Field of Blackbirds - Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen (me reader txt) 📗

promise, Don Carlo. On your 100th birthday I will pop out of a giant cake for you, in my bikini.”
Don Carlo looked pleased as he might have been picturing the occasion. Then his spirit seemed to tumble as he admitted, “But that’s twelve years away. I might not live another twelve days.”
“Mark it on your calendar, Don Carlo. It will motivate you to keep on living.”
Marianna smiled and began to walk away with her ticket.
“Belissimo,” Don Carlo called her back. He pointed and asked, “How’s the little one?”
She glanced down at her stomach. She was reminded that the world was no longer moving around just her, but both of them. Where she went, so did the baby. And now it was taking on a new identity, a new shape and it was no longer sitting quietly. It wanted to be noticed and it wanted to be introduced. Marianna smiled, “Thank you, Don Carlo. The Baby is fine.”
Marianna spent an hour and a half on the bus. She nearly made a full circle around the city before she came to a stop where she wanted to exit, near her old apartment. It was the where she and Marcielli grew up. She walked down the street for a while before she reached the Po river walk.
Over the past two days it had been raining, but today was clear and the air was clean and fresh. The sun was casting such a light off the Po that the buildings bordering the river walk seemed to beam with pride. Almost like when a girl whips her hair behind her shoulders because she knows she is beautiful.
Marianna saw gondolas with couples holding each other and perhaps making promises for their future. She saw a grandfather and a grandson holding on to one fishing pole, casting a line into the water. The old man, in the evening of life, has all the love and wisdom in the world to give, but not enough time to give it. And the young boy was just caught up in the excitement and naïve to the fact that the moment wouldn’t last forever. She saw venders preying on the tourists and tourists too kind to tell them no. She saw a group of young students sitting at the edge of the river walk. Some were transferring the beauty of the city to canvas, while others were just staring at a blank easel.
As Marianna walked, she found herself placing her hand at the small of her back for support. She even discovered her walk was beginning to mirror that of a duck. She couldn’t help but laugh at the timeless, but humorous quirks of pregnancy. She hoped Marcielli would return soon enough to laugh with her. Though she was tired, Marianna couldn’t rest just yet. In another one hundred meters or so, she would reach her destination, her place in the painting, her page in the novel, ‘Life along the Po’.
Marianna finally found the park bench across from her old apartment. She was able to pick out the balcony where she and Marcielli spent countless evenings overlooking the river. It was where they shared their philosophies of life and love and it was where destiny was sealed with a beautiful gesture and a ring.
As Marianna sat, pigeons began making their way over, pecking at the dirt around her. When they learned that nothing was on the menu, they waddled off in search of new visitors. For the next hour or so, life continued revolving around Marianna as her ideas began to materialize and take shape in her mind. She discovered the answer. There was only one way to take back what was hers and she had to do it without Marcielli. He would never approve of her plan. And she would never tell him what she was about to do. From where did this might come? She was being introduced to personality she didn’t know she possessed. Now that her mind was made up, Marianna became anxious. She had to act now.

She caught the express 305 to the west side of the city. She got off on Via Malpensa, rounded the corner and pushed open the door. Marianna approached the desk Sergeant and asked for Detective Fetti.
Antigo Fetti, once Marcielli’s playground enemy, was now a close friend to the both of them. The busyness of the Police Department kept the pace for the urgency Marianna was feeling. Some Officers were moving hastily out of the building while responding to their radios. Others were escorting prisoners in handcuffs and some just seemed to be buried in paperwork at their desks.
“Marianna, I was just thinking about you and Marcielli. What a coincidence. What brings you here?”
Antigo wasn’t the same bully that he once was on the playground when they were little. He was much more likeable. He had abandoned his pudgy physique and the need to throw his weight around to get what he wanted. Now he was tall with a slender build. He appeared to be milder in nature. Antigo was suited much better as a detective than a beat cop.
“I’m glad to see you Antigo. Can we talk in private?”
“Sure, is my office okay?”
“That’s fine.” Marianna didn’t even attempt to hide her concern.
