Chapter 4.
Hooligan
Nearing the weekend, the weather
grew colder. Autumn swept over Lucca in one, great burst. Leaves danced in wind
as farmers harvested crops and vintners pressed their wine. The whole city
broke from summer’s laziness. Men and women crowded the streets going about
daily work, sounds and smells cluttered the air.
On Saturday, after evening prayer,
as he did during winter’s approach, Cardinal Fratelli left the cathedral open
for any homeless people wishing to escape the cold. Clutching his red cape to
his chest, he braved the coming winds and walked to the cathedral, carrying
bread and butter. Father Rodrigo ambled behind with fruit and hot tea. The
cathedral’s warm, candle-lit glow greeted them. A statue of Mother Mary held
out her benevolent hands in prayer. There, they set out a clandestine dinner
for their less fortunate guests, allowing them to eat in the church aisle or on
makeshift tables.
While they dined, Fratelli blessed
them saying, “And you shall eat there in
the sight of the Lord your God: and you shall rejoice in all things, whereunto
you shall put your hand, you and your houses wherein the Lord your God hath
blessed you. (1)”
One of the old women beseeched
Fratelli and he stooped, conversing with her as they ate. Suddenly standing up,
he caught a boy’s dark eyes leering at him. Sitting under a graceful, stone
arch, the boy had light, golden-brown hair that fell in a mess and ragged, grey
clothes. His eyes stayed steadily upon the cardinal who neared.
“Did you eat?” Fratelli asked.
Strait-faced, the boy replied, “Go
away.”
Fratelli blushed; his lips stumbled for
a response. Instead, he just whispered a blessing and left. Halfway down the
aisle, he looked back and saw the boy still staring at him. Maybe, he will be
glad if I give him some clean clothes? Fratelli thought. He went into his house
and searched though some items which were donated to the church. Grabbing a
nicely folded shirt, some pantaloons and a cloth bag, he walked back.
Given these items, the boy expressed
slight gratitude then paced towards the marble altar. Fratelli was moved by
this seeming piety. All of sudden, the boy scrambled up the sanctuary steps,
snatched a golden candlestick, hid it in the bag he was just given and darted
out a side-door. Fratelli cried out,
instantly pursuing after. He ran out the door, jumped down the steps and chased
the thief’s departing shadow through the courtyard. However, stopping at the
iron fence, heaving and leaning on the grate, he didn’t see anyone anymore.
Rodrigo came forth.
“Your Eminence, why are you
like that? All out of breath?”
“You didn’t see him…” Fratelli panted,
“That little hooligan stole a candlestick….right from the altar!”
Helping Fratelli stand and walk over
the grass, Rodrigo pointed east then asked, “He went that way?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Well perhaps you can describe him
to Ernesto, your brother?”
Fratelli waved his hand vainly.
“Never
mind… He’s just a child- and anyone who steals something that intently, must
have need of it.”
Rodrigo shrugged.
Once inside, the cardinal excused
himself and rested in the parlor. Rodrigo followed discovering him sitting in
his favorite chair, thinking, periodically scribbling something on a piece of
paper. His plans for Christmas- no doubt. Knowing he was being watched,
Fratelli gazed up and beckoned.
“Do you think we should have a baker to
make fine cakes?”
“Sure…”
“You don’t seem interested Rodrigo.”
“No I am,” the priest said sitting in the
chair across him, “I am just tired.”
“I see. Advent can be a time of busy
preparation… preparing for the Lord. We are all so excited and expectant…and
yes, busy.”
He
paused, glancing out the window at dark trees pierced by dingy street-lamps.
Cold settled over the sky, whistling on wind.
“Did you bring blankets to the
cathedral?”
Rodrigo froze, color draining from his
face.
“Oh
yes, I must do that!” he gasped, “Please forgive my absentmindedness.”
“Well, we may have to ask their forgiveness,” Fratelli said
standing holding out one hand to stop Rodrigo from leaving; “I will go. Maybe
that boy will have returned there.”
