PE#5, Angela's Second Visit

Angela's Second Arrival



On Tuesday morning the Italian ship Vulcania, carrying seventeen-hundred passengers, slipped quietly through the chilly waters of New York Harbor under a sky turning pink as the sun slowly rose over the eastern horizon. Even at this early hour the ships rails were lined with passengers watching the New York skyline grow taller. The sun's rays reflected off the lines of windows in each building, turning them to gold as they reflected the coming day. Young children, who would normally run around the moist deck chasing each other and shouting, stood gazing at what for most of them would become their new home. No one aboard the Vulcania yet knew that in the canyons and valleys of the prosperous city waking before them, and still hidden by the retreating darkness of night, loomed a catastrophe that no one could have predicted, and no one could stop.

The loud voices of the stevedores preparing to tie the ship to her birth echoed against her hull as lines were thrown from the lower decks to secure her to pier nineteen. The ship finally came to rest for the first time since leaving the Italian port of Trieste, nine days ago.

Angela stood at the rail with her two young sons, Serafino, 7 and Gino 5. This was their first trip to America, but it was Angela's second, the one that would determine, once and for all, if she would permanently join her husband. Her previous trip, in nineteen-twenty-five, four years ago, had not been a good one. She had gotten sick the day she arrived and didn't feel well again until the second day of her voyage home three weeks later. She wanted her family to be reunited permanently and so she agreed to come for a visit, maybe a permanent one.

Angela's black silk scarf billowed around her chestnut hair as the wind blew across the white-painted deck. She turned to the man standing next to her at the rail, Domenico Buccella, a man she had met during the voyage. They had dined at the same table during the voyage and he treated the children kindly. He was returning to America after visiting family in Italy.

"What do you boys think of New York?" he bent down and spoke to Serafino and Gino, their eyes riveted to the tall buildings standing like sentries in the rising sun.

"Is this where you live?" Gino asked without taking his eyes from the city that seemed to be blooming right before his eyes.

"No, Gino," he said. "I live in a much smaller city just to the north...it is named Yonkers."

"Yon..kers?" He turned to his older brother Serafino. "What did he say the name of his home is?"

"I don't know," Serafino said and pulled Gino's coat closed around his neck. "You are going to catch cold if you don't stay warm." Angela watched Serafino tending to his younger brother and smiled.

"Will your wife meet you here, Mr. Buccella?" she asked.

"Yes, I hope so. The ship has arrived earlier than expected so I may have to wait for a while." He looked along the pier and his eyes followed the streets that ran to the warehouses. "I have been gone for a month, I hope she hasn't forgotten what I look like." His cheeks swelled with his smile.

"Don't worry, a wife never forgets what her husband looks like. I have enjoyed your company during the voyage, and thank you for being kind to my sons." She patted each boy on top of his head. "They don't really know what it is like to have a father around all the time." She looked out into the distance. "It is something they will have to get used to."

"It will not be difficult," Buccella said. "A boy needs a father, someone to teach him how to work hard, how to be strong." He smiled at Angela. "I'm sure everything will work out for you. From what you have told me your husband wants you to stay with him in America very badly. And if you don't mind my saying, a wife's place is with her husband, even if it means sacrificing other choices she would prefer."

"Now you sound like my mother." They both laughed. Passenger's heads turned in unison as the loud noise of metal scraping against metal filled the cool air when the gang plank was lifted into position against the ship's hull.

Buccella turned back to Angela and tipped his hat. "Well, I must go get my things together. I'm glad we met and had the opportunity to spend time together. I wish you the best during your stay. I'm sure your husband will be happy you and your sons are here."

"Gracie," Angela replied. "Arrivederci senora Buccella, Buona fortuna."

"Ah...thank you. And good luck to you as well. But you are in New York now, so you should say, In bocca al lupo!" When he saw the question in Angela's eyes he paused, then said, "It means, break a leg. It is a New York saying." He tipped his hat again and said, "Arrivederci."

Angela smiled and watched Buccella walk away then turned back to the tall buildings looming in front of her. She felt the rumbling in her stomach and wondered if she was getting ill, like on her last visit, or was it just the apprehension she had felt since purchasing her ticket.

. . .

