The Devil is Recruiting a New Servant (Maria Melillo Jones)

In the year two thousand and two, I worked as a production Supervisor in the automotive industry here in London.

I had the best crew. A group of thirty hardworking and caring people. Four good Team Leaders and the best maintenance Millwright.  I am going to call him Tom to protect his identity.

I still picture Tom walking down the hallway with a cup of coffee in one hand, his tool belt in the other, either whistling or humming a tune. It didn’t matter how busy he was; he kept singing like a robin. I used to tell him he was a born cheerleader.

There were days when multiple machines broke down all at once. The disarray of the breakdown could not burn the passion Tom had for his job. Never once lost his cool. He assessed the problem with a big grin on his face, prioritized it according to our schedule. 

He never missed a day of work or refused overtime. When my department wasn’t running during the weekend, Tom usually volunteered to help the other departments in the plant. 

Tom and the area team leader Angela had a good working relationship. When Angela became frustrated with a machine set up, she would go and ask Tom for advice. In multiple occasions I saw Tom training Angela while struggling   with new set ups and breakdowns. Tom was not afraid or jealous in sharing his knowledge, he did it voluntarily and pleasantly. They made a powerful team, the department was thriving

Things were good until Tom and Angela became romantically involved. The romance between them both blossomed, to the point that Tom asked Angela to move in with him in his respectful little house. They seemed to be a beautiful couple, complementing each other in every way.

The good times and the happiness did not last very long.

During working hours, I noticed a change in their behaviour. Angela was constantly nagging Tom. The jolly Tom was no longer cheery.  Upon returning from lunching together Tom expression reflected a different personality, as though something was weighing him down. 

Little arguments were noticeable between Tom and Angela. I assumed it was work-related. With time even my team began question their arguments, the expression on their faces and body language come across as being personal.

As the months passed since they moved in together Tom showed more and more sign of stress and fatigue. His eyes sunk into his skull, and dark circles were noticeably from a distance. It was as though a cloudy sky had swallowed him, draining the light from his eyes and smile. The jolly robin wasn’t singing anymore.

First there were late days which turned into missing days.

Work became a battlefield without Tom. No one knew the job as well as he did. I missed his knowledge and his patience, to the point of regretting going to work. Without saying it out loud, I blamed the woman in his life. I asked myself in search of clarity. “What did you do to Tom, Angela.”

A few weeks passed with Tom not reporting for work. I got a call from the Human Resource department to give me a heads up. “Tom is going on an extended sick leave,” she said. At this point, it was me who changed colour. I went from hopeful to bitter disappointment, nauseated and unprepared for the negative news.

The H.R. department and the maintenance manager assigned me a new Millwright replacement. He was a trainee. My stress level went over the roof in the following weeks. I exploded like a volcano, resenting my job even more. The department downtime was outrageous. 

Most of my department employees were wondering about Tom’s wellbeing and when his return would be. On the other side of the production plant rumours were floating from person to person, saying that Tom had hepatitis C. The news shocked us all, leaving everyone with an opinion of their own, assuming the worst. It seemed that the same people that once loved and respected Tom created a criminal case against him.

One Sunday afternoon, I received a call from Michela, my other team leader and Angela’s best friend.

“Tom is dead,” she said abruptly. 

My jaw dropped. I think that for a second, my heart stopped beating. The news left me numb and speechless. Regaining my composure, I asked what happened.

” He shot himself,” she said.

I was in shock and disbelief that Tom, our jolly robin, was capable of doing that horrible act to himself. My friend had just taken his own life.

Michela asked if she and Angela could come over to my house while the cleaning crew was picking parts of my friend’s brain off the walls and couch. The visit from the girls explained the arguments Tom and Angela were having. The missing days, most of all, the sadness.  

Tom was at his best while injecting heroin.

During the time of Angela and Tom living together, Angela discovered the real Tom, the addict. She loved and cared for him deeply, pleading with Tom to stop using. 

