"Caterina!" exclaimed Uncle Gino, "Come here!" I guiltily trudged over to the fence. "Caterina Dafne Capulet, you know not to speak to Montagues!" I glanced down at my shoes, "Yes, Uncle, I know. . ." Gino scowled at me as he quietly spoke the words I most hated to hear "I expected more from you." Tears burned at the corners of my large, green eyes as I choked back a sob, "I know, Uncle," I whispered. Uncle Gino had arrived at school early to pick me up as a surprise. Instead, he saw my best friend, Felice Montague, and I playing in the schoolyard. Felice and I had been friends for two years now without either of our relatives knowing, until now. My stomach dropped as the teacher on duty smiled and motioned for me to leave with my uncle. I wiped my grubby hands on my plaid jumper and grabbed my school satchel.
Our drive back to the house was painstakingly long. Oh, how I longed to go back to the schoolyard. I didn't care if Felice was a Montague, names meant nothing to me, she was my friend and one of the most adventurous and exciting people I've ever met. She had a head full of ideas and a sharp tongue. She was a tough girl and quite a scrapper. No one messed with Felice and me, not even the toughest gang of boys at St. Gregory's Preparatory School. Together, Felice and I were a fiery ball of nine year old girl power. I would give anything to be someone else right now, to not be in this stuffy car with my angry and disappointed uncle. Unfortunately, my request was uncultivable, so I had to remain how I was with my sweaty thighs sticking to the leather seats of my uncle's car.
It seemed like an eternity before we arrived at the house. My body was weighted with the worrisome sense of dread. I had disappointed my uncle, the man who had helped me through my parents' deaths and taken care of me for the past three years. Gino was such an import person in my life and to disappoint him like that was nearly unbearable. When we entered the kitchen, Uncle Gino finally spoke again, "Rina, you know what you did was wrong, don't you?" "Yes, Uncle," I replied. He nodded, surveying my tear streaked face and messy, auburn hair. A sad smile slowly speared across his face, "Do you know the Capulets and Montagues don't get along?" I looked down at my shoes in contemplation. Come to think of it, I hadn't, I had no idea why the Capulets and Montagues were in such a feud. As long as I could remember I was taught to dislike Montagues, to never trust them, but I couldn't think of it ever being explained to me. "N-no, sir," I stammered, "no one has ever told me. . . " Gino sighed deeply, "Cate, I think you're old enough to hear now. . ." he closed his eyes as he gathered his thoughts, after while he began to speak.
"Long, long ago," he began, "in the city of Verona, this very city in which we live, resided the Capulets and the Montagues. At this time, they were a very peaceful pair of families -- no fights, no slayings, no disputes. In fact, they were so peaceful that Stephano Capulet and Tessa Montague were set to be wed. Both families were overjoyed by this fact. Who could ask for more than their children to be married off into well to do and socially high standing families? To each side, it seemed perfect. Stephano and Tessa had been arranged for marriage at the age of ten and seven, but weren't set to wed until Stephano had reached the age of seventeen and Tessa of fourteen. Each family anticipated with eager hearts the day their children could be wed off to influential families. Time drug on and the children grew into debonair young adults who were curious about the world around them, about love, about life, about happiness.
Our families used to be friends, I thought in bewilderment. What happened? "Uncle Gino, if our families go back so far and were so peaceful then, why can't it be fixed now?" Gino smiled his ubiquitous, sad smile, "If only it was that easy. . . You know the saying time heals all wounds, yes?" I nodded thoughtfully in response. "Well, it's only true if you're not talking about two of the most stubborn families in Verona. Little one, something unfortunate happened to the families not only once, but twice. Family members were slain on each of the occasions and sometimes, losses like that just can't be forgiven." I looked down at my grubby, sweaty hands. They looked so dark in comparison to the white marble counter tops of our kitchen. For the first time in my life, I was feeling. . . I couldn't put my finger on it, but it wasn't good. . It was like I felt out of place in my own home. How this came to be, I have no idea. My home had always been a haven to me, even during the time of my parents' deaths, my parents' deaths. . I closed my eyes. I didn't want to cry, not in front of Gino. He'd seen me cry far too much. Even though he was family, it made me slightly uncomfortable. I have always hated crying in front of people, I'm supposed to be a spunky tomboy, and spunky tomboys don't cry. I looked across the table at Gino. He was surveying me with a knowing expression. How did he always know? "Would you like me to continue, little one, or would you rather go upstairs and clean up?"
"No, sir, please continue. I'm sorry."
Gino smiled at me and nodded, "Now, where was I?" He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts yet again. "Mm, yes I remember now. . Young Mr. Capulet and young Miss Montague were growing into a pair of lovely young adults -- each with their own interests, but similar in morals. They had quickly become friends and were inseparable since becoming so. Even though it was an arranged marriage, many say had it not, they would've been wed anyway."
