Date: Thu, 31 Mar 2005 13:06:37 EST
From: SSch191950@aol.com
Subject: The Lizard, part 1, chapter 8/19

THE LIZARD - Primavera
by Stefan


Comments and suggestions are welcome

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8
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"In 1422 Tommaso enrolled in the Arte dei Medici e degli Speziali,
as every Artist was involved there. Being a painter means you are a
Chemist too, with special knowledge of paints and colours and how to
mix them. Ingredients from foreign countries, such as Marco Polo had
introduced to them. Ingredients shipped by from over the oceans for
our pharmacies and kitchens and workshops of Art. We continued our
work together and I became more and more influenced by my young pupil.
Whenever I used this name for him in public his face grew angry.
Having a healthy rosy colour on his own, it started to gain a fiery
red and his black, longish hair stood on end over his forehead. He
stressed that he was not my pupil, for whatever reason. Today I know
he felt that he was so much better than I was. . Together we worked
on the panel painting of the Madonna with her child and Santa Anna,
and the people said, it was as if the old kind and the new kind of
Art came together. Melding. It was the first work to manifest from
our relationship. It was the first time I learnt that there was
something else outside my world as painter.

It was at our workshop that Tommaso took the brush from me, opened
my paint soiled work coat, and loosened the girdle around my waist
that held the short skirt over my tights.

   "I need a model", he said seriously. "For my Saint Paul." I stared
at the piece of wood he had ground already, which would be part of a
polyptychon for the Carmine church of Pisa. He had outlined a massive
three-quarter figure of the apostle. "I search for intensity, detail",
Tommaso explained, undressing me further. My skirt had fallen, like a
loose shirt and I was standing embarrassed with nothing more than my
tights and shoes.

   "That's what I need." Tommaso said pleased, his black eyes scanning
my body. After a time of measuring and watching, drawing lines and
improving, he stepped closer again. It was as if needles were pricking
my skin when his fingers outlined the contours of my body. "You are
a masterpiece", he said and his voice had taken on a husky tone.
Without being able to stop him, he had loosened the pouch that hid
my genitals, cupping them in his palm. "I need a closer view for my
professional viewpoint."

And then... and then.... I cannot describe. My feather trembles and I
fear to blotch the parchment. Not even here and now can I confess what
happened. The unspeakable... that I longed for since I had first seen
him. His youth. The gift of his body. Every night from then on."


Alessandro and Luca, leaning tightly together against the wall,
followed Masolino's diary. "You see, he admits it. Well, as if anyone
hadn't suspected it."


"What? I didn't."

"That's because you've heard nothing of Masolino before." Alessandro
kissed Luca's nose.

"And what's the interesting part now?" Luca asked, eying the relatively
thickness of the book.

"Patience, amore. The interesting part is what they did together that
Masolino didn't want to describe", he teased.

"I've imagination enough."

"Have you?" Alessandro put aside the book and closed Luca's lips with
his mouth. "I bet you know just a fraction of what we can do in bed."
He pushed Luca onto his back and started fooling around with him.


Spring spread a gentle pattern in many greenish colours over the
landscape: the yellow-green of the young corn and wheat, the blue-green
of the rye, in between long rows of silver-green olive trees and
yellowish fig trees and bluish vines, while upon hills the black green
pines and cypresses stood like guards against the light blue sky.
Luca absorbed the forms of the landscape like a dry sponge. Sitting
beside Alessandro in his Ferrari he enjoyed the drive up into the
hills of Fiesole, the little, Etruscan village high above his hometown.
He had been here before - naturally - but by bus, and not in this
posh, bright red automobile from which Sandro had pushed back the roof
and the air currents whirled in his hair.

He didn't know exactly why Sandro had invited him to visit the summer-
villa of his family, but it was all the same to him. He was with Sandro
and that was enough. A short passage led them through forests of
chestnuts, oaks and beeches, alternating with meadows in full bloom.
Fairytale meadows as he called them in his mind. Thick carpets of
grass and wild flowers, red poppy and blue iris, deep-pink gladiolas,
violet anemones and blue cornflowers, wild orchids and the beautiful
green-white blooming wild garlic. He longed to throw himself into
them and breath the scent, but Alessandro didn't stop. He surely had
an eye for this beauty, but actually his mind was on other things.

