Cousin, how are you? Have you forgiven my sister Lia? Sometimes she gets caught up in the heat of the moment! Its been a lifetime since that evening, and Ive already forgotten about it, Ture replied. Then he let the most longspun moment of his life pass, drew a long breath, and declared: I cant forget you, Rosa!
The young girl gasped, so much so that she knocked over most of the vegetables she had collected. She quickly picked it up again and slipped off in the direction of her father, dismissing Ture, who had remained motionless.
In the meantime, Zi Duca had fallen asleep in the shade of a mulberry tree. His daughter woke him up, shaking him so abruptly that he was startled.
Father, stand up! Come on, dont sleep! Damn hell! I had just fallen asleep!
Zi Duca huffed repeatedly, rinsed his face with some water he had in his saddlebag, then, with the help of his nephew, he rose and was ready to set off again with his daughter.
Females are a blessing and a curse, dear Ture!
Rosa glared at him, then began to clean him up. Father, Id better wash these clothes tonight! That tobacco in your pocket has stained everything! Ill go alone. Im sure Lia doesnt want to come.
They said goodbye to Ture and started walking home. After a few steps, Rosa turned to her cousin and waved stealthily. She was doubtful that he had understood.
Ture was still surprised: did Rosa want to meet him at the fountain that evening, alone? He turned those words over and over in his head, yet he could not make any different sense of them.
Why not invite him earlier, when he had confessed to thinking of her all the time? Why run away like that and then throw that mysterious invitation at him instead?
He didnt understand, but he wanted to believe that this was a clear signal that she wanted to meet him. Besides, what could poor Ture do? He had never had a woman, and so they were a completely unknown universe to him.
He could only wait for her to the fountain and hope to talk to her openly this time.
Ture arrived at the fountain early. He hid in the shade of a vine and watched the women passing by. When he saw Rosa emerge from the path, he was startled. He waited a moment, saw that she was alone, and realised that he had been right. From that moment on, every word could change his life, and his palms began to sweat again. To kick this off, he decided to take the situation head on and approached his cousin. He didn't even have time to say a word that the young woman shoved a pitcher into his hands.
Ture understood the meaning of this sudden gesture: in his frenzy to meet Rosa, he had not even thought of creating an alibi for himself in the eyes of the people who came to the fountain. Instead, that pitcher protected them. Although they were first cousins, as the children of two sisters, the situation could arouse suspicion.
It was Rosa who broke those initial moments of silence.
Ive been thinking about you since last years harvest, Ture Pileri! Its been thirteen months!
Tures eyes widened in astonishment, he went back in his mind to that harvest, but nothing came up, no particular memory of those days, nothing that would remind him of that little girl who was about to become a woman.
Ture was bewildered by this revelation, and he didnt even realise to take the filling amphora out from under the spring. He did not realise that time had passed so suddenly that the water, gushing out, soaked his shirt up to his sleeves.
And why did you wait all these months to tell me that, Rosa? To be honest, if you had chosen my sister, I would never have told you. I would have suffered, but I would have got over it. Lia likes you, but then that evening, right here, she understood that she was unrequited and, reluctantly, she is putting her soul at rest. At first, I didnt want to tell you anything anyway. I didnt want to hurt my sister, but when you told me that today
What I told you today at San Nicola is the truth! I want to be honest with you, and Ive been honest with your sister. Im not interested in her and, until that evening at the trough, I wasnt interested in you either. Then, I dont know, since your words that time you are in my head. Im not good with words, you know, but thats how I feel, and you cant imagine how much I prayed that I wasnt wrong today when you said that thing about the dirty shirt to your father and the trough.
Rosa, who had been rinsing and rinsing the clothes all the time, stopped for a moment, looked around, and, realising that they were alone, hugged Ture, who seemed taken aback by this gesture. She kissed him on the cheek.
An almost embarrassing smile formed on his lips, but he didnt even have time to wrap his arms around her when she was already back on the washing line.
Ture thought back to the story of the little dove and his sisters words A little dove, if you try to catch it, flies away!
My father loves you, Rosa resumed. You know, he has never believed what they say... I mean, in the story that you dodged from the war. He says that Zi Peppe Pileri did well and that he would have done the same thing for his son!
