The Scent Of Rosa's Oil (12 page)

Rosa shrugged.

“Did you see him?” Madam C asked Margherita.

“No.”

Madam C turned to the other girls. “Did you?”

A few girls shook their heads, others said no.

Madam C put on her angry face. “I bet he left when Margherita started to read that silly poem.”

“It’s not a silly poem,” Rosa said. “It’s beautiful.”

“Maybe,” Madam C mumbled, “but it sent Cesare away. I wanted him to stay a little longer. Who knows when I’ll get to see him again.”

“Watch out,” Stella whispered in Maddalena’s ear. “She’s in a really bad mood now.”

“What happened between her and the mayor in the past? Do you know?” Maddalena whispered back.

“Nothing,” Stella replied, “other than paid sex. The gossip has it that she would have liked for something more to happen.”

Soon the party crowd began to thin out. At the door, Madam C and Rosa bid the guests good-bye. When everyone was gone, Madam C gazed about the parlor. “What a mess,” she sighed, pointing at the dirty dishes, glasses, ashtrays, empty bottles, and half-empty food plates. Then she yawned. “Let’s clean up some. We’ll do the rest tomorrow.”

It was past midnight when everyone left the parlor and went to sleep. Gingerly, Rosa opened the door of her room and peeked in. The mayor was still asleep, curled up in a fetal position, his breathing calm, on his face a half smile. On tiptoes, she opened a closet and took out the pillows Madam C had lined her bed with when she had been born. Set on the floor, they made a perfect bed for the night. Still in her white dress, Rosa lay down on the pillows and fell fast asleep.

At eight-thirty in the morning the sounds of pots and pans and Santina’s high-pitched voice woke her up. It took her a moment to remember why she was on the floor. When she did remember, she glanced worriedly at the mayor, who was still sleeping. He hadn’t changed positions since midnight. As if nothing had happened, Rosa stepped into the kitchen and said, “Hi.”

“Good morning,” Santina said with a big smile. “How does it feel to be sixteen?”

“The usual,” Rosa replied with a yawn.

Margherita, who was helping Santina with the dishes, noticed that Rosa was still wearing the white birthday dress. She said, “I’m glad to see you liked our present.”

“Did you have a good time last night?” Madam C asked, coming in from the parlor.

“I did,” Rosa said. “Thank you for the party.” She approached the sink and began rinsing plates.

“Let’s make sure it’s all clean by this afternoon,” Madam C said. “We’ve got business coming.” She turned to Margherita. “Two Portuguese ships anchored last night. We’ll have plenty of visitors by four o’clock.”

Santina, Margherita, and Rosa continued to rinse and dry for a while, while Madam C in the parlor emptied ashtrays into a paper bag. Shortly after nine o’clock there were frantic knocks on the door.

“Your Portuguese sailors are in for an early treatment?” Margherita scoffed, joining Madam C in the parlor. The two of them opened the door. It was Roberto Passalacqua.

“I’m sorry to bother you so early,” he said nervously. “Have you seen the mayor?”

Madam C and Margherita stared at each other with surprise. “The mayor?” Madam C said. “He was here last night.”

“Where is he now?” Roberto asked.

“I have no idea,” Madam C said. “Why?”

“I can’t find him anywhere,” the young man moaned, almost in tears. “He had a meeting with Theodore Roosevelt this morning at nine and didn’t show up. I’ve been looking for him all over. His wife says he didn’t come home last night, so I thought I’d see if he”—he stopped to take a breath—“stayed here.”

Margherita shook her head.

“Believe me,” Madam C said, “if he had spent the night at the Luna”—she pointed a finger at her own chest—“I would know.”

“This is terrible,” Roberto whined. “The American delegation is at City Hall, waiting. What am I going to do?”

The three stared at each other for a moment. Then someone coughed behind Madam C. It was Rosa. “I think…I know where he is,” she said hesitantly.

“You do?” Madam C said.

Rosa nodded. “I’ll show you.”

They followed her through the parlor and the kitchen to her bedroom door. “Don’t get mad at me,” she said before opening the door. “It wasn’t my fault. He fell asleep, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“What are you talking about?” Margherita asked.

Rosa opened the door with a sigh.