With each carrying their own small valise, Angela and her sons made their way through the lines in the customs area of the warehouse. Once her passport was stamped, she took the boys through the large glass doors into the cool September morning and sat on a bench on the pier and waited for Severino.

"I can't wait to tell papa about the fireworks we saw at night on the ship," Serafino said. Angela smiled and remembered how the passengers gathered on the decks of the Vulcania after dark and watched the red and white hot grains of sand flying from the funnel into the darkness. Early in the voyage one of the crewmen explained to Serafino what was causing the beautiful embers that flew from the funnel like wild fireflies.

"We shovel sand into the furnace in the evening, and as the grains get hot they rise through the smoke stack and scour the inside. It keeps the funnel clean." Serafino nodded his head slowly but said nothing as Angela watched the sparks reflected in her son's dark brown eyes. After his attempts at conversation with Angela proved to be a waste of time, the crewman moved on and began talking with another child whose mother, also alone, stood nearby.



"Severino!" Angela said as she stood and walked toward her husband. As they closed the space between them she could see that Severino's face was tight with stress. He did not rush to her and so she slowed her pace and studied his face. Something is wrong. she thought as she and her husband stopped and hugged each other. As his lips found hers she backed away and turned to look at her sons, embarrassed. "Not in front of the children...what will they think?"

"I'm happy to see you, that's what they will think." Severino turned to his boys. "What are you doing sitting there?" he said with a chuckle. "Come here and give your papa a hug and a kiss."

Slowly, Gino and Serafino slid off the bench and walked to their father; a man they hardly knew. Severino dropped to one knee and hugged each boy, then pulled them both to him and whispered. "I am so happy that you are here." As he stood, Angela saw that his eyes were narrowed, he looked off into the distance, past the buildings of the city.

"What is wrong, Severino?" she asked. "Are you not happy to see me?"

"Yes, I'm very happy that you are here," he put his hand on Gino's shoulder. "And I'm happy to see the children." He paused, "It's just that..."

When his words stopped, Angela looked up at him, her eyes searched his face. "It is just that what?" She stopped walking and stood in front of him. "What's wrong, Severino...what has happened?" She waited.

Severino took the folded newspaper, the New York Daily News, from his coat pocket and unfolded it. Just above the headline on the first page, the date had been printed in bold lettering. October 29, 1929. Unfolding it, he read the headline to Angela, translating it to Italian. Then he read the headline again, this time in English. It still didn't seem real to him. "Stock Market Crashes: Bleak Outlook for U.S. Economy. Billions lost."

"What is this stock market? Angela asked. "What does that have to do with us?"

"Everything, and it is not good, Angela." He turned and looked at his wife. "There is no money. Everyone is broke. People who were rich yesterday are living in the streets today. It is a terrible catastrophe."

"I don't understand." Angela looked around. "I only see the biggest buildings of my life, no one looks poor, not like at home in Bresimo. What has all of this got to do with us?"

"Many people have lost their life savings, even me. All the money I set aside is now gone, gone forever in the stock market crash. I don't know if the store will stay open. No one has money to buy anything. I don't know what will happen even tomorrow." He led Angela to the steps of the subway; the familiar odor of ozone from the electric motors of the trains filled his senses. "We must take the train to Brooklyn." He looked down at Gino and Serafino. "We're taking the train. You two have had quite an adventure, yes? First on that big ship, and now underground on the train." He forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

. . .

Three weeks later Angela sat in the small apartment over the grocery store waiting for her husband to return from the steamship ticket office. Gino and Serafino leaned out the open window watching people walk slowly along the cracked sidewalk below. With their heads down, shoulders hunched against their ears, it seemed that no one had any place to go. Serafino backed away from the window and turned to his mother.

"Papa's coming, I see him," he said.

Angela rose from her chair and walked into the kitchen to make coffee. The weather had turned cold, very cold, and coffee would warm him after being outside for so long. The apartment door opened and Severino walked into the kitchen. His silence, and the vacant look in his eyes, told her that her husband had more bad news. There had been enough bad news over the previous three weeks to last Angela a lifetime.

"What is it Severino?" she reached out and touched his arm. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a ticket for her return trip to Italy. She said nothing. Her eyes lingered on the paper in he held, then she raised her eyes to his. "How soon?" She didn't need to say more than that.