“Are you all right Marianna?”
Marianna didn’t answer his question, “I need your help Antigo.”
Even though Marianna was spoken for, she was the type of girl Antigo would do anything for. He was happy to help her.
“Do you need me to climb a mountain or cross the ocean? I only need a little time to get into shape.”
Surprisingly, Marianna was able to smile. As she entered Antigo’s office, Marianna was already reaching into her handbag. She removed the two letters.
“Some of the prints will be mine, but I want you to find out who the others belong to. This might help; their first names are Rico and Dmitri.”
“What’s this all about Marianna?”
“I’ve received some letters from them and I just want to know who they are.” Marianna didn’t want to go into their whole history of dodging the Mafia. It was too involved and she didn’t want to waste time.
Though Antigo was curious, his desire to help Marianna and show her how skillful he was seemed to take precedence. Antigo opened a drawer and removed some rubber gloves. He pulled them over his hands and took the letters from her.
“I’ll bring them back to the lab. It will take the ID techs about thirty minutes to make a positive match. In the mean time, would you like me to bring you some coffee?”
Marianna only tried coffee a few times in her life. She never really liked the taste of it. Oddly enough, under the circumstances, she took Antigo up on his offer. “Thank you Antigo. Lot’s of sugar please.”
“You got it!”
Three days after Marcielli had beaten Antigo on the playground, his guilt led him into Duomo, a place he didn’t know could have so much influence over his soul. Marcielli began his confession in a confessional booth, but ended it outside the booth with his head buried in the Priest’s chest, as tears soaked his holy cloak. It was affection he never got from his own father. Marcielli never knew the priest’s name. He returned a week later, but the priest had been transferred to Rome to minister in the Vatican. But whatever he told Marcielli had changed him.
When Marcielli returned to school after his suspension, he had earned the respect of those on the soccer field. He had beaten Goliath. That day, as team captain, Marcielli’s first pick, ironically, was Antigo, whose sudden lack of courage caused him to cower in the back of the crowd. His look of surprise matched the other players around him. They had become friends after that day.
Antigo was only on the streets for eight months before he was reassigned to investigations. He had already received many awards for investigations he successfully closed, to which numerous plaques on the wall testified.
Marianna saw Antigo walking down the hall with coffee in both hands. She stood up and opened the door for him.
“I hope there’s not too much sugar in it. I didn’t know how much you wanted.”
“Thank you Antigo!” It was the least of her worries, Marianna thought. Not being a regular coffee consumer, she nearly burnt her lips on the first sip. As she set the cup on the desk, Antigo apologized. “Sorry, I should have told you it was still too hot to drink.”
“It’s all right.” Marianna assured.
“Have you heard anything from Marcielli lately?” Antigo inquired as he began straightening stacks of paper work on his desk. Antigo kept a very tidy office. Everything seemed to be in order. But Marianna could tell that he still felt self-conscious with her in the room.
“Marcielli sends his love to me all the time, but I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing and that’s what worries me.”
“So he’s not in Belgium anymore?” Antigo finally sat down.
“I don’t know Antigo.” Marianna sighed with frustration.
It was uncomfortable for Antigo to see her this way. He tried to change the topic as he opened his desk drawer.
“I have something for the baby.” He pulled out a small toy policeman. “We donated these to the orphanage, but I kept one for the baby. I’m taking a chance that it’s going to be a boy.” Marianna thought it was a nice gesture.
Marianna didn’t think much time had passed when Antigo received a phone call from the printing techs.
Antigo blurted into the receiver, “Now that’s what I call service. I’ll have to recommend a raise for you two.” And then Antigo’s change in demeanor was obvious as he turned a little and lowered his voice. “Are you sure you’ve got the right guy? Okay, I’ll be there shortly.”
Marianna made eye contact with Antigo, but he didn’t say anything to her as he walked out of the office. When he returned, he was holding the letters and a few pieces of paper. Antigo still hadn’t said anything when he spread the papers out on his desk. Marianna noticed the one with a photo on it. She stood and moved closer to Antigo. In the photo, was