The Scorpion's Tale (2 page)

Steven was alone on this Italian mountaintop,
relieved he was not home for a forced celebration he did not
desire. This day did not mark the twenty-eighth anniversary of his
birth so much as the twentieth anniversary of his father’s death.
His birthdays brought back the terrible memory of pestering his
mother to light his eight candles so he could make a wish, eat his
cake, and open his presents. Those childish desires were put on
hold until his father arrived late with the promise of a special
gift for him. Then, the officious knock on the door followed by his
mother’s unearthly scream that shattered his childhood innocence.
Steven could never forget that night. No longer would he smell his
father’s
English Leather
Cologne mixed with the bitter scent
of his father’s cigar. Nor would he see his father’s beaming smile,
which had been present at all of Steven’s childhood achievements,
from when he first learned to ride a bike to when he hit that game
winning single in Little League in the first grade.

Steven had struggled to put his loss into
words until a fateful day a decade earlier, when he purchased a
book that once contained the page he now held. Steven had been
dating Celeste, an NYU freshman and throwback from the Age of
Aquarius. This free loving blonde WASP, brought up in the
Westchester County Country Club scene, stood in stark contrast to
the staid Italian girls he was accustomed to dating from his middle
class neighborhood. Most nights, between their countless sexual
encounters stoned on marijuana, she would expound on philosophy,
and often mentioned Anais Nin.

An infatuated Steven sought a Nin book for
Valentine’s Day. His perseverance led him to a Greenwich Village
bookstore. Steven left the store with a bounce in his step and a
book of the author’s quotes to give to his Celeste at Valentine’s
dinner. Regrettably, Celeste broke their dinner engagement along
with a small piece of his heart, to have a private tutorial with a
professor she idolized. Steven flipped through the book in search
of a quote to tell off his ex-lover and accidentally stumbled upon
one that defined him. He too, was both fatherless and Godless.
Steven had his quote, and Celeste, the free-loving tramp, had her
“A,” thanks to an extra-credit performance.

After his final business meeting, Steven
traveled up the mountain to contemplate his upcoming fatherhood. He
stared in awe at the stark gray, snow-patched Matterhorn, framed by
fields of multi-colored flowers and silhouetted against an azure
sky. He shut his eyes, filled with both fear and wonder. He knew
that continuing his life cursing the fate that made him half orphan
would render his own child emotionally fatherless. He vowed to the
heavens that he would grasp life to its fullest and be happy. He
read the quote once more then let go of the tattered page, watching
as the wind swirled it away and with it, the darkness that had
enveloped him.

A harsh gust brought Steven back to reality
as he boarded the gondola’s final departure. At Laghi Cime Bianchi,
he transferred from the cable car to the gondola. At Plan Maison,
he took the last cable car to the base station. A young woman
hurried on as the doors closed behind her, smiling politely as she
removed her scarf and sunglasses. They were the only passengers.
The gondola pulled away and Steven found himself staring at her
until their eyes briefly met, causing her smile to fade before she
turned her attention to her book. A few minutes later he was
unexpectedly jolted by a loud, scraping sound. The gondola abruptly
stopped and swayed precariously, high above the ground. The woman
looked up with a concerned expression. They both sat in silence
until a voice came over the intercom. The woman looked at Steven
who shrugged his shoulders, indicating he did not understand. She
spoke into the intercom in fluent Italian and had a brief
conversation with the attendant. When she finished, she gazed
pensively into the distance while Steven wondered how long he
should wait before asking her for a status report. He was hoping
she spoke English.

She turned to him with a revived smile. The
setting sun cast an amber light on her face and he realized how
stunning she was. She had long, thick, auburn hair that framed her
high cheekbones, flawless skin and hypnotic green eyes.

“Are you American?” she asked with an Italian
accent in a voice so sensuous that he could hardly respond.

“Italian-American,” he stuttered.

“You don’t understand Italian?”

“No.”

“Shame on you,” she teased. “Italian is a
romance language. You should make an effort to embrace your
heritage.”

Steven blushed.

