All rights are reserved to the author. Reproduction and any other, even partial not authorized by the author, use, is prohibited. The text publication is permitted for non-profit educational and cultural purposes with the permission and authorization of the author. For any contacts with the author: idarenzicchi@katamail.com idarenzicchi@gmail.com
3/ FIRMINA “Little journey”
Written and translated from Italian by the author
ASCOLTA il racconto su file audio o su Youtube.
Voce narrante Giuliana Poleggi Quaranta
One evening, it was a Wednesday, Iole told us that, at the weekend, her children would be returning home and she did not know what to do with us. I told her not to worry, that I would have solved my problems but in reality I was really upset and had no idea about what I could have done and where we could have gone.
The first thing that came to my mind was to ask Alfio for hospitality. I had understood he lived alone and I therefore thought he could have helped me, even if only for a short period.
Early in the morning I got up, took Silvia and we left early. I wanted to know if I could count on him before going to work.
The door of the building was wide open and Alfio was washing the floor of the entrance hall. As soon as he saw us, he stopped his work and leaned against the jamb of the large wooden door. In short, I explained him my problem. I did not have the courage to ask him directly for help, but for advice. I asked him if he knew anyone who could rent me a room, I told him I was working and I could contribute, to a small extent, to the expenses.
“I imagined it… Iole’s apartment is too small for everyone… If her children arrive, where do you all settle down? What can I tell you Firmina? I have not the faintest idea, rents are very expensive here … I don’t think you, with your wages, would be able to pay for accommodation … “
I had hoped he would have proposed his help but at that point I ventured: “Alfio, isn’t it like you could host us… just for a while?” “I am really sorry… my apartment too is very small and, fundamentally, the condominiums know I have no family because they specifically asked me it when I arrived. How could I justify such a thing?… I would go to put myself in an unpleasant situation and, with the existing job crisis … there are many people who would aspire to a job like mine, lodging included… I’m sorry Firmina, I can’t take this risk… ” ” Please help us if you can! We could stay hidden, my child is quiet… and more, we will work till late in the evening… just at night, just for a few days until I find something else… Think about it, I would pay… “Alfio remained silent. I took Silvia by the hand, said him goodbye and we headed to work.
Raphal Olbinski, Alternative values
In the evening, as we were returning home, Alfio was waiting for us at a street corner. “Firmina, I’ve thought about it. I can’t tell you not, I would feel guilty all my life. A woman alone with a child … But only for a few days, and please don’t let the condos see you. I would like to avoid giving explanations they would not understand, they are rich … what do they know about our problems?… If they should really notice your presence, we will say you are my cousin, that you are a widow and that you only will stay a few days. Just to be on the safe side, don’t say anything to anyone, not even to your sister… I wouldn’t want her to say something unintentionally. I can’t do more, what do you say? ” I had tears in my eyes. I hugged him with enthusiasm and thanked him. In the light of the street lamps I realized he had turned red as a pepper … he was really a good Christian.
Back home I told Iole I had found temporary accommodation with a girl who worked in the factory so the next morning, as well as Silvia, I also took those four rags I had brought, put them in my suitcase and we went to our work.
Actually Alfio’s apartment, which was accessed by going down two steps, was narrow: a small room at the entrance that served as a living room with a sofa upholstered in a patterned fabric with a turquoise background, an old chair with armrests also upholstered in the same fabric, an old bedside table on which rested an abat-jour with a yellow lampshade and a small table that, once, must have been a game table. The kitchen, without a window, was actually a small corridor with an old gas stove, a hinged board to be raised as a table, three folding wooden chairs tucked between the fridge and the door and three formica-wood wall units. The bedroom consisted of a double bed, an old wardrobe with two doors and a bedside table like the one in the living room, with an abat-jour, with the same yellow lampshade. The bathroom also had no window: it was narrow and cramped. Above the sink, darkened by limestone and time, there was a glass shelf with everything needed to shave and a mirror of those that enlarge the image. At the end, there was the shower: only the tap and the water drain on the ground.
The first few days it had been difficult to convince her to stay alone in the house: she was afraid of being alone, she wanted to come with me and I had been forced to pull her behind me. She, poor innocent, did everything she could to make herself useful: she folded the laundry, swept the floor, dusted, dried the pots … Then, little by little I had adopted another system: we had dinner early and quickly, I put her to bed and I laid down next to her to reassure her until, tired, she fell asleep and I ran upstairs.
