Confession is not betrayal. What you say or do doesn't matter; only feelings matter.
- George Orwell.
The days fly by like leaves in a windy evening, and I once again find myself finishing my rotation at the hospital, Arturo called Eddy during the weekend, he said, and I quote: 'Things aren't moving fast enough on your end, I've purchased a house for you and your wife, when you've sold yours, you can reimburse me' Then he proceeded to rattle off the address and immediately hung up.
I know all of this because Eddy made the mistake of leaving the phone call on speaker when I entered the room.
I deliberately take my coat off as slowly as possible, I don't want to leave, I wish I didn't have to, I wish this moment could last forever. I have to get some of my stuff from the estate, Martha and Eddy are almost finished packing. The moving truck will do its job tonight, so I'm stuck with Sandro tonight.
I can't decide whether I want to face Father or simply let him throw all my stuff away, I know once I say: I do, my room will be.... vacated.
I rest my head against my locker, I want to slam it against it, but I don't. The door to the locker room opens, and still I don't move, Natalie, a third year resident, steps into my line of sight.
"Are you ok?" She sounds genuinely concerned.
"I'm fine, family drama, you know how it goes,"
She chuckles and says: "I heard you're getting married."
Cazzo "I am." I step away from the locker and nod.
"To nonother then Arturo Angelo." I unlock my locker, and with unnecessary force, I open the door.
Turning toward her, I shrug and give her a small smile, "Yeah,"
"I don't remember ever hearing you mention a boyfriend,"
"You know I like keeping my private life private." I take my backpack out.
She laughs and heads to the door. When she's in front of it, she turns around, "Will I at least get an invite?" She jokes.
"I wish," I scoff. "I'm not even in charge of the guest list." I'm not sure if what escapes my mouth is a chuckle or a whimper. Luckily, it doesn't reach her ears, with a final laugh she leaves.
I dig for my phone in my scrubs pocket. As I swing the bag over my shoulder, I don't have time to change, I dial Dick's number. It rings and rings until the call disconnects. He's probably on a quest for Father, maybe stealing something, or gathering information on someone or several someones.
I once again rest my head on the locker door, I don't want to go to the estate alone, not without someone in my corner.
I'm afraid of what I might do...
Of what he might do.
I hate admitting defeat, but today, I'd rather lose than die.
Lose a battle to win a war, some might say.
I scroll through my recent calls and click on the only unknown number there. Taking a deep breath, I press the call icon.
He picks up on the fourth ring. He doesn't say a word, though, and neither do I, I can only hear breathing from the other end, as I'm sure he does as well.
"Alexandra, are you ok? Are you hurt?" He says.
"I'm fine." Just do it already, Alex. "I need to ask a favor of you,"
"Favors come with prices."
"I am completely aware of that,"
"Go on then,"
"I need to go to Father's house for some of my things, I was wondering if you could maybe be there?"
"I'm currently in the middle of something. When are you planning on being there?"
"I'm leaving right now, so I'll be there in like an hour, hour, and a half, maybe?"
"I can't promise you anything, but if I can make it, I will. Just stay away from your father. "
I sigh, I swallowed my pride, and it meant nothing. "Very well, thank you anyway." I'm about to hang up when he speaks.
"Alexandra" A pause, "I thought you didn't want to be protected. What changed?"
"Nothing." I press the red icon.
I hurry out of the hospital. When I'm nearing the exit, a pair of footsteps joins mine. I look straight ahead.
In the parking lot Sandro finally catches up to me, he opens the SUV's door for me and then slams it shut once I'm in, when he's out of campus and on his way to my loft, I say: "We're going to Father's estate"
"Did he..." Before he can finish, I interrupt him.
"Why do I have to keep repeating myself with you?" That shuts him up.
I pull out one of my textbooks and ignore him the rest of the way.
*******
Once again, Santiago opens the door before I have the chance to shoulder it open, "Father?" I ask him.
"In his office" He says without looking at me, I debate whether using the other set of stairs, but they're too far away from my room, so I silently climb up the stairs, avoiding where the stairs creak, Sandro cant give me that simple grace, I think he deliberately steps on the old spots.
I'm going to kill him.
I can hear voices coming out of Father's office, but I quickly round the corner and head into the farthest side of this wing, Dick's and my room are the most secluded ones.
I know for a fact that when Dick moved out, he left a few boxes in his bedroom, so instead of opening the door to my left I open the one to my right, it's the first time in years I've been inside this room, the only things left are the mattress and its frame, a chest of drawers and the night table.
It looks bare, almost as if no one ever lived in here, a thousand different images assault my mind, and the roar fills my ears, not all of it is good, not all of it is bad.
More times than I can count, Dick and I hid under this very bed so Father would not find us, but once we thought it was safe and left the room and he found us, the price to pay was higher.
But I can also see a six year old Dick running away with one of my stuffed animals and me chasing after him.
I blink rapidly, realizing the doorknob is still in my hand, and the step I was trying to take died just inside the threshold, I glance down, beside the door there's a bunch of neatly stacked boxes. There's only six, I don't think I need them all, but still, I grab the whole pile and close the door in front of me.
I smile because this whole empty and neat room does not exude Dick.
Opening my door, I step inside my room. "Stay here," I say, and without looking back, I slam the door in Sandro's face.
I glance around the room, the bed is pressed against the wall, right under the window, on the wall to my right there's a standalone wardrobe, a couple of feet away from it is a desk, and on the other wall there are several bookshelves, there aren't nearly as many books as they used to be. I quickly get to work, glancing around the room, I only want to take with me what holds good memories.
One of those things is my stuffed animal collection, I know it might seem stupid, but Eddy bought me those toys, and when Dick would visit me in London he would always bring a stuffed animal so the first thing that goes into a box, is my big ass collection.
