Giuseppe took his friend to 119 MacDougald Street, to the Caffè Reggio, a nice bar with old-fashioned wrought iron tables arranged on the sidewalk.
The customers were having breakfast in between laughters and chatter. In the walls, there were several vintage photos of Reggio Calabria hanging: the Aragonese castle, the promenade Falcomatà, the little house of the gelateria Cesare.
Giuseppe approached a more recent photo depicting the Strait of Messina: the snowy Etna stood silhouetted on the horizon and, as placid as a gentle giant, it seemed to watch over the houses, the mountains, the people, the boats and the sea. It seemed that God Himself had entrusted it with the task. Every now and then it got angry and sent smoke into the sky and fiery lava towards the ground. It was a warning to the people: «Be careful not to exceed the limits, look at what I can do! This land has been blessed by God, but if you exaggerate God, by my hand, will destroy it. »
Giuseppe ran his hand gently over the photo, sighing. The memory of the beauty of his land struck him in the heart.
Sidney meanwhile had approached the counter and asked for the owner.
A short man, with dark hair and black eyes, in his forties, with brown pants and brown shirt arrived.
Sidney talked to him in Reggio-Calabrian dialect, but from the man’s troubled face, he realized that he was not even Italian.
The man told him that the bar had been actually founded by an emigrant from Reggio Calabria about seventy years earlier, but he was only the third owner and, as it had been done by his predecessor, from whom he had bought, he had chosen to keep the name and the original furniture.
Sidney ordered two cappuccinos to go and, together with Giuseppe, walked to the university.
At least a hundred students crowded the classroom. The background chatter stopped as soon as the professor entered. «Hello everyone. A dear childhood friend came to see me from Reggio Calabria, so he will be present in today’s class. »
Sidney raised his hand in a sign of a greeting and a chorus of «Welcome» rose into the air.
The two men sat behind a large desk. Giuseppe pulled a ceramic cup out of his backpack and poured a cappuccino. He got up and walked toward his students. And he continued to pour cappuccino to the brim.
He turned his back to the students and Sidney stared for a moment, then he turned to face the class and said in a soft voice:
"Imagine that this cup is our life and the cappuccino is the time. Before adding the future to your life, make sure it is not already full of the past, empty it of yesterday and fill it of today and tomorrow, otherwise ... "and continued to pour the cappuccino until it dropped to the ground and stained the floor.
Then he cleared his throat with a cough and continued his lesson:
"This for you is a very normal cup with Pluto dressed as a peasant. In the drawing he looks a wild bull that tells him <
I wonder how many of you have laughed at me because, every morning, I use this juvenile mug for my cappuccino. This is because for you this cup is only an object.
For me, on the other hand, it is much more. My father gave it to me shortly before he died. For me it is not an object, but the memory of the last hug I gave to my father. I love this mug.
The Giuseppe’s stare was lost into space for a moment. He finished drinking his cappuccino and opened his hands.
The cup fell to the floor, shattering instantly into thousands of little pieces.
The students gasped, a blonde girl in the second row wept, they heard words of regret, disapproval and profanity.
Giuseppe had to struggle to calm them down. "My dear students, if I had dropped this cup yesterday there would only be big laughs and teasing, and look now, you have sad and angry faces. You are heartbroken. Do you know why is that? Because my cup was no longer a simple object even for you. I gave sentimental value to this object, a human face. It has become the little picture of your grandmother, or your mother’s favorite crystal glass. My memory has become your memory. My pain was associated to yours. "
A short dark-eyed guy with frizzy hair raised his hand. «You broke a fond memory of your father just to make us understand a concept? »
The professor replied in a calm tone:
«During my study trip to Nepal, a few years ago, an old man offered me shelter for one night. His house was bare, there were very few objects.
He took a candle, he lit it and we warmed until the fire consumed it. Then he took a bowl full of water. He asked if I was thirsty, but I said no. He took a sip of water and threw the cup against the wall, smashing it to smithereens. And he said to me: << You have seen the fragility of the candle and you have enjoyed every moment before it was consumed. You saw the hard cup and preferred to decline, but it all ends. Do not be sad for the cup that was broken, but for the water you didn’t drink when the cup was full >> »
Giuseppe recovered his breath and added:
«I’m not sad for my father’s cup that I just broke, because I always used it, every moment with it was precious. » He turned towards Sidney and said aloud:
«Multiply this concept a million times for the people you love. Spend more time with them. Someone might one day take them away from you. »
When they went back home, Sidney scolded his friend in a mocking tone:
«Beautiful lesson, shame that the cup that your father gave you has a snake hissing << Forza Inter >> and it is in perfect shape in your kitchen cupboard. Besides, you have never been to Nepal. »
Then he hugged and teased him:
«You're a bluff! »
Giuseppe extended his ears with his hands. «Look who's talking. When we were kids and we played Pro evolution soccer, you used a lot of unfair tricks to win. »
The friend rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and took off his tie. «Ok handsome, you asked for it. It’s a challenge. I'll get the chips and drinks, you prepare the PlayStation. »
Giuseppe’s smile of broadened endless. "You're a big crock! Could it be possible that in all these years you have not learned the lesson? I am unbeatable at Pro evolution soccer. »
Sidney extended his arms, crossed his fingers and stretched them in some type of warming up: «I'm sorry to humiliate you, but asked for it. I’ll take Real Madrid! »
«Obviously, I’ll choose the legendary Inter! »
Giuseppe put his hand, with his palm open, to his mouth and imitated the voice of Bruno Pizzul:
«Welcome friend viewers. Today you will witness the sports event of the century. The final of the Champion's League: Real Madrid coached by Sidney Dempsey against Inter coached by Giuseppe Baldini. Who will win this epic challenge? Get comfortable in your chair, send the kids to bed. We will start soon! »
Sidney grabbed a pillow and threw it at his friend, «You're still the same fool. All meat and no substance. I’ll destroy you with all my goals! »
Giuseppe picked up the pillow and threw it against his friend, still imitating that low and nasal voice:
«Be careful viewer friends, there are clashes between the teams’ supporters before the game. It seems nothing less than the supporters are fighting with strokes of pillow fights. We will keep you updated on any developments. »
Sidney grabbed him by the head and ruffled his hair. «You're a jerk! »
«A fool that will beat your ass. »
At the moment when the referee whistled the start of the match, the two friends stopped laughing immediately and turned serious and focused as if they were really playing the final of the Champion's League.
