The Good Left Undone(20)
The only respite he had was the library, and now even that had been taken from him. Before the incident, if Silvio was quiet and followed the rules, he was allowed to stay as long as he wished, a privilege for a boy who wasn’t welcome anywhere. Silvio and Domenica spent hours in the library together poring over books that delighted them no matter how many times they read them. Domenica was encouraged to be bold as she read The Three Musketeers. The boy learned to cope by reading Charles Dickens, who wrote of Silvio’s circumstances like no other writer. The stories of the travails of others helped him make sense of his own; the only difference was, the fictional characters who endured hardship were safe inside of books. Silvio was not. He had to live in a village where he had no protection.
Silvio would turn twelve in a few days, and he was eager to become a man. Manhood meant he could finally seize control of his own life. There were signs that it was coming, so he was in preparation for the new role. He approached it in the same fashion he had studied for his sacraments. Silvio knew that his mother could not guide him in this regard, only a father could do so for his son. He would figure it out on his own by reading about it.
Before Silvio had taken the map from the library, he had lost track of the time in the stacks reading about the changes in his body in The Doctor’s Guide to the Adolescent Male. He read things that disturbed and thrilled him, so much so he almost forgot entirely about taking the map and meeting Domenica. But he would not let his friend down. If only he had kept reading and stayed in the library, he would have avoided the worst of this terrible day.
He wished that he would have had time to finish the book about puberty. He had read enough to discern that by the time he turned fourteen, he would physically be a man, well on his way to a strength, height, and weight that would make it impossible for anyone to cross him. At that point, he could leave school, apprentice at a trade, and get a job to earn a wage to care for his mother and himself. Silvio thought it was funny that his glands in puberty were in control of his fate and would be the catalyst to help him leave the pain of his childhood behind. According to the book, it would be so. Manhood would change his life. He would shed his boyhood on the road to Parma. He no longer wanted to explain himself, endure the daily taunts, and be forced to hide when he was chased in the dark. Beyond Domenica’s loyalty, there was nothing for him in this village by the sea. No matter what good he could do, or what he might attempt to achieve or become, in Viareggio, he would remain il bastardo.
CHAPTER 8
Domenica lay in her bed under the window in the kitchen and looked out at the night sky. She was attempting to examine her conscience, but the process was tedious. She disliked the spiritual exercise almost as much as her least favorite chore, the arduous task of pulling the tiny bones from the baccala to cure it for the winter. There were always more fish bones, no matter how many she removed. So it went with sin. She picked apart her actions to prepare for confession, but there were invariably more sins she could report. What good could come from going over and over events that had already happened, whose outcomes could not be changed, and whose residual effects could not be stopped? It all seemed pointless.
It had been a day of shame for the Cabrelli family. Her brother wiggled out of any punishment and made himself out to be some sort of hero for the town library by joining the ruffians on the beach. Aniballi promised the boys lemonade and cookies to celebrate the return of the map. It was disgusting. And just as she expected, her mother’s punishments were severe. No dinner until Sunday. She had been banned from the library for one month. The latter was practically a death sentence, but she would live with it. At least she had seven books under her cot waiting to be read. Silvio probably wouldn’t ever be able to go back to the library, so she would share her stash with him. That was the least she could do. After all, he would have a scar because of her. She felt guilty about that and had already asked God’s forgiveness. And yet, in spite of the fracas, this had been the best day of her life. She had worked for Dottore Pretucci and done a good job. Domenica had found her purpose. She would be a nurse. The happiest moment in a person’s life was when they found the thing they were born to do. Domenica was giddy in the moonlight.
“Domenica, are you asleep?” her father whispered from the archway.
“No, Papa, I am praying.”
“Continue to pray. We can speak in the morning.”
“I’m done.” Domenica quickly blessed herself and sat up in the cot. “Is Mama ever going to speak to me again?”
“I hope so.” Pietro sat down in the straight-backed chair next to the fireplace.
“When I’m a mother, I will always talk to my children no matter what they do.”
“You will do your best when the time comes, just like your mother.”
“Why is everyone angry with me?”
“You’re a strong person, and you pushed a weak one to do a bad thing.”
“Silvio is not weak. He’s a good partner. He’s the only boy I know that can keep up with me on the trails. He’s strong.”
“It doesn’t matter what he is. It was your scheme. You put this in his head! Domenica, there are only two blows to a reputation you cannot recover from in the village. Once you are known as a beggar or a thief, you will always be known as one or the other.”
“We borrowed the map from the library.”