Page 90 of The Deadly Candies

“Hush now,” Big Mama murmured, one hand stroking her heart and the other shooing away Ely. “Let me think.”

Kathy nodded. She waited. She and Ely waited in silence.

“Tell me again. Tell anything she said,” Big Mama sighed.

“She didn’t give me any warning or goodbye. She just left recipes for cakes and candies, using the stuff I’m not allowed to talk about,” Kathy said.

Ely’s eyes met Big Mama’s and then averted away.

“You know somethin’ too?” Big Mama asked.

Ely removed his cap from his head and turned it nervously in his callused hands. The afternoon light slanting through the window sliced across his face, showing the worry in his furrowed brow. “Mama…” he started, then paused. His throat worked as he swallowed. “I do know a bit. But Janey made me promise not to tell.”

Big Mama’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her voice remained calm. “I understand you wanna keep Janey’s trust. Lord knows that child runs on secrets like a train on coal. But this here is different. A strange man came all this way after her and brought the sheriff into it. We can’t help Janey if we’re all in the dark.” Big Mama dropped her head and said a silent prayer before he spoke again. “Go on, tell me now. You tell me what you know, Ely,” she said firmly.

Ely nodded, jaw tightening and then releasing as he made his decision. He shot an apologetic glance at Kathy, then back to Big Mama. “I took her to the station. Had to carry her luggage in. When I got to the window, she was there purchasing her ticket. Had identification. Her name, she said her name was Jane… Bonanno. Like that man that came. Bought a ticket for a ‘white car’. Like a white woman. And the guy at the counter didn’t even blink.”

Ely licked his lips, remembering. The scene was vivid in his mind: Janey at the ticket counter, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might recognize her. The station lights had cast a pale glow on her face, and the brim of her stylish hat cast a shadow over her eyes. She had slid money across the counter and spoken in a low voice to the ticket agent, but Ely still heard her.

“Bonanno?” Big Mama whispered, as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

“That’s the name, Big Mama,” Ely replied quietly. “Jane Bonanno. She spelled it out for the ticket man. B-O-N-A-N-N-O. I remember because I thought it strange… didn’t sound right hearin’ her call herself that. I… I only realized later why.” He hesitated, then added, “Same as his.”

Kathy’s hands flew to her mouth again. Her eyes were wide as moons. She breathed. “Dear God… Does that mean…?”

“It can only mean one thing,” Big Mamma said, barely above a whisper. “Janey… Janey must’ve married that man.”

Bonanno.The name clung to the walls like smoke. Kathy’s mind raced—Carmelo’s stories of Sicilian mobsters were always centered in Sicily and New York. He never once mentioned Sicilians or Italians in New Orleans. Janey’s laughter as she’d once joked,“Love’s a bullet, baby, for the dumb.. Better pray it don’t hit you ‘cause it’ll make you stupid.”

Big Mama sank back into her chair, the wood creaking under her weight. “She married him,” she muttered, more to herself than them. “That fool girl married a Sicilian and told him the truth.”

“But it’sillegal,” Kathy choked out, though the words felt hollow. She thought of Carmelo’s plans and how hollow they became because of their limited options.

“In New Orleans, color’s a currency.” Big Mama’s laugh was bitter. “Janey’s light enough to pass. Everybody mixes up in New York - Italians, Sicilians, and even island boys like Debbie's got. But down south? New Orleans belongs to the Sicilians. Those men run the Quarter like kings, and they play by different rules. They'll take a light-skinned gal who can pass, marry a quadroon if she's got the right connections. Janey... Lord help her, she slipped into that world I think two of the Elliot girls, cain’t remember their names, disappeared into it. What shocks me isn't that she married one of them - it's that she left him breathing to come looking for her. That man—Bonanno—don’t seem the least bit afraid of her. Why?”

“Why is any man afriad Aunt Janey?” Kathy asked.

“Is you payin attention, Kathy? That reciepes, those candies. You know your family legacy. Janey is trouble, because she sweet until she not. I tried to excorcise those demons out of her. Sometimes she stay a spell and I let her get in my bed and sleep next to me and cry. Then she in the wind again. I had hoped that with you here Kathy, she’d be still. Brenda and I both.”

Ely’s jaw flexed. “He’ll come back. That lawman ain’t the type to quit.”

Big Mama scoffed. “My guess is he aint no lawman. Sheriff Hanes is as dumb as a sack of potatoes.” She reached for Kathy’s hand, her palm rough but warm. “We bury this secret deep. For Janey’s sake. Forours.”

Kathy nodded, the weight of the unspoken pressing down:Bonanno wasn’t just a name. It was a grenade.

Outside, cicadas hummed, their song swelling into a warning.

26

Jensen Plantation - 1949

"Kathy?"

Mrs. Lottie's voice drifted down the corridor, soft as a whisper against the damp washroom walls. Kathy’s hands move quick and sure over the laundry. She'd risen before dawn, her mind fixed on Harlem—on the reunion in her heart. Big Mama had promised Mrs. Lottie she'd make up Janey's work, and Kathy meant to see it done fast. The other girls had pestered her all morning about New York City—"You gonna see them bright lights? Ride one a'them streetcars?"—their voices full of wonder, like Harlem was some kind of promised land. For a little while, their excitement had warmed her, pushing back the shadows of home.

"Kathy, child—you hear me callin' you?"Mrs. Lottie's tone turned sharp, slicing through the washroom's steady rhythm.

"Yes, ma’am.”Kathy set down the freshly pressed shirt, wiping her hands on her apron before stepping into the hall. Mrs. Lottie stood waiting, her eyes narrowed and knowing.

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