Shaken to the Core Page 12

  “I’m impressed. You’re really good with languages, has anyone ever told you that?”

  Giuliana’s cheeks turned pink. “I like to speak with people.”

  Quickly, Kate set up her equipment and adjusted the bellows so the lens could focus on the fascinating lines on the women’s faces. She used three glass plates on them, just to make sure she’d get at least one good photograph.

  When they finally continued on their way, Kate glanced back over her shoulder. “I wonder what they were thinking.”

  Giuliana laughed. “That you are a crazy Miricani.”

  Kate joined her laughter. “Probably.”

  “Can I carry this for you?” Giuliana asked, pointing at the carrying case. “It looks very heavy.”

  Kate hesitated. She’d never entrusted her camera and the fragile glass plates to anyone else. “That’s all right. It’s not all that heavy.”

  Just a few steps down the path, they stopped again to watch four gray-haired men play some kind of game. Metal balls clacked against each other as they were rolled down the path.

  They sat on a nearby bench and watched the game.

  “It is called bocce ball,” Giuliana explained.

  “How is it played?” Kate asked.

  “See the little white ball?”

  One of the balls was indeed smaller than the others. Kate nodded.

  “It is called pallino,” Giuliana said. “That means bullet. The men try to get their balls close to the pallino.”

  Just then, one of the men managed to roll his metal ball so close to the smaller ball that when it stopped, the two balls were touching. The other men laughed, shouted, and pounded him on the back.

  “That is called baci—kisses—because the ball and the pallino touch like they were…” Giuliana flushed and trailed off.

  Because Kate didn’t know what to say to that, she pulled out the camera and took a photograph of the men playing. Now she had just one unexposed glass plate left, and she knew exactly what she wanted to use it on. She set the camera down on her lap and turned on the bench so she was facing Giuliana. “Have you ever had your photograph taken?”

  “Me?” Giuliana’s voice came out as a squeak.

  Kate smiled. “Yes, you.”

  “No one wants a picture of me.”

  Yes, I do. Kate felt her cheeks grow warm at the thought, but she could admit to herself that it was true. Giuliana might not look like the women in the fancy fashion magazines her mother subscribed to, but her big brown eyes and the way she smiled, without any pretenses, were beautiful. Kate held back the words. Instead, she said, “I bet your mother would love to have one. You said she hasn’t seen you in years. You could send her the photograph.”

  Giuliana nibbled on her plump bottom lip.

  “Come on.” Kate gave her a gentle nudge with one elbow. “I promise it won’t hurt a bit.”

  “All right. What must I do? Smile or put up my hair—”

  Kate interrupted her rambling with a quick touch to her arm. “No. Don’t do a thing. Just sit there and watch the men playing, like you’ve been doing.” She wanted a photograph of Giuliana that showed her the way she really was, not the way she thought others wanted her to look.

  When Giuliana turned back toward the men, Kate stood and moved a few steps away from the bench. She slid her last glass plate holder into the back of the camera. “Can you turn your head a little to the left? Yes, that’s great.” Now Giuliana’s entire face was in the sun, and Kate wouldn’t have to expose the plate for too long. Kate ducked and put her eye to the ground-glass viewfinder. A flap at the back of the camera shielded the screen and made it easier to see the upside-down image. Even through the viewfinder, the quiet strength in Giuliana’s features was stunning. Kate only hoped that she could do it justice.

  She fussed with the bellows and adjusted the lens standard forward and backward until she had everything just the way she wanted. Only one chance to get it right and she wasn’t about to waste it.

  Finally, she held her breath and released the shutter. With a soft click and whir, the glass plate was exposed. A little sorry to lose her excuse to look at Giuliana so closely, Kate pushed the bellows and lens back into the box and closed the bed of the camera. She couldn’t wait to get home, develop the negatives, and print the photographs.

  As they left the park and crossed Filbert Street, Kate started to notice the mouthwatering scents coming out of nearly every house. The aroma of frying tomatoes, garlic, and herbs that Kate didn’t know drifted over, making her stomach growl. The sounds of an accordion came from a building three houses down from the corner. A bronze sign above the door read Luigi’s trattoria, and a handwritten piece of cardboard beneath it announced that you could get pasta, an entrée, coffee, and a bottle of wine for as little as twenty-five cents.

