C6 / Carlo

Posted on Thu 17th Jan, 2019 @ 1:12am by Carlo Rienzi

920 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Oblivion

A very tall woman and a comparatively very small girl walked into the pizza parlor. "Mr. Rienzi," the girl said, walking across the room to the proprietor, "Do you have a vat of Marasca worms?"

Carlo blinked and shot a "Huh?!" glance at her mother, who he knew because she had bought bloodwine from him before, then he returned his attention to the little girl. "Ah....I've never heard of Marasca worms," Carlo said. "Are you maybe looking for jellied candy worms soaked in maraschino liqueur?" he asked, pronouncing it 'mara-SKEE-no.' "I could make some of that for you, but it would take a couple of weeks to get the full flavor."

"Ah, yes," Chlamydia said. "You're from New York City, aren't you? Not actually from Italy. Ah, well. I suppose you might not have encountered the Marasca worm. They're specially bred to produce maraschino cherries from the Marasca variety."

"Never heard of any marasca worms; just marasca cherries," Carlo said. He looked at Six. "Do you know where the word 'marasca' comes from?"

"It comes from Maraschino, Italy," Six answered. "Where they first discovered the worms which bear the name. Over the centuries, they've been selectively bred to love the pits of cherries, but hate the meat. So they eat through at the shortest path... through the depression where the stem was, and then, because they can't turn around, out through the bottom of the cherry. In the process, chemicals in their skins create the lovely, hyper-red color we associate with the name."

Chlamydia nodded agreeably. "You can see why they'd want to preserve the secret."

Carlo blinked a few times and finally figured it out. "Oh, completely," he said with a nod to Chlamydia. "I actually don't use those hyper-red cherries," he said to Six. "I use real marasca cherries soaked in maraschino liqueur, which is made from marasca cherries. They're named that because they're bitter. No worms allowed; that's why my cherries are all dark. See?" He reached behind the bar and pulled up a small glass jar full of maraschino cherries to show her. He looked over at Chlamydia. "They really are soaked in liqueur, so is it all right if I offer her one? No hard feelings if you say no."

Six looked up at Chlamydia, though she said nothing. Chlamydia smiled at the little girl, then turned her attention to the restaurateur. "One, I think, would be acceptable."

"Let me get a plate," Carlo said. He ducked into the kitchen for a moment and returned with a small dessert plate onto which he placed a relish fork with a flourish and handed Six the jar. "Enjoy!"

"Thank you, Mr. Rienzi," the girl said solemnly.

"You're welcome, cara bella," Carlo said. He glanced at Dr. Addams. "Would you like one too, Ma'am? I think I'd like one, myself."

"Thank you; I will pass," Chlamydia answered.

"Aw, you're missing out!" Carlo said. He glanced back at Six. "Now, kiddo, can I tempt you with a calzone? 'Cause my Nonna would never forgive me if I let you go away hungry. You need some meat on those bones--that's what she'd say."

"May we please, Aunt Chlamydia?" Six asked, and then popped her selected cherry into her mouth. She set the fork down on the bar, and looked at the Doctor with Bambi eyes.

Carlo snorted with laughter at the look on Six's face. "Don't show her Fantasia," he advised quietly, coming closer to the Doctor. "If she ever finds out about the Valse Triste Kitty, we're all doomed."

Chlamydia tilted her head for a moment, looking confused. "Ah. Allegro non Troppo. I can see where you might get them confused, but Fantasia has the piece by Mussorgski. I've always liked his first name: Modest. I suspect he might be a relative."

"Oh, is that the name of the song? Someone told me the wrong thing ages ago." Carlo leaned his head to one side. "Modest, huh? Your family does come up with the weirdest, most unusual names," he remarked. "In a family where they name people stuff like Chlamydia, Ischemia, and Purulence, they couldn't have come up with something for your niece like Lyssa, or Monochromacy, or Mycorrhiza? Where did they come up with Experiment Number Six?"

The doctor shrugged. "The first five were not viable." She watched as the child in question probed the bottle of Maraschino cherries with the long, slender fork, attempting to select the best specimen.

Carlo looked shocked. "I'm so sorry. Her mother lost five before her? That's awful!" He shook his head. "You don't hear too much about babies that die, anymore. Even with all the medical advances we've got, I guess it still happens, though. Anyway, if Six were my daughter, I'd name her Monochromacy. Missy for short." He winked at Chlamydia. "Probably a good thing she isn't my daughter. And I'm probably being rude, but hey, I'm from the bad part of Manhattan."

"I suppose," Chlamydia answered Six's question with a smile. "Though I doubt Mr. Rienzi has mole feet or gopher loaf to put on. We'll probably have to settle for Italian Sausage and Pepperoni." She paused a moment. "Do you suppose we should get a pie, instead, and carry it home to share with Aunt Ischemia and Aunt Purulence?"

Carlo shot a horrified glance at Chlamydia. "Ah, did you really just say gopher... loaf? And, ah, mole feet?"

 

RSS Feed