Page 3 of Humility

“I do like them, Papa.”

“Is it the schoolwork? Is it too tough?” I shook my head. “Then what is it?” His voice was soft and kind. I’d never known my papa to be angry with me, and I didn’t want to make him angry now, but I didn’t want to go back to class and face Angelo, Dario, and the other mean boys. They put stickers on my back, stuffed old food in my desk, dumped drinks on my head, and stuck gum in my hair. They would always laugh, but I didn’t cry. Even when it took Mama hours to get the gum out, and she still had to cut a chunk of my hair off. I wore a headband so no one could see the mess and make fun of me.

I looked up as a shadow covered my feet, and Papa loomed over me. His face was happy, and after Mama was sick for so long, it was nice to see him smile.

“Tell your papa what is wrong? I don’t like to see such a sad look on my pretty daughter’s face.”

Sighing, I just couldn’t say the words. “I get scared,” I said, which wasn’t a whole lie. It was a baby lie. Mama told me there were different types of lies, and this one was definitely a small lie. At least, I thought so.

“Oh, mia Bambolina, there is no need to be scared.” He knelt and closed his fist tight. I stared at the big shiny rings and the black artwork on his fingers. “You tell me who scares you, and your papa will take care of them,” he growled, and I giggled.

Reaching out, I touched the largest of the rings on his finger. “You like that one?”

I nodded. “It’s pretty.”

He brought his hand closer and pointed to the letter F on the top and the sparkling stones that circled it.

“This stands for Falcone.” He tickled my tummy, and I laughed and wiggled in the chair. “You are a Falcone.”

“Stop, I can’t breathe,” I laughed until he stopped.

“Grab my fist,” he said, and still smiling, I put both hands on his. “You feel how strong I am?” I nodded. “I will never let anyone hurt you. If someone is mean to you, you tell me, and I’ll make sure they never hurt you again. I’m your papa, and it’s my job to protect you.”

“Okay, Papa.” I cupped his checks and kissed both sides before hopping down and running for the door.

“Mia Bambolina?” I turned and looked at my papa, who was standing again. He looked so powerful in his black suit, like he could take on all the mean boys in my class for me. “Ti amo.”

“I love you too, Papa.”

* * *

“Leave me alone, Angelo. My papa says he will make sure you never hurt me again,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest as I stuck out my chin.

“Ohhhh, did you hear that, boys? She told her papa.” He made fists and wiped at his eyes. “Wah, wah, wah, look at the little crybaby.”

I stomped my foot and glared at the boys. “I’m not a baby, and I didn’t cry,” I said.

“That’s all I see, a whiny baby that had to tattle about a little teasing. What’s next? Are you going to shit yourself?”

Gasping, I put my hand over my mouth and looked at the school. “You said a bad word. If the teachers hear you….”

“Who is going to hear me out here?” He opened his arms and looked around. A few other kids looked our way, but no one interfered. Not even the girls came to help. “Shit, shit, shit!” Angelo yelled at the top of his lungs, and all the boys laughed.

“Stop it. I don’t want to get into trouble.” I tried to march around him, but he blocked my way. “Leave me alone.” I stepped to the side, and he followed me, his laugh annoying as he glared down at me.

My hands balled into fists. It wasn’t polite to hit if you were a girl, but this might be one of those times that it was okay, just like lying.

“Why are you such a jerk,” I asked and then covered my mouth.

His eyes grew wide, and his mouth opened. “Did you hear that? She said a really bad word.”

“I heard it,” Dario said and crossed his arms.

“I heard it too,” another boy said.

“Me too,” a third said.

Each of them nodded in agreement, and my heart fluttered with fear. Would Angelo run to the teacher and tell them what I said? What if they called my papa, and he was upset with me? I couldn’t have them do that.