The Garage

Maria and Carmen DiLilliano had some friends over. They were contacting the dead and wanting to speak to an old friend who recently passed, using a trumpet. They frequently held a séance in their home for various purposes and usually met their goals.

Sal, their grandson, was spending the night at their house, and they put him to bed maybe a little earlier than usual. It is not his time yet to learn of these things. He had heard them talking about the cone or the trumpet before but never ventured to see what was happening.

However, he got out of bed when he heard talking in the living room. He was a very curious and sneaky six-year-old, and being the oldest grandbaby, as Grandma calls him, he can get away with things a little easier, at least as far as his mother’s parents are concerned.

He snuck down the hall and watched. They all sat around a card table covered with a green cloth. A cone was on the table, and Grandma and Grandpa had four friends over. The room was bright enough to see what was happening, but no lights were on. Candles, a lot of them, illuminated the room.

One of the friends, Mike, said to join hands. They all closed their eyes, and Mike asked Nunzio to come and talk to them.

A short time later, the cone moved towards Grandpa. Gus said, “Carmen, it looks like Nunzio wants to talk to you. He rolled the trumpet to you.”

“Nunzio, are you here?” Carmen asked out loud.

After a minute, he asked again, a bit louder.

From the cone, a whispering voice, “Carmen. Be careful. Evil is watching you.”

It was slow, one word at a time. I could barely hear it because it was a scary whisper, unlike a regular voice. The voice sounded like the wind was talking to me.

I remember Nunzio. He came to Sunday dinner a few times, but he died. That’s when it hit me. They were talking to someone dead.

I ran back to my bed and hid under the covers. It scared me to the bones. I heard a voice that I should not have heard. It took me a long time to go to sleep that night. I felt like someone was in the room with me, watching me, touching me on the shoulder like Nunzio used to do when he saw me.

When I woke up in the morning, I walked into the living room, and everything was put away. Grandma was making breakfast, and Grandpa was downstairs at the Dry Cleaners, opening it up for the day.

In the afternoon, Grandpa found me. He asked, “Come on, let’s get in the machine and get ice cream.”

Sal heard his grandfather say the magic words, Ice Cream! Carmen DiLilliano was a man from the old country. He was born in Southern Italy, with old-world Italian Superstitions, beliefs, and fears. All wrapped up in a man admired by his grandson Salvatore. Going to get a treat was not rare, but walking out of the apartment in the old part of far east Cleveland, something felt different.

The two walked hand in hand down the stairs, and Sal stopped in front of the garage. A moment later, Carmen felt it. Something was in the garage. They needed to get in there. That’s where the car was; Grandpa called it the machine.

Carmen opened the swinging door, left then right sides, and a moment later, the clouds passed in front of the sun, and the inside of the unattached garage became as dark as night. 

Sal looked into the space and saw a pair of glowing red orbs, maybe six feet off the ground.

“Grampa? What’s that?”

Carmen looked at the red glow and held his grandson’s hand tightly. 

“Sal, that is the devil. He is here to hurt us. But, if we are strong and show no fear of him, he will go away.”

Sal asked, “What does the devil want with us?”

Carmen lowered himself until he was eye to eye with Sal, “He wants our souls.” 

He spoke quietly, sincerely, and intensely. Nothing else needed to be said.

Carmen raised a fist, index, and pinky extended, and said loudly, “Il male scomparirà per la grazia di Dio!”

I was still holding Grandpa’s hand, and I saw the way he pointed his hand at the devil. I lifted my other hand in a fist and extended my index and little finger similarly. I repeated the words Grandpa said, but the voice coming from my mouth was not mine. I did not speak Italian, but the words came from me easily. Grandpa did not flinch. He kept repeating those words. 

The red lights, I realized were the eyes of the beast, floated up near the ceiling and became very bright. Grandpa and I kept the words and our hands unchanged until they vanished. One second, they were there. The next, they were gone.

Before the devil vanished, he said one word to us. The sound was terrible, scary, and inhuman. He said, “Stregone!”

We got into the car and headed to our favorite place, Martin’s Ice Cream, on Euclid Avenue. We did not speak in the car for the fifteen-minute ride, and after we both got our cones, we sat at a table. No one was around us.

Carmen said, “Sal. There are some things about our family that you need to know. In the future, you may be in danger. Like we were a short time ago.”

I listened intently. He continued, “Stregone is the Italian word for a male witch. A lady would be a Strega.”

“Grandma is a Strega?” I asked.

He paused a few moments, thinking about how to word this carefully for a six-year-old. 

“That makes me a Stregone, too, Grandpa. Right?” I smiled at him.

“Are you scared?” He asked.

“I was, but after I said those words and pointed at the eyes, the fear went away. I felt warm like Mommy and Grandma were holding me.”

We ate some of our cones since it was warm for a late summer in Cleveland. When I finished mine, I said, “Grandpa, don’t be mad, but last night, I sneaked to the living room and saw what you were doing. I heard Mr. Nunzio talking. But he died. I remember when I saw him in the funeral home.”

“We did. Our family can speak to the dead sometimes. It may or may not work. But we like to try. Last night, Nunzio told me to be aware of the evil. I am being watched, but in the garage today, I realized I was not being watched. Sal, the devil is watching you. He wants you. Do not let him grab ahold of you or your soul. He is darkness. We are Stregone di luce, witches of the light. We fight evil; sometimes, like in the garage, evil confronts us. Never be afraid of it because I see you are strong. I felt it today.”

We talked for a little more and got back into the car.

“Never tell any of this to your mother. She does not believe it. She told me never to say any of this to you, but you must be aware and prepared for your future after today. I will prepare you for your battles with the devil.”

As they pulled into the yard, shut off the car, and got out, Sal grabbed and hugged his grandfather’s legs, “I love you, Grandpa!”

“I love you, too!”