I
t was on the lips of every man and woman in town: the mayor had ditched Theodore Roosevelt in order to spend the night in a brothel. On top of that, he had shown up at City Hall at nine forty-five in the morning, when the American delegation was leaving, in crumpled and disheveled clothes, without his glasses, hungover, and still reeking of the prostitutes’ odor. The gossip didn’t stop for days, fueled by the fact that a number of people had actually seen the mayor rush out of the Luna that morning:

“What a disgrace!”

“He embarrassed us in front of the whole world.”

“Can you imagine? Explaining to an American president that the mayor was asleep in a brothel?”

“I told you men can’t give up that habit.”

“They say his wife left him.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Maria Elena Cerutti had indeed left town two days after the incident and moved to Tuscany, where her family owned a country estate. Immediately, the city council met behind closed doors, led by the vice-mayor. Concurrently, the president of the Liberal Party called an emergency meeting. Both the city and the party asked unanimously that Cesare Cortimiglia resign and he complied. Roberto Passalacqua cleaned out his former employer’s office at City Hall and brought everything to Cesare’s home. He found the man seated on the floor of his living room, hands wrapped around his stomach, shirt wet from his tears. Roberto thought he looked a hundred years old.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Roberto said, patting Cesare’s shoulder to console him. “There are other things you can do besides being mayor. And all your wife needs is time to get over this mess. She’ll forgive you, I’m sure.”

Cesare looked at him with spent eyes. “That’s not why I’m crying.”

“Then why?” Roberto asked.

Cesare sobbed, “I’m in love with Rosa.”

At the Luna the atmosphere wasn’t great, either. When Madam C had walked into Rosa’s room and seen Cesare Cortimiglia naked and asleep, she had turned to Rosa in disbelief. “What is he doing here?” she had asked in a loud, angry voice. Her words woke up the mayor. He rubbed his eyes and stared inquisitively at Margherita, Madam C, Rosa, and Roberto, who stood around his bed and stared back at him, as stunned as he was.

“I’m s-sorry,” Rosa stuttered. “I…played the game.”

“You played the game?” Madam C screamed. “Are you insane?”

“Mayor,” Roberto said in a worried tone. “Theodore Roosevelt is at City Hall waiting for you. If we get out of here in a hurry, we can still catch him. Come on,” he said, shaking the mayor’s arm. “We need to go!”

Without talking, Cesare sat up, pivoted to his left, and came wobbling to his feet. He gave a long look at his clothes, spread like stains all over the floor. “I’m coming,” he said in a rasping voice. Slowly, he picked up his wear, got dressed, and glanced at Roberto, Madam C, and Margherita. Then, his foggy eyes stopped for a long moment on Rosa.

“Let’s go!” Roberto urged, pushing him out of the bedroom and toward the front door of the Luna. They spoke no words as they rushed out into the street.

Meanwhile the silence in Rosa’s room was glacial. Margherita, Madam C, and Rosa stood by the empty bed looking at each other, still as marble statues. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Madam C saw on the nightstand Cesare’s briar pipe. She snatched it, then grabbed Rosa by the arm and dragged her through the kitchen and the parlor door. “What have you done, you little slut?” she screamed.

Rosa broke into tears. “I just wanted to show you I’m old enough to play the game,” she said between sobs. “You’re hurting me. Let me go!” Freeing herself from Madam C’s hand, she ran upstairs and locked herself in Margherita’s room.

“Come back down here!” Madam C shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

“Calm down,” Margherita told Madam C. “Let me go up there and find out exactly what happened in that room.”

By then all the Luna girls were out of their quarters. “I knew it wasn’t a good day for Rosa’s birthday party,” Stella said once she found out the cause of the commotion. “Fire and hatred. Hatred and fire.”

“Open up,” Margherita said, knocking on the door of her own room.

“I don’t want to see Madam C ever again,” Rosa said, sobbing, on the other side of the door.

“It’s just me,” Margherita said softly. “We need to talk.”

Still in tears, Rosa unlocked the door. “Let’s have a seat,” Margherita said. “Tell me. What happened last night?”

“I played the game with the mayor,” Rosa explained, taking Margherita’s hand. “I took off my clothes, and he took off his.”

“Now,” Margherita said, looking Rosa in the eyes. “Think carefully. Did he put his penis inside you?” She pointed to Rosa’s vagina. “In here?”

“No. I…touched it. And held it in my hand. And then he fell asleep.” She broke into tears again. “What’s the big deal? Don’t all you girls do that night after night?”

“We do, darling. We do.”

In the parlor, Madam C could not calm down. “Where is she?” she kept screaming.

