Bring Me Back My Boys

Chapter 1
There was a chill in the air as the sun set into the horizon. Carlo looked out over his precious land, the land that had recently been sown with wheat ready for harvest. This land plot, which he was bound to handed down generation after generation, prized so much for survival in the Southern part of Italy. Life was hard and enduring, poverty was far and wide and hunger burned. Some were fortunate to have land and livestock for a better quality of life, some not so fortunate. Carlo could barely hear the water in the brook that flowed not too far away from the back door of his modest little farmhouse. He was anxiously waiting, pacing, as he could hear the screams of his wife Francesca giving birth to their first- born. He had been waiting for this moment, his first-born son, well he hoped it would be a son. A son who would walk in his footsteps just like he had done with his father, a son that will be able to take over the land just like he had done. ‘What if it is a girl?’ Carlo thought to himself. ‘No we won’t think about this right now.’ He quickly dismissed the thought from his mind.
Carlo stopped pacing when there was no sound to be heard, a moment of silence, and then more screaming from his wife Francesca, but this was different, these were screams of despair and anguish. Carlo did not hesitate; he threw open the door of the farmhouse, Francesca was desperately clinging onto her newly born screaming, ‘No’, repeatedly. The Midwife turned to look at Carlo and he knew instantly by the look on her drained face that something was eminently wrong. “I am very sorry your son died during the delivery I did everything that I could.” Carlo’s face was bleak, his chest hardened as he walked over to the bed where Francesca lay clinging to, what would have been her bundle of joy. She looked up at Carlo with her swollen reddened eyes full of tribulation. He looked down on her with aversion, he couldn’t say what he was thinking, ‘My son she couldn’t even bring him into this world properly, what kind of women did I marry?’ But he didn’t have to say anything. Francesca knew exactly what he was thinking as he turned ballistic and barged out of the farmhouse.
Francesca did not see Carlo for days; she was left to mourn alone. Not only did she have to sustain the birth of her stillborn son, which she named Luca, she even had to come to terms with the audaciousness of Carlo. She sat in her neat little farm house feeling unworthy and desolate, not shedding and wiping away tears, there was no more to cry. She heard footsteps outside, which made her jump out of her self-demeaning thoughts she stood up quickly. The door thrust open and there he was looking at Francesca as if she was some kind of murderer. “What’s to eat?” he asked. Her bottom lip quivered, she held back her tounge and didn’t respond. She quietly started to peel potatoes that she placed in in a cast iron pot, with tomato and onion, and then heaved the pot on top of the tripod, with the fire underneath lit by coal. She wanted so much to bawl out everything, but she would not dare she probably end up wearing the potato pizzaiola or some other severe punishment.
Anger churned in the pit of her stomach and not being able to bellow out was excruciating, so she plated the cooked pizziaiola in front of her arrogant husband, picked up her shawl wrapped it around her and left. The only place she knew where to go for her anger to subside was church; God was the only person she could turn to right now for commiseration. She made her way to the village, went across the piazza, (an open square), and ran up the stairs which led to the huge wooden church door. Francesca opened the door slightly and peeked in to notice if anyone was there, thank goodness she could spend time with god alone. She stepped in trying not to make the big heavy door creak, she dipped her fingers into the holy water “In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit,” she said quietly as she slowly made her way to the alter. She looked up at Jesus on the cross, she got down on her knees before her almighty god with her hands clenched together holding rosary beads and eyes closed. She prayed “please god bring Luca back to me” for the first time throughout this turmoil she felt a sense of sereneness, tranquil, peacefulness.
Nothing could be heard except her whispering voice delegating with the everlasting father. She heard a scuffle at the entrance of the church and cries of babies. Her heart skipped a few beats, she quickly ran to the doorway and stepped outside where she saw a strange man that turned to look at her with blazing blue eyes full of anxiety, who quickly ran down the cobble stone side street that led away from the church. A young, handsome, well dressed man in a suit, with a gold chain hanging from the pocket of his waistcoat. The dazzling shine on his black shoes matched his slicked fair hair, which was parted on the side.
The crying was louder now and she looked down at the two woven baskets that had been put down on the second to last step leading up to the church. The strange man had not intentionally placed the baskets there he was prepared to place the baskets inside the church. Francesca obstructed his plan, so he was contrived to put the baskets down and impulsively run not to be noticed. Francesca’s heart was racing, she was a little afraid, confused, and curious, so many questions were running through her mind. ‘Who was that stranger who was dressed well and clean-cut? He certainly was not from Arena, nor the villages that surrounded.’ Francesca was dumbfounded she had never seen a man with such attire. ‘Why was he more afraid to see me than I was to see him?’ She thought.
Francesca cleared her mind of the questions and drew her attention on the baskets that lay before her. She could still hear the crying, a little dubious she stepped back from the baskets but her inquisitiveness got the better of her so she reached for both baskets and carried them into the church and placed them on the first pew. She unfastened the baskets with her fragile quivering hands and slowly uncovered one then the other. She stepped back one hand on her heart and another covering her mouth that was wide open with astonishment.
Two newly born babies, twins, merely a few days old lay in front of her. The most embraceable little babies she had ever seen. She was captivated and allured by their presence and their beauty. Wrapped in the finest silk embroided with gold thread she knew instantly that these babies were from opulent descendants. The baby on the left would not stop crying in fact he was crying so much he was turning purple in the face. Francesca knew they must have been hungry. Without even stopping to think she unbuttoned her blouse and picked up baby on the left put him to her breast, he did the rest, suckling on her nipple, content that he was finally being nourished.
