Lizzi Bizzi and the Red Witch

by Stefano Pastor

  I had never considered it from that perspective. Besides, it was the first time my father did not considered me a child. So I found the courage to question him. «Luce doesn’t?», I asked him.

  He remained quiet for more than a minute, to the point where I came to wonder if I had dreamed that moment of confidingness between us. Then Dad sighed. «No, not Luce. Your sister is not like you; she is a fragile and insecure girl. He needs all our help. Her life is not easy».

  Remembering Vito’s words, I came to ask him, «Is she sick?».

  Again his reply took some time. «Yes, you could say so. Luce is sick. She has a chronic illness, which does not give you a respite. From which you cannot heal. She needs all our affection».

  «What sickness?».

  He shook her head. «Try to be kind to her, don’t torment her. She needs all our help, even yours».

  That Luce needed me was very questionable.

  For her I did not existed, she had never cared about me. I had the same usefulness as a coat hanger, maybe even less. But I did not think it was time to talk about it.

  While I tried to think of something to discover something new, my father started to talk. «We wished for a son so much, you know, we have told you. We had been married for ten years already, but the misfortune hunted us. Your mother could not get pregnancy to term. We had lost for already, poor creatures».

  Yes, I had already heard that story, but long time before and it laid buried in the back of my mind. I did not interrupted him and let him continue.

  «Your mother was always in church, praying to the Virgin. We went to Borghetto, to the Sanctuary of Santa Maria of the Sorrows where she had appeared, but it did not worked. We visited all the sanctuaries of the island. We also talked about making a pilgrimage to Lourdes. You know me, Pina; I’m a practical guy. Some things are not for me, but for her love I would have also do it».

  «Did you go?».

  «It was not necessary. Your mother discovered she was pregnant. This did not change anything, o f course, as long as the child was not born, he would still be in danger. In fact, after the first months things started to go wrong, your mother did not get up from bed anymore, but the pains were very strong and had some losses. The doctors were convinced that she would not be able to finish pregnancy. Your mother… well, she could not accept it».

  «And then what did you do? Because we are talking about Luce, right? At the end she was born».

  «She went to the convent».

  I was anxious for a moment, trying to remember what he was talking about.

  «It was crazy on her condition; doctors have forbidden her to move. But she insisted it was a sacrifice, that she did it for the Virgin. She could not refuse to accept his supplications if she had suffered enough».

  «A madness», I repeated, and then realized I was blasphemous, but my dad did not pay attention.

  «We went by ourselves, she and me; she did not want anyone else to join us. We arrived at the convent as two pilgrims, and there… there the child was born. We stayed for a long time, until your mother recovered, and when we returned to the country, Luce was with us. They all talked about a miracle».

  «What convent? What convent are we talking about?».

  Another sigh. «The convent of Nostra Signora della Luce. That’s were her name comes from, that is why we called her Luce».

  I had already heard him name it, but always evaded it. I only know it was located somewhere between the mountains. «Why are you telling me these things? What do they have to do with what is happening right now?».

  Again he became reticent. «To make you understand how important it is to us, how much we wanted her, how much we were willing to sacrifice for her. You…». He paused for a moment, searching for words. «With you it was different, we did not expect it. It was a normal pregnancy, when we did not expect it anymore. Your mother did not suffer to bring you in the world».

  Would that be a justification? I was horrified by my father’s words. Even he realized that he had used the wrong terms, but there was little to be remedied. «Pina…», he whispered, but in a low voice, and I was already out of the room.

  That was the last time I saw him. Dad died there, on that couch. His tired heart by the last events did not resist, they said he didn’t feel anything, that he only fell sleep to not wake up anymore, but I don’t know how much of that was true. After all, I was just the little girl, and some things are not told to little girls. Mom found him, first thing in the morning, when she got worried about him not having gone to bed.