"So it was as if it was meant to be?"
"Yes, it seemed to be at the time. All seemed perfect, love sent from God himself, until the night of their wedding. Tessa had a cousin who was a terrible drunk, and in times of celebration, would go even more overboard than usual. This was a widely known fact amongst the town of Verona and many of Stephano's relatives were concerned, but family is family and the drunkard was invited anyway. There was much talk about the town of both families second guesses on whether or not to invite this cousin and has fate had it, the word spread to the cousin. Tessa's cousin was outraged by the mere thought of even being considered for exclusion from the wedding, so he developed a plan."
My eyes widened as I looked at Uncle Gino. I had a feeling of what was going to happen, but I didn't want to say it, I didn't want to waste the surprise. Gino nodded at me somberly, "Yes, little one. Tessa's cousin had plans to slay the newlyweds." My stomach dropped a little. I had never felt so much empathy for something that had happened so long ago, not even when I had heard the story of Juliet Capulet and Romeo Montague for the first time.
"The day of the wedding finally rolled around and all seemed happy and joyous in fair Verona -- the sun shone, the birds sang, the flowers blossomed, all seemed in celebration -- even Tessa's deviously drunk cousin. He sat outside of the Montague's manor, waiting for Stephano to walk out alone. When he finally did, the cousin jumped up in hot pursuit. 'Good day, dear Stephano,' crooned the cousin, 'How beist thou?'
Stephano smiled a cramped smile, fully aware of the extent of the cousin's unsober state; he nodded 'No fairer day than today.' 'Mmm, I thought not,' hissed Tessa's cousin maliciously. Not wanting to have much to do with his love's cousin any longer, Stephano turned on his heel and proceeded to exit the premises of his family's house. This gravely angered the cousin and he followed closely behind Stephano and began calling out insults and crude remarks, pushing at Stephano until he finally turned on the cousin. It was all going exactly as cousin had planned; he smiled triumphantly to himself as he felt the handle of his magnificently sharpened dagger hidden safely in his sleeve. Stephano glared at the cousin and as he took a step forward to speak, the cousin plunged the dagger into Stephano's chest. Stephano choked and stumbled back; the cousin yipped in a fit of self pleasure as he clicked his heels together and ran off into the city."
I choked back another sob that had the audacity to try and escape my lips. How can people be so heartless? How could you possibly kill a person, especially when they had never done anything directly to you? There have always been insensitive and crazy people in this world, even back then. I couldn't even fathom watching someone kill another person, much less be the killer. It was all so violent and cruel, people were cruel. I was beginning to think I just wanted to stay a child forever so I would never have to deal with things of this nature. I got up from my chair and grabbed a tissue, "I'm sorry, Uncle. Will you please continue?" Gino looked at me worryingly, "Are you sure? Is it not too much?" "No, Uncle. It is fine, I'd like to hear the rest of the story," I murmured.
"Stephano was left to die on his own in an alleyway. No one knew of his absence until an hour before the wedding, until it was too late. The flurry of the wedding had caught everyone in a dream state, not even realizing that dear Stephano was gone. Search parties went out looking for him, the scoured the town, until he was finally found. Everyone began to weep, their beloved Stephano Capulet was dead. Slowly, the parade of searchers made their solemn walk back to the Capulet manor. No one wanted to break the news and no one had to, Stephano's mother could just tell, Tessa burst into tears. The next morning the Capulets and Montagues went to see Stephano's corpse at the morgue, to say goodbye. Everyone was in quiet mourning as they entered the tomb. Lying on the ground for all to see, was the corpse of Stephano Capulet, with a knife shoved in his chest, a knife emblazoned with the Montague coat of arms. A collective gasp rose from all areas of the group. 'YOU!!' roared Stephano's father as he whirled around to face the Montague procession, 'YOU DID THIS TO MY SON!!' Tessa's father's eyes narrowed into a glare, 'You think we did this? We loved your son, we couldn't wait for you son to marry our daughter. Have you not stopped to think that maybe someone framed us? That maybe someone stole our knife to make it look like we had someone do it? We've never been anything but good to your family and your son and this is what is received in return, Capulet?' Capulet stared coldly at Montague, 'Leave my tomb, you dirty scoundrel. From this day forth, no Capulet shall ever deal with a Montague in peace. No Capulet shall ever trust a Montague, for they are all lowly and capricious.' And with that, the Montagues stormed from the Capulet morgue. Since then, we Capulets have fought with Montagues. The only other occasions are Romeo and Juliet, and now you, little one. . You and your friend. . ."