Stella Mia

by Rosanna Chiofalo

  I blush at Tomaso’s compliment. “Grazie. It is nice to meet you, too.”

  “I’m sure you will be comfortable here. Are you certain you cannot stay longer than two nights, Carlo?”

  “Yes, I will be starting work in Lipari the day after tomorrow.”

  “Work? And at another hotel? Did your father disown you?” Tomaso laughs.

  “Not yet, but I’m sure he will when he learns I have struck out on my own.”

  “I see. That is commendable of you to want to forge your own path, Carlo. Nothing wrong with that. Well, here are the keys to your room. I will let you get settled. Of course, let me know if you need anything. Enjoy your stay in Vulcano. Arrivederci!”

  I am too focused on the fact that Tomaso gave us keys to just one room to return his farewell. But what did I expect? I wouldn’t want Carlo to spend money on two hotel rooms. Perhaps there are two beds in the room, but I’m too embarrassed to ask Carlo.

  We arrive at our room, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see there are two twin-size beds in the room. Though I want to show my love fully to Carlo, I’m still frightened of what my first time will be like. I guess I’m not as ready as I thought I was recently.

  We drop off our belongings and use the restroom before heading back out. I take my bag, but empty it of some of its contents.

  “Should I pack my swimsuit so that we can go to the beach directly after eating lunch?” I ask Carlo.

  “Yes. This way we don’t waste any time. I’ll take the towels in the bathroom. We can get more later.” Carlo looks at his watch. “I want to go to the volcano early before it gets too hot. We can rest on the beach after lunch. Va bene?”

  “That’s fine.”

  Carlo gives me a light kiss on the lips. “Sei perfetta, mio angelo.”

  “I’m not perfect nor an angel!” But I’m delighted by his endearments.

  We make our way back to the shops in town. After buying hiking shoes, we head over to a grocery store to buy water.

  “Ah! Cioccolato!” Carlo picks up a small box of chocolates. “We’ll need these to give us some strength after climbing to the top of Vulcano della Fossa. You’ve had Baci chocolates, right?”

  A memory flashes through my mind of my father’s bringing home a box of chocolates for my mother one year when it was her birthday. I was no more than four or five years old. That is the only memory I have of him doing something nice for her. I remember the box was a dark blue like the one Carlo is holding. My mother had secretly shared her chocolates with me out of fear that Papá would be insulted she was giving them away—even to her young daughter. The chocolates were heavenly.

  “Si. They are quite good. But it has been a long time since I had them.”

  “Let’s buy two boxes then!”

  “How will we carry all those chocolates and our water to the top of the volcano? It’s too much, Carlo!” I laugh.

  “I’ll take the chocolates out of the boxes and keep them in this paper bag. Don’t worry. I’ll carry them, and besides, we’ll be eating them as we hike. The load will be light in no time!”

  “Signore, would you also like to purchase tickets to the tour of Vulcano della Fossa? I can give you a discount,” the store’s clerk asks Carlo.

  “What time does the tour depart?”

  “In five minutes.”

  Carlo shrugs his shoulders. “Why not? It’ll give you a chance, Sarina, to learn more about Vulcano.” Carlo pulls out his wallet and pays for the tickets.

  A few minutes later, we’re with a small group of tourists and a man who is our tour guide. He’s short and probably in his sixties. He wears navy blue shorts and a white button-down shirt tucked into his pants. A white canvas hat and sturdy-looking black hiking boots complete his ensemble. His arms and legs are deeply bronzed. I also notice his calf muscles are well-defined. No doubt from all the hikes he’s taken up the volcano.

  “Gather around, please. Mi chiamo Fulvio. I will begin giving the tour while we hike. This way, once we are at the crater, you can relax and enjoy the scenery as well as take photographs. If anyone has questions for me, I am happy to answer them, but please wait until after we reach the volcano’s summit.”

  “Fulvio must love to hear himself talk,” Carlo whispers to me. I give him a scolding look and silently mouth “Shhh,” but I can’t resist laughing softly.

