Stella Mia (11 page)

More rounds of applause and cheers ring out through the crowd. Maria hugs me. Then she pulls me away and says softly so no one else can hear, “I had a feeling that first night I met you that you were a gifted singer. My gypsy intuition was correct once again. I could see in your eyes how much you loved music and even from the way you talked about it. I'm sorry that I didn't give you any warning, but I knew, if I had asked you to sing tonight, you would have turned me down again as you did the night we met. I know how shy you can be. But when I heard you singing by the beach while you were washing your clothes the other day, I knew you needed to stop hiding that voice. You must grace us with your singing every night. You hear me?” Maria pushes my hair back off my shoulders and holds my chin up—an action I have often seen her do with her own daughter, Isabella.

“I'm sorry, Maria. I'm sorry I talked to you the way I did before.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You were right. I should not have encouraged you to use your beauty to get more customers. I am terribly sorry. Please forgive me.”

I embrace Maria and say, “All is forgiven.”

Maria turns her attention back to the crowd and yells, “Who is next?”

Tonio comes up with a stool and his mandolin. He plays it expertly, but does not sing. He told me the other night that he leaves the singing to his parents.

I am listening to Tonio and tapping my foot to the playful sounds of the mandolin when someone taps me on the shoulder. Looking up, I'm surprised to see Carlo.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I've been trying to get your attention, but you're quite the star tonight.” Carlo looks at me with what appears to be an expression of admiration and respect.

“You heard me sing?” My cheeks burn. I feel exposed since my song was very personal.

“Yes. It was incredible. I don't think I've ever heard anyone sing like that.”

“You don't need to flatter me. But thank you.”

“I'm not flattering you. I'm serious.” Carlo's voice sounds hurt, as if I implied he was lying.

“I'm sorry. I just hate being the center of attention. I guess you can say I don't receive compliments well.”

“How are you feeling? I know you had quite a bit of a fright earlier today with that scum Rinaldo.”

“I'm fine. Just a little tired. Thank you for asking.”

“Do you think we can take a walk? We don't have to go far from the gypsies, just enough so that I can talk to you without shouting above the music.”

“I'd like that. Let me tell Maria, in case she comes looking for me.”

I walk over to Maria, who is drinking wine out of a wooden cup. Her arm is slung around her husband's neck, and she is sitting on his lap. I can tell they are still madly in love with each other even after all these years of being married. It is strange for me to see that since I never saw such love in my own parents' marriage.

“Maria, I am taking a walk with my friend. We aren't going far.”

Carlo is standing behind me. He extends his hand toward Maria. “Carlo. It's a pleasure to meet you,
signora
.”

“Maria, please. This is my husband, Gianni.”

Carlo shakes Gianni's hand.

“So you are the one we have to thank for rescuing our Sarina earlier today.”

Carlo shuffles his feet as he glances down at them and then back up at Maria and Gianni. “You don't need to thank me. I'm grateful I was there when I was.”

“It was nice to meet you, Carlo. Enjoy your
passeggiata
. Please join us later. We have plenty of wine.” Gianni holds up his wine bottle and laughs. He is already a bit drunk.

“Thank you. We will.” Carlo places his hand on the small of my back as we walk away. Maria catches my eye and winks.

Carlo and I walk farther away from the tent and the din of the gypsies. It is a cloudy night, and the stars are hidden, much to my disappointment. Looking at the stars is one way I feel close to my younger siblings, especially Carlotta. I imagine that when I am staring up into the night sky, Carlotta is singing “Stella Mia,” the song I taught her, and looking at the stars as well.

“I know you didn't want to tell me earlier where you are from. Is it because you ran away from home?” Carlo asks.

“I guess I cannot deny that after the song you heard me sing tonight.”

“You don't have to be afraid of me, Sarina. I would never betray your secrets.”

“I'm sorry, Carlo. I have learned to be wary ever since I left home and have been on my own. Besides, I had just met you. I don't give my trust easily.”

