MR. MICALLIZI'S HEART
By Barbara Kent
(c) Barbara Kent, 1993
I never liked my cousin Gina. Oh, I suppose it wasn't all her fault--she invaded my home when she was three and her parents got divorced. My mother, who was pregnant at the time, baby-sat her while my Aunt Rose went to work. I was in school all day, but after school it was "Maryann! Find some game for Gina to play! Buy Gina an ice-cream cone!" Or, "Maryann! Play dress-up with Gina!" or, "Maryann! Take Gina downstairs!" A lot of the time, I was able to get out of doing whatever it was because I made sure I had plans to do homework over someone's house, or I slipped out before Mom realized I was gone.For some reason, Gina loved me anyway, and followed me around and tried to give me candy she'd hoarded after lunch, or little wet kisses on my arm, which was as close to my face as she could reach. I didn't want either one from her, because she was always looking at me in that creepy way with her big, black eyes. Even when I was downstairs in the street playing iron-tag or ringaleevio, I could feel her looking at me from the bedroom window, upstairs. If I absolutely had to take her out, none of my friends wanted to play with her because they didn't like her either. Once we were playing ringaleevio and nobody bothered to find her. When it was her turn to be it, everybody laughed because she couldn't count and we all ran around the corner and across the street and played another game there. I forgot all about her and when we came back around dinner time Gina was sitting there all alone on the front stoop. I got scared--suppose my father came home and found her sitting there all alone, and my mother found out? So I squeezed her pudgy little arm and hissed "Don't you ever tell my mother you were sitting here alone! You hear me?" She nodded and just looked at me, big wet eyes. To be sure, I put my other hand over her mouth and growled "I forbid you to move from your chair tonight at dinner. I forbid you to speak to anyone." She nodded again. I often immobilized her with fear and threats. My mother didn't have the strength to amuse Gina all day because the baby was nearly due, so she would tell me to play a game with Gina in my room while she cleaned. Once we were alone, I'd tell her that I was magic and that she had to sit on her hands and not move or speak. "If you dare to move," I would whisper, ". . .your mother and father will die!" Then I would add ". . .and my mother and father and I will die too and you'll be all alone!" She'd get all teary and her bottom lip would quiver and she'd nod and sit on her hands and not move until I came back and broke the spell with a kiss. That kiss made everything better. When Mom noticed she would ask, "Maryann! Where are you going? You're supposed to be playing with Gina!" I'd shoot back, "We are playing Ma! Gina likes this game, don't you, Gina?" Forbidden to speak, Gina would nod quickly, and I'd skip out to play.
Things change though. I was home from school, sick one day, when my aunt brought Gina over. She was red-eyed and fidgety. Mom waddled over to her with soothing coos. Aunt Rose was in a hurry and gushed, "I don't know what's wrong with her today!" Her penciled eyebrows arched dramatically and her apple-red mouth tugged down in a frown. "She woke up crying and she wouldn't even eat breakfast. . ." My mother tsk-tsked. Rose was my favorite aunt, and I felt badly for her that she had such a rotten kid. She was fiddling with the barrette in Gina's silky-dark hair. "Well, she's probably sick, Rose," Mom said. Aunt Rose threw her hands up and snapped back, "Damned if I know! I can't get a word out of her..." She smiled sweetly at mom as she rushed out the door. "Thanks ever so much Franny. Good luck!" The door banged behind her.
Gina was nestled in the crook of my mom's arm, just sort of sobbing quietly. "What's wrong Gina?" Mom prodded, "tell Aunt Franny what's wrong, honey." Gina hiccuped and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I had a bad, bad dream," she whispered darkly, "...that the baby died." And she started crying again. Mom's face paled, and she turned Gina so that she faced her squarely, and with both hands on her shoulders asked "What baby Gina? What baby died?" Gina's face was red and wet, and her sobs slipped out in little bubbles. She tried to lean on my mother, but Mom held her erect and continued, "What baby, Gina?" Gina pointed to my Mom, her lips quivering and sobbed "That baby, the boy baby in your belly." Mom recoiled from Gina for an instant, then she grabbed her hands and said "No, that's not so Gina, it was only a very bad dream." Then she put Gina's hand on her belly to feel the baby move, and I got the chills and started to sincerely hate Gina.