Both, the bedroom and the small room had a wolf’s mouth window overlooking an internal courtyard, a sort of open-air small space onto which the windows of the upper floors overlooked. As a matter of fact, the palace, seen from the main street, was beautiful and elegant but from this other perspective was only shabby.
“It’s very small, do you see?” Alfio almost wanted to justify himself. “Thank you, thank you! It’s true, it’s small, how can we settle down? “
Silvia and I slept in the room, on the bed and Alfio on the sofa which, being too short, he tried to extend by adding at the end the small armchair on which to place his feet in a really uncomfortable position.
In the morning we got up very early and went out when it was still dark as in the evening when we returned. We were the first to arrive at work and, of course, the last to go out in order to avoid being seen by Alfio’s condominiums.
All this had not escaped the eyes of the owners of the factory also because to pass the time, before the opening, we tidied up around and in the evening we swept thoroughly the whole laboratory while everyone else was pushing to get out. Silvia, in her little way, bustled about with a broom and a rag… poor creature….
A piece of pizza, a sandwich with mortadella, a packet of biscuits or crackers: we ate like this, something on the street so as not to bother.
We went on like this when one evening, while sweeping, Antonio came up: “Aren’t you in a hurry to go home? What does your husband say that you arrive so late? Could it be he is angry with us because he thinks we are holding you back to work after hours? Look, I don’t want to have anything to do with pissed-off husbands, pain in the ass unions and so on…! ” At that point I explained our situation to him. He listened in silence. The next day I was called to his office. There were Antonio and his wife. I was a little worried and, from anxiety and perhaps also from fatigue, my legs trembled a little so I gladly accepted to sit down when I was offered a chair.
The first to speak was Antonio. He said to me he had told his wife about my situation and they wanted to help me in some way. He told they were willing to offer me a small accommodation, where the caretaker used to live, consisting of a bedroom, kitchen and bathroom, in exchange for a rent that would have been deducted me directly from my salary. That way I could have lived peacefully with my little girl and been directly in the workplace, gaining time. I was left speechless: the only thing I was able to utter was: “How much would the rent cost?” Elena told me: “Don’t worry, it’s not a big amount, if you accept, we will deduct it directly from your salary … I am convinced you would be able to go on… otherwise there would be another possibility…” I could not connect, what other possibility could they have proposed me? “If you were willing to lend a hand to my wife in her house by helping her with the cleaning or when we have guests, we could grant you the accommodation in exchange for your help. Think about it, you don’t have to decide immediately… you can choose what you want, no problem if, later on, you decide to change… It is an opportunity we are giving you because we realized you are a good person and you need help, that’s all.” I thanked them both and decided that I would have accepted also the housework with the lady to avoid the cost of renting.
Raphal Olbinski, Manon Lescaut 2
Alfio was happy with my new accommodation, also because I really believe he could not have continued to sleep further on the sofa with his feet on the chair!
The accommodation was communicating with the laboratory which was accessed by a small door that gave onto a corridor also leading to the staff bathroom.
The interior was modest, it needed a good cleaning and whitewashing after which it would have been perfect for our needs. Elena told her husband to give me a small deposit so I bought what I needed and, equipped with a ladder, I got down to work to be able to settle there as soon as possible. Two girls from the workshop, kindly offered to help me after work and, three days later, everything had changed, we had even waxed those few, poor pieces of furniture that were part of the decor.
When Elena and Antonio came to see they were speechless: it looked like another house!
In the morning I got up at five, I left Silvia sleeping in the double bed and ran upstairs to where the owners lived. They had given me the key not to be woken up. I prepared the breakfasts and cleared up the kitchen then, at seven, when they got up, I cleaned the bedrooms and the bathrooms, everything before eight, when I started working in the workshop.
In the evening, after having dinner and putting Silvia to bed, I would up again and do what the lady ordered me: to iron or to wash or to mend while they watched television in the living room, then I went back downstairs and laid down next to Silvia paying attention not to wake her up.
The first few days it had been difficult to convince her to stay alone in the house: she was afraid of being alone, she wanted to come with me and I had been forced to pull her behind me. She, poor innocent, did everything she could to make herself useful: she folded the laundry, swept the floor, dusted, dried the pots …
… Then, little by little I had adopted another system: we had dinner early and quickly, I put her to bed and I laid down next to her to reassure her until, tired, she fell asleep and I ran upstairs.