  As we make our ascent, I’m grateful Carlo thought to buy the hiking boots. The ground is quite pebbly, and the higher we get, the steeper the incline becomes.

  “Ah!” Carlo slaps his forehead. “I knew I was forgetting something. Sometimes it can get quite cool at the top, especially in the morning. We should’ve bought sweaters at the shops, too. I guess we will have to keep each other warm.” Carlo leans in close to me as he says the last sentence. My stomach flutters. And then I remember how we will be spending the entire night alone together in the same room. True, we already spent a night together when we slept on the beach in Castelmola. But this feels different, more intimate, perhaps because of the hotel room’s small quarters.

  “Attenzione, per favore!” Fulvio shouts for attention as he directs his gaze toward us.

  Carlo and I giggle, but remain quiet for the duration of the guide’s history on Vulcano, which I’m actually enjoying and finding quite fascinating.

  “Vulcano was known to the Greeks as Hiera or Holy Island and can often be found in mythology whenever there is a reference to the Aeolian Islands. In The Odyssey, Ulysses came to Vulcano, which was supposed to be the gateway to Hades, or the underworld. The Romans named the island in honor of Vulcan, the god of fire.

  “The island was formed from the fusion of several volcanoes. Vulcano della Fossa is the largest of these volcanoes. It is still active, but it hasn’t erupted since 1890. Its crater, which we will be seeing once we reach the top, is known as Gran Cratere, or Big Crater for you tourists who speak English.”

  Fulvio then goes from speaking Italian to speaking English as he diverts his attention to an older British couple.

  “Do the other volcanoes have names?” one of the Italian tourists asks Fulvio, who looks miffed not only because his discussion with the British tourists has been interrupted, but also since a question is being asked now rather than at the summit as he had instructed us to do.

  “Si. We have Vulcanello to the north. Monte Aria, which is inactive, and is especially popular with geologists, and Monte Saraceno.”

  Fulvio goes on to talk more about the island of Vulcano in general. Carlo has been handing me Baci chocolates along the way. Since the last time I ate them I was so young and did not know how to read yet, I hadn’t realized that each chocolate was wrapped in a little love note. Every time Carlo hands me a Baci, I stop listening to our guide so that I can read the love note. Deciding to save the notes as a memento of this trip, I put them in my bag.

  While the Baci chocolates are even more delicious than I remember, they’re making me quite thirsty. But we only have so much water, and I’d rather wait to drink since we also have to make our way back down from the crater. Fulvio told us at the onset of the hike that it would take about an hour and a half to reach the top. He mentioned hikers who are in very good shape can make it in an hour, which I can’t imagine right now, for I’m feeling quite winded.

  It’s also getting dusty from all the sand that we’re kicking up. Carlo insists I drink more and tells me we are nearing the summit. I stop to take just a couple of sips of water. Carlo waits with me. We let Fulvio and the rest of the tour group go on ahead without us, but no one seems to notice. Soon, I hear several elated cries of joy. No doubt, they’ve reached the top of Vulcano della Fossa and are amazed by Gran Cratere.

  “Dio mio! That man sure can talk.”

  I laugh. “Let’s go see what all the excitement is about.” I elbow Carlo’s side playfully. He jerks away.

  “You know how ticklish I am yet you delight in torturing me.” Carlo gives me a quick hug. We join the rest of the tourists, walking with our
arms around each other’s backs.

  My breath is taken away when I see the landscape before me. It looks like the photos I saw last month in a Taormina newspaper of the American astronauts who had landed on the moon. The volcano’s crater has the same craggy, gray surfaces as the images of the moon. As we approach the crater’s edge, we see clouds of white smoke billowing from its opening.

  “I forgot to talk a little about the fumaroles. The smoke that you are seeing is coming from what’s known as fumaroles, openings in the planet’s crust often found near volcanoes. The smoke is from gases and steam that are being emitted from the fumaroles. The steam is created when water is heated to extreme temperatures, and the pressure suddenly drops when it is released from the ground. As you can see, the smoking fumaroles add to the crater’s dramatic appearance.” Fulvio smiles as he looks at the scene before him with obvious admiration.

