STALKER

CHAPTER 120 - 13th February, 2024 - Venice

I knew exactly where Alvise was buried. After all, I attended his funeral with Giacomo. We hid in the shadows, as far away as we could from the family and other nobles who wailed and beat their chests as a sign of their grief.  All very theatrical and more about them than him. The elaborate rite was held at dusk, fewer common folk were around to spoil the pomp and ceremony. A procession of Venetian royalty and Patricians led his casket to a small church Alvise had insisted he and his family line be interned. It was not grand like the ancestral mausoleum and considering his social standing and his family's illustrious history, it was thought a strange choice for his final resting place.

The Church of San Giacomo in Rialto was in 1748 already ancient and for some reason, only known to Giacomo, who would not share the story no matter how many times I asked.  Alvise had a special attachment to it and had made his wishes clear.  He was given a lavish funeral befitting his pedigree.  Marchese Alvise Contarini was a distinguished and enormously wealthy diplomat and merchant.  His name is in the Golden Book. He was only 47 at the time of his death.

When Alvise fell ill from a fever that cut a swathe of death through Venice in the winter of 1748, he was shut away in the ancestral home and cared for by his wife and an army of physicians. His already weak lungs, a lasting effect of Scarlet Fever he had contracted years earlier, succumbed quickly. Giacomo saw him slipping away and neither he nor I could reach him. I never said goodbye. All the well-meaning treatments of the time only made him weaker. The constant leeching took the last of his strength. We could only stand by helplessly.

Giacomo bore the distress and pain in silence but I knew his spirit was broken. He had been Alvise's constant companion, servant, and friend for three decades.

Giacomo, was technically a slave, not that Alvise ever treated him as such. So according to the custom in Venice, he was freed on his master's death. Normally, this meant that slave was abandoned, left penniless and homeless after years of servitude. However, the relationship between Giacomo and Alvise was never one of master and slave and Alvise left him comfortable for the remainder of his life and San Gabriele became his home until he died a decade later.

....

As I walked from San Gabriele to Rialto I thought about the day Alvise passed, still a relatively young man.  I remember the grief I felt to hear my friend died prematurely...again.  I was tempted to do something stupid, play God once again.  It was a hard decision to make but I decided that I wouldn't interfere this time.  His time had come and I had to let him go.  Even so, I was selfishly aware that I could visit my friend whenever I wanted for the rest of my life.  Ironically, it would be me that would grow old and not him.  It was a concept that was hard to get my head around.   I was happy with the thought I would never truly lose him.

I bought flowers in a shop close to the church.  It was easy to recognise even though I hadn't been back for centuries.  The features it's known for, a large clock and bell tower, stand out magnificently across a large courtyard surrounded by rows of columns.  I went through two sets of doors and down the central naive.  The Contarini Family Vault was in the Chapel to the right.  My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach when I saw a low relief carving of Alvise set in the middle of the vault above the family seal and the names of the occupants.  I didn't know about this.  It threw me for a loop.  It was the image of him as a young man.  I was shocked to see my friend staring blankly into space, forever a beautiful young man.  I couldn't help but reach up to touch it.  The sculptor had masterfully captured the man to the extent it seemed I was cupping a soft cheek.  There was something about it that made me feel he was well-loved.  Whoever organised this sculpture had loved him, perhaps he wasn't as lonely as I thought.