The Garden of Monsters

by Lorenza Pieri

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “What do you mean nothing? You call me from the kitchens for a ‘nothing’ when we have thirty-five second courses and their sides on order?”

  He gave her a kiss on the forehead.

  “I just wanted to tell you that you’re still the most beautiful of them all.”

  She smiled.

  “Have you been drinking or is there someone at the table who you like but not enough?”

  “I like you.”

  She smiled, took the cap from his hand and stood up lightly on her tiptoes to kiss him on the mouth.

  “Go sit down, go on, that’s better.” And she returned to the kitchen with her chest all warm and a childish contentment. She needed so little.

  He took two more bottles of Morellino and uncorked them before returning to the table. One of the corks broke in half, and he pushed it regretfully into the wine.

  Before dessert, Sauro, who was once again on his feet, wrangling bottles, saw a blue Fiat Uno police car in the distance, parking next to the Mercedes that belonged to Giuliani, the short, hairy lawyer who was always making speeches that were so old-fashioned and retrograde that Annamaria had nicknamed him Dirty Old World, which was what everyone now called him behind his back.

  The marshal came out, alone.

  This was not a good sign: it meant that this wasn’t a passing patrol visit, as often occurred; he’d come for a particular purpose.

  Sauro carried the bottles to the table and went up to meet him before he came onto the terrace. The police, what a nuisance and what a false note, their uniforms of linen and coarse silk. They knew each other well, they addressed each other informally.

  Sauro gave the marshal his hand and with the other slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Giuseppe, what are you doing in these parts? Everything’s in order with our permits, right? We’re not due for an inspection.”

  The marshal withdrew his hand and gave him a fake smile that was not necessary. He assumed a rigid and serious pose; he could control everything, but not his Neapolitan accent.

  “Sauro, I don’t want to disturb you, and I see that you have people here. But I need to tell you something important before you hear it from someone else. My colleagues in Albinia have arrested Saverio, your son.”

  Sauro turned pale.

  “What the fuck did he do?”

  “Barbiturates and other hard drugs. Significant quantities, for distribution, not for personal use.”

  “Thank you, Giuseppe, thanks so much for coming to tell me this in person. You’ll see that they’ve made a mistake, we’ll clear everything up.”

  “Sauro, they haven’t made a mistake. There were three boxes in his car. And it’s impossible that he didn’t know what he was transporting because he had hidden it well, in the spare tire well. Don’t count on error. Better for you to call a good lawyer as soon as you can.”

  Sauro went back to the table, his hands shaking. He looked at his fellow diners without hearing their words. He tried to smile, nodded, kept pouring wine and chewing on his cigar, inhaled. Time seemed to stand still, the courses continued to arrive on the table, Chiara had begun to write on her placemat, making strange notes around the grease spots. He saw Luca Sanfilippi, the same age as Saverio, next to a movie producer, his destiny already on the table. While talking with the producer, Luca was looking past him, because the CEO of RAI was behind him, with whom he would have been even more eager to chat. His eyes were always and only aimed at whoever could benefit him. A born opportunist. Whereas Saverio, on the other hand. It wouldn’t have been such a bad thing either, his impending fate; he needed to become more diplomatic and to put in a certain amount of effort, to work on being nice to people, the way Sauro had done. His son was an asshole. He had raised an asshole without a scrap of gratitude. He couldn’t wait for everyone to be gone, so he could tell Miriam, they’ve arrested your son for dealing drugs, now try to tell me the poor kid is such a good boy. Because it was clear, if there was anyone who had spoiled Saverio, sparing him any notion of effort and work, it was his mother. When the mascarpone mousse arrived at the table, Sauro had to raise his eyes and look at the sea, breathing deeply, to smell the brackishness in his nostrils, hoping the urge to vomit that was rising in his gorge would subside. He lowered his gaze, it fell again on Luca, in his light-blue shirt with the numbers on it, a salmon-colored sweater thrown over his shoulders, laughing at the jokes of the man beside him, repeating over and over, “You’re a titan, you’re a titan. And as the mythic Molteni says, life isn’t worth living if you don’t live it in the most extravagant luxury.”

  The screenwriter asked Sauro, “Do you feel all right? You look pale.”

  Sauro revived. “I have a slight headache. It must be all that sparkling water.”

  He closed his eyes and breathed. He tried to think of the last time he’d felt happy. It seemed to him that it had been a long time ago, in Giulia’s arms, that bitch who was always right. His life and his family’s life were even worse than she’d described them. She was bad luck. He began to think that Saverio’s arrest was her fault, that maybe she’d been the one who reported him, to punish him. His mind was spinning out of control, he blamed it on the wine. It wasn’t the first time he’d had obsessive thoughts when he was drunk. To distract himself he mentally said a Hail Mary.

  While the diners were leaving, a few at a time, the sun was veiled with a mesh of orange clouds and then disappeared. After he’d said goodbye to everyone, Sauro rushed into the kitchen to Miriam. He called her outside and gave her the news, but as soon as she raised her voice, he turned his back on her. “We’ll talk about it at home,” he said, adding: “Come immediately. I don’t want scenes in front of all the people.”