Angela was unaware of how many demons Tom was fighting. The addiction, the pain from hepatitis C. The loss of respect from all his peers and his own family. The heartache he had caused Angela while living together. 

Unable to cope with his guilt, Tom retrieved his gun from its hiding place, sat on the sofa, placed the barrel in his mouth. One-click. Boom.

The shot vibrating each room of the tiny house. Blood and brain are all over the couch, pillows and walls. It is like a clip out of a horror movie. Has the devil recruited a new servant?

Today I just hope and pray that Tom has found peace in the heavens, and he is still singing and whistling like a robin. 

R.I.P., my friend.

The Joy of Travelling (Maria Melillo Jones)

Travelling comes with pros and cons. The much-needed time off. Those unique places you have yearned to visit. 

Some of us pack the bare essentials. I fall into the category of packing everything, even the kitchen sink if I could. My logic is why buy it if I already own it. Perhaps it is not logical, more like my own stupidity.

 My suitcases are always packed to the maximum weight, leaving only a few ounces to spare.

Next time I travel, I’ll pack lightly, repeating to myself after each trip. What a joke; until today, I have not yet learned a lesson. At the airport, I find myself dragging around two suitcases and a purse. The feeling of a donkey overloaded suddenly creates a picture in my mind.

Standing in the long line at the airport, I look at myself in disbelief to have done it again. I push one suitcase with a foot while dragging along the other.

I finally reach the airline counter, droplets of sweat are overcoming my body with fear of my suitcases been overweight.  The luggage has finally made it through the conveyor belt without penalty.  A deep breath of relief overcomes the fear.

” I did it,” Repeating to myself with enthusiasm and pride. Until the next trip, I suppose.

Coming back from Italy is not different. When I see an object costing less than what I would pay in Canada, I’ll buy it. I saved myself a few dollars.

Last year while in Italy, I bought cheese every time I went to the market, not thinking about its weight. By the time I began packing to return home, my suitcase was thirty pounds overweight.

I had a big dilemma, leaving my clothes behind or the cheese. I couldn’t come to a compromise.

After a few days of thinking, I decided to buy a new suitcase.

The suitcase cost me about one hundred and twenty Euros. At the airport, I had to pay an additional hundred euros for extra luggage. 

Was all that cheese worth my pain and suffering? Hell ya!

 Adding the cheese bought in Italy to my food, is like being home.

My mouth explodes with fireworks.  The saltiness, the creamy milk, and that tad of bitterness create a perfect marriage, called cheese, playing a harmonious dance on my tongue.

 Pasta in my house, it’s music in the heavens, immersed in cured buffalo ricotta and my homemade tomato sauce. 

Boarding a plane is a joke, waiting for hours. When the boarding is finally open, everyone stands up, resembling a herd of cows entering the barnyard. Most people move with the flow while others push themselves through to get ahead. Everyone gets called by the first letter of their last name. By the time my turn arrives, I find myself the last one in line due to my last name, starting with the letter J. I push myself through the overpacked aisles, dragging the hand luggage and an overstuffed purse.

The struggle begins the minute I need to get into my seat. The luggage spot above my seat has being taken by some inconsiderate individual a few rows down.

“How dare you come and invade my space; I paid for this spot, you wild ass.”

The reason for rushing ahead suddenly makes sense. I squeeze myself into the tiny 18-inch seat, feeling like a stuffed sausage. With no room to move, more like a planted tree trunk.

Flying for nine to ten hours straight with my ass cheeks planted in one spot is cruelty.

Hardly any room to stretch my feet, never mind eating.  I have dreams of seeing many places, but the nightmare of boarding a plane takes a vacation to another level. 

Now I have a clear vision of how animals feel being caged and shoved into small places.

I feel for them deeply.

Years ago, I travelled in first class. I had   a family emergency back in Italy; there were no seats left in second class; they decided to put me with the diplomats. My seat was a sofa chair, soft and comfortable; I sunk into the comfy chair like your head sinks into a pillow. I had plenty of space in front of my feet and my side. I could probably fit another person beside me.  First-class is the way to travel.

