The Weight of Waiting
There I was… waiting. Waiting at the entrance to Carney’s Crazy Carnival, waiting for the magical person that served as the object of my hope…
Sort by category
There I was… waiting. Waiting at the entrance to Carney’s Crazy Carnival, waiting for the magical person that served as the object of my hope…
“Romonno! Avanti!” “Si, si. Io sa!” All around me, it was chaos. 14-year-old me was stuck, horrified, as my parents breathlessly started to prepare to…
“Romonno! Avanti!”
“Si, si. Io sa!” All around me, it was chaos. 14-year-old me was stuck, horrified, as my parents breathlessly started to prepare to escape. I heard knocking and yelling at the door as the others tried to break through the barrier. Gunshots rang outside as well, our windows shattering at the barrage of bullets. But I had no time to contemplate my own fear. My 8-year-old brother, Prosper, was paralyzed in terror, his trapped position dangerously close to the door. All I knew was that I had to do something, something, to save him. My parents were rushing around me, oblivious to Prosper’s predicament. I saw my father loading his gun, ready for confrontation. My mother gestured for me to take Prosper so we could escape, but I hesitated. I didn’t want to leave my father alone…
“Romonno! Vai con tua madre!” My father yelled at me to follow my mother. I guess the decision was made. I quickly went to take Prosper in my arms and followed my mother to the back door. However, as my mother opened it to flee the scene, she was met with the barrel of a gun.
“Buona Notte, Signora.” With that good night message, the man holding the gun pulled the trigger, murdering my mother in front of my brother and me. My brother screamed and, for a moment, the man was startled as he looked upon the pained expression on the face of the 8-year-old whose mother he had just killed. I took my chance and grabbed the gun, trying to wrench it from his grip. I kicked his knee and he momentarily let go, allowing me to take free control of his gun. Immediately, I pointed it towards his face, taking my shot. The last I saw of him was the surprise painted on him before he dropped down, his lifeless body crumpling to the ground.
I had no time to think further because I had to find somewhere to hide. I ended up choosing a spot behind some barrels near our shed. As I led Prosper there and hushed him, he started crying, tears running freely down his cheek, shock overtaking him. I took him into my arms and hugged him tightly, hoping to allow him to feel secure, a sense of safety that I certainly didn’t feel. Gunshots still rang out in the distance, violence overwhelming my own home. I knew why they had come—my father used to run with Frank Luciano, a notorious mafia boss in our small town of Positano. He’d gotten mixed up with the wrong people, turning to a life of crime, but for the sake of my mother and my brother, he’d realized his mistake. He had tried to turn away from Luciano, but he was ruthless. My father knew the risk, and yet he rolled the dice anyway. Part of me hated him for that, but I couldn’t hate my own father. All he ever wanted to do was protect us, but alas, where’d that protection end up?
We stayed like this for hours, Prosper eventually falling asleep in my embrace. I realized it was up to me to get us to safety. But where? Where could we possibly go, with the deaths of both my mother and my father? And what then? Something in me longed for revenge, to search for that group with the golden dragon insignia, but realistically, what could 14-year-old me accomplish? No, my first priority was taking care of my brother.
With that in mind, I returned to the house. I remembered my parents once speaking about some sort of secret warehouse they had and I knew they kept a map of its location in the hidden compartment of a wooden desk in a locked room upstairs. As I walked, I saw bodies all around the floor, bullets painting the gruesome picture of the war that had broken out in our little house. I didn’t see my father, but I doubted he’d have made it. No one beats Luciano. I first went to my parent’s bedroom for the key to the room, which I knew was placed behind a painting of a lion hanging above the fireplace. My family had many secrets… too many for their own sake. I placed Prosper on the bed before retrieving the key and heading to the locked room. I fumbled around with the lock, eventually getting it to open. The desk remained the only thing in the room. Finding the hidden compartment, I took the map and made my way back to my brother. As I investigated its contents, he started to wake.
“What… what happened? Where’s Mamma and Papà?” I didn’t have the heart to tell him their fates, so I stayed silent. Tears slowly clouded my eyes, but I shook them away. I had a responsibility, a duty to fulfill. I focused on the map, trying to figure out where in the world that warehouse was.
“Romonno?” Prosper looked more terrified than I’d ever seen him. I too was afflicted with that terror, but it was best not to let him know, so I put on my strongest face and comforted him.
“Don’t worry, Prosper. It’ll all be okay… Remember what Mamma used to say? Che sarà, sarà. Whatever will be, will be…” I wish I trusted my own words… I shook the tears away again, but a singular drop landed on the map. The place it marked was, miraculously, the warehouse. It was marked with a dragon, but I knew that was our family’s code for safe zones. I took Prosper in my arms again as we left the house, possibly to never come back. I knew Luciano would eventually come knocking around, looking for us. Like I said before, he was ruthless: there’s no way he’d leave any loose ends, even if they were just children.