``Alfio, my dear, it was a pain to see you sleeping on the sofa with your feet on the chair! How could I have further accepted that you had all that inconvenience because of me? I will always thank you for your generosity and for whatever you may need, ask me, because, honestly, I don't know how to repay you first of all for your hospitality and then for being so discreet and reserved...`` In fact, no one knew that for about ten days I had been a guest in his house because he, as a gentleman, had not said a word around in order to avoid trouble with the condominiums and also any gossip that could have harmed me.
Antonio and Elena had a beautiful house, not a luxurious house like the one I had gone to look for a job as a caregiver, but a very dignified house of simple self-made people.
Elena was kind and calm and felt almost embarrassed to give me commands, it was clearly perceived she was not the kind of person used to having servants. I later learned that she had been very ill and that this was the reason they had asked me to help around the house. For my part, I tried to do everything possible to satisfy them and, after I got to know of her precarious health, I even allowed myself to give her simple but useful advice that she liked and for which she thanked me. She often smiled at me and was very fond of Silvia who in turn adored her. She and Antonio had not had children. They often spoke of nephews but, during my stay, I never saw anyone visiting them.
On Sunday afternoon I usually went to Iole’s, stopped there for about one hour or two chatting, then returned to the laboratory house.
Raphal Olbinski, Exhibition of paintings
Sometimes I went to greet Alfio, that good man, who in the meantime had got engaged to a Romanian girl who was a caregiver. In truth, he did not seem so happy and I had the distinct impression that he had found himself involved in this “engagement” without being convinced at all. More than a few times he said to me “Eh! Firmì, if you had not gone away I would not be in this situation… “And I: “Alfio, my dear, it was a pain to see you sleeping on the sofa with your feet on the chair! How could I have further accepted that you had all that inconvenience because of me? I will always thank you for your generosity and for whatever you may need, ask me, because, honestly, I don’t know how to repay you first of all for your hospitality and then for being so discreet and reserved…” In fact, no one knew that for about ten days I had been a guest in his house because he, as a gentleman, had not said a word around in order to avoid trouble with the condominiums and also any gossip that could have harmed me.
One Sunday like all the others Iole asked me: “What are you going to do Firmì? Have you no idea about going back to the village? Do you ever think about your husband, about Stefania, everyone, everything? ” What to answer? “Of course I think about it, I think about it… I don’t know what to do. I’m not badly off here, I’m working and living, surely, I’m not leading a lady’s life. And I have never led a lady’s life as well, you know it… but at least I’m in peace! I have worked and have been beaten like a donkey. Even now I’m working like a beast but nobody gives me blows, I’m at peace, I told you: I’m working and living… I don’t know what I have to do… why are you asking me? Is there something?” “No, no, it was just a question, just to know…” Iole was embarrassed: I felt there was something she did not want to tell me. “If I were in your place, I would tell you everything! What has happened? I swear I will not tell anyone that I have spoken to you… ” Iole continued to deny, she remained firm in her assertions and I did not insist even though I sensed she was lying.
The following week I did not go to her house, I was tired, Silvietta had fallen asleep and Elena had come downstairs to chat with me and I did not want her to go away.
A few nights later, at the end of the day, one of the girls, leaving work, came back to tell me: “Firmì, there is someone who asked about you … We didn’t answer him… see you…”
I approached the exit trying to peek out without being seen: it was Alfio who was looking towards the shutter without daring to approach. It was raining heavily and he stood there with his umbrella like a statue. After all, who could it have been? Or someone from Iole’s family or Alfio! “What are you doing, Alfio?”
“Ah, nothing, I was just passing by…” “Well? Get inside, you are getting wet all over, look how it’s raining! ” “No, no! To do what?” “Come on! I’ll show you where I live… just to greet Silvia as well… ” “Just a moment to say hello to Silvietta, I don’t want to bother…” “Come on… to bother!…” He entered the laboratory. He looked around, said it was too dark and enclosed and that he, accustomed to the open air, would not have resisted in such a place. “If one has got an alternative, Alfio, if one has got an alternative, one can afford not to resist, otherwise one must fight and keep going. Instead, I tell you, I thank God for having come through here that afternoon… in the end, I didn’t know which way to turn me… where to go… with a little girl in tow…” “Forgive me, sorry, you’re right. I’m an idiot, sorry… again!” “But go, go! And now? What are all these excuses, all these salamelecs? By the way, how are you? How is your girlfriend?” “No girlfriend! Thanking God, not at all! She left… Let’s forget about her, Firmì… Better this way, the important thing is that everything is over… she has gone… thanking God… “
Raphal Olbinski, A labyrinth 2020
Later I learned that the young woman, installed in his house as his girlfriend, in reality had a flirt with another man, a Romanian boyfriend, who was her real one boyfriend, and that not only Alfio had wholly supported her, but that, before leaving, she had stolen all his money, even a gold chain with a crucifix, a gift from his parents on the occasion of his first Communion and a wrist watch given to him by his Godfather for his Confirmation. Actually small jewels of relative value but to which he was very attached. I showed Alfio the small apartment where I lived. Silvietta was happy to see him and, since it was evening, I invited him to have dinner with us. He thanked but refused saying it was not polite to show up this suddenly at dinner and that he would have come another evening, after having let me know in advance. Surely, he was afraid of embarrassing me in case there were not enough supplies in the house. He told me he was really happy to see us again, and above all, that I had a job and a roof over my head. Before leaving, he pulled a box of chocolates from under his jacket and gave it to Silvia. I invited him to lunch with us the following Sunday and he gladly accepted.
