Paranormal Pizza Parlor

 

Synopsis:  Ricky Spumoni and his younger brother have inherited Paulo’s Pizza, an Italian eatery and treatery known for a century plus of excellence.   When they bring their girlfriends to the parlor for a date, they find a secret entrance that leads to a room Grandpa Paulo’s own father Stephano once owned.   Apparently, Paulo never left and he holds game nights for his friends as well as a roller rink for the kiddos. 

 

~*~CAST~*~

Paulo Spumoni—deceased

Grace Spumoni—grandma

Clarita Spumoni—mom

Luigi Spumoni—dad

Richard ‘Ricky’ Spumoni—eldest

Franklin ‘Frankie’ Spumoni—youngest

June Eliza Spumoni—to be born

Stoopy Joe—a tall ghost

Fat Tuesday—a fat ghost

Ollie—a skinny ghost

Matilda—a knitting ghost

 

Chapter 1—What Wasn’t Listed in the Will

                Ricky and Frankie were inseparable even though months separated their dates of birth.   Ricky was always the outgoing, boisterous, likeable type, while his brother Frankie was more subdued, logical and shy, but could be quite fun-loving when the right people were around.  

                These two inherited their grandfather’s parlor.   They were all Italian by birthright but had never been back to the Motherland.   They knew stories and they had heard tales told by Paulo many times over of how he had seen the worst of WW II and how fascism can completely ruin a country from the ground up.   He didn’t like telling his story to that many people because it hurt his patriotic pride, but he still adored ‘Mama Italia’.   

                Before he had died, Paulo left a will and testament to the family to run his diner just as he had for almost a century past.   Before him, his father and grandfather entertained countless guests, but even Paulo didn’t know Stephano entertained some questionable guests in the parlor.    Even up above, there had been a roller rink that had been cobweb-covered since its last use in the 1970s, undiscovered, tat is, until now.

 

Chapter 2—As Friday Winds Down

                It was interesting that Ricky and Frankie started dating at the same time but the two were so charismatic and popular among their female peers that only two girls suited their fancy.   There was one sweet young thing named Caroline that Ricky set his sights on.    She was the yang to his yin.   Easily complimenting each other, the two began as friends and the friendship deepened into respect and more profoundly, a lasting romance.  

                As for Frankie, the jelly to his peanut butter was a woman who was quite outspoken but, in every way, and manner a true gentlelady.   Tisha always spoke up for the underdog and took up the plight of the exploited and downtrodden.    She was truly a friend to the friendless and helped others find confidence in helping themselves.   

                It was a Friday, which meant Paulo’s would be jam-packed with business.  The Spumoni parents worked tirelessly to make certain everyone had a magnificent experience at the parlor and weren’t only fed handsomely but also enjoyed the retro-feel of an old-fashioned 1980’s arcade and pinball room that even included two claw machines that were easy to win stuffed animals from.    

                Clarita and Luigi had to head elsewhere for business meetings at their respective employers, which left Grace in charge.   The clientele was starting to peter out for the night as closing time approached.    Most of the employees had gone home to take care of random tasks and errands or see to their own children.  

                ‘I saw something not long ago, but I thought my eyes were deceiving me.’, Ricky said to Frankie.

                ‘I think your imagination gets the better of you, Rick.’, Frankie said, snidely.     Ricky scoffed, defiantly. 

                ‘You were with me the last time we were exploring this place.   I don’t even think Grandma has, and she keeps sayin’ she’s heard voices down in the basement.’, Ricky stated, starting to shiver.

Grace nodded.    She had never sat them all down and told them stories of the company that Stephano sometimes kept or the parties that Paulo hosted when others were unawares.    Paulo tended to be a bit of a partier and sometimes seedier individuals enjoyed his company, as much as Grace loathed to admit.

 

Chapter 3—With Permission

                Ricky wanted to ask permission to invite his sweetheart to the parlor.    Frankie joined in, more impulsively than he realized he had ever been before.   Being an adolescent sometimes meant he could be slightly irrational, but all he wished to do was show Tisha just how brave he could be.  

