Lucinda, a Novella (Part 1)
It was a damp grey dawn in the "only behind closed doors" hamlet known as Atlantic City. The place was in its hey-day--- the boardwalk was an enjoyable stroll to visitors and locals alike, and the casino/hotels boasted an architectural greatness not yet surpassed by its counterpart, Las Vegas...
Down an alleyway, opposite the parking lot of The Golden Nugget, a deal was going down...one that Mafia Boss Fernando Carlisle boldly and very strongly disapproved of.
His face shuddered in a raging fit of fury as he slammed his fist down on the walnut lacquered table top.
"I refuse to give in to a bunch of ehh," he struggled for words in his anger "young know-it-alls. I'll have you know that the profits being raked in, the very money that feeds your young wives and your nursing kids is all thanks to ME!" His European-accented voice went on an upward climb toward the end of his tirade and everyone's mouths clicked closed to silence.
Only one dared to break the respectful quietness Carlisle's speech demanded.
"Nando, baby, maybe they do have a point, I mean..."
Every pair of male eyes in the room cautiously chanced a look at the only female present. Her sensual slightly low voice carried like the notes of a harp across the room. Lucinda Riley noticed this attention focused upon her, and with very little self-consciousness adjusted the straps of the emerald-toned evening gown she still wore from the night before.
She held weight with the middle-aged Boss, and though she herself had only just approached her twentieth year, she and Carlisle's men each had knowledge of this power she held.
Carlisle had found her four years ago as a very attractive mulatto orphan, waitressing at a tiny diner he would frequent when closing deals with mobsters from opposing locations. The only thing that brought him there in the first place was that it was on neutral territory, though not so neutral that those in the area didn't have knowledge of his position.
Lucinda's graceful beyond her years manner and seductive smile soon lured him there, and Carlisle watched the stunning teenager's every move...
He researched her background. With his endless network of connections throughout the city, it wasn't that hard.
He found out that her mother had been ('had been' being a very accurate term) a black jazz singer at a dive called The Blue Note. Her father turned up as an Italian bakery truck driver, an average joe, that would wander into The Blue Note to drink his mundane troubles away.
As an unfortunate fate would have it, Clarice, Lucinda's mother, found herself pregnant with an unwanted biracial child. As the story goes, she did the typical cop-out of leaving her newborn baby girl on the threshold of St. Nicholas, the most prestigious Catholic Church in town.
A very young yet mature Lucinda flourished with very little personal attention under the watchful scowl of Sister Mary Theresa. The nun's recollections included brief anecdotes of a pretty little girl, somewhat shy, who didn't quite fit in with the other children.
"Please keep in mind, Mr. Carlisle, that these memories are from nearly two decades ago, so it is rather difficult to draw up distinct facts about one of the many children I have given foster care to...but...let's see... Lucinda Riley...
"Now she arrived on our doorstep one night in May, yes it was. A lovely little girl, to be negro I mean. Yet she had a lovely bronze complexion, longgggg curly pigtails, and crystal clear brown eyes. My, was she quite breath-taking to look at, I imagine she still is..."
Carlisle sighed, knowing very well how lovely Lucinda had become.
"She seemed rather well adjusted to her circumstance, except that she hardly ever joined in the children's group activities, but of course a child of her kind would find it difficult to form associations with either the white or negro children. We admonished her against anti-social behavior, and reluctantly she would do as told.
"Although she was to be commended, she did do her chores religiously," a husky chuckle escaped the hefty nun's pursed lips. "We require our children to become firm believers that cleanliness is akin to Godliness, as the Good Book teaches.
"She attended every meal punctually, never over-eating. She kept the dormitory room she shared with another little girl ever so neat and tidy, and as I remember, she seemed to enjoy tending our gardens the most...oh, especially the morning glories on the lattice and the patches of rosemary. She would adorn her hair with them---"
Carlisle would have wanted to slap the long-winded nun to get to more telling information of Lucinda, instead he just waited her out patiently.
Sister Mary Theresa seemed to sense Carlisle's agitation, she cleared her throat and continued.
"...but especially of notice to us was that she would come into the church during our private prayer sessions, kneel at the feet of the statue of St. Nicholas, our blessed patron, and bow her head in reverent contrition. She seemed very lonely at times, but what do you expect of a child who believes she is unwanted?"