“In my room,” Margherita said, coming down the stairs, “and very upset. Nothing happened last night, other than petting. So don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Don’t make a big deal?” Madam C screamed. “She seduced the mayor and had sex with him!”

“So what?” Maddalena questioned her. “We all agree that she’s not a child anymore. Maybe she needed to explore.”

“Why don’t you get mad at him?” Stella said. “He’s the one who took advantage of her.”

“I will, you can be sure.”

“So why are you so angry at Rosa?” Maddalena asked.

“Because!” Madam C yelled.

Rosa appeared at the top of the stairs.

“There she is,” Maddalena said, walking up to her. “Come down here, Rosa. It’s all right.”

“It’s not all right!” Madam C shouted, turning to Rosa with burning eyes. “What did you think you were doing?”

Rosa remained silent.

“I told you that the
libeccio
drives everyone crazy,” Maddalena whispered in Stella’s ear.

“It’s not the
libeccio
, dear,” Stella replied. “It’s jealousy. Of the worst kind.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Madam C groaned.

“Nothing,” Stella said.

“Get back to your witchcraft and let me take care of my business!” Madam C screamed in a shaky voice. “And you,” she ordered, looking at Rosa, “come upstairs with me. Now!”

On the third floor of the Luna, in the sitting room, Madam C swallowed a blue pill with water. It was a tranquilizer she took when her stomach felt tight, and it felt like a block of iron at that moment. Her ears were ringing, and her hands trembled like
gelatina
. The pangs of jealousy were clutching her for the first time. She had never objected to Cesare sleeping with other prostitutes, because she knew that he did that for physical pleasure; and she hadn’t cared when he had announced that he was going to take a wife, because she knew that he married to boost his political career. But when she had seen the mayor asleep and naked, and then looking at Rosa with those sweet eyes, and then picking up without objection his wrinkled clothes from all over the floor, it had taken her only one second to understand that what the mayor felt for Rosa was love.

From the doorway, Rosa watched Madam C with her fists tight. “Sit down,” Madam C ordered. “Do you understand what you’ve done?” she hissed. “You disgraced the Luna’s name! The town will be talking about this for years!”

Rosa lifted her head high. “I don’t have to listen to anything you say.”

“I’m your mother,” Madam C yelled. “You’ll listen as long as I tell you to!”

“You’re not my mother!” Rosa yelled back. “Angela is!”

“Angela’s dead, you spoiled little brat! I’m the one who raised you!”

“I wish you were dead,” Rosa said in a cold voice. “So I wouldn’t have to put up with your bossy ways.”

“You…ungrateful bastard. I’m bossy because you’re rebellious.”

“I’m rebellious because you’re bossy.”

“I swear to God,” Madam C said, “I’ll take my scissors and cut your hair one centimeter short!”

“You do that,” Rosa screamed, “and I’ll take everything that’s on your fireplace and break it into a thousand pieces.” She took the hand-painted vase and held it in front of her, ready to drop it. “Starting with this vase!”

“Put it back, you…Put it back, or I’ll kill you!”

“What’s your problem?” Rosa yelled, putting the vase back on the fireplace. “Are you mad because the mayor doesn’t want to play with you anymore?”

Madam C grabbed Rosa by the hair and pulled down till Rosa’s neck couldn’t bend anymore. “I should have killed you when you were born. I should have drowned you in the harbor like a sewer rat! Get out of here! Get out!”

Rosa ran out of Madam C’s sitting room and down the stairs. She dashed through the parlor where all the girls were, then through the kitchen, where Antonia watched her whiz by. “God help us,” Antonia said, making the sign of the cross twice.

In her room, Rosa sat on the bed, crying. A moment later, Maddalena, Stella, and Margherita arrived. After them, entered a composed and cold-faced Madam C.

“You want to play the game?” Madam C said calmly. “Fine. From now on, you’ll be with at least five men every night, like everybody who works in this brothel.”

Maddalena said, “Are you out of your mind? She’s a child!”

“Children don’t take their clothes off in front of men three times their age,” Madam C replied.

“Maybe,” Stella pointed out, “if someone had explained things to her a little better, nothing would have happened last night.”

“Either she works,” Madam C said, “or she leaves.”

Rosa stood up from the bed. “I’ll leave.”

Maddalena, Margherita, and Stella took her by the arms. “No way,” Stella said.

“I think that we all need to calm down,” Maddalena said, smiling.

