Immigrant Secrets by John Mancini

Author:John Mancini
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Content Results
Published: 2022-07-15T20:08:31+00:00

Ten minutes extended to about an hour, until she finally gave up. She put her head in her hands, begging for the pain to stop. Even in this park—in this tiny square of green—she could not escape the deep depression that engulfed her. All around her were signs of doom. The elm trees—most of them stripped of their leaves by the strange Dutch disease sweeping the city—all spoke to her in quiet tones of desperation, harbingers of the deathly shadows she saw at every turn.

From the very corners of the park, shadows from the past closed in on her, slowly but inevitably surrounding her. The hundred dead from the draft riots in the park during the Civil War—mostly colored and killed by the Irish—approached her. Interspersed with them she saw dead Sardinians and many Itri boys killed during the Great War. From within these shadows Frank emerged. His eyes stared at her, pleading with her, accusing her of abandoning him. Accusing her of treachery. Accusing her of his death.

She dropped her head in a prayer for even a moment of peace from the sorrow that engulfed her.

∂

1932

Elizabeth sat in the courtroom in a trance. She listened to the doctors make their report.

“Excitable. Disoriented. Bewildered. No insight. Diagnosis: Dementia Praecox.”

When her turn came, she tried to calmly tell her story.

“Mrs. Mancini, are you the petitioner for this commitment?” She glanced at her brother Dominick, not completely sure of the exact language, and he nodded his head very slightly.

“Sì, I mean, yes, your honor.”

“Can you talk very briefly about your life with Mr. Mancini?”

Although Frank was still at the crazy ward at Bellevue, she could feel his presence. She could feel his dark eyes, the eyes that could penetrate her soul. She knew that what she was about to say would change things in ways she could not possibly imagine. But she needed to do something to protect Joseph and Vincent. She started slowly.

“For the last four years Frank has acted somewhat peculiar. He often comes home from work and beats me. Recently he has beat me more often. One day I saw him talk to himself. He spits a lot. About two years ago,” she paused. It took every strength she could muster just to get the next few words out. “He had a convulsion.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Mancini. And Dr. Colbert, have you had conversations with Mr. Mancini about this? What is your assessment?”

“Yes, we have, your honor. A transcript of Mr. Mancini’s comments is in the filing.”

The judge looked down to read the comments.

I just argue with the landlord Saturday. For three to four years he always get his rent. We had argument just for nothing. I hollered at him. I don’t know why. I started to holler myself. I never was much nervous. Nothing—I can’t tell nothing. They take off all my blood; that’s the life I got. Too much dirty in the street, the house. The woman want to be stronger than me. What kind of work I have to do myself.

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