The biggest box is filled with all of my books. It's going to be rather hard to carry. I rummage through the nightstand's drawers to see if there's something I might need, there's a music book I didn't remember I had, one of my several rosaries, and a case for my glasses, I open it, this one doesn't have the compartment for my contacts, that's why I left it.
Grabbing a marker, I proceed to label the boxes: Books, Random Shite, Stuffies.
That's three boxes, I don't need the clothes or the shoes, I'm just gonna leave them all here. Something on top of the nightstand catches my eye, I push the papers off it, and there stands my world globe in scales of brown, Dick and I used to say we'd travel the world together, my eyes sting as I remember a five and seven year old, laying on the floor giggling as they spun the globe. I want to take it, but I'm afraid it might break.
The door opens and closes behind me, I wipe under my eyes with my middle fingers. "I told you to wait outside." My voice does not break.
"I thought you asked me to be here." It's not Sandro's voice that speaks.
"I thought you said you weren't gonna make it." I clear my throat and spin the globe on its axis.
"My meeting with your father was rather convenient, but we've finished discussing the terms of our agreement, so I'm heading to Bishop City, and you're coming with me" That doesnt sound like a sugestion.
"I have to supervise Sandro. He's not known for his... gentle manner, things might break" I turn around to face him, hes leaning against the door as if there were no worries in the world, as if we werent who we are and anybody could try to kill us at any second, as if he werent the reason we are in this position in the first place.
He just steps away from the door, opens it, and gestures for the person behind it to come in, Sandro does. He stands in the middle of the room, between Arturo and I.
"I will be taking Miss Capone back to Bishop City. Transport the boxes in your car, make sure everything gets to the loft safely. For each item that breaks, so will one of your bones. Do you understand me?" Arturo tells him.
"Perfectly." Says Sandro.
Arturo once again opens the door and gestures with his hand for me to exit, "And take the damn globe too." I hear him say.
In the parking lot, I forcibly open his car door before he has the chance of doing it himself and slam it shut. When he opens the driver's door, he's shaking his head.
"I thought this is what you wanted," He scoffs.
I never wanted to need you, I think, but don't say.
He's mad because I'm mad, and I'm mad because... I never wanted to be forced into this situation.
I sigh because lately, my thoughts have been so redundant.
It does not feel like winning a war.
It feels like losing my dignity.
**********************
The snow crunches under my boots, I pull the sides of my leather jacket tighter around me. The hoodie I'm wearing underneath is not enough to protect me from this icy hell.
I fucking hate winter, it's an unnecessary season, everything dies, and the only thing in sight is snow, my glasses have started to fog with my exhales, I quicken my steps until I reach a patch of ice, I gaze at the architectural structure in front of me, it is majestic indeed.
I continue my rush, this time more careful of where I step until I reach the doors, and my breath no longer condensates, until I am no longer freezing, and I finally stop shacking.
Finally!!! I'm indoors.
I've never been to the Cathedral at Bishop City, I've never stepped foot in it precisely because of the sins that are committed in these places, someone who is supposed to be a man of God, is always somehow involved with the Italian mafia.
I do have to admit, these types of places are beautiful, the architecture, the paintings, they are simply art.
My hand finds its way to my pocket, taking a deep breath, I push my glasses up my nose, pulling my Rosary out, my lips start to tingle, it's been years since I sat at a church pew and said my prayers.
I grasp the crucifix and close my eyes as I make the sign of the cross, my lips move on their own accord.
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."
I tighten my grip on the crucifix, the words seem to fly out of my mouth as if they've been waiting in some corner of my mind.
"I believe in one God, the Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried; he descended into hell; on the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty; from there he will come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen."
*****
"Pray for us, Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ."
I cross myself for the last time, dabbing at my eyes under my glasses, even tho I know they're dry.
I do believe in God Almighty, I'm just not sure I believe I'm worthy of his favor.
As I'm walking out of the pew, I realize the confession booth's light is green, I debate going in for a second, but then I realize no one knows me here, and I know no one.
So, with a final miserable sigh, I enter the dark confessional and sit on the padded bench. The actions are both familiar and foreign.
Making the sign of the cross, I say: "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been six hundred seventy four days since my last confession, and in that time, I..." I take a deep breath and take my glasses off, I don't know why, but the movement makes it easier. "I have wished death upon my own blood, used the name of the Lord in vain" I rake my brain for all my sins but in the moment I come up empty, "I haven't been to church in a while now, I used to come very often when I was younger, actually my... uh... Eddy would drag me and my brother there. We were animals, there's no better way to describe it, but when we were at church we knew, we knew God had to be respected, I uh.. I don't think I've made a great job out of respecting God lately" I stare at the dark wall in front of me, wondering what the fuck I'm doing.
"Have you thought about maybe coming back to church?" His voice is raspy, he's probably in his late sixties.
What kind of question is that? Isn't it obvious by the way I frased my thoughts? "The Father is forgiving, confessing your sins is a great way to start..." He pauses, and after a heavy breath, he continues, "respecting him, once again."
"When I was fifteen I left for college to England, and I just wanted to get away from Father... my biological father" I spit the word out "I just wanted to completely sever ties with him that I stopped doing anything he did, God is forgiving, but betrayal should not be forgiven"
"Is that why you're here?
Because you feel you have betrayed God?
Let me tell you, Judas' betrayal was far worse, and still God forgave him"
Oh, the irony.
I'm confessing my sins to a man I do not know, "Che cazzo sto facendo?"
"Sei su un terreno sacro, figlia mia."
Shit, of course he speaks Italian!
"Scusi, Padre"
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