“Did you hear? She turned him down!” At the village fountain the shocking news of Camilla’s refusal flowed like the water. Some shook their heads in disbelief; others nodded their approval of a true virgin’s fears. In the chapel, Teresa, her longed-for wedding feast fading, knelt in ardent prayer, asking guidance for her friend’s obvious confusion. A gleam in her eye, Antonia chuckled, washed her luscious mane, began preparing her father for the inevitable visit she was convinced Giovanni would now be making to her door, while Giovanna, with no hope whatsoever, went about her daily chores, pretending the excitement over this village romance had no effect on her.
Giovanni was furious. He had come home to get himself a woman to look after him, and by God he’d find one before the boat sailed! It no longer mattered who she was, as long as she was suitable. Precious hard-earned money had been laid out for a wife’s passage, and by all the saints in Heaven, he was going to have one by sailing time!
Camilla no longer came to the piazza to seek the shade; neither did Antonia. One was in disgrace, locked in her room for shaming her father’s given word, the other primped and paced, waiting for that expected suitor. Of course, Giovanni’s sisters were far too upset over their brother’s big trouble to even think of lace.
Alone, Teresa and Giovanna worked in silence. Their bobbins bounced but missed their usual friendly accompaniment. Anchoring pins to form the sunburst points of her collar, Teresa broke into their concentration, “Giovanna, isn’t there something we can do to help poor Camilla? I mean besides praying—which you don’t ever do anyway. I feel so sorry for her. Why wouldn’t she be frightened—and I don’t even mean having to marry, be WITH a man as a wife, that’s scary enough but to have to leave all you have ever known—brave storms and unknown hardships and THEN, even if you manage to get there alive, savages scalp you?”
“You are as bad as Camilla. Shipwrecks and savages. Really! I don’t know where everyone gets these silly ideas. First, how can he work in a big factory that makes wonderful motorcars that hundreds of people are able to buy if there are savages running around scalping everybody?” Fascinated,Teresa looked at her friend in amazement. “Yes, it’s true. He told me about it. Oh, Teresa, I would go! I don’t believe what people say, not even that all the streets are paved with gold, but I know why it is called the Land of Opportunity. Because everything is possible there, for everyone, no matter where you come from. I wouldn’t care if I had to cross the most dangerous oceans in the world just to be a part of it! That’s what I wan … wanted to tell him …” Giovanna stopped; she had almost blurted out what she was still too ashamed to admit—even to herself.
“Giovanna, do you hate it here?”
“Hate? Oh no, not really. Anyway, you always say that hate erodes the soul, so I wouldn’t dare.” Teresa smiled, knowing her friend was stalling, trying to find an answer to a question never asked her before. “Maybe I’m just different.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a longing—a feeling of wanting more, something more than this—” Giovanna’s arm swept the air as though encompassing her small world. “Well, haven’t you ever longed to get away … see new worlds … learn … become somebody … ?”
Teresa looked up from her pillow. “To serve God is the greatest adventure of all.”
“Oh, Teresa! Will you really? Are you sure? To spend your whole life on your knees in meaningless prayer, how …”
“Giovanna, don’t blaspheme!! For the sake of your soul—not mine—you mustn’t!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. It’s nonsense, all of it—just a lot of nonsense.” Giovanna’s tone held a finality. Teresa, eyes lowered to her pillow, murmured, “I shall pray for you.”
A tense interval of conscientious work, then, in a voice that still held a hint of her irritation with Divinity, Giovanna asked, “Teresa—tell me—haven’t you ever felt lost?”
“No. Never!”
“I do all the time. It’s like I don’t really belong … anywhere. Sometimes when the feeling gets really bad, I think, What if there really isn’t anywhere for me? And then I wonder what will become of me if that is so. But I must try—I have to—AND I’m not like my mother, truly I’m not!” Giovanna swallowed a threatening sob. Teresa reached out, covered her friend’s hands clenched in her lap, stilling their agitation with her touch. Lace forgotten, they sat, watching the perimeter of their shade. One lost, seeking peace at any price; the other content having found, without search, all that was necessary. In the cool of early evening, they walked home together. As they parted, Giovanna, in a rush of courage, confessed, “Teresa, I asked Giovanni to take me. Oh, I know it was a shocking thing to do and, of course, he was furious. But I had to … I just had to try. And now, what do you think? Can I ask him again?”
“Oh, dear!” fluttered an uncertain Teresa. Cast down to bare human need, completely out of her element, she said the first thing that presented itself. “Well, if you have already done it once, why not again? Who knows? Mamma always says, ‘Men are very peculiar.’”
Giovanna kissed her cheek and ran.
The sisters, putting their heads together and agreeing on all important points, went in search of their brother. They found Giovanni in the blackest of moods, sharpening an axe in their father’s toolshed. Courageous Celestina was the first to speak. “Giovanni, we, your sisters, have come to speak with you on a most delicate matter which we consider of utmost importance.”
“So please don’t get angry at us.” Confrontation made Gina nervous. Being politely beautiful she considered much more advantageous.
“And please, stop this noise and”—Celestina held up a hand—“don’t speak, because if I am stopped now, I’ll forget what we thought through and agreed to say!”
Giovanni glowered at the two girls … If they said one thing in defense of that stupid Camilla, he’d murder them.
“Well? What’s so important?”
Looking at her sister, making sure one last time that what had been decided between them still stood, Celestina took a deep breath and plunged, “Gina and I think you should consider Giovanna Zanchetta!”