  Once they were home, they would be free to shout, to hurl mutual accusations at each other: a mother who had spoiled her son versus a father who had denigrated him, insulted him, diminished him, and left him on his own. The grandfather was drunk, he laughed and repeated his stock anecdote about his grandson. “Saverio? I’ve known it since he was little—that one hunts for death like an old snake. I would have put my hand in the fire when he was five years old and sworn that sooner or later he’d end up in jail!”

  “As far as I’m concerned, it could only do him good to spend a year in there,” Sauro added.

  Miriam burst into tears: “You’re a breed of men who have no heart, no heart, and no hope! How can you talk like that? We have to help him, and immediately.” She shouted again: “And immediately means immediately!”

  Annamaria, silent until that moment, had gone up to her mother and passed her a piece of paper with a phone number on it. She’d said that Saverio had called some time before, leaving it for her. He had warned her, “Give it to Mamma and to no one else.”

  Miriam had taken the number and called it without knowing who she would find at the other end of the line: police headquarters? The prison? The police? Andrea from the gym?

  A female voice answered.

  “Hello . . . I’m Saverio’s mother.”

  “Who are you calling for?”

  “I don’t know . . . Saverio left me this number and said to call.”

  She learned that the girl on the other end of the line was named Barbara and was a lawyer.

  The exchange was quick, Barbara knew everything, she’d also been able to talk briefly with Saverio. She knew that the quantity that was found was fairly substantial and risked a very high sentence. She was worried, even though Saverio was a first-time offender. She’d said that Saverio wanted her to be his lawyer. Miriam asked her how old she was, then hung up, after saying she would call her back very soon. She didn’t. She was thirty years old. Too young.

  She turned to Sauro, whose eyes were red and whose breathing was labored.

  “I’m sorry, Sauro. Let’s try to ca
lm down. We lose our tempers over nothing, but we simply have to reflect and to take action; it makes sense that you would be angry and that I would be beside myself, but you know that as parents we want to be useful. This time, at least, we have to act for the best.”

  She tried to hug him; at first he drew back, but then he let himself be embraced. He stayed in her arms two seconds then raised his head. “Miriam, I think I’m going to throw up.”

  He went to the bathroom. When he came out, she called him into the kitchen for a cup of chamomile tea. Sauro said he was going to go lie down for a moment. She rejoined him in the bedroom with the tray and the cup and sat down on the side of the bed. His eyes were closed. They stayed like that for a minute, not moving.

  Then Miriam resumed the discussion.

  “You know, we can do something. What are all those important friends for if they can’t help us at a time like this?”

  “No fairy tales, Miriam, what kind of question is that?”

  “The question is, what were we licking the asses of all those powerful people for if, when we need them, they won’t give us a hand? Your partner is a deputy, thick as thieves with a load of magistrates. Can’t we think about asking for his help at a difficult moment?”

  Sauro sat up in bed.

  “Who licked whose ass? Make me understand.”

  “You, we, have fawned over your parliamentary friends, lawyers, even judges, dozens and dozens of times. What for? Explain it to me, for what? Disinterested friendship? Maybe on their part, yes, given that they found themselves spoon-fed in a beautiful place like ours. But us? What have they done for us? What do we get from these people? I see how they look at me, you know? At most they feel a little pity for me.”

  “Pity? What are you saying? It’s work, Miriam.”

  “Unpaid work is not work.”

  “Unpaid? What are you talking about?”

  “About my work, of the hundreds of meals cooked for the sake of friendship, out of love for you.”

  “Again this talk of free meals! You might as well include the ones you cooked for the children, I suppose. Do you want us to tally those up, too? Of the baby food pureed and the diapers changed? Because if that’s what you want, say so. There’s no such thing as love, there’s no such thing as friendship, unpaid work is all there is. But I can tell you, the reality is that the people you’re talking about pay. And pay well, too.”

  “What in the hell does what I do for the children have to do with it? You know very well what I’m talking about. And let me tell you something: everything I do, I do for the children. And if you, on the other hand, are not interested in their lives or their futures, then tell me once and for all, and I’ll deal with it on my own.”

  Sauro screamed, “You’ll deal with it on your own, will you? To ask favors to save the ass of a delinquent son? A fine example of a mother you set. Know that they will never do a favor for you, because you don’t count for shit, Miriam! You should go back to the kitchen before you really make me furious.”

  Miriam threw the tray with the chamomile tea to the floor. The cup shattered, and the boiling liquid spread across the tiles. She left the room with the keys of the minivan.

  Sauro didn’t stop her; he was sure she would go to Grosseto to try to find Saverio at the jailhouse.

  Miriam breathed in the damp night air. She turned on the engine at once, but she lingered a while to collect herself. She needed to catch her breath. The night was very dark. She was going to Filippo Sanfilippi’s house.

  She found him there, surrounded by the accoutrements of a man who’s enjoying the solitude of his country house: a fire in the fireplace, jazz on the turntable, an armchair, whiskey, a cigar.

