A voice cut through the crowd. “Feeeeena! Where aaaarrre you?”
“Here, Rosa!” Serafina watched the swarm of peasants part for her. Her face purpled and she scurried toward Serafina, rearranging her load of packages from one hand to the other, and clutching her hat. Tessa clung to Rosa’s skirts, skipping to keep up.
“Finally!” Serafina pecked Rosa on both cheeks, bent to kiss Tessa whose hair was in ringlets. She wore a silk dress of red and green plaid reaching to mid-calf, the bodice cut deep to reveal a linen blouse with ruffled collar and tiny pearl buttons. Her petticoat had rows of lace near the tops of cordovan boots.
“What a pretty dress!” Serafina said.
“Bella made it before she died,” Rosa said.
“Let me take some of these packages. Oh, this one smells delicious. What did you bring?”
“Gifts for Bella’s father and for that Grinaldi woman. And cook fixed a box of food for the train. It’s heavy, can you manage?” She looked down at Tessa. “Sorry I said those words to you, my girl. Pity, we couldn’t find your bracelet. Searched all over, didn’t we?” The madam fanned herself, whispered something into Tessa’s ear. Tessa gazed at the crowded station while she listened. She gave her a swift peck on the cheek.
In front of them, two boys began a tug of war over a toy wooden cart. The older boy yanked it from the younger one’s grip. He fell, cracking his knee on the stone floor, and bawled. Motes of dust erupted into the light streaming down from high windows. Seeing blood, the mother wailed. People closed around the scene, waved arms.
Serafina said, “Who knew there’d be so many people at this early hour? Let’s find Renata. She’s buying the tickets. See her over there?”
Rosa shook her head. “How can you find anyone in this crowd?”
“You’re blind,” Serafina said, gesturing to the front of the line where her daughter was handing money through the bars of the window. Holding hands, the three of them walked over and greeted Renata who managed to collect the tickets, peck Rosa’s cheeks, and introduce herself to Tessa.
Tessa and the three women made their way to an empty space next to a large window. They saw hundreds on the platform, talking, bustling, calling to one another. Most of the women wore homespun skirts and Garibaldi blouses, shawls wrapped around their shoulders.
“We’ll never get on the train. We’d better go home, have Carlo or Vicenzu drive us to La Vucciria,” she said.
“Better yet, we’ll drive ourselves,” Renata said.
“Not on your life,” Rosa said. “I’m brave, but not foolhardy, and I’ve given my driver the day off because we planned to take the train.” She shot Serafina a look. “We’ll take a later one.”
“Maybe there’s a conductor outside who knows when the crowd will thin. Hold hands. We’ll have to force our way to the door,” Serafina said.
The three women arranged themselves around Tessa. They pushed their way forward, making progress toward the platform until a man with an infant in his arms blocked their way.
Serafina smelled dirty diaper. The baby began to cry. The man tried to calm him, but the infant’s yowls became more strident.
Rosa held a linen to her nose. “My eyes, they water so!”
The man looked up at Serafina and Renata. “Please, dearest ladies, can you help?”
“Let me have a look.” Rosa elbowed her, but Serafina continued to reach out for the infant.
The man, dressed in clean but threadbare clothes, handed him to Serafina.
“There, there.” Serafina rocked him. Renata bent close to see the child’s face, then pulled away.
“Fina, what are you doing? Why did you get me out of my bed at such an ungodly hour-to watch you hold this crying baby? Give the child back to his father.”
“About a month old, I’d say. Didn’t deliver, or I’d recognize him.” She smoothed the infant’s brows with two fingers, stroked his ears, felt his silky hair. The baby made sucking noises and slept. “Hungry for his mother’s milk. Where is she?”
The man’s brow furrowed. “My wife, she comes soon. Now she makes a final look over our house, because today we take the boat. Leave for good.” He strained upward, trying to see beyond the crowd. “One moment. I think I see her. Maybe getting off the cart now?” Smiling, he said, “Yes, I see her.” He waved and turned back to them. “Be right back.”
“You see, Rosa. No harm done. The mother’s here.”
“And all of Palermo will walk on the other side of the street when they smell you coming. It’s after seven thirty. Where’s the train? We need to be on the platform. Oh, Fina,” she said, stomping her foot, “you’ll be the death of me! How do you stand this mother of yours?”
Renata shrugged. “Whatever she wants, we do.”
“Not all of you,” Rosa said. “Some of you leave.”
Renata’s eyes widened and she put a finger to her lips.
By this time the waiting room was dangerously overcrowded. The man, barely visible, continued yelling for his wife. They watched him slip out the door. Serafina, Rosa and Renata stood motionless, hemmed in by the press of people. The baby slept in Serafina’s arms. The man disappeared.
Renata stood on tiptoes. “There he is! Let’s follow him.”
They made their way to the door. Warm for a November morning, the sun lemony, the air weighted with the smell of lavender, as if it were early spring. The man was nowhere in sight. The crowd outside the waiting room swelled.
“The mother must be frantic by now. Any moment she’ll appear, flailing her arms and shrieking. Let’s see if we can get through these people,” Renata said.
Rosa muttered, “Oldest trick in the book and the great wizard falls for it.”
“Excuse us,” Serafina said as they wedged through a small opening. She tripped on a bag. As the contents spilled out, the owner blocked their way, yelled in dialect.
“Someone’s life strewn before you, and what do you do? — step on it!” Rosa said.
“You fat cow, you pushed me.” Serafina felt her jaw tighten. Her movements were sharp, she knew.
“Enough, both of you.” Tears pooled in Renata’s eyes. She and Tessa bent down to help the woman. Renata murmured something to her. She looked up at Renata and smiled. “Si!” She closed up the bag and scurried off.
Renata stood. “You two: act your age!”
Serafina and Rosa looked at each other. Rosa made a face at the infant. Serafina laughed. Rosa waved the air away. Tessa laughed.
“This way, everyone.” Renata led them around the side to the platform.
Serafina told them to look around for a short man wearing a cap. Rosa said something about all men being short and wearing caps. Serafina was about to correct the madam when a high-pitched whistle pierced her ears. Steam and smoke engulfed them as the train pulled into the station and stopped.
People jostled their way to the front. Tessa and the three women were no match for the peasants.
“Help me find the father of this baby,” Serafina said to a porter. “I held the baby while he went to looked for-”
“-his wife and sister who returned home for one last look?” the porter asked.
“Oh, thank the Madonna, he told you to look out for us!”
His smile was lopsided. “You won’t find him here.”
Serafina said, “No, you don’t understand-”
“Oh, I understand. He’s not here.”
Conductors helped the last of the passengers squeeze onto the train. One signed to the engineer, and the doors closed.
People hung out of open windows, waved handkerchiefs, cried, blessed the air. A porter near the engine yanked two young boys off the cowcatcher, handed one to a conductor, and lifted the other up by the seat of his pants. They ran back to a third-class car and shoved the boys through an open window. Serafina saw passengers standing in aisles, wedging themselves between cars, sitting on the roofs.