The Inheritance - Softcover

Perry, Marianne

Softcover

ISBN 10: 147595283X ISBN 13: 9781475952834

Verlag: iUniverse, 2012

Inhaltsangabe

The Inheritance tells the story of a family disintegrating from conflicting loyalties in 1900 Calabria, Itlay. The region was subject to earthquakes and tsunamis; the land was harsh and poverty the norm. Superstition clashed with religion and a class system ruled the people. Calabria is the perfect backdrop for the tragedy the unfolds in The Inheritance. Caterina is an atypical woman, and The Inheritance chronicles her life from birth to young womanhood. Born with an inheritance of loss into a society that has predetermined what she can and cannot do, she vows to live a life of her choosing. Caterina refuses to allow the limits of her gender, the constraints of her class and the demands imposed by those in power to stand in her way. Caterina remains steadfast in her commitment to become the woman she imagines. Her decisions ignite conflicts and fuel a chain of events that result in dire consequences for all whose path she crosses.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

A second generation Canadian-Italian, Marianne's interest in her Calabrian-Sicilian roots has fuelled her genealogical research to solve family mysteries.

Along with researching family history, Marianne's writing reflects her extensive traveling, a passion for adventure, an interest in establishing connections and a yearning to understand our world."What matters the most in life are the people you love and the adventures you have." -Marianne Perry

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

The INHERITANCE

By Marianne Perry

iUniverse

Copyright © 2012 Marianne Perry
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-5283-4

Chapter One

"O glorious Saint Gerard Majella, preserve Nella from the excessive pains of childbirth," Padre Valentine prayed.

A feeble ray of morning light passed through the small window of the one room cottage. It was not the brilliant beam of gold that the priest had wanted but it was still a sign that there was hope for the young woman who lay quietly on the blood soaked straw mattress in front of him. Hers was not the first desperate situation he'd witnessed nor, he lamented, would it be the last. After four years, Padre Valentine still couldn't fully accept that his life would end in Cetraro; a desolate fishing village on Calabria's rocky Tyrrhenian coast.

The priest touched Nella's forehead. "Release her dear God and shield the child she now carries." He made the sign of the cross and she started to scream again. He pulled his hand back. Nella's body twisted and turned and shaped itself into unnatural contortions. There was no reason for the priest to finish his prayer; no one would be able to hear his words. Padre Valentine wasn't even certain if God was listening anymore.

"She should have given up the baby two days ago," Mafalda said. She leaned her thick upper torso over Nella's flat chest. The Gobbo talisman attached to a piece of twine, which the old midwife always wore around her neck, began to swing side to side like a pendulum.

The rhythmical movement of the little gold statue of the hunchback mesmerized the priest and for an instant, he considered

"Padre, this can't go on for much longer."

Mafalda's voice broke the spell. He moved closer to Nella as Mafalda pressed her large hands down on Nella's narrow shoulders.

It was 1897 and Padre Valentine had worked with Mafalda since he came to Cetraro as the new priest at St. Ursula's Church. Padre Valentine knew that Mafalda would do everything she could to save Nella and her unborn child.

"Make her still."

The other midwife, Velia, yanked Nella's ankles, and pulled her spindly legs straight. She flattened the soles of Nella's bare feet against her heavy bosom. Padre Valentine did not know this midwife, and feared she might break Nella's bones.

"Padre, Nella knows her baby's not safe outside her womb." Mafalda glanced at Velia. "We'll have to take it."

Nella stopped kicking. Her round belly rose from her emaciated frame and a picture Padre Valentine had seen of Mount Vesuvius before it erupted and buried Pompei flashed through his mind. It was from a textbook that he had studied a decade ago when he had been a student in a theological seminary in Rome. The priest was ashamed that he had let such an image distract him. Nella needed his full attention now; that was why God had put him here. Padre Valentine tried to control his thoughts but sometimes he failed. He had never planned to be a priest in a poor Calabrian fishing village and sometimes, he still couldn't believe everything that had happened to him.

"I need clean rags," Velia shouted to Anna.

