Stella Mia (29 page)

“You don't have to give me an answer now. Like I said before, I'm leaving in a couple of days. I know that's not a lot of time to ponder changing your life.”

“Paolo. I'm sorry, but it is a tremendous change. I would be giving up my home, the chance of ever seeing my family again, for a world I know nothing of.”

“We'd come back and visit your family. Your father could do nothing to you once we are wed. This would be your chance to have contact with them again. You could write to them and telephone. Sarina, I know you don't have feelings for me now, but maybe in time. I wouldn't rush you, and I'd treat you like a queen.” Paolo glances nervously away from my gaze. I can tell he thinks I am a virgin. Would he feel the same way about me if he knew I gave myself to another man—a man I still long for?

Placing my hands on Paolo's, I say, “I do care about you, Paolo. But I don't want you sacrificing yourself for me. Don't worry about me. I will be fine. I always am.”

Paolo grips my hands. He looks into my eyes, but doesn't say anything. I see the pain in his eyes. Once again, I've managed to hurt someone.

If only I could leave Sicily and all of my memories of Carlo behind. Start fresh somewhere else. I'm tired. Tired of mourning the people I can no longer be with . . . tired of being hungry . . . tired of looking for work . . . tired of begging for money . . . tired of asking people if they want their fortunes read . . . tired of the stares some people give me . . . tired of the curses from the other gypsies . . . tired of the men who think I'm also a prostitute . . . I'm just so very tired.

And in that moment, I hear a voice—a voice that sounds so far away, as if I've stepped outside my body and am looking down from the sky above—and I tell Paolo, “All right. Take me with you.”

La Terra Senza Lacrime

 

 

A LAND OF NO TEARS

 

 

 

 

T
he Mediterranean winds that blow in from the Sahara, known as
lo scirocco,
have been blowing since yesterday. An oppressive, humid heat often accompanies these winds. The heavy air matches my spirits. For today, Paolo and I will set sail for America. I feel conflicted and scared—unsure of what to expect when we arrive in this new strange land that will become my home.

Instead of leaving for America in just a couple of days as Paolo was originally supposed to do, he extended his departure for another week and a half. We decided to marry before leaving and needed the extra time to make preparations. Somehow Paolo was able to find a priest who was willing to marry us so soon. Of course the priest had asked if I was pregnant and perhaps that was the reason for the hasty wedding. But Paolo explained that we were leaving for America and he didn't want us to be sharing a room on the ship without being properly wed. The priest was happy to hear that and gave us his blessing to get married in church. The wedding was two days ago in Messina. Angela and her husband were kind enough to close their shop for the day and be our witnesses. Paolo had wanted his parents to do the honors, but the moment they heard of his plans to marry me they returned to America, saying they wanted nothing to do with this sham marriage. Of course they didn't approve. Paolo had been honest with them and told them how I had run away from home and had been forced to make a living reading tarot cards. They told Paolo he would regret marrying me and asked how could he trust that I wouldn't steal his money since I was a gypsy and used to swindling people. His insistence that I was a good person fell on deaf ears. They believed I had cast some sort of spell on him that was clouding his judgment. When he tried to tell them that I was also a talented singer and had sung in the reputable Villa Carlotta hotel in Taormina, they said a woman performing in a nightclub was no better than a gypsy. Naturally, their opinions stung, but I had become accustomed to people looking down at me. I did try, however, to give Paolo a chance to back out of the wedding when I heard how his parents felt, in case they had influenced him. But he assured me he hadn't changed his mind.

After I had accepted Paolo's proposal on the beach, he insisted on getting a room for me in the same hotel where he was staying. But I was terrified of meeting his parents. Even before I knew what they thought of me, I suspected they would not approve. I begged him to just let me continue living on the beach until we were married. But instead, he booked a room for me in a different hotel so I would be spared being so close to his parents. I know I will have to meet them when we are in America. But at least then I will look more presentable than I had looked while staying on the beach. Then again, they might not ever want to meet me.

Paolo took me to a dress shop to buy a dress for our wedding. I chose the simplest dress I could find, not wanting to spend a lot of Paolo's money. I also felt silly choosing an elaborate gown since it would just be me, Paolo, Angela, and her husband at the church.

As we stood at the altar, listening to the priest's words, I stole glances at Paolo. He is a good man, and I already care about him. Perhaps in time, I can fall in love with him. I want to please him since he is doing so much for me.

