‘I don’t think so. Let me think: it must be the day after tomorrow. Be good now, sleep! Tomorrow I’ll find out…’
‘But can’t we make an exception? I want so much to kiss your breasts.’
‘I told you, no! Now sleep, don’t make me mad!’
Nina is terrifying when she gets mad, and whether it’s fear or the warmth of her arms holding me tight, I slip into a sweet, peaceful sleep.
82
Nina saves up her sugar and mine: ‘You can drink the so-called coffee without sugar — or even pour it into the bucket; it’s nothing but dishwater, whereas this precious white powder, mixed with an egg, increases its nutritional value a hundred per cent.’ Day by day the paper packet grows and ends up between Nina’s bra and her breasts. Only she has the discipline not to open it, not even during the longest hours of hunger, from noon till seven.
‘So much sugar, Nina! You’re really strong willed. I wouldn’t be able to resist.’
Nina smiles, and my admiration makes her more beautiful. Hour by hour, the ugly mask of scars, now healed, fades away, partly because of my caresses and my breath.
‘Oh, yes, Mody, keep doing that. It relieves me. If you only knew how these scabs itch! Just like when I had the chickenpox, and my mother tied my hands to the bed. It was torture! Don’t stop! Now that I’ve met you, I don’t want my face to be scarred. Before, when I thought you were an informer, all I did was scratch myself. If only there was a mirror! You say most of the scabs have disappeared without leaving a mark? Oh, Mody, is it true, or are you just saying that to make me feel better?’
‘I’m your mirror; you can trust me. I’m the only mirror that doesn’t lie. Your skin is becoming flawless again, and if it weren’t for the dark circles under your eyes … Your colouring has an amber tone like when you come back from a walk on the first sunny day after winter — it seems impossible here inside these walls.’
‘I’m not just saying this, but Nina has always been admired for her complexion. As for the dark circles, yours are no joke either, nennella! We wore ourselves out last night.’
‘You said we could.’
‘And it’s not a criticism. It’s nice to think back, knowing that in a few seconds Nina can make things better … Hold on a minute. Hey, I don’t want to brag, but no one can whip up a zabaglione or a mayonnaise like me. You like mayonnaise, huh? I dream about it! Not to brag, but none of the women in my family or in the neighbourhood could make two eggs yield so much. Look, they seem like ten! Now, there’s a good girl, suck it slowly, it’s more nourishing that way.’
We look into each other’s eyes as the thick liquid stolen from the sun goes down, warming the tongue, the palate.
‘The last spoonful for Mody because she’s more piccina. Little minx! Come on, mmm … all done!’
‘That was so good! I feel all warm inside. Will you let me kiss the hiding place where you keep the sugar?’
‘No!’
‘At least let me touch it.’
‘Okay, touch, but then it’s time to walk. Come on, get a move on, Mody. Apart from everything else, at this hour that bitch Sister Giuliana could arrive. Come on, we have to go from one wall to the other at least ten times…’
‘It’s boring!’
‘I know! Close your eyes part way, and imagine that Nina is taking you for a stroll through the woods.’
‘No, not the woods!’
‘Listen to her! And where would you like to walk? You just have to ask: there’s something for everyone.’
‘The beach, Nina. I haven’t seen the sea in so long! Take me to the seashore this time. Let’s walk along the never-ending strip of sand…’
‘About-face! Oh, no, you can’t lean on me like that! Come on, turn around and let’s start over … You like the sea, eh?’
‘Oh, yes … that isn’t the wall … that’s where the reef begins. Can you make it?’
‘Let’s try.’
‘If you can do it, Nina, maybe we’ll make it there…’
‘Make it where, micia?’
‘To see the sunset.’
‘Of course, pussycat, whatever you like. Come on, just a little farther and we’re done for today.’
‘A little farther, yes. Look out there, do you see the little island, the Prophet?’
‘It looks like clouds to me.’
‘Because you can’t see it.’
‘Actually, I can’t see far away.’
‘Then trust me, and we’ll get there quickly. If we’re lucky, we’ll see the sun bend down to kiss the Prophet’s brow.’
‘No!’
‘Then in an instant, the sun drags the head down with it into darkness … Why are you stopping, Nina? There’s time before the soup. The sunset is far off. Let’s keep walking a little more.’
‘Too hot for me, too much light!’
‘Let’s at least go as far as the top of the rise. There are trees and shade up there.’
‘All I see are white rocks and yellow rocks, then more white and yellow. God, what misery!’
‘The yellow isn’t rocks, it’s yellow blossoms, broom. You’re really myopic, Nina!’
‘That’s right, keep it up! I’ve told you a hundred times I’m nearsighted.’
‘Then trust me and keep walking. There are trees and shade up there.’
Nina lies down in the shade and closes her eyes. Now I know I can lie down beside her and lay my head on her breast. Her ample bosom doesn’t feel my weight and I can travel, as I did then, from her belly to her neck without disturbing that deep, regular breathing. How can Carmine go on sleeping while I move up and down his body?
‘You’re light as a feather, figghia! Besides, how can a big animal like me feel the weight of a little micia, a pussycat?’
‘You’re not an animal, you’re a beautiful column! Once I saw them on the other side of the island. They’re scattered in the fields, sleeping in the sun.’
It’s not Carmine who is caressing his pussycat with a parched marble hand. He used to call me gattina, kitten, or micia, pussycat, like the voice that keeps saying: ‘What is my minx of a pussycat doing, sleeping? Or is she getting ready to play a naughty trick on me?’
‘And you, what are you doing with your eyes closed?’
‘I’m trying to get over this fatigue that’s come over me. Clearly, though I yearned to see the sky, I don’t appreciate it now that I see it. I don’t feel it. What can I say? I can’t enjoy it. Well, four years in a cell are four years! I’m not used to the fresh air, and my eyes hurt. If I hadn’t met you, I might have rotted away in that jail awaiting trial. Shit, I had given up hope of any kind of sentence. It seems like a joke! Hoping for a trial as if it were a prize! Then you come and everything is resolved: relocation, books for you, ink, paper…’
‘And for you, yarn and a crochet hook.’
‘… A trial in a jiffy. It was all so quick, like in the movies, that I still feel confused. Oh, Mody, keep an eye on the time! At sunset we have to go back in. I have no intention of losing this paradise for a walk.’
‘It’s allowed, Nina. Don’t get excited. You were so strong in prison!’
‘True, I have to get used to it…’
‘And find something to do.’
‘That’s also true. You write, teach, but what do you write?’
‘Twaddle, Nina, to pass the time.’
‘And you earn money too! Didn’t you give a lesson today?’
‘No, I want to be free at least one day a week.’
‘Impudent minx! On an island the breadth of a hand, she wants to be free! Hey, I like it, because when I’m alone I don’t know what to do with myself.’