Chapter Two
When Resa and I returned to the kitchen, all the other ladies were busy mashing up dough for the pie crusts. They greeted us with a rather peppy "Hello". Fridays always seemed to have a magical effect on us; probably because we made it a tradition to sneak out every Friday night and go on a bit of an adventure. Our little escapades had included late night trips to the cherry orchard, where we climbed the old wooden ladders into the twelve foot trees and ate sweet cherries until we were sure the tree branches would break under out weight. On especially hot evenings we'd make a trip to the river, where we'd skinny dip and tell stories about our past romances under the full Italian moonlight. Other adventures included less exciting fruit raids, drinking fames with stolen alcohol under the kitchen island, truth or dare matches in Giulia's cell, silly things like that. But never once did we try to escape. That was probably because we knew that the black jackets would find us the next morning; lost and confused in some field, with scorpion bites plaguing our ankles. The repercussions would be worse.
"So what's happening tonight, ladies?" I asked, setting my basket of fruit on the massive wooden island. Part of the tradition was that the three left in the kitchen decided on that night's activity. Rosa was the one to announce.
"We were going to walk to the olive trees" she said. I felt my stomach churn a bit, as it usually did when we decided what our weekly adventure would be. The live grove was difficult to get to; it was North East, past the cherry orchard, the elegant leady olive trees grew in stellar rows near sandy clay hills.
"Sounds good" I said with a grin. Resa gave thumbs up.
In the meantime, I washed and sliced the nectarines, setting the sweet pieces into a deep wooden bowl. Resa did the same with the plums. We mixed in our secret spice, then poured the filling into the crusts. I stood back and let Martina's aging, calloused hands pip the sides. She made the pies look as if they came from a bakery.
o/O/o
Usually us maids were busy day un and day out, cooking and cleaning. Bu after the pies were placed in the over, we found ourselves standing around with nothing to do. Resa quickly left the kitchen, and I wondered if she was going to her room to cry.
"I want a boyfriend" Renounced Giulia. Everyone made a pensive "hmm" sounds as they nodded solemnly.
"Ironic" said Rosa, her auburn eyes flicking over to Giulia. "We're surrounded by men."
"We're surrounded by heartless brutes" scoffed Martina. That much was true. Resa padded into the kitchen, her favourite sketchbook under her arm. She pulled a stool over to the island, sat herself down, and stared at the black page- mentally starting her sketch.
"But out of all the heartless brutes, who has the most potential?" Inquired Giulia. She was running her fingers through her soft corkscrew curls.
"Basta" I said automatically. Rosa made a sound of disgust and Martina cast me a scornful glance. Giulia, bless her heart, came to my defence.
"He is the best looking" she chimed. "Molto allettante."
"Why not Capricorn" said Marina rather gruffly. "I'd go for the full meal deal."
"It's his fault we're here in the first place." Muttered Rosa, peering into the oven to check on the pies.
"At least he's tall and powerful" said Martina. I rolled my eyes, knowing she was comparing Capricorn with Basta.
"What are you drawing, Resa?" asked Rosa sweetly. I looked over and saw Resa blush as bit before turning to a blank page in her sketchbook. She was hiding her first drawing.
"It was bad" she signed clumsily. This struck me as odd, because Resa never hid a drawing from us. And her sketches usually held amazing likeness and skill. So why was she hiding this particular drawing? I brushed it off though, not wanting to create another kafuffle. Martina and my bickering over Capricorn was enough static for the day.
When noon rolled around, the ladies and I re-set the tables with piles of spicy meats, bread and cheese. It was around this time for day the black jackets enjoyed picking fun at us. Rosa, who was good at biology, explained that their low blood sugar caused some of them to by cranky. I briefly remembered a diagram of a negative feedback loop from grade twelve, illustrating something about glucose being broken down in a body's times of famine. I dismissed this explanation and held fast to my belief that the black jackets were merely cranky and bitter people to begin with.
I ignored the usual un-tempting pick up lines, insults and treats spat at my as I served plates of food to the black jackets.
