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Revelations of the Ruby Crystal

Page 39

by Barbara Hand Clow


  “You know what, Armando?” she said, lighting another cigarette instead of eating a cookie. “I’m a tough broad. I either always was or my experiences with you made me into one. Either way, life is what teaches me. Yes, I wish things had been different, but we can’t change that. Every day brings new surprises, today especially.”

  37

  Via Lombardia

  When Claudia called Simon and Sarah to say she urgently needed to meet with them, Simon’s first reaction was annoyance. He was busy interviewing people about the pope’s resignation and the upcoming conclave when the cardinals would gather to select a new pope. Romans gossiped without restraint about Vatican insiders, and the world was rife with rumors about who would be chosen. Oh well, maybe Claudia will be a good distraction. Sarah knew Claudia wouldn’t ask right then unless it was important, so she offered to make Simon’s favorite dish if she could invite Claudia for dinner. He came home early that night, poured a bourbon on the rocks, and said in a mildly irritated voice, “I suppose it’s about that damned Armando?”

  “I don’t know, but she is our friend. If she needs to talk about him, I don’t think we can refuse.”

  “Of course not,” he grumbled as he kissed her. I’m tired tonight; might as well be entertained by two gorgeous women, he thought as Claudia rang from below. Simon pushed the code to buzz her in. In came Claudia looking very serious and flushed by the chilly wind. She sat down on the couch and Sarah gave her a glass of Chianti and brought out a tray of cheese and crackers.

  “Hi, Claudia,” Sarah said. “Nothing fancy tonight, just home-made lasagna and salad.” What is so urgent? Could one of her parents have died or something?

  Claudia smiled sweetly at Sarah. “That sounds delicious and also very grounding in light of what I have to tell you. I have forgiven Armando, and my bitterness has faded; I can hardly believe it!”

  Simon planted both feet on the floor, staring at Claudia. Shifting her gaze to Claudia, Sarah said, “You know that I haven’t told Simon anything about things you’ve said about Armando?”

  “Well, I wasn’t sure about that, Sarah; however, we don’t need to go there because it doesn’t matter. Simon, let me put it to you this way for the sake of conversation: Armando was very sexually abusive with me when I was young, which isn’t hard to imagine considering what he tried to do to Sarah.”

  “That’s for sure,” he grumbled. “So you’ve forgiven him for that? Why?”

  “He has been in analysis with Lorenzo Gianinni for over ten years, and he finally had a breakthrough a few months ago. I began seeing him as a friend after that.” Simon interrupted her with a wry expression as he clicked his glass on his lower teeth. “I don’t suppose this occurred at the end of the Mayan Calendar?”

  “Well, yes, it did. But your skepticism will not divert me.” Claudia explained what Armando had told her about being regressed by Gianinni and asking God for a dream to show him why he was one of the damned, and his eventual realization that he had been abused.

  “He told me that Matilda says in those days nobody knew these things happened. No one could imagine a priest doing something like that to a little child, so things were suppressed. Armando thinks an evil possession was implanted in his body when he was only seven. I believe him because now he is sensitive and kind; he is a completely different person, the one I used to see below the surface and always hoped would come forth.”

  She stopped, only now noticing the tears filling Sarah’s pained eyes and Sarah’s hands clasped so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. “Oh, how utterly devastating,” Sarah said. Simon looked at the floor with a furious and panicked expression on his face. He got up and went to Sarah, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Another one. How are we going to make the world better when so many children are broken so young?”

  Sarah couldn’t speak, so Claudia continued, “I look at this differently. Armando went on living for more than thirty years with that corrosive pain eating him alive. He projected his venom on others, especially on me. Yet now that we know about the pervasiveness of priestly sexual abuse, he realizes it was not entirely his fault because he was so young. Most importantly, now that he knows what happened, he feels he can transform the demonic force. Actually, he’s getting his feelings back by exploring the dark side in his art.”

