MEET YOU AGAIN, MY MAFIA

A BAD DREAM

FOUR YEARS LATER

FIORELLA BIANCHI

I am sitting in my boss’s office, paging through the real estate magazine, searching for a beautiful home for me and my son. I think we have stayed long enough in an apartment, and we have been notified that the whole building has been bought by someone else. Our previous landlord was a very nice man, but not knowing the new one and how they will treat their tenants gives me chills. Hopefully, I move out of that place in three months as I am planning to.

As I am paging through the magazine, looking for a two-bedroomed house shown in the magazine, my phone rings and the caller ID shows my son’s creche teacher, Mrs. Ricci. Without waiting for it to ring for another second, I answer it instantly. When it comes to my son, I do not compromise.

“Mrs. Ricci, hi. Is Massimo okay; did something happen?” I ask in a rush to get answers. Mrs. Ricci never calls me unless it is something urgent, especially during school time.

“Good day, Ms. Bianchi. Unfortunately, I am calling you with bad news. Massimo has not been feeling okay, and he did not eat his lunch. We took him to the sickbay after he spewed from eating an apple. The nurse has eased his body temperature and gave him something to ease up the tension in his body, but I strongly suggest that you take him to the doctor,”

“Oh, my God. I will be there in twenty minutes. Thank you so much.” I hang up, grabbing my bag, not forgetting the magazine.

I walk out to the reception to sign out from work and let them know it is an urgent matter. I work in a publishing company, and I am currently a Junior Writer, writing erotic romance short stories and publishing them in the company blog Monday to Friday, but it never goes online without my editor’s approval. It has always been my dream to be a writer, and I hope someday I get to publish my own book because my life has a story that needs to be told. I need to tell my story of how I made it to live in a different country.

I am originally from Germany, but I currently live in Rome in Italy. My name, my origin, my face, and my son have a lot of meanings behind them, so one day instead of telling everyone how I ended up in Italy, I am going to put them all in a book. It is a very interesting story, and I know that people will love to know it. Back in Germany, everyone except for my parents who don’t even know where I am believe that I am dead. I am dead in Germany, but I am definitely a Rebirth with a new identity in Italy. I have been living here for over three years; it was hard for the first few months, especially because I was pregnant, but I have never been happier than I am right now.

***

After fetching my son Massimo, I took him to the doctor, where it was confirmed that my son has stomach flu. We are at home now and I am trying to feed him so that he can take his medication we got from the doctor, but he takes forever to swallow, I made him Maltabella porridge. This used to be my favourite when I was a child, even now. My mother raised me with this for breakfast. She once told me that she visited a friend in South Africa, and they cooked this porridge for breakfast. Firstly, it smelled so good and the moment she tasted it; she knew it was something she would take home with her. At least that is something I would say that I took from my mother and what I shall remember her with— I kept the tradition going and I am passing it to my son who enjoys this porridge more than he can ever do with cereals. I need to order more from South Africa.

“Mommy, I’m full,” Massimo whines. I made the porridge a little runny, and he did not eat much.

“But Simo, you only had three spoons. I need to give you a little more to that,”

He frowns, looking down before he starts crying. Oh, my three-year-old boy is such a cry baby.

“Okay, just one more spoon, then I am going to read you a bedtime story, okay?”

“One?” He asks.

“I promise,” Does he even know what it even means to make a promise to someone?

Anyway, after giving him the final spoon, I gave him his medication, and then I started to read him the story I personally wrote for him. It is about me and his father; he is also in the story, he just does not know it yet, not even who the book is about, but he will understand one day when he grows up.

“And so, the cub let out his first cry after he was born, and the mother smiled and looked up before she said thank you,” I read, but my son was already asleep by now. I tuck him comfortably into my bed and cover his body with the blanket. He is sleeping with me because I want him close so that I can monitor him throughout the night. I kiss him on his chubby cheek and walk out of the room.

A knock comes through the door before a letter was slid under the door. From its color, I can already tell it is from the landlord. I pick it up and then read it.

