He shook his head.
“No, he wouldn’t, would he? He’s not as wise as you.”
“But he didn’t see him.”
“Him?”
“The monk. The one who talked to Gemma and Bella, the one I told you about. I don’t like him.”
“Let’s sit down over there.” Her heart raced as she walked with the children, taking each one by the hand over to the sofa on the far side of the room. Its cushions were deep, and a brisk fire crackled in the hearth. “Now, tell me, about this monk. Where did you see him?”
“In the piazza. He wore a brown coat and he smelled.” She held her nose with thumb and forefinger and made a face.
Totò laughed.
“Gusti hates the monk. Carmela, too. Once I heard them arguing with Nelli and Gemma. He talked to Bella, too, I saw them together near the Duomo.”
“Yes, you told me that on the train. I remember.”
“Bella told me he was a special monk, but I didn’t believe her. He smells like a shepherd. One night I heard Bella tell Gusti that the monk, he has marvels. I heard them shouting about him. Bella wanted Gusti to go with her to get the marvels, but Gusti wouldn’t go. She just laughed. She said he was a snake and not a monk and no one can do marvels anymore. Not since the olden days. Now they’re all tricksters. But Bella said she was going to meet him anyway. I saw her going out.”
“What did Bella say about him when she returned?”
“Bella died.”
“I’m thirsty, can I have something to drink?” Totò asked.
“That’s a marvelous idea. Tessa, what about you, would you like something?” Serafina straightened the ribbon on the top of Tessa’s head.
Tessa folded her hands, wiggling one row of fingers, then switching movement to the fingers on the other side. She looked at Totò. He watched her fingers, looked into her eyes, laughed. The ghost of a smile crossed the girl’s lips.
“It’s a snake,” Totò said.
“It’s not a snake. It’s a spider.”
“No. It’s a snake, like in your story about the smelly monk,” Totò said.
Serafina’s head spun. “How about some hot cocoa?”
“Good!”
“And you, Tessa?”
She shrugged, nodded.
“Renata,” she called, “make us some nice hot milk, the kind that makes mustaches. And a few cookies, too.”
“But dinner will be ready in a few-”
Serafina put a finger to her lips.
“Cookies, too,” Totò said. “Lots. I’m hungry.”
“Me too,” Tessa said and followed.
Renata rolled her eyes. She said something about spoiling.
• • •
Swinging her legs below the chair, Tessa hunched over the table and blew on the hot liquid. Serafina stood over her, ready to sprinkle more sugar and chocolate flecks into the froth. Totò blew on his foam. It spilled onto the table cloth. Giggles from both children.
“You are five now, or six?” Serafina asked.
Without looking up, Tessa took another sip of milk and spread the fingers and thumb of one hand in the air. Renata brought a plate of cookies, set it on the table in front of Totò.
Totò took a handful, shoved them into his face and gulped his drink. He looked over at Tessa. They laughed. Crumbs flew out of his mouth. Tessa reached out tentatively and took a cookie.
“Soon you’ll go to school.” Serafina smoothed the child’s collar.
Tessa shrugged. She set the cup down, wiped her mouth with the back of one hand.
Renata sprinkled more chocolate flakes and powdered sugar into each cup.
“More story,” Totò said, cookie crumbs now sticking to the drying foam around his mouth.
Tessa skated her eyes around the room and took another sip. “I saw him today near the birds.”
Serafina bit her lip.
Pointing to Assunta, she said, “She brought bread for us and gave it to Totò, and, when Totò went up to the water and bent down to feed the birds, I was alone. The birds flew away when Totò tried to feed them.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Not. When I tried to feed them, they stayed, but when you ran over to me, you scared the birds and they flew away. I whispered, shhh, stay there, but you ran to me, anyway.”
“Because of the monk, that’s why. He came too close. His hand, it reached for me.” She hung her head.
“Big wings, Mama. Big wings those birds have.” Totò made flapping wings with his arms.
Tessa laughed at him and licked her milk mustache.
Serafina’s breath was shallow. She knew she must calm down.
Totò said, “Tessa has to play with me now. I want to show her how to feed Octavia.”
“Who’s she?”
“Our goat, silly.”
Tessa laughed.
“Be careful,” Serafina said to their disappearing backs. “I don’t want Octavia to get sick like the last time, Totò.”
Cinque Minuti
A soft knock. The door opened a crack, and Carlo’s foot wedged itself into the space between floor and jamb. “Should we go away?” he asked.
“Of course not. Come in. Sit down on the chaise, both of you.” Serafina wore her good watered silk, the dress Giulia made for her last month. She kissed them, went back to her dressing table where she sat and struggled with her hair. “Can never get it right, but Assunta is needed downstairs.”
“Let Assunta help with the hair.” Renata pulled the cord. “We’ve got to leave soon. Vicenzu and Giulia can watch the children while you finish. And Arcangelo stays here with Beppe, too. All fine.”
Serafina told them about Tessa and the monk in the public gardens this morning. “We must keep a close watch.” Adjusting the lace around her collar, she said, “Tell me about Carmela, now-I’m anxious to hear.” She pinned on Maddalena’s brooch.
“This is a week for crying,” Carlo said. “First Carmela for her father and grandmother, next, Rosa for Gusti, and then Carmela for Gusti and for…many things.” He sat on the edge of the chaise, looking at Renata.
“Carmela cries for many things?” She turned to them. “So much emotion in one so young. Of course, it is because she is with child. And because she does not know her own mind. Oh, Carmela, my poor lost Carmela.” Serafina rose, plowed around the room, whirling. She sat back down at her dressing table. She willed the tears to disappear.
Carlo said, “She asked about you.”
“The plain truth, no sugar. Last week she would not speak or look at me.”
“Too complex for my understanding. When I told her I had harsh news, she said ‘Oh, no, not Mama!’ The first words out of her mouth. I swear to you. I was amazed.”
Serafina twisted her hands. “And how is she, Carlo? Inside, I mean. Her heart?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know what to say.”
“Would you say Carmela’s confused, angry, hurt, frightened?” Renata asked.
Carlo said, “All of that. Plus, she’s, well, slow, wobbly.”
“Wobbly?” Renata and Serafina asked in unison.
“You mean weepy?” Renata asked.
He nodded. “Must be miserable in that dump.”
“We begged her to come home. Twice. Does that mean she wants to come home now?”
Carlo shrugged. “Like Renata said, she’s confused. Doesn’t know what she wants. After all, her man left her to fight with Garibaldi.”
“Left her with child, you mean. You call that a man?” Serafina began taking the pins out of her hair and throwing them on the table, brushing her curls. Tears rolled down the cheeks. The faster she brushed, the harder she cried. She ripped out some of her scalp along with springy bits of frizz. Finally she threw the brush on the floor, buried her head, and sobbed.
She felt her children’s confusion as brother and sister stood by. From somewhere in her mind, she remembered Giorgio on a similar occasion, twisting his fingers in the air and taking out his watch. ‘We must give La Donna Cinque Minuti.’ Giorgio, always the jester.