  I would think that after all the times he’s been up here with his tour groups, he wouldn’t be astounded anymore. Then again, this is an incredible sight that probably never ceases to amaze.

  “This is magnificent, Carlo. Thank you for taking me here. I love it!”

  “I’ll never forget how amazed I was the first time I came here. Let’s get closer and look into its depths.”

  Carlo keeps his arm protectively around me as we lean slightly to look over the crater’s edge.

  I shiver a bit staring into the abyss. Carlo notices and pulls me back slightly.

  “Afraid?”

  “It’s just a lot to take in, but no, I’m not afraid. I’m more in awe. I can’t believe how much it looks like the moon from the pictures that the American astronauts sent back.”

  “Yes. Just think of it this way, Sarina. I’ve taken you to the moon—well, the closest you can get to the moon on our continent.”

  “I like that. It’s kind of romantic. Let’s pretend we are on the moon and this is our new home.”

  “Okay,” Carlo laughs.

  A few hours later, we’re relaxing on the Spiagge Nere. Just when I think that Carlo can’t shock me anymore with the sights he’s introduced me to, he does it again. The Spiagge Nere features black sandy beaches! I had never even heard of beaches with black sand. Carlo told me there are several in the world.

  “Is it my imagination, Carlo, or has it gotten extremely hot in the half hour that we’ve been here?” I fan myself with my floppy straw hat.

  “It’s the black sand. I should have thought of that. We’re approaching the middle of the afternoon, the worst time you can be on any beach, but especially here because of the black sand.”

  “This might be a good time to go to those mud baths, Carlo.”

  “Let’s go.”

  I pack up our belongings as Carlo folds up the lounge chairs and umbrella we rented.

  It’s easy to find the Laghetti dei Fanghi, for all one needs to do is follow the stench of the sulfur.

  While Carlo pays for our admission, I walk closer to the mud baths and watch the tourists bathing. Most of the tourists have covered their faces with the mud. It is a bizarre sight, and listening to the different languages being spoken only adds to my feeling that I am on another planet.

  Carlo joins me after paying for our admission. “Ready?”

  I take off my long skirt and halter top. Carefully, I step into one of the little lakes of mud. It’s quite hot, but immediately the sensation relaxes my body, especially once I fully submerge myself. If it weren’t for the odor of the sulfur, I could probably fall asleep.

  “Ah! This is the life. Are you feeling better, Sarina?”

  “I am. Visiting the attractions on Vulcano has helped to take my mind off of everything else.” I can’t even say “my family.” My heart tugs whenever I think about them.

  “Good. Hey! Look over there! What’s that!” Carlo’s voice sounds alarmed as he points off in the distance. I follow his finger. Then I feel something mushy and hot hit me in the face.

  “Got you!” Carlo laughs as he gets ready to throw more mud at me.

  Before he can do so, I quickly sling up some mud and hit him in the mouth. He spits it back up, coughing.

  “Oh, Carlo! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in the mouth!”

  But just when I lower my guard, he throws more mud at me. We continue throwing mud at each other, laughing the entire time, until we’re out of breath. When we finally stop hurling mud at each other, we notice many of the tourists are looking at us with disdain. But we don’t care.

  “You know what’s after this, right?” Carlo asks.

  “Siesta? I’m getting quite sleepy.”

  “Shopping!”

  “I brought enough clothes with me, and I’m sure you did, too.”

  “Did you bring a second swimsuit?”

  “No. I don’t own a second swimsuit.”

  “So we are going shopping then. You’ll understand why when we shower the mud off ourselves.”

  “Must you always be so mysterious, Signore Conti?”

  “Don’t call me that. It makes me think of my father.”

  But Carlo is smiling. We head over to the outdoor showers and rinse the mud off. I now see why we must buy new swimsuits. The mud has discolored our suits.

  “If I’d known that my swimsuit would get ruined, I wouldn’t have gone into the mud. We bought this suit only a month ago in Taormina.”

  “The new swimsuit will be my gift. Besides, every woman should own more than one.”

