My memories of him are fading. Whether by old age or simply from the cruel passage of time, I cannot say, but the years go by and it becomes harder and harder to bring back his face. Not even our family paintings could really capture Casimiro. He is best remembered in context.
My brother was an unruly child, wild and impetuous. He was one year my elder, a fact which he loved to lord over me. I didn't mind. We were so close in age that I found myself his usual partner in crime as well as his best playmate. Besides, we had four older sisters who were a lot more fun to annoy.
Mama used to call him a holy terror; always pulling pranks and never able to sit still through Mass. She used to lament that he would certainly meet a bad end one day, though at the time, we paid her no heed. For all her complaints, I know Mama adored him. Cas was a natural charmer, always ready with a cheeky smile or a well-timed joke. He could always make us laugh and had an unbelievable talent for getting himself out of trouble.
He was Papa's only son and his greatest source of pride. Papa was really the only one who could keep up with Casimiro, and I used to laugh to see them together, playfully scuffling on the wood floor, their laughter ringing through the house.
I noticed very early that they had the same smile, a sort of crooked, roguish grin that lit up their whole countenance. They were so alike, in their faults as well as their finer qualities. Papa was the only one who seemed to truly understand Casimiro, and the only one who could command his complete and total respect.
Our father's death came as a shock to all. Our sisters had long been married off by then, but Casimiro and I were still painfully young.
Our Mama wept openly by the gravesite, comforted by our many aunts and uncles as the priest gave the final eulogy.
My brother and I stood apart, numbly clinging to each other as Papa was settled into his final resting place. Though he was only sixteen, Cas had long surpassed even the men-folk in height, and I had to crane my neck in order to see how he was faring. Casimiro's face was a mask, but as I wrapped my arms around his too-thin waist, I could feel him trembling.
Our vineyards had been in the family for generations, passed from eldest son to eldest son. Unfortunately, Casimiro was only a boy when Papa died and the ownership of the estate fell instead to our Uncle Vincenzo. Within months, he had moved his family onto the property and had successfully taken over the business. It all happened a little too quickly for my brother.
Of all of us, I firmly believe that Cas took Papa's death the hardest. Sixteen is a dreadful age for a boy to lose his father, especially when they had been so close. He viewed our uncle as a usurper, a little too eager to insinuate himself as the head of the family. Casimiro already had a father, and anyone who tried to take his place (even allegedly) was doomed to face his contempt.
It would be unfair to suggest that our uncle was in any way unkind to us. He and Auntie looked after my mother and made certain that we never wanted for anything. Perhaps this is where my brother was failed.
Casimiro grew restless as he grew older and without Papa to temper him, his strong will became harder and harder to control. He began spending his time farther away from home, and his allowance on things that are probably best not mentioning. There were rumors of gambling and drinking and once or twice Casimiro was even caught fraternizing with…less than reputable women.
By the time Cas was eighteen, our elders had had enough, and after a particularly ugly incident in which Uncle Vincenzo had to physically bail his nephew out of the local prison, Casimiro was brought in front of the entire family to answer for himself.
Uncle Vincenzo sat at the head of the table, flanked on one side by myself and my mother, and on the other side by his wife and our younger aunts and uncles. Casimiro stood facing all of us, head up and shoulders squared in defiance. He really had nothing to say for himself, only that his choices were his own and that it was not his uncle's place to scold him. Vincenzo disagreed.
"You are no longer a child, but if you continue to act like one, this family will no longer accommodate you." I felt my heart drop, and beside me I heard my mother's breath catch in her throat. Only Casimiro seemed unconcerned, merely quirking an eyebrow as he waited for Uncle to get to the point.
"With that said, you are still my nephew and I have no sons of my own. I am presenting you with two choices, Casimiro. Your first option is to straighten up and join me in running the estate. For all your short-comings, I know you have at least some of your father's shrewdness. I am willing to make you my partner and one day turn the vineyards over to you."
Mama gasped in surprise and I'm sure my expression mirrored her delight. None of us expected Uncle to be so generous, especially Casimiro. My brother looked thoughtful, folding his arms behind his back and seeming to turn the opportunity over in his head. His response surprised us.
"What is the second option?" I groaned inwardly. Only Cas could have such cheek at a time like this. Vincenzo's expression was grim.
"Your other option is to leave. Pack your belongings and strike out on your own…You are not being disowned, Casimiro," he said quickly, seeing his stricken expression. "You will be free to come and go as you please, but the family will grant you no financial support. I believe it would do you good to see how difficult it is to have to support yourself."
Casimiro said nothing for a long time but looking at his face, I could see the wheels turning in his head. A slow grin spread over his face, that smile we only ever see when Cas is up to something. Vincenzo grew impatient.
"Well?" Casimiro chuckled.
