Chapter 3 – Two Weeks Later
MATTEO
TWO WEEKS LATER
I hold on to the pillow, my fingers clutching tight, trying to close my eyes and hide away, but I can’t. I’m stuck on this stupid mattress, on this stupid floor, in the basement. And it’s not even comfortable.
After my stomach started to feel better a few days ago, Agnelo brought me to the basement. He said I wasn’t allowed to sleep on a bed upstairs. The trash sleeps on the floor, he told me.
A guy with glasses has been checking on me. He told me he was a doctor and that I got very lucky. If this is what they call luck, then I don’t want it.
There’s also a lady named Ms. Greco who was making me take medicine for a lot of days. I forgot what it’s for, but she said I would feel better if I took it, so I did.
Moving around, I get up, and my stomach still hurts a little, but not like before. I yank my left hand too hard, the long silver chain pinching my wrist when I pick up the bucket I have to pee in. It’s gross. This place is gross.
Every day I’m still here, I try not to cry, but I can’t stop. I want my family. I want my brothers. Why haven’t they come for me? Could they really have given me away?
When I finish using the bucket, the chain clanks as I pull my pants up and sit back down.
A man comes to empty the bucket once a day, then he throws me in the shower.
It’s always cold. They don’t let me use warm water.
I shiver as I think about it, hating it every time.
But I go really fast and try to think about sunshine. It doesn’t help though.
I can’t even run away. There’s a key for the chain, a lock at my wrist, and the other end around the radiator.
At least I get food. Ms. Greco brings me down stuff on a tray.
She makes really yummy things, like Dad used to make.
She even quietly asks me what I like to eat, and sometimes she gets it for me.
There’s a girl who lives here too. I saw her once a few days ago, when they brought me down here from the bedroom upstairs. She was just staring as they dragged me to the first floor, like I was a monkey in a circus or something.
But I haven’t seen her around since then. She’s tiny with very light brown eyes and blonde hair. It’s so yellow and shiny, it reminds me of the sun.
But if she lives here, she must be bad too. Even the lady who brings me food must be bad. If she was nice, she would let me out.
How long will they keep me here? Maybe if I act nice, Agnelo will let me leave. But each day I’m here, I don’t think that’s true.
I think he’s going to keep me here.
Forever.
AIDA
Dad is home today. He’s usually gone during the afternoons, out with my uncles or doing work stuff, whatever that is.
He hasn’t let me see Matteo since they put him in the basement. I was hoping to say hi or something, maybe share some of my toys, if he likes dolls that is. I do have a police car that lights up. Maybe he’ll like that.
I asked my father if I could go see him down there, but he shot me down. I’m too scared to sneak without his permission. I don’t want to make him mad. He’s already always so angry.
Ms. Greco just finished making spaghetti and meatballs for lunch, putting some into a small bowl for Matteo. She picks up a tray, walking it out to the living room, where Dad sits, scrolling through channels, and I follow her out.
“I—” she says to him, clearing her throat, stopping at the back of the couch. “I’m going to bring lunch down to him, Agnelo, if that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, fine. Make sure you don’t give that shit too much.” He continues watching television.
“Daddy, may I please go with her?” I put on my sweetest puppy-dog face as I jog up to him, my hands in a praying position, my head slanted to the side. “Pretty please.”
“Didn’t I already tell you no when you asked yesterday?” His voice gets scary loud.
“Okay.” I drop my chin and pout, looking up, hoping he’ll feel bad and change his mind. “Sorry.”
“Hmm.” That one word has me lifting my head. His eyebrows do this thing, like he’s thinking about something. “You know what?” He smiles, and I instantly get excited because he doesn’t do that a lot. “I think you should go see him. He could use a friend.”
“Really?” I grin excitedly, and for the first time in a long time, I’m happy.
“Oh, yeah. And you know what else?”
“What?” I clap, practically jumping.
“From now on, it’ll be your job to bring him the food. You think you can do it all by yourself?”
“Of course, Daddy! Thank you! I’m not a baby!”
“You can start now.” He turns to Ms. Greco. “Give her the tray.”
“I—ahh.” She peers at the food. “Maybe she can carry the bowl first, then come back for the water bottle?”
“She can han—” he starts to snap.
“Don’t worry,” I interrupt them. “I can hold the water under my armpit and the bowl in my hands. I got it!” I quickly grab the bottle off the tray, tucking it under my arm, then pick up the bowl. “See?” I glance at them both. “Easy-peasy.”
