The Garden of Monsters

by Lorenza Pieri

  14. TEMPERANCE

  Protection. Healing. Flow.

  Before Christmas, Giulia, who in the meantime had made no contact with Sauro, Miriam, or Annamaria, went back to the country with her husband. She was dressed more carelessly than usual, her blond highlights showed a visible regrowth of grey, there were dark circles under her eyes. Without the guile she typically used in such circumstances, she asked Sauro if he could come see her alone because she needed to talk to him. “It doesn’t have to be in private, as long as nobody can hear us,” she specified. He told her that in public it might generate even more talk. They agreed to see each other at her place while Filippo was out riding on the notary’s property.

  They sat in the living room, where they had made love so many times. As soon as he walked in, Sauro threw off his jacket and put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her to him for a kiss.

  “I’ve missed you,” he told her.

  She stepped back. “Please, don’t touch me.”

  “Why? It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. Why did you stop coming?”

  “I missed you, too. But let’s not start over. This thing between us hasn’t done anyone any good. And I, unlike you, put my heart into it, and the heart always goes off in uncontrollable directions.”

  “How do you know that I didn’t put my heart into it? Because I’m a man, you think my heart doesn’t work?”

  “No, no,” she smiled, “maybe it just works at a lower register than mine. Lower consumption, lower engagement. It makes everything easier.” She liked so much to speak in metaphors with him. She liked it when he made her talk while he was undressing her. Her words a bass line under their shared excitement. He liked it when she talked about politics, when she discussed complicated things. He would pretend to listen to her while he moved gently inside her, watching her. Giulia would get tired of continuing the speeches, he would ask her, “Explain it to me better,” and then she would talk as long as she could between sighs, until the lectures dissolved into panting, and then into cries of pleasure. But this time she tried to control herself, to be concise and dry.

  They sat down, she on the sofa and he in an armchair, at a distance they’d never preserved when they were alone together. He remembered the times when she had jumped on top of him when he was sitting there. He felt excited. Giulia lit a cigarette and asked him to listen without interrupting her.

  “I have to tell you that what happened to Annamaria involved me.”

  He could not hold back: “Don’t worry about it, it’s water under the bridge. She’s doing very well now. But still, you could have called. As for her, she was used to you bringing her books, maybe it’s not good that you’ve showed no sign of life, but she hasn’t said anything to me about it. I know now that I shouldn’t expect anything from you. Annamaria is a strong girl, and she has plenty of resources, she doesn’t need help or pity. It was just a moment of confusion. At that age that’s how it is. They were making fun of her at school. They called her “the Cowgirl.” A school of assholes, the Classical high school. Annamaria is not depressed and she does not want to die. Miriam and I are watching her closely, and she’s made a great recovery. She likes her new school and keeps getting good grades. Thank you for your sympathy, but when you come down to it, my daughter is none of your business.”

  “Actually, she’s more of my business than you think. I asked you please not to interrupt me. There are a lot of things you don’t know about your daughter. And I think the school has nothing to do with what she tried to do. I love Annamaria as if she were my own daughter, it’s true. To the point that I think that Lisa got jealous of her, of the attention that I was giving her. It seems to me that your daughter has an extraordinary intelligence, sense of humor, and potential—in a certain sense, I always thought it was a shame to see her talents wasted in waitressing and working in the stables.”

  Sauro pulled the half-cigar out of his mouth and leaned his back against the armchair; the color in his cheeks was darkening. It cost him great effort not to reply.

  Giulia raised a hand to stop him and continued. As she spoke, she threw off her shoes and tucked her feet under the cushions. She buttoned an old moth-eaten cashmere cardigan of Filippo’s over her chest.

  “I understood that Annamaria had great admiration for Lisa. She wanted her company, her friendship, her approval. Maybe in some way she would have liked to be like her: I don’t doubt that she envied her beauty. You know how easy it is to have complexes at that age.”

  Sauro clenched his jaw.

  “I wanted them to be friends. I wanted it so much. Even more, I wanted them to feel like sisters, I wanted to be another mother to Annamaria, one who could give her more intellectually . . . than village life offers.”

  Sauro got up and went to pour himself a whiskey.

