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| Un Folletto |
"Mama, I can't find my special
assignment," Marisa called from her room.
"Where did you leave it,"
Mother asked patiently.
"It was right here on my desk. I
was working on it last night, and now it has disappeared." Marisa and
Mother were looking all around the desk, on the floor, even under the bed but
they couldn't find it.
"Vroom, vroom," two-year-old
Michele ran into the room holding a shoebox high and pretending it was a plane.
When he saw Marisa and Mother searching on the floor, he joined them in the new
game.
"What am I going to do, Mom? I
must turn it in today. What could have happened to it?"
"It must be a pesky folletto,"
Nonna (grandmother) came in to join the search. "They can make anything
disappear faster than that," she said snapping her fingers.
"Oh, Nonna, you don't really believe
in folletti, do you?" Marisa asked.
"Why not? I believe in
electricity, which I can't see, and radio waves, and even 'microwaves' which
seem mysterious somehow. Why shouldn't I believe in folletti when my dear mama
from Padua told me about them. And she never lied either, even about whether
she dyed her hair or not!"
"Oh, Nonna, you're silly,"
Marisa stopped searching long enough to give her a hug. "And was her hair
as dark and silky as yours?"
"Of course not, "Caro"
(dear) she never dyed it, you know. But she knew all about folletti."
"Lap, lap," Michele had
stopped crawling on the floor and had come to Nonna, who picked him and held
him.
"She claimed that at night when
it's dark, tiny fairies or elves come out to count things, and sometimes they
get so busy counting that they forget to put things back. Or they realize
they've taken them and can't remember where they got them and you find them in
a different place."
"Marisa," Paolo called from
the bathroom, "what is your homework doing in the clothes hamper?"
Mother and Marisa ran to recover the
assignment, while Nonna sang baby songs to Michele.
"Mama, is Nonna serious about
folletti?" Marisa asked as she put her coat on and gathered her things
together.
"Yes, she really believes in the
little people," Mother laughed. "She always had little bowls of
millet sitting around on all the night stands and tables so the folletti would
count those all night and leave all our things alone."
"Ciao, tutto (all)," Marisa
blew kisses to everyone before she and Paolo left their apartment to walk to
school.
The church bells were tolling noontime
when Paolo and Marisa came home from their school in the warm Italian sunshine
to find Nonna all upset.
"I can't find my glasses," Nonna
was searching everywhere. "I laid them down for a minute after we came back
from the market and they disappeared. Those pesky folletti are responsible, I
know. And I can't read the letter from my sister which came in the mail."
"Let's eat dinner, please, Nonna,"
Mom suggested. Maybe we'll find your glasses after 'il riposo' (rest time or siesta).
If not, I'll read the letter to you if we can't find your glasses."
"Va bene. (Okay) But I'm going to
put out plenty of millet, whether you want me to or not, then, Luciana. I don't
want those folletti to take anything else of mine."
Marisa lay in her dark, shuttered
room, listening to the birds tweeting outside in the autumn sun. She had just awakened
from her rest and wondered what sound a Folletto made, whether he chirped or
talked or what. She looked at Michele who was still sleeping in his crib in the
corner, with his shoebox "plane" near him. Maybe a folletto talked baby
talk like he did, she thought laughing.
Finally, Marisa heard Nonna moving
around in the next room and went in to her. Nonna was still upset over the loss
of her glasses and could not be comforted.
Father was getting ready to go back to
his shop which opened again for the afternoon and tried to look for the glasses,
but no one could find them. Nonna finally went off to the kitchen to have
mother read the letter to her.
"Father, do you really think a
folletto took them?" Marisa asked.
"Well, I don't know. It could
also be a jay-bird. They steal bright shiny things and hide them in their
nests, too."
Just then Paolo let out a shout. "Where
is my shoe? I took it off during riposo and it's gone!" He came hopping into
the room with one shoe off and one shoe on, followed by Michele, who was
rubbing his eyes and holding his shoebox tightly.
"Have you looked under your
bed?" father asked.
"Of course, but it's not there. Only
Michele's shoes are there." They all looked at Michele and his tightly
held shoebox.
"Mine," Michele said
stubbornly, clasping his box and running from the room with everyone following him.
Nonna and Mother coming from the
kitchen grabbed the sturdy toddler and his box as he ran into them shouting, "Mine!
Mine! Mine!" In the melee, the shoebox "plane" fell out of
Michele's hands and onto the floor, disclosing Nonna's glasses, Paolo's shoe,
mother's embroidery thread, Marisa's necklace, a toy boat and other
miscellaneous things that he'd picked up from all over the house.
"There's your folletto,
Nonna," father laughed. "Right in your arms."
Poor Michele was screaming at the loss
of his treasures, which everyone was picking up and claiming, leaving him only
the toy boat, looking lost in the big box.
"It's all right, Bambino
(child)," Mother crooned. "We'll find other treasures, that don't belong
to other people."
Nonna was happy to put her glasses on
and return to her letter, but she still had the last word. Looking at Father she
said emphatically, "I still believe in folletti! Say what you will, I'm
leaving the millet out for them!" and she stomped out of the room.
Marisa looked at Michele, who was
still screaming over the loss of his treasures and at Father who was pinching
his cheeks and calling him his "funny folletto," while mother laughing
at them both. Marisa was still missing her best pen, and her secret pal ring,
and she knew that Michele hadn't taken them. Maybe there really are two types
of folletti, "funny folletti" and real ones!
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