When Jessica came home and found them sleeping, with the television and PlayStation still on and with the joysticks in hand.
They slept embraced, Giuseppe's head on Sidney’s chest, just like when they were boys.
Jessica took a blanket and covered them. Then she placed a light kiss on Giuseppe’s lips, thinking:
«My love, it had been an eternity since I saw you so happy! »
Then she looked at Sidney, two tears flowed from the woma
n’s eyes and they stopped at the corners of her mouth. She leaned down and kissed him lightly on her friend’s cheek, leaving a trace of saliva, then she caressed his hair and thought:
"I missed you so much."
CHAPTER 11
It was a quiet summer night, with the clear sky and a hint of stuffiness in the air. The moon was slowly hanging in the background. The trees on the road were still in the air without breeze, their branches, aided by the flickering lamplight, drew strange forms of light and shadows on the deserted sidewalk.
«Get the flour, I’ll dust off the maida» Margherita said to her son.
Giuseppe always waited with trepidation the night of every Saturday of summer, when the school was closed and he could help his mother. She, once a week, prepared wheat bread and then sold it to the shops in town.
The garden was a bit far from their home. They had to take the car and drive along a dirt road and a steep hill. They used to leave very late at the night, but Giuseppe did not mind. He loved getting up at four, breathe the fresh air of the early morning and watch nature wake up.
The garden was a large plot of farmland, with a rustic house of two rooms, one for the oven and one to keep the work tools. There were also a large vegetable garden and a spacious area for the animals.
Margherita and her husband had painstakingly bought it with the savings of a lifetime, finishing paying for it only a year before Giuseppe's father died.
The woman adjusted a lock of hair that was graying ahead of time. «Hold the sieve, while I pour the flour. »
It was Giuseppe’s favorite part because it allowed him to be very close to his mom, who told him a lot of things: about how tiring it was when, as a child, she had to collect huge bags of chestnuts and wash clothes in the stream, about how she would have liked to have gone to college. But that day she went further and asked him, catching him by surprise: «You are in love with Jessica, right? »
Giuseppe winced, letting a bit of flour fall to the floor.
«Mom, what are you saying? You know very well that Jessica, besides being my best friend, is dating Sidney, who is my best friend. But what gave you that impression? »
«Maybe because you mention her every two seconds, speak of her only in positive terms, just because when you speak her name, your eyes smile and because s ...»
The boy paused, bowed his head and said in a subdued tone: «Okay Mom, stop. It is true. I’ve been in love with her since I saw her for the first time. There is something wonderful in her smile, and when I look into her eyes, so extraordinarily beautiful, I experience a mental confusion. When I'm with her I feel on top of the world, caressed by the wind. It is the greatest blessing of my life. »
They began to knead the flour with water.
The woman’s voice was gentle:
«My son, the eyes and smile are important but they are only specifics, remember to always look at the whole. The flour is only the wheat powder, the yeast is only a fungus, but if you combine them together and add a little of water and salt, well then the magic happens. They become the most precious thing in the world: the bread. »
Given that his mother had touched an intimate subject, Giuseppe found the courage to ask her a question that had been longing inside him for some time:
«Why haven’t you ever dated any other men? It’s been many years since dad died, if you do it to protect me, do not worry. I can take care of myself. »
Margherita caressed her son's face with the back of his hand, then kissed him on the forehead and said:
«You are not the reason, continuing on the same subject than before, I can tell you that the bread goes with any food, but only when it finds one in particular, the oil becomes special. Your father and I were bread and oil, and I have no intention of binding in anything else, even if it was a lobster or caviar. »
They continued the work in silence, Giuseppe had not understood very well the speech that his mother had given him, but he continued thinking about it.
Around six, the boy felt a little tired. «Mom, I’ll take a five-minute break. »
"All right love, while the bread leavens I’ll go to pick up the eggs."
