Sofia's Tune by Cindy Thomson Page A

here, well, who knows what they would have done to you. Panned you in, I expect.”
    “They seemed…violent?”
    “Might be just talk. You know how those type of thugs can be. I mean no offense.”
    “It’s all right.”
    “Why take chances, Tony?”
    “I’ll be going.”
    “Wait. Before you go, sit down for a moment, you and your dog.”
    Mac and Antonio each took a wooden folding chair. Antonio ordered Luigi to sit outside the office, just in case, and they left the door open. Antonio leaned back on his chair, nearly bumping his head on a shelf of scripts and prompt cards on the wall behind him.
    Mac’s brows shot up as though a thought sparked in his mind. “Say, my news for you is even better now, in light of those fellas coming here.”
    “News?”
    Mac dabbed at his perspiring forehead with a handkerchief. “That’s right. You did a pure dead brilliant job improvising last night, Tony. You surely did.” He poured himself a drink from a flask he’d stored in his desk drawer before offering it to Antonio.
    “No thanks. I don’t drink.” And he never would, after seeing what the stuff had done to his uncle. “But thanks for the compliment, Mac. What news are you talking about? I should get home to practice and leave you to your work.” And maybe he could get a glimpse of those men on the street.
    “And you will. I won’t keep you long. Practice, you say? Still waiting for Oberlin to come calling, then?”
    He shrugged. “What if I am?”
    “Keep the heid, Tony.” The man liked to use Scottish colloquialisms. This one meant he was to stay calm.
    “I’ve been a bit jittery, Mac. People asking after me and all.”
    He took a swallow from his flask. “I don’t blame you. I’m just saying…you’re a smart musician, lad. One of the best in vaudeville, whether you want to be or not.”
    “I don’t mean to be ungrateful. You’ve been very kind to me. Please, Mac. Have your say and send me on my way.”
    Instead, the man took another long pull on his flask. When he finally put it away, he smiled. “That’s better. Now the news. Good news, if you’ll have it.”
    “I could use some. Spill it.”
    “Well, I was not the only one who noticed your talent. Those boys, the quartet?”
    “I appreciate that.” Antonio stood and whistled for his dog. “Tell them I’m pleased they liked it, won’t you?”
    “Sit down, lad. There’s more.”
    Antonio waited but did not sit.
    “Those boys told the manager at the Roman Athenaeum. Apparently they’ve lost their piano player. Terrible case of consumption, it seems. They want you over there. Half past six.” Mac glanced at his pocket watch. “I’d recommend you skedaddle.”
    Stunned, Antonio struggled not to stutter. “Thank you. Thank you, Mac. Listen, I’m sorry about those fellas—”
    “Don’t mention it.”
     

Chapter 6
    Sofia met Father Lucci two doors down from the building where the Falcones rented rooms. As they walked together, the Father spoke toward the ground. “Your papà, he mentioned this to me a few months ago. He warned me your mother might need…well, some extra care.”
    “ Sì , she gets the melancholy every year, but this time is worse than Papà anticipated, Father.”
    “Oh, why is that? Is there more I should know?”
    “So much more, Father.”
    They paused at the stoop. A woman approached them, a parishioner Sofia recognized but didn’t know. A recent immigrant from a village near Naples. “Father, mio bambino . He is ill. You must come pray for him. Just over here.” She inclined her head toward a building on the opposite side of the street.
    He took a step in that direction and then paused. “Sofia, a baby. You understand. I will be along when I’m finished over there.”
    “But, Father, I must tell you—”
    “And you will. Soon.” He reached for her hand and then kissed her cheek before moving away with the woman.
    Sofia turned toward the steps blackened from the coal dust that rained on the