"In two days." He averted his eyes.

"So soon?"

"If you do not go then, you will have to wait for three months. With the jobs gone, savings gone, many people are returning home. The ships are booked. I was lucky to find passage for you at all." He sat at the table. Steam rose from his cup as Angela poured coffee. "You must stay three more months, or you must leave in two days. There are no other choices."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to stay." Ignoring his coffee he looked out the window at the grey sky overhead. "But you cannot. I don't have enough money to take care of you and the children here. I will continue to send money, as much as I can and as often as I can. I will give up this apartment, live in the store down stairs. I'll keep the store open as long as I can, and hope things will turn around. Then you can come back. This time to stay." He turned to Angela who stood with her back against the sink, tears streaming down her cheeks and falling to the floor from her chin.

"I want to stay with you. I want us to be a family." She turned from her husband and wiped her eyes. "But I know you are right. I must take the children and go. There is no other way right now." Her shoulders shook as she began to cry again. Severino stood and went to her, put his arms around her and pulled her to him.

"I will work hard. I will save every penny I can. You will be able to come back soon, you'll see. Then we will be a family again."

"Come back with me, Severino." She turned in the circle of his arms and faced him. "Let's go home together, leave this place and its uncertainty...with its stock market and the misery it brings. I'm worried that something will happen." She held his gaze for a moment. "I fear that if I go without you...I won't ever see you again." She put her cheek against his chest. "People at home are poor, but not so poor that they jump to their deaths from windows. Come home with me, please Severino."

They stood in the kitchen, hugging silently, Severino breathed in the scent of his wife's hair...lavender, a fragrance from home. Outside, the grey sky began to brighten, the sun broke through in patches sending warm rays to the cold streets below, a line of sunlight began to slide across the kitchen floor as the sun slowly showed itself. The brightness creeping into the room seemed out of place to Severino.

He sighed and stepped back, holding Angela at arm's length. He took a deep breath and then began to speak.

"Angela, I cannot come back with you. People would see me as a failure. Look at him, he can't make it in America, a place where everyone we know has become rich. they would all say. He shook his head slowly from side to side. "No, Angela, I can't come back with you. I cannot earn a living there. Here I have the store. It will be difficult, I know, but I have to try. I have to try to make it work. I have put in too much time and money to just walk away. I know things will improve, I know it. And as soon as it becomes possible I will send for you again, I promise. Only this time things will be different. Things won't be so dark. You will be able to stay."

"So that's it then," Angela said as she wiped her tears and slipped away from her husband. At the door to the bedroom she turned to Severino. "I will go, and you will stay. Make the store work again, Severino. I want to come back, I want us to be a family again." Tears fell from her eyes again as she walked from the room. Severino listened to the sharp sound as she unsnapped the suitcase locks and opened the lid.

. . .

A cold wind blew as Severino stood on the concrete pier with Angela. Gino and Serafino sat on a bench, forlorn looks covering their red-cheeked faces as they looked at the big black hull of the ship that would return them to Italy.

"Work hard, and save money, Severino. As soon as things are good again I will return."

"I have already given up the apartment, which will save on expenses. I can live in the stock room at the store. It is fine for just me, I don't need much." He pulled his wife to him and felt her shiver in the cold air. "It is for the best that I stay here, work hard and make a life for us all."

"I know, but I can't help but be unhappy at my leaving. I want so much for us to all be together." She looked over her husband's shoulder at the tall buildings that soared to the sky, thinking to herself that they looked like sharp teeth—the teeth of a monster. "Severino, please be careful, I am afraid for you."

"I will be fine, and we will be together again, soon. I promise, Angela." They kissed, but Angela did not pull away like the day when they stood on this pier three weeks ago. As they stepped away from each other, Angela put her hand out to her boys and they slowly rose from the bench and walked to her, took her hand and looked up at their father.

"Take care of you mama, both of you." He dropped to one knee and hugged each of his sons and kissed them on each cheek. "I will miss you both very much."

"Ciao, papa," they said in unison and turned to go.

Angela took a few steps toward the ship, but then she stopped and turned back to Severino and forced a smile. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, then she said, "In bocca al lupo!"

. . . . .

Word Count: 2919