  “Thank you, Carlo, but I can’t let you keep paying for me. I have money.”

  “And I am rich.”

  “But you don’t know if you will ever see the rest of your inheritance.”

  “I have plenty of money in the bank. And now I’ll be making more at my new job in Lipari. We’ll be fine.”

  Since Carlo has continually asked me to place my trust in him, I will. I only wish I could be as confident as him where our future is concerned. Perhaps it’s my upbringing that has made me more cautious—or perhaps it’s my intuition that the gypsies taught me to rely on.

  It’s midnight. Carlo and I are getting ready for bed. While Carlo washes up, I climb into my bed and release a deep sigh as my body sinks into the downy mattress. The bed I shared at home with my siblings was so flat from the weight of all our bodies in it. My back often hurt when I woke up in the morning. Within minutes, I’m drifting off to sleep, but just as I begin to dream, Carlo nudges my arm lightly.

  “Sarina, are you asleep yet?”

  “I was. Is something wrong?” I look up into Carlo’s face. He looks slightly nervous.

  “I’m sorry. I thought you hadn’t fallen asleep yet. I’ve only been in the bathroom for five minutes.”

  “I guess I’m exhausted.”

  Carlo nods his head. He then kneels down on the floor beside my bed. He strokes my hair.

  “You know I love you very much?”

  “Si. And I love you very much.” I sit up in bed and lean forward to kiss him.

  “I have thought about this probably since the first day I met you, if you can believe it. But I wanted to make it more special. However, circumstances are forcing me not to waste any more time.”

  Carlo takes my hand and slips a braided gold ring onto my finger.

  “Sarina, I want to make you my wife. But I want to give you a proper wedding first. I was thinking maybe in a month, we can do that. Of course, it would just be a small wedding, but I still want you to get married the proper way in church and all. We can go back to Taormina or even Messina and get married there. As I’m sure you realize, we cannot sleep in the same room without people gossiping that we are sinning. I told Michele, my friend in Lipari, who gave me the job at his hotel, that we had eloped here in Vulcano. Besides people talking, I was also afraid that Michele would not have felt comfortable having us share a room. His hotel, the Villa Athena, is one of the most popular hotels in Lipari and is almost always fully booked, sometimes even in the less popular winter months. I wouldn’t feel right taking
an additional room away from him when a guest could be paying for it. So we will have to pretend that we are already married. While we must play this charade, please know that I absolutely do intend to and will make you my wife as soon as we have become more settled in Lipari. That is, if you’ll agree to be my wife.”

  I can feel Carlo’s hand shaking while he holds mine. I close my own over his. Tears fill my eyes.

  “I can’t believe you want to marry me. I would be honored to become your wife. But . . .”

  Carlo’s face registers surprise as he frowns. “But what?”

  “I feel I’m still too young to marry. And so much is still unsettled in our lives. Can we have a long engagement?”

  Carlo kisses my hand. “Well, yes, I suppose we could. But I must admit, I can’t wait to make you mine. I understand, however, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you feel you need more time.”

  “I am yours already, Carlo. Getting married won’t make me any more yours than I am now. You have my heart.” I reach over and place my hand on his cheek.

  “You’ve made me so happy, Sarina. I just feel that marriage would bring a certain legitimacy to our love.”

  “I know what you are saying. But my heart also knows it must be right. I don’t want us to rush to get married because we’re afraid of what people will say if they find out we’re not.”

  “I realize that, too. That is why I said we can wait until next month. As for what you said about being too young, Sarina, you aren’t.”

  “Yes, I know. My mother was only fourteen when she wed my father. But again, she had no say in the matter. She was just a child. I am only a few years older than her. I have always vowed I would never make the same mistake she made.”

  “So that’s what this is about.” Carlo pulls away from me and looks off to the side.

  “Don’t be mad, Carlo.”

  He sighs. “It’s just . . .” His voice trails off as he lets out a deep sigh.

  “What? You can tell me.”

  “I sometimes feel that you cannot let go of your past and just focus on us and the blessings you now have in your life.”