I count in my head. One, two, three, four—
The door creaks, a slice of light brightening the shadows in my room. “Brando? Are you awake?”
“Yeah.”
“The storm is back. I’m afraid.”
I look at it practically. The earth needs water for things to grow. We’re inside and sheltered from it. In fact, I enjoy it. The uncertainty, the sounds it makes. But Maggie Beautiful thinks it’s some kind of monster sent from her nightmares that’s going to sneak in and snatch her up. After Luca was locked up, she became scared of everything but booze and other guys.
Quiet footsteps move toward the bed. She hovers over me. I look up and she looks down.
“Do you want to play cards?”
“Cards,” I repeat, to buy time before I have to get up again.
“I’ll make us some more sweet popcorn,” she says in a voice that she thinks will entice me. Then she starts to cry, her tears colored silver by the moon.
“Yeah, Maggie Beautiful, let’s play a game of cards.”
“I’ll wait for you to get up, so we can go out together.” She sniffs. When I do, she takes my hand and holds tight. “You’re such a brave soldier.” She says something in Sicilian about me saving some compassion for her. I ignore it because I don’t like to hear the soft talk.
The lights go out and she starts to cry even harder.
“It’s all right,” I say to her. “Don’t worry. We have candles. And we don’t need popcorn. You get the cards ready. I’ll get the candles. What do you want to play? Poker?”
Eunice sometimes buys things for me to bring home, things she feels Maggie Beautiful will overlook. She sent the candles a couple of days ago to restock from the last storm we had. We survive the night, and when it’s time to leave the next morning, Maggie Beautiful is asleep on the sofa and doesn’t even notice when I leave for school.
Pnina picks me up. If it weren’t for Eunice packing me a lunch, I wouldn’t eat.
* * *
“Brando?”
My head bobbed with fatigue while my body stood strong.
“What are you talking about? School?”
It took me a moment to realize that Pnina stood next to me, a hand on my shoulder. I had been staring at the two forms in my bed.
“Sit down,” she whispered. “Come. Sit down.” She directed me toward the chair, the images flickering through my thoughts confusing then and now. Pnina hadn’t changed much over the years.
Scarlett had inherited the same perfect bone structure, the same timelessness that they all seemed to possess, along with that touch of the exotic. I thought it was from her Slavic roots.
Pnina moved me the same way she had done time and time again—walking me through clouds to class, until I was seated at my desk. She would watch me for a moment before she went to speak to the teacher. Even if I nodded off sometimes, none of my teachers ever complained or faulted me.
Taking the seat Tito had occupied earlier, she took my hand in hers, surprising me. She called for Eunice to bring us up something hot. Eunice did, with a smile on her face.
“I brought you both hot chocolate,” she said when she reached us. “Just like old times. Elliott’s favorite.”
We drank in silence. Pnina wouldn’t mention those years, there was no point, but the look in her eyes told me that she remembered too. “I have never claimed to be your mother,” she said, elegant hands circled around the cup, pointer finger tapping at the porcelain. “Or tried to take her place. However, I feel it is my place to tell you that you need sleep.”
“Sleep.” I gave her a lazy grin. “Tell me what that is and who needs it.”
“That is exactly what you used to tell me. When you were young.” She grinned, a rare response for her. “My answer has not changed. Sleep is a mythical creature that all boys need to slay.”
“I’m far from a boy who believes in mythical creatures.”
“Perhaps,” she said, thoughtful. “You never acted like a boy, even when that’s all you should have been.” She took a drink from her cup. “Did it work? I remember you telling me once that it did. Or were you just trying to be polite?”
