Mary Clark - All Through The Night

“I say, ‘Shark, the hellish angels sing,’ “ six-year-old Tommy suggested.

Sister Maeve Marie tried not to smile. Lead us not into Penn Station, she thought-that’s what my brothers used to tell me to say. Tommy had a smart-aleck big brother at home; chances were, he had been coaching his younger brother. “Tommy, you have to get it right, and if you don’t listen, you can’t be the head shepherd,” she said firmly.

The rehearsal ended at six. Not a bad first practice, Maeve Marie decided as she complimented the children on their performances. The nice thing was that the kids were enjoying it.

She had enjoyed it as well, although the pleasure she took in seeing the children learn their parts was tempered by her concern and growing sense of unease: Where was Cordelia, and what had gone wrong?

As she helped to sort out jackets and mittens and scarves, Maeve noticed that, as usual, Stellina had carefully hung up her beautifully tailored blue winter jacket, which, the little girl had proudly explained, her nonna had made for her.

By six-thirty all the children except Jerry and Stellina were gone, most having waited for an adult or older sibling to walk them home. At quarter of seven, Sister Maeve Marie brought the two of them downstairs to the thrift shop, which was closed now. Five minutes later, Gracie Nunez hurried in.

“My boss,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We had to get out some skirts. Two of the girls didn’t show. Woulda been worth my job to tell her I had kids to worry about. God bless you, Sister. You have no idea what it means to know that the kids arc safely with you. Jerry, say good night and thank you to Sister.”

Stellina did not need to be reminded. “Good night, Sister,” she said quietly. “And thank you very much.” Then with a rare smile she added, “Nonna is so happy that I’m to be the Blessed Mother. She listens to me recite my lines every night, and when she does, she calls me Madonna.”

Maeve locked the door behind them and quickly began turning off the lights. Cordelia must either still be with Kate Durkin or she stopped in for a visit with some of the old girls, Maeve decided. She sighed with concern over what kind of news she would hear when she got home.

As she was putting on her coat she heard a tapping on the front window. She turned to see the face of a man who appeared to be fortyish, his features illuminated by the streetlight. Maeve stared at him with an ex-cop’s intuitive sense of unease.

“Sister, is my little girl still here? I mean Stellina Centino,” he called.

Stellina’s father! Maeve hurried to the door and opened it. With professional detachment she studied the thin-faced man, immediately distrusting both his vague good looks and his hangdog expression. “I’m sorry, Mr. Centino,” she said coolly, “we didn’t expect you. Stellina went home as usual with Mrs. Nunez.”

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Lenny Centino said. “I forgot. My job keeps me out of town a lot. Okay, Sister, I’ll see you next week. I plan to be picking her up some nights. Take her to dinner and maybe even a movie. I wanna give Star a treat. I’m proud of her. She’s turning into some good-looking kid.”

“You should be proud. She’s a beautiful child in every way,” Maeve Marie said shortly. She stood in the doorway and watched him leave. She sensed something disturbing and unsettling about that man.

Still troubled by concern for Sister Cordelia, she made a final check of the premises, turned on the security system and walked home through the dusting of snow that was promising to turn into another full-blown storm.

She found Sister Cordelia sitting with Sister Bernadette and Sister Catherine, two elderly retired nuns who shared their apartment-convent. “Maeve, I confess to being weary to the soul,” Cordelia said, and then proceeded to tell her about the newfound will left by Bessie Durkin Maher.

Instantly suspicious, Maeve asked questions about the new document: “Aside from the use of the word ‘pristine,’ is there anything to suggest the will is a fake?”

Cordelia smiled wanly. “Only Alvirah’s instinct,” she said.

Sister Bernadette, who would be ninety on her next birthday, had been nodding in an easy chair. “Alvirah’s instinct, and something the Lord told us, Cordelia,” she said. “You all know what I mean.”

Smiling at their puzzled expressions, she murmured, “‘Suffer the little children to come unto me.’ I don’t think Bessie would have forgotten that, however house proud she was.”

Stellina kept the key to the apartment in a zippered pocket of her coat. Nonna had given it to her hut had made her promise that she would never tell anyone it was there.

Now she always used it when she got home so Nonna wouldn’t have to get up if she was resting.

It used to be that when she came home from school she would find Nonna sewing in the small room where Daddy always slept when he was home. Then they’d have milk and cookies, and if Nonna had clothes to deliver, or someone to fit for a hem or a new dress, Stellina would accompany her great-aunt and help carry the bags and boxes to the ladies’ homes.

But Nonna had been going to the clinic a lot lately, and that was why Mrs. Nunez had suggested Stellina should be at Home Base each day after school.

Some nights, if Nonna was feeling well, Stellina would arrive home to find her in the kitchen, dinner cooking on the stove and the apartment filled with the good, warm smell of pasta sauce. But tonight she found Nonna lying in bed, with her eyes closed. Stellina could see though that she wasn’t asleep, because her lips were moving. She’s probably praying, Stellina thought. Nonna prayed a lot.

Stellina bent down to kiss her. “Nonna, I’m home.”

Nonna opened her eyes and sighed. “I was so worried. Your papa came home. He said he was going to Home Base. He said he wanted to take you out. I don’t want you to go out with him. If ever he shows up there, asking for you, say that Nonna wants you to go home with Mrs. Nunez.”

“Daddy’s home?” Stellina asked, trying to hide her distress at the news. She wouldn’t tell even Nonna that she was sorry he had reappeared, but she was. Whenever Daddy was home, he and Nonna argued a lot. And Stellina didn’t like to go out with him, either, because sometimes they visited people and he would argue with them too. Sometimes the people gave him money and he’d argue about that, usually saying that something he gave them was worth a lot more than the money he’d received.

Nonna leaned on her elbow, sat up, then got out of bed very slowly. “You must be hungry, cara. Come. I’ll fix dinner for you.”

Stellina reached out her arm to help steady Nonna as she got up.

“Such a good girl,” Nonna murmured as she headed into the kitchen.

Stellina was hungry, and Nonna’s pasta was always so good, but tonight it was hard for her to eat because of her concern for her great-aunt. Nonna looked so worried, and her breathing was fast, as though she had been running.

The click of the lock in the front door told them that Daddy was home. Immediately Nonna began to frown, and Stellina’s mouth went dry. She knew that there would be an argument soon.

Lenny came into the kitchen and ran over to Stellina and picked her up. He swung her around and kissed her. “Star, baby,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”

Stellina tried to pull away. He was hurting her.

“Put her down, you roughneck!” Nonna shouted. “Get out of here! Stay out of here! You’re not welcome! Go away! Leave us alone!”

Lenny didn’t display his usual anger. He just smiled. “Aunt Lilly, maybe I will go for good, but if I do, I’ll take Star with me. Neither you nor anyone else can stop me. Don’t forget, I’m her daddy.”