Sofia's Tune Read Online Free PDF Page B

speed up the pace and the singers followed. Then, when they got to the chorus, Antonio lunged into the song, hitting the keys with a syncopated rhythm he didn’t know he had in him.
    When the song ended he could hear the audience cheering and whistling. The quartet took several bows as Antonio packed up his things. The regular pianist had arrived. Even he applauded the performance. The four singers marched past them, out of breath.
    “Bravo,” Mac cried, handing Antonio his pay.
    He’d earned it, all right. Antonio glanced toward the door and thought about his dog. “No one came looking for me tonight, Mac?”
    “No one but your pooch.”
    “Thanks. You’d tell me, though, right? I mean if someone was here asking for me.”
    “I would. I owe ye that.”
    Antonio studied the manager’s expression. He seemed sincere. He thanked him and hurried out. Later, as Antonio and Luigi hurried home with scraps he’d gathered for Luigi from behind a restaurant on Grand, Antonio paused, glancing in the direction of Mulberry. Nicco had warned him not to go there, but if the men from that neighborhood knew more about Antonio’s father’s death, why shouldn’t he ask around?
    He closed his eyes as an unwelcome memory rushed back. His father’s body lying on the coroner’s gurney was as gruesome a sight as he ever hoped to see. A bullet had traveled through Ernesto Baggio’s head, an image that could not now be erased from Antonio’s mind. I’ll find out, Pap à . You had a reason to go to the Union that night, something you didn’t tell me, but whatever it is, you did not deserve what happened to you.
    Perhaps the only way to erase the horror in his head and remember Papà as he’d truly been, a hardworking, generous man, would be to find answers. It was up to him. Papà would have wanted Antonio to find justice…and peace.
    Antonio reached down and rubbed Luigi’s head before urging him on toward home. “We have a tough task ahead, Lu. At least I’ll have you with me to help charm folks.”
     

Chapter 4
    The next morning Sofia handed Papà a cup of coffee. “How is Mamma?”
    “Bad, so bad.”
    “Should I bring her a tray? I could boil an egg quickly.”
    “I do not think so.”
    “Did you talk to her? Did you tell her nothing has changed?” At least for Mamma. “This happened so long ago. What has made this worse?”
    “I do not know, Sofia. You better forget night school this time and fetch our doctor when you leave the factory.”
    “Can’t Gabriella?”
    He glared at her. “She has the children to look after. Do not argue, Sofia.”
    Gabriella tended the neighbor’s children while their mother worked. “I don’t see why she can’t just ask Signora Russo to watch—”
    Papà made grunting sounds, waving his hands about.
    Sofia swallowed a sour taste in her mouth. She knew she should obey. She had no choice, truly, but her respect for her parents was waning because they had treated her as a simpleton when all along they knew she missed her twin. She took a deep breath. Mamma needed her now despite it all. Sofia did not think their doctor—the healer from their village who lived in their building—could help. Perhaps she would also call on the priest.
    The mantel clock gonged. Sofia was late. She’d lost sleep thinking about the accident, wondering how exactly it had happened, if Serena had suffered. And she’d prayed to remember it, but she had not.
    Sofia paused on the stoop outside and turned to see her mother peering from the upstairs window, round-faced, white-streaked black hair pulled back in a bun, scowling. At least she’d gotten out of bed. Sofia raised her hand to wave. “I’ll bring home the roasted peanuts you like, Mamma!” Mamma’s face drew back from the lace curtain.
    She bumped into Joey as she turned in the direction of the trolley. “Off to work?” he asked, tipping his cap away from his forehead.
    “Of course. You?”
    He frowned. “I do my best, Sofia.”
    She