  “Please listen to me, I absolutely don’t mean to question you or Miriam as parents, I want that to be clear, I just want to tell you how things stand, and where our love for Anna­maria led us. We went down a wrong path, and we didn’t realize it.”

  “Who’s included in your ‘we’? Can I ask you that at least?”

  “All of us who love her . . . because we’ve all made mistakes.”

  Sauro clamped the cigar between his teeth.

  “In short, the fact is that at a certain point, Annamaria started writing letters to Lisa. Beautiful letters, full of confidence and affection. The correspondence seemed like a perfect way to cement their rapport, because they would forge an alliance, they would develop a habit of sharing, just from writing, from reflection. But Lisa never had time to respond . . . You know, with dance, and high school, and everything. So she asked me to do it, basically . . . I started to keep up the correspondence with Annamaria, writing in Lisa’s place. It was nothing, you understand, simple stories about what she was doing, about her days, reflections on school and on boys, criticisms of us parents; I never made up anything, to be clear, these were all true things that she could very well have written herself. And I also tried to reassure Annamaria, to help her have faith in herself, all the advice that you might expect to get from a close friend a few years older. At first Lisa reread what I wrote before I sent it, then she said it was fine with her if I did it all myself. It seemed like such a perfect way to make them communicate. But I’m afraid these letters were written too well; that is, I can’t help writing the way I write, I’m a journalist after all—they led Annamaria to exaggerate her admiration for Lisa and increased her desire for her attention. In short, Sauro, I’m afraid that Annamaria has developed a crush on my daughter.”

  Sauro broke in: “What the hell, Giulia! Apart from pointing out that we’re giving her a shitty life out here, you’re telling me that you made a fool of her, and because of that, my daughter has become a lesbian?”

  She shifted to sit in a normal position and gestured for him to calm down.

  “What are you thinking, Sauro! I repeat, I did not criticize you as parents, and I didn’t say that Annamaria was a lesbian. Very simply, I think that her admiration for Lisa may have gone beyond the limits of simple friendship; at their age they’re still figuring out their sexual identity. And all the same, my dear troglodyte, if it were to turn out that she was a lesbian, there would be nothing wrong with that.”

  “No, of course, there’s nothing wrong with it—my daughter’s a lesbian and yours is a slut, we’re all progressive and modern, right? Nothing wrong with it. You’re not offended, are you?”

  “Sauro, how dare you? Leave Lisa out of it, please, we’re talking about Annamaria. You can simply deny everything, but then how do you explain the fact that she took those pills right after she saw Lisa with Saverio?”

  “Lisa with Saverio? Doing what?”

  “My god, Sauro, is it possible that you’re this out of it? That you’re this naïve? What do you think Lisa and Saverio might have been doing to shock Annamaria to such an exte
nt?”

  “Well, what do you know about it? How in the hell would you know about what happened? These are all figments of your sick imagination, spinning dramas out of other people’s lives. Giulia, you are dangerous!”

  “Sauro, do whatever you think is best, feel free to not believe me. But Lisa told me, and I assure you that she was there. And she also tried to talk to Annamaria, after she came upon her with Saverio. That’s how she found out that Annamaria was jealous of her, jealous enough to regard her encounter with Saverio as a true and serious betrayal. If you don’t believe me, ask your son, given that he was there, too.”

  “All of you are sick in the head, Giulia. You most of all. You think you can come here and act like the boss lady, get yourself fucked but demean me, pretend to be my wife’s friend, while you’re a Judas, pretending to love my daughter while you’re deceiving her, and trying to educate her because your own daughter is a bitch who doesn’t listen to you? Not to mention Filippo . . . he’s less interested in you than in the whinnying of his horse. And your son, who treats you like a dish rag. Obviously, he’s better than mine, because he goes to university, while mine is a poor ignoramus who works in a gym. You didn’t think about educating him a little, too? To give him some of those opportunities you wanted to give Annamaria that country life could not supply? To get Saverio a terrific internship at RAI, like you did for Luca, or a guaranteed spot in Parliament? You don’t need a degree for that, right? It’s enough to know the right people. But it looks like Lisa’s taking care of his education, no? I guess that’s all you people think we men from the village are good for. You women are top-notch, minds and thighs always wide open, all in the family. If your life is shit and your family exists in mutual indifference and falsehood, that’s not my problem. And nobody asked you for anything, you got that? So, the less you meddle in our lives, the better. You know, I feel bad for Filippo, because he’s really a great guy. But you, you . . . I have no words.”