Just imagine yourself having to toot and stuck by a window seat. Either you clench your butt checks very hard with the hope that nothing will escape, not even a tiny squeal or try to make it to the bathroom.

In many cases, you will never make it to the bathroom without leaving a trail of foul odours along your way.

Oh the joy of travelling.

The Big Station Wagon (Maria Melillo Jones)

The big station wagon packed with small children stopped along the side of a country road.

A loud and ruthless voice yells, “Out you go all of you. This time make damn sure you pee. I don’t want to waste precious time.”

A bunch of children jumped out of the wagon, running like mice through the bushes looking for cover. The oldest was nine; her name was Margareth.

She was limping due to spina bifida; a congenital disability with which she was born.  “Let’s go, lazy one; I don’t have all day.” yells the big woman. “You are always the laziest of them all, aren’t you, Margaret?”

It was not true at all. Margareth could hardly walk; that harsh and loud voice made it so much worse for her.  The other children were quick and took the bushes closer to the road, Margareth tripped on a tree root along the ground.  Limping more, she found a bunch of bushes further into the woods.

She had just squatted down to pee when she heard her name called again.

“Margareth! Margareth! Damn you.” The big woman shouted again.

Terrified she lost control of her urine and dribbled all over her legs and stockings. Not quite finished she pulled up her panties and her stockings dirty from the fall and, limping, ran towards the station wagon.

“You are going to cost me my job, you dumb girl. You will never be adopted. You have dirtied yourself.” With anger, Mrs. Luis grabbed Margareth’s tiny frame with the back of her dress and threw her in the car.

The big woman, Mrs. Luis, was the driver for an independent foster home located a few hours away from the main orphanage. Today was a big day for the children. The lucky ones would be adopted, the not so fortunate, well, God has their destiny in his hands.

The heated station wagon began to smell of urine. The rest of the children made fun of her.

“Mrs. Luis, she smells. She smells.”

“She is gross.” yelled Mrs. Luis.

Mrs. Luis had taken a dislike to Margareth because of her disability, and perhaps she had no patience to be kind or courteous to people in general, or specifically, to Margareth.

Arriving at the orphanage, Mrs. Luis lined up all the children putting the older children at the back. People had come from all over the state, moms and dads with the desire to be parents to an unfortunate child.

Each set of parents approached a child with caution and love and they began to talk to the kids.  A young couple, married for a few years, noticed a beautiful girl with long blond hair, sea-blue eyes and the skin of a porcelain doll standing alone against the wall.

“What is your name, Gorgeous?” the woman asked.

“Margareth, maam.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“Thank you, maam.”

They talked for a while and Margareth explained her disability to the couple. Meanwhile Mrs., Luis was busy interacting with the management of the orphanage.

Spotting the young couple walking towards the office holding hands with Margareth, she went after them.

“What are you doing?”

“We are going to adopt Margareth, aren’t we sweetie?”

“You can’t do that. She is stupid. See the way she walks. Do you want to adopt a handicapped child?”

The adopting mother-to-be looked at Mrs. Luis in repulsion

“I don’t see any disabilities. Do you, hon?” Looking straight at her spouse, “I see a beautiful and intelligent young girl that explained to us the reason she was born this way. Do you know what causes spina bifida?” Her sharp eyes focused on Mrs. Luis’s.

Mrs. Luis mumbles a bit, “Mmm, mm, no,”

“Don’t you dare call Margareth dummy? You should love every child the same, no matter the colour, disabilities, religion, or country.”

The rest of the parents intrigued by the argument, gathered around, curious. As the conversation came to an end, they clapped for Margareth’s protector.

Mrs. Luis lost her job – divine retribution. The only job she could find was scooping dog poop at a kennel. The majority of dogs didn’t like her either. They were always growling and barking at her, the same treatment she gave to young Margareth.

