When the Night (15 page)

He smiles again, and I blush.

“Did you talk, when you were there? I mean, did she explain …”

“How she was able to leave her three children, go away, and have three more children?”

I nod.

“She and her husband invited me over for lunch. She cooked a potato pie. Albert always asks Bianca to make it for him, and now I know why. He is the eldest, so he remembers her. To me it was just a potato pie, and not a particularly good one. The resemblance between my sister’s child and Manfred’s son was incredible, but so was my resemblance to my mother. A complete stranger who looks just like you. It occurred to me that it must be the same when adopted children meet their biological parents.”

He takes a sip of wine. I can feel Manfred staring at me before I turn around. I turn quickly and meet his hard gaze. My heart beats fast and I lower my eyes.

Don’t do that, you fool, he’ll think you’re afraid of him.

I look up again, but he has already turned around. Stefan is talking. I’ve missed the first part.

“… they left us alone together, my mother and me, two complete strangers. She embraced me, and I pulled away. She was crying, but I wasn’t very affected. I felt sorry for her because she was old. She started to say, ‘I was wrong to leave you,’ and other nonsense. I stopped her.”

I feel uncomfortable, as if I were standing above a burning triangle. The father is staring at me; he has stopped talking to his granddaughter and listens. I’d like to make Stefan stop.

Luckily, the orchestra begins to play. The musicians have been drinking, so they play with enthusiasm. I can barely hear Stefan.

“Before I left, she said, ‘Ask your father why I did it.’ ”

“Did you ask him?”

“Yes, not long ago. He said, ‘I have no idea what she’s talking about.’ ”

He smiles and says, almost yelling: “It’s better, don’t you think? Imagine if there were really a reason!”

THERE’S A NEW woman around, and Stefan is trying to impress her. Even though she’s my tenant and I saved her son, and I should be the one to decide first whether I want her or not. He can’t help it. It’s stronger than he is. And she’s willing. My brother is handsome, young, and she’s ready to go. I should have sat at their table, that way I could have stopped him with a look. That’s what she expected, and that’s why I didn’t do it.

When we crossed paths in the afternoon, I barely said hello. Marco was happy to see me.

“You want to touch the ice axe? Come here.”

I barely even glanced at her. I took the tourists to the via ferrata. And now, in the dining room, I did my best not to cross her path. I didn’t want to sit at the table with her and my brothers and my father. I decided that I would talk to her after dinner. I hadn’t taken Stefan into account. She’s sitting between him and my father. I’m not happy. She wants to become friendly with them, but tonight she’s going back to town, and then we’ll be alone together once again, won’t we, Marina?

These four tourists only talk about food; then they eat, and talk about food some more. They exchange restaurant addresses. As soon as we’re done with dinner, I’ll move to the other table.

Albert and I haven’t spoken, but that’s OK. We’ve never spoken much. He thinks I see things that aren’t there, that I create problems where there are none, I argue with everyone. He hasn’t forgiven me for driving Luna away. When I told him she was gone, he said, “That was your only chance. You won’t find another one.”

It’s good to have brothers.

Stefan talks and talks. What is he saying to her? The rage begins to rise again. Maybe Albert is right; I should go to the doctor and take pills. That woman irritates me; I know her like the back of my hand. Bianca doesn’t get it.

“She’s straightforward, and scared.”

It’s all a ruse. After I left her on the mountain, she came in as if nothing had happened. She’s a good actress, but her act doesn’t fool me. I know everything about her. She has a
weak husband and she pretends to be a good mother, but she was born for something else, to make men look at her, to wear makeup and pretend to be young forever. The baby stays close to her, and she says how wonderful, his soft hands, his mouth on her neck, her breath, her shoulder. And then when you least expect it, you’re dead.

STEFAN ASKS ME to dance. I’ve turned him down several times already. I don’t want to be distracted from Marco, and I don’t want Manfred to see us dancing. But he insists, and his father encourages me.

“He’s a great dancer; he has even won prizes. The others are good on skis, but he’s good on the dance floor.”

He doesn’t move his chest, his feet are light, his arms are strong, his hand on my back is delicate. He holds me close. He doesn’t stop staring at me. My face is red, not because of him, but because of his brother. He has moved his chair away from the table, like the others, to watch the dancers in the middle of the room. Stefan leads me in that direction, on purpose. I don’t dare look over, and in any case my head is spinning.

I can feel a torrent of hatred coming from that direction; it comes in waves every time we pass by. I know men like you, Manfred: vindictive, angry at life. You have one mission: to watch, study, know, predict.

Now I see Marco; he has climbed off his chair and is making his way through the crowd. I stop Stefan and break out of his embrace. “I’m sorry, the baby is looking for me.”

I don’t wait for his answer. I cross the room. Bodies twist
and turn around me and I can no longer see him. Maybe he went toward the door, maybe he went outside when no one was looking. I shouldn’t have left him alone to dance around like a fool.

There he is. Manfred has stopped him and picked him up, put him on his lap and claps his hands to the music. He smiles at me as I walk over. Go ahead, take him.

Go ahead, Marina, don’t be afraid. I speak loudly so he’ll hear me over the music.

“Darling, are you tired? Are you tired?”

Manfred answers loudly, pretending to be jolly: “We’re not tired! We’re having fun watching Mamma dance, aren’t we? She dances well, doesn’t she, Marco? Like a young girl, and my brother knows what he’s doing.”

I don’t look away from his pale, impertinent eyes. The baby looks at him and then at me.

“Do you dance?”

“No, unfortunately I don’t know how to dance, or sing, or do lots of other nice things.”

“I’m sorry to hear it! Dancing is such fun.”

“Yet another thing I’ll never experience in life! My mother never taught me how, did she, Marco?”

