The Majara

Adolescence

8

The echo of that amazing story survived in the following years, full of pathos and details that were added every time someone told the story.

What never changed was the mala taliatura that caused the death of the poor Cosimo Testasecca. A new doctor, Santi Paratore, had arrived in the small town from the city; he was no longer young and was also quite crabby, but he wasn't married.

This had intrigued all the unmarried ladies of Maresa, even Mimmarella Calò that, therefore, doubled her weekly visits to the church, with great despair of the poor Father Saverio who was already troubled with his problems, such as the construction of the new parish oratory and the ravages of time. Nothing had really changed, except for Calogero Scimone that had married Lisuccia Spanò, the hairdresser's youngest daughter. There had been a huge party in the village that went on for a day and a whole night. Everyone had gone except for Rosalia Scirè that stayed home to keep company to her grandma Teresa. The old lady for quite some time hadn't been feeling well; what had happened to her niece Nina was the final coup de grace. Melina never returned to Maresa, only her husband Mario occasionally showed up at the "Casa Grande". Donna Teresa had lost her energy, she forgot the simplest of things and had tremors. If it wasn't for her niece that assisted her with love, she would already be dead. Rosalia Scirè grew into a beautiful woman, even dressed in black old clothes she couldn't hide it.

She always kept her hair very long with soft curls; her ethereal pale skin resembled the winter snow, but her big brown eyes hadn't changed...they were still clouded with sadness and mysteries that only she knew. She didn't help donna Isa anymore, because she had begun to work during the morning for Peppino Vitale, the owner of a spinning wheel, and she spent the rest of the day in her grandma's house. Obviously she had to make time for the majara lessons of her grandmother Fina and her aunt Mimmarella, whowere trying to teach her how to read cards. The only thing she learned from them was that she had a great deal of fantasy. Even if she still didn't have the "gift", they thought it was better to learn the basics for the future when she going to become a real majara. Her mother gave rise to the legend of the mala taliatura throughout the small town. Sometimes when she was home doing her usual chores she exclaimed "God bless Fortunato!", because the poor cat had now her highest consideration since, at least, he died in such a dramatic way proving the skeptics that her daughter was a real Basile like her father Turi. But the young girl had sadder memories of those moments. She buried her cat in the ground near the big rock on the mule track. Vituzzo had helped her to take him out of the cupboard under the stairs and she wrapped the small body in one of her old skirts. With a shovel in a hand and her dead cat in the other, she walked up to the mule track, while hugging him near her heart for the last time; she didn't want anyone with her. Whenever she could she still sat on that big rock, like she used to and, while reading out loud, she could feel Fortunato near her playing in the bushes and she felt less lonely. She never found another friend like him, but she loved animals too much so she kept taking care of the stray cats and dogs of the town, Now, nobody dared to hurt the majara's animals, Cosimo Testasecca had set an example for the rest. Once in a while Rosalia saw donna Maricchia leaning out of the window of her house. That poor woman had lost all her family, first her son and now her husband. She didn't go out anymore, not even for the mass and Father Saverio went to her house every Sunday to give her the communion. Every time Rosalia saw the hopeless face of that woman, she couldn't help but feel guilty; maybe the hatred she felt that day toward don Cosimo, had really killed him; this was what the "Three Woes" kept repeating and she was starting to believe them. Vituzzo Pitrè hadn't stopped to bother her. Actually, he now went around in his bicycle so he could follow her better. He worked as a shoeshine, and he often went to Palermo coming back late at night. During those days Rosalia could enjoy the absolute peacefulness of the small town although she was getting so used to Vituzzo's mischievous face that, when she didn't see him, she wondered what he was doing.