Carmella Commands
“Oh. she won’t say anything. I’ll just tell her I’m going.”
Carmella danced back to the kitchen. It surprised her that Maria was sitting idly, instead of beginning the dishes. But she was too prancing to reflect on this.
“Madre!” she said in Italian. “I’m going over to Amelia’s for the night.”
And she turned to race upstairs for her night things.
“Carmella, you come here!”
The girl stopped short. It was her mother’s voice, but using English.
“Quick, I say!”
Maria’s words were sharp. The time had come!
Bewildered, Carmella walked back to the kitchen. Her mother sat as before, outwardly placid. She had rehearsed this scene so often that she had become an actress. The daughter never knew the turmoil that raged in her mother’s heart. But this was Maria’s moment.
“Che cosa?” asked Carmella.
“You—are—not—go!” said Maria, slowly but firmly.
Carmella thought quickly. Something had happened, she did not quite know what, but it was necessary to find out. Her language remained Italian.
“What do you mean, care madre? I’m just going to Amelia’s.”
“You—are—not—go!”
[253]