With blankets
bundled over his arms, Fratelli strolled to the cathedral. Many people were
glad to see him and gave fond greetings. He distributed the blankets and
remained for some time talking with those gathered. One of them, an old woman,
sat in a pew and reminisced about bygone years when her family was more
fortunate. Fratelli stayed, listening, feeling that the world could sometimes
be very unfair. He consoled the women and told her she was always welcome to
the church. Then, he thought to ask:
“Do any of you
know a boy, about 13 years old, with blondish hair? He had been here
earlier…maybe some of you even saw him run out of the church?”
“Oh yes,” the
old woman replied, “That’s Gianni. He’s a no-good street-urchin!”
“Oh,” Fratelli
muttered.
He had a feeling
this wasn’t the last he’d hear of Gianni. In fact, his heart stirred with pity.
Surely, the boy behaved badly for a reason? Maybe had no parents? He tried not
to worry himself too much about it and said farewell. Rushing home through the
cold courtyard, he once again hugged his cloak tightly.
Chapter
5.
Market Day.
Autumn
harvest-season meant one main thing to Fratelli- olives and new wine. He was
anxious to have both in the household, a perfect condiment for himself and for guests.
Monday came slowly but at dawn, Fratelli eagerly rose, dressed and said
morning-prayer. He hurriedly went to the cathedral and celebrated Mass. Much of
his audience consisted of the poor and homeless people from last night. Wearing
a tall, plain, white miter and violet vestments, Fratelli kindly spoke:
“Blessed are you who suffer in this life, for
in your pain and trial, you are united to Christ. Your cries will be heard,
gentle children. Jesus Christ came on earth in the vesture of one poor and
lowly, who being in very nature, God, did not consider equality with God
something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a
servant, being made in human likeness. (1). The King of kings was once poor
and lonely just like you... most blessed children.
Let
me admit, that you should not be pitied, for the likes of you shall judge
princes and kings! I could only aspire for the holiness, which you possess
simply in your daily lives… You are more akin to Christ than me... O blessed
ones!”
After Mass, he met Dina in the kitchen
to go over what they needed from the market.
“Would you like
me to come with you?” Fratelli offered once she had drawn up a list.
“No, I don’t
need help,” she replied.
Fratelli didn’t
object as she strolled out, carrying a handbag over her shoulder and a large
basket. He knew that theological document still sat on his desk, still beckoned
his attention. Entering the office, he grabbed the book, sat and read where
he’d left off. Halfway through…
~ ~ ~
Bright sun
beamed down on Dina’s brown curls as she walked city streets, coming to the
piazza which sprawled with people tending various wares. The food market also
stood there. Fresh smells hit her nose and she breathed deeply with delight.
Amidst the crowds and clamor, she felt at peace by simply doing her work.
After buying a
large bag of olives, some oil and flour, Dina found Luigi and picked out a nice
cut of meat for dinner. The thick-shouldered, black-haired man smiled as he
handed her two pork-chops and a roll of cured prosciutto over the counter.
Leaving Luigi’s shop, Dina almost bumped into Francine’s oncoming figure.
“Oh, hello
Dina!” the woman said, her auburn tinted hair glimmering in sunlight, “Why
isn’t my nephew, the cardinal, here helping you?”
Dina shifted the
items in her arms and responded, “I told him to stay home.”
“Well, let me
help you,” Francine offered, “I’m going that way.”
Before Dina
could answer, Francine already took several things from her then began walking.
Sighing, Dina followed. They came to the villa, entering through a side door
and Francine helped Dina put her newly-purchased items on the kitchen counter.
“Oh, while I am
here,” Francine began, “I will visit my nephew. Where is he?”
“Probably in his office.”
“Thank you
dear!” Francine said and rushed out.
Indeed, Cardinal
Fratelli sat in his office, back turned to the sunny window, reading the theological
book. Francine knocked on the wall startling him.
