Frank Polizzi - Somewhere in the Stars

“You’re full of crap, Nick.” Nathan rubbed his chin. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that my parents would be so grateful for what you’re going to do. Not that they would change their minds about Deborah and you, but…”

“I understand. It’s a family thing. I’m not happy about it, but don’t go bangin’ your head on a wall.”

“You’re a real pal. What else can I say?”

“Do me favor, will you?”

“Sure.”

“Keep an eye out for Caterina. Be nice to her.”

“I’ll treat her like my sister.” Nathan responded with a smart alec grin.

“Swell. Remember, a sister.” Nick faked a jab to Nathan’s stomach and left.

The next day, after a quiet breakfast of stale bread and unsweetened coffee made with chicory, sugar being rationed, Caterina took Nick along on a walk to meet an old friend at Caffé Minerva on Piazza del Comune . She told him that Isabella and she had met at the university. Her friend had returned to her hometown, Assisi, to work for the local bishop as a cook, the only job she could get during the war. Nick nodded when Caterina explained that Isabella had been stealthily passing messages for Padre Esposito because the OVRA had been monitoring him. Minchia, he mumbled to himself, these two women in their own ways knew how to survive by their wits and nerve.

They found the piazza without getting lost. Isabella was already sitting in the café with a good view of the Tempio di Minerva with its six Corinthian columns and Roman pediment that fronted a church. Isabella vigorously waved to Caterina who ran over to her friend, while Nick admired Caterina’s glimmering, brown hair bouncing on her shoulders. They kissed and hugged so much that they caught the attention of everyone sitting. Nick was amused by their flamboyant affection and got a load of the long-legged Isabella who was more buxom than Caterina.

“Come bella appari, Caterina .”

“Basta, Isabella, imbarazzarmi! Parla l’inglese come ci abituavamo in università.”

“Certo. You are still beautiful after all you have been through.”

“No, the men always look at you. Mi scusi , I am being so rude.” Caterina put her hand on Nick’s forearm. “Isabella, this is Nick, an American friend of mine.”

“ Piacere ,” he said and shook Isabella’s hand.

Isabella turned away from Nick and looked Caterina up and down. “As God is my judge, I have seen your face in several frescoes here.” Caterina blushed as her friend motioned towards the wirebacked chairs. “Let’s sit down and enjoy the view.”

“Signorine, I’ll leave you two school buddies alone.”

“ Prego , sit with us,” Isabella protested, while Caterina tugged him down.

Isabella called the waiter over and they ordered cappuccino. Nick opted for un caffè and as the girls chatted, he could see their school bond surfacing, punctuated by the laughter of Isabella, who was prone to snapping her head backwards when something was funny, her curly, black hair floating over her shoulders. He noticed how Caterina absorbed her friend’s infectious humor.

“Ecco, the cappuccino has arrived,” Isabella called out to the waiter who placed the c appuccino in front of her with flair.

Caterina took her time scraping a teaspoon of sugar from a chipped, porcelain bowl and stirring it into the coffee. She looked into the cup as she spoke. “Nick is going to get himself killed.”

Isabella looked confused, as Caterina looked away. “ Non capisco , Caterina.”

Nick raised his right palm out. “Let’s not talk about it.”

“Prego, now I must know. Speak sotto voce.”

“Do you want me to leave you two alone?”

“No, sta qui Nicolo ,” Isabella responded. “You are too handsome to leave.” Isabella laughed and bent forward to Caterina.

“He volunteered to rescue someone. And Padre Esposito blessed the choice of Nick over his best friend, Nathan.”

“ Mi dispiace . But what can you do about this?” She sat up straight.

“ Niente , except worry every moment Nick’s gone.”

Isabella grasped Caterina’s trembling hand and said to Nick: “The Goddess Minerva will protect you.”

“I wish I could be as sure as you,” Nick said.

Isabella let her friend’s hand go. “We need to laugh when there is sadness, otherwise these dark days will consume us.”

“It feels like ancient times when we studied with Rachele at the Università di Padova ,” Caterina said. “How is she doing now?”

Isabella lowered her voice. “Rachele is still hiding here in the convent of the Poor Clares, even though she doesn’t have to.”

“Rachele is the other reason I came to Assisi. I never told Nick about her.” She looked at him as he played with the espresso cup. “But I worry about her.” Her eyes dampened. “I wanted to see her again.”

“It continues to be a sad story. Anch’io sono molte preoccupata perla. I try not to dwell too much on her condition. Allora , we need to bring sunshine into our lives.” Her laugh seemed to accentuate her breasts or that’s how Nick perceived it. Caterina eyed Nick who smiled back. “Let’s talk about our happy times at the università ,” Isabella continued, while Caterina dug out the remains of the crema from her cappuccino and spooned it into her mouth. Nick and Caterina exchanged curious glances at each other while her friend dominated most of the conversation.

The following evening was hot, so Caterina and Nick stayed up late before retiring to separate cells. During their visit they had spent a lot of time reading to pass away the hours in the monastery. They had tired of their books and sat on a stone bench in the garden near a cluster of high growing, pink roses. There was a well in the center on the sacred ground of St. Francis. Nick appeared distracted, so Caterina put his head on her lap.

“What happened to the crown of your hair?”

“ Fra ’ Ginepro was my barber.” Nick snickered. “Padre Esposito said if I didn’t have the tonsure, it would be a dead giveaway that I wasn’t a monk.”

“Madonna. What’s next? Why did you volunteer to go anyway, when it’s Nathan’s cousin and not yours?”

“We already went over this. He’s more vulnerable. Stop worrying, will ya! Padre Esposito said you and Nathan could stay in the monastery till I get back.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. The partigiano from Ancona will pick me up before the breakfast hour. He’ll drive us back there subito .”

“Suppose you never come back.”

Nick didn’t want to discuss the danger of Carlo’s rescue and took a cue from nature.

“Do you hear that hermit thrush? It’s such a beautiful song.”

“I can’t hear or see anything.” Her eyes were watery and she turned away. “Why do you talk of birds now?”

“I associate good things when I hear birds. It makes me forget bad things that ring in your head as if you’re sitting next to the bells in a campanile .”

She bit her lip. “The walls are blocking what little breeze there is tonight.”

“Winds have a way of shifting unexpectedly, Papà used to tell me when I was a kid. My father would to take me sailing…” Nick recalled running to Paul’s house, telling him in detail about his sea adventure. He rose up from her lap and remained silent for a while.

“Finish, your story, Nicky.” He remembered that Deborah used to call him that and then he became even more distant from Caterina. “You’re far away from me now, even though I feel your leg rubbing against mine.”