He arrived with a bottle of wine that he kept under his jacket and a doll for Silvia. I had put the curtains on the windows and, although they were of low quality, I had bought them for little money at a stall, they gave the small, cramped apartment a different air, cleaner, refined, a touch of femininity as Alfio said as soon as he noticed them getting into the house.
Thus it was that Alfio began to come to us for lunch every Sunday. Silvia was very fond of him and, I think he too loved that skinny girl who sat on his lap and threw her arms around his neck. I looked at that delicate picture with bitterness: her father had never taken in his arms our girls and they had never welcomed him with joy …
A couple of times we went out for a walk and another two or three times, when it rained, the three of us went to the cinema. I had also been to the cinema in my village, but rarely, three or four times in all, when my sisters returned home during the winter and we could not go for a walk because it was raining or too cold. I remembered those few times too well because that little pleasure was always followed by a scene peppered with sarcastic phrases… “The lady… goes to the cinema… the lady… of course… she doesn’t sweat the money… the lady… yeah, and the cuckold pays… ” Actually, my brothers-in-law always offered me the entrance, perhaps to repay some donuts I had made them to find at home for breakfast, obviously everything without the knowledge of my husband who was jealous even of them.
The next day he would have tried, in every way, to make me pay for that mortal sin: in the countryside from dawn to dusk, he always on the cart and I walking behind him, back and forth and then all the hardest jobs without ever speaking to me if not to command or to offend me and all the women of creation starting with Eve and ending with the Most Holy Madonna and so on… all whores.
Alfio, that good man had grown fond of us, indeed I had realized that little by little a different and deeper feeling had broken into his soul. He treated Silvia like a daughter and looked at me with loving eyes while I was busy in the kitchen or around the house. It was not something passionate: I sensed in him a feeling of tenderness, tranquility, satisfaction.
We almost looked like a family gathered for the Sunday lunch that then indulged in a little walk, an ice cream, a chat… all, or rather nothing, in peace.
For a few weeks I had not passed by Iole so I decided that I would have gone and see her. That Sunday immediately after having eaten something for lunch, I took Silvia and we went to her house. “Oh, how come, you never showed up recently? I thought wrong… but I see you are going well, you seem to blossom!” “It may be the work… imagine, blossomed! I’m working twelve hours a day! Are you all in good health?” “Yes, yes, my children are not here. It’s for almost a month they have already been away from home… Oh, in fact you haven’t been seen for quite a while…” “It’s true, you’re right but you can imagine… after a week of working from morning to night… Actually I always said: Next Sunday I’m going to see Iole but then when you get those attacks of laziness… or rather of tiredness…
“But for strolling with your lover you are not so tired… Ah Firmì whom do you think to be carrying around? I know everything… ” “What do you mean? What are you saying? I invited that wretched Alfio to lunch a few times to repay him for a big favor he did me. That’s all… in love… perhaps you may not have understood a thing: I do not fall in love, with anyone, ever… unfortunately… I think of everything except men… this is the only thing you can be calm about… you and everyone… you can also tell who informed you…” “But what do you think to do? When are you going to come back home? Aren’t you thinking of your husband, of Stefania?” “I don’t know, I don’t know either… if it weren’t for my daughters I would have gone to throw myself somewhere and for a long time… I don’t know, I don’t know… if it were up to me I would go to hell, so much the worse about how I lived I don’t think it is…” “Eh, my God… come on, everyone in the family have quarrels, do you believe my husband and I do not quarrel? Do you think I wouldn’t send him to hell every single day and at all times? If people did not bear, all the families would be broken.