“There is something wrong with the motor,”
she continued. “It is going to take a while to fix. It will get
cold but there are blankets under our benches.”

Steven got down on his knees and started
pulling out blankets. He wrapped one around her shoulders, and as
his hand grazed her neck, he felt an electric shock. He took one
for himself before sitting down, this time closer to her.

“Grazie, that’s very kind of you,” she
said.

“It’s my pleasure. May I ask your name?”

“You may, but I won’t tell you,” she
teased.

Steven was intrigued. “That’s a strange
answer.”

She copied his impish grin. “I don’t want to
know your name and you don’t need to know mine. We will never see
each other again. If the gondola hadn’t stopped, we wouldn’t have
spoken at all.”

Steven appeared puzzled as he pondered her
logic.

“You may call me Sophia, like Sophia Loren,”
she continued.

“Then call me Tom, as in Cruise,” Steven
said, enjoying the banter.

“What shall we do now Tom?”

“I guess we wait to be saved.”

“Do you have fantasies?” she asked.

“You mean like sexual fantasies?”

Sophia looked disappointed. “I’m not talking
about sex. Why is everything always about sex with you
Americans?”

“I think Italian minds would have the same
visuals as we Americans.”

“Well, my Italian-American, I’m not talking
about sex. I’m talking about meeting a stranger you will never see
again. Do you believe in fate, Tom?”

“No.”

“Don’t you have a desire to tell me your
deepest, darkest secrets? I will keep your secret for eternity. Our
souls can be intimate without any fear of being judged, and you
never know where such intimacy may lead!”

Steven felt a burning excitement he had never
experienced before. “Do you always strike up conversations like
this with strangers?”

She grinned. “No, only when I’m stranded on a
gondola with a handsome stranger and only the stars will witness
our conversation.”

“I must admit, this is getting interesting.
You first.”

“I will. But when it’s your turn, you must
promise to honor your word.”

He heard her breath come stronger. A game, he
thought. Why did women always play games? “Fine. After you.”

“Promise,” Sophia demanded, as she crossed
her long legs revealing more thigh.

Steven grinned as he admired the shapeliness
of her legs. “I promise.”

“I believe I have offended certain people in
my village. My cousin and I have been lovers for some time. He is a
distant cousin but it has caused us great embarrassment with the
elders and has put a tremendous strain on my relationship with my
brother.”

“Why?” Steven asked, suddenly interested. His
mind was re-directed from her legs to her story.

“My brother is my cousin’s best friend. He
has demanded that we stop seeing each other. But my cousin has
asked me to marry him. There are people who are quite concerned
that we will marry.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

“I want to, but I cannot. It would embarrass
my family. Where I come from, romantic love between cousins is a
sin.”

“It appears you’ve made your decision. So
what’s the problem?”

She looked away with a painful expression.
“My cousin is the only man who understands me. You see, I have
difficulty in maintaining relationships with men.”

“That’s hard to believe. You’re incredibly
beautiful.”

Sophia smiled a sad smile at his compliment.
“Physical beauty is meaningless. I am independent and independence
can be threatening to a man. Men want to take care of their women
and they want their women to depend upon them.”

“I think men admire self-reliant women,”
Steven said, believing it was what she wanted to hear.

“I want a man who will sweep me away with his
confidence and not be afraid of my independence. I want him to find
my strength erotic.”

“That’s reasonable,” Steve stammered, not
really knowing what to say.

“What about you, Tom? Undress your soul for
me.”

Steven hesitated, but to his surprise, only
for a second. “My fiancée is pregnant.”

“Are you ready to be a father?” she
asked.

Steven sighed. “That is the $64,000
question!”

“Are you worried?”

“Yes. I’m worried I won’t be able to provide
for my family. It’s a fear all men have.”

“That’s not true,” she said, shaking her
head. “Only good men worry. Bad men care only about themselves.”
She stared at him. Her eyes burned as she seemed to look right into
his soul. Their eyes met and held.

She blinked first. “But there’s more, isn’t
there, Tom? Show me the real you.”