  By then they were both on their feet, red with rage. Giulia screamed with a finger pointed at him, “Sauro, I knew you were crude, but not to this extent! You’re offensive at an unacceptable level. You’re preaching to me? You? Who betrays your wife right in front of her face with a hundred different women, who exploits your daughter as a stable girl and who are always putting down your son even though the two of you are the same, with your father who’s dying of cirrhosis before your eyes, and you can’t be bothered to bring it up with him? You say that Filippo’s a great guy, your best friend even, but you had no qualms about taking up with me—and I’m the Judas? You speak to me of indifference when you’re the prime example of someone who doesn’t give a damn about anyone! Anyone! And you know why? You’re silently ashamed of them because they’re useful to you as servants, but you don’t like having them as relatives. Because you like the rich and powerful better, too, don’t you?”

  “Servants? Servants? You’re the one who democratically despises and exploits servants and Filipinos, you and your asshole children who are even more badly brought up than you are, convinced that they can treat everyone however they like. In our family we work together.”

  “Attack me, but leave my children out of it, please. I do not permit you to judge them and even less to insult them.”

  “Oh no? And then why did you permit yourself to judge and insult mine? Maybe because you’re the boss lady and you know more words than the peasant?”

  “I didn’t insult them! I told you that I loved Annamaria from the bottom of my heart, and my love for her has led to a misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding? A misunderstanding? It very nearly killed someone, your misunderstanding! I can’t help it that I’m a journalist,” he mocked her. “But what right did you have, goddammit? And can I tell you something, Giulia? Because this is what you came to tell me, right? Do you need to clear your conscience? Or am I the only person you aren’t fake to? Did you think you would be embraced, and understood, and thanked, for taking on the burden of giving my daughter the education that her mother and I didn’t know how to provide?”

  Giulia was on the verge of tears.

  Sauro continued: “Know that I believe Annamaria is a thousand times smarter, more mature, and more sensitive than your daughter, and that Miriam does not need to learn anything about being a mother.”

  “I told you because I thought it was important that you knew. And yes, I thought you could understand that my intention was generous and selfless, but instead, you don’t understand dick, unfortunately.”

  “My role is to use my dick, not to understand it.”

  “You’re pathetic.”

  “Don’t you and Lisa ever dare come near my daughter again. Ever.”

  “You know what, Sauro? I really overestimated you. I think my husband did, too, these years, and that we’ve all overvalued this shitty place. We’re good people, unlike you. You can be sure that I won’t set foot here again. I feel bad for Annamaria; it’s true, she deserves better. Lisa and I can go to a lot of places that are much nicer and more interesting than here.”

  “Go where you like, golden cunts. As far as I’m concerned you can go to hell.”

  “A true gentleman, there’s nothing to say. You go to hell. You are nothing.”

  Losing all self-control and without thinking that he would only be confirming Giulia’s opinion of him, Sauro spat on the floor and left.

  She set to work cleaning, washing the glasses, and, even though it was cold, she opened the windows to disperse the stench of the cigar and Sauro’s scent, which shamed her when she smelled them, for having indulged an obsession which now was transformed into fury. She let the air into that house, to which she vowed never to return, and went to take a shower.

  At home, Sauro had found Saverio at the dinner table. He waited until the two of them were alone to speak him.

  “Leave now, Saverio. This is no longer your home. I’ve already told you.”

  Saverio looked at him with a questioning air. “I just came to have dinner with Mamma,” he replied, thinking, “here we go again,” but not understanding why. “What’s wrong, Babbo? Are you pissed off? I thought we’d gotten over that.”

  “I’m furious. Let’s go outside please.”

  As soon as they were outside, Sauro took Saverio by the jacket. “What does that maggoty head of yours tell you, hey? If you ever dare touch a minor again, I’ll turn you in,” he said to his son.