You have to endure Firmì, you have to bear patience… even your husband I think, has regretted, now, do not kid, we can’t kill him… so who in the ass who in the chest we all have our defect… do you know the proverb?” “Because are you saying so? Is there something? Did you know something?” “No, no, it was just my advice, as a sister… you gave him a lesson… now, that’s enough, think about it!”
I found myself at home without even realizing I had made the return journey. I had a hunch. Silvietta was silent, I was not hungry, I prepared something for supper but she ate nothing so, after going up to Elena for a moment to see she did not need anything, we went to bed. Silvia hugged me, I felt her bony little body against mine in search of refuge and protection but I could only give her a little comfort. “Mom, do we have to go back?” “I don’t know. Sleep, I don’t know. Be quiet, don’t think about it and sleep.”
On Tuesday evening, at the end of our working hours, we started sweeping the laboratory. Scraps of sandpaper on the rough concrete floor and that fine, dark dust that infiltrated everywhere. The door was wide open to let some air passing and to avoid, but to no avail, breathing all that dirt. At a certain point I raised my head and saw him: he was there, standing in the middle of the door light, so well dressed that at first glance not even his mother would have recognized him. Silvia too had raised her head and had remained with the broom in her hand, as if dazed. “Well, what about greeting? Silvietta, don’t you come here to hug your father?” “What have you come to do? What do you want? Can’t you see we’re working?” “Working? It seems to me they are exploiting you very well…” A lot of nerve on his part… to talk about exploitation… “This doesn’t concern you, not you are the “exploited” one…” “Until proven otherwise, I am still your husband…”.
Raphal Olbinski, Matrimonio
Almost as if he had to defend me from any exploiters, he the paladin husband… He had that look of restrained anger, of badly repressed hatred that I knew too well. “They pay us separately for this job” “Come back home, Firmì, let’s get it over with! Come back home… it’s time, in fact it has passed…” “To take blows? Oh no, my dear! Time has passed… that indeed has passed… Time has passed, and… really everything has passed…” He was speechless, he did not expect my reaction, he stared at me as if dazed, there at the doorway without entering.
He had approached me and tried to take my hand. ``Do not make people laugh of us, please! Who knows how much they will have already said... Come back home, Stefania is not so well and your mother too...`` The people! The chatter! His world! Now his eyes were downcast, he no longer looked at me as if I belonged to him. He had almost whispered the last words, the only ones that had any meaning to me.
Antonio, who perhaps had heard our voices from his office, got into the laboratory to see what was happening and was looking at me questioningly. “It’s my husband…” “I came to bring her back home. Come on, take on Silvia and let’s go!” “Hey, hey, calm down! What’s going on, Firmina?” “He expects me to go with him…” “But do you want to go?” “I want to stay here!” “She is crazy! She has got a little daughter in the village and she’s here to be a whore… ” “Hey hey hey! let’s moderate the terms eh! Actually the lady is working, she earns her living honestly… she maintains herself and her child working twelve hours a day… poor woman… be ashamed… and leave immediately otherwise I’ll call the police!” Elena had also arrived: “What’s happening here? Is this the way to treat a woman? Where are you coming from? Go away… before we get anyone to intervene!” Elena’s calm but peremptory tone had a strange effect on him: he almost bowed to her, bending his back awkwardly. “Excuse me, madam, I was telling the gentleman that I am Firmina’s husband and I have come to take my wife back home because her youngest daughter, whom she abandoned at home, needs her mother.” “The “gentleman” is my husband and these are matters you have to deal with between yourselves, but I hope well for you in other terms and in other ways. Now, please, get out!” Elena approached him calmly and when she was in front of him she closed the door, leaving him outside.
Overwhelmed by agitation, I took the first chair I found and almost collapsed on it. Silvia, was huddling close to me.
“He has come here! The damned! He has come here!” Antonio and Elena looked at me, they had taken Silvia’s small hand. “Calm down Firmina, calm down… for the little girl’s sake! Calm down and let’s think.. let’s reason.” To reason! About what? With whom? My brain was like an erupting volcano, to calm down, it’s easier to be said than to be done!
After a while Elena, who had gone up to her apartment, came back with a cup of chamomile-tea and a tablet: “Drink and take this too, it will do you good… don’t be afraid… don’t be afraid… you’ll see, all things can be resolved… but now drink and keep calm! You’ll see, tomorrow everything will be different!” They accompanied me inside my house, Elena brought something to eat and they stayed with us until the medicine had its effect and I, that could hardly keep my eyes open, fell asleep.