                ‘I’ll take you up on that, bro.’, he said, adding a playful wink.   Ricky was surprised that his younger brother had the backbone to head down to the basement, which was normally off limits to everyone.   It hadn’t been in use since Paulo died, and not even Grace had ventured down there. 

                ‘I get the feeling that Paulo is still there, having fun with his guests.   I can still hear him, and it’s dreadfully cold.   Brr, just gives me the shivers thinking of it.   I have the keys if you boys want them.   I don’t have any earthly idea what’s in the basement, honestly.   I never went down there when Paulo was having his ‘Vegas nights’.   I didn’t dare ask him, either.’, Grace confessed.      Grace hugged herself to keep the chill from shaking her to her core.    She ignored her fright, tossed Ricky the key to the basement and told the teens to ‘have at it’ for the night.    As far as she was concerned on this eerie Friday the 13^th, she was going to head home and watch something uplifting on the Hallmark channel to ease her mind and dismiss the thought of Paulo haunting the place. 

 

Chapter 4—As Teenagers Do

                Ricky and Frankie ventured into the dark, dingy, damp basement.    The musty, frigid place could certainly use a cleaning.   It hadn’t seen a broom or cleaner in decades and had the acrid stench of decay hanging around it.     Ricky and Caroline were getting a bit frisky while Tisha grasped Frankie’s arm for protection and comfort.    Frankie felt a jolt pass from his heels up his spine into his heart.

                ‘So this is what bravery and libido feel like !’, he thought, noticing his steady heartbeat was palpitating in her presence.    As the two began to make out, they bumped into a rather long-legged fellow.    The tall man had to stoop to greet them; his head nearly hit the ceiling.      He politely removed his bowler hat and introduced himself.

                ‘Have you seen Paulo ?   We’re supposed to be playin’ strip poker tonight.    I’m all in and I’ve got money to burn !’, the tall fellow said.    Another, fatter fellow appeared.

                ‘Stoop, you ain’t got nothin’ against my game !’, he trash talked his best friend.

                ‘Tuesday, you better put your money where your mouth is !’, Stoop threatened. 

                ‘Guys, I’m here to relax.   I’ve got knitting to do, an’ you’re bein’ too noisy !’, Matilda complained.  

                ‘Yeah !  Listen to Matilda.   Can’t we at least have a modicum of decorum around her ?  She’s trying to keep us warm in this ice box !’, Ollie said, supportively. 

                ‘Oh, Ollie, I always know I can count on you to stand up for the only chickadee in the group.’, Matilda said, hugging him.  

                The smooching teenagers stopped cold to see these 4 apparitions waiting for their host.   3 were prepared to play an intense round of strip poker into the wee hours of the morning.    Matilda, however, was simply there to knit the night away and be completely content at it.   

                ‘These are Paulo’s friends !’, Frankie squeaked, almost effeminately.    When frightened, the youngster tended to sound very feminine but that was only because he had hit puberty later than this elder brother had.   

                ‘We’d better leave…’, Ricky said, the fear cowing him for the first time in his life.   Usually Ricky was the brave, bold and unwavering leader.    However, in this instance, being surrounded by spirits had shaken him up something fierce.  

 

Chapter 5—What Are You Doing in my Basement ?

                Paulo didn’t seem to be amused that teenagers had come to his basement to ‘make whoopie’.    Of course, Tisha explained that none of them had even gotten to third base yet, and none of them desired to even cross that threshold until they were at least in their early twenties.    Paulo smiled that the teens, despite hormones, had square and steady heads on their shoulders and commended them.   Yet, he was still miffed they were in his territory, particularly on a poker night.   

                ‘This is my usual game night.   No one else knows about it.   Not even my wife.’, Paulo said, firmly.  