Anna spun around, she had been praying to the twig crucifix on the mantle of the open stone fireplace next to the olive jar filled with her summer roses. The front of her silk dress was stained with her servant's blood. Flowers that had been pink had turned red, as had the band of ribbons that circled her tiny waist. Several hours ago, Padre Valentine had urged her to return to the villa, he promised he'd let her know what happened to her servant. But she refused to do so. Attending the birth of a servant child violated the code of decorum that her husband, Santo Marino, had set for his wife. Even though Santo was still away, the priest was worried that somehow he would find out. Padre Valentine still did not understand why, after ten years of marriage, Anna had not yet learned what he had long ago accepted, that Santo Marino was not a man to be challenged.

"Here." Anna snatched a rag from the pile on the floor and threw it to Velia. She took her place beside Mafalda.

"She'll live." Velia said. "I've never lost a sixteen year old mother."

This hadn't been true for Padre Valentine and Mafalda.

Velia shoved the rag into Nella.

"We'll have to take it now," Mafalda said.

Anna knew that her presence here would raise her husband's ire; nevertheless, when Padre Valentine had brought her to Nella's cottage yesterday, she could not abandon her.

"Take my place."

Mafalda shifted towards Velia.

"Hold her head."

It was difficult for Anna to believe that this was the same beautiful girl who had cared for her since her family moved to San Michelle four years ago. She placed a hand on each side of Nella's swollen face. Anna was relieved that Nella's husband, Edoardo, did not have to witness his wife's suffering. Nella had tried to give Edoardo a child before they had come to San Michelle, but she was a bleeder and her body had given up the infant before it was fully formed. Edoardo worked as a gardener for Anna's family; he was thirty-five and Anna knew that there was not much time left for him to be a father.

All of a sudden, blood spurted from Nella's body, and sprayed the front of Velia's dress. Padre Valentine needed to concentrate on something but the stone walls were bare.

The fetid air stirred the bile in his liver and he felt a bitter taste rise up in his throat. He rushed to the bucket of water by the door, grabbed the ladle off the floor and plunged it into the liquid; it was a miasma of dark colors and dank odors. The priest wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his cassock; the dark material was sodden with a mixture of his sweat and Nella's blood, he was repulsed by his own smell. Padre Valentine needed to pray, but he couldn't think of anymore prayers to say and it seemed useless to repeat the other ones.

"There are no more rags." Mafalda stood up. Velia and Anna held their places.

Nella was still bleeding.

Mafalda raised her fleshy arms to the ceiling. "Oh, lavender," she cried. "Let your powers cast out the evil within our Nella." She reached into the pocket of her skirt, and scooped up a handful of dried purple petals. "Oh, lavender, bring her peace and give us her child." She sprinkled them over Nella's body.

Padre Valentine grasped the silver crucifix suspended on a leather cord that hung around his neck. The individual sculptures of the bull, winged lion, bird and virgin riveted on each point pressed into his palm. The crucifix had been a gift from his friend, Fiore, who was now a doctor in Naples and the priest had worn it in St. Peter's Square on the day of his ordination when Pope Leo X111 had blessed him. Padre Valentine released the crucifix. The imprints of the sculptures had marked his skin. Mafalda had stopped speaking. Why had his teachers not taught him how to deal with these superstitious people? They prayed with him in his church but whenever something frightened them, they resorted to the old ways. Padre Valentine hoped that he could reach their children, like this baby, if it lived.

The petals had absorbed Nella's blood and were no longer discernible. Mafalda closed her eyes and touched the Gobbo. The flow finally abated.

Anna pulled a white handkerchief edged with lace from the sleeve of her dress and patted Nella's forehead. Nella grew quiet.

"A flood," Mafalda shouted an instant later. Nella's body shaped itself once again into unnatural contortions.

"A river of blood," Velia screamed.

Mafalda grabbed a blanket and Velia forced her hands into Nella; Anna recoiled and her handkerchief...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: iUniverse
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2012
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 147595283X
• ISBN 13: 9781475952834
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 280
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: KreGa Onlinehandel GmbH; 4950000000000; info@krega-onlinehandel.de; ; Birkenweg 31; Brakel; 33034; Deutschland