Late that night, long after Gina had gone home, Mom went into labor. My father was very excited and sent me to the neighbor next door. Gina of course, couldn't come the next day and the neighbor woke me up by sitting on the edge of the bed. "Maryann," she whispered, "your mom is OK, honey." "What kind of baby is it?" I asked. "Your dad will call later, and you can talk to him." I remembered Ginas dream and pressed the old lady. "Is it a boy?" She looked away from me and stood up. "You may as well go to school. Nothing you can do here anyway." I found out that afternoon that it was a boy, and that he died. I blamed Gina.
Mom was in the hospital a long time, and when she came home, daddy said she was very frail and needed time to recuperate. Gina was going to start school and she couldn't go in our district so Aunt Rose arranged for her to stay with their other sister, Aunt Mary, who had five boys. I didn't see very much of Gina anymore. Sometimes we were together, under the same roof, like at Thanksgiving or Christmas, but I was able to avoid her because I was one of the four oldest cousins and she was one of the youngest ones.
I guess I was fourteen and Gina was about eight when Aunt Anne got married. What a glorious party it was, too! I wore a black and white striped organdy dress with a red satin sash. The bride and groom looked so romantic and elegant that I wished it were me getting married. My cousin Michael and I were dancing and running around, drinking discarded drinks when no-one was looking. One of the littler kids had a paper doily from the cookie try on her head and a little bouquet of Jordan almonds that she had collected from all the place settings and was pretending that she was a bride too. I noticed Gina sitting in a corner by herself, quiet as usual. Next to her was an empty chair and on the floor next to the chair was what looked to be a big napkin tied into a bundle. There was something in her lap too, but I couldn't see what it was. I felt a surge of meanness, and I grabbed Michael by the sleeve of his new jacket. "C'mon Mickey, let's play a trick on Gina." He tried to pull the sleeve out of my grip. "No," he said, "I'd rather play a trick on Anthony." I would not be satisfied with Anthony. "No, it has to be Gina" I said, "I want to tease Gina." Michael pulled loose. "You go ahead, but not me. I don't mess with Gina." My eyes closed in on him, "What are you afraid of?" I taunted him "Oh, big-shot Eagle Scout, you're six years older than her! That should be chicken scout!" I started to laugh at my own joke, but Michael just squinted at me and stuck out his jaw. "Yeah. I don't mess with Gina." And he turned his back on me.
Disgusted with him, I stormed off, determined to have fun with Gina myself. When I got there though, Gina was busy. Uncle Louis was sitting next to her nodding, yes, yes, yes. When she finished saying whatever it was she was saying, Uncle Louis flushed all red and looked quite pleased with himself. He reached into his pocket and pulled out green, folding money and dropped it into her lap. A dollar! Or maybe five dollars! All I ever got from my uncles were quarters. This injustice enflamed me, and I just itched to reach her, but I was too slow! To my amazement, Rosemarie, the oldest and prettiest of the cousins quickly slipped into the chair the moment Uncle Louis got up. Just then the band started playing and everybody got up to dance so I couldn't see what was happening. I debated about scooting under the dais on my knees, then considered what that would do to my new dress and stockings. I decided to wait and dropped into the nearest chair, hoping to see something between the dancers. The band struck up another song though, and the floor became more crowded. I got up and moved behind the dancers and crouched to my knees behind the dais. My curiosity was stronger than my vanity so I crawled along the slippery floor until I had an unobstructed view of Gina and Rosemarie. I would be embarrassed to death if anyone saw me, fourteen years old, crawling around the floor like a kid, but once I was there I couldn't go anywhere but straight ahead, or Rosemarie would be sure to see me. I couldn't hear what they were saying because the music was so loud, but then I heard Rosemarie say "Well, how can you be sure?" Gina just shrugged her shoulders and did not argue. Rosemarie must not have been happy with what Gina said because she gave her a sour look and tossed a tiny pastry into Gina's lap and stalked off. I popped my head up to get a closer look at her lap and saw that it was indeed a huge napkin full of money, candy and pastries! I realized then that people must have been coming to her all night. Now that Rosemarie was gone, I could jump up without being seen by anyone but Gina, so I did. She just looked at me without saying anything, and I ran off to get Michael.