At four in the morning I was already awake. I washed and dressed carefully, prepared breakfast for the little girl and waited for the time to go up to Elena’s. In the meantime, I went to the workshop to finish those cleaning that had been suspended the night before. And I thought, I thought, I thought and I did not get through any conclusion.
Antonio and Elena were already up when I went upstairs. They had already breakfasted so I tidied up the house while I felt their gazes following me. I felt their embarrassment, I sensed they wanted to tell me something even they did not know. To break the silence, they asked me about my child, if she had rested, if she was still asleep… I finished my work in the house, then went downstairs. Silvia had got up, washed, dressed, had breakfast and had even, in her own way, made the bed. Poor, dear Silvietta! I took her by the hand and we headed to the workshop for our day as workers.
At five o’clock all the girls got up and went out, they looked like a blast of autumn leaves dragged by the wind. From the door left open I saw him: he was on the road, outside the gate, and was looking inside. I commanded Silvia to start sweeping and not to follow me. I went out. He had on another pair of trousers, another shirt and another pullover: unrecognizable! He met me at the gate, smiling slightly… “Hi Firmina, sorry about last night, I was so upset…” Excuse me? What was going on? Never, and I mean never I had heard a word of apology from that mouth! Sorry? I repeated it mentally: sorry. sorry… “What does that mean? What do you want? I told you I don’t want to go back! Too late, I’m sorry… an apology is no longer needed, too late, I’m sorry…” He looked a bit dazed, he certainly did not expect my reaction, he believed that, as always, I would have bowed my head. “Firmì, that’s enough! I know I was wrong and I’m sorry again, but let’s get it over with. Let’s go home and pretend that nothing has happened…” He had approached me and tried to take my hand. “Do not make people laugh of us, please! Who knows how much they will have already said… Come back home, Stefania is not so well and your mother too…” The people! The chatter! His world! Now his eyes were downcast, he no longer looked at me as if I belonged to him. He had almost whispered the last words, the only ones that had any meaning to me.
I had thought of returning to take Stefania, my little Stefania whose custody I had granted to my mother. “What’s wrong with Stefania?” My heart was beating madly. I repeated the question: “What’s wrong with Stefania?” “She had a severe stomach ache, we thought it was nothing but she kept complaining so one evening we took her to the hospital. They have urgently operated on her for appendicitis but she is not well, she has lost a lot of weight, she was already so thin, but now… the doctors say it may be something depending on stress… in short, I don’t think they have understand anything… I think it would be better if you came back… ” “And why didn’t you warn me? Why? You knew I was here in Milan… if you came up, it is because you knew it.” “It all happened suddenly: first your mother that I haven’t understood what she has, but that says to be ill, then Stefania…” My heart was in turmoil. He spoke in a low voice, eyes downcast, his arms also down. “Please don’t do comedies, come back home, then, regarding the matter between us we’ll settle it… we will see…”
It was as if a road-roller had passed on me, my legs felt soft, my head empty, when I opened my mouth it seemed to me it was another person talking. “Couldn’t you have said that last night? I take up our four rags and Silvia… and that’s it…” I was not expecting any response or any comment and in fact he did not answer and did not comment. “Remember I am no longer the same, I don’t return for you, I wouldn’t return with you for anything in the world, I return only for my daughter… and for mom…” He was still looking down when he said to me, “You’re right. We leave tomorrow morning, I’m at Iole’s, see you there”.
Raphal Olbinski, Sospeso Promises
I went back inside, took Silvia by the hand and together we entered the office where Elena and Antonio were arranging the day’s accounts. In a few concise words I explained to them why I would be returning home from the next day. They got up and hugged me. Antonio paid me the salary and asked me if I needed some money. I thanked him but politely refused his generous offer.
Antonio slipped something into my hand. “Please, don’t refuse! A little present for your girl, please, accept it… you are a good person…” I, as if dazed, I made my way toward the door; all of us had tears in our eyes. They told me that however it had gone, the day I needed help, I knew to whom I could turn to. I thanked again and blessed them.
The day after, early in the morning, I took Silvia and our humble suitcase and, after saying goodbye to my employers again, I went to Iole’s.
He was already ready. Iole and her husband were standing in the kitchen. They offered us breakfast. Silvia ate a little milk with two biscuits, my stomach was closed and I refused to eat.
