Turbinio

Bread and Wine

''Diego was an unwanted child, his own parents tried to bury him alive and pretend he was never born.''

"But he only had his mother, right?''

"Yes, she seems to have repented. His father, Dario Brando, tried to kill both his wife and son, but they survived.''

At that moment, Hot Pants pulled out a letter she had kept under her nun's cloak, sealed and properly preserved. She reached out to hand it to you, but hesitated.

''I need you to promise me that you will use this if your life is in danger. Do you understand?''

"I understand, but what is it?''

"The current whereabouts of Dario Brando, Dio's father. I'm sure that he still harbors hatred for his father and would do anything to take revenge. With this information, Diego could do nothing to you. You just need to promise me that you will use this.''

In your trance of insomnia, sadness and tension, you didn't know exactly how or when you could use this letter, but you answered without hesitation.

"Yes... I will.''

You stopped abruptly as you took the letter, listening to the palpable silence. Then, more cautiously, you repeated, voicelessly:

"Yes. Yes, I will.'' And a fleeting thought crossed your mind. ''But why would he go after his father with such certainty?''

"Anger is a sin that blinds. Diego is a completely blind man and that makes him predictable.''

Predictable, yes. You knew that Diego was a predictable and dangerous man, what you didn't lack were warnings, but still you were there, ready to be strangled. For a moment you thought that maybe this was your perfect revenge.

''Yes, he is blind and predictable. But still, he almost killed me in the frozen strait.''

You expected a reaction a little more than a simple Hot Pants sigh, but you didn't get that.

"Yes, I heard that.''

"Why did you give me this information? What made you trust me so much? I might as well keep this secret in my grave, knowing that Diego will die without knowing anything about his father. I could get back at him by keeping it to myself, you know, right?''

"Yes, I know. But you won't do it.'' She said calmly. "You're a sinner too, just like Diego and me. It's natural for sinners to seek redemption, so you won't take revenge until your conscience is clear. That's why you want to save Lucy, that's why I gave you this information, and that's why Diego won't kill you if you use it. These are the conditions of the sinner: first, you have a conscience and give complete consent to it, then you wait for forgiveness and grace.''

"And why would someone like Diego wait for forgiveness and grace?''

''For to accept an eternity without seeking them is shameful even for the worst of sinners.''

The red of the sanctuary lamp burned steadily, reflected in the polished gold. The flames of the white candles in front of the images of the Virgin Mary flickered and jumped now and then, as the wicks gave way to an occasional imperfection, a momentary crackle of wax or moisture. But the red lamp burned serenely, with no inconvenient flickering to betray its light.

And if there was eternity, or even the idea of eternity, perhaps Hot Pants was right; anything was possible. But what about us mortals? You asked yourself. We, who feel compassion, who have the full capacity to forgive just like our God; who have the full capacity to love and hate and allow ourselves to be controlled by it? You asked to the image of the Virgin Mary, having the subtle memory of the woman in the alley, enjoying the little time she had with her inadequate lover. Did they really love each other? You never stopped to think about it, but you could remember their dilated pupils and flushed faces - adrenaline from doing something forbidden, perhaps. But also because of this "forbidden thing''.