Ture did not want to change the subject and, focusing back up, asked: Are you going to tell Lia?
I do not feel like it yet. Moreover, its too soon.
Are we engaged then? Ture asked, lowering his gaze.
Rosa smiled. She was only sixteen, but she seemed much wiser than her cousin in matters of the heart. So she answered him with gentle eyes: How naive you are, Ture Pileri! Tell me, are you always good at imitating the call of the doves?
Her cousin smiled. Rosas last question had relieved him of his embarrassment. He put his hands over his mouth and began to imitate the cry of the birds.
It was time to go home, so Rosa put the wet clothes in the basket while Ture emptied and filled the pitcher for the last time and offered to accompany her to the first houses of San Basilio.
There they said goodbye, and after he had kissed her on the cheek, his hand lingered on her face. He followed Rosa with his eyes until he saw her disappear down the street, then walked home.
He returned to San Giorgio very excited, tempted whether or not to tell Concetta. He took off his boots and went inside. As soon as he closed the door behind him, however, he felt a strange tension. Everything was eerily quiet.
Concetta hugged him, almost knocking the breath out of him.
Whats happened? Ture asked, puzzled.
My son, his mother answered, they say a postcard has arrived for you in the village.
Postcard? What postcard?
His mother, drawing all the strength she could from her heart, said: The war, Ture. They called you to go to war!
V
Ture skipped dinner, dismissed his family with a brief wave of his hand, and had Concetta bring him a basin of cool water to wash his face.
He was about to stand again when he saw that, in the meantime, he had been surrounded by Santo, Betta, Nino, and Calogero, his younger siblings, who tried to comfort him with their candid innocence.
Ture dried his face, moved the basin of water aside, and held Calogero, who was not yet three years old, in his arms. He kissed him on the neck as he always did and then knelt and hugged the other three, trying to hide the tears that welled up in his heart.
Concetta and Sina, his other two sisters who were already girls, made up the bed for him, so their brother, leaving the little ones, spread his arms and held them close to him. Then he got ready for bed.
Hardly a half-hour passed before his mother joined him. Ture couldnt sleep while his other brothers in the room had already fallen asleep, so the woman, under the light of a small candle, quietly approached her sons bed and, in a quiet voice, tried to reassure him.
Your father says he will find a solution, Nunzia said.
My dear mother, I want to be honest, when I did the medical examination in Tortorici, I felt in my soul that my time had not come. I dont know why I had this feeling. It wasnt only the fact that my father had found me the recommendation to be exempted. I was calm. I thought, If war is in my destiny when it comes, it comes. Then my time had not come, but now, I know that I must leave. I felt it somehow, but not right now, when Ture cleared his throat. As vulnerable as he was at that moment, he didnt want to reveal to his mother what had happened only a few hours before with Rosa. Rosa! Those moments of happiness seemed so far away! Within that one day, things that would happen in a lifetime had happened.
How could he tell her now? He was already struggling with words. How to look her in the face and say, My beloved, I must go to war?
He thought about all these things, losing himself in his mothers sad eyes. Then he caressed her gently.
It will be as God wishes, mother. Please, dont worry!
A tear ran down the womans cheeks. She kissed her son on the forehead and let him rest for the night.
When the dim light of the candle left the room with his mother, Ture felt the weight of the world on him.
So much for Gnura Mena!
All the jinx of the world had hit him now that his heart had finally known love. Now that he had a reason to get out of bed every morning. Now that the future was beginning to look less bleak.
The war, like a blow between his head and neck, threw him back into distress, numb. He would lose so much love! His little brothers, his parents, and Rosa.
Would she, in the bloom of her youth, so beautiful and graceful, have waited for him? And for how long? In the end, it had only been a kiss on the cheek. Two words exchanged on an afternoon at the trough. It might have been just a fleeting moment and nothing more. How real could the love of a sixteen-year-old girl be? Although she told him she had had him in her heart for more than a year. But would she be willing to wait for him for who knows how much longer, staying away from so many other young men who would court her?
These doubts gripped him. He felt that the fear of losing Rosa was heavier than his own life.
He sensed his brothers quiet sleep floating in the dark, envied their age and blissful innocence.
