Worn Masks Read Online Free PDF

her Uncle Paul? What was he talking about?
    She tried to ask Aunt Maggie, but her shoulders were shuddering
and she said in a barely audible voice, “Oh, hush, hush. Stata gitt .”
Mary Grace decided Uncle Paul was trying to get a message to her. Mary Grace
closed her eyes, thought about the details of the attic room, pictures that
were carved in her mind’s eye.
     
     
    The Attic
    She would never be able to explain what happened next, and why when she visited the attic later that
eve ning, sat on the floor against the door thinking about the man they
had seen, it was the first time she noticed the box. She would say she never
could decide if that box had always been there and that day she was directed to
it, or if Aunt Maggie had somehow, between the time of the man’s passing on the street and when she had din ner with
her parents, brought that box there. 
    Mary Grace never sat on the cot. She wasn’t sure if it would
squeak or even collapse, as slight as it seemed. She always sat on the floor,
and that day, she sat against the door facing the bed. With the late sun coming
through the window at just the right angle, the light drew her eyes to the
object under the back leg of the cot. She crawled over and reached under to
find a tin box. 
    Mary Grace found in the box a faded photograph
of Uncle Paul in uniform together with a lady, squinting and smiling under a
feathery hat, standing in front of a stone church. There was a commendation for saving
the life of Rocco Santelli, and a yellowed ar ticle
talking about the ice floating on the
East River that late Janu ary day.
There was also an identification badge for the Department of Sanitation, a pocket
watch, and two notebooks of drawings inscribed in faded blue ink: by Paul
Maschere per mia bella , and by Paul Maschere per le due mie belle .”
There were pictures of the lady, the church, fields, the attic room, the tiled
bathroom, a frozen river, and of Mary Grace’s face and eyes.
    She held the books tight against her chest, the stale air in the
attic keeping everything still and heavy. She sat there until they were banging
on the bathroom door. “Unlock this door! What are you doing? Come out of
there.” She put everything back in the box, tucked it back under the cot, and
quietly descended the attic stairs.

 
    Daddy
    Chapter 7
     
    “GO BACK TO sleep,” Mom called.
    “I’m thirsty.”
    “Go back to sleep.”
    “What’s the matter?” Dad mumbled.
    “Nothing,” Mary Grace whispered.
    “Now you woke up your father. Just go back to sleep,” Mom said.
    “What’s wrong with the bambina ?”
    “Daddy, I had a bad dream.  I’m thirsty.”
    “Spoilin’ her, you’re always spoilin’ her.”
    Dad brought her water and as Mary Grace sat up, he placed her
hands around the cup. She felt the coolness of the ceramic mug, and then his
large warm hand on top of hers, guiding the water to her mouth. With his other
hand he pushed her hair back away from her eyes.
    “You better take her to the bathroom before she has an accident.”
    “What?”
    “The bathroom,” Mom said.
    Mary Grace tugged on his arm.
    He put on her slippers. “ An-di-amo . Let’s go.” Her father
stretched the word out slowly.
    He unlocked the kitchen door and led her down the hall to the
bathroom, put on the light, and pulled the door partially closed. “I’ll wait.”
    He went back down the hall, took the cigarettes out from behind
the plant, lit up, and stood at the top of the stairs.
    The toilet flushed. “Wash your hands.”
    The water turned off. “Shut the light.”
    Mary Grace walked toward him, as he put the
cigarette out in the dirt around the plant, and he smiled at her sleepy face.
He guided her past the open stairway back into the kitchen and relocked the
door. He brought her into the living room, tucked her in on the couch turned
bed. Again, his hand swept across her forehead pushing the hair back, patting
the top of her head. “Go to sleep now, bella. ”
    She