Giuseppe went out for a bit and climbed up the trunk of a sturdy cherry. He breathed in the air that smelled of wild grass, of clumps of recently stirred soil. It was the sweetest smell that he had felt after the perfume of Jessica's hair.
He climbed on the highest branch and waited for the dawn to be born. He always did that, but it was a beauty to which he had never got used to. There was never a sunrise made of the same red colors, sometimes it was a pinkish light, other times it was so red that it seemed like it could burn the horizon. That morning streaks of purple light broke through the clouds, diving into the golden sea.
He stayed there for a few moments to enjoy the beauty of the landscape, then he went back to work, started the fire with the wood in the oven, he got it to the right temperature and then he cleaned it.
Margherita took the soft bread with the shovel and gently and accurately placed it inside the oven’s belly.
While the bread baked, they prepared the baskets and the paper in which to wrap it.
A few minutes later, Margherita said with a firm tone:
«It's ready. »
With the same shovel and gently she took bread and put them in long wooden boxes. She removed the bandana on her head and wiped the beads of sweat that glistened on her face that highlighted her tiredness. She went into the other room and took a bottle of oil from the pantry. It was artisanal oil, made from olives that she had picked from the tree and then brought to the mill for processing.
She pointed to her son a loaf of bread that was soft on the surface but toasted in the crust, as he liked.
Giuseppe cut it with a knife and he was hit by a warm puff of steam. «Hot. »
Margherita poured golden threads of oil on the crumb and handed it to her son.
Already at the first bite, Giuseppe felt a tasteful explosion in his mouth. «Oh my God. It's delicious. I have never eaten anything better than this simple bread and oil. »
It was right while he was eating the bread that her mother's speech about the importance of the ‘whole’ became clear before his eyes, moving from his mind to his heart.
"Me and Jessica are bread and oil," he thought with certainty.
The car was loaded with baskets full of bread, ready to be delivered.
«I'm coming son. I'm going to take care of the animals. »
Margherita, with rapid strides, walked into the garden. A group of hens walked around the farmyard pecking the ground for worms. A slight breeze bent the threads of grass browsed by a placid sheep. There were two frisky rabbits hopping through the leaves. She ushered all the animals back in their little stone houses, closed the wooden gate and placed a soft tile on the roof.
On the way back, they stopped to pick up a strawberry. It was soft and fragrant. He ate it. It was very good.
Their attention was attracted to a ladybug, with straight antennae and spotted shell that was poised on the petals of a red rose.
The woman pushed her onto her finger and placed it gently on a patch of grass. She picked up the rose and walked to the mouth of a small source of turquoise-colored water.
She bent on her knees, put together her hands and began to pray: «My love, I miss you to death. I love you, I miss you, I love you, I love you, I love you. » Then she put the rose on the water which slowly carried the rose away from her eyes.
«Mom, you need help? Hurry up that the bread is getting cold. »
Margherita got up. With a decided gesture she dusted off the dust from her skirt, straightened her shoulders, pushed back inside her tears and went in the car.
CHAPTER 12
Jessica was sitting at the edge of the bathtub, wearing only some black slips. She was applying moisturizer on her long legs. Her straight hair was loose on her shoulders, although a few rebellious strands were caressing her face. Giuseppe hugged and kissed her chin, nibbling on i
t. He put his lips on her neck and continued to give her gentle kisses on her shoulders until he reached her bare breasts. He returned up immediately and kissed her lips. She said, opening her mouth slightly.
Giuseppe pulled away. « I have to go now. How do I look? » He asked turning around to highlight the elegant suit he was wearing.
«All right, you'll look great. »
«I'm a bit tense about this conference that I have to give at Harvard University. »
Jessica got up and hugged him from behind, pressing her body against his. «If you have a few minutes, I’ll help you release a bit of tension. »
«I'd love it my love, but if I do not leave in two minutes, I will miss the plane. »
When they separated, Giuseppe looked at her and instinctively said:
«Oh my God, You're wonderful. »
Jessica, moved by the intensity and naturalness of that instant, caressed his lips and Giuseppe gave her one last kiss. «See you tomorrow. Sidney is sleeping. Say goodbye for me. »
Jessica put on a pleated skirt and a draped sweater, and then she went into her friend’s bedroom. She stood in the doorway watching Sidney sleep. He had a regular breathing but his eyelids were shaking restless.
"Maybe he is dreaming" thought the girl, then she walked over, shook him and with a cheerful voice she said:
«Get up you lazy. You did not come on vacation to New York to sleep until late. »
Sidney opened his eyes and saw her. "She is beautiful, maybe I could wake up every day hearing her voice," he thought, but he only said:
«Good morning. »
"Good morning to you. What do you want to do today? »
«Central Park. »
Jessica and Sidney stood in the southern area of Central Park, near a lake. The leaves were floating on the water surface. An old man with curved shoulders was sitting sideways on a nearby bench. In the solitude of his advanced age, he was throwing bread crumbs to a family of ducks, which were giving joy to his heart which was feeling much younger than nature had intended.
The Eternal Moment Page 5