  Claudia could tell Simon was still skeptical, so she kept talking. “The abuse has been rampant since the fourth century when the Church became possessed by power, yet back in 1980 nobody would have believed him. He suffered terribly because nobody realized what was wrong with him; even Matilda was paralyzed. They couldn’t find words for what was wrong because it was unspeakable. They could not access their trauma! This is changing because the truth is out, and you have made a real difference, Simon. Things are getting better. When you hear what happened to Armando, how does it make you feel? Now that you know about this, can you forgive him as I have? Can you forgive him for what he did to Sarah?”

  There was a long pause while Simon and Sarah absorbed the enormity of Armando’s story. Claudia stared at the gas flames. Sarah wanted Simon to speak first because she’d forgiven Armando long ago. She had always sensed that despite his actions, Armando needed her compassion and even her friendship. Friendship was her highest aspiration. Simon worked so hard that he had few friends, only colleagues. Actually she worried that he would miss out on the thing she most greatly valued, true friends. Ten silent minutes passed. Then Simon cleared his throat and spoke in a grave voice. “This is terrible, just terrible. I wonder if any Catholic is unscathed by this plague. I’ve never met Armando, so I can’t judge the depth of his character; I can only form my opinions based on what I’ve heard about him, which isn’t good. Since you’ve come into my life, Sarah, I find myself reflecting on how lucky I was to have the childhood I had. Nobody did anything like that to me, so I didn’t get angry and take pain out on others. Nobody did anything like that to Sarah, so we are both very fortunate. Apparently something happened to Sarah’s father with a priest when he was young, which is confidential, Claudia.” He pointed his finger at her with a warning expression. Claudia felt slightly insulted. Who did he think she would tell? “This has created its own set of difficulties in his personality and life; yet he did not take it out on others.”

  “I’m still unsure that someone can change as quickly as you say Armando has. And his own hurt does not excuse how he hurt both of you. If he is willing and able to truly change his life and to try to liberate the women he hurt by sharing the realization of the source of his own pain, I can respect that. But I think trust needs to be built, and that you should be careful, Claudia.”

  Sarah was watching Simon with a distinct look of pride. “Simon,” she said slowly and thoughtfully, “you do not fail me. Your willingness to extend kindness does not surprise me. I loved Armando, but not in the way I love you. I think I was often able to experience the man hidden beneath the monster, which is why I can more easily believe he could transform. His parents are special people, and I believe he is special too. Your response gives me hope. The world is so dire that we must forgive each other and extend a hand to the lost ones. That kid who murdered all the children in Newtown was isolated, lonely, obsessive, and probably possessed. I think he struck out against children to appease his inner torture. Something must have happened to him when he was in the first grade that slaughtered his inner child. Maybe if just one person had reached out to befriend him, maybe then the children would still be alive.”

  Ready to move on from that subject, Sarah caught Claudia’s eyes and smiled. “Claudia, I’m pregnant! I’m due this fall, although sometimes I think we are completely crazy to bring a child into this world. But I am hopeful, and what would the world be like without our child?”

  Claudia leaped up to hug her. “Oh, I am so happy for you! You two will have the most beautiful baby! I will be Aunt Claudia!”

  Sarah held her at arm’s length and looked into her eyes. “I know what Armando did to you,
and I don’t want anybody else to ever have to experience that. The minute you told us you forgave Armando, I could see the horror was gone for you, simply gone; you are really different, lighter and less sarcastic. Something entirely new is happening now. People are pushed to the wall, which makes many troubled and violent. Yet, the opposite pole—truth and healing—is expanding. I’ve never heard of an evil man like Armando finding his way back. But each person does have a choice as long as they are alive. Our will is the thread that can save us.”