Iole took me by the arm and led me to her room. At all costs she wanted me to accept fifty thousand liras. I tried in every way to put them back in her pocket: poor people, it’s not that they were doing well either. “Please say hello to Alfio, tell him why I had to leave in such a hurry without saying goodbye, tell him he has been a great friend and above all thank him for me… and for Silvia. Help him if he needs, he’s a good person… Please, every now and then, go to see Antonio and Elena, they really deserve it…” “Yes, yes, don’t worry, I’ll mind of everything. Take care and think of your daughters. Let us know… about Stefania, about you, and about mom… just a few days to get organized… and we too will come to the village… mom is old… “
So it was that I returned to the country. The return journey was silent. Silvia, sitting astride my knees, her face turned towards my chest, she did not open her mouth and she never turned her face to his father’s side. I felt her getting stiff in my arms, she did not sleep and did not want to eat anything when I offered her one of the sandwiches Iole had hastily stuffed into my travel bag. I felt her sad, angry, betrayed: I had told her we would have not returned, we would have remained in Milan.
I was like a stormy sea. I was sitting next to a man I no longer loved, worse, whom I no longer esteemed. I was walking home with him, to his house. I knew that I would have regretted it bitterly and there was nothing I could do about it: Stefania and my mother, what could I do?
He was strangely talkative, I would say almost cheerful. Every now and then he tried to talk to the little girl who did not even turn around, then he would turn to me who answered in monosyllables. The other occupants of the compartment watched us in silence.
After the train journey, on the way home, he said to me: “I told everyone you went to your sister because she was unwell. That you brought the little girl to keep you company. That I myself told you to go. To avoid the chatter… ” I didn’t say a word.
Thus I resumed my life. Stefania slowly recovered. My mother died a short time later. Iole, who had come with her husband to visit her, stayed until her funeral. She looked at me silently while I was hanging around the house without having the courage to ask me if I was well, she already knew the answer.
He, my husband, at first seemed almost intimidated by me. He was clumsily trying to be nice but he couldn’t. He scrutinized me and kept an eye on me at the same time. I realized he was in control of everything. He no longer left alone for the countryside, I had to go with him. He never left the house, nor went to the square or to the bar, he was always present, always attentive to everything I did. He never left his wallet, not even his loose change. He surely had wondered where I had gotten the money to leave, he asked me a couple of times, I replied my mother had given it to me, she was dead and could not contradict me, of course. I realized he was not satisfied with the answer, certainly when I left he had asked my mother for an explanation and she had not known what to answer him.
Before returning to Milan, Iole told me: “By the way, Alfio begged me to give you his greetings, I almost forgot.” She had not forgotten, she had not told me on purpose. She had remembered to bring me the greetings from Antonio and Elena, as soon as she arrived. She knew that Alfio loved me, that he would gladly keep me with him and she was afraid even to mention him for fear I might leave home again.
Time passed. The girls were now grown up. One morning, I noticed that my husband, who had come to the kitchen to have his breakfast, was muttering words I did not understand, he did not speak, he mumbled. I turned to look at him and immediately realized something was wrong: his mouth was crooked and he had one eye half closed. He tried to get up from his chair but he fell, one leg and one arm were lifeless.
A semi-paresis. Thus began an ordeal between hospitals and nursing houses, between hospitalizations and periods at home. He tried to speak but we could not understand him and he, helpless, turned red with anger. With his dexterous arm, he raised his crutch as soon as I approached.
I felt him angry and resentful towards me, as if he was blaming on me for his illness. On the one hand I was compassionate, on the other I could no longer bear this man who, despite his absolute need to be assisted and cared for, never had an affectionate gesture, a word of gratitude for what was done to him every day, not at all.
Now I answered him when he offended me and addressed me calling me “whore”, the only word we could understand. He glared at me in his helplessness and I, at times, even raised my voice but he, despite his infirmity, raised his crutch as soon as I approached. My children, now young girls, just avoided him.
They helped me in everything, even to wash him and feed him, but I realized that they could not love him and, as soon as they could, they went away to another room. I was worried in the future they might regret not having loved him. I tried to make them understand that he was their father, that he was ill, that his wickedness was the fault of his disease, that they had to be patient but unfortunately they knew him, they had known him all too well before his illness.
It was a hard time for everyone. I got up very early in the morning to go to the countryside, on foot, then I came back home dead tired and started looking after him first, then after the house… then after everything else.
About three years later, he died. One evening, while he, railing against me, with his crutch raised, was trying to hit me, his heart suddenly stopped.
