The Secret Book of Grazia dei Rossi by Jacqueline Park

Author:Jacqueline Park
Language: eng, eng
Format: epub
Publisher: House of Anansi Press Inc.
Published: 2014-03-20T15:36:57+00:00

Our visit to the Reggio was a respite for my fretful soul, but only that. The same evening, Judah undertook a full examination of my father, purely to confirm what the first look had already told him. “It is a bad tumor, Grazia,” he explained to me when we were alone in our chamber. “One of those that duplicates itself within months. That old fool Portaleone was right for once. A surgeon is of no use here. Cut this growth out and two more will appear to take its place.”

“Are you telling me there is no hope?” I asked.

“You know that is not my judgment to make. Only God decides who lives and who dies.”

“I hate God,” I muttered.

“Grazia!”

“He is so unjust. So arbitrary! At least Christ has some compassion.”

“So they say,” he answered mildly. “But I have yet to see the proof of it. Christians die as suddenly and as cruelly as we do. Like us, they are stricken by plague. Their babies are born dead, their children maimed. I do not see any particular compassion being lavished on Christians. Except perhaps for rich Christians. There I see a difference. Observation has taught me that the poor of all religions suffer more grievously in this life than the rich. If you wish to eat injustice, chew on that for a time.”

I had irritated him with my blasphemy. Worse, I had blamed him for God’s will after he had traveled over sea and land to come to my father’s aid.

“Please forgive me, honorable husband,” I asked humbly. “Perhaps what we need is a surgeon to cut out my sharp tongue.”

“No surgeons,” he answered, his anger gone. “This will be a hard time for you, Grazia. To see someone you love wasting away is one of life’s great trials. But you have the strength for it. And the love your father needs. Now, may I give you some advice?”

“Please . . .”

“Come close to me.” He beckoned me to move toward him in the bed and placed his arm around my shoulders. “If Daniele’s case follows the usual course, he will weaken and lose weight. These tumors seem to gobble up all the nourishment we feed the patient and leave none for the rest of the body. I have spoken frankly to your father. He does not fear death. He has given himself over to the disease. He is prepared to die. And you must help him do it easily. Are you up to the task?” I nodded, mute.

“Good. Prepare yourself then. Soon he will begin to refuse food. Do not force him to eat. As the end approaches he will spend most of the hours in a doze.”

“And when will that be, Judah?” Whose voice was this, calmly requesting a deathbed schedule?

“No man can predict the moment of death,” he answered. “I would judge a few months. Mind you, I have been wrong before.”

A few months. I could bear that, I thought.

“I will leave you a vial of powerful medicine. Should he be in pain a drop or two on the tongue will ease it.

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