Baby on the right was wimping and whining but he wasn’t turning purple like this little darling that is trying to suckle every last drop that there is to suckle. He weaned off her breast not wanting anymore, he let out a little burp that made Francesca tilt her head back in laughter. No sooner did she gaze back down at him, he was fast asleep with his mouth slightly open. She laid him back into the basket and picked up the other one, which she noticed a very distinctive birthmark on his hand. She fed him till he was content and in a deep slumber, much like his brother.
• She sat there with her two babies either side of her, with feelings of uncertainty but at the same time a sense of euphoria and blessedness. One thing she can be certain of, she thought to herself with a smile on her face, ‘this is truly a miracle, the babies were sent from god, he bought back my Luca.’ Francesca was so exhilarated and jubilant, not even thinking about Carlo, she picked up the baskets one in one hand and one in the other. She turned to face the alter, “grazie padre’ “ (thankyou father), and then made her way home.
“Where have you been?” Carlo asked sternly as she entered the farmhouse placing the baskets on the table where the plate had been left for her to clean away. “What is in the baskets?”
“Come I will show you,” she replied in a gentler tone than what he was using. He got up and obeyed her, which wasn’t very often. When he got close enough to the table she unfastened the baskets again with anticipation that Carlo will feel the same way she did when she first laid eyes on the twins. He peered down and stood straight up again, then took another closer look noticing the gold embroidery on the silk the babies were wrapped in. He knew for an instance that these twins were not just ordinary babies from peasants. These babies had significance
“Where did you find them?” he asked, his tone had mellowed a little.
“ They were abandoned on the stairs of the church, I saw a well dressed young man leave them there, when he saw me come out of the church he ran.” She looked up at him with her wide-eyed almond shaped brown eyes, which now were gleaming with joy. Her cheeks were glowing red like as if they were painted and her hair hung loosely curled over her shoulders. Carlo at that moment remembered why he took her as his wife. She was young and strong, lot of work in her and beautiful. With a little excitement in her voice she continued to tell him everything that had happened.
“ I could not leave them there, they were hungry and lonely so I decided to bring them home with me.” Said Francesca.
“Why not?” questioned Carlo “ This strange man had the nerve to leave them there, and besides someone will come looking for them, by the look of that silk they are wrapped in they come from nobility, from the city they don’t belong here.”
“Oh yes, but we must take care of them until someone calls for them. In the eyes of god we must do the right thing.” Francesca sounding desperate hoping he would coincide. He turned away from her and walked towards the window and just stared at whatever view the window had to offer. She stared at him not knowing which way he was going to go with this. He stood tall with his hands clenched into his pockets; his dark brown wavy hair was everywhere wanting a trim and his brown eyes squinting even though there was not much daylight left. His thick dark complexion matched his personage. His big chest lifted, as he heaved not knowing what to do. He knew that Francesca was overwhelmed with the twins even though she tried to disguise it. “ They will have to stay here till the morning, tomorrow we must take them to the municipio (commune) and leave them in the hands of the law,” he said and then walked outside to try and recollect his thoughts.
This is not what Francesca wanted to hear, but never the less she needed not to pursue this matter any further this evening. She knew her husband only too well; if she keeps on trailing he will simply do something deplorably in spitefulness. The twins were stirring in their baskets; she took them out and positioned them on the huge posted bed admiring them as they gurgled. Francesca lay beside them caressing their tiny little heads, looking down on them with a grimace look on her face, singing a lullaby with her soft sweet voice. Then the thought of taking them to the municipio tomorrow clouded her mind and disheartened her. “I can’t let anyone take my miracle babies away from me, Luca was taken away from me I am not going to let it happen again. Please god you gave me this blessing, let me remain blessed.” She prayed to her saviour.
Sindico Luciano, the mayor of the town, a bald stocky, middle aged man who was sitting at his desk signing papers, didn’t even acknowledge Carlo and Francesca as they entered his office and sat down. Without looking up he said, “What can I do for you?” Carlo stood up grabbed the baskets which sat in front of Francesca, and placed them on top of the papers that the Sindico was signing. Luciano looked over the top of his gold rimmed glasses, which sat half way down his nose, “what is this?” he asked irritably.
“They are abandoned babies that my wife found on the church steps,” replied Carlo just as annoyed as Luciano was.
The Sindico got up out of his seat and peered inside the baskets and paused for a moment. “That is fine silk they are covered with, when did you find them?” he asked looking at Francesca.
“Yesterday afternoon, late afternoon”, she replied nervously. He walked to the front of his desk and leaned against it with his arms crossed, still looking over the top of his reading glasses. “We have two options, I can arrange for them to be sent to the orphanage or you can look after them at your own discretion of course, until they come looking for them. Which no doubt they will, and you may be rewarded for your goodwill.” Luciano said to them, hoping they would take the responsibility of the babies, the last thing he needed right now was more paper work. Francesca quickly stood up out of her seat and went over to Carlo and grabbed his arm “ Carlo please, lets just take them home till somebody comes for them, we cannot let them go to the orphanage,” she pleaded with him.
Carlo deep down really didn’t care if the babies ended up in the orphanage, the only thought Carlo was clinging onto was the reward that he would receive when their wealthy parents come to seek them. Carlo turned to the Sindico “ I will take the responsibility of the babies until someone claims them.” Francesca couldn’t believe what she just heard, she wanted to scream out with joy, but instead she looked into Carlo’s eyes and gave him a half smile. Sindico Luciano was relieved; he quickly picked up the two baskets and passed them to Carlo,