“But as I entered the kitchen, rough hands grabbed me. I struck wildly, hitting my captor, but he was too strong and finally subdued me. He wore a mask like the kind you see in a horror movie. Bright white, like a grim porcelain doll. Expressionless. He gagged me, bound my hands behind my back. Then hoisted me to my feet and carried me to the far side of the kitchen, where my mother knelt next to the counter. She was similarly bound and gagged. He set me down next to her and forced me to my knees.
“My father was there also, across from us. He wasn’t restrained in any way. A man wearing another of those horrible white masks stood next to my father, holding a gun to his head. It was so… terrifying, all of it. Finally, the man behind me spoke. I remember his words as if it happened only yesterday.”
As I speak, I’m transported to that moment in time.
I’m kneeling in my old kitchen, tied up next to my mother.
“So, Giovanni,” my captor says from behind me. “We warned you not to ply your trade in the Kalsa neighborhood. The Tunisians areourclients.”
Papa stares at him angrily. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are! You send me anonymous notes, come to me wearing masks. How am I supposed to take you seriously?”
“Do you take us seriously now?” the man behind me asks.
“Yes, yes,” Papa says. “What do you want? Tell me how much money I need to get you the fuck out of my house.”
“Money?” the man says. “Oh no, there’s been some misunderstanding. We require payment in blood.”
Up until that moment Papa had been wearing a facade of indignation and annoyance, but now he pales.
“What are you talking about?” Papa hisses. “If you touch my family, I swear to you I will hunt you down for the rest of my days.”
“But as you already mentioned,” the man behind me taunts. “And I quote, ‘you don’t even know who the fuck we are.’”
Papa swallows nervously. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever seen him afraid. “I’ll find out. I’ll go to the Tunisians, kill them all until they tell me who you are.”
“You think we’re so stupid?” the man asks. “They don’t know who we are, either. But if you touch my clients, or return to the Kalsa neighborhood, I’ll be back again. And I don’t think you want that.”
“Please,” Papa says. “I’ll pay you whatever you want.”
“You certainly will,” my captor says. “Choice. It defines our lives. You chose to ignore our warnings. So now I’ll give you yet another choice, Giovanni. A terrible one. Decide. The woman you love? Or the woman of your loins. Whom do you wish to live?”
Papa stares at him, wide-eyed. He glances at the man who holds the gun next to his head, then regards me and Mamma in turn.
“Take me,” Papa says quickly. “Not them.”
“Unacceptable,” my captor says. “Choose again.”
“I’ll give you one million Euros,” Papa says. “Five. Ten!”
“Choose,” that merciless voice says from behind me. “Or I’ll choose for you. Your wife? Or your daughter?” The tip of his gun presses into my head and I tremble, badly. I feel like I’m going to cry.
Papa looks at me, then at Mamma. From the corner of my eye, I can see Mamma shaking her head.
Finally Papa returns his gaze to me.
“I’m so sorry,” Papa tells me. “I can’t live without her.” He turns his head toward the closer man beside him and orders: “Shoot me.” Papa slides his mouth over the muzzle of the man’s pistol and reaches for the trigger.
I start violently when I hear the gunshot.
Papa is frozen in place. Is he dead?
But then something falls to the floor beside me and I start again. Mamma.
Blood pours from a wound in the back of her head and pools beneath her.
I turn my head toward the man who did this, and all I see is that pistol and the smoke coming from its muzzle. The weapon that killed my mother.
I’d scream through the gag in my mouth, but I have no voice. I can barely even see, because tears fill my vision. I’m hyperventilating through my nose.
