Page 206 of Vita Mia

Her son either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. He rode out of the side of the alley between the two housing units toward the street.

“Mama mia!” Maria said. She threw down her dish towel and wiped her hands on her apron. She grabbed her keys and hurried. Her husband, Big Edmundo would be working late at the courthouse. The trial had Roma burning with tension. Her poor husband was just two months into his job as a court reporter and now thrust into the biggest event in decades in the city. He was managing it well.

“I am going to spank his romp!” Maria said as she went down the stairs. She dropped her house key into the front pocket of her apron and shoved the door open. From nowhere she heard the screeching sounds of tires. It was a loud howling noise that startled her and the few kids gathered in the street. Before she could connect the source with the cause she saw her son ride his bike in the direction of a car traveling at breakneck speed.

“Edmundo!” she screamed.

The driver must have seen the kid. He swerved and the other kids scattered. Edmundo froze and the car barely clipped him before slamming into parked cars on the side of the street. Maria ran as fast as she could. She reached Edmundo and swept him up into her arms. She turned in horror at the horrific crash that could have ended her only child’s life. The car door opened, and out fell a man badly wounded and bloody. At first, she thought he was dead. Maria screamed and a few brave men in the neighborhood ran from their cover into the street. The man rolled over to his back. The accident couldn’t have been the cause of his critical state. The front of the car was mangled but the windshield hadn’t shattered. Why was his face covered in blood?

“Two of the men checked him. The third backed away in shock.

Maria kept stroking her boys back who clung to her and cried. “Who is he, Silvio? Who?”

“Call your husband. Call the polizia. Call them now Maria!”

“Who is he?” she asked with mounting dread.

The man looked at her with eyes stretched in disbelief. “It’s the devil.”

***

“PLEASE STATE YOUR NAMEfor the courts,” the prosecutor asked.

Marietta leaned into the microphone. She took her time to be heard clearly. “My name is Marietta Battaglia.”

“That is not your legal name, is it?”

Marietta glanced to Giovanni. He stared at her. His stare only made her anxiety pitch. She had seen him in her nightmares since he arrived at sea to make her think he killed her husband. And now he sat there powerless. Still she felt no victory as she once believed she would feel this day. She felt sick to her stomach with worry.

“Signora? Did you hear me?”

“Ah, yes, I mean no. My name before I married was Marietta Leone Capriccio.”

“Ah? Capriccio,” The prosecutor turned to his table and picked up his notepad. “Can you tell the court how you came to the name Capriccio?”

“I was born with it,” Marietta snapped.

The prosecutor narrowed his eyes on her. “Explain to the courts why the name Capriccio brought you to Italy.”

Marietta glanced to Giovanni who never lowered his gaze from her. She cleared her throat. Sera slipped into the courtroom with a sleeping Lorenza resting in her arms. It helped to see her baby girl. Especially in that moment.

“I was adopted in America by Octavio Leone and Teresa Leone. I was told later that my real father was an Italian businessman named Caruso Capriccio. I came to America to find him.”

“And did you?”

“No, instead I found my husband.”

“Lorenzo Alzaro Battaglia?” the prosecutor asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“The underboss to the Don Giovanni Battaglia.”

“He’s his cousin,” Marietta corrected him.

The prosecutor paused. He arched a brow. “Yes, but in your statement to my officers, you said he was the underboss to Giovanni. That he helped run his criminal empire.”

“I don’t recall making that statement,” Marietta said.

---