"Do you know why Tuscany looks as it does?" he asked. "It's the touch
of human hands. The olive trees, the grapes, the cypresses and pines,
the villas with gardens, terraces and lemon trees. My family was once
proud of their noble past. But what were we? All that we had was our
unbearable arrogance. We lived in our castles in the valley of the
Mugello." He pointed to a spot in front of them, where the hills opened,
and a gentle rolling valley appeared, in its depth a tiny river sparkled.
"We could hardly write our names, and had heard about Christianity but
only from afar.

>From our castles we ravaged the landscape, plundered the monasteries
and kidnapped the monks. We were nothing more than robber barons,
Bevisangue - blood-drinker. And if the merchants of Florence defeated
one of us, they set fire to our castle and forced us to live for a year
in the town - to civilize us I guess. But it didn't help much, we
introduced Vendetta and didn't give up the habit of building tower-
houses, like animals following their nest-building drive. Hundreds of
those tower-houses stood in Florence; the lion's tower, the flea- and
snake-tower and of course, the lizard-tower."

He flashed a brief grin in the direction of Luca, who listened
attentively. Sometimes Sandro's tales were interesting. "Those towers
weren't only expressions of the obstinacy and ostentacy of our families,
but they were needed to stand firm in sieges, like we did in the mountains'
olden days. We had constant feuds with the other families or with our own
members. The Gondis didn't own just the so-called lizard-tower but many
more in addition, spread all over the town."

"Yeah, and then the whole clan entrenched in one of them and threw stones
and burning pitch upon the rebels," Luca said. "The connected houses were
destroyed with heavy battering rams and in the streets were built
barricades and all the congenial inhabitants couldn't leave their houses.
Right?"

Alessandro grinned once more. "You did your homework well", he said. "But
it was just this boundless thirst for power, that was the sign of the real
Florentine. And the Pisan looked down on us like at a pack of wild mountain
men, stingy, envious and proud as we had been."

Alessandro stopped at a tiny, open piazza in whose middle the monument of
Garibaldi meeting King Umberto stood. "The fight between aristocracy and
merchants led to the strange silence and barren hills because the castles
and fortresses were pulled down bit by bit. The towers of San Gimigniano,
standing like a mirage at the skyline, are the sole survivors of a time
when the landscape was sprinkled with a thicket of towers. We, the noble
people, hadn't been anything more than highwaymen, charging private customs
duty and plundering the caravans of passing merchants."

Luca looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Why are you telling me this?"

Suddenly Alessandro burst out into a joyful laughter. "You love my
explanations , don't you?" He leaned over and kissed Luca's lips. "I can't
help it. Do you think I'll become a good tourist guide one day?"

"Tourist guide? I thought you studied history to work in a museum?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I'd love to guide foreigners through the town to
tell them all this."

Luca shook his head. "I'm not sure about that. Tourists would soon grow
bored if you stuff them with all this information."

"Depends on which kind of tourists I choose."

"Ah. How long will you need to study to become a historian?"

"Four years I guess."

Luca's heart sank. He couldn't imagine waiting four long years for Sandro's
return. But he pushed the thought away. "You've told me this story to
understand your history, haven't you. From a wild highwayman to an acclaimed
member of your family. Mayor and all. Heir of a twenty-million-inheritance."

Alessandro nodded slowly. "It means that we are little more than farmers.
Noble blood means nothing. It's just a title."

"And yet you still carry a lot of pride", Luca said in a low voice. He
thought about their first meeting at the cemetery. The haughty look from
Sandro's eyes that gave the silent sign to stay away. "I could tell my
your eyes that you thought I was beneath you."

Alessandro was silent. Secretly he agreed. And what had made him change
his mind? He started the motor again and drove along a small street,
passing the Etruscan museum with the wide amphitheatre and the excavations
behind until they reached a driveway and, behind cypresses, a flat roofed
villa, painted yellow, with green shutters. The staircase was flanked by
lemon- and orange trees in buckets. "That's our villa, Luca. I guess mother
is in the garden behind the house."

Luca took it all in as he followed Alessandro around the house on a neat
sandy path. He saw a bent figure in black crouching between the flowerbeds
and a beguiling scent of rosemary and lavender streamed through his nostrils.
He saw a row of strawberries and bluebells. The figure rose and wiped her
hands, then she shaded her eyes. "Alessandro, is that you?"

A lovely voice. But somewhat brittle. "Ciao, Mamma. Why are you doing this
alone? Where's Fran? Fran is our gardener", he said to Luca.

