‘Damn if I didn’t try! But you know what his reaction was? Didn’t he tell you? He replied abruptly with a few harsh words: “You will not stand in my way. You’re just an old Fascist has-been.” That’s exactly what he said. Just between us, Mama, I had to laugh. You like Carluzzu, don’t you?’
‘I’ve never liked anyone more.’
‘Then you have to give me some credit, because he’s my son after all, isn’t he? What resolve that boy has! And what integrity! Take military service … With a little money, I could have had him declared unfit and instead … Well, he’s leaving! In a few months he’s leaving and there’s nothing I can do about it. But why?’
‘He’s right. He says that having been raised in a privileged setting, the military will help him understand his country.’
‘Yes, yes, he says things like that but … when he comes back he has to join the practice with me! Otherwise who will I leave it to?’
‘Get it out of your head, Prando. Try to understand once and for all…’
‘You always side together, dont you! I knew it, and to tell you the truth, this is the only thing that has consoled me during these years and allowed me to keep tabs on you. Through him I kept up with you. Your affection for each other gratified me — who knows why? We really are a mystery to ourselves when it comes to matters of love and affection … Who said that, you or him?’
‘I did, a few minutes ago.’
‘Oh, right. I’m not a good listener, I know. Even Bambuccia is always telling me that. But he knows how to listen, right?’
‘Of course, and you should hear him tell stories!’
‘Enough, or I’ll get jealous! Instead tell me, you old sorceress, what do you think of Ignazio?’
‘He’s your spitting image and you know it. Why even ask?’
‘Yes … my spitting image.’
‘Why are you frowning like that? Why do you avoid him? Bambù told me.’
‘What can I say to someone who is just like me? I’ve been fed up with myself for years! Oh, Mody, listen…’
‘Why are you calling me Mody now?’
‘I want to explain why I really came back to you. I didn’t come back to my mother, but to my best friend. Because you’ve been a friend to me, Mody, I have to tell you. I need an ally now who knows about my heart condition — a complete secret is heavy to bear and you, I know, will not annoy me by whining and offering advice as Amalia, Bambù or even Mattia would.’
‘You know you can count on me.’
‘I know. But you must swear to me on Carluzzu that no one will ever know anything.’
‘I swear.’
‘Come here; look me in the eye. You’re tough, old lady! How is it possible that I don’t see any dismay, not a tear in your eyes?’
‘You’d like me to cry now? To be worried about you?’
‘No. My esteem for you would lessen. But will you be able to keep it up tomorrow or a month from now as well?’
‘Try me.’
‘Look at that! Now she’s challenging me! And to this challenge, my dear Mody, I add another. Listen, I’ve had an idea: Once the mourning for Pietro is over, would you be willing to arrange a party for me and my heart? A party for us two and our secret? I want a very grand party. The whole island must feel the joy. You must prepare it with your own hands, and I’ll see if these beautiful little hands I’m kissing tremble. Can you do it? If you’re up to such a contest — and whoever heard of such a thing, celebrating your own son’s engagement to this slut of an illness clinging to his heart? — if you can do it, Prando will reward you by wanting to live, you can be sure of it. The excitement he feels for this wager is already causing life to flow back into his veins. But watch out, old woman, it won’t be easy. I’ll follow you step by step, watch your every gesture, your every expression. And if you so much as quaver or grow sad, you’ll lose.’
94
The grove of orange and lemon trees lit by thousands of little light bulbs — back then we couldn’t have done it with candles, could we, Beatrice? — slowly fades in the glow of dawn. Yet couples holding one another tightly continue circling in the marble dance area where the two staircases meet. Prando slowly climbs Carmelo’s broad steps, looking for his mother. All night he’s watched me; soon we’ll know who won the contest. I did not tremble as I feared I would, and now I know the reason for this serenity of mine in the face of Pietro’s death and Prando’s illness. It’s not indifference, a blunting of the senses due to age, as I had suspected. It’s the complete mastery of emotion and a supreme awareness of each precious moment that life rewards you with if you have courage and a steady hand … Carmine slowly climbs the stairs of Carmelo. Now I know, old man, the deep sense of freedom and joy you felt before dying, and I no longer envy you. I’ve acquired your skill, and from now on there will only be joy for me. I see it in my future and in your eyes, Prando.
‘What do you see in my eyes, old woman?’
‘I see that you won’t die before my eyes are closed.’
‘And how long do you think you’ll live?’
‘Who knows? A long time, I hope.’
‘So my life depends on yours?’
‘If you want it to. If you don’t, kill yourself! But do it sooner, with a revolver. Waiting for death whining and snivelling is for the mediocre, and you’ve been a lot of things, but never a coward.’
‘You won the wager and Prando will repay you by wanting to live. What else can he do? What fun is it to die if you know that the one who gave birth to you won’t even shed a tear?’
* * *
’Ntoni: ‘What a fantastic idea to light up the garden bright as day, and inside, where most of the party took place, keep the parlours dim. All night I went around as though I were in a dream. A dream is what it is! Congratulations, Mody. This party is a dream!’
Bambù: ‘Carluzzu, hug me. I feel so deserted!’
’Ntoni: ‘You always feel deserted whenever a party is over, or a performance ends. Something is gone, leaving many small deaths inside … cold, rosy little pearls like the ones you’re wearing around your neck, Bambù.’
Carlo: ‘Always up to date, our ’Ntoni! You can sense it, can you, you old wolf, that they’re reassessing D’Annunzio?’120
Bambù: ‘No, Carluzzu, let ’Ntoni speak. I like it. Maybe he’s the only one who hasn’t changed.’
’Ntoni: ‘And how was I before, Bambuccia?’
Bambù: ‘The most amusing and original.’
’Ntoni: ‘And do you know why I haven’t changed?’
Bambù: ‘No.’
’Ntoni: ‘Because I haven’t married … What is it? Why are you crying, Bambù? My comment was meant to be funny.’
Bambù: ‘I want to see Jacopo! He never sends us news except once in a blue moon.’
Jose sends word of himself more and more rarely … He’s fighting far away and Jacopo follows him … For a moment, Modesta fears she will never see him again and clasps Prando’s head tightly to her breast.
Prando: ‘What is it, old woman?’
Modesta: ‘I’m afraid, Prando.’
Prando: ‘For me?’
Modesta: ‘No, for Jacopo. Always alone, fighting!’
Prando: ‘I actually envy him! It’s fate’s good fortune to have a head that allows you to fight with your mind. I could only fight with my arms, but the time for that is past. Maybe that’s why my body has come to weigh on me.’
Bambù: ‘Your body has come to weigh on you because you eat and drink too much.’
Prando: ‘That’s also true.’
Bambù: ‘Even now, instead of lying there on Modesta’s lap, why don’t you see to Ignazio? He’s fallen asleep on the rug. Go and put him to bed. He’s your son, isn’t he?’