Hey Babe.
Nice Body.
Why don't you come over here?
Nice ass.
How about you and me get it on?
Stupid men. Although I must admit that their constant cajoling made me feel wanted. I desperately missed having a male companion. I wasn't meant to be single. I was one of those people who always had a boyfriend, so the past year spent at Capricorn's, I felt as though I'd lost my touch. I was at the back row of the church, when Basta came in late. He entered the church with an enigmatic expression, and kept his lips sealed together in a straight line. I watched him curiously as he sat at the table, reached across for a pear, and twirl the stem. It was an extremely girly action, reminding me of the stupid 'he loves me, he loves me not' games. Memories of the eight grade came back to me very suddenly.
I remembered sitting in the school cafeteria with my friends Emma and Christie. It was well into the month of January, and heavy white snow fell from the sky in a persistent flurry, covering the ground in a heavy 2 foot blanket. Emma pulled a gala apple from her blue lunch bag and made a face.
"Who wants it?" She's asked.
"Me" was my reply. I took the apple from her hand and twisted the stem as I said the alphabet.
"What's she doing?" Asked Emma. Christie explained that the letter the stem broke off at was the first initial of your crush- or true love.
The stem broke at W.
"Who starts with W?" Asked Emma, disbelieving.
"Wade Ryan" I'd said, my gaze ripping over to the modest brunette boy sitting a few tables to our left. He had a wide face and troubled brows and honest green eyes. That suited me just fine- I was attracted to boys with green eyes.
As I stood there in Capricorn's church, I strained to remember what happened to Wade. Then I briefly recalled something about a Humvee accident and the military.
Basta flicked the stem at the black jacket sitting across from him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Martina coming my way, so I quickly motioned to her that I had Basta's table covered. I saw her roll her eyes, then busy herself elsewhere. After taking a deep breath, I sauntered up to where Basta was seated, and filled his coffee stained mug with water. His eyes briefly flicked up at my face, then he turned his attention to the pear he had yet to eat. I smiled to myself- Basta had gorgeous blue green eyes.
By the time we'd finished washing dishes for the second time that day, I was anxious for night to fall and for our late night trek to the olive grove to begin. Martina was the last one to finally pull her hands from the soapy water and announce that she'd had enough of washing dishes.
"Cheer up, Martina" chirped Giulia, who was sitting on the counter and eating a plum. "Play time is coming soon." As Martina grumbled under her breath, I found myself yearning to run through the olive grove and climb up the branches. "Ouch!" I looked up in surprise and watched Giulia singe the tips of her dainty fingers on the pie tin, which she'd just removed from the oven. Martina scolded Giulia for her carelessness, and removed the other pies by herself, lining them up side by side on the tile counter. Steam escaped the vents on the golden brown pie pastries and created a steamy cloud in the spacious kitchen. They smelled delicious. Suddenly Rosa began fiercely humming the short tune from 'The Wizard of Oz'- the one where the Wicked Witch of the West appeared in the twister. In other words: Mortola was coming.
We quickly scrambled into position: Martina snatching a broom, Giulia pretending to dry dishes, Rosa dashed over to a cupboard, Resa and I wiped the crumbs off the island. And just in the nick of time. Mortola entered the kitchen, a nasty expression on her face.
"The pies?" She snapped, looking at each of us as if she'd like to squish us under her shoe.
"Are done" said Martina, her voice icy as it usually was when she dealt with our boss. The older woman didn't have anything to say to Martina. She merely glared at her before storming over to the line of pies. We all knew she was going to take the finest to Capricorn.
She poked each pie but one, reminding me of an expression my Grade twelve teacher had used in Social studies to describe some politicians: "some people like to have a finger in every pie." This saying had made me laugh, generating a mental image of a fat, balding man in a suit- punching his short, stubby fingers into an array of pies.
I found myself giggling as Mortola continued to prod our delicacies.
"What are you laughing at?" Snapped the old woman. Out of my peripherals, I saw Giulia and Rosa widen their eyes and open their mouths in horror.
