The Coming of Fabrizze: A Novel (Black Squirrel Books) by Raymond Decapite

Mendone. “Wine enriches the blood. Wine is good for the skin.”
    â€œWine puts a certain light in the eyes,” said Fabrizze.
    â€œIs it good for the lungs?” said Grace. “The baby cries out when I take him in the fresh air.”
    â€œWine keeps the teeth clean,” said Mendone.
    â€œAnd it loosens the tongue,” said Grace.
    â€œBut then it relieves the heart,” said Fabrizze.
    â€œAnd fills our pockets,” said Mendone.
    Profits were mounting. Fabrizze made more money in the basement than on the railroad. Along with it came a fair share of disruption in the house. Part of the railroad gang followed Fabrizze home in the afternoon to take a glass with him. They lingered in the cool basement. Now and again they asked Fabrizze to read from the daily paper. They sipped wine and made comments on the news.
    â€œThere’s a shock,” Cardino would say.
    â€œListen for another,” said Rumbone.
    Fabrizze went on reading.
    â€œThere it is,” said Gritti.
    â€œEnough of that,” said Cardino. “Turn the page.”
    â€œHere is news,” said Fabrizze. “It’s time for supper.”
    â€œOne more glass,” said Gritti.
    â€œYour wife is waiting,” said Fabrizze.
    â€œThere’s a shock,” said Rumbone.
    Day and night there were customers in the house. The tailor Salupo planted himself in the corner and waited for customers of his own. A measuring tape was round his neck. Rainbow garters choked his sleeves. He kept giving the garters to children. He winked and beckoned when he saw a child. Suddenly he was whispering of a secret thing. He whispered until the child was cross-eyed with wonder and delight.
    â€œSit on my knee,” Salupo would say, softly. “I was watching for you. I was watching and waiting and when I saw you I said to myself, ‘Look, look, look: here’s the little boy with brown hair: tell him the secret!’ Listen, listen, listen. Put your ear closer and closer. Have you heard about the box hidden up in my attic? Listen then. Up in the corner of the closet in the attic is a box, a big box, a big red box, a box bigger than a little boy with brown hair just like you. And the box is full, the big box is loaded up, the big red box is spilling over with toys, toys, toys. Look with me in the box, the big box, the big red box. Look, look. Bouncing balls and yellow balloons. Red wagons and spinning tops. Puppies and clowns and horns to blow. A long black train with smoke and a whistle. Silver bells and a boat with a sail. A can of paint and a bottle of glue. Are you listening? Tell your mother to bring you to the closet in the attic. I’ll be waiting there with the big red box. Look again. A rocking horse and a big bass drum. Hammers and nails and wooden spoons. Chocolate cookies and rubber bands. Pails and wheels and marching soldiers. Come closer. I’ll give you this garter from my sleeve. Think of me in the closet of the attic with the big red box of toys, toys, toys. I’ll be waiting for you. It’s a secret thing. Shake hands on it.”
    Often Salupo came upstairs to talk with Grace and play with the baby. He would thread imaginary needles and measure Paul for a suit and sew it up on the spot.
    â€œHow he watches me,” he said. “Look at that smile. I wish I could sew his trouble in a sack and drop the sack in the sea.”
    â€œAs long as he has no more than his share,” said Grace.
    â€œNext year I’ll make a suit for him,” said Salupo. “Blue as his eyes. Running through it will be a stitch of gold to match his hair. And let me design a dress for you. I have this brown cloth. Perfect, perfect. And why doesn’t Fabrizze come to me? I can do a remarkable thing for him.”
    The lovely look of Grace and the child sent Salupo back downstairs for more wine. He drank and drank and brooded over the fact that he had never married. He staggered round