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about Lisa Sanfilippi. You’re a disgrace. Are you aware of what you risk if you’re reported for fucking the daughter of a parliamentarian? And one who’s my business partner, on top of it? Take it out on the girls at the gym, the girls on your rounds, with that pretty girl Tamara. You’re out of control, Saverio. I don’t understand where I went wrong with you, I’m ashamed of everything you do.”

  “Know that that shame goes two ways. Aside from the fact that she’s eighteen years old, which is what she told me, I can tell you that the reality is far from what you think. She literally jumped on top of me. Her. What would happen if I said that you’re fucking her mother? The wife of the parliamentarian who’s also your business partner? Your dear, dear friend Filippo.”

  “What do you know? What are you saying?”

  “Lisa knows all about it, she told me, I know that she found you out. I don’t know why I don’t tell. Mamma could finally leave you. There’s a divorce lawyer who comes to our gym. Threaten me one more time and I’ll give his number to Mamma. Then we’ll see if you talk to me that way again. I will destroy you. And if Sanfilippi wants to destroy you, he has many more ways to do it than I do.”

  “Are you threatening me? Watch out, Saverio. Watch out, because I also know about you. I know that you’re not just a trainer in the gym. And I’m not the only one who knows. In your position I would be very wary of saying ‘I’ll destroy you’ to me
. It’s better you keep out of sight.”

  “The night I wanted to talk to you about Annamaria, you threw me out of the house. She was the one you should have been worried about. Instead you acted like an asshole to me, like now, like always.”

  “Get lost.”

  Saverio got into his car and drove off with a squeal of tires. When Sauro went back in, Miriam asked him what they had talked about, since Saverio had left without saying goodbye.

  Sauro shrugged his shoulders and put his arms around her waist. “I’m tired, Miriam, let’s go to bed.”

  Giulia ran off to Rome on a pretext. On Monday morning she got up early so she could be at the bank the moment it opened, retrieve her diary from the safe deposit box and go to the usual bar. All the mysterious actions she had performed hundreds of times were now coated in a patina of anger and duty. She needed to write a correction, to officially berate herself through the diary.

  She sat at the table by the bathrooms, ordered tea with packaged cookies, and started writing with her head held low, like a Fury, her handwriting narrow and nervous.

  I ask forgiveness, and I hope that one day I’ll be able to pardon myself, even if that seems impossible right now. I tore out the pages in the diary before these ones because they were unbearable even for me. I want to erase that period as if it had been a bad dream. Besides, I’ve now understood that it was an unhealthy dependence, that I was intoxicated, not in love, but drugged. And yet, I felt so euphoric, so unpredictably full of life. A fictional happiness, indeed, like a heroin high. What happened? A midlife crisis, the longing to feel desired, physical needs repressed for too long? Probably. The fact is that Sauro understood my body’s desires so well that I tricked myself, I believed that he’d also understood my soul, that, in all of his coarseness, he’d perceived the truest and most sincere part of me. But it was just a question of skin, something that responds to chemical and physical laws, the scaffolding on which we build castles of sentiment to give meaning to our emotions, or to relationships that seem unjustifiable to us. Is it only us women who do this? Maybe. At the same time, Sauro is right: I wanted to tell him the truth because he was the only person I permitted myself not to lie to. Even if it was a half-truth. I lied to him all the same; if I’d told him what I was truly feeling when I’d lost my mind I would have been humiliated, he would have thought I was crazy. Maybe he would have been right about that, too. I’m crazy, and my life is the quintessence of hypocrisy. Even if I’m right, I still think the same way he does about life. But he does it instinctively, without even knowing—knowledge isn’t necessary for someone who isn’t used to thinking and who acts on his own instincts. Good for him that he can stay laid-back and thoughtless, life will be easier for him. For people like him, who claim to believe in God while acting in the least ethical way possible, there’s confession, absolution, forgiveness of sins, a merciful Madonna like his wife, who always pities your human weaknesses, and who is ready to erase them if you show enough remorse; and then you can start everything up all over again after a little while. Another great advantage that I unfortunately don’t possess: faith. Nor the indulgence of my spouse.