Luca looked curious. He didn't know what to expect. He had thought that
Sandro's family would be upset to meet him, and he awkwardly stepped from
one foot to the other. "This is Luca, my friend", Alessandro introduced
Luca who stretched out a hand.

Valentina didn't take it, but looked embarrassed. Luca felt, that he had
done something wrong.

"Your friend?" Valentina asked angrily and looked through Luca as if he
wasn't there. "Have you decided, otherwise why have you come up here?"

"No, I haven't decided." He shrugged his shoulders. "It's a wonderful day."
Luca's eyes wandered between mother and son. Valentina was still dressed
in black, but a big Florentine hat with artificial fruits and flowers
shaded her face. He thought that her eyes were unsteady and a faint smell
of alcohol streamed from her clothes. She led the way between the beds to
a small table under a fig tree and sat down. "Help yourself, there's tea
in the kitchen", she said, taking a carafe and pouring something in her
glass.

Alessandro turned up his nose and went in, pulling Luca with him. "She's
drinking again. And what would she do with her long days anyway. Squander
the money the best as she knows."

Like you, Luca thought and was ashamed of his thoughts. But at least Sandro
had a brain and he knew how to use it. He followed him into the kitchen, a
wide room with pots and pans hanging along the walls, an oven in the middle
of it and baskets full of vegetables, potatoes, glasses with spaghetti and
sauces, pots with fresh herbs drying in lines across the windows. "Does she
live here alone?" Luca asked surprised.

"Yes, with Fran, the gardener and Anastasia who's the cook." He pulled out
a jug with lemon tea and poured two glasses. "Alone with the ghosts."
Luca choked on his drink. "With the ghosts?"

"The ghosts of our family." Alessandro finished his glass and stared into
Luca's eyes. "It's anniversary day. That's the reason I brought you with
me."

Luca felt as if he was being treated like a marionette in a play he didn't
understand. "Stop talking in riddles, Sandro. Why did you want me to see
this?"

"Because you're the first to see this."

"You use me for your rebellion against your family", Luca stated. "But I'm
not the buffer between you and your family matters." He turned as a shadow
had covered the sunshine flooding through the entrance door. Valentina stood
there, glass in her hand, slightly swaying. "What do you want then,
Alessandro, if it's not to discuss your family inheritance? Come back when
you have decided and leave me in peace."

Alessandro laughed. "In peace? You? So that you can continue to pour drinks
until you fall unconscious into your bed? Like you always do?"

"Alessandro! Language!" Her eyes pierced Luca. "And what is this about?
Bringing your boyfriend to our villa. You know that your father would turn
in his grave. You are a disgrace to our family."

"Family?" Alessandro harshly set his glass back upon the marble work surface.
"Do you care about the family? Come", he took Luca's sleeve and dragged him
out the back door. It led to an area of the garden that was protected by box
trees. He stopped at a low hill of earth overgrown with ivy and daisies. A
small wooden cross marked the head. It had no decoration. "That's my brother
Nardo. He died five years ago." Alessandro crouched and plucked dried leaves
from the grave. "There isn't even a name. He died of AIDS."

Luca was shocked and stared down. There wasn't even a name...

"That's the family's shame. They did nothing for him. They hid him until he
died a wretched death in a hospital for the poor. The Loggia del Bigallo
cared for him, the white monks. It was at the time when uncle Emilio fought
to become Mayor and he didn't need any scandal in the family. I suppose you've
heard nothing about it?"

"Definitely not", Luca mumbled. He was much too young to know about the
disease, like Alessandro must have been.

"I was thirteen, but I knew what was going on. I saw Nardo in hospital and
I saw him dying. I was the only one visiting him. And Anastasia." He looked
up and Luca couldn't read his face. It was closed. And sad. "My father
abandoned him. He didn't want to have anything to do with the pervert. And
now..."

"...you carry on the family's shame", Luca whispered.

"Right." Alessandro rose.

And his mother started to drink, Luca thought.

"That's the true face of the aristocracy, Luca", Alessandro said bitterly.
He shook his upper arms. "That's why I separate myself from them. I don't
want to end up like him. I'm a slut, but I'm a careful slut. And when I take
the millions I'll be free. I won't be dependent on their money. I'll have my
own palazzo. My own villa up here, or somewhere else. Why not in the Roman
Campagna? That would be far enough away from all this shit."
Luca freed himself. "You intend to take up the inheritance then? Marry and
have a son? For money? To get your own back on your family? But that's no
use to Nardo. He will still be dead."

