Short story

On Solid Wings

The girl was found on a Friday; the day of the weekly mercato in the small Italian town Ventimiglia. Her hair was full of soaked mud and her naked body was covered with bruises. On the back she had some appalling burn marks which were almost cicatrized, and her minute face was swollen and pale; but yet so beautiful that people talked about it for years. At first sight it was easy to fear the worst; the body seemed lifeless, but inside it a sturdy heart was still combating. She could not have been more than five years old.

   “Merda!” Giampiero stared at what was left of his cappuccino on the floor; it was forming a light brown pond together with the broken pieces of the mug. He saw his own life reflecting in it; broken pieces and something liquid that he could not identify. Since he was already late, he left everything where it was and grabbed the keys of the van, kissed his dreaming wife on the cheek and left. On his way down the stairs he thought about her naked body which had been partly covered by the white sheets; about her almost raven black hair and her sad green eyes. He thought about how she smiled in her sleep. How peaceful she seemed while flying on the solid wings of her dreams, where she did not have to cry herself to sleep or pretend she was happy. He wished he could be there when she opened her eyes. He wished - and if he only could catch one of her smiles before reality shoved itself all the way to her mind, maybe it would not vanish. He realized he had to find another job. Today they were in Ventimiglia, but tomorrow they had to go to Savona and he would have to leave home at four o’clock. Life’s a bitch, he thought and opened the front door, stepped out on the street and left his thoughts were they belonged.

   It was a beautiful morning, the town was yet not brought to life, the sky was serene and the air was already humid and thick. Giampiero knew that the temperature would reach 35 degrees in three or four hours and he glanced at his wristwatch and saw that it was a quarter to six. His colleagues would already have mounted their booths by now, and prepared the stuff to sell during the day. Everyone knew that the inveterate housewives would be there at seven to select the finest vegetables on the mercato and if his booth was not ready they would choose another. It was as simple as that.

When he finally got into the van he called his colleague Umberto and told him he was on his way. Umberto had already picked up the vegetables and the fruit at the warehouse and was waiting in front of the seashore. He did not sound particularly irritated, but he had emphasized that no one was missing except Giampiero.

When he arrived they mounted the booth and half an hour later, when the church bells rang seven times, they were ready to compete. Giampiero glimpsed at the sea behind them and as always he remained stunned by its beauty, but there was something different this morning - something that was disturbing the ideal picture. It seemed like a dead animal, but a strange feeling inside his stomach told him that it was not. He put his hand on Umberto’s arm and pointed at the figure next to the water, but Umberto had no time to comment because Giampiero was already gone.

It was Friday and the girl was found five minutes past seven, just as the town was about to spread its wings in the morning sun.

Giampiero and his wife Laura had been longing for a child for many years, someone who could mend their aching hearts. But every time they thought it was their turn something went wrong. Two years ago they had been blessed with a positive pregnancy test, and Laura’s body had slowly been shaped by the same little angel who filled their longing hearts with joy. But then Laura had urgently been brought to the maternity hospital two months too early and there had been nothing to do; the angel had lost her wings - and Giampiero and Laura - their zest for life. So when Giampiero had seen the girl’s abused body he had cried like a child; how could god be so unfair? His hand had unconsciously touched the muddled hair; he had thought that it most probably used to be light-colored and soft as silk. He had mechanically dropped the hair when two men from La Croce Rossa had arrived from nowhere, taking the wounded body away from his sight. When he had opened his eyes he had seen Laura in front of him, she had been crying too and behind her appealing silhouette he had distinguished Umberto’s face. He had heard some voices, but the words had sounded foreign. The last thing he remembered was that he had felt a cushion of tepid sand underneath his head and then the world had vanished before his eyes.