‘Dear Tenant,

Most of you have probably heard about the landlord selling the buildings. Just so you know, there will be a few changes that will take effect as soon as the new landlord takes over, but for now, we would like to call out all tenants to join the meeting in the hall that will take place on Saturday 1 PM.

We would like to hear what your thoughts are and if you are worried about anything. Our new landlord will also be here for you to meet and to listen to your complaints if there are any.

Yours truly,

Admin,’

Well, I guess this is only fair, but I have no complaints. My rent was always paid on time, and everything was fixed on time when I requested help. I have been living here for eighteen months and my landlord has made my stay here comfortable, and the security is highly secure. I hope our new landlord will continue from here. I am a little worried though about the changes that will be made.

I walk to the kitchen, pour myself a glass of milk, and take the chocolate chip cookie jar with me as I go to the living room to my workstation.

Speaking of work, I should call my boss and let her know that I can’t come to work for a few days because my son is sick. I will work from home and make sure that I submit my work on time. She should understand because she also has kids, which has happened multiple times to her before.

***

“Babe, you look uneasy, what is the matter?” I ask, holding his free hand as he is driving, the car speeding on the freeway.

He gives my hand a long peck before he lets go of it.

“I love you so much, my Fiorella,” It is not even my name, but I love it when he calls me that. It means flower or little flower.

“I love you too, a lot more,” I excitedly say.

“I know,” He weakly smiles. “I need you to take the big teddy bear and hold on to it tightly and don’t let go,”

“What? You mean now?” I ask, confused.

“Yes, please, my love. I just want you to feel comfortable because it is going to be a long drive you might end up sleeping,”

I chuckle, shaking my head at his ridiculous self. Either way, I grab it in the backseat and cling it to my chest. Gosh, it is so plushie and fat; so comfortable to hold on to.

“It is so big and soft,”

“Just like you, my love,” He says in a hoarse voice which makes me turn to him, and only then do I notice his tears streaming out of his green eyes.

“Amore, why are you crying?” I ask, worriedly.

“Just hold on to that teddy bear and no matter what, don’t let go of it and keep your seatbelt on, promise me,”

I start crying too.

“Why, baby what is happening? Just tell me!”

“There is no one I’d want to be with other than you right now. At least I know that I would die a happy man, baby I am sorry,” He cries, focusing his eyes on the road.

“Benjamin,” I whisper in my cry.

“I do not meant to scare you, sweetie, but I think someone tampered with the brakes of my car before I came to fetch you. I only realise now because the car won’t stop or slow down. I am sorry, my love, I should have checked the car first before I got to your house,” So all this time he has been driving a car that has no brakes. For how long?

“No, baby it is not your fault, okay. It is not your fault!” I try not to panic and not to think about it

“I love you so much, baby,” He confesses

“I love you too, honey.” We both cry, holding hands. ”I don’t want to die, Ben,”

“We won’t die, Jasmine.”

Just then, he quickly let go of my hand to try and control the car as we’ve reached the end of the freeway, and we are now joined by different cars going in different directions. Cars hoot at us and my heart is beating so fast, but I don’t want to scream and cause a panic that would lead to our accident, so I closed my eyes, holding on to the teddy bear and a few seconds later I felt a loud bang before the car flew into the air. I felt Gabriele’s hand holding my arm and I knew this was it. I saw my whole life flashing in front of me.

“BENJAMIN!!!!!!” I let out my last scream before I felt another bang that knocked me out completely.

“Mommy!” I hear Massimo crying, calling out my name.

I flipped my eyes open and jumped up, running my eyes around the room – my bedroom.

“Massimo, are you okay baby?” I pull him into my arms, panting. “Mommy was having a horrible dream, I am sorry,” I kiss his temple.

“Again?”

Again? Yes. This horrible dream visits me randomly and it is not the first time I am having it when Massimo and I are sleeping together. Maybe it is because I miss his father so much. It’s been four years, but it still feels like yesterday.

“Yes, Simo, but I am okay.” No, I am not. I still have not moved on from what happened back then in Germany. I have not completely healed from that accident. “But how are you feeling from today?” I feel his temperature, and it is still very high.

“I’m fine,” Of course I expected him to tell me that because every kid hates drinking their medication.