Normandy Invasion 1944 D-Day (Maria Melillo Jones)

A thunderstorm in the middle of the night awoke Mr. Liam Bonnet screaming, “They are coming, they are coming, run for cover.”

Reaching for his cane on the side of the bed he slowly crawled under it.

With great patience, his loving wife got up to comfort him, trying to get Mr. Bonnet to return to bed.

Grabbing her ankle, he whispered, “Private come down here. It’s safer here.”

“What’s coming, Liam?”

“The fighter jets, the bombers, don’t you hear them?”

“It’s only a storm dear, give me your hand and come out, please.”

“For you, it’s a storm. For me it’s a war. If you don’t remember, Private, then you must be dead.”

“OK, Sergeant,” said his wife.  “Make some room for me, I’m coming in.”

Mrs. Bonnet slid herself under the bed beside him pretending to be Private Matis Legrand.

“Where’s your rifle?  How are you supposedly going to kill the enemy, Private?”

“I left it in my bunker, Sir.”

“Your rifle is your life; it goes where you go.  You go to take a piss the rifle comes with you; you never know when you’ll get surprised.”

“Yes, Sir!”  Responded Legrand to her higher-ranked commander.

The storm went on for hours.  The two were quietly on a stand still looking for the enemy on the beaches of Normandy.

“Legrand, do you see any Germans yet?”

“No, Sergeant, they are just dropping bombs like crazy.”

Mr. Liam Bonnet was a front-line Sergeant of an all-terrain tank combat unit.  He had served his country with pride in the Second World War. The photos in the family room with Sergeant Bonnet embellished with medals and stripes, tell the story.

As the thunderstorm subsides the two soldiers come out from their pretend foxhole.

The whistle of the teakettle startled the Sergeant.  He began to shoot with his cane in hand, running for cover behind the sofa, pointing his rifle with precision and shooting in every direction.

“I got you, dirty German, get out of my country.”

As his wife passed by, he shoots her multiple times remaining hidden and rolling behind the sofa, not wanting the enemy to see him.

“Liam, would you like some tea dear?”

Whispering, he replied, “Shhhhh, no one is here.”

Suddenly the phone rang.

“Hello Mom.  How’s father today?”

“Not a good day dear, we played war again.”

“Mom, you do know that PTSD is a major mental stress disorder.”

“Yes, and your Dad witnessed and experienced a traumatic event on D-Day when more than 425,000 allied and German troops were killed, wounded or went missing.”

“You are a patient and loving woman.  Would you like me to stop by?”

“Yes, Roger.  Since the sun is out it would be nice if all three of us could go for a drive.”

During the drive, the Sergeant was sound asleep and the sunshine penetrating the car window cuddled Mr. Bonnet like a warm blanket.

They got out of the car and walked the sandy, peaceful beach of Normandy. The same place that once was covered with dead bodies and body parts with the blood of enemies and friends colouring the crystal blue water bright red everywhere.

The Sergeant hugged his wife and son and declared, “I remember, I remember it all. It happened right here.”

The three stood still admiring the foamy waves rolling and playing with each other.

As tears streamed down Roger’s face, he whispered, “Yes father, here is where we lost you.”

Christmas Back in My Time (Maria Melillo Jones)

The Christmas Novena began in the middle of December.  Although harsh, several of us young kids got up just before 5 a.m. and went to church.

The cold mountain air pinched my cheeks and took my breath away.  When I inhaled through my nose, my nostrils would stick together.  I wrapped a scarf around my mouth and nose.  As I walked, seeing my breath, I pretended I was smoking a cigarette.  The condensation in the chilled air not only affected my breathing but bones as well.

Everything around us kids was innocent, but the mischievousness in our developing minds was not. The mass was monotonous, but the spirit of Christmas influenced us to attend, knowing our families were still sleeping.  We made plans the night before to meet by the church at quarter to five.