He loved them so much that the thought that he would also go to war to ensure their peaceful future comforted him.
That night, Ture Pileri felt atonement: the recommendation, the nasty rumours of the other villagers, the jinx, the rejection given to Lia. Everything would be alright if he went off to war. The evil tongues would have been hushed up, the jinx would have been fulfilled, and even Lia would have breathed a sigh of relief for not having compromised herself with a soldier whose fate was completely uncertain.
But that didnt seem to work out well because a family would lose, perhaps forever, the love and the arms of a son. Then a young lover would be left, frozen like a rosebud after a night frost.
There was no consolation in Tures soul, only the extreme desire to carry all these burdens upon himself, undeterred, and then, as he had told his mother, he mumbled, As God wishes.
Just before dawn, Zi Peppe got up and rode his mule to the village. He wanted to make a last, desperate attempt to save his son from the war. The first rays of sunlight touched him, already on the road to Salicaria.
He had planned to reach his destination early in the morning and meet the head of the district council, Marchiolo, careful not to cross path with the municipal messenger. He was afraid that he would give him the infamous postcard. He arrived in Galati in the early morning hours and, cautiously, looked for the officer at the Circolo dei Nobili.
As soon as he saw him, Marchiolo immediately understood the reason for his visit. He had already received many other help requests in the last few days because of those cursed postcards that called even those who could not be called up to arms. He signalled with his head to Zi Peppe to retire to the back and joined him.
Zi Peppe, did the postcard reach Ture too?
Lord Marchiolo, we havent received anything yet, but Ive heard that hes on the list to be summoned. They say three people from the village have to leave, and they were considered unfit at the examination.
Lord Marchiolo, though sympathetic to the rightful prayers of an affectionate father, shook his head as if apologetic.
Zi Peppe, theres little you can do for your son, as for the others: the war isnt turning in favour of the Duce, and all able-bodied young men are needed at the front. Those who desert risk being shot. I cant do anything this time! A physical exam is one thing, a call to arms is another. In January, at the Military District, I had contacts with the medical lieutenant and could pull some strings: it was a matter of a professional opinion, so we could at least get a chance. And thats what happened: we made it. Now, however, they call directly from the lists and without medical approval. He who has two arms and two legs go. Is your son an amputee? No! So hell have to enlist.
Zi Peppe took off his cap and wiped his sweat. In front of the honest words of the Sir, he felt powerless, and, with a voice broken by resignation, he tried to advance some faint hope.
Ive come to terms with the fact that my son has to leave, but cant we even stretch things out a little?
He did not want to give in to the idea of losing Ture and tried to find at least a temporary expedient to postpone his departure. Lord Marchiolo pondered for a while, then, as if enlightened, looked up at Zi Peppe.
You said, if Im not mistaken, that he still hasnt received the postcard? You know its supposed to arrive only by hearsay, but you havent signed anything. Did I get that right?
Yes, Sir!
Then, Zi Peppe, theres one thing we can do, and thats final! Of course, as Ive already told you, sooner or later, he has to leave, but at least for a month, a month and a half, we can stretch things out, as you said.
Zi Peppe leaned with his whole body and soul towards his interlocutor. He had understood that perhaps a solution, albeit temporary, even this time, was found.
You have to send him away from the house! Marchiolo said. Make sure that when the messenger comes to serve him the postcard, hes not there, and he mustnt be in the days to come either. Dont do anything stupid, Im telling you! Dont hide him in the stable and send him to the country the next day, because if they catch him, the Carabinieri will shoot him and you too!
And where shall I send him?
Send him to some farm in Nicosia, Enna, Paternò! Anywhere far from the province of Messina. Sooner or later, the notification will reach him there too but, from town to town, the paperwork is slower. If, perhaps, in the new year, the war ends, by the time he leaves, they train him and assign him... he might end up not even serving a day in the front line.
And if the messenger comes with the postcard in his hand, what shall I tell him?
You have to give him an address! Its enough to say, my son is in Carrapipi, at Mr. Tizios farm, without any other specifications. In this case, he will not be considered a draft evader or deserter, but the call will be left open and marked as in notification. In the end, Zi Peppe, Im telling you not to get your hopes up: they will find him! But at least a month, and maybe a few more, will pass.