We pick up our bags and walk home, too tired and hungry to talk.
"Cosa dovremmo mangiare per cena (What should we have for dinner)?" Mom asks as we enter the house.
I shrug, distractedly. My mum glances at me, worriedly. After Ella's death, I became really thin because the raw grief made me lose my appetite, which caused Mamma a lot of concern. Lately, I can't say the amount of food I eat is the same as before Ella's death but I'm making progress.
"Hai fame, vero (You are hungry, aren't you)?"
"Yeah. In fact, can we have Taco Bell?"
"Where is it?"
"Just down the road on the right. Can't miss it."
"Fine. I guess it's time to see for ourselves if American fast food is as great as everyone says," Mom says with a smirk.
I chuckle, saying, "Yeah."
"Non ci vorra molto, tesoro (I won't be long, honey)," my mum says as she grabs her purse and gives me a quick peck on forehead.
"Arrivederci (Goodbye)!"
"Ciao (Bye)!"
The door slams and I'm left by myself. When Mamma leaves me by myself, I usually watch TV so that it breaks the silence in the house. I switch on the TV.
My current favourite Disney movie is Aladdin (2019) and I love the message that is sent to the audience: You shouldn't change yourself to be liked. It's like when Mom and I were living in Italy. Our neighbours and every person we passed by would ridicule us but we never took it so hard to heart that we wanted and tried to change ourselves. In my head, I'm taken back to one of those times that the children at school had yet again really teased me and I wanted right there to cry my eyes out but I kept on recalling the last words Papa said to me: Be strong as looking weak will make your enemies stronger.
Whenever these scenarios happened, I would think to myself that they would regret all those nasty comments they made once I become a world-famous female basketball player. I smile sadly of all those what felt like years ago dream but was only six months ago. Dad's words repeat in my mind.
He's right. I will play basketball to show all those people who treated my mum, Ella and I like dirt, who they're really dealing with. Most importantly, I will play basketball to show that Ella may be gone but her spirit lives on. On the inside of me.
YOU ARE READING
The Immigrant Who Played Basketball
General FictionShe was and Italian Mixed Race Girl, with a black mom. She was looked down on and insulted by the residents of her town, who said she couldn't do anything. But she never listened when it came to playing basketball, the sport that transported her awa...