                ‘She does, though, Paulo.   You tried to hide it from her, but she could hear you guys playing and getting rowdy in the witching hour.’, Frankie said.   His timidness had disappeared.   Even Rick was awe-stricken his younger brother could stand up for himself even if he was completely terrified.  

                ‘Guess a married man can’t hide nothin’ in this world.’, Paulo said, with remorse.  

                ‘You have all been dead for years now.   I know this is your parlor and we’re doing our best to keep it running the way you’d like, but it seems you’ve got something here that could be useful.   This basement needs to be refurbished.   There’s even a roller rink here.   Do you know anything about it ?’, Rick questioned.  

                ‘Oh, I built that by hand.   I wanted something for the kids to use.   I came from a rather rough neighborhood and the rink was a way for my peers to escape harsh homelives.   At least for a while, I offered them a bit of sanctuary.’, Paulo said, a tear forming in his eye.   Apparently, Stephano had been abusive to him.   Paulo had never spoken of it much, but when it came to other men in his life, he was always distant, aloof and a bit of a people-pleaser.    He didn’t wish to burden anyone and only wanted to be useful, practical and praised for his hard work.    Once he had built the rink, Stephano was amazed at how Paulo had ‘applied himself’.    Before, it was always criticism on how he wouldn’t amount to anything and regrets on why Paulo had been born to begin with.

                ‘I suppose it is guilt.  Maybe shame.   This should’ve faded.   Maybe I’m stuck as a shade because I never got to see the rink fully succeed.   I was more concerned about living it up once Stephano kicked the bucket.   I never forgave him for thinking I was wasted air and space.’, Paulo admitted.    The tears in his eyes were hot, stinging and angry.    All these years he had harbored regrets he had never released.  

 

Chapter 6—Go Ahead and Ascend

                The teenagers convinced Paulo that they would do all they could to try and refurbish the rink and the basement.    The basement had immense potential and it would force Ricky and Frankie to think outside their comfortable boxes.   Eventually, it would become the vision that Paulo had longed for it to be.  

                It took months for the basement to be fully cleaned, but soon the basement had lent itself to bigger parties of people, a full roller rink, a dance hall for wedding recitals and a refined chianti cellar for the more adult clientele.    The Spumonis had nearly forgotten they had access to wineries.    This had also not been mentioned in the will, but Grace, Clarita and Luigi had begun to dig and discover whether the Spumoni legacy had ‘hidden money’.   Much to their surprise, the Spumoni family could start living a bit more luxuriously.    They weren’t Rockafeller rich, nor would they obtain Gatsby greatness, but having this kind of refinery was something they had always dreamt of.    Paulo’s truest vision, his legacy, the gift the Spumonis had acquired from ‘Mama Italy’ was all coming to a head.  

                Knowing what his family had aspired to and achieved, Paulo could at last go to his eternal reward.   His lingering regret over his dad had melted and he ascended to heaven.    As for the other resident ghosts, oddly enough, they had been friendly spirits attached to Paulo.   Without him, there was absolutely no reason to continue haunting the parlor.    Other guests didn’t even realize that the eatery and treatery had spooky guests, but to them, none of that even mattered.    Only the savory flavor of marinara, Italian standards, spumoni and gelato were truly important.  

 

                                                                                                 Epilogue

                If you should come to the Spumoni Pizza Parlor, do not be disappointed if you don’t encounter ghostly visitors.   All of them have left to their eternal reward and all that remains is the history of immigrants climbing the social ladder in the States to become successful.    Grace still tells stories of her husband’s shenanigans, but his playful legacy endures to this day.    The Spumoni brothers are grown up and own the business, having families of their own.    Grace is still around to spoil her great-great grandchildren rotten as all grandmothers are wont to do.    This year, the family made their peregrination to Mother Italy and returned with a tiramisu to positively die for.    I couldn’t recommend it more, other than the utterly delectable New York style pizza that is served with flair, a wink and a gregarious Italian smile.    

 

                                                                                               The End