“How could she? She was gone.”

I say it without thinking. It just pops out. The irony in his eyes disappears. Now he looks at me the way he did that day, when he kicked me in the kitchen.

“Who told you?”

“Your brother. She left when you were young, didn’t she?” And now she lives in America.

Only you know other people’s secrets, isn’t that right, Manfred?

Damn that Stefan. All he does is talk, talk; he has no pride. Albert is right; he was always crying, even as a little boy.

“It must have been hard growing up here without your mother, on your own, and never seeing her again.”

I reach out for Marco.

“Come on, darling, Manfred has other things to do.”

He puts his arms around my neck.

“What time do you think we’ll go into town?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters. “Ask Albert.”

“It doesn’t matter. If he’s tired, he can sleep in the car.”

I pretend to leave, and he grabs my arm tightly.

“We were just fine without her, you know.”

That’s your problem, you stupid little orphan. I haven’t yet met the man who can trick me. I smile sweetly, gently, maternally, and pull away from his grasp.

“Especially you,” I say.

“Why?”

“Stefan is not wanting for female company, as you say. He likes women, but at the same time he depends on them. And Albert, well, Bianca means a lot to him. But you are a free man. You don’t need a woman, do you?”

Where are you trying to lead me? What do you want from me?

“If I need a woman, I’ll find one.”

“I don’t doubt it. Does one of you wear glasses?”

“I do … I wear contact lenses. Why do you ask?”

He’s the one!

“On the wall of the room where I’ve been sleeping there’s a faded drawing of a little boy with glasses and skis. His mouth is open, and he looks sad. It touched me.”

That damned drawing! I had forgotten about it.

“I never would have imagined you could be the author of that drawing.”

“Why not?”

“The glasses. And the boy in the drawing is so sad, but you’re strong.”

“I made myself strong.”

“It must have been very hard for you. I’ll see you later, then.”

She turns around and leaves. I don’t say a word. I’d like to throttle her.

WHEN PEOPLE DANCE around you, they bump into you, and step on your toes; you don’t exist for them. Stefan is talking and laughing with a woman; all he wants is company for the night. I walk up to him.

“Stefan.”

He smiles. He’s been drinking. “Manfred, how are you? The lady was just asking me if this is a good place for a person who doesn’t know how to ski. I told her that there are great ski instructors here, don’t you agree?”

The woman laughs.

“Stefan, could you come here a minute? I need to talk to you.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I lead him to the entrance, then to the veranda where we used to keep our sleds, wet shoes, and ice axes.

“Where are we going?”

I turn around to face him, filled with rage. Albert is right, everything is his fault.

“Why do you go around telling people about our lives?”

“What? What did I say?”

“You’ll say anything to get a woman in bed. You’ll even tell her that our mother abandoned us, just so she’ll feel sorry for us!”

He laughs. “Oh, your tenant. Manfred, come on. Everybody knows!”

“Everybody! Soon they’ll print it in the local guidebooks … No one gives a damn about our story, Stefan, it’s our business.”

“So why are you angry?”

“I have some pride. Do you know what that is? I doubt it. Even when you were little, you were a complainer: I want Mamma, where is Mamma, when will she be back? Every day, over and over, until I threatened you, and Albert beat you up.”

He stares at me without smiling. “Yes, I remember Albert’s methods. And yours as well, like when you used to put my shoes outside so I had to go out in the snow in my bare feet. And then the two of you would laugh.”

“I guess it didn’t toughen you up much.”

I’ve never seen Stefan like this. He never gets angry, and enjoys exasperating other people with his smile. Now he stares at me with hatred.

“You know, Manfred, I think Albert and Dad are right. I tried to defend you, but the truth is, you’re sick, Manfred, and Luna was right to take the kids away. You would have made them like you.”

I hit him in the face. Blood starts to pour out of his nose. He swings at me, but I dodge his fist. Now he’s on top of me, and we’re fighting on the ground like when we were kids, behind the house so our father couldn’t see us. Now I can see his face looking out, incredulously, from the veranda, in silence. He watches us roll around.

Then Albert arrives and gets between us, separates us.

“What are you doing? There are people here! Do you want everyone to see you?”

We’ve regressed to twenty years ago, the fights we used to have to conceal our shame, everything hidden from the others. No one must know.

Albert opens the front door and pushes me into the night. He follows me. Behind him are Stefan and our father. They watch from the door. I’m alone outside, and the others watch from in front of the house. Albert takes three steps toward me and begins to yell, over the music from the dining room.

“You want to ruin everything, Manfred! Destroy yourself if you want, but leave us alone!”

I throw myself against him with all the force of my rage, a rage only I still feel. Albert doesn’t back down; he strikes me coldly, between the cheek and eye, powerfully. When I get up, everything is a fog: his face, the house, Stefan and our father standing behind him. I’ve lost my contact lenses. I can hear my mother’s voice: “Leave Manfred alone! You’ll break his glasses!”

I used to take them off when I got into fights. But I always lost.

I can’t breathe, but I can feel my heart hammering inside my chest. Albert comes close; he’s not afraid, I can’t hit him now.

“Get out of here, Manfred. I don’t want to see you. Take your customers wherever you like, but don’t bring them here. Forget this place.”

Our father says nothing. Albert is in charge now.

I
T’S DARK. THE baby is asleep in my arms and I find the keys in the umbrella stand. The house smells stuffy. The place is a mess. I empty the bathtub and put away Marco’s toys, folded clothes, washed dishes, and silverware. Tomorrow the lady from the agency will come and clean.

Marco was already asleep when we climbed into the jeep. Too bad; he loves cars and motors and would have enjoyed the steep descent over the rocks.

Manfred did not return with us.