Goliarda Sapienza - The Art of Joy

Modesta: ‘I’m not worried in the least. I had given Carlo a gun and he promised me he would carry it.’

Jose: ‘Clearly, he didn’t have it with him.’

Modesta: ‘But why, Jose, why?’

Jose: ‘You know Carlo, you know what he thinks about it.’

Modesta: ‘I’m sorry, Jose. I keep asking things I know the answer to. It’s just that I can’t come to terms with it; forgive me. Tell me, did you recognize who they were?’

Jose: ‘It was dark. Plus, I’ve been away from Catania for some time. Maybe Pasquale…’

Pasquale: ‘I recognized three of them, Modesta.’

Modesta: ‘Tell me their names, Pasquale.’

Pasquale: ‘It’s not women’s business. Never mind.’

Modesta: ‘Either you tell me their names or I won’t speak to you again. And I’ll keep my eye on you constantly, as though you were a traitor!’

Pasquale: ‘But I’m doing it to protect you, Modesta. If you know it, you’ll be in danger … Oh well! Two of them I either didn’t know or didn’t have time to really study, but one was Ciccio Musumeci with his brother Turi, and the other one was that Tudia who rides around on a motorcycle. I saw him clearly because, when Jose shot him in the leg, he fell on top of me and I had to get him off me so I could get up from the ground and run away.’

Modesta: ‘You said Jose shot him in the leg?’

Pasquale: ‘And how! A serious wound, I think, because he actually collapsed on me. As you know, he’s a giant. A grazing wound wouldn’t even have made him sway.’

Modesta: ‘Did you see his hair?’

Pasquale: ‘No, he was wearing his motorcycle helmet.’

Mattia! ‘ I’ll have you even if I have to kill everyone around you! I’m leaving, or I’ll kill you and all those friends of yours! ’

* * *

I waited for hours at the window, peering through the moon’s wintry rays, which stung my eyelids, burning with doubt and tears. The woods stretched out quietly, relishing an indifferent silence: ‘ I have some business in Modica. We won’t see each other for a week…’ Would he come? Why that information? He had never spoken to me about his comings and goings before. ‘ We Tudias are like that. When something stands in our way, we very slowly and patiently remove it, gently or harshly, depending on the situation…’ Who is that son of yours, Carmine? Who is that young man who, like a cat, like a hare, is able to slink through the trees in the moonlight like that, shrinking his body into a swift, weightless shadow?

‘What’s wrong, Modesta? Why are you standing there all dressed? Were you waiting for me?’

‘I was waiting for you, Mattia.’

‘And why the gun in your hand? I sensed it. As soon as I got off my horse, I could feel that the house was different. Why the light on the first floor?’

‘Better yet, tell me: when did you get back?’

‘Are you jealous, Modesta? Put down that gun. I want to take you in my arms … You’re jealous — tell the truth — and you want to scare me.’

‘How is your brother Vincenzo?’

‘That’s what I wanted to tell you. I’m late because when I got back from Modica tonight, I found him in bed.’

‘With a shattered leg.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘My brother-in-law saw him.’

‘Your brother-in-law in a tavern in the Civita? 60What was he doing there?’

‘He wasn’t at the Civita, Mattia! Your brother lied to you, and from what I heard, he uses your motorcycle.’

‘Yes, sometimes he does.’

‘He lied to you, Mattia; it happened in Via dei Tipografi.’

‘What happened? Don’t keep me on tenterhooks; don’t make me drag it out of you. Tell me, what happened?’

‘Five of them attacked Carlo, and he’s fighting for his life in that lighted room you saw.’

‘And my brother is supposed to be one of the five? I don’t believe it. Who says so?’

‘Your brother was one of the five. Carlo himself, my brother-in-law, saw him. He recognized a Tudia among those five!’

‘A Tudia? So then you and your brother-in-law also had doubts about me? Well? Lower that gun.’

‘No, not until you put my keys on the desk.’

‘Then you still suspect me? How can that be?’

‘Too many threats, Mattia! Threats eat away like woodworms.’

‘Put down the gun. You’re right: Mattia is a lunatic. He can’t control himself. That’s just what I was thinking on my way here. This damned temperament of mine! Always leading others to doubt me. The more I love them, the more … Goodbye, Modesta! I see only darkness before me. Nothing tells me you don’t love me more than your unmoving face and the doubt that’s devouring you. Farewell, I’m going to that traitor, that Judas Iscariot. I’ll make him talk, and if it’s true, I’ll kill him and I’ll kill myself, so help me God!’

* * *

‘Modesta! Finally! Why are they treating me as if I were a child? They forbid me to do anything! I have to talk to you.’

‘Why, why? Many times you treated us like children; now it’s your turn, right, Antonio? What did you think, that being a doctor would excuse you from having to lie in bed and take orders? So we’re getting even, aren’t we, Elena? For all the times you…’

‘You’re so sweet, Modesta! You’re right. But please, I need to be alone with you for just one moment. Please send them away.’

His face, unmarked until a few hours ago, was now covered with splotches and bruises, some red, some bluish. What did those throbbing veins mean? And those tortuous contusions that ran down from his forehead to his neck like crazed animals? And since Antonio was going out the door, gesturing to Elena to follow him, did it perhaps mean that now it was pointless to make him keep silent?

‘Let’s hear what this child has to say. What is it that’s so urgent, Carlo? But speak softly; your chest will hurt.’

‘More than pain, an obsession is weighing on my chest, Modesta, an obsession that won’t let me breathe.’

‘What obsession, Carlo?’

‘I feel guilty, Modesta, toward you, toward Beatrice, and for that newborn child.’

‘But why?’

‘I didn’t want to use your gun. You were right, Modesta, but I couldn’t! Every morning I looked at it, I could hear your voice, but my aversion was stronger and I would close the drawer again.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Now you must only think of getting well.’

‘I can’t stand violence, Modesta. There must be another way. I’m sure that in fifty or a hundred years, humanity will find another way.’

‘Of course, Carlo.’

‘And if I were to die … No Modesta! Don’t turn so pale! I have no intention of meeting La Certa , as you call her. That lady doesn’t appeal to me in the least, but if she were to—’

‘If she were to … Carlo?’

‘Protect me from those black cassocks, from those crucifixes and mournful dirges, possibly even more grim than the idea of death itself.’

‘Of course, Carlo. As you’ve seen, no priest has entered this room. They’ve tried, you know. But Jose chased them away.’

‘Oh, really? He threw them out? How did they know?’

‘“ They have a trained nose for it, and there’s no way to hide from their wings ” … as you’ve told me many times.’

‘Oh, Modesta, your words are reassuring. Protect me from Beatrice — afterwards as well. Beatrice is strong, Modesta, I’m afraid of her.’

‘But you know that I’m stronger than her, Carlo.’

‘That’s the reason I had them bring me here. Promise me.’

‘I promise, Carlo.’

‘Thank you. I’m at peace now.’

‘Now you must stop talking and sleep.’

‘Yes, of course. But tomorrow will you read to me a little?’