I remained at Nunzi's for two days and three nights. After my freezing midnight parade through Paola with my bedsheet, I took ill. I had fever and chills, so badly that Nunzi put me to bed in her son Vicenzo's bed. She kept washing me down in cool water, and then bundling me back up in blankets.
Once I could sit up, Nunzi fed me whatever she was making for her family. Bread with olive oil. Beans and pasta. And last night, a treat. Anchovies. And an orange.
This morning, I told her I wanted to go home. She agreed it was time.
"But I'm going with you."
"Nunzi, that's not necessary."
"Yes it is Fi because you are wearing my clothes!" She smiled at me. "It's good to see you back among the living."
Her saying that brought back the scissor of pain. I hugged my arms over my chest. My breasts were flat. But that doesn't mean I have forgotten my little squash. My head bowed. I felt tears arise once more. I wiped one arm across my eyes.
"Stop, Filo!" Nunzi took hold of my shoulders and shook my arms up and down. "You can't drop back into the darkness again. I won't allow it."
I looked up at her. I whimpered. "But what is it that will keep me going, knowing that I will never see him again...."
Nunzi reached over and covered one hand over my mouth. I could smell garlic, onions.
"OK, now hear me out," Nunzi said. She pulled a shawl around her shoulders and handed me one. "Come with me." She led me outside. The sun was so bright I had to cover my eyes. "Sit!" she commanded.
We sat down on the wooden bench beside her heavy door. Nunzi wasted no time. She took hold of my chin and looked deep into my eyes.
"No more of this weeping and feeling sorry for yourself, do you hear me? There is nothing in that pity for you Filo, nothing! As I was trying to tell you the other night, we really might have hope now!" She let go of my chin.
In that moment, a ray of light fell across Nunzi's shoulder and landed on me. "See," she said, "we need to stay in the light!" I reached over and hugged her.
"Thank you for taking such good care of me," I said. "And thank you for taking care of my little boy."
We sat together for a few minutes. "So we need to talk about the woman in Amantea," Nunzi said. "She is waiting to hear from me, or should I say, you."
I took in a long breath, and then let it out. I could feel myself getting nervous again, thinking about the baby. I miss him, as if he were one of my arms, one that I lost so very suddenly. "What...what do I have to do?"
"It's simple," Nunzi replied. "All you have to do is say yes. And then we go and retrieve your...the baby and bring him to her."
"But I don't understand," I say. "Aren't the town officials going to have something to say about this?"
"As far as they are concerned, Filo, the baby is with me. He is my responsibility."
"With you, Nunzi, but not with you, I don't under..."
"Shhhh," Nunzi said, covering my hand with hers. "You see, Filo, because I was the one who brought the baby in, my name is registered. But of course, I couldn't nurse him, so I told the official, whose named is Stefano, that I would be bringing the baby to a woman to be nursed. Which I did. On that journey that took me and Matteo nearly three hours."
"And now?"
"And now we will take him to Amantea. The town officials won't know. And Lauretta -- in Amantea -- she is so much closer to us."
"Yes, but what does that mean for me? When will I see him? How often?"
Nunzi sighed. "Filo, this is something we will have to work out. I cannot promise that you will see him as much as you would like."
I started to sniffle.
"Don't start that, Filo! No crying, do you hear me? I have done nothing these past few weeks except attend to you and your baby. My own family I am ignoring so much that Matteo is complaining. Please understand that what I am doing is violating the law, on your behalf! I am crossing not only the town officials but also that dreadful priest, Father Crudele."
Nunzi made the sign of the cross. "Filo, I am so so sorry for your loss. You know I am. But my sweet sister, because you are like a sister to me, you have to be strong and brave. You have to find the courage to accept this situation as it is, Filo. You must!"
I began fussing with the tassels on my shawl. This was all so much to take in. I grasped my hands together as if I was going to pray. But thinking of that devil, Crudele, I felt no urge to say the words of any prayer at all.
Little did I know that Nunzi had more shocking news in store for me.
We sat in silence for a bit longer. When Nunzi next spoke, she lowered her voice a little. "I don't know if you are ready for this Filo, but I know now what your baby's name is."
My hand flew to my chest. I held my breath. Waiting. "Oh Mother Mary, what name is my beloved son going to have?"
Nunzi waited, watching me. Finally she spoke. "Are you sure you are prepared to hear their name for him?"
I shook my head up and down. In reality I wasn't ready, but I knew I would never ever be.
"His first name is Pasquale."
I exhaled. "Oh that makes me so happy," I said, feeling tears bubble up. "He is named for Easter, the Pasqua! The spring holiday. Such a blessing, the resurrection!"
Nunzi cleared her throat. "Yes, it's a lovely first name," she said. "Very hopeful." She cleared her throat again. "But...
"But what?"
"But they gave him a surname as well."
"Yes, I guess they said that would happen. And what is it?" I was excited, because I loved his first name so much.
"I hate to tell you this Filo," she said. She set her hands over her eyes and forehead. "They are calling him, Pasquale....Pasquale Orzo."
My mouth dropped open. At first I was thinking I had heard wrong. "Madonna mia, how could they..." I shook my head back and forth. "How could they name him after a...pasta....a macaroni...and such a SMALL ONE at that!?"
Suddenly I felt a flood of anger. "How dare they!" I fumed. "Such an insult, such a humiliation! And I have such a beautiful last name, Scrivano, I am furious..." I stood up, suddenly I could imagine myself going to the municipal office and screaming at them, "He is a Scrivano, don't you know, a proud name, a proud history, we come from a lineage of scribes!"
Nunzi rose with me. She circled her arms around me. "Oh my dear Filo I know," she said. "It's heartbreaking. They are making a fool of him for life with that name. I saw with my own two eyes the secretary to Stefano...Maria is her name, I saw her laughing, that beast, as she wrote down the name on his birth certificate..."
"No, no, no, Filo, please calm down," Nunzi said, laying a hand on my arm. "Please. Don't you dare think about going there! Don't you understand that officially, you are never supposed to have a moment's contact with your son again? Don't you see? We have to be very, very careful about all this, what we do..."
I made fists with both my hands. Of course Nunzi was right. But something in me was coming alive. "Somehow, some day, I promise you, as God is my witness, I will restore dignity to my son."
"We will pray for that Fi," Nunzi said. "But now we have something urgent to do. Please let's not dally any longer. We must hurry to get the baby and bring him up to Amantea today!"
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