Ms. Greco looks nervous, so I smile really big at her, with my teeth and all.
“Go, Aida,” he says. “You gotta clean up the kitchen after, so don’t waste time. In and out.”
“Yes, Daddy!” I rush toward the basement, down the hallway, to the last door on the right.
Ms. Greco comes after me, opening the door. “Please, honey. Be careful.”
“He’s just a little boy.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not scared of him.”
She sighs. “I don’t mean of Matteo.” Her hand lands on the top of my head and she glides it down my long hair. “We’ll clean after, then do some reading when you get back. Okay?”
“Sure, yeah. I gotta go. Bye!”
My feet land on the first step, and carefully, I go down each one, not wanting to drop the food, or Daddy will never let me do this again. I can’t believe he changed his mind in the first place. He must be in a really good mood, which doesn’t happen a lot. He even smiled at me. He never does that!
I don’t see Matteo at first, but when I climb down the last step, I finally do. “Oh no,” I gasp, the bowl rattling in my palms, the bottle almost slipping, but I tighten my arm around it, careful not to let anything dirty the floor. Inside, my heart, it beats like crazy.
He doesn’t see me, not at first. But I see everything. The long, silver chain he’s locked to. The dirty mattress with not even a sheet on it. A small, thin blanket bunched up at the end.
A black bucket is in the corner of the room, not too far from where he sleeps. What is that for? Why would my dad do this? My lower lip trembles. This is awful.
I have to help him. But how? What can I do?
His face snaps to mine. “Why are you down here?” Those big brown eyes appear angrier than the last time I saw him when they brought him kicking and screaming into the basement.
He saw me then, while I stood, scared, at the end of the stairs. I didn’t understand why my dad and uncles were moving him, but Dad said it’s safer for him there. I now see he lied. He always lies. I don’t know why I still believe him at all.
I want to run back up and ask how he could do this, but Ms. Greco told me to never question him. Don’t involve yourself in grown-up stuff, Aida. It’s not safe, she’d say. Maybe she’s right. Daddy would probably hurt me if I asked.
“I…” My feet tread closer. “I came to bring you food.”
“I don’t want your stupid food. I want to go home to my family.” He kicks his foot out against the tiles, his eyes darting to the floor.
“I’m sorry.” I near him some more, afraid to go any faster in case he gets mad.
“Who are you?” He looks back at me. “Why do you live here?”
Suddenly, I’m embarrassed to admit this is my home, that my father is the one doing this.
“Because… This is my house.” My voice grows small and croaky.
“So that bad man who locked me here, is who? Your dad?”
I nod, biting inside my bottom lip, my brows pinching tight.
“Well, he’s not a good person. And neither are you!”
“Hey!” I fight back. “I’m not like him.”
“Then let me go.” He rattles the chain on his left wrist.
“I can’t,” I whisper sadly. “I don’t even have the key for the lock. And even if I did, how could I get you out of here? My dad has a man out by the front door when he isn’t home.”
“Fine. Whatever. Just leave me alone.” He stops looking at me again, but I want him to. He has kind eyes. Other than Ms. Greco, I don’t have anyone who’s kind to me.
My throat aches as I edge a step backward. “I’m really sorry. I wish I could help you. I swear.” Tears fill my eyes. “I don’t know why my dad would do this to you. It’s not nice.”
“Okay. Okay. I believe you.” He huffs. “Just don’t cry.”
I nod, unable to stop the tears from falling.
“Maybe you can ask him to let me go?” He looks so hopeful, like I could actually do something, but I’m nothing. Not to my dad. Not to anyone.
“My father doesn’t like me very much.”
His eyes widen. “But you’re his daughter.”
I shrug. “I killed my mom, so he hates me.”
He frowns, but I continue anyway.
“When I was a baby, my mom died when she gave birth to me.”
“That’s not your fault.” He glares.
I shrug again, not knowing what to say.
“Your dad’s a real jerk. Whenever I get out of here, I’ll take you with me.”
“Really?” I breathe, afraid my dad is listening, the door still open.
“If you want to,” he whispers.
“I want to.” I let a tiny flicker of a smile line my lips and one makes it to his mouth too.
“Then it’s a deal. When I find a way out, you’ll come with me.”
“I will.”