Sal “Muscles” Marinara used a brick that fell out of the wall to prop open the pizza parlor door. On the back wall behind the counter, the Blessed Mother’s image shimmied in heat waves radiating from the oven. She shined above the hard glare of overhead light while another light from somewhere cast her wondrous glow on the wall.
Mary looked very much alive.
Sal stood picking his teeth at the curb outside Vic’s Pizza. Adorned in a black T-shirt so tightly stretched across his shoulders you could see the raised outline on his left pectoral of the scar he got in a knife attack at the Las Vegas penitentiary from which he was recently paroled. His thick gelled hair glistened black as canned olives in oil. Any gigolo would have killed for his smooth tanned skin. Gold chains hung so weighty he strengthened his neck muscles just by lifting his chin.
JayJay Bone held the mic under Sal’s nose.
May I call you Salvatore?
No.
Mr. Marinara?
No.
Sal?
Call me Muscles.
Mr. Muscles, you’re one of the first people who saw the Blessed Mother shortly after she arrived. When did she first appear on the wall?
Sal gave him the seven-second prison exercise yard stare designed to instill fear among men.
She was already here last night when I came in for a tray of Sicilian. The ex-co-owner Vic who used to work here got so rattled he almost broke his neck when he tripped on his way out.
Why did she come, Mr. Muscles?
She’s trying to warn us.
About what?
Each person has to figure out her message for themselves but it’s definitely a heavenly sign. Like taking us back to simpler times before all the chain pizza restaurants like those Pizza King joints showed up. Big pizza box stores are putting little the guys out of action. They even want to buy us.
Us? I thought Vic and Gina owned this place.
Vic quit. Probably trying to collect disability as we speak. I’m the new partner.
After Gina and Sal cut their deal, Sal paid Vic a quick visit, put his arm around Vic’s shoulder and made him an offer he refused until Sal broke Vic’s pinkie finger as inducement to turn over his part in the commercial venture.
JayJay Bone grew miffed.
Wynne the Pizza King is the main sponsor of my local news radio talk show, young man.
Yeah, well take it up with the Blessed Virgin. She didn’t show up at one of his joints did she?
A cheer went up from the crowd that increased ten-fold in the past few hours. A line of socially-distanced customers spaced six-feet apart went down the block and disappeared around the corner, waiting their turn to order and gawk at the holy image while they waited.
Sal raised his arms above his head like Rocky.
I want youse all to have a slice on us, he said.
Another cheer.
Just buy a large tray and only pay for 11 out of 12 cuts.
Another cheer.
Get the Blessed Mother’s blessing for free.
The biggest cheer of the night erupted. The crowd gathered on the street mostly consisted of middle-aged women and their mothers. A few great-grandmothers dotted the mass of several hundred people. Many clutching rosary beads in one hand, they held onto take-out menus Sal had distributed with the other.
Caught up in the frenzy, JayJay Bone pushed forward with in-depth investigative questioning.
Do you expect her to stay?
Ask Gina.
Inside, Gina rushed from oven to cash register and back, taking orders, raising clouds of flour when she punched the dough, throwing the pie over her head, ladling the sauce, sprinkling the cheese, checking the crust in the oven, boxing and ringing up the smoking order. She handled the onslaught of frenetic responsibility like master she was, a fourth-generation dough slinger who loved her heritage. Gina only hated the business after she married Vic and he took over. With him out of the picture she would finally succeed. If the mission took her dead sister Betsy’s ex-convict bum of an ex-husband to pull it off, so be it. The family legacy mattered more than morality.
Looks like she’s busy, JayJay Bone said.
So ask Mom.
Staunch Catholic JayJay Bone glared.
Now a work crew arrived with a letter from the bishop attesting to their essential labor. Within a short time they pulled down the old red neon sign that said “V C’S” because the bulbs in the “I” had burned out. After a few minutes more the crew erected the new sign. A massive cheer went up when Gina threw the switch on the flashing blue and white words that read, “Blessed Mama Mia’s Pizza.”
Joining the crowd, Sal blessed himself.
It’s a miracle, he said.