Alessandro looked angry and turned his back on him. "Perhaps I want to show
Florence that the Gondi's can do something other than to reign a town."

"Alessandro?"

Luca turned at the sharp shout. Valentina was standing there, a fresh
filled glass in her hand. Alessandro passed Luca and stepped close to his
mother. "Salute, Mamma. Drink as long as you can. And when you have finished
you can lay beside your son." He sneered. "As a disgrace to our family."

He walked away, not looking back. Luca stood dumbfounded for a second, then
he ran after him. He reached him at the Ferrari, and hopped into it before
Alessandro started the engine and drove away; spraying gravel from under the
wheels.

Luca coughed. "What was that? Why are you treating your mother this way? Is
it her fault?"

"Her fault?" Alessandro laughed unkindly. "It was her fault as it was the
fault of all of us. She didn't try to stop what happened. She didn't care
for her son because she was afraid to become an outcast. No, my dear. It
is the men in the family. You've seen my uncle Arrigo. If I don't do what
they want, I'm an outcast too."

"But, that's what you want, isn't it?" Luca couldn't follow Alessandro's
illogical thoughts.

"Right." Alessandro clutched the steering wheel while he was speeding
through the village, passing the monument on the piazza and along down the
street. But this time he didn't choose the direction that would lead them
back to Florence, but one directly into the valley of the Mugello.
He stopped his car on a deserted country road. Swallows flew low over the
meadows and larks twittered high above in the violet sky. Crickets chirped
and the scent of bitter thyme and rosemary floated over the earth. Alessandro
sat and pondered, then he got out and strolled through the meadow. Luca was
fed up of being treated as a bystander. He jumped out of the car too. "What
do you want then? Why have you dragged me along like a total idiot in front
of your mother? Do you want to prove that you're the oh so pitiful last
offspring of an old family whose life is oh so hard? What are you missing?"

Alessandro turned furiously and gave him a baleful look. His cheeks were
glowing. But he said nothing. After a while of silent mutual glares Alessandro's
eyes became bleak and suddenly he looked miserable. "I'm sorry, amore. I
hadn't planned to confront my mother this way. I..." he made a helpless
gesture. "It was my way to show you my pain . Probably it was the wrong way
to go." He sat down between daisies and anemones and looked helpless like a
little boy. Luca sat beside him.

"Are you serious? Do you really want to take up the last will of your father?"
Alessandro nodded. Luca sighed and stretched out between the grass and flowers.
A bee was humming over his head. The larks were still twittering. "Then we won't
have anything in common anymore."

Alessandro looked down at him, bewildered.

"Yesterday you said you are out. You are gay. Everybody shall know. And now
this. Do you seriously think that you can tell the town you're a gay but are
determined to marry a girl to father a son? They will think it ludicrous and
will laugh at you."

"Nobody has ever laughed at a Gondi."

"Then you will be the first."

"I won't be the first to marry and live a secret life."

"For the people, yes", Luca said peeved. "And what about your soul?"
"Hey. It was you who said I could divorce and start my real life."

Luca sighed and shook his head. "That's not the same. And what will you do
when you study at Pisa? You'll find plenty of young men as substitute for
me. You won't waste a single thought about me. So, why is my opinion so
important?"

"And you? What if you find another boy? At the workshop for instance?"
Luca laughed. "In front of Dante and my father to watch me? Pah. That's
impossible."

"Anything is possible, amore", Alessandro whispered. He bent over Luca
and opened the belt, holding his jeans. He pulled down the zipper and
stroked Luca's abdomen. It was more a soothing gesture than one to arouse
his sexual feelings. Nonetheless it did that for Luca. "You think you can
solve anything with sex", he grumbled. "You still need to decide. I don't
believe you when you say you have already. You're still fighting with
yourself. What if your uncle insists that you stay in Florence in order to
chose a girl? What if you can't study?"

Alessandro's fingers stopped stroking Luca's warm, raising meat. He hadn't
thought about that. If the decision was to study or to accept the conditions
of the last will, he knew what he would do.

"If I can't study I'll turn it down", he said solemnly. "To become a
historian is the only thing I ever wanted."

"Is that a promise?"

Alessandro nodded and closed Luca's lips with his own.




Luca plucked dried grass and leaves from Alessandro's hair when they
arrived back at the town again. There, in the meadow, in Sandro's arms,
it was easy to forget. But Firenze's gloomy presence embraced them and
the warm Spring's afternoon was giving a cheerless touch. Although he did
think that his hometown could shine in the sun, and make everyone forget
the unfriendly, fortress-like appearance. A town where the tourists were
driven through like a herd of swine, where the bars were filled up by noon,
the shutters were closed to stop the heat and the shops were closed until
late afternoon.