He was in the lounge outside, playing and fighting with his younger brothers. I pulled him out of the fray and Anthony the obnok began singing "Maryann loves Michael, Maryann loves Michael!" I ignored the little brat and pushed Michael behind a door. "What's going on with Gina?" I asked. He averted my eyes, "I dunno," he mumbled. "Listen dummy, she's sitting there with a load of loot on her lap, and another whole bundle of it on the floor." He was watching his brothers. "Yeah, I know." "Well, how come?" I figured that he knew what was going on, because Gina had been staying at his house since mom stopped baby-sitting for her. "Gina's kind of different than us, you know?" "I know that, dummy! I wanna know why your father and Rosemarie gave her stuff!" Michael squirmed. "She told them things." He was totally exasperating. "What kinds of things dummy?" I appealed to what I knew to be his fine sense of greed. "Don't you want to get stuff too?" He looked at me in horror--"Oh no. No, I don't want stuff and I don't want to be like Gina either. She sees all sorts of terrible things." I chilled. Like when the baby died, I thought. I let him go and he went back to join his brothers. He glanced over his shoulder as he was retreating and said "You'd better watch it Maryann, I wouldn't mess with Gina." Maybe, but I wasn't afraid of her.
I finally caught her alone and sat in the empty chair. "Hey Gina, whatcha got there" Her dimpled hand passed, palm-up over the napkin. "Stuff, just stuff. "Stuff" indeed. She must have had five or six dollars and an incredible pile of snacks. There was even a shiny rhinestone bracelet and a little gold box that must have held real treasure. She pointed under the other chair. "There's more stuff under the chair," she said. "What're you gonna do with it all?" She shrugged, "I dunno. I'll eat some of it I guess, and Mommy'll put the money in the bank." She told me she did that at every party, and sometimes people would come to the house and ask her questions. I didn't know there was a profit in being creepy. She wasn't impressed with the loot and offered me anything I wanted. I chose the gold box but she said "No," grandpa gave it to her. I got mad, it wasn't even her birthday, but I didn't show it, and I took the rhinestone bracelet instead. It was awful pretty, and I imagined it was really diamonds. "Hey Gina," I said, "...remember all the fun we used to have?" I rushed on before she remembered. "Maybe your mom will let me take you to the Rivoli next Saturday afternoon to see the cartoon festival?" Gina's eyebrows shot up and big smile made her fat little cheeks round as Spaldings. She was so easy.
Aunt Rose said yes, so we went to the movies armed with a ten-dollar bill from Gina's stash. The movie bored me but Gina had a great time. All the bright colors on the screen danced across her face. Afterward we went to Jahn's, which is an ancient ice-cream parlor that's been around since grandpa was a kid. They had an old-fashioned nickelodeon that whirred and thumped and oom-pah-pahed all the time we were eating our ice-cream. I guess she didn't go out much, so I decided to take her to Church and then to Starr Street Park the next day. We bought hot, soft pretzels from the bakery boy, and sat in the shade of a Linden tree in the park. "So, um," licking salt off my lips, "tell me what you do, anyway." She understood instantly what I was talking about, probably had been waiting for me to approach the subject. "Oh. Well, they ask me a question, and I close my eyes, and I just sorta see the answer." "Just like that? I mean, that's all you do is close your eyes?" "Yes," "And you're always right?" "I dunno. They always come back." "And they always pay you." "Uh-huh. I think they have to."
