Maybe that was a premonition?
But it hadn’t worked like I thought it would.Instead of burying my best friend, I’d lost something more precious.
I winced as the breadth of my purgatory unfolded.I’d lost Ellie.She’d tell her sister, who would ban Mario from ever talking to me.And even if he did talk to me, that would put a wedge between him and his new wife.And I couldn’t do that to him.
By the time I landed, I knew what I needed to do.I approached the citadel where Don Manca reigned.He was up early, feeding chickens.
His guards took my weapons.I wouldn’t need them back.My fate was sealed.“Don Manca.”I knelt in the muddy grass.
He tossed a couple of handfuls of grain toward the flock, scattering it as they fought each other for the kernels.“I hear the pig boy with the ugly mustache is dead.”
“Sì.”
He shook the bucket and dug out a few more handfuls.“And I hear that there is one beaten Conti struggling for scraps.”
Did he mean me or Alfonzo?I kept my head down just in case he meant me.
A moment later his gnarled fingers dug into my hair.“You failed, yet succeeded.”He shook my head.
“Sì.”
He sighed and let me go.“Get up.”
I brushed my knees off and walked beside him.He handed me a rake as we reached the sheep pen.I got to work, mucking out the night’s excrement and laying down clean bedding.He worked beside me, putting fresh grass and water in their feeder.
A spicy ram got a little too close with an attitude ready to pick a fight.I caught it by the horns and tugged it away from Don Manca.
He noted my protection and spoke.“An agent from the FBI took Ellie to the hospital.”
The question on my lips took a moment to form.“Is she okay?”
He sent me a glare from the corner of his eye.“No thanks to you.”
I hung my head in shame.“I figure your son needs a shepherd for a few years.”His oldest son eschewed modern life and the family trade, making a simple life high in the mountains.He made cheese.The goats ran wild, or near wild on the rocky slopes all summer long.Living rough in the hills would be better than getting cast out.But it was as close as I cared to be to being removed from the family.I hoped Don Manca thought me useful enough for the job.Otherwise, I’d be alone.
He nodded absently.“The newest generation is too young or still preparing to be born, and the current generation is itching to leave the nest.Firenze will take your place.”
He deserved his chance.“Mario’s going to keep working on his knife skills, I hope?”
Don Manca laughed humorlessly.“You care?”
It wasn’t my place.I remained silent.
“Goats?That’s your choice?”
“When I first came here, I thought they were punishment.”
He smiled.“They were.You and my grandson were wild boys.I needed something to tame you.”
“It didn’t work.”
He slapped at the dirt on his pants.His chuckle died.“No.It took women to do that.”
My heart ached.
“Truth,” I said.
I felt his eyes on me.“I never thought I’d see this day.”