When Luca and Alessandro arrived home, they found Alessandro's uncle Arrigo
lounging in an armchair, staring into the empty fire side in the living
room.

"You are finally here, nephew", he said, eying an annoyed Luca behind
Alessandro's back. "I see you've brought your boyfriend into our house?"

"You have your own house, zio", Alessandro said cool. "So why are you
here?"

"To have a word with you, in private."

Alessandro restrained himself. What a chain of unhappy meetings, he thought.
"Go up and wait for me", he whispered into Luca's ear, who then disappeared
reluctantly. He waited though around the corner and listened. He didn't want
to be dismissed like a servant.

"Fine", Alessandro took his place in the other armchair and stretched out
his legs. Revolted Arrigo eyed the grass spots upon his nephew's shirt.

"We all wait for your decision, Alessandro. I don't have to stress that it
is strictly a family matter. Nobody else needs to be involved. We gathered
our wealth across the centuries and no cent of it should be lost. To give
it to the church is unacceptable."

"So why do you dismiss father's last will then? If you search for someone
to complain to then go to his grave and complain there. He's the one that
has put me into this difficult position and nobody else."
Arrigo laughed. "That's an odd remark, nephew. Matteo knew very well what
you would decide. We have nothing to do with the church, nor with the
Dominican monks for God's sake." He made the sign of cross. Alessandro
watched it taken aback.


"I thought you at least had respect for our family chapel in the church
that belongs to that order", he said. "How old is it? Eight hundred years?
What do you think our ancestors would say if they could hear you talking
like this?"

Arrigo bent forward. A vein at his temple started to pulsate.

"You couldn't even bring yourself to lay your other nephew to rest at
our family tomb at San Miniato", Alessandro continued. "It's the anniversary
 of his death by the way. Have you been there?"

"Your brother doesn't matter. He brought himself an early death. Deserved
it by all means."

Alessandro turned his eyes to the high, wooden ceiling. What for heaven's
sake had he done to deserve such a speech. "May I ask you on which planet
you live, zio? What have we done to deserve such hatred? Have you opened
your eyes and looked around? When was there a time when Firenze wasn't
homosexual?"

"Eh? What are you talking about?"

"And you don't want to ruin my reputation as the womanizer of the town,
do you. Everybody believes that I could impregnate half of the town if I
just wanted to, right?"

"Then do what we want you to do, we expect nothing more. Go and fuck the
whole female inhabitants of the town, I don't mind. But give us a son."
Alessandro rose. "If you weren't such an empty nut you could had done it
yourself already."

Arrigo almost leapt from his chair and punched Alessandro's face. Alessandro
jerked back and wiped his mouth. The corner of his mouth was bleeding.
Revolted he turned. "That's all you can do, zio. Hit people. Congratulations."
He stood at the door. "What will you do to stop me from taking up my study
at Pisa? Do you want to hold me here until I've married?"

"You can bet that I will."

Alessandro turned and walked out of the room, up the stairs, passing Luca
without seeing him.

Arrigo stormed out of the room, bumped into Luca, gave him a push and
slammed the door behind him. Luca ran upstairs, caught up with Alessandro
on the staircase and looked into his face. "You're bleeding."

"Were you spying from around the corner?" Alessandro hissed.

Luca pulled out a tissue and wiped Alessandro's lips. "It isn't bad", he
said. Alessandro stopped him.

"I hadn't thought your family was such a plague", Luca said quietly when
they entered Alessandro's room.
"Now you know. And how difficult it is to resist them? What shall I do?"

"Act like an adult for the first time in your life and resist. For your
own sake."

"For my own sake", Alessandro repeated. "You've heard him. He will keep
me here in Florence."

"And how will he manage that? Kidnap you and hide you in his house?"

"Perhaps."

"But that's nonsense. I would know and then the police would know."
Alessandro looked Luca up and down. "You don't know how the Italian
government works, amore. Nobody will care."

Luca felt as if he was standing at an abyss. Was there really no way out?
Surely there must be. Alessandro couldn't be right. Nobody could stop a
young man who wanted to spend his life learning. Not even the old family
rules. "Does this mean you'll give up?"

"No." Alessandro shook his head determined. "I'll turn down the inheritance.
Now I'm really going to show him."


To be continued