  “I agree with you.” Claudia said. “We seem to be mired in radical darkness amid extraordinary breakthroughs. I’ve carried this horrible pain for twenty years and suddenly it is beginning to fade. Who would imagine Armando would free me? I thought I’d take this angst to the grave with me. I’ve never stopped loving Armando. But as he got worse and worse, I couldn’t bear his pain anymore.” She turned to Simon to reassure him. “I do not intend to go back with him because I’m happy the way I am. Unlike the two of you, I like being alone. I think Armando is happy just painting for now. Besides with his genes, he should find a woman to love and have a family. Now that he’s gotten through this, I think he could be a great father.”

  Casting a glance at the front door of the Hotel Hassler as he hurried by, Simon saw a sleek wealthy woman in a lynx coat walk in wearing gold spiked heels. The greed scale sure is going up. The wind was bitter on the Via Sistina, so he rushed along until he reached the Via di Porta Pinciana, and then he went on to the corner of the Via Lombardia, the corner with high walls surrounding the Pierleoni house. After Claudia had told Armando of their conversation, Armando had asked if Simon would meet with him. After some thought, Simon had agreed. He had to admit; he was curious about the man and also his famous home.

  Noting the large garden behind the red wall, he assumed it must be part of a convent. Nobody had space like that in Rome. On the entrance on Via Lombardia, however, he noticed a worn family crest with a standing leopard mounted on a blue-and-red checked background above the garden gate. That’s a Sienese contrade crest, and the Pierleonis live near Siena. Maybe that’s their garden, wow! The high garden walls merged into the corner edge of a very dour red sandstone two-story house. The windows on the first floor were laced with iron bars on the diagonal that tricked the eye. Are those medieval leaded windows? Nah, they’re barred, have to be on the first floor in Rome. The upper windows were shuttered with louvers latched from inside. The entrance was menacing with thick-cut stone columns that supported a carved lintel that ended in two snarling griffins with bulging eyes. An elaborately tiled stone family crest was displayed between the two griffins glowering down at Simon as he pulled the iron door loop. The door was thick, worm-eaten, and encrusted. This certainly is an imposing house, almost threatening. It looks like it’s more than five hundred years old! His reporter persona was on high alert.

  The door to the Pierleoni mansion creaked open, and the antiquated manservant led him through a fantastic great room. The two-storied stone walls were draped with exquisite Belgium tapestries; the Italian authenticity of the house enveloped him sensually. This should be a museum; everybody should see this house. The shriveled old man with paper-thin skin led him into a large library where a great fire roared at the end. Multicolored leather and gold-embossed books glowed in the firelight. The room was one of the most grandiose yet welcoming that Simon had ever seen. It was clearly the heart of the house.

  A handsome and very elegant dark-haired man in an emerald green blazer stood by the fireplace. He stepped forward to take Simon’s hand. “How kind of you to come, Simon; I am honored and deeply touched.” Simon took his hand, feeling its delicacy, the hand of a serious painter. His teeth are as perfect as a string of real pearls; I’ve never met anybody like this. I can see why Sarah was drawn in by him. If he hadn’t attacked her, it would have been hard to resist his offer of marriage. The life this picture-perfect guy offers is every woman’s fantasy. She could have become royalty!

  Armando had looked forward to meeting Simon, yet he was also very apprehensive. He certainly could see why Sarah had chosen Simon, a very good-looking and obviously fascinating man. He’d expected a tweedy and rather dull New York intellectual, not the intriguing, sophisticated man in front of him. He looked deeply into Simon’s eyes and detected potent magnetic focus. He hoped this would not be too difficult.

  “Thank you, Armando,” Simon said tentatively. He felt disarmed by Armando’s palpable femininity shrouded within potent sensual masculinity, a quality he’d noticed in a few other seasoned European men. “I didn’t think we’d ever meet, but now the occasion has come. Your home is wonderful, spectacular, as I’ve always heard. Amazing to be able to live in a house like this in Rome these days!”