My father would never allow me to leave the house at such an early hour.

Since I took religion classes, I was able to convince him. I came up with a little fib.   Our priest demanded we attend the Christmas Novena to help us get a good mark in religion, and with our first communion blessing.

Little did he know.

My girlfriends and I sat behind a pew of old ladies praying the Rosary. We were too young to know the Rosary, but we said a few Our Fathers, and Hail Mary’s.

As they kept going, we sat silently. The old ladies, all wore the same brown square shawls with long fringe resembling dreadlocks.  The shawls were folded in a triangle.  It covered most of their bust and waist, and from what I heard it kept them very warm. My grandmother also had one.

As we sat quietly, we all had the same idea.  We began tying the fringe of the shawls from one lady to the other, down the entire pew.  It was priceless watching them trying to come out of their seats — some exiting towards the right the rest towards the left. The surprised look on their faces, as they were pulling against each other.  Suddenly all their shawls fell on the church floor.   Some were upset, and some took it with a good laugh and much patience, untying the dreadlocked fringes. As we looked from afar laughing like silly girls.

One of the other things that attracted us to church was the massive Nativity scene.  It was an entire village with big mountains, houses, a blacksmith. All kinds of animals, and figurines. They all had a purpose. If you watched it long enough the Nativity Scene started to come to life. The empty cave waiting for the arrival of our lord and savior.

I could stay there for hours, admiring it and use my imagination to create the saga of Jesus.

What made Christmas special was my Uncle Rosario, who could always put a smile on our faces. Artificial Pine trees were rare in houses of poor people, my uncle would cut down a Lucina tree, bring it home and before we all knew, it became a beautiful Christmas tree. It filled the house with the fresh scent of the Mountains.

We decorated it with candies, chocolate kisses, mandarins, and strings of popcorn that we helped make. Now no longer bare, it was a beautiful and humble Christmas tree.

My uncle had four sons, and I was his only niece in town.  Uncle Rosario told us not to touch the ornaments until after Christmas.  The aroma of the mandarins circulated the house teasing us.

We resisted the first day, after that, the cheating began.  My oldest cousin asked what I would like.  I chirped out a chocolate kiss.  All of the boys took something as well.

“That’s way too many decorations off the tree, yells my oldest cousin.  Papa is going to notice.”

One of the boys came up with a brilliant idea to replace the candy. Fill the wrappers with old chewing gum.

There we were the five masterminds, sitting by the fireplace, chewing gum like little mules, to fill the empty foils.  We shaped the wrapping as perfect as possible and placed them towards the back of the tree. It worked like a charm.

Little by little even the popcorn garland was getting skimpy, which made my uncle suspicious.  One day he gathered us around the tree and asked if we had noticed a mouse eating the popcorn.

I stayed silent as the boys looked at each other. The middle one finally spoke up.

“Now that you mention it, Papa, we did hear some noises last night; It could have been a mouse, or two.”

My uncle had a big smile on his face not able to bring himself to laugh, but his grin said it all.

A Merry Christmas to you all.

The Kiss (Maria Melillo Jones)

My unconscious body is overwhelmed with feelings of emotions,

dreams that tempt the mind.

A park bench, along the river pathway, welcomes me to sit with my beloved.

Pleasantly companionable, the river floats gracefully as the sun picks through a portrait foliage of fall.

His hand in mine, the desire for him to kiss my pleasurable lips tormented my mind.

“Do I launch myself into his embrace,

Surprising his views of me,

Or do I wait for him to pull me tight, towards his desirable lips,

With eyes penetrating my soul to the deepest end of our passion?”

The Painted Smile (Maria Melillo Jones)

The painted smile on his face was abruptly wiped away when he saw his best friend kissing his girlfriend.  Through the double panel glass doors, he sees all three of them resembling a perfect family having a quick glance at his best friend holding his newborn baby girl.

