....AND ANOTHER SICILIAN STORY

"Five" pictures are here

The Godmother

My unvolontary imprisonment got more and more on my nerves. The fact not being able to go out alone in Messina I just couldn't get used too and complained. Finally we moved over outside Messina to a just wonderful place. It belonged to a "Professore"(everybody who could read and write at this time in Sicily was immediately promoted to Professore or Dottore) This man was old, at least 50 ! but for a young girl of 23 it really was. I was told that he was a famous poet and writer. He had a face like an eagle, burning eyes and thick grey hair. It's strange that after so many years I still can remember this face. A lot of strange things happened in and around the house, but I didn't notice it at all, everything seemed normal to me. It's only long time later, when I knew a little more about the famous Mafia that I wondered if I hadn't been just in their middle without knowing it.
The house was flat and quite big with a huge patio. The view was just beautiful over Messina to the sea. It was surrounded by Olive trees which grew on large terraces up the hill. The whole property was very big and surrounded by a wall. I didn't like walls, and it was the only thing I wondered about. That every car which wanted to go through a big gate was controlled by a big guy, or that in the middle of the night men arrived making such a noise that I woke up, I didn't find strange. Anyway I was in love and love makes blind.
A completely black dressed old women scurried through the house and did everything. She was the only female person around. When I tried to ask her something other then what I needed, she looked at me with a shy glance and disappeared without any answer. I asked FL (first love) about this and other things I had noticed and found unusual, but for an answer I only got a laugh, a kiss and "don't bother". I didn't think more about it and enjoyed good food, sunshine and the sea. There was a private beach too.
One late evening men arrived and I heard agitated voices. FL got up and disappeared. Of course I got curious and wanted to know what happened. As an answer I was pushed back in the room and locked in ! That made me crazy, never ever in my whole life somebody had dared to lock me in ! I screamed, shouted and drummed with my hands against the door, without success. Nobody bothered about me, not even FL ! In my rage I took the first thing coming across my way, which was a heavy cupper thing, I don't remember what and smashed it against the window which was open but had thick stores. The stores went open and I could see moon and a lot of stars on the dark blue sky. These dark moonlight skies I remember for ever, they were so beautiful. Inspite of this noise, nobody came. I still boilt with rage and climbed out of the window, ran over in the dark night to sit down under olive trees. There I cried waterfalls of rage. Calming down a little, I started breeding my revenge. He had dared to lock me in !! and in my innocent mind, I decided to walk along the beach to the city and have a drink somewhere. I really was crazy.
After a while still only seeing closed and dark houses I wondered what to do now. Again without thinking I knocked on a door. The word danger or dangerous wasn't part of my vocabulary and fear neither. Finally a man opened the door and when he saw me he starred at me as if I were a ghost and called his wife. She took me in and was so kind an friendly and gave me wine (which I badly needed) and then their 3 children also came and looked at me, the stranger from another world.
What followed afterwards I can only guess. After maybe half an hour FL showed up with 3 other men, who looked quite unfriendly and of course he was angry with me. But not as much as I was with him ! so we screamed and shouted at each other, while the others were standing around. Finally I agreed to go back with them anyway I had no other choice and I think I remember seeing him giving some money to this family. Years later I understood that anyway this family or even single men wouldn't have dared to harm me. Professore the peaceful poet and writer was maybe not what he pretended to be.
Other Sicilian stories here