It was the middle of the night as we walked, rain pouring down as if demonstrating the chaotic storm we had just endured. I took a cap from my pocket and donned it on Prosper, turning up his collar to fight the cold air. The warehouse was a couple miles from the house, but we had to tread carefully, avoiding any signs of Luciano’s men. I still had the gun I had taken from the murderer of my mother, but I had no wish to use it. My father’s lessons in gunmanship seemed to have paid off after all… if only this wasn’t the situation I had to use them in. I walked in, sighing at all that life had to deliver to me. As I contemplated, someone suddenly grabbed Prosper. Instinctively, I turned in his direction, but the assailant, along with Prosper, was nowhere to be seen. A cold shiver ran down my spine as something sharp pressed against the back of my neck.
“Luciano sends his greetings!” I could hear the assailant’s wicked laugh as he prepared himself to murder two innocent children.
“Romonno!” Prosper was also behind me, most probably held hostage by this stranger.
“Your brother can’t save you this time, little man.” With that, he spun me around and pushed me to the ground, his knife now pressed dangerously close to Prosper’s ear.
“What are you going to do, hm? I think I should take this ear as a trophy…” He was still laughing as I drew the gun and shot him straight in the heart. The second time I had killed someone in front of my own brother that day… not the bonding I had imagined.
“Romonno!” Prosper came rushing to me and I once again held him closely as the rain continued all around us.
“Hush now, Prosper. We need to get away.” We walked on, my heart hoping against hope I wouldn’t have to fight again.
Finally, we reached the warehouse. I rushed inside with Prosper, feeling somewhat liberated as we were finally safe.
Or so I thought. As soon as I entered, the room lit up to reveal a dozen guns all trained on me. Luciano himself stood in the center, smiling at me.
“Drop the gun, boy. As you can see, you’re outmatched.” He was right.
“Why are you doing this? What are a couple of kids going to do?” I hoped that he’d find some sympathy in his cold, cold heart, but I doubted it.
“Loose ends, and all. You should know our rules by now. Your father was one of a kind. Which is why I offer you this: join us, and we’ll let your brother go.” What a price to pay…
“Join you? Join the murderers of my parents? Why would I?”
“Because if you don’t, your brother will soon have a hundred bullets in his little body as you helplessly watch.” Threatening an 8-year-old too… what was I supposed to do?
“Let my brother go, first, and I’ll discuss.” A plan was hatching in my mind…
“Very well. Let the kid go.” I almost expected Luciano to refuse, but it appeared he really did want me to join his little group after all.
“Prosper. Listen. Go over to Aunt Eslito’s house. She’ll take care of you.” I would have gone there instead of the warehouse at first but I assumed Luciano would have guessed that plan. What a time and way to be wrong… at least Eslito’s was presumably safe now, especially for Prosper.
“Romonno, no. I don’t wanna leave you!” He started crying and my heart ached as I thought through my next actions.
“It’ll be OK. Always remember that I love you, Prosper. And always remember Che sarà, sarà.”
“Che sarà, sarà,” he repeated. With that, his crying still filling the room, he turned away to exit. I sighed as I realized that was the last I’d ever see of my brother… I shook the tears away one final time as I prepared myself.
“Well?” Luciano awaited my answer.
“Okay, okay. I’ll join your little group.”
“That’s the right decision. Now, come closer! Let me take a better look at you.” I walked cautiously towards him, still expecting him to command the twelve guns to shoot. He had no weapon of his own aimed at me, which was perfect for my idea.
Suddenly, about seven feet from Luciano, I stopped in my tracks, drawing my gun once more and directing it towards Luciano.
“Now, now. Don’t do anything foolish, boy. You’ll never leave here alive if you do.” He looked surprised at my rash decision, but that soon turned to amusement. Little did he know…
“I know I won’t. But as long as you’re alive, Prosper, or anyone else in my family, is never safe. I know your rules as well as you do. And I know what you’re capable of. I won’t let you shatter any other family again, no. This is your end.” With that, I fired the last shot I’d ever take, the bullet seeming to travel in slow motion toward his head. As it struck its target, I felt bombarded with bullets all over as we both dropped to the floor. My final moments were upon me… I took out the picture I had of my family from 5 years ago, from before any of this chaos descended upon us. I smiled at it, reminiscing on all the memories we had forged, the four of us always bonded so strongly… tears streamed down my cheek as I readied myself for death. This time, I didn’t shake them away. My face was frozen with that smile and those tears as I drifted off to eternal sleep. Che sarà, sarà.
Cookie | Duration | Description |
---|---|---|
cookielawinfo-checbox-analytics | 11 months | This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Analytics". |
cookielawinfo-checbox-functional | 11 months | The cookie is set by GDPR cookie consent to record the user consent for the cookies in the category "Functional". |
cookielawinfo-checbox-others | 11 months | This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Other. |
cookielawinfo-checkbox-necessary | 11 months | This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookies is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Necessary". |
cookielawinfo-checkbox-performance | 11 months | This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Performance". |
viewed_cookie_policy | 11 months | The cookie is set by the GDPR Cookie Consent plugin and is used to store whether or not user has consented to the use of cookies. It does not store any personal data. |
There was a problem reporting this post.
Please confirm you want to block this member.
You will no longer be able to:
Please allow a few minutes for this process to complete.