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Sixteen
Elected Silence, sing to me
And beat upon my whorlèd ear,
Pipe me to pastures still and be
The music that I care to hear.
—Gerard Manley Hopkins,
from “The Habit of Perfection”
“Come out with us tonight, pussycat. That’ll wipe that frown off your face.”
Sabina just stared at Mary, too numb to even think up a refusal. She had walked until her feet hurt, not even noticing until she’d been wandering Chicago for an hour that she had somehow managed to escape her guards when she left Papa’s office. She had walked, and she had seethed, and she had prayed every prayer she knew and a few she made up on the spot. She had wrestled and cursed and then, as the sun sank low in the sky, finally headed back to Taylor Street.
But she still couldn’t go home. So she had come here instead, hoping Isadora would have something to say to make it all right. But Mary had opened the door and dragged her into her room. Mary had chattered about drop-waists and hemlines and whatever was the cat’s meow today while Sabina stood there in the center of the room, her hands hanging at her sides and her gaze not quite able to focus on her friend.
She looked at her now and barely even recognized her. What happened to the Mary who wore her hair in two braids and was the best hop-scotcher in Little Italy? What happened to the girl whose biggest rebellion was eating a gelato an hour before dinner? What happened to the innocence they’d once shared?
Mary heaved a sigh and shook her head. “Enzo’s the one doing this to you. You need to shake free of him. Get back to living. You look like a walking corpse.”
She winced at the word. Murder. Murderer.
Papa.
She forced a swallow. “It isn’t Enzo.”
“Yeah. It is.” Standing on one foot, Mary pulled a high heel onto the other, hopping to keep her balance. “You know what, Bina? I’ll prove it to you eventually. In the meantime, let Izzy bore you to sleep and help yourself to a calzone, if you’re hungry. Every nosy neighbor in Little Italy has been coming by with food this week for some reason.”
It almost, almost made her smile. On any other day, it would have. Today, all she could manage was to trail Mary out into the main room and stand there like a mannequin as she let herself out without so much as a goodbye for her sister.
The door to the other bedroom was open. Isadora sat in the chair by the bed, jerking to attention when the door slammed.
She spotted Sabina, smiled, and wandered out. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
She looked a little better today, the shadows under her eyes not so dark. Sabina mustered a smile. “How’s your mother?”
Isadora wrapped her arms around herself like it was winter instead of the first of July. “I don’t know. She barely wakes up anymore. But the neighbors have arranged a rotation for sitting with her. A few hours in the morning, a few hours in the afternoon. I never dare to go far, but at least I can sleep a little, here and there.”
Not knowing what else to do, Sabina reached out and squeezed her elbow.
Izzy sighed. “I know you’re the one who gave them that idea, let everyone know how bad Mama had gotten. Thank you. I just…couldn’t.”
“I know. And you don’t have to thank me.” She glanced at the door behind her. “Has Mary even gone in there?”
Her friend shook her head. “Not in weeks. She won’t even talk about her. If I say anything, she just…leaves.” Her shoulders sagged, but then she blinked and pulled them up again. “You look out of sorts. Are you all right? Did something else happen with Enzo?”
Sabina opened her mouth, but then she just smiled and shook her head. “No. Everything’s fine with Enzo.” How could she burden poor Izzy with her drama with Papa? She had too much on her plate with her own parents, with Mary, with everything. “I just wanted to check on you.” She suspected Father Russo wouldn’t even make her say an extra Hail Mary for that lie.
Isadora leaned over to wrap her in a tight hug. “You’re a good friend, Bina. Thank you. For everything.”
“Of course.” When she pulled away, she took a step toward the door. “If you need anything—anything at all—please let me know. Okay?”
Isadora nodded, wrapped her arms around herself again, and turned back to her mother’s room. “Just…would you pray she goes quietly? She’s suffered so long.”
Sabina nodded too and let herself out of the apartment before she gave in to tears in front of her friend. Suffered. The word echoed in her head, her own voice shooting it at her father like a projectile.