“Oh, it’s
you…hello,” Fratelli said.
“What have you
there?”
Fratelli’s brows
arched somewhat surprised Francine would take any interest in what he worked
on. For the longest time, the two of them fought and now, she made earnest
efforts to behave friendly.
“It is a
theological treatise, submitted this month for an imprimatur,” Fratelli
explained, “Though there seems to be nothing doctrinally incorrect, it is very
boring!”
He tossed the
book onto his desk letting it land with a heavy thud. Francine snickered then
covered her mouth.
“Actually
Francine, I did wish to speak with you…” Fratelli then said.
“Me?”
“Yes…”
The cardinal
stood, removing his red cap, placing it atop the desk and gestured for her to
follow as he moved into the hallway.
“I want to host
a very nice party for the Feast of the Nativity,” he started, “…however, I know
next to nothing about planning good events, but you do.”
Francine clasped
a hand to her chest and spoke joyfully, “Oh, you thought of me! Come, come into
the parlor and we’ll discuss it. I have so many great ideas!”
They sat
conversing as Francine took Fratelli’s notes, crossed them out and started
penning her own ideas on a separate paper. While Fratelli conceived of a splendid
party, Francine thought it should be spectacularly splendid.
“Here is what
you’ll do: Hire pastry chefs and cooks, have them make all the food. I know
someone I can talk with on this matter,” Francine rambled as Fratelli’s mind
swirled trying to collect it all, “You want three violinists and one cellist
for music, that way the sound will be rich and deep. Oh, and for flowers you
don’t want daisies, why did you write down daisies? No, we want poinsettias,
brilliant and red!”
Fratelli
frowned.
But I don’t
like…” he began only to get interrupted.
“Oh and we need
an entertainer- maybe a magician…”
“No magicians,
they are irreligious!” Fratelli finally shouted.
“How about some
exotic birds, they’re God’s creatures…”
“Fine.”
He crossed his
arms, quietly huffing. Thinking a moment, he then spoke, “Also I want to have
brightly wrapped presents for the poor children.”
“Why?”
“They deserve
gifts too Francine…”
“Oh, you are so
silly Angelo!”
He cringed,
hearing his name. Francine ignored his displeasure and continued her boisterous
speech. This was going to be harder than he imagined.
After Francine
left, handing Fratelli quite a stack of notes, he exhaled deeply and closed the
door. Everything fell silent. He set the notes down on his desk, listened to a
bird distantly singing and delicately crossed himself.
“Lord, help me,” he said.
Suddenly, Dina
stepped into the hallway, her face glad but now frowning as she looked upon the
tired cardinal. She hesitated then announced, “The new wine is here.”
Fratelli walked
to the side door and went outside. There a tall, muscular man unloaded barrels
from a cart. Carmel-colored hides glistening in sunset, four draft-horses
cranked their necks at Fratelli’s approach and snorted.
“Thank you so
much Carlo,” he said to the man who set one barrel by the door and looked up,
dark eyes shining with vigor.
Carlo bowed in
greeting, kissed the cardinal’s ring then turned back to his work. Fratelli
smelled fragrant, old wood as another barrel was placed down. He curiously
moved closer. When Carlo unloaded the third barrel, Fratelli swerved aside,
believing he’d moved out of the way, but felt a horrible pain as it was shoved
right onto his toe. He hollered loudly, startling Carlo who gaped and swiftly
rolled the barrel aside.
Fratelli hopped,
grabbing his hurt foot while Dina helped him stand and scolded him for getting
in the way. Carlo profusely apologized, “I am so, so sorry Your Eminence!
Please forgive me!”
“It’s fine, it’s
fine…” Fratelli muttered, “All is forgiven.”
“Go inside,”
Dina told him.
He obeyed,
limping into the kitchen where he removed his shoe then poured cold water on
his swollen, red toe. Wincing, he prayed a silent prayer for strength and
anticipated a glass of that new wine.
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