It was almost lunchtime when Giampiero opened his eyes and drowned in the green emerald sea situated in the land of his wife’s beautiful eyes. Her hand was playing with his curly hair and she smiled tentatively, opening the mouth as if she was going to say something. But she remained silent and made an excusing gesture towards the room with her free hand; she did not know what to say. Giampiero did not need to observe the naked and sterile room to comprehend where he was; he would have recognized the hospital only by its particular smell. As he watched Laura he tried to put words on his emotions but for some reason he could not do that.

“Amore,” Laura said quietly, “Umberto called me right away. How are you feeling? The girl was still breathing when she came here, and she’s in the emergency room now.”  

“I want to see her, Laura. I have to see her.”

Giampiero did not know exactly why he had said that, but something inside him told him it was important – essential – that he saw that girl again. He watched Laura as her eyes became moist with tears and he could not interpret her reaction. He felt incapable of comforting her so he did not move and when realizing his lack of attention Laura got on her feet.

“I’ll talk to Roberto.” she said in a broken voice and vanished like a phantom.  

Roberto was washing his hands when he saw Laura at the end of the corridor, he could see how her entire body was carrying the burden of years of dejection. As she approached he noticed that her eyes were red, as if she had cried recently, and that she held her hands in a strange way – was she praying? As soon as she appeared in front of him, Roberto embraced her without saying a word and he could feel her howling as an electric shock running trough his body.

“Bambina mia,” he said and kissed her on the forehead, “it’s about the child, isn’t it?”

Laura nodded; it was always about the child. It was impossible for her to know if Roberto intended the child they had lost or the one that Giampiero had found, but it did not matter.

It was always about the child.  

She looked at Roberto, her fratellone, the only brother she had ever had. He was tall and handsome, dark eyes and dark hair and a photocopy of their father. He was married, he had two wonderful children, and they were a family. Laura could not help feeling jealous; she could not help wishing she was living his life – their life. His strong hands were now removing her tears with such softness that Laura could not breathe.

“Giampiero wants to see her. He is out of his mind…”

Roberto stared at her. She suddenly realized that he had not been talking about the girl on the beach.

“The girl that he found this morning,” she added quickly, “the one that’s in the emergency room…”

She could see how Roberto was relieved, but she felt devastated; he had thought that Giampiero wanted to commit suicide. For a second she wondered if he had ever believed that she was capable of it too, if he sometimes had feared the worst. She did not have the courage to ask. She did not want to know.

When Laura opened the door to Giampiero’s room she had been away for almost two hours. She expected him to be asleep, but he was sitting on the edge of the bed with empty eyes and he did not react when she entered the room. On one side of the bed there was a tray with food, but Laura did not have to remove the covers to know that Giampiero had not touched it. She did not blame him; the food in Italian hospitals did not taste anything.

“Listen,” she said. “Roberto has talked to Enzo, and Enzo talked to someone else who talked to the big boss…”

She felt stupid. She did not have to explain everything - he did not care. The only thing he wanted was to know what the final answer had been. She paused and waited for him to act in response, but he seemed far away from her. In his eyes she recognized the emptiness; the outrageous beast that had established itself in their lives after the misfortune, and she felt as if they were losing each other again. All she longed for was to be seen; to know that he was aware of her pain. She tried to hold back the burning tears and said: 

“However, you can see her for a couple of minutes.”

Giampiero closed his eyes and exhaled. His mellow voice was almost inexistent when he began to speak.

“Now?” he asked.

“Yes.” said Laura and drowned in her own resolute sorrow when he did not even glance at her before he left the room.

The first thought that ran through his head when he saw her on the bed was that he had never seen such a beautiful creature before. Her hair had been washed and dried. It was blonde, almost white, and the corkscrew curls which fell so perfectly around her pale face made all the bruises seem transparent. She was observing him as he was observing her and her blue eyes were not revealing anything of what was going on inside her head. Giampiero looked at her skin, it was discolored by all the bruises and her tiny hands were covered with old scars. As soon as she noticed he was studying her hands she instinctively touched the scars as if she was caressing a kitten. Her mouth was closed, the lips pressed together, and she did not seem to have the intention to talk. But Giampiero had.