  “Come.” Giuliana pulled her toward the trattoria. “I buy lunch.” When Kate opened her mouth to protest, she added, “You bring me ice for my ankle and did not let me pay. If we are friends, you cannot pay all the time.”

  Well, prices here were much more affordable than in the restaurants Kate was used to, so she nodded and followed Giuliana in. The interior was unlike the luxurious restaurants she frequented too. No chandeliers hung from the low-beamed ceiling, and instead of thick carpet, sawdust was spread over the floor. The scarred wood table wasn’t covered by a snow-white tablecloth. But the heavenly scents drifting in from the kitchen made Kate forget everything else as she sat across from Giuliana on a wooden bench.

  She was used to ordering in expensive French restaurants, but the menu in this eatery had her stumped. Her parents thought of the Italian cuisine as something poor people ate, so she’d never had Italian food. The names of the dishes made her scratch her head. Spitini…Caponata…Sammorigghiu. She had no idea what all of that was. “Help!”

  Giuliana laughed, a gentle sound that didn’t make Kate feel bad. Then the laughter stopped abruptly. “I would help you, but…” She ducked her head and lowered her voice. “I cannot read.”

  “Oh.” Kate cleared her throat. “I can. We should be able to figure it out if we work together.”

  Giuliana had a skeptical expression on her face, but she obediently got up, rounded the table, and slid onto the bench next to Kate so they could look at the same menu.

  Line for line, they went over it, with Kate trying to pronounce each dish and Giuliana trying to figure out what she was saying. Often, they burst into laughter when Kate mispronounced a word and it finally dawned on Giuliana what she was attempting to say.

  The other patrons of the eatery started to look over at them. But instead of the disapproving glares they would have gotten in the city’s finer restaurants, people were laughing with them.

  A middle-aged man came to their table. He embraced Giuliana as if she were a long-lost relative and planted kisses on her cheeks. Then he held her at arm’s length and studied her. “Bona sira, Giuliana. Comu si senti?”

  Giuliana hesitated for a second before smiling and saying, “Unn c’è mali, grazii. E lei?”

  “Bonu.” He patted her shoulder and glanced over at Kate, who just smiled and felt a little stupid for not understanding a word.

  This must be what it had been like for Giuliana when she had first arrived in San Francisco. Kate’s admiration for her increased by leaps and bounds.

  “Mè amíca nun parra Sicilànu,” Giuliana said.

  “Ah. I am Luigi. Welcome to my ristoranti.” He gave Kate a friendly smile, his words colored by the same rich accent Giuliana had. “Can I help you with the list?”

  “Um, excuse me?”

  He gestured at the menu.

  Kate and Giuliana looked at each other and then shook their heads. “No, thank you,” Kate said.

  After two more kisses to the cheeks for Giuliana, Luigi walked away.

  “He’s very…friendly. Do you know him well?” Kate asked when he was out of earshot.

  “He is from Sicilia,” Giuliana answered as if t
hat explained it all.

  Maybe it did.

  They took their time, but after a while, Giuliana had explained what each item on the menu was.

  The list of foreign names and exotic dishes made Kate’s head spin. Or maybe it was the way Giuliana’s leg touched the length of hers as they sat close on the bench so they could both look at the menu. She tried to make herself move away and put a bit of space between them, but it was as if a magnetic pull existed between their bodies. Finally, she decided that it was just an innocent bit of human contact that she would allow herself.

  “Do you know?” Giuliana asked. “What do you want to eat?”

  “I have no idea. It all sounds good. You’ve been here before, right?”

  Giuliana nodded. “Sometimes, when Turi and I sold a lot of fishes.”

  “So, if you can’t read, how did you know what to get?”

  “Easy.” A broad grin chased away the shadows from Giuliana’s eyes that had lurked there when she’d talked about her brother. “I always eat the same. Bucatini con le sarde.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Noodles with sardines.” Giuliana licked her lips. “It is my favorite food from back home.”