"Thank you, Uncle. Truly your generosity is unmatched."
"Then we have an agreement? You will behave yourself and stay at the estate to learn the business?"
"I didn't say that." Everyone looked at each other in confusion. I could practically feel my mother's anxiety rising beside me.
"Then what are you saying, Nephew?" Vincenzo demanded. Casimiro spread his hands in a placating (and somewhat condescending) gesture. Putting on his most disarming smile, he said,
"You are very kind, Uncle, but I have never held any aspiration to run the business. I have long desired to travel, to get beyond the boundaries of Tuscany and even Italy itself. There is an entire world out there and I don't need your help to see it."
"Casimiro!" Mama could contain herself no longer.
"I will pack and be out of your collective hair within the week."
Mama let out a wail and buried her face in her hands.
The door was closed, but that didn't keep me from getting the gist of the conversation. Mama was terrified and my brother was having to use every ounce of his persuasive power to pacify her. I don't know how long I lingered near the bedroom listening to the rise and fall of their voices, but in the end, Casimiro's efforts were for naught.
There was the muffled sound of a slap and the door opened seconds later to reveal a crestfallen looking Casimiro, a bag on his shoulder and an angry pink handprint on his cheek. Behind him, I could see our mother, sitting on his bed and weeping into her hands.
When he saw me, he managed a weak smile.
"I suppose you heard that." I sighed.
"You really are doing this, aren't you?" His smile faltered, and he uncomfortably readjusted the bag on his shoulder.
"I need this, Fran. I can't ask you to understand, but…I just need to get away for a while."
On some level, I did understand and I told him so. Still, I had to swallow a lump in my throat as I walked him out the door and down the front pathway. When it was time to part ways, Casimiro leaned down and put his arms around me. Despite his confident words, I could tell he was just as sad as I was.
"Take care of yourself, Frani," he swallowed. "And Mama too. It'll take some time, but I know she'll come around eventually."
"Casi!" Mama ran out of the house in a blur of brown and lavender, and I barely had time to get out of the way before she had tackled her only son, hugging his waist ferociously. Casimiro barked out a laugh as she nearly knocked the wind out of him and he had to bend almost double to kiss her. He smiled at me over Mama's head, and I knew from the tears in his eyes that all was now right in his world.
He would be gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time, keeping in touch through letters and assuring us that he was having a wonderful time. We gradually grew accustomed to his long absences, though Mama spent a lot of the time gazing hopefully out the window. But no matter how long he stayed away, Cas would always come home, bounding through the door with that huge grin on his face, hugging and kissing us with all his might.
He would tell us all about his travels (some of the details embellished, I'm sure) and though he never detailed how he was supporting himself, I was simply relieved to see the old Casimiro again: so happy and full of life. Mama still had her doubts.
"Casi, mio amore, don't you think it might be time to consider your future? Your uncle's offer still stands. If you want to settle down, I know there are plenty of young ladies who would love to have you for a husband." Casimiro would always just chuckle, shrugging his shoulders and kissing Mama's cheek.
"I have all the time in the world, Mama. Maybe next year."
I knew my brother better than that. That wild heart would never be tamed and heaven help the woman who tried.
It wasn't until months had gone by without so much as a letter that even I began to worry. Cas was probably about 25 by then and I did my best to reassure our mother that he was fine. What else could I do?
Six months had passed without a word before I saw my brother again. It was late in the evening and I had decided to go for a walk out in the vineyards. The full moon was at my back as I meandered down the pathway, taking in the night noises and letting my mind wander.
My thoughts were interrupted by a small shape flying past my face at record speed. I ducked and admittedly let out yelp. I have never like bats and this one had almost come close enough to touch me.
When I straightened up, the creature had disappeared into the shadows underneath a nearby olive tree. As I stared after it, I caught the movement of an entirely different shape. A dark figure stepped out from under the boughs; it's tall, lanky form advancing slowly towards me. My heart began to pound frantically.
"Who's there?"
"Ciao, Fran." I nearly melted with relief. I would know that voice anywhere.
"Casimiro!" He drew nearer, and I saw that it was indeed my big brother. He smiled at me, though for once the expression never reached his eyes. I was so happy to see him that I was surely babbling like a fool. "Oh Cas, I've missed you so! Where have you been? We've been so worried."
I stepped forward to embrace him and, to my surprise, he stepped back, putting his hands up in an almost protective way.
"Don't, Fran." His tone was apologetic.
"Cas," I asked him. "What's the matter? Why are you treating me like a stranger?"
"It's…" he sighed. "It's probably better if you don't get too close." He was so pale; his usual tanned, vibrant complexion had taken on a sickly, almost grayish hue.
"Are you unwell?"