“You don’t know me,” he said. “My name is Giampiero and I was the one who found you this morning. I wanted to… to see how you feel.”

The girl did not say anything, but her eyes were almost smiling. Her mouth was half open and it seemed as if she was thinking about how to communicate, and then she touched his hand. A sudden surge of familiarity ran trough his body, as an electric déjà-vu that was feeding him with distant memories and he saw Laura in a hospital bed. Her face was in pain and her eyes were screaming instead of her voice; it had already been consumed hours before. Giampiero heard his own voice, it was whispering desperately. He knew exactly what it was saying, he remembered every single word.

Where is my baby? Oh God, I want to see my child!

“Ok, thank you very much. Yes, I will. Grazie, arrivederci!”

As soon as Giampiero dropped the phone on the desk his eyes met Laura’s and he smiled. He could not believe their request had been accepted by the bureaucrats, and in only a few weeks. It was a miracle; someone must have been listening to their prayers.

Three weeks earlier, four days after the finding of the girl on the beach, no one had yet contacted the police to identify her. The girl had not uttered a word and Giampiero and Laura had been the only persons who had been able to bring some life into her sad eyes. At this point Giampiero and Laura had requested to get the custody of the girl, at least until her relatives would emerge out of nowhere, and now the call had come. The girl, who officially had became Aurora to entire Italy, would be a part of their family in a few hours.

Laura embraced Giampiero and cried. She had known right from the start that Aurora would steal her heart; one look had been sufficient to fall in love with her angelic appearance and her delicate manner. It must be a dream, she thought.

“When is she coming home?” she asked, as if she had always lived there.

“They’ll bring her tomorrow morning,” Giampiero said and took Laura’s hand. He guided her through the apartment and they stopped in front of a closed door, smiling insecurely at each other. On the other side of the door there was a small room with pink walls, neatly ironed curtains with teddy bears on and a cot with bars, prepared with pink and light blue cotton sheets. Next to the window there was a bookcase filled with children’s books and on the top of it a furry bunny in vivid colors looked down at them. The room was dusty and the air was stuffy; no one had entered it since the lost of their beloved baby.

“She won’t be able to fit in this cot.” Laura said and touched it with her free hand.

Giampiero glanced at his wristwatch and kissed her on the cheek.

“Let’s buy a bigger one,” he said. “It’s only five o’clock.”

Laura nodded and they left the room, and this time they did not even consider closing the door behind them.

As they walked hand in hand to the car, Giampiero thought about the first day in the hospital. At the same time Aurora had let go of his hand he had awaken from his flashbacks and found that her penetrating eyes were observing him; full of comprehension and affection. His first reaction had been to embrace her, but then he had remembered the panic from his recent memories. They had run through his body, hot and bubbly as steaming water.

“Who are you?” he had asked her.

She had not answered, but she had looked at him with eyes marked by love. A love he had never seen in any eyes before. A love he would have given his newborn child; unquestionable and pure. He had embraced her and her hair had been as soft as he had imagined it to be, reminding him of a warm summer breeze caressing his bare skin.

Laura had entered the room a few minutes later and she had found them silent, but the harmony that had been created in the room had been communicating all by itself. And as Laura’s eyes had met Aurora’s, he had instantly known that Laura had felt the same way too.

“I think she’ll love her new room,” Laura said and looked at the new furniture they had bought. The cot with bars had been exchanged by a lovely little bed with beautiful pink flowers engraved in the headboard. In the corner stood a white desk and a box of colors and a drawing-block were lying on the left side of it. The curtains with teddy bears had been replaced by a plain pink curtain valance, accurately chosen to match the flowers on the headboard. On the floor there was a carpet shaped as a heart and Giampiero was careful not to step on it when he crossed the room to reach Laura.  