  “Yes,” Armando replied, wondering where to begin. He decided to just reveal himself, his usual way with women but a technique he rarely employed with another man. “The most wonderful thing about this ancient house is walking down hallways and being in rooms where twenty or thirty or more generations of my ancestors have lived. It is very comforting, an experience very few have. It is my great joy, yet also it isolates me from most of humanity. Of course, you can imagine all the things that have happened in this house over so much time in Rome! It has been a garrison, a brothel for cardinals, and the center for my family.”

  Armando brought his hands together. “Well, we both know what the real subject for this visit is, so without further ado, shall we talk about things? Lunch is ready for us any time, and would you like tea or coffee now?”

  “Yes, coffee please.”

  “And congratulations on your marriage, you are most fortunate.”

  “Thank you; I am indeed fortunate. Ironically, even with all this family protection,” Simon said accepting a cup of coffee that the butler produced almost instantaneously, “still you were not safe?”

  Armando nodded. “Yes, that is true, especially since the clerics have always preferred picking off the children of the rich. Parents sent their beautiful adolescent daughters for spiritual counseling to bishops who seduced them. Little boys who got too close to the altar were ravaged. You have written about it, so you know. I have read your articles, and I very much admire you. Also you have given me more than a few laughs with ‘Between the Sheets in Roma.’ You are all the rage in Rome. Did you know?”

  Simon smiled in acknowledgment of the praise. “That’s good to hear because it will keep me employed, but may we stick to the subject? Now that Claudia has told us about your breakthrough in analysis and your recall of being abused when you were a small child, I am trying not to be angry about what you apparently did to her and tried to do to Sarah. As you can imagine, I’ve had nothing but contempt for you until now; in my mind you were a monster.” While he said this, he was using his journalist’s eye to look Armando over.

  “Well, yes, Simon, I was a monster. If I ever told you about some of the things I’ve done, you would leave the room. You would never be able to get over your anger over what I did to Sarah. I assume you know that I hurt other women too, and I plan to apologize to every one of them if I can speak to them. It will not be easy to arrange that, but maybe I could see them if I brought my mother or someone they trusted. Today, I ask your permission to meet with Sarah to apologize to her. We had deep feelings for each other, and I need this last chance to be alone with her.” Armando was watching Simon’s darting eyes very closely, noting little wrinkles appearing on his forehead.

  “That’s not really up to me, but before I answer that,” Simon said in a measured tone, taking a sip of coffee to get some space. “May I ask you some questions about what happened to you? As you know, I’ve covered the files on priestly abuse thoroughly and interviewed countless victims. You don’t have to worry about confidentiality, and I would not be interviewing you for the press, only for my own understanding. Sarah is fond of your family and she is willing to forgive, I want to understand what happened to you and how it has affected you.”

  “Simon
, you can ask me anything, and I will answer as best I can. However, I have little comprehension of what happened to me.” He rang a little high-toned bell and paused as sandwiches and cold vegetables appeared and were put on the table between them.

  “All right, good,” Simon said as he bit into a chicken salad sandwich wedge. “What do you know about the priest who abused you when you were seven? Were there rumors about him in the parish? Did you notice any other children he might have molested?” This made Armando think for a moment, absently tapping a celery stick against his plate.

  “Well, come to think of it, and I’ve never thought about it until now, there was one thing I noticed. I went to the rectory one day before anything had happened to me to deliver some cookies. When I walked into the back hall, a door slammed hard. I heard furniture scraping and a frightened cry; I didn’t know what to make of it. It made me feel bad, so I left the rectory. Maybe he was doing something in there. My mother sensed something was going on so she had him sent away. She could do that because of our family. I suppose he got sent somewhere else and kept doing it.”

  “It is incredible, isn’t it?” Simon remarked. “They were like weapons aimed at little children because the hierarchy protected them.” While he spoke, Armando looked into Simon’s eyes, noticing the deep blue flashes in dark brown, a captivating animation. “Now that you know what happened, does it still hurt? When you remember the scene, does it retraumatize you? Many of the victims I’ve spoken to have problems with flashbacks.”

 

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