Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7 Carmen stood there frozen, barely breathing. Tony called over to her through a yawn. "Hey, Carm. Are you pretending to be a statue or something?" All the kids were awake now. Four sets of big Grasso eyes were on her. "The Wicked Witch of the West cast a spell on her!" said Frankie.

The kids all giggled, and Carmen knew they expected her to join in. But she couldn't laugh right now. She pushed open the door to the kitchen—she had to get out of the apartment, before she burst into tears. She would go to the stable. Mr. Vita was in Connecticut, visiting his cousins. Carmen

could get Rosie and take her to the park. She wouldn't have to talk to anyone. She stumbled into the kitchen and headed straight for the coatrack. Mrs. Grasso stood up. "Carmen? Do you feel all right?" "Yes. But I'm… I'm going to school," Carmen lied, struggling to keep her voice steady. She threw on her coat. "Mr. Lawrence wanted some help—" "So early?" Mrs. Grasso said. "It's barely seven." But Carmen was already in the hallway, ignoring the voices calling after her. She flew down the stairs and out the door onto the street. Her mind was swirling. How could they send her back? This couldn't be Nonna's idea, could it? She and Carmen had been writing to each other nonstop, but Nonna hadn't written a word about that. The Grassos knew how much Carmen missed

Nonna. Did they somehow think Carmen wanted to go back to Italy? Somehow, she made it to the stable. She waved hello to Mr. Pallo, the cheery older man who was watching the horses while Mr. Vita was gone. She hurried to Rosie's stall. She didn't bother with a saddle, just climbed on up and clicked her tongue. Rosie knew that meant "go." They headed toward the park by the harbor. Usually, the sound of Rosie's horseshoes on the cobblestones was soothing to Carmen. But today each footstep was a hammer pounding on her heart. Clop, clop. She imagined herself saying goodbye to Mr. Vita. Clop, clop. To Mrs. Grasso. Clop, clop. To Tony. She stroked Rosie's mane. Who would ride her after Carmen left? By the time they reached the park, Carmen's chest felt bruised.

She looked out at the ships, remembering when she and Papa first sailed into Boston Harbor. Papa was so excited! "Anything is possible in America," Papa always said. "If you work hard, a person can be anything they want to be." You couldn't be anything you wanted to be in southern Italy, though. Not unless you were already very rich. Papa had barely earned money as a farmer. All the men were farmers or fishermen; there were no other jobs. And girls? They got married and had babies. Carmen wanted a family of her own one day. But she didn't want that to be her only job. Maybe she'd be a teacher, like Mr. Lawrence. Or a nurse, and help people who were sick. Or she could write a book, like The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. She'd never do any of those things if she went back. There wasn't even a school in her village.

Rosie came to a stop near the playground, as if she knew Carmen needed a break. Carmen slid down and buried herself in Rosie's mane, staring at her shiny new boots through the mare's soft white hair. Suddenly, anger boiled up inside her. She wasn't angry at the Grassos—not after everything they'd done for her. She was mad at herself. All this time she'd let herself feel a part of the Grasso family. But Mr. and Mrs. Grasso already had four kids. Mr. Grasso worked at construction sites, where he probably earned no more than thirty dollars a week. Carmen should have eaten less! She should have tried to find a job in the factory, or as a maid for one of the rich families outside the North End. And she shouldn't have accepted these boots for Christmas. Carmen kicked the dirt so hard that Rosie whinnied.