“I’m sure she’ll adore it, amore,” he said and kissed her. “It’s perfect.”

Then he glanced at his wristwatch - it was almost noon. They had informed him that she would arrive after lunchtime and not after breakfast as they had told him on the phone the day before. There had been a delay due to some paper they had signed, but everything was fixed and Giampiero was not surprised; after all they were in Italy.

“I wonder what she’s thinking right now,” Laura was touching the doorframe. “And does she know she’s going to live here?”

“I don’t know, but I assure you she’ll be very happy here.”

It seemed as if she was satisfied with the answer so Giampiero embraced her and looked at her beautiful lines. Her face was not solemn as it used to be; her eyes were shining and her mouth was formed into a content smile. He could almost feel her heart beating with newfound love and he wished it could last a lifetime. This breathtaking love – unquestionable and pure – was all they had. Without it they would drift apart again. He embraced her even harder and she laughed and told him to let go, but he did not want to; he was too frightened he would wake up from this idyllic dream if he did.  

She was dressed in a yellow t-shirt and a white skirt when she came. The bruises on her arms and legs had almost vanished and her skin was white as snow. She ran towards Laura with open arms and embraced her warmly, and then she looked at Giampiero and took his hand. He embraced her delicately, as if she would fall apart if he squeezed her a little bit harder. Roberto, who had been one of the accompaniers, smiled and kissed his sister on the cheek.

“You look so peaceful, sorellina.”    

“I am, Roberto. And I can’t remember the last time I felt like this.”

Giampiero kissed Roberto on the cheeks three times.

“Want some coffee?” he asked.

“No, grazie. I have to return to the hospital.” Roberto answered and opened the door, but before leaving he turned around and looked at Giampiero.

“I saw Umberto two days ago, in Genoa; he had some other fellow with him in the booth. Have you thought about going back to work?”

Giampiero had thought about it, yes, but he was not ready. Not yet. He had told Umberto he would stay at home for an undetermined period of time and he had approved. But they had not decided for how many weeks – or months – and Giampiero knew he only had to ask. Umberto was an honest man, unlike many other Italians, and he would not replace Giampiero without informing him about it.

“I’ve taken some vacation. Another week and I’ll return to work.”

Roberto observed him with his dark eyes and nodded.

“Good, don’t forget you’re a father now. You have to maintain your family.”

Giampiero smiled, imagining he was beating the hell out of his perfect brother-in-law.

“Yes, I know.” He said and observed Laura and Aurora in the kitchen. They were the most beautiful creatures on earth and they were his family.   

So fuck you, bastardo he thought, still smiling at Roberto who was walking down the stairs.

That evening, after putting Aurora to bed, Giampiero and Laura were sitting on the couch eating some grapes.

“Isn’t this a little bit too good to be true?” Giampiero said quietly. Laura nodded and caressed his hand.

“I mean,” he continued. “How is it possible for this to happen? We shouldn’t been authorized to have her here. I know how these fucking laws work and then, the red tape… it’s fucking incredible. I can’t believe it.”

Laura did not answer. She just stared at him, as if she suddenly had realized that something was wrong.

“But she’s here, isn’t she?” she said.

“Yes, but what if they’ll come and take her back…?”

“They won’t,” Laura said firmly. “They’ll have to kill me first.”

Giampiero looked at her; the woman he had married seven years ago and that he had almost lost. He leant forward and kissed her on the lips, she kissed him back and they both felt that tingle they had not felt in so many months. Without saying a word they moved towards the bedroom and for the first time in all those meaningless months they made love. Giampiero moaned when he finally released the accumulated anguish and filled Laura with unborn love. Their eyes met in the dark and they were flying together in an orgasmic dream; high on love and happiness.

“Ti amo,” Giampiero whispered as he rolled over on his back.

Laura was about to answer him when she noticed a strange shadow in the dark and she turned on the light to see what it was.

