.

“Well, Giulia wants to marry her childhood sweetheart that she grew up with in London. You remember I told you she and her brothers were born and raised there. Many Italians go there for work. Her family returned to Sicily only 10 years ago. Anyway, Tom, her fiance, has lined up a teaching job interview for her and they won’t let her return. She’s the only one in the family with a higher education, top student, and they won’t let her use it. They want her to marry some creep from town. I know you and Aunti Toni could change their minds.”

At this point Jackie’s dad, John Sr. decides to participate after remaining silent during his dinner. “Forget about it! Your mother never had any desire to go and you have no right to make her make such a big sacrifice for people she doesn’t even know.”

“Let Mom answer.” Jackie saw the spark in her mother’s eye, recognized her surprising pause and reflection upon something that she might actually take a selfish moment with, and inter­jected, “Dad, let Mom answer!”

“Jackie, I’ve been sitting here quietly listening to your very busy agenda, and I think it will be a fun and educational trip for you and the girls. But concerning your mother’s family I think you should mind your own business.”

“My family is my business! I found the missing part of my past . . . Mom’s past! Mom would not sleep at night if she knew a member of her family was going to be forced to marry some creep!”

“An arranged marriage in this day and age?’’ Her mother in­quires.

“Yeah mom, Fofo, your cousin, the musician, wrote that the guy has this ‘Mr Wonderful’ act around the family, but he’s really a piece of shit.” Her father interrupts irritably.

“I don’t care what the problem is, your mother is not going. Case is closed!”

“It may not be a good idea for even Carmie to go. You know Carm hasn’t been feeling well. By the way, you never told me what the doctor had to say,” Aunt Toni was very concerned.

“Nerves ma, just nerves,” Carmie quickly responds.

Jackie continues. “It’s Mom’s decision. You just don’t want her to leave for your own selfish reasons. We can cook meals and freeze them for you. Don’t forget. They have these places called restaurants. I bet I can get Frankie G to sneak you in the back door early mornings to make your fricking cream of wheat for break­fast!”

Now Aunt Toni thinks that she can divert attention, sweet thing that she is, desperately tries to calm things down. “Well Carm, participating in a demonstration may not be nonviolent, and what will that do for your nerves?”

“Especially if Jackie is there,” Johnny interjects. “She can’t even get along with a couple of guys in the weight room!”

“What!” Jackie quickly forgets her project she is trying to share with the family.

Johnny stands and slaps his napkin down on the plate and shouts, “You know exactly what I mean. Yesterday you made a goof of yourself and me. Stupid bitch!” Palma watches her hus­band’s face and is forced to intervene at this point. “Watch your mouth, Johnny!”

Jackie jumps out of her seat and scoots over to Johnny. “You weren’t even there! That piece of shit called me filthy names!”

“That’s not the story I heard!”

“Basta! Enough!” shouts John Sr. This is the one thing that John cannot tolerate. Bickering at the dinner table. The dinner table is sacred to him, but it’s a little late for table salvation at the moment. Jackie and Johnny are now toe to toe.

“Do you think I would lie about something like this? Do you? Answer me!” demands Jackie. Johnny’s silent.

“You know what he’s like, John, I’ve warned him a thousand times. You’re suppose to be sticking up for me!” I’m you sister! Her screams turns to tears streaming down her face. She then turns to Uncle Elio and grabs Aunt Toni and says, “she’s your wife!” points to Carmie, continues to scold Elio, “she’s your daughter! You’re suppose to be proud of her!!!!

John Sr. yells at the top of his voice, “enough! that’s enough! A person can take only so much a dis shit!” But Jackie is enraged and cannot stop. She grabs her mother as if she owned her and sobbed, “she’s my mother!”

She began to choke from mucousal drainage. Her short breaths mixed with hiccups made her choke even more but she still wasn’t through with them. They now began to worry cause she switched from anger to lonely despair, scanning each of them, even Carmie as though they were breaking her heart and continued to squeeze out in the lowest range of her now very slow breathy voice, “Why doesn’t anyone care about the women in this family?”

Bedtime

That night lying in bed, afraid to sleep only to be awakened by her “night intruder,” how she wished she could be back in the de­sert at the foot of the “gramma mountain.” She’s now convinced that she’ll be returning to her. For it is she, the great mother that will ultimately shoo him away!