In my eagerness, I stumbled over a loose brick and would have fallen if my brother had not intervened, his arms shooting forward and catching me with an almost unnatural speed. I gaped at him, surprised not so much by his reflexes as by the chill of his skin against my bare arms. Seeing my expression, Casimiro flinched, righting and releasing me almost as quickly as he had caught me.
Taking advantage of his hesitation, I reached out and took his hands in mine, fearing the worst when I felt how cold they were.
"You are ill, aren't you? Poor Cas, no wonder you look so pale." He ducked as I stood on my toes to try and feel his forehead, his expression getting more and more agitated.
"Francesca, stop it!" I jumped back, startled. He had never snapped at me before. Cas sighed again, a look of remorse in his eyes as he gestured for me to sit down. I just stared at him.
His eyes. There was something wrong with them. My brother had beautiful eyes, their color a deep earthy brown like Mama's. It was probably just the moonlight playing tricks, but in the dim light they looked almost red.
"We need to talk."
"Damn right, we do," I growled, sitting down beside him on the fence. Nothing about this felt right. Why was he acting so strangely?
"Why are you out lurking in the vineyard in the middle of the night? If you were home, why wouldn't you come up to the house?" Cas glanced warily over his shoulder, as if expecting our mother to come tearing out of the house at any moment.
"I can't go back there," he said flatly.
"What are you talking abou-" Something in his expression silenced me. He needed to speak his piece.
"Something's…happened to me. Suffice it to say, it's not safe for me to be around the family anymore." His hand trembled slightly as he reached over and affectionately brushed my cheek with his fingers. "Not even you, mia cara."
"Cas, this is your home! We love you! If you've gotten into some kind of trouble, we can help." He chuckled mirthlessly.
"Miela, I'm afraid even Uncle Vinny can't get me out of this one."
"I don't understand."
"It's better if you don't." There was a long pause, the two of us side by side on the fence, staring into the night.
"Let me see if I have this right," I said softly, breaking the silence. "You're in some kind of trouble. You can't tell me about it but for some reason it requires you to abandon your family and never return." Cas choked.
"Fran, please. Don't think this is easy for me. I don't have a choice."
"So why did you come back?" I asked him. "If you're just going to leave again, why make it harder for both of us?"
"I needed to say goodbye." He stood up (slowly, as if the effort pained him) and reached out to me. Acting purely against my will, I rose and wrapped my arms around him.
Something was taking my big brother away from me, and the thought both terrified and infuriated me all at once.
"Can you not at least come to the house before you go?" I whispered. "Mama's been so worried about you." I felt him shudder as he held me, and I knew he was having to fight with himself.
"Wish I could."
This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. None of it made any sense. We just couldn't lose him.
Casimiro and I slowly, hesitantly released each other, and as he pulled away from me for the last time, his lips found my forehead, kissing it gently.
"I love you, Fran. Tell Mama…" his voice cracked and he had to clear his throat. "Tell Mama I'm sorry."
"Cas…"
I wanted to scream and cry. I wanted to grab hold of him, drag him home and get our mother to talk some sense into him…but it was too late. With a final squeeze of my hand he was gone, vanished into the darkness as though the night itself had consumed him.
"I love you, too."
I drifted back to the house, feeling confused and suddenly very much alone. Mama needed only to look at my face to see that something was wrong. I could only tell her what little I knew. Casimiro had come and gone and wouldn't tell me anything about it.
"Why would he not come home? Does he not realize how worried we've been?"
"He knows, Mama."
"When is he coming back?"
"I don't know, Mama."
"You don't know?"
"I don't know." I met my mother's eyes with difficulty. "I…don't think he's coming back this time." Mama's head jerked back, as though she had been struck.
"La madre di cielo!" she cried, sinking into a chair. "I don't care what he may have done. I just want to see my boy."
Mama began to weep and I crossed the room to put my arms around her.
"Why won't he come home?" she sobbed. I had no answer as I held her. All I could do was trust my brother to have a damn good reason for leaving us behind.
He's been gone so long…The rest of the family has already given him up for lost, but not me. I watch for him even now, at any time expecting him to come sauntering through the front door like he always does. I see that face, handsome and impudent, wearing Papa's smile.
He's been gone so long…Now Mama's gone too. Perhaps it's wrong, but I find myself relieved. It was no life for her sitting by the window day after day, watching tirelessly for her wayward son. I had put off a family of my own for the longest time because I just couldn't leave her alone. Now that she's gone…well…I suppose marriage was never for me to begin with.
In my heart, I know we will see our Casimiro again. Our family will be complete once more, even if our reunion must wait for Paradise. When that time comes, be assured that he's going to have some explaining to do.
In the meantime, I'll keep the door open. Perhaps I am a fool for holding on to hope, but even after all these years, I just can't bear the thought of Cas coming back to an empty house.
I never could stay angry with him. When he finally comes home, I'll be there.