Padre Campanile was the family priest. He came to the house every Sunday to give my Nonna Elvira, her blessing and communion.

My aunts remember he was always “intridisce” the Neapolitan word for...Sepre li which is Italian for “always around'' but it means so much more than that .The intent behind Intridesce is “this asshole is always coming around here sniffing his nose where it don't belong!” Now how much more efficient is Neapolitan!!

Nonna Elvira, my great grandmother, was in a wheel chair due to an accident she had while trying to break up a fight between my two uncles Lello and Elio. Funny thing is, my two uncles now in their 60s play fight CONSTANTLY! I wonder how it has effected them....that the fighting caused their grandmother to trip over a step and break her hip putting her in a wheel chair for the rest of her life ?I'm sure as young boys that event must have had a huge impact on them. The family must have given them so much grief. Whats weird is that they act like those little boys whenever they are together. Its almost as if on some unconscious level they are trying to relive that moment in time in an attempt to repair it somehow.

. I shared a room with Nonna Elvira , in the house on top of the train station in the port of Naples. My Grandfather was “Capostastione Bonavita.” I've always loved the way that sounded. I'm sure he was a big shot in that little world. It was a big house with a huge terrazzo. I loved that house, I loved the terrazzo, the sound of the trains going by was thrilling to me. To this day train stations, train tracks and the rhythmic sounds of trains going by transports me instantly back., especially if the smells inside are of the Sunday ragu simmering on the stove.

Nonna Elvira was very religious. But she read romantic novels that she hid under the cushions of her wheelchair along with scissors and candy. .

In our room, She had a corner alter with a beautiful 3 foot tall baby Jesus, a painting of the Madonna and child. The 'Madonna Dorata.' A crown full of jewels on her head and the baby Jesus in her arms also adorned with jewels. There was also a bronze statue of the Madonna stepping on the horns of the devil and candles and photos of Nonno Peppino and rosaries galore.

Nonna Elvira and Nonno Peppino were wealthy in their times. Nonno Peppino owned Farmacias all over Naples. Nonna Elviras family had a church in 1800s, that's where all the artifacts came from. Nonna Elvira would sit in her chair at this alter three times a day. In the morning before La Collazione, breakfast , after La Mensa, the afternoon meal and right before bed every 'night after La Ciena, dinner. That corner was so commonplace to me as a child that I hardly remember noticing it but to this day I can recall the mysterious feelings I had while sleeping in the presence of it. More often than not Nonna would be asleep in her chair when I went to go get her so I thought praying was a good way to fall asleep.

When Padre Campanile came, he went into the back room with her to give her the communion. Now I think that he was just going back there to check up on all the treasures. He made Nonna promise the baby Jesus to the church. Luckily the Maddona painting and the bronze were already spoken for so he didn't get his hands on those items. Later my Mom saw the baby Jesus in an antique store on sale for more money than even God would have. I would not have believed that our priest was crooked if I had not had first hand experience with him.

I belonged to the parrochia , the childrens choir at his church. It was the logical place for me to go to get my first communion and confirmation. He seemed taller than the men in my family, he had very long thin fingers and spoke in a very soft voice. Almost a whisper, I remember thinking, is that the way he talked to God ? My family is really laud so I didn't think anyone talked to god. He taught me how to sound out the word “because” and every time I write it, I still have to sound it out beh ka oooo seh
I went to classes he taught, sang in the choir and prepared to kiss the 'ring of the Pope when the parrochia went to Rome for a field trip.
The mass was amazing, I don't think I had ever seen so many people in one place before. Il Papa said the mass in many different languages. When he spoke in your country's language you got to stand up. I felt proud to stand up twice when the Pope addressed the crowd in English and then again in Italian. I was the only one in my whole parrocia that was American and Italian. After mass we went to a park for some lunch and a game of calico that turned into a game of chase the American girl

. I remember Padre Campanile sitting on the park bench with another priest that accompanied us to Rome that day. I felt like the princess of the day. His eyes were all for me. All the boys wanted to chase me around the field. I was a fast runner and I could out run them all. I was also already developing the very beginnings of my now large breasts. At the time I did 'not wear a bra because it was not really even something that I thought about. I was however aware of my little nibs bouncing up and down as I ran as fast as I could.

I ran a bit to impress Padre Campanile and a bit because I knew that Italian girls back then didn't run. But I was American I was in P.E. at the American school and I ran a lot.

Now I know why Padre Campanile didn't take his eyes off of me that day.

We all piled into the bus after a long wonderful day meeting the Il Papa kissing his ring running in the park. We were all very tired little people and the bus ride would be at least 3 hours of quite rest until we got home to our cozy beds. The kids were all fighting over who got to sit next to me. I loved it. As I settled into my seat I began dreaming of how wonderful the day was, how proud I was to be able to stand up twice at mass, how fast I was running and how all the girls wished they could run like me' and how all the boys couldn't believe that I could out run them. I was in a daze of self absorption resting and content.

My thoughts were interrupted by my friend Lucia who came to my seat to tell me that Padre Campanile wanted to talk to me. I made my way over to where he was sitting. “'Lucia said you want to talk to me.' “yes I do” he said in his whispery voice, “come sit here” He patted his lap with the palms of his hands motioning me to sit on his lap. I didn't think anything was wrong or strange, I often sat on Nonno Corrados lap or Zio Lelleos lap to talk with them. I had an affectionate Father, loving uncles and adored my Grandfather. I had no reason to believe that my priest was any different. So I sat on his lap. He began to ask me if I had a good time that day. ''Oh yes it was a very good day.'' Then He said that when I was running he could see my tzitze bouncing up and down. And why don't I wear a bra?. I felt my breath leave my body for a moment. I wasn't sure what to say? Was I in trouble, was that a sin? I was starting to feel like I had done something really wrong. Maybe girls aren't supposed to run. I thought, I need to go to confession and 'promise to never run again. Then he touched them. He said he needed to see if they were big enough for me to wear a bra. He kept his hands there and wouldn't move them. I started to feel sick to my stomach but I was so afraid of disappointing him I just let him keep feeling. I guess I thought I needed him to tell me if I needed to get a bra.. I remember looking out the window at the darkness going by. I wanted to escape but I didn't know what to say, how to stop it. I was just frozen. I knew it was wrong and the longer it went on the more wrong it felt. I just looked out the window at the darkness I couldn't see anything so I pressed my face to the window and cupped my hands around my eyes as if looking through binoculars into another world. I blocked out what Padre Campanile was doing and just fell asleep on his lap with my faced pressed up against the cold window looking into the darkness going by. I'm not sure what else he did or for how long. I didn't want to say anything to anyone. Because, well, I was confused about if he had even done something wrong. He was my Priest. He was the closest anyone of us would ever get to God himself. And actually that little girl in me still has a tendency to think he did nothing wrong. Plus if it was wrong... I didn't think anyone would believe me. But I did ask my Mom to buy me a bra.

I don't remember going back to the parrochia. My parents moved to another part of the city and it was just too far to take me there I guess. Plus I had fulfilled my catholic obligations of my first communion and since my Dad is pretty much an atheist I never had to go back... yay dad.


Anyways now I have the Madonna Dorata She sits proudly perched on my dresser.... but I do have to remove her whenever my husband and I make love , she just stares at me... with her little boy …..and her crown.

I swear that painting has some energy that is not of this world. I wonder if the 3 ft tall baby Jesus also has that energy, wonder where he is right now. Probably peering at some wealthy couple screwing their brains out