Against his nature, Steven felt compelled to
open up to this strange beauty. “My father died when I was young. I
still carry that anger. I have no idea what it’s like to be a
father. I had no role model and fear my inadequacy as a
parent.”

“What else are you afraid of Tom?”

“I’m afraid I cannot be faithful to one woman
for the rest of my life. I don’t want to be a hypocrite to my wife
and child.”

“Are we talking about sex again?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever been unfaithful to her?”

“No.”

“Then why are you worried?”

“Because I’m fantasizing about you at this
very moment.”

She blushed. “And I about you, Tom. Is this
something you need to discover about yourself? Do you need to know
if you can make love to a total stranger yet remain in love with
your fiancée?”

He looked at the ground and said nothing.

She stood up and looked out the window.
Steven couldn’t take his eyes off the curve of her lower back. The
sun had set below the mountains and the last bursts of color
painted the sky. The temperature was falling rapidly. Steven was
starting to shiver and didn’t know if the cause was the temperature
drop or what was about to occur. Sophia stood and began spreading
blankets on the floor.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“We shared our souls. If we are going to
survive we now need to share our heat.”

Steven was awestruck as Sophia slowly removed
her sweater, blouse, and jeans, and stood before him in a black
lace bra and bikini panties, her nipples protruding, hard from the
cold. She grinned, amused by the dumbfounded expression on his
face. “Body heat is not very effective when you’re clothed,” she
chided. “Undress for me.”

As she reached for another blanket, she
accidentally knocked over her purse. Steven reached down and
retrieved it, along with a few items that had spilled out. He
glanced down at a business card he was holding.

“ ‘Gia’s Pride Imports’? Is that your
business?”

“No. That is my cousin’s,” she said,
matter-of-factly, as she sat down on the blankets. She lay down on
the floor and removed her bra. Steven felt he was dreaming. He
wanted her more than anything.

She extended her hand toward him. “Come join
me under the blankets.”

Steven sheepishly removed his shirt and
pants. He lay down beside her and she moved close to him as they
flung the blankets over themselves. She smelled wonderful. She
reached over and held him, her breasts pressing against his
chest.

“Now we can fulfill the rest of our
fantasies,” she said. “Make love to me as though it was our last
day on earth together.”

Steven kissed her hard and they both removed
the remainder of their clothing. The temperature dropped
twenty-five degrees over the next two hours but neither noticed.
They were warm, comfortable, and eventually sound asleep in each
other’s arms.

---------------

They awoke to a shrill voice over the
intercom.

“The problem has been fixed,” she
translated.

They quickly dressed and sat huddled together
on the bench beneath several blankets.

“You’re very quiet, Tom.”

“I feel very guilty about what just happened
between us.”

She leaned toward him and whispered in his
ear: “se non ti crei il tuo destino, aurai sempre il fato
contro.”

“What does that mean?”

“If you do not create your destiny, you will
have your fate inflicted upon you.”

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“We made love and it was beautiful. You don’t
need to fantasize anymore. Go back home, get married, and be a good
husband. Live a good life.”

They both sat quietly for the rest of the
descent.

When they disembarked, Sophia offered Steven
a ride to his hotel. The drive back was surprisingly comfortable.
They spoke of the mundane to the extraordinary; from their favorite
songs to the meaning of life. By journey’s end, Steven felt
intimately close to her. For the first time he wore no mask
disguising his true self. She put the car in park but did not turn
off the engine.

She lightly touched his hand and kissed him
on the cheek. “We were both in the right place at the right time,
and it was magical. In another time and another place I know I
would have fallen in love with you. Goodbye.”

He kissed her hand and got out of the car. He
stood motionless, his breath turning to smoke in the crisp night
air, as he watched her drive away and disappear. He was ecstatic
that he’d met her and saddened by the realization he would never
see her again. He was grateful that he didn’t know her name since
his initial lust for her had transformed into a deeper affection.
The thought made him smile and for the first time in a long time,
he felt good about himself. He thought of Amanda and looked forward
to their future together, not knowing how short it would be.