  “Then let’s order that,” Kate said.

  Giuliana smiled and signaled to Luigi across the room. Once they had ordered, she got up and moved back to her side of the table.

  Kate rubbed her leg beneath the table. It felt strangely cold.

  In short order, two plates of steaming food were set down in front of them.

  The plate heaped with golden pasta made Kate’s mouth water, but she still couldn’t imagine she’d manage to eat all of it. “What is it called again?” she asked once they were alone again.

  “Bucatini con le sarde,” Giuliana said. “But when Papà came to the home with an empty net, we had to eat bucatini con le sarde scappate.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Noodles with escaped sardines.” Giuliana grinned. “That is a joke poor people make who cannot buy fishes.”

  Kate had to admit to herself that she couldn’t imagine how it had to feel to go hungry or to eat pasta day in and day out, without meat or fish. She admired the Sicilian people for being able to joke about it.

  Giuliana inhaled the scent of her noodles. Her eyes fluttered closed, and the shadows of happy memories ghosted over her face.

  With her fork and knife hovering over her own plate, Kate watched her. Rarely had she seen Giuliana so unguarded, so happy yet at the same time a little sad. She had to miss her family something fierce. Kate’s heart went out to her.

  When Giuliana opened her eyes, Kate quickly directed her attention back to her own plate and started to cut up the bucatini—long, thin noodles with a hole in it, like edible straws.

  “Oh, no!” Giuliana pushed back her own plate with a horrified expression. “That is not how to eat bucatini.”

  Kate eyed the pasta. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes. Look. This is how you do it.” Giuliana picked up a fork and a big spoon and twirled a few strands of her own pasta around her fork until she had created a small ball that she lifted to her mouth without creating a mess. “Now you try.”

  Kate took her fork and twisted a small bundle of bucatini around it, but somehow it kept growing and growing. No way could she fit that into her mouth, so she had to start over again. It took her a few tries, but she finally managed to form a small pasta beehive and lift it to her mouth.

  A blend of contrasting flavors exploded on her tongue—the salty aroma of the sardines and a slight bitterness mixing with the sweetness of plump raisins. She barely managed to remember her manners and abstain from licking her fork.

  “This is wonderful,” she said to Giuliana, who beamed as if she had single-handedly cooked the dish and created the recipe.

  Somehow, they both managed to empty their plates and even ordered a dessert, a light, foamy custard called zabaglione. Giuliana explained that it was made of egg yolks, marsala wine, and sugar beaten over a pan of simmering water.

  Maybe it was the marsala, or maybe it was their laughter and the warm atmosphere in the small restaurant, but by the time they left the trattoria, Kate felt a little light-headed. She didn’t want their afternoon to end, but neither did she know how to prolong it.

  They walked back down Montgomery Avenue toward the tower under construction, where they’d left behind the automobile.

  When they were about to cross Broadway, a young man blocked their path.

  Kate tensed and tried to tug Giuliana behind her, but Giuliana refused to take cover. She laughed, hugged the young man, and kissed him on both cheeks.

  Stunned, Kate observed this open display of affection. Her mother would wash out her mouth with carbolic soap if she ever dared to greet a man like this, especially out on the street, for everyone to see. Who was he? Was he courting Giuliana, and that was why she greeted him so intimately? Or was it a custom in Sicily? Luigi had kissed Giuliana’s cheeks too.

  Giuliana and the stranger began chatting in their own language. Kate stood back, feeling foolish and left out. She clutched the carrying case more tightly and cleared her throat.

  That made Giuliana’s gaze dart over to her. “Oh, scusa. Sorry. This is Calogero Alioto. He is from my village, Santa Flavia.” She turned toward the bearded man, gestured toward Kate, and spoke to him in their own language.

  Kate caught the words “signurina Kate,” which probably meant Miss Kate. So Giuliana had introduced her as her employer’s daughter, not as a friend. She wondered what else Giuliana told him about her.

