Giovanni! Giovanni! Com in’a side forget’a newspaper – it’s the bambino, our bambino is coming!
Go fetch’a Carmella – go get’a Maria, she’s downstairs. (loudly) You hear me Giovanni?
You hear’a me?
You just like all the men, a chicken, like’a hen from your yard in Sicily. (Louder) I work all day Giovanni, all day I work, scrubb’in your back – all that soot, it makes a big’a mess.
(Touching belly, now laying flat on bed.)
This’a bambino, it’s a big’a one. Maria, my pison’ I tell’a her it’s a big bambino.
Maria! Maria! You are here Maria. . . Thank’a the good lord, bless you my friend.
(Holding hands on either side of her belly.)
This’a bambino want’s out! Out! Giovanni he runs to fetch the woman, you’a know, Carmella. Carmella, the midwife. She’s a good lady.
No Maria! Let me alone, I don’t want sheets over me, it’s a so hot, my sweat – pou’in like’a bowl of pasta into a sink to drain. Wipe it. Wipe right’a here. (Points to her forehead.)
Good’a job, good’a job.
I hear, Carmella she comes.
You see’a I gotta big bambino in here.
Maria, you fetch some old cloths, we’a gonna need’a lot for this’a one.
You ask me to push? Push! Hail Mary, I will’a push to mee3t’a bambino.
More? Maria, you too, push with me. Make’a sound, loud sound. Ah……!!!!!
Maria, where you go?
Well hurry get’a the water, she’a said near the foot of the bed.
Where’s Giovanni? Oh, this’a bambino is gonna kill’a me.
Giovanni, he hids like a hoodlum, a thief, this is his’a bambino too – this’a bambino it’s a his’a fault.
We no play, all hard’a work – it take’a too long to make a bambino. Now’a mor to wash and scrub with’a these hands.
Push, push, push, again! Maria! Giovanni, where the hell are you?
Carmella you want’a me to keep pushin and keep a talking. . .
Maria, don’t tell me too push.
Maria, wipe my forehead, and scream’a with me.
Giovanni brings me here to some big shot city, he’s a not a happy with his’a work. I tell him, go back. Go back home to Sicill’ia, go pick the olives off the earth, shove’em into a bag – work, like this bambino – work bangin’ those trees.
His’a family pay the same’a man, who is a nosey, he’a comes to the house for money and he stares with big’a eyes. Not like in Amer-i-ca
Not like’a this. . .
I’m a pushing, I’m a pushing, pushing.
Whew, I forget what’a I was saying?
Maria, you promise you catch’a the bambino when it falls, only you.
I push on my’a own belly.
Maria – Maria get ready. . . Now scream with’a me, now. . .
Giovanni, I’m’a gonna kill’a you.
Oh Maria, Maria, it’s all cooked, done. . . it’s my bambino, my bambino. . .
Giovanni you can’a come’a in’a side now.
We name him Frankie, after your Papa.