I'd read a book on ESP in school, and I figured that's what Gina must have. Possibilities, possibilities. "Gina," I asked, "can you do anything else?" She licked the salt from her fingers. "Yesssss." "Well, what?" "I can fly," she whispered. I was disappointed. "You cannot! Nobody can FLY!" ESP I was willing to buy, but flying? Her dark eyebrows drew closer and she narrowed her vision at me. "I can too fly! I do it all the time! Every single night I do it!" "OK, so you can fly. Where do you fly to?" But she pressed her lips into a tight line. "So where do you go?" I repeated. "I wanna go home." She crossed her arms across her chest and looked somewhere out of the park. Conversation over. "So why don't you just fly home?" I taunted. Her bottom lip quivered.
I didn't see her for about two weeks after that. Then she and Aunt Rose came over for Sunday dinner. I'd had my very first date the night before with Richie Hoffer, and I was feeling very grown-up. I sat next to my aunt, hoping to absorb some of the magic of her womanhood. She was a very beautiful woman, and boasted a different date every week. Gina was restless, orbiting around me, waiting for a chance to talk. When we were helping with the dishes, Gina whispered to me "I flew last night." "Oh?" I wasn't really interested anymore. "I flew here last night." "Large deal" I mumbled. "I saw you with that blonde boy from Grattan Street." "Your mother told you." "I saw you hit him in the face." A little smile twitched her lips. I dropped the dish I was drying and it splintered into a million pieces "LIAR!" I yelled at her. Mom came over, "What's going on here" Look at what you did!" I swept it up. How I hated that child! Maybe having ESP meant that she could read my mind! What a creepy, creepy kid.
When school let out for the summer, Aunt Rose started bringing Gina around every day again. I was no longer expected to entertain her, and I had lost my desire for her stupid goodies. People came almost every day to ask her questions. Even the old ladies who sat out on the stoop all day and night. And they always brought her something. One lady, Mrs. Nagle, brought her a tiny little baby doll in a hand-crocheted christening gown. Gina nearly purred when she saw that doll, and she carried it with her every day. Morty, the man who owned the candy store on the corner brought her six polar-bear ice creams. We had to eat them fast because we didn't have a freezer, and the last two melted because we couldn't eat any more. Mostly though, they just brought cash.
I asked my mother what Gina did with all that cash--I figured she must have made about ten dollars a day--and Mom said that Aunt Rose and Gina needed all they could get 'cause life without a man was hard. It struck me as unusual that a woman as beautiful as Aunt Rose hadn't remarried yet.
One rainy morning Aunt Rose was late. When they finally arrived Gina was like a little black cloud. she looked at no-one and quietly drifted into the back room where I slept. After a while, I went in to check that she wasn't messing around with any of my records or anything. She was curled up on my bed, rocking. I drew closer and saw that her eyes were closed and her long, black lashes were clumped together with tears, but I couldn't hear her cry, she was so quiet. All of the bad feelings left me when I saw her like that. I sat down and put my hand on her damp head. "You OK Gina?" I asked. She shivered. "Why don'cha talk to me Gina? Something wrong?" She got very very still, and whispered, "Mr. Micallizzi." "Mr. Micallizzi, the landlord?" I asked. I couldn't imagine why she would mention him. Mr. Micalizzi had been Aunt Rose's landlord for the longest time. He was an old man who always had a half-scratchy beard and who stunk of "guinea-stinker" cigars. He was very rich though, and he'd been known to throw several dollar's worth of quarters out the window to the neighborhood kids when he was drunk. I didn't like him because he always tried to kiss me, and my mother would push me to him and say give the Signor a kiss, Maryann." I always managed to barely graze his bristly cheek and get away before he actually had a chance to kiss me, but other kids hadn't been so fast.