  The young man tipped his hat at Kate and continued to talk to Giuliana.

  Not understanding a word, Kate observed the way Giuliana talked with her hands, expressing herself with her entire body. It was beautiful, but at the same time, it made Kate sad because she’d never seen Giuliana come to life that way when talking to her.

  After a while, the man let out a gasp, making Kate wonder what Giuliana had told him. He pulled Giuliana into his arms and hugged her tightly. They talked for another minute and then exchanged two kisses on the cheeks before separating.

  When they continued on their way, Giuliana was quiet.

  Kate glanced over and did a double take. Was that a tear in Giuliana’s eye? Was it that heartbreaking for her to say good-bye to that young man? Kate failed to see what was so special about him. His nose was too long for his face; his beard had to tickle when Giuliana kissed him, and judging from the way he dressed, he was as poor as a church mouse.

  Oh, come on now. Since when do you judge people by how much money they have? But her resentment toward the stranger wouldn’t abate.

  When they climbed into the automobile, Giuliana dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

  Kate pulled out her handkerchief and handed it to her. “Here.”

  “Thank you.” Giuliana blew her nose. She looked back and forth between Kate and the handkerchief as if not knowing what to do with it. “Eh, I wash it for you.”

  “That’s all right. I don’t care about the stupid thing. Tell me what’s going on.” Kate pointed toward Broadway, where they had met Giuliana’s…friend. “Is he your betrothed?”

  “What?” Giuliana’s brows pinched together as if she needed a moment to remember what that word meant. Then her eyes widened. “Oh, no. No. He is a friend. He came to Merica with us, but Calogero did not want to be a fisherman anymore. He works at the docks, carrying things when the big ships come in. I did not see him in many months. I…I spoke to him about Turi.”

  Kate bit her lip until she tasted blood. How stupid of her to resent Calogero. She wanted to wrap her arms around Giuliana and hug her, the way he had done, but she didn’t dare.

  “I asked him to write a letter to my mamma. I wanted to do this right away, but…” Giuliana sighed. “I did not know how to tell her. My mamma…her heart will break the day she hears what happened to Turi.”

  Kate didn’t know what to say. Words seemed
so inadequate, so she reached over and squeezed Giuliana’s hand.

  Giuliana stilled, not moving her fingers beneath Kate’s. After a moment, she turned her hand and squeezed back.

  They sat like that for a moment, the automobile’s engine the only sound between them. Finally, Kate pulled back her hand and put it on the steering wheel. “Home?”

  Giuliana nodded.

  CHAPTER 8

  Winthrop Residence

  Nob Hill

  San Francisco, California

  April 9, 1906

  When Kate had wanted to disappear into her darkroom after returning from her stroll through the Italian quarter, her parents had protested, saying she hardly spent any time with them anymore. So it wasn’t until Monday after lunch that she got around to developing the photographs.

  She left the most important plates until last. Now, with all the other photographs printed, she gently picked up the last four rectangular pieces of printing paper and placed them in the tray with the developing solution.

  In the glow of her amber safelight, she watched as images started to emerge. Slowly, the lines on the faces of the old women appeared on the print, looking as lifelike as they had yesterday, when she had captured the image.

  Kate let out a giddy little sound. Along with the photograph of the men playing bocce ball, these were the best pictures she’d ever taken. The Call’s editor would be a fool not to like them.

  There was only one photograph that she wouldn’t show him. Kate stared down at Giuliana’s features emerging in the developer. She resisted the urge to swirl the picture with her print tongs to rush the process along. When she thought it was time, she gently picked up the images one by one with the tongs and dropped them into a stop bath for a few seconds to halt development. Next came the tray with the fixer, where they remained for a few minutes.

  It was a familiar, soothing ritual, and she enjoyed being in her darkroom, shut away from the world and her parents’ expectations. Her mother had told her over breakfast that William Jenkins had telephoned while Kate had been out yesterday. He had asked her parents’ permission to take her out to the Palm Garden, one of the city’s finest restaurants, on Saturday. Of course, her parents had immediately given their approval, not even waiting to hear what Kate wanted.