“Oh mio dio!” she exclaimed as the shadow took the shape of Aurora’s minute body. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, observing their naked bodies with fixed eyes. Laura covered their bare skin with the sheet and felt like dying. How long had she been there? Her mouth was dry and she could perceive that Giampiero was in shock too. Nobody moved, so Laura decided to search for her clothes on the floor. But when she managed to find them Aurora was already gone, only the trembling door revealed that she had actually been there.

“Oh Giampiero, what have we done?” she cried while she put her clothes on.

He did not answer; he was floating on a sea of remorse which was taking him back to a world he was well familiar with.

Isn’t it a little bit too good to be true?

Where is my baby?

Don’t forget you’re a father now.

Oh my god. Ti amo.

Laura woke up with a headache and it only got worse when she remembered what had happened during the night. After putting her clothes on she had found Aurora in her room, sleeping – or pretending to be asleep - in her bed. She had caressed her hair, and she had cried some silent tears thinking she was not supposed to be a mother. Then she had noticed a couple of drawings on the desk. Drawings of what seemed as two disfigured babies inside a sphere and she had left the room with a perturbed feeling inside her stomach.

Who was that girl? What had happened to her?

She reached out to touch Giampiero but his side of the bed was empty and cold so she glanced at the alarm clock and saw it was only twenty minutes past seven. A little note was lying near the clock and she opened it.

Boungiorno bellissima! We are at the mercato. Don’t make breakfast; we’ll bring some warm cornetti.

Love, G & A

She smiled, wondering if she had only had a bad dream last night. On her way out of the bedroom she thought about the weird drawings she had seen and decided to take a look on Aurora’s desk, maybe they were still there. They were not. She searched through all the drawers, but there was no trace of them. Then she glanced at the bed, it was made and the sheets were perfectly smoothed – too perfectly – as if no one had been sleeping there at all. She approached and let her fingers run over the bed, uncovering the cushion. Her heart was beating faster as she realized that the sheets could not have been touched since she had made the bed the day before.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered. “She slept there last night; I put her to bed myself. What the hell is happening here?”       

“Umberto, this is Aurora. Aurora, this is my colleague Umberto.”

Umberto, who was alone in the booth, smiled and looked at Giampiero.

“So, fancy some coffee? I know I do!”

Giampiero laughed and shook his head.

“No, we’re going home to Laura. I’ve promised her some warm cornetti, but I can buy you a cup of coffee if you like.”

That sounded good to Umberto, so he nodded and gave Giampiero five euro.

“I pay for the cornetti.” he said.

Giampiero thanked and he and Aurora walked towards the bar on the other side of the road. A couple of meters from the entrance a gipsy woman was sitting on the pavement and when she saw them crossing the street she stared at Aurora with fearful eyes. 

“Who sent you here?” she said. “Am I going to die?”

Giampiero told Aurora not to look at the woman.

“Are you here for my babies?” the woman shouted. “I won’t give them to you, I won’t!”

Inside the bar they approached to the counter and Giampiero bought a coffee for Umberto and four cornetti al cioccolato for breakfast. He asked Sandro, the owner of the bar, if he knew he had a crazy woman sitting next to his door, disturbing the customers.

“Oh, that’s only Romina. She’s been drifting here for a couple of weeks. She’s really good at seeing people. I mean, who they really are. But I’ve never heard any complains about her behavior; she’s a little bit nutty but not dangerous.”

Giampiero looked at Aurora; her blue eyes were fixed upon the bag of cornetti that she held in her hand. In her soft hair she had a hair slide with a butterfly and she wore a blue dress with white flowers. She looked divine and he noticed that all people in the bar looked at her too. His face turned red as they made their way through the bar and out on the street. The gipsy woman was gone and Giampiero thanked god for that. Aurora watched him as he gave the coffee to Umberto and then she let go of his hand and pointed at the bag with cornetti.

“Do you want to go home?” Giampiero asked.