“Even though I saved you?” The hurt that was evident in Carlo's tone earlier is back.

“That is true. Forgive me?” I cannot help but give him a sly smile.

“That will be easy, especially when you flash me that pretty smile.” Carlo's eyes light up.

“I'm sorry about your mother,” he continues. “Why did you leave home if you miss and love her so much?”

“I had to if I hoped to stay alive.”

Carlo's brows knit together. He stops in his tracks and takes my hands. “Who tried to hurt you?”

“My father. He beat me and my mother many times. It kept getting worse. Even if he never did kill me, I could not take my miserable life there anymore. Only my mother and siblings kept me going. Though I am happier now, I cannot stop feeling guilty over having left them.”

“You did what you needed to. I'm sure your mother understands.”

“I hope so.”

We continue walking. The red tent now looks quite far off in the distance, but I'm not worried. I feel safe with Carlo.

“How long will you be here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know gypsies often roam. I've lived in Taormina my whole life, and we've seen our share of different nomadic gypsies. I doubt it is any different with this group.”

“Yes, Maria told me they plan on staying here only through the end of the summer.”

“And you will be leaving with them too?”

“I'm not sure yet. I would like to stay in Taormina. The town has captured my heart.”

“Yes, although I was born and still live here, I have no desire to leave.”

“You live in town?”

“Yes, near the piazza.”

I'm about to ask him what his father does since he had mentioned Rinaldo had worked for his father, but I'm distracted when suddenly Carlo takes my hand. I'm too stunned to say anything else. We continue walking hand in hand. My pulse is racing, and my head feels slightly woozy. His hand feels so big wrapped around my small one.

“We should start making our way back. I don't want Maria to worry.”

“Of course.”

We walk the rest of the way back in silence. I'm grateful, for I don't know if my mind can form right now any coherent responses to questions Carlo might ask me.

As we get closer to the crowd, I let go of Carlo's hand, too embarrassed to let the gypsies see.

Gianni gives Carlo and me two cups of wine. Maria is singing once more, and the other women are dancing around her.

“Sarina, I know it's late, but is there any way you can give me a reading now?”

“I don't see why not. We can sit by the bonfire so I can see the cards. Let me get them.”

I walk inside the tent and look for my cards. I then remember my deck is not a complete set after a few of the cards were blown into the sea. They will have to do.

I step outside and see Carlo is already by the bonfire. He's looking into the flames. Suddenly, I realize I feel nervous. But I also feel good. There is a happy feeling inside of me that I have never experienced. Slowly, I walk over to him, hoping my nerves will calm by the time I reach Carlo.

Forcing my voice to sound light, I say, “Carlo, I must warn you that your reading might be off. When Rinaldo got upset, he pounded my table with his fist, sending a few of my cards flying and into the water. I wasn't able to retrieve all of them. So you'll be getting a reading with several cards missing from the deck. If that makes you uncomfortable, we can wait to do the reading until I replace my deck of cards with a new one.”

“Perhaps those cards disappeared so that they would
not
appear in my reading for one reason or the other.” Carlo laughs.

“Perhaps.” I also laugh and shake my head.

Unfolding a sheet that I brought to lay the cards on, I spread it on the sand. Carlo helps me smooth out its edges and then takes off his sandals, placing them on two corners of the sheet to keep the sea breeze from folding it. I take off my own
ciabattas
and place them on the other two corners of the sheet. We sit down cross-legged on opposite sides of the sheet, leaving the center free for the cards. Flipping through my deck, I pull out the court cards—King, Queen, Knight, Page—of each suit. I shuffle only these cards and ask Carlo to take the one from the top with his left hand and place it face up in the center of the sheet.

“Knight of Swords. This is your Significator, the card that represents the person who is receiving the reading. It also identifies the person by their sex, age, and astrological sign and may also reveal other traits such as personality, work, and other characteristics. Usually, the person who pulls this card has an astrological sign of either Aquarius, Gemini, or Libra. Do you know which sign you are?”