  Surprised by the visit, he made Miriam welcome and instantly brought her a glass of water, seeing that she was distraught. He was almost certain that it had to do with a discovery of infidelity; he would have to defend his friend and deny being in on whatever affair it was, which up to then he had always concealed without remorse.

  “Excuse me for barging into your house like this, but I need to talk to you about something pretty urgent.”

  Filippo decided the best strategy would be to offer a solution before the problem was revealed. “If it’s about Sauro, Miriam, I must tell you one thing. He loves you. A lot. There’s no argument. He might have made mistakes, of course, he’s not a perfect man, none of us is. He might be a dick sometimes, you know that better than I do, but I can assure you that he would never, never do you wrong, or . . .”

  Miriam trembled; she no longer even tried to control her manner of speaking, as she’d always done in front of the Sanfilippis.

  “Shut up, right now. The problem isn’t how much he loves me. And I don’t even care, sincerely. I’ve lost count of how many years it’s been that I’ve known that he cheats on me . . . I don’t even want to think about it. ‘He loves you he loves you’ . . . yeah, he loves me, that bastard. But the problem isn’t me. The problem is that he doesn’t love his son. Saverio is in a mess now and he doesn’t want to help him, do you understand?”

  “In a mess? Does he need money?”

  “No, Filì, we’ve got money. He’s been arrested. Something to do with medicine, illegal medicine, some kind of drugs.”

  “Dealing? But when?”

  “We found out a few hours ago, I think it happened in the early afternoon.”

  “Shit, but what in hell was he thinking, with all the advantages he has here . . .”

  “If only Sauro had given him a chance.”

  “It seems to me that he was the one who didn’t want that.”

  “Filì, dammit, let’s not have a trial now over who could do what, and who wanted what. I need your help, now.”

  “But in what sense?”

  “In the sense that you know everyone, you know how to make things happen, you even go sailing with the police chief. I know that with one phone call from you, Saverio would find himself free and with a clean criminal record.”

  “Miriam, calm down, you’re too agitated. Let’s wait to find out the charges first, then I’ll put you in contact with the lawyer Giuliani, he’s the best, have you met him? That short guy . . . he’s even got mafiosos acquitted, he’d be able to make Bokassa look innocent. Hopefully it wouldn’t take much for him to sort out Saverio. I’ve heard that for first-time offenders there’s some leniency. Now, try to stay calm and we’ll talk to him in the morning.”

  “Filì, you haven’t understood me. That Giuliani? That man will ruin us all; if we call him, in two hours even my aunt will know what happened. I don’t want there to be a lawsuit, I want this gotten rid of and erased. And it should be clear that I’m ready to pay whatever is needed.”

  “Miriam, maybe you’re forgetting the fact that I’m a politician, and putting pressure on a police chief is just not something I can do. At the very least that would be undue influence; if there’s money involved, it’s bribery. You know how much I care for you, and Sauro, and also for Saverio, but understand me. I can’t. My position does not permit me.” He lowered his eyelids and dragged deeply on his cigar. It was a moment in which he could flex his personal power, and it gave him enormous satisfaction.

  “Listen, Filippo: in my opinion, you’re making it more complicated than it is. It seems to me that you can do much, much more than that.”

  “Darling, thank you for your high opinion of me, but I’m not a big shot, you know,” he said with little conviction. “I’ve never done anything illegal, and to put my position and reputation at risk for the shit your son has gotten himself in would be bad for me in a lot of ways.”

  “Tell me you wouldn’t do it for Luca.”

  “That’s different, and Luca would never get into shit like this.”

  “Because he will never need to. Your son will always have a smooth path.”

  “Maybe because we raised him we
ll?”

  “Maybe because that was guaranteed from the moment his ass was born, let’s say.”

  “Listen, Miriam, if you want a favor from me, it would be wise to ask me in a different manner, and not to make me feel like the privileged, unjust man that I am not. The last thing we need is for you to lecture me while you’re asking me to corrupt someone.”

  Miriam lowered her eyes, more convinced than ever that the Sanfilippis were assholes. But it was clear to her that she was taking the wrong tack.

  “Forgive me, Filì, forgive me. I’m very distraught. And I need to resolve this situation as soon as possible. In the meantime, the news of the arrest must not get out, OK? I know that the first thing journalists do is call police headquarters. This thing must not get into the papers. And that’s also in your interest, if it gets out in a headline like they do, tomorrow at the newsstand we’ll see: Son of local noted businessman arrested for drug dealing. And the name that will appear right after ours, as business partner, will be yours.”

  Miriam lit a cigarette. She leaned her head against the back of the armchair. The same one where Sauro had leaned back in desperation in front of Giulia. She had a disturbed and sensual air. Filippo had always found her attractive. He knew that at this moment he could have asked her anything. He chose the thing that interested him most.

  He told her, “I’ll call the editors of the local papers, Il Tirreno and La Nazione, I know them both very well. We’ll invite the two of them to lunch, immediately,” and disappeared into his study.

  Miriam finished her cigarette. She was happy with what he was doing. She thought that, deep down, Sanfilippi was an idiot, too, and that she’d only have to push a little more on the subject of his reputation as a partner to get him to call the police chief, too.