  I remember little about the confusion that followed, all those strangers at home, and above all, in a moment like that, with Luce locked in her room. Ignazio and his sons came to show condolences, but Vito did not show himself.

  The funeral was different, though. Luce was forced to go. They all said it loudly, that it would be unsuitable for her not to take part. Whatever she had done, Rocco was still her father, and a broken heart did not justify such an absence.

  It was terrible. Luce always remained apart from us, surrounded by mom and her sisters. They did not allow anyone come close to her, not even me, not even talk to her. Aside that, there was not much to see, they had covered her with a thick veil, black as her dressed, that left little to see.

  The whole country came, even Vito, because he was forced. I, forgotten by everyone, did my best to set next to him. Vito smiled at me and gave me his condolences, considering my presence at his side positive, certainly less demanding than many others.

  I should have suffered but I could not. There had never been much love between me and Dad; respect, rigor, sometimes even a grin of understanding, but not love. I also saw it now, even on such a tragic occasion, my mother had forgotten my presence, for her only Luce counted.

  Vito never separated her eyes from her and I looked into his eyes trying to to find any feeling. But it seemed cold, loaded with angry anger. When we got to the cemetery door and he saw her coming in, he stopped. I, who had always stood by him, was uncomfortable. I took him by the arm, trying to pull him. He murmured something strange, which at the moment I could not understand. «But how did you get in here?», he said.

  It was my father who was being buried, I had to come. I begged Vito with my eyes, but he shook his head. Then I was forced to leave him and reach out to my relatives, but I kept turning to look for him. He stayed there for a long time, standing still and standing outside the cemetery gates, until I turned for the last time and he had disappeared, he had left.

  If I had thought that Daddy’s death would have changed something I had to rethink: things were only getting worse. I often went home and discovered that the table was not even set, so I was forced cook for myself. Nobody did any more to do the shopping, and I had to do that too. Until I spoke with Aunt Tonina, I explained her the situation and she was very understanding, she came to see us more and more often, bringing food and cooking for us.

  Mom was being strange, she didn’t suffer, as she should have, she didn’t cry for dad, although I knew well how much they loved each other, and found incredible that Luce could also do this, nullify pain.

  I always accused her of everything, but in reality Luce didn’t do absolutely nothing, she remained locked in her room, to the point that I started to wonder if she at least came out to the bathroom or had arrived to the point of using the pitale. Mom didn’t even allow Aunt Tonina to enter her room to talk to her.

  «She is my sister», I said to her, one day. «Or does it bother you that I am?».

  And mom: «Stop Pina, don’t be childish. These are things you can’t understand».

  God, I would have liked to slap her so much. It was because of her beloved Luce that dad had died, for the troubles she had caused him. I did nothing, absolutely nothing. I stop talking, since it was useless to continue.

  In that period I changed. I stopped being a little girl. Perhaps it was not a conscious decision, but it happened little by little. I discovered the lipstick, just a littl
e on my lips. I wore my pants for the first time, out of the house, and I made the decision to pierce my ears. It was painful just as I had feared, but in the end it was worth it.

  «You need to let your hair grow longer», said a friend o mine, as we contemplated our reflects on a showcase. My earrings were charming and for the occasion I had worn a chain. At that time, not even she said I was too young, a little girl.

  Later I saw him, because it was inevitable and he had stopped hiding. He was standing apart, not going out with any girl, but slowly Vito was coming to normal. Certainly Luce’s voluntary confinement made it easier.

  At first we exchanged a few words, banal and innocuous. Then we met again, and again. I never named Light. Then one day I asked him to go out together. Nothing special, just go see a movie that liked both. I was fearful, doubly timid: that he did not care about me and remembered the unpleasant moments of his life. And I should also add that I was afraid he would no longer wanted to have anything to do with no one of our family.