On our wedding night, Paolo sensed my anxiety and told me we could wait until we were in America to consummate our marriage. I was relieved, but I also felt guilty. I just was not ready yet to be intimate with another man. How could I be when just a couple of months ago I had been with Carlo? After we had returned to the Villa Carlotta, Carlo and I had not shared a room. We had both known Signore Conti would not allow it since we weren't married. It didn't matter, of course, that we had been living together on the Aeolian Islands. Besides, I would not have felt comfortable, even if Carlo had suggested we stay in the same room.

Now here we are standing at the port in Messina. I feel very small in comparison to the massive ship that will take us to America. Although Paolo had flown to Sicily for his vacation, he wanted to sail back home. He thought it would be a nice honeymoon for us.

“Wait 'til you see the size of the ship, Sarina! And the inside is supposed to be very luxurious.”

I try to act as if I am as excited as he is. But all I can think about is leaving my family behind. I keep looking to see if they've come to see me off. Paolo went to my family's house yesterday to let them know that we'd been married, and that I would be leaving for America. I didn't go with him out of fear that somehow my father would stop me from leaving with Paolo. Paolo told me he would not let that happen, but he is so gentle and so much smaller in stature than my father. I was not convinced that Paolo stood a chance against him. I begged Paolo to hide behind the tree that stands outside the house and wait until my father was out. While Paolo was gone, I was sick with worry. When he returned, he told me he had seen my father leaving the house just as he was approaching. So Paolo waited until my father was gone. Paolo told me for a moment he was tempted to approach my father and tell him that I was his wife now, and that my father could do nothing about it or ever harm me again. But on second thought, Paolo feared that if he did this, he would not have a chance to talk to my mother.

Paolo told me that my mother, Carlotta, and Enzo had been happy to hear that I was well. But they had looked crestfallen when they heard I would be moving to America. My mother had given Paolo her blessings and had asked him to take care of me. When he had asked her if she would be able to come to the port to see me off, she had said she would try but did not know if she could get away without my father's noticing.

I know the chances of my mother's coming are slim. Still, I would feel a bit better about this trip if I could see her one last time.

“It's almost time for us to board the ship, Sarina.” Paolo glances at his watch. He seems nervous, as if he's afraid I won't be able to go through with this.

“Please. Let's just wait until we absolutely have to board.”

Paolo nods his head. “All right.”

I am wearing a black-and-white checkered suit—another gift from Paolo. In fact, he insisted on taking me shopping so I could buy clothes for the trip. And he said he would outfit me with a new wardrobe once we were in New York. When I put on the suit this morning, I no longer saw the naïve, desperate girl who had run away from home almost six months ago. I was now a woman.

Lo scirocco
is still fiercely blowing, whipping up my hair, which I had cut into a chin-length bob for the wedding. I tuck the unruly strands behind my ears, and shade my eyes from the sun as I look into the distance for any sign of my family.

The ship's horn sounds, resembling the deep, mournful tone of a death knell. I look frantically at Paolo, not wanting to give up hope that my family will come. Paolo's eyes fill with sadness.

“I'm sorry, Sarina. It'll be time soon to board the ship.”

“Please, Paolo. Let's wait until we absolutely can't wait any longer. It's not like we're far. We're only steps away from the boarding ramp.”

Paolo glances again at his watch and then at the ship.

“All right. I can't say no to you.” He gives me a sheepish smile, and I reward him with a kiss on his cheek. He looks surprised but pleased.

Ten minutes later, the ship's second horn blasts. My heart sinks.
Stupida!
I chide myself. Haven't I learned well these past few months that it's useless having dreams or hopes? Closing my eyes, I accept that I won't see Mama or the children again—or at least for a long time. I think about how Paolo told me we could visit. But it seems a distant reality.

“Let's go, Paolo. They're not coming. No use for us to wait until the final ship's horn.”

Paolo places his arm around my shoulders as we begin making our way toward the ship's ramp. I lean into him for support. This last disappointment is too much of a blow for me. We're about halfway up the ramp when I hear the voices of children screaming.

“Sarina! Sarina!”

I turn around and see Carlotta and Enzo jumping and down, waving their hands to get my attention. I don't see my mother, but then I see her doing her best to catch up to the children.

Running off the ramp, I bump into several other passengers who are boarding the ship.

I bend down as Carlotta and Enzo rush into my arms. Tears are blinding my vision. I pull away and stand up and all but collapse into my mother's waiting open arms.

