I was bewildered by the unfamiliar quality that shone through every word Sister Costanza spoke and by the gentleness her voice now held. I decided to look at her, and I nearly fainted for real. She was almost beautiful. It was as if something had straightened her up, and her lips were smiling as her eyes wandered vaguely around the room. She was dreaming about Mother Leonora’s chapel stall; it was the rigid back of that oak seat that had straightened her. I almost regretted being the one who had brought about that happiness of hers. But there was no time for regret. I had to pack quickly.
Troubled by that unfamiliar presence, I began gathering my things … ‘Don’t forget the bands, continue binding your chest … dangers … where you are going…’ That where you are going made my hands shaky and I kept dropping things. I couldn’t find anything. The binding strips slipped out of my fingers and rolled into the corners, between the feet of the bed, and I had to start all over again. The suitcase was too small; it wouldn’t close. Sweating, I finally managed to close it by kneeling heavily on the lid. And whether it was the exertion or Sister Costanza’s radiant face that made me really angry, I sat on the suitcase and started to cry, appealing to Mother Leonora to at least tell me where she was sending me. Did she mean to take revenge?
19
She had undoubtedly chosen some horrible place where I would necessarily find my vocation. Sister Costanza had been very certain when she said: ‘I know that we shall meet again.’ With my fists clenched to my temples, which were bursting from that I know that we shall meet again, I didn’t hear the door open.
‘What’s the matter? Are you crying, princess? You loved her so much, did you? Well, I did too. I don’t cry, because it’s not something men do, but inside, well…! She was a great lady! But come now, come along. It’s best for you to go. Dark times are ahead for this convent. Just now, a sealed letter from Palermo arrived. Sister Costanza is replacing Mother Leonora! Dark times! Come, get up, let me take your suitcase. I’ll carry it for you. Sister Costanza sent me to you because they mustn’t watch you leave … What’s wrong? Are you trembling? Don’t be upset! Weep for her, of course, because it’s fitting that the dead be remembered with tears; she loved you like a daughter. But now come, come with me. You’ll see that even though she’s dead, she hasn’t abandoned you.’
I clung to Mimmo’s arm — before I would never have been able to do that. I no longer felt like one of them. What could they do to me now, even if they were watching me from the half-closed shutters of all those windows in the courtyard? — I gripped his arm tightly, when my eyes fell upon something so grand it made my legs shakier than my earlier fear had: a carriage without horses. Or were the horses under that long tube that gleamed in the sun? Surely the horses must be in there, looking out from those big glass eyes framed in gold.
‘It’s not a carriage, princess, it’s a modern-day deviltry that runs as if there were ten horses pulling it … I’m old-fashioned and I don’t care for all these new contraptions. I’m wary of them. I saw one down in the village, and it seemed like a freak of nature to me, a giant cockroach. What do I know! But I swear to God, this one takes your breath away, it’s so beautiful. It looks like a cathedral!’
Assisted by Mimmo and a tall gentleman — surely an officer — wearing a dark uniform and a shirt so white that the sisters’ wimples seemed grey by comparison, I climbed into that cathedral, though I did not let go of Mimmo’s hand.
‘There you are, sit right here, signorina. If you feel sick or something makes you uncomfortable during the trip, see this? It’s a receiver: pick it up and talk into it. That way I can hear you through the glass if need be.’
‘Did you hear that, princess? If you hurt yourself — because this thing runs; it’s not like a carriage, it runs like the devil — just lift up that tube and tell him.’
‘But who is he, Mimmo? An officer?’
‘No, a driver is … is like a coachman … I’ll say goodbye now, princess. I know we won’t see each other again. This carriage-automobile is grand and Mother Leonora is watching over you. But whatever you may need — by God’s grace you are able to write — know that I am here. Remember: Mimmo Insanguine, gardener at the convent of the Sisters of the Sorrowful Mother, Sciarascura. Remember that. Farewell, princess.’
The coachman drew my hand from Mimmo’s, saying gently, ‘Forgive me, signorina, but it’s getting late.’
And he closed the door. Mimmo’s hand lost, I clung to the window glass and looked at him: his arm was raised in farewell. I watched him until his large body, sheathed in brown velvet, blended among the tree trunks, merging with the oaks that surrounded the convent’s immense lava wall.
20
When Mimmo was taken from me, swallowed up by that sea of oaks, a great weariness made me slump on that soft seat, softer than my bed and all the sofas and chairs in the music room. The carriage — what did Mimmo say it was called? — was like a small room in dark velvet. There were even windows with pleated shades, which filtered in a gentle green light like the leaves in the woods do when the sun is high and scorching. Now that I had said goodbye to Mimmo, I closed the shades on that window as well. What good did it do to look at all those mountains, as bare as Sister Teresa’s bald head? I had seen it for myself, that head! How had it happened? It was very hot, I had gone to the lesson way too early and she had hastened to put her coif back on.
‘Oh Modesta, no, you shouldn’t enter like that without knocking. No, no, you mustn’t do that!’
‘But I knocked…’
‘Well then, that tells me I’m getting deaf, as well as blind! It’s high time, for that matter. I’m really beginning to feel I can’t take any more of these exercises and scales, all those stupid girls banging the keys as if they were monkeys and not God’s creatures … Bah! All in all, growing old isn’t as bad as they say, Modesta. There’s the advantage of no longer seeing Sister Costanza’s ugly puss, may God forgive me, of no longer hearing … but don’t get me started! Plus, as you see, only old age has allowed me the consolation of wearing this light coif when the sun is so hot. But come, let’s get started. You keep me talking here and nothing gets accomplished. Let’s go, in groups of four: one, two, three, four … one, two, three, four…’
She had been right to close those green shades and not see Sister Teresa’s bald head multiplying up, up, amid the dust and heat, to where the last cranium joined the sky … Terrified, she raised her hands to her head. No, they hadn’t shaved her. The thick, sturdy braids were still there, having escaped Sister Costanza’s scissor-sharp fingers just in time.
‘You must call me Mother Costanza now, Modesta, say it: Mother Costanza…’
Or maybe now that she held the convent’s reins, the woman had had second thoughts and was chasing after her. Maybe she would stop the carriage with those strong hands of hers?
‘Does the signorina feel ill? If I may say so, I saw your head swaying left and right in the rear-view mirror and I took it upon myself to stop.’
‘No, I’m not ill, sir, thank you. It’s just that I have a hollow feeling here, in my stomach, and I feel drowsy.’
‘Don’t be alarmed, signorina. It’s nothing. The automobile has this effect on all the women and young ladies. Here, sniff this little bottle. Now I must get back to driving because it’s very late. They’re expecting you at the villa. I see you’re feeling better. Good! You wouldn’t think so, but these salts work. Now you know that they’re here in the armrest in case you feel ill again. See, there’s ammonia in this little round bottle.’