Taking Tuscany (16 page)

“I believe this was the first book published about the Holocaust, printed two years after the war ended. It was Anne's dream to publish a book, so her father made sure he fulfilled that dream for her. I think this may help you to see your life here in a little different light.”

I'm sure it will.
I hope I can handle it a little better at age fourteen than I did at age ten. Maybe I'll have better luck with the Italian version.

The minute I get home, I run up to my tower, hang out my handmade
Do Not Disturb the Princess
sign, climb under my covers, and flip on my reading lamp. Nothing beats a good book in bed.

15

Punto di Prospettiva

(A Bit of Perspective)

“What on earth is that kid reading?” Mama asks Daddy.
As if I can't hear her just because I have my head stuck in a book.
Lying across the room by the fire, I'm completely immersed in the tail end of
Anne Frank.

“Why do you ask?” Daddy replies.

“I just asked her if she wanted some warm
biscotti
, and she looked at me with hollow eyes, and asked, ‘How can you be so insensitive?'”

I admit I'm kind of strange that way. When I read a book, I become the main character. After spending three days straight as Anne Frank, I feel like I have spent the past two years in the secret annex and was just betrayed and sent off to die in a Nazi concentration camp. Anne and her sister, Margo, were sent to Bergen-Belsen, where they both died from typhus two weeks before the camp was liberated. She was only a year older than me when she died.

How on God's green earth could this have happened—especially to children?
“How could so many people be so evil and stupid all at the same time?”

I didn't realize I'd said it out loud until Daddy says, “A. J., what
are
you reading?”

“
The Diary of Anne Frank
.”

Mama and Daddy exchange glances. “That explains it,” Mama says.

“Didn't we deal with this book once before, honey?” Daddy says. “You sure you can handle it?”

“The Franks are the ones who had to
handle
it
.
At this point I should at least be able to handle reading about it.”

Mama has the furrowed-brow feature on her forehead turned on high. They know how anything involving suffering affects me. I'm bad enough with animals, let alone people. Not only did Mama take away books like
Anne Frank
, she also canceled my subscription to
Born Free
magazine
because I couldn't stop crying over photos of endangered animals—especially the white tiger cubs. As soon as I'd get over one issue, the next one would arrive in the mail.

By the time Mama canceled, I had already signed up to go to Antarctica to help save baby seals. I figured it was a creative way to get out of Italy. Save the seals and save A. J.—a dual cause. They called Daddy for his charge-card number to help fund the trip. He didn't quite catch their vision. But I sure caught his.

“A. J., didn't you say you had some arithmetic homework to finish tonight?”

“Oh, Mama, how can you expect me to even think about arithmetic problems when Anne Frank just died? Is it really important that I know what time the train will arrive in Florence if it leaves Rome at five in the morning traveling at sixty kilometers per hour?”

“It matters if you're the one on the train, or the one picking up the passenger. It will also matter when your report card comes out. So hop to it, kiddo.”

Somehow my mother's concern for me is not working in my favor this time.

One hour of grueling arithmetic problems later, Mama calls me to dinner. After finishing
Anne Frank
, I'm wondering why Sister Aggie had me read this. She tells me to think only on good things, then hands me a book about an evil madman who put innocent people through hell on earth. What was she thinking?

On my way down to dinner, it strikes me that this old castle feels unusually grand and spacious. Aromas of onions and garlic lure me to the table, where I take my seat, and am surrounded by food
, glorious
food
.
All prepared by loving hands. “Greetings, family. Please pass the eggplant.”

Mama looks over, surprised. She knows I never eat eggplant.

I shovel in a big mouthful. “
Mmm-mm-mm
.”

Everyone's looking at me. “What's with her?” J. R. asks.

“She's been reading
The Diary of Anne Frank
,” Mama says.

“Oh. That explains it.”

After supper. Wide awake under my soft, warm blankets. Just lying here, philosopholizing
.
I have a bed. I have a soft, warm, cushy bed—with blankets. I have my own room—in a castle, for Pete's sake. And I am with my family … all safe and warm in our big fat castle. Even my stomach is full and happy
… hold on. I get it.
I finally get what Sister Aggie is up to. Reverse psychology. How brilliant. I need to write about this. I flip on my table lamp and grab my journal.

Journal Entry: Revelations

I feel exactly like George Bailey at the end of “It's a Wonderful Life.” Everything I've been whining about, I bet Anne Frank would be grateful for. Compared to Anne, I have no problems. I have everything. And I'm still here.

I'm suddenly thankful to just be alive. Is not life itself enough? Oh, to be truly free from want and greed. In one spine-tingling instant—I am changed. Sister Aggie is a genius. Death to the black dog. The white dog lives!

My door suddenly flies open. A half-eaten bag of M&M's come sailing through my room and hits the floor. “Here's what's left of that care package you got from Rosa,” Dino yells from the hallway. I hear Benji giggling beside him.