She smiled and nodded. As they walked along the seashore Giampiero saw the gipsy woman in one of the crossroads. She was staring at them and when Aurora turned her head to see what Giampiero was looking at, the woman disappeared into a staircase.

She’s really good at seeing people. Who they really are.

Giampiero looked down at Aurora and when she met his eyes he felt nothing but affection. But there was something about her that was not right; what had she done in their room last night? Why had she vanished like a ghost?

“Who are you?” he mumbled looking at the sea. What are you? But these words he could not pronounce.

There were two cups of coffee on the table and an empty bag. Laura licked the chocolate of her fingers and tried to smile at Aurora but she could still not feel at ease next to her. She wanted to have a word with Giampiero about the bed and the drawings, but it was only eight o’clock in the morning and the day would seem everlasting. She detested her own feelings; she wanted to scream and cry and hide from the rest of the world. Instead she was sitting in front of her husband and her so called daughter with a fixed smile, while she was slowly dying inside. Did they notice? Had Giampiero forgot about what had happened? He seemed too serene and too joyful to remember.

“I saw you’d made Aurora’s bed this morning,” she said as an attempt to figure out if he knew something about it.

“I wished I had, but she had already made it when I got up.” Giampiero laughed and looked at Aurora who was observing Laura. It was impossible for Laura to meet her eyes, thus she took the empty cups and put them in the washing-up sink. She remained there for a moment, pretending to wash the cups, and her heart stopped beating when she felt a small hand on her arm. She turned around to face the girl and the compassion she saw in her eyes made her cry. The hand, which was still on Laura’s arm, moved to the abdomen and Laura could feel how her face turned blank as a white sheet. She wanted to turn around but she could not, it was as if Aurora’s hand was a potent magnet. When she finally managed to pull herself away she ran to the bathroom and threw up the breakfast. Aurora was still standing in the kitchen - weak and pale - and when Giampiero entered the kitchen only two minutes later he found her unconscious on the floor. 

When Aurora opened her eyes she was lying on her bed and Giampiero was sitting on a chair next to her. Laura had gone for a walk, hoping to remove her sense of remorse and repulsion. As Giampiero saw Aurora’s eyes he felt relieved; he had for some reason decided not to call the doctors.

“I’m sorry,” he said and squeezed her hand. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Aurora shook her head.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” she said in a remarkably adult voice. “I should have acted differently.”    

Giampiero was too shocked to move or speak.

“I was sent here to save you,” she continued. “And now I have also frightened you.”

She stood up and began to walk towards the window.

“Everything that has happened in these weeks was meant to happen,” she said and Giampiero could see that something was moving behind her back.

“If you had not found me, no one had. I’m only here for you. When I’m gone you and Laura will be the only ones who remember me alive. To everyone else I was dead when you found me.”

“Who are you?” Giampiero asked for the third time in a few weeks. He felt awkwardly calm and reasonable. Aurora moved her body so he could see what she had on her back and he could not believe his eyes when he saw two white wings growing from the burn marks on her shoulder blades.

“I’m your guardian angel,” she said. “And last night I had to make sure you were producing something.”

“You mean…that Laura is pregnant?”

“Yes, and this time there won’t be any problems. You have my word on that, I will watch over you all.” She took his hands and Giampiero started to feel dizzy.

“Tell Laura I didn’t mean to scare her and that you’ll soon be twice as happy as before.” was the last thing she said before she opened the window and his eyes became too heavy for him to bear.

“I don’t want to see, I’m too excited!” Laura exclaimed as she was lying on the bed, ready to initiate the ultrasound. Giampiero took her hand and kissed it softly.

“I think you’re as ready as I am.” He said.

When the picture appeared on the screen Laura turned blank.

“Oh my god,” she said. “It’s incredible!”

On the screen she saw the same picture that she had seen on Aurora’s desk three months earlier – two babies in a sphere.

Twice as happy.

“Thank you,” Giampiero whispered before he started to cry.