‘A stretch of water blue as your eyes that meet the sky of your forehead.’
‘Just look at that, what a thought! A troubadour, that’s you. I swear to God, you’re like a troubadour! What happened? Did you tumble out of bed this morning? Is that why you’re having such poetic thoughts?’
‘And you, did you tumble out of bed this morning, is that why you’re smoking like a grown-up? You smoke and I’ll … can I look at your eyes? If I look at them, I’ll have a better idea of what the sea is like.’
‘Go ahead! Who said you couldn’t? If it gives you so much pleasure to know what the sea is like, go right ahead. It must give you a lot of pleasure, seeing how you’re blushing. You’re cute, even if you’re locca. Really cute! Who knows who knocked up your mother?’
‘A man of course, and a seaman too, from what she says.’
‘So, now we’re being funny. What happened? The last time you were like a mummy! What happened? Did you wake up all of a sudden last night?’
‘Yes, I woke up, and not last night. I wanted to ask you about that too…’
‘What? How should I know about your waking up! Go ask your mother. The sea is one thing but … Hey, you’re red as a beet. Have you been drinking? What else did you want to ask? Tell me, and stop staring at me! Enough! I’m tired of this. So help me God, all this staring is making my head spin. You have beautiful eyes up close like this. I hadn’t noticed before. Honey, that’s what they look like … who knows who knocked up your mother? I’m going back to work now. Enough of this! Hey! Why are you holding me like that? Are you out of your head?’
The heat was rising again, the earth was steaming and the mountains receded, blue again. I couldn’t let him get away, I had to ask him why — when I was watching him before, and now that I was holding his arm — why I felt that urge to touch myself in the spot where …
‘What kind of question is that to ask! At your age! You’re a scourge! My father is right: a scourge! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?’
‘Why should I be ashamed? I discovered it myself. Nobody told me, so it must mean that everyone knows about it.’
‘Good for you! What logic! Watch out, picciridda! Let go of my arm, little girl, or you’ll be sorry. You’re making me lose my temper, watch it!’
‘Why should I watch out? I’m not scared of you, and you have to answer me. So answer me, did you know about it?’
‘Of course I knew about it! What do you take me for, a dunce? I’m a man and if you don’t let me go, I’ll touch you myself and we’ll make a frittata.’
‘So let’s make this frittata. I’m not scared! You’re the one who’s scared. Some man you are! You’re all shaky.’
He had pulled away and was getting up. Strangely, I had no strength left in my arms, but when I saw him standing there picking up his coppola2 without looking at me, I rolled on the ground, unable to get up, and grabbed his ankles with both my arms. I was afraid he might kick me but instead, cap in hand, he first leaned down with his hands out as if to push me aside, then dropped to his knees and fell on top of me. His eyes were closed. Had he hurt himself falling? Had he fainted? An eternity went by. I didn’t dare say anything. I was afraid he would get off of me. Besides, even if I had wanted to, I didn’t have the energy even to move my lips now. That strange languor was unfamiliar to me, a sweet lassitude, awash with shivers that kept me afloat. Behind my back a precipice had surely opened up, making me dizzy, but those shivers kept me suspended in space. I opened my eyes and heard my voice saying, ‘Now I know what the sea is like.’
He didn’t answer. Staring at me without moving, he pulled down my skirt, lifted my petticoat and tore off my panties. He didn’t move, but with his fingers, continuing to stare at me, he began to stroke me just like I did when Tina screamed. Abruptly he turned his face away with a shudder. Was he leaving?
‘No, I’m here. Where do you think I’m going? This is where I should be now.’
Reassured, I closed my eyes. Tina was screaming, and my whole body was shaken by those tremors I knew so well. Then the stroking went so deep that … what was he doing? I looked at him. He had spread my legs, and he sank his face between my thighs, caressing me with his tongue. Of course I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t looked at him. That was something I couldn’t do by myself. This thought made me shudder so deeply that Tina’s screams were silenced, and I was the one screaming loudly, louder than she cried out when Mama locked her in the toilet … Had I fainted or had I fallen asleep? When I opened my eyes there was a profound silence in the chiana.
‘We have to stop here now, bambinella. Even though you’re a naughty little girl, I don’t want to ruin you. Put on your panties and scram. Just be thankful I managed to get my head straight after you made me lose control. Oh, you really made me lose my head, so help me God. Who would have thought it? You’re tempting, really tempting, but I don’t want to ruin you. On your feet, beat it!’
3
I got up and put on my panties, but I didn’t run off, even though his voice was gruff and he wouldn’t look at me. It wasn’t like before. I wasn’t scared of him anymore, and I didn’t even say goodbye. I walked home slowly, teetering from fatigue and the recollection of those tremors that made me stumble at every step. It had been beautiful.
The earlier stroking seemed like day-old bread compared to Tuzzu’s caresses. I had been right to ask Tuzzu. He knew everything, and although he got a little angry, he answered. Even now, staring at that lopsided wall that Mama called a house, I knew that beyond the distant mountains that appeared and disappeared like the spirits of the dead there were other, real houses, and roads, and the sea.
The old woman who came once a month always talked about the spirits … She must be coming today or tomorrow, that old woman. She must be because this morning Mama fired the oven and made bread. Mama always makes bread when the old woman comes, and along with the bread she bakes cookies that she then serves with rosolio.
I can hear talking behind the curtain. It must be the old woman with her bag full of rags that Mama will later sew together side by side.
Pushing aside the black curtain, I stood in the doorway, frozen. Right there in front of me, sitting at the table as if waiting for me, was a tall, vigorous man, taller and more vigorous than Tuzzu’s father. A giant with a mass of tangled hair falling over his forehead and a blue jacket in a shiny, furry fabric I had never seen. He was staring at me, smiling, with eyes as blue as his jacket. His teeth were white like Tuzzu’s and his father’s.
‘Well, well, just look at what a fine piece of skirt my daughter turns out to be! I’m happy, truly pleased! I was sure your mother would produce nothing but Tinas. I’m delighted to see that it’s not so, my darling daughter. It’s a great satisfaction to see the flesh of your flesh turn into such a striking bit of skirt like you.’
‘Stop it! Don’t talk that way. Leave Modesta alone! She’s not a piece of skirt. She’s still a child, a little girl! Get out of here! I’ve been telling you that all evening. Get out, go away or I’ll call the police!’
‘Listen to her! The police! And where do you think you’ll find them? Around the corner? Go ahead, go! Run down to the chiana, it’ll do you good! You’ve turned into a fat cow. Look at me, what a fine figure I am. I’ve run all my life!’
Saying this, he stood up to his full height, tapping his robust chest and hips that revealed not a trace of fat. After twirling around to display himself, he came toward me, laughing. His voice was soft like the fabric of his jacket. I had never touched a fabric like that. He took my chin in his hands and stared at me, still laughing.