“You little creeps—those are
mine
—you had
no right
coming into my room and taking my candy! This is
my
tower—
keep out
!”

I run out into the hall as Dino and Benji slide down the spiral banister, laughing their heads off. “Tell Rosa thanks!” Dino yells.

“You spaz—you owe me for this! You can't even get M&M's in Italy! You're probably the one who kiped my Bee Gees tape that I can't find either … stay out of my
stuff!”

I storm back in my room, slam my door, and step on the Bee Gees tape lying on my floor. “Great, now it's cracked
.
” It's all their fault.

Oops.
Black dog is on the loose …

After school I stop by the convent to return
Anne Frank
to Sister Aggie. She comes out to greet me in the
atrio.
“
Benvenuto,
Angelina.” Welcome.

I hand her the book and thank her for loaning it to me.

“Finished already?” She looks surprised.

“I read it fast, so I could figure out what was in there that you thought might help me.”

“And what did you find?”

“Perspective.”

We awoke this morning to snow. I can't believe it. So much snow dumped on us overnight that school is canceled—
Urrà
! Hooray! The boys and I are running all over the castle gathering up snow saucers, sleds, hats, and gloves. We're going to get out there and make the most of this while it lasts. I told my brothers, “If you help me find the sleds, I'll take you guys to a really steep hill with a drain ditch full of ice beneath the snow.” That's all it took to get them into gear.

Gathering up the goods, the four of us head out, caravan style, dragging our saucers and sleds behind us. We've piled extra gloves, scarves, sandwiches, and a thermos of hot chocolate on top—enough food and equipment to last us until noon anyway. The snow is coming down in fine form as we trudge along the country road, and it does not look like it will let up anytime soon—
hallelujah!

As we crest the hill, it becomes clear we are not the only ones with this brilliant idea. Everyone who lives on our hill has shown up, including J. R.'s sweetheart, Celeste; Benji's buddy Christiana; and my friends, Dominic, Dario, and Bianca. And then … there's Annalisa, in all her pink glory, matching head to toe. She must have run out and bought herself a new snowsuit the minute the weather report hit yesterday. It's the white fur boots that kill me—I think they're real bunny boots, or some animal that could have used its fur more than Annalisa. To think it had to give its life just to keep her royal toes warm … I don't even want to think about it. On the other hand, I'm standing here in my fake raccoon hat with a tail, looking like Davy Crockett. Like Mama says, “It takes all kinds to make the world go round.”

“Angelina!” Bianca welcomes me with a cheerful shout, Dominic welcomes me with a snowball, and Annalisa doesn't welcome me at all.

“Bianca!” We twirl in circles, rejoicing in the snow together. Once my head stops spinning, I return the snowball greeting to Dominic, and whomp him on the back—with a lightly packed snowball.

The boys are already busy building a snow jump. Leave it to the male gender to turn everything into a sporting competition. As they're piling snow on the jump, they're rattling off the rules and deciding on the prize for the longest sled jumper. This could get pretty serious by day's end.

The snow jump comes right at the bottom of the steep ice slide. J. R. talks Benji into testing the run for us, which he feels honored to do, of course. J. R. gives him a good, hard shove-off and sends him sailing. Benji is so light he flies down the hill like a blur. Hitting the jump, he shoots into the air and comes to a hard splat a good distance away in the field. It takes him a minute to breathe again, and it's a relief to see that he is, in fact, still breathing.

When it comes to my turn, Dominic says he'll be waiting at the bottom in case I need rescuing, and he heads down the slide before me. As soon as Annalisa catches this, she struts over and looks at me with that sappy sweet smile of hers. “Hey, Angelina, let's go double.”

Double … double …?
Oh, yes, the last time I went double was on an inner tube at the Potholes with Cousin Stacy … in her heavier days … and had the wind knocked out of me … nearly drowned …

“I'm scared to go alone, Angelina.”

Yeah. I trust you about as far as I can throw you.
“Um, s-sure, okay.” I momentarily hear the scarecrow's song from
Wizard of Oz
playing in my head: “If I Only Had a Brain.”

“I'll go in front,” she says, and plops herself down on my sled.

Because you're so scared, right? That makes sense.

Dominic signals from below that he's ready for us. I hope he's ready to catch the pink snow queen, 'cause that seems to be her aim here.

“Here we come!” Annalisa yells.

J. R. gives us a shove-off and whispers, “Have fun” to me.

I can't see a thing, thanks to Annalisa's pink fur hat, but I do know that we are ripping down the hill so fast there are probably sparks shooting out from under us. Before I know what's happening we hit a bump and Annalisa goes flying off. I hit the jump alone and sail right past Dominic—the sled goes to the right, and I fly to the left—landing in the field … on my arm … and hear a crunch … I feel nauseous and dizzy …

Dominic starts over to me. I'm trying not to cry, but it really hurts. Fighting back tears and forcing a smile, I hear a horrendous howl from up on the slope …

“Ouwww—my ankle, my ankle—help, Dominic—
help
!”