“I've missed you so much, too, my daughter. And now we'll be losing you again.”

“We'll visit,” Paolo says.

I turn around. The somber expression he had earlier has returned.

My mother nods her head. Her lips are pursed tightly together. I've seen her do this before, usually after my father has given her a beating, when she is doing her best not to cry in front of my siblings and me.

“And I'll write to you, Mama. Is there any way you can get to the mail before Papá does?”

“They're delivering the mail later in the morning now, while he is still working. I have been checking it every day to see if there were any letters from you since we hadn't heard anything in a couple of months.”

“I'm sorry I haven't been able to send you any money.”

My mother holds up her hand. “Paolo explained to us that you had been having a hard time lately.” She is about to say something else, but then glances at Paolo. “Paolo, I'm sorry, but can I have a moment alone with my daughter?”

“Of course. But we will have to board the ship soon. I've asked one of the crewmembers to allow us a few minutes to say good-bye.”

“It'll just be a minute.”

Paolo takes Carlotta and Enzo aside. I can't believe how much taller they both have gotten since I last saw them. I then realize I missed both of their birthdays. Enzo is now seven, and Carlotta is five. Paolo takes his wallet out and hands each of them a few liras. Once again, his kindness and generosity move me.

“Sarina. What happened to that other young man you told me about in your letters? The one who rescued you after Papá found you?”

I shake my head. “It's too long to explain now.”

“He broke your heart, didn't he?”

“No, Mama. I broke his. Please promise me if he ever comes to see you that you won't tell him I've married. I don't want him thinking that was the reason I left him.”

“But Sarina, do you love Paolo? Or are you doing this to get off the streets?”

“Paolo is a wonderful man. I care very much about him. I will have a good life with him. Don't worry about me, Mama.”

“My child. You've grown up so much these past few months. I wish I could tell you to come home with me. But we both know that's not possible. Not as long as your father is still breathing.”

“Sarina,” Paolo calls to me.

I look over to where he is standing and see one of the ship's crew imploring him to get on the ship.

Carlotta and Enzo come over to me.

“Write to us, Sarina, and we'll write to you. Tell us all about America. When I grow up, I'll come find you.” Enzo smiles.

I bend down and kiss him. “You are going to be such a strong man when you grow up. Take care of Mama, Carlotta, and Pietro.” I frown and look at my mother. “Where is Pietro?”

“I left him with Agata at Giuseppe's house.”

“Giuseppe?”

“Zio Mario caught them together at the end of the summer. They were just kissing behind the boulders on the beach. But Zio Mario did not care. Needless to say, Giuseppe proposed to Agata after Zio Mario caught them. They got married in September. Agata now lives next door to us with Giuseppe and his parents.”

I can't help but smile thinking about Agata and Giuseppe hiding behind the boulders, the same boulders where my father had chased me, thinking I was there to meet my lover.

“Is she happy?”

“She seems to be. They're trying to start a family.”

“Tell her I miss her and wish nothing but the best for her.”

“I will. She has told me how much she's missed you, too, since you left home.”

Carlotta cries as she walks over and hugs me.

“Don't cry, my beautiful little sister. Remember, when you see the stars at night, look for the brightest one and think about me. And I will also look for the brightest star I can see in the skies in America as I think about you. When you get sad, sing the song we always used to sing.”

“ ‘Stella Mia.' I still remember the words.”

“Good.” I kiss her on the forehead.

Carlotta pulls away.
“Sarai sempre con me.
You will always be with me.” She curls her small hand into a fist and taps her chest. I'm amazed by the maturity of her action.

Before I fall to pieces, I mimic her gesture and say,
“Vi sarà anche sempre con me.”

I then turn to my mother. We embrace one last time. She whispers, “Don't worry anymore about us. Your husband is your family now.”

“I love you, too, Sarina. Be happy.” She kisses me.

“Mama, if you say the word, I will leave with you and the children. I don't care about Papá.”

Mama takes my face in her hands. Tears are now in her eyes, too. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. And even if nothing were to happen, I can't let you return to that kind of life. There's nothing for you back home but constant abuse at your father's hands. When Carlotta and Enzo are old enough, I will encourage them to find a way to leave, too. The same for Pietro. Go, my sweet daughter.” Mama gives me one last hug before pulling away sharply. She gestures with her hand for me to go to Paolo.