"Nothing" I sputtered, the urge to laugh just too great to resist. I just had to let it go. I tried sucking my lips into my mouth, but I ended up exploding with laughter. To my even greater amusement, Giulia started laughing too.
"THATS ENOUGH!" Cried Mortola, her angry voice only further provoking our amusement. Pretty soon all three of us were red in the face, but Mortola was far from pleased. "Come with me" she snarled. "The both of you~" As I controlled me laughter to mere sputters, I saw Martina, Rosa and Resa gape at us in disbelief and shock. I knew that this would be the main topic of conversation in the olive grove tonight. Before we left the building, Mortola shoved all of the pies in Giulia and I'd arms. We exchanged confused glances as we marched up the streets to Capricorn's mansion.
"What's going on?" I mouthed to Giulia over an armful of piping hot pies.
"I dunno" she mouthed back. Mortola shoved open the door to Capricorn's fine house. I had to blink my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The air-conditioning felt nice on my skin, which was overheated from the steam escaping from the pies. Several maids dressed in black dresses and red aprons stopped what they were doing and watched us scuttle down the hall after Mortola.
We stopped before a grand set of white double doors with brass snake shaped handles. Mortola rapped at the wood, awaiting her son's welcome.
"Come in" we the chilling, bone aching reply. Capricorn's voice wasn't one easily forgotten. Unlike Basta and several other underlings, Capricorn held not a slurry British-like accent. His voice was instead flat and deep. It could just have easily been a monster that invited us into the study.
"These two skanks have a confession to make" stated Mortola, motioning for us to put the pies down on the long, glossy table. Giulia and I stared at each other, alarmed. What confession? Did Mortola know about our Friday night adventures?
"What confession?" Asked Capricorn. I refused to look up at him. I knew all too well that he was perched in an armchair at the end of the table, dressed in red. It could just as well have been the devil himself. But I felt a nudge on my ankle. I looked up at Giulia, who flicked her eyes in Capricorn's direction. Just as Mortola began rambling on about something, I saw why Giulia had motioned for me to look. Capricorn wasn't seated in his grand chair. He was in fact standing beside it, looking somewhat flustered. And to his left, slumped but still standing with his back to the wall, was Basta. My heart jumped and I felt as if I'd been poked with a jolt of electricity. The man didn't look up at me- he kept his gaze fixated on the toes of his black combat boots.
"I think they've poisoned the pies" stated Mortola.
"Cosa?" Cried Giulia.
"No!" I cried, shocked that Mortola would come to such a conclusion.
"Then why were you laughing?" She snapped, her glare dangerous.
"No, no! You just reminded me of a politician, with your fingers in the pies and all!" I sputtered. I heard a small, handsome laugh come from Basta. Mortola didn't find it at all amusing.
"Shut up, Basta" she snarled. "And I don't believe you. Eat the pies." She ordered.
"All of them?" Protested Giulia, wide-eyed.
"IS there something you're trying to hide?" Barked the old woman. Giulia and I groaned. "Eat a piece out of each pie and prove they're not poisoned." Giulia and I exchanged glances before accepting two forks from Mortola. Just as I was about to take my first bite, Basta spoke.
"I'll be leaving now" He announced, his voice a slur trailing with disgust. His footsteps echoed slightly as he breezed past my shoulder and exited the room. The door slammed behind him, leaving only the four of us in the grand study.
"Well, eat" purred Capricorn, sinking into his chair. I took in a deep sigh, then poked into the first pie. The filling was beautiful red and orange- it was nectarine. I took a confident bite, jutting my chin out stubbornly at Mortola. I chewed the delicious pie, swallowed, then poked into the second- a plum one.
Giulia and I's pie derby lasted no more than ten minutes. When Mortola was convinced that we weren't trying to poison her boss, she said we could leave. I heard Giulia sigh in relief. As I stood up and turned to exit the room, I became aware of several little puddles of blood on the floor. I frowned in confusion but when I noticed that the trail led to the door, I realised it must have been from Basta.