“Yes, I am Aquarius.” Carlo swallows hard, then licks his lips. He is no doubt impressed that the card accurately depicted his zodiac sign. For a moment, my gaze is fixed on the rosy hue of his mouth and the extra fullness his upper lip has.

“Aquarius. So that means your birthday is either at the end of January or beginning of February.”

“I see you know your astrology. I was born on January 21, 1947.”

I mentally note that he is twenty-two, and five years older than me. I thought he was no more than nineteen.

“We both share the suit of swords as our Significator cards. Mine is Page of Swords.”

In order to learn the cards and their meanings, I had done readings for myself, and naturally I had wanted to know which of the cards was my Significator.

“What is your astrological sign?” Carlo asks. “Don't tell me we also have Aquarius in common?” He gives me a mischievous grin.

“No, we don't. I am a Gemini. My birthday is June thirteenth.”

“Ahh! Nonna Lucia, my grandmother, is also a Gemini, and she is an avid follower of the zodiac. She's told me that Geminis and Aquarians are compatible. So I guess we do have a lot in common.” Carlo crosses his arms, and his grin widens. He looks quite satisfied with himself.

“It takes more than having compatible astrological signs and common Significator cards for two people to get along.” I say this in a very matter-of-fact tone and don't dare look up as I do my best to keep a serious expression.

“Of course. But it does help to have the universe aligned. Don't you agree?”

I glance up. Carlo is staring at me intensely. I quickly avert my gaze and shrug my shoulders as I say, “Perhaps. Getting back to your Knight of Swords Significator.” Forcing my attention back to the card, I close my eyes and try to listen to what my intuition is telling me about Carlo.

“You are a generous person, sometimes too generous. Be careful. While this is an admirable trait to have, it can also be used to the advantage of your enemies if you trust the wrong person.” I glance up at Carlo. He nods his head knowingly.

I continue. “When you commit yourself to a project, idea, or even to someone, you do not hold back. You give it everything you have.”

“That is true.” Once again Carlo nods his head.

I exhale a sigh of relief. So far, my reading seems to be accurate. I am afraid of being so off that he will surely believe Rinaldo's accusations of my being a swindling gypsy.

“I also see, Carlo, that you are not afraid to take risks. But again, you must exercise caution. Think well before making any weighty decision. Your ability to charge forward and not be intimidated will aid you when you are faced with obstacles. But your fearlessness could also blind you and lead you to believe that you are invincible, thus causing you to take risky measures that could backfire. If you learn to harness this gift, especially when helping others who are in need, you can greatly benefit from it.”

Carlo's face looks pensive.

I keep the Significator card lying where it is, but put back the other court cards into the remaining deck of cards. I shuffle the cards and then hand them to Carlo.

“Think of the question you want to ask me while cutting the deck of cards into three piles. Use your left hand to cut the deck. Then lay the cards out in three separate piles from left to right. Do not tell me your question until
after
I am done with the reading.”

“Why must I use my left hand to cut the cards?”

“Because it is the hand of the heart—the life force that determines your path.”

“Do I have to tell you my question? Can you just tell me what the cards say?”

“I will not betray your confidence to anyone if that is what you are worried about.” I look Carlo directly in the eyes so he knows I am sincere in giving him my word.

“That is not what I'm worried about. I can tell you are a person of integrity. I'm embarrassed to say the question is of a personal nature.” Carlo seems slightly nervous.

“Why don't you rephrase the question so that it's vague yet is along the lines of what you want to know?”

“That should do.” Carlo takes a deep breath as he begins cutting the cards. After placing them in three separate piles as I had instructed him to do, he clasps his hands and places them in his lap. He watches me as I begin turning over the cards. Though I've become accustomed to my male clients staring at me while I give my readings, none of them have managed to unnerve me like Carlo has. I feel my pulse race and know I must be blushing. At least it is nighttime, so I'm hoping he won't be able to see my face burning up.