Goliarda Sapienza - The Art of Joy

‘Signorina Elena is not at fault, Beatrice. I’m the one who ordered her to open the drapes.’

‘What do you mean, she’s not at fault? I reminded her many times! She’s a woman, isn’t she? And it’s clear that you, like Carlo, have so many things to think about that it’s up to us women to look after your well-being and everything that concerns the home.’

‘If this bothers you so much, Beatrice, we’ll talk about it.’

‘Of course it bothers me! I had to follow my husband, and I feel responsible seeing all this.’

Under Carlo’s terrified eyes I rushed to support her. In the soft gloom of an earlier time, she clings to me and weeps. And like then, I find my hands circling her slender waist.

‘Oh, Modesta, hold me close! You’re not angry at me, are you? I’m so awful! I left you all alone. I was horrid to Pietro, too. I saw him looking at me hatefully. He’s never looked at me that way, and he’s right because I was unfair. And you, too, were bad, Argentovivo. Go away, get out of my sight!’

‘Go, Argentovivo. Leave us alone.’

‘Yes, that’s right, chase her out! She, too, was horrid. Instead of calming me down … I was awful to Carmine as well. It’s dreadful, Modesta. He’s dead! I didn’t know he was going to die.’

‘No one could have known, Beatrice.’

‘I should have gone to see him, at least one last time.’

‘I went for you as well.’

‘You’re so good. You went … I … I was afraid … And the one … the one who was born? You didn’t keep him, did you, Modesta? Tell me you didn’t keep him.’

‘On the contrary, I had to keep him. I was compelled to.’

‘You, compelled? Don’t make me laugh! Who can compel you to do anything?’

‘Uncle Jacopo.’

‘What?’

‘Yes, he’s come back, but not in a dream like before. In flesh and blood, a little baby, with his eyes. He’s been reborn.’

‘And how do you know that?’

‘I saw him. And I’ll bet that if you see him, you will recognize him too.’

‘Oh, let’s go see. It seems incredible! Where is he? Where is he? I want to see him!’

* * *

In the room with Stella

‘You’re right, Modesta, he’s his exact likeness. But not the colour of his eyes. There’s no way you could know this. Uncle Jacopo had blue eyes, whereas this Jacopo has grey eyes, like Nonna Gaia. Will you let me hold him, Stella, now that he’s been fed? Oh, how long he is! But will you have enough milk for both of them?’

‘Oh, Princess, this picciriddu is a blessing! Look here, my breasts are bursting.’

‘Just look at his tiny hands, Modesta: such long fingers, and with oval nails! His hands, Modesta. Thank God you recognized him right away, thank God! And you, Argentovivo, stop crying and go and tell Pietro you’re sorry. It’s all your fault! But of course, everyone knows that you people from the continent don’t understand a thing! How happy Nonna Gaia will be over this return. You have no idea how much she loved Uncle Jacopo. They were always bickering, but they loved each other very much.’

Argentovivo and Pietro were arguing in the corner, or rather, Pietro was repeatedly nodding his head under the flood of words Argentovivo was spewing out.

* * *

‘Well! Did you two make up? Oh, Modesta, those two argue so much that I get the impression they might be in love. What a couple! I’m only sorry we lost Carmelo, because now we could have filled Uncle Jacopo’s room, like Nonna always wanted, and not only that one … What if we were to buy the villa back again now that Carmine is dead, Modesta? What do you say? Think how happy Nonna would be! Eriprando in the room upstairs, Jacopo in his own room. And God willing!.. here, haven’t you noticed anything? Put your hand on my belly. Feel it?’

‘How far along, Beatrice?’

‘It’s been two months since I’ve bled.’

‘Does Carlo know?’

‘No. In keeping with tradition, you had to be the first to know. Place your palms, like that, and bless this child for me.’

‘I bless you, Beatrice.’

‘Oh, if only God grants me a boy! Ignazio must come back. Ignazio was so handsome, the best looking of all!’

‘Ignazio will return, Beatrice, but the villa at Carmelo must remain the Tudias’.’

‘Why do you say that, Modesta?’

‘Because we can’t wrong Carmine when he’s dead, and you know that.’

‘I know. Carmine, dead, must be respected.’

‘This picciriddu never cries, Princess. I’m amazed! He opens his eyes, sucks his milk, and sleeps peacefully. Look at him! I can’t get over it: he seems like a grown man, this Jacopo … I shouldn’t say it, but in just three months he’s become more of a son to me than this ’Ntoni, who can never get enough.’

‘But your ’Ntoni is beautiful, Stella!’

‘Well … I don’t know about beautiful, Princess! But he’s capricious and headstrong! Just like his father. I sense that, like him, he’ll give me a lot of trouble.’

‘Not necessarily, Stella, if you raise him differently.’

‘Do you mean that a person’s destiny can be changed, Princess?’

‘Everything can be changed, Stella.’

‘Still no rain! This summer never seems to end! My father said that thirty years ago the heat and humidity went on until the Day of the Dead. “It’s a bad sign!” he said. “The dead are thirsty.” And there were great misfortunes that year. If only the rain would come to cleanse people’s souls … Everyone seems to have gone crazy, both on the island and on the continent, chasing after these carusi in black shirts. We can always expect misfortunes from the continent!’

‘Are you worried about your brothers, Stella?’

‘Not only them! Those Fascists have captivated Melo, too, with their talk, and he went with them to Rome. I don’t want to think about it. Not actually Rome, but nearby, a town called Tivoli.’

‘Melo? But I thought he had gone to America.’

‘Exactly! But he stopped in Rome first … it’s raining up there, he wrote … and then he’s going to sail from Naples. If only it would rain here too, at least!’

‘It will rain, Stella. And don’t worry about the men. Beatrice’s husband also had to go to Rome. Melo and Carlo will be back; don’t upset yourself. You don’t want your milk to turn to water, do you?’

‘You’re right. We women shouldn’t worry too much about them. Who understands them, all that running around they do? Stella is a woman, she’ll calm down, she knows she must simply do her duty.’

‘Good night, Stella.’

‘To you as well, Voscenza , may you sleep well.’

Stella smiles, and the dim light that illuminates her face becomes brighter. One more glance around the big room in shadow, at the two little cribs side by side back there, where Jacopo and ’Ntoni are lying, and Modesta — like every night — can return to the quiet of her bedroom.

On the table, a small white pipe gleams among the books; she fills it. And she sits at the window, smoking in the dark and staring at the sky. ‘ Smoking collects the good thoughts of the day and drives out those that are as insidious as the drone of ’u marranzanu.’ 55Carmine’s voice coils round and round the smoke without startling Modesta. The gentleness of that voice was a sign of the fatal sentence she had sought in vain in his chest, in his eyes. And maybe, Modesta thinks, maybe this peace that has accompanied my every move for months and months is a sign that La Certa has decided to interrupt my journey too …

A distant flash of lightning, followed by muffled thunder, breaks through the heat’s defences, making the trees flinch. The silent lightning unleashed on the night’s broad canvas performs arabesques and Catherine wheels 56as complicated as the fireworks that enthral Eriprando at Pentecost. Mesmerized, like him, by the imaginary pyrotechnics, I almost don’t hear the door opening softly behind me. It’s him!.. Can someone you’ve met as though in a nightmare reappear before you, alive? Or have I been dreaming again? Slowly, Mattia stands before me in the dark. I can’t see him but I recognize his silence … the ominous silence of a hostile dog or animal. Or is it youth that breathes like that? Now he takes a step toward me and I too am forced to move to the table that divides us and grab the pistol with one hand while turning on the lamp with the other.