“I’m calm,” Madam C said. “So”—she turned to Rosa—“would you like me to help you pack or would you like to be on the roster for tonight?”

“I can pack by myself,” Rosa said. “I’ve got better things to do than be a prostitute all my life,” she added with disdain.

“Like what?” Madam C said sarcastically. “Go on a stupid trip across the ocean?”

Rosa approached Madam C till she was only a few centimeters from her face. “You,” she hissed, “are stupid.”

That’s when Madam C lost control again. In a fury none of the girls was able to restrain, she picked up everything that belonged to Rosa—her clothes, shoes, books, and all the objects that were inside the room—and took them to the Luna door. She opened the door and tossed everything outside, in the middle of Vico del Pepe. “You, too,” she grinned at Rosa. The moment the girl stepped out, Madam C slammed the door shut and turned to the Luna girls, who were standing, speechless, in the parlor. “Back to work,” she said, then went swiftly upstairs.

Outside, Rosa stood by her belongings in a stupor. “What’s happening, Miss Rosa?” asked Antonio Donegà, the chimney sweeper. “Changing wardrobe for the season?”

“I guess,” Rosa said, breaking into tears.

“Now, now, what’s going on?”

She looked at the cart where Antonio Donegà kept his cleaning tools. She asked, “Could you help me take my things a few blocks from here?”

“Sure,” he said. “Anything to make a lady stop crying.”

They pushed the cart to Vico Usodimare. “Here?” Antonio Donegà asked, somewhat surprised.

Nodding, Rosa took her things and said good-bye. Through her tears, she looked in the direction of Isabel’s booth. The booth door was open, and Isabel was facing the back wall, working at something on the stove. “Can I live with you?” Rosa asked.

Isabel turned around. “Tramonto? What happened?”

“Can I live with you?” Rosa asked again.

“Of course,” Isabel said with a large smile, her eyes failing to hide the worry that was building inside her. “But first let’s dry those tears.”

Slowly, Rosa walked in and dropped her belongings on the floor. She sat on Isabel’s rocking chair and stayed there a long time, staring at the street without talking. Meanwhile, at the Luna, the girls had made a futile attempt to convince Madam C of her mistake. Then, worried sick about Rosa, Margherita and Stella had gone looking for her all over the neighborhood, while in Madam C’s sitting room Maddalena persisted in her effort to make Madam C see reason. “She’s only sixteen. She experimented. You shouldn’t be reacting this way.”

“I gave her the option to stay and work here,” Madam C rebutted. “She chose to leave. What do you want me to do?”

“That wasn’t an option,” Maddalena argued, “and you know it. Don’t you remember how hard you worked to keep her away from prostitution?”

“Yes, I remember. That’s why I can’t understand why she’s so ungrateful.”

“She’s not ungrateful,” Maddalena said. “She loves you. Let’s go look for her. You and I.”

“Never,” Madam C said. “If she wants to live at the Luna again, she needs to come here on her own and apologize.”

At two in the afternoon, Stella and Margherita ran into Antonio Donegà, who told them he had accompanied Rosa to Vico Usodimare. As soon as she heard that, Margherita remembered the conversation they had had with Rosa about the witch and the vapor. “I bet that’s where she is,” she told Stella. “Let’s go.”

They arrived at Isabel’s booth as Rosa, still seated on the rocking chair, was sipping quietly from a cup filled with hot mint tea.

“Here you are,” Margherita said, hugging her. “We were so concerned about you.”

“I’m fine,” Rosa said. “I live here now.”

“It’s good that you have a place to stay,” Stella said, giving Isabel a look of complicity and a smile. “Do you need anything?”

Rosa shook her head.

“We’ll come to see you often, don’t worry,” Margherita said. “Now we must go back to the Luna, to tell everybody where you are.”

“Don’t tell Madam C,” Rosa said, breaking into tears. “I don’t want her to know anything about me. Not how I am, not where I am.”

Isabel’s flower room became Rosa’s bedroom from that day on. Rosa slept on an old mattress set directly on the floor, surrounded by flowers, fruits, bags full of leaves, and bottles of processed oils. She nourished herself on a variety of vegetable and bean soups, which were the only dishes Isabel cooked and had eaten since the day Francesco Carravieri had died. “Azul used to say that little food is the secret to a long life,” she told Rosa on the evening of their first meal together, “and if the food comes from the earth, so much the better.”