Enraged, and heartbroken he continues to watch the ungrateful scene.  What a fool I have been in believing that she loved me, or that she was loyal to me while I was away serving our country.  I don’t even know if Isabella is my daughter.

He walks into the room with a teddy bear and flowers in his hand.  His girlfriend and his best friend are surprised and shocked by his presence.

“Aren’t you supposed to work today?” she asks.

“Wouldn’t you like that.”

Throwing the flowers in her face he asks, “Is that his child?  Tell me?”

Her head tilted down.  She is not looking at him or responding.

“Damn it, answer me?”

He grabs her arm.   “Look me in the eye.”

She is still quiet with her eyes looking down.  It seems obvious to him now, Isabella is not his child.

He is furious and takes off in a hurry.  His red truck speeding down the road sending a blaze of dust behind it. A few meters away he can hear the whistle of a train coming. He put his foot on the gas and gives it all. His truck came to a skewed standstill only feet on the other side of the train track. He coughed and said, “Hell with Her.”

THE LAST GOODBYE (Maria Melillo Jones)

It wasn’t real.

It wasn’t real until the call arrived that David has passed on.

A little over a year he fought the beast* that took over his life.  David had the hunger to live, with every last breath he fought, a battle that was meant for him to win.  My beautiful Angel lost his fight on Family Day, February 20, 2011, eighteen days away from his 30th birthday.  Out of all the days, he lost his fight on family day. A day to remember, to celebrate with family, was he sending us a message? I wish I knew.

I let out a scream, a painful excruciating scream. it’s hard to describe the agony I felt.  My heart had just been shattered and ripped out of my chest. I felt as though the Devil had my heart in his own hand squeezing as hard as he could in his ugly fist,

I could not get a breath of air into me. Every so often I would take a big gulp, I had the feeling of drowning without being under water.  Just the thought of my sweet nephew not being around anymore, it was a raw, aching pain.

I brought up the little rascal from the time he turned one. I knew what he liked and what he didn’t. I remember all the funny things he did, and said, what made David laugh and what made him cry. He had a real sense of humor. Most of all he had a beautiful smile and a gentle personality. He loved to help and give. When he smiled, his entire soul smiled, his eyes sparkled like stars.

I was not able to hug him or tell him that Aunt Maria loved him before he passed, due to family quarrels. That was one of the saddest things besides his passing. I couldn’t let go of the thought that, perhaps, he didn’t believe in my love for him anymore. I wanted him to know that I loved him more than life. If I could switch lives with him, I would have done it in an instant, without thinking twice. My nephew, David, had a full life ahead of him, a life full of joy, laughter, and good deeds. A life with a family of his own, and a woman that loved him deeply.

Losing my nephew was the hardest thing that ever had happened to me, I cried for a month. I fell into the black hole called depression. It was dark and lonely, no one understood my desperation. I was alone. It was very hard climbing back out of that big dark hole. God stood beside me and reached for my hand. Little by little I found the courage.  I pushed myself a little at a time.   After many long waking nights, I admitted to myself that David was really gone.

Towards the last critical months of his life, I was no longer welcome near him, as per his mother and father (my brother) because of those family quarrels.  The day of the funeral I went to the church, to give my nephew my last goodbye. I began to cry the minute the casket entered the church. My heart was aching so much. I never experienced that kind of pain before, not even when my own father passed away. That pain was real, it was poignant.

As the casket passed by me, I followed it outside the doors. Seeing him taken away forever, I collapsed in the arms of my husband. Still thinking “it’s not real he will come home.” Something inside me didn’t want to accept his departure, I kept the hope alive, the hope to hear him knocking on my door and calling my name, “Hello Zia**, how are you?” he used to say.

After a couple of years, I came to realize and accept that my beautiful and handsome nephew was no longer walking among us. I know for sure he is helping in the Heavens. He is with me every day; the beautiful memories are locked, and will forever be cherished, within my heart.

“Rest in peace, my Angel – until we meet again.”

 

Beast* – Cancer

Zia** – Aunt