As I had foreseen, the girls, in spite of everything, wept bitterly for this father whom they had never loved and that had never loved them. Not I. I could not do it, on the contrary, I cried, I cried too, but not because of his death. I cried for myself, for all that could have been and had not been. I cried for the humiliations, the privations, the blows and the shed tears. I cried alone in the night while I watched him dead, in the end I also cried for him thinking about what he had lost by denying me love. Then I thought: It’s enough. The whole town murmured behind me after that funeral: “His wife, not even a tear!” I continued to live indifferent to what surrounded me, I had my daughters, my home… so much to do and to think that everything slipped on me. At least I was serene, now at home we talked, laughed, lived. My sister Fiorella had given us a black and white television that she would have thrown away since she had bought a new one in color. We did not have much but we were quiet. Now, albeit a little, I could count on my money: the reversibility of his pension was enough for us to get by with dignity.
With great effort, a lot of good will, but above all with the help of my girls, I learned to read and write. Now I know who Firmina is, the protagonist of the novel by Gabriel Garcia Marquez! As a widow, I managed to get a job as a janitor at the State School and then everything went better. Men? Of course, after I became a widow, someone came forward. Sometimes timid approaches, other times, explicit proposals for sexual relations made by people with whom I had never even exchanged a word and who, without the presence of a husband, felt almost authorized to harass me. For my part, I was so disenchanted… I categorically rejected even the polite and, I believe sincere offers, of some men who proposed themselves worthily and with whom, perhaps, I could finally live a life worthy of the name. Someone, certainly more arrogant and rude, knowing my previous situation well, told me clearly that he “would never have raised his hands… “that with him “I would have been a lady, I would have been the owner of everything…” that “he had this and that…”. I listened detached: no words, no promises would have scratched the stone wall behind which I had barricaded myself after being torn to shreds by the storms of life, I remained silent and cold, indifferent. I kept repeating to myself: “Firmina, freedom is priceless… it is priceless…” I tried to be kind in refusal, kind but distant, unattainable. I thanked the offers but asked to be left in peace, my tones were courteous but firm, they did not admit a reply and even the most daring ones were disarmed by such a firmness. I did not remarry, maybe I was wrong… maybe I could have met a good person… maybe I could have rebuilt a life…? There are good people in the world… Alfio, Antonio… and who knows how many others. However, I chose to be free, I got the freedom to live my life without having to account for it to anyone.
Raphal Olbinski, Promise and Adventure
Time has passed since then. My two daughters graduated, they both got good positions. Stefania is a lawyer, she is married and they have two children, Silvia no, she prefers “to be independent”, when she told me it, I could not object to her choice. Who knows if time will not help her too, if not to recover, at least to heal the wounds of her soul stunned by experiences that it was not right for a child to have, with all the future ahead of her. I went back to Milan, just with Silvia. We went to a hotel, we stayed ten days there. We visited the city and saw again the places where we had been. Antonio and Elena’s factory was gone. Someone told us Antonio had died shortly after and Elena, sick, left alone, had gone to an old people’s home. We wanted to visit her but no one was able to give us precise information about her and the place she was staying in. Who knows if she was still alive. We did not find Alfio. In the building where he worked as a doorman, a kind gentleman told us that he had suffered so much because of the departure of a person very dear to him, that, later, he had got married, that he had subsequently separated and that, as soon as he had retired, he had returned to his country of origin. He could not tell us more. One day, again with Silvia, we decided to go to Magliano Sabina hoping to meet him. When we reached the small square, we went into a bar and asked the manager if he knew him. He told us that Alfio always went out in the afternoon, around five o’clock, and that he frequented his own bar, so that was how I saw him again after a long time. He hadn’t changed that much, of course he had aged but his gaze was the same: he still kept those good and calm eyes of that time. He did not immediately recognize us: I must say that Silvia was now a woman and I had changed a lot since then. I was no longer the frightened, frightening thin, poorly dressed girl she had known. He hugged us crying. I could see a regret in his eyes. The three of us spent the afternoon sitting at that bar table remembering that brief period and we left with the promise we would not have lost sight of each other. After a short time, a street vendor from his village told me he was dead. Now I live in Milan. Silvia got the professorship in a Scientific High School, she got married to a Lombard publisher and they have got three beautiful children. I asked for and obtained the transfer, I live in an apartment, small, but more than decent, on the lower floor of theirs. I love to read, I literally devour the books I regularly take from the Municipal Library or I buy. I go to the cinema, to the theater and to the concerts. When I can, I travel, I love to travel, it makes me feel free, it makes me think back to that day, to that train, to that first painful, intoxicating scent of freedom.
Keep reading