  Nevertheless, he accepted and found inappropriate that was me who invited him. It was unfortunate that I had been inviting him. It was an American movie, obviously, in which everyone lived better than us and they were happier. We got to the bottom of the room, because he also ran away from the crowd. I soon realized that around us there were only couples looking for intimacy, but I was not embarrassed at all. After the movie had advanced, and I found out that he would not do anything, and had the same interest for me he would have for a zucchini, I took his hand and caress it.

  He turned to look at me but remained motionless.

  «You don’t like me?», I asked him. «Do you consider me a little girl?».

  He did not answer.

  «Ok, it is because of Luce, right? It is always Luce, you don’t think of anyone else».

  He retreated his hand. «It’s not what you think».

  I had exposed myself, I had finally dared and it had been useless. I was furious. And on top of that, he kept acting mysterious. «What does she has that I don’t have».

  He lowered his head. «Nothing, nothing».

  «So what is the problem?».

  «There is no problem», he said. Then he corrected: «It’s me, its not you. It’s a problem of mine».

  I did not believe a bit. «She is beautiful, isn’t she? As beautiful as I can ever be. I can’t compare».

  He tried to smile. «No, you’re wrong. You’re better. You are… alive».

  Maybe he wanted it to be a compliment, but it was not enough. «What happened that night, Vito? What have you done? Why did you break up?».

  Silence again.

  «Luce told me you made love. Is it true? Did you make love to her?».

  His reaction was unbelievable. He retracted, and then stood up. «Sorry», he murmured. He made his way to the exit and disappeared over the velvet curtains. I kept my mouth open, once again, incapable of understanding, more than ever.

  3

  He had planted me there and I felt like dying from embarrassment. Luckily the couples around us were too busy cuddling and no one had noticed what had happened. Then I gathered my courage and walked to him, trying to show off a bit of dignity.

  There was nobody in the movie theater lobby and I was disappointed. I still could not believe he had planted me there. Then I heard an unmistakable noise, not far away. I turned and saw the bathroom doors. Someone was vomiting and the noise came decisively from the men’s bath.

  I would never have expected to do such a thing, yet in that situation I did not miss a single instant and I went in there. I made a pause by the door, uncertain, because it was very different from the ladies’ bathroom, and as I had never seen it, I did not immediately understand what strange gadgets hung on the wall. Then another vomiting controversy came near me, and I saw his shoes. Vito was kneeling by the toilet, with his head on the cup, and was vomiting. He had not even closed the door.

  I couldn’t get a word. What did he mean? What could justify a reaction of that kind? I should have felt sorry for him; at the bottom I loved him madly, but in that moment, seeing him so vulnerable, I just got angrier and started to rage. «Did you make love then? And was it so disgusting? What was wrong with my sister?».

  He tried to recover, without looking at me. «Go outside Pina, you can’t stay here».

  «I want to know what happened! I will not move a single step until you tell me». Then I tried to calm myself down, to reason. «She is sick right? She has some ugly sickness. Something that disgusted you».

  He kept turning his back at me.

  «And you abandoned her? That was all your love? She was not perfect and you threw her away!».

  «Nothing could happen between us».

  «Why? And yet you made love with her? Did you do it? You made love with her!».

  He turned back, also raging. «Yes, I did! We did!».

  «And it was horrible?».

  He lowered his head. «She was different… No, it was not. It was not horrible at all».

  «Then tell me, what is wrong! Tell me what happened!».

  He looked at me for a while, straight to the eyes. «You don’t know it? You live with her and you don’t know it? How come you don’t know it?».

  Discomfort grew even more. «What? I’m begging you, tell me, what?».

  «She is dead!», Victor yelled. «Your sister is dead! Her heart doesn’t beat and she doesn’t breath!».

  I remained open mouth, then the instinctive reaction was relief, and I was already ready to deride it. But he continued. «She was cold, frozen, I could not warm her up. I clutched her in my arms, but I could not hear anything. I put my ear on her chest, and then I looked at her. She did not breathe, Pina, she did not need to breathe! There was not a heart inside of her; she was empty, there was nothing!».

