Prisca's Miseries

Chapter 3

Marino Municipality

Winter

30 January 1981

9 am

A new respect for Roz slipped into Prisca’s eyes. She had seen him with his father before, but couldn’t marry the he who had been and the he who was now, for time had irrevocably changed him: he’s a successful businessman in his own right, tall and broad-chested. He in the company of three men in blue tuxedos and dark sunglasses had come on a visit to her father, who was leaning on the balcony, catching a view of the rays created by the morning sun with his beady eyes.

She quickly took her gaze off him and beckoned to Alessia, her bosom friend, whose hair was so full that it sprang free, flowing down her back like a celebration. She called it a crown of glory.

“Does my father know you are here?” she asked Alessia.

“Why did you ask that question?” Alessia retorted, giving her a suspicious look.

As she could not provide an answer to the question, she shifted her attention to the folded newspaper beside a bottle of Vodka on the stool beside her. The headline on the front page of the old newspaper fascinated her, so she picked it up to catch a glimpse of what the detail was. It was the news about the freight train from Milan that ignored a red light and crashed into a train full of passengers that were headed for Liguria, with 63 passengers falling victim to the accident.

She was familiar with the scene of the accident and wondered why such would happen.

“There’s more to this that the newspapers aren’t reporting. Things don’t just add up,” she said.

She flipped through the pages of the newspaper, scouring them to get more interesting stories. When she couldn’t find any, she resorted to bickering with Alessia, and the latter was very much ready to give her the way she wanted. She was careful with her choice of words while at it, for she didn’t want to sound offensive. Alessia would later ask her, with the way she was staring at Roz when the latter was on his way to the balcony, whether she was interested in going out on a date with him or having anything illicit to do with him.

She would deny it, but Alessia would insist. When she perceived her friend wouldn’t give up, she gave in. After all, it was her opinion. Whatever she made of it was hers. It was just that she got pissed off each time she mentioned it, though she never showed it. She just couldn’t wait for the conversation to be over and done with. Alone with her thought, she could search her heart whether or not what Alessia said was true. But as of now, she couldn’t feel a thing for him, let alone in the future. Though she might have stared at him, it was done out of respect for his personality, not out of affection for him. She was apparently not ready to be emotionally attached to anybody at this moment in time.

She stared into the glass in front of her, completely oblivious to what was going on around her. Alessia stood talking to her, arms akimbo. But when she realised her friend wasn’t responding, she knew, instantly, that she was fighting a losing battle.

***

After Roz entered the building, he told San Tata, “I came, not because I wanted to, but because of the respect I have for you.”

“Well, you’ve shown how kind-hearted you are by honouring my invitation this morning. It’s been long we saw each other,” San Tata said.

Roz bowed his head, a gesture showing how much he respected him.

“I saw what you did,” San Tata said.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Roz said, shaking his head.

“I saw what you did to the five men,” San Tata repeated, this time around sounding convinced.

It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he had to do it anyway. They had accused him of monopolising the business in Marino and threatened to expose him if he refused to do their bidding. They had successfully impounded some of his goods, but before they planned to take him out, he outsmarted them, seeing to it that they all paid with their lives on the same day.

“How else did you expect me to go about it?” Roz asked.

“Cut the crap, Roz! You are a self-sabotager,” San Tata said. “That’s why you cut me off like that. And now this, just because you think the world revolves around you.”

“Now you have to suggest some pills for self-sabotage virus,” Roz said. “That’s unfair.”

“What’s unfair?” San Tata asked.

“You would have done the same if you had been in my shoes.”

“And now that I am not in your shoes?”

Both of them were so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. But San Tata was quickly able to snap out of it.

“Come,” he said, smiling mischievously as Roz moved closer. “My girl out there is yours for the taking, provided you don’t want me to nail you for what you’ve done.”

San Tata left him to think about it afterwards. Somebody he had watched blossom into a young beautiful lady over the years. It felt improper asking her out. At first, he felt San Tata wanted to use her as bait for something he couldn’t place his hand on. But on second thoughts, he felt it was a win-win for the two of them. Perhaps that was his thinking. Perhaps not. He looked out of the window and saw Prisca staring into her glass, a lady beside her standing with arms akimbo.

There was nothing wrong with her, he thought. For him, she had complete knowledge of herself, of who she was. He felt a gathering frisson, a sense of secret excitement. He could feel she had a sense of something closer, but couldn’t figure out what exactly it was. For a long time afterwards, his memory of Prisca was this: speeding.