"What about Mr. Micallizzi?" I asked her, but, even before the words were out of my mouth, I knew. She stuffed her face into the pillow to muffle her cries. "He touched me! He touched me!" I felt cold and thought about his ugly yellow hands and his dirty gray moustache. "Oh, poor Gina! Poor, poor Gina!" "And he bit me!" she wailed. She turned over on her back and pointed to the front of her polo shirt and the tiny little bumps that would someday be breasts. "He bit me here, and here!" she cried. I held her in my arms and rocked her--I was crying too. "Oh Gina, we have to tell your mother!" She sobbed harder and my blouse got wet. I pulled away, "I'm going to tell my mother!" I said. "Oh, please don't," she pleaded, "Please don't tell her!" "Why not?" I knew, when something like this happened, the first thing you did was tell your mother. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "I already told my mother," she said. I felt some satisfaction, "Good, then she'll call the police." "No, she won't."
Gina told me the story, punctuated by sobs. Mr.Micallizzi had visited them this morning, because the rent was late. Aunt Rose was fixing her hair in the bathroom, and told Gina to talk to him in the kitchen 'till she came out, and Gina thought he wanted to ask her questions. She sat on his lap, and closed her eyes when she felt him bite her. She tried to scream, but he put his callused hand over her mouth and murmured, "Belliza, stay still Belliza, or something terrible will happen!" Gina became immobilized with fear. He warned her again, that if she moved or spoke, terrible things would happen to her mother. My blood ran cold. I realized he was talking about the rent, but Gina must have remembered my threats to her when she was little. Oh God! It was all my fault! When Aunt Rose came into the kitchen, Mr. Micallizzi told her that she didn't have to worry about this month's rent, and maybe they could "work something out." Then he left. When Gina told her mother what happened, Aunt Rose got very angry and yelled at her, "That's a terrible thing to say! Mr. Micallizzi is a kind, old man, and you are a filthy, evil-minded child!" Then Aunt Rose gave Gina a beating, and said she expected her to apologize to him the very next morning.
I was stunned. Disappointed in my favorite aunt, and scared that he could get away with something like that. I brushed Gina's damp hair back from her face. "Gina, what can we do?" He eye-lids were swollen and her face was flushed from crying. Her voice came out deep and strange. "I want him to die," she whispered, "I want him not to be anymore...dead like the mouse Aunt Franny killed with the broom." she searched for an image of death, but could find none but the mouse. "Well, he will die long before any of us," I told her. She shook her head violently. "No. I want to do it." The fine hairs on my back stood on end. "Don't be silly...you can't do anything like that." Her eyes sparkled and she scooted up on her knees and held her right hand out, palm up. "I'll fly to his house tonight, and I'll find him asleep," she curled her fingers as though she were squeezing a sponge, "and I'll reach into his chest and squeeze his heart until he's dead. I will just squeeze it and squeeze it!" Her voice rose and I could almost see blood dripping down her arm.
She spent all day in the back room, not even coming out for lunch. Mom figured she was coming down with the flu and let her be. When Aunt Rose came by near dinner time, she looked especially beautiful, but I was now uncomfortable in her presence. She had a date, she said, and could Gina stay with us tonight? Gina slept with me in the back room. It seemed that I watched her all night. Perhaps some little part of me wanted to believe she really could fly.
The next morning dawned a glorious, sunny day, and Gina was already up. She was nervous as a cat and so was I. At lunch time Aunt Rose called, and I heard Mom saying "Oh no, that's too bad, I'm so sorry to hear it." I looked at Gina and she was dancing around like a little demon. Mom hung up the phone and started to set the table for lunch. "Well now, Gina, " she said, "your mom will be a little late today." Gina just bounced around, grinning and happy and I felt my hackles raise. Mom prattled on, "Poor old Mr. Micallizzi died some time during the night of a heart attack and your mom has some things to settle." Gina climbed up into her chair, and asked me if I would please take her to Starr Street Park after lunch. I did not hesitate, but told her I would.