  My smile faded. «It is not possible», I murmured, more for obligation than for something else. Dead? What did he mean by dead? She was cold, yes, her heart… maybe she had heart problems, which was her illness. As for not breathing, that was just an absurdity.

  «She was dead, Pina. I wouldn’t tell you that if it wasn’t true. Your sister is dead; she is just a walking corpse».

  I lost it because he and his words annoyed me, even though I never thought it could happen. «There must be an explanation», I said. But a few minutes later, standing in front of Dracula’s poster, I tried to smile. My sister was a… Vampire? What nonsense!

  Vito had recovered and was next to me. He barely touched my arm. «Should we go back inside?», he asked me.

  Go back to the movie? After what he had just say? To sit in the dark, next to each other? I shook my head.

  «We can go have an ice cream», Vito proposed.

  But we did not go, he took me home and there was no dialogue between us, the name of Luce was no longer pronounced. I needed so much to know, but my house seemed dead, immersed dark. The kitchen, pretty as Aunt Tonina had left it, nobody had dined. Luce’s door was closed and I stood there for a minute, undecided about what to do. There was no noise from the inside, no whisper, but I knew that Mom was there.

  I went to sleep. I tried, at least.

  I could not go on like that, Vito’s accusations were terrible, I could not ignore them. But the opportunity never came: Mom seemed barricaded in Luce’s bedroom, if she ever came out of it, she did it only when she was sure I was not in the house. I put an ear on the door several times, and eventually heard a few words. They were not talking, no, it was not a speech. They were prayers: there in that dark room, my mother and my sister recited the rosary, incessantly.

  Zia Tonina had understood it. One day she told me my mother had changed, that she needed help, from a doctor. But she would never do anything and I was even more unable to help her. So I asked her to do me a favor, to keep her occupied while I talked to Luce. I saw a strange expression on her face, then even the shadow of a smile. «I think so», she said.

  It was not easy anyway. We tried, more than once, but my moth
er seemed to sense something, she did not want to leave Luce alone for any reason. So one day I pretended to leave the house, and entered on my tiptoes through the secondary door, I heard them talk for long, Mom and Aunt Tonina, then the miracle took place and she followed her into the kitchen. I did not miss a single instant and ran up the stairs.

  Luce was in her room, right in front of the shutters still sealed in an attempt to look out. She took my entrance with unattractiveness, showing once again how little my presence counted for her. «Ah, Pina.», she said.

  There were questions I could not do to her. I did not have time to do it either. And also she would have denied it and I would have feel stupid. So I reached to her and grabbed her by her arms. She jumped. She was cold, freezing. It was such a cold that when was transmitted to my hands, made me shiver.

  You understand, eh. «It’s the sun», she said. «When I’m under the sun is not like that. It’s too dark here».

  It was not enough as an explanation. I put her hand on her chest. She drawback. «What are you doing?».

  «I want to hear your heart beat».

  I stretched out my hand again, but she blocked me. «Don’t do it, leave it!».

  «So it is true, you’re dead!».

  She looked away. «Did you talk to Vito? Did he say that to you? He believes it; he is convinced that it is like that».

  «But it is not true? You’re not dead?».

  She got angry and backed up. «Do I look dead to you?».

  Her answers were ambiguous, as usual. «I don’t know, you should tell me. That is why I am asking you».

  Luce sighed. «No, I am not dead! It is Vito who is determined, with all of those horror films he watches. He only thinks of that».

  «So what are you?».

  She looked at me raging, as if I had insulted her, and in fact I that was what I had just did. «It doesn’t count for anything that I am your sister?».

  Until now I had not counted and she knew it well. «Give me your wrist. I want to feel the pulse».

  «Stop it!», she cried, retreating again. Then she realized she had spoke too loudly and lowered her voice. «Mom doesn’t not want me to talk to you about these things».