She threw a simple knitted shawl (one of her personal choosing in Saint Louis) around her shoulders, then she raced down the staircase, on through the spaciousness of the brightly lighted parlor, to the outdoors, and began to run down the gravel
road. Oh, if by fleeing now she could only escape the memories of Nathan's hands and lips. They would always be revolting to her. But now she was remembering another's mouth against hers. It was as though her lips were burning even now. “Why, oh, why, Alberto?” she whispered to herself.
Lifting her skirt, she stepped from the road, into the Indian grass, slowed by its thickness. But she continued to push her way through it, feeling the breeze lifting her hair from her shoulders, making it whip around her face. She wiped it back from hereyes, hurrying onward until she reached the iron bridge.
Panting, she ran across it and began to move in front of all the bleak houses that made up this town of Hawkinsville. Aromas from the privies rippled through the air, and the breeze carried coal dust upward to settle on her lips and face. She sneezed, then rushed on up the steps that led inside her Papa's house.
A fresher aroma met her as she moved into the front room. She recognized it as the distinct aroma of turnip greens with only a faint fragrance of vinegar intermingling. As she drew nearer to the kitchen, she could hear movement from within. She hurried her pace and stopped when she entered, seeing her Papa even more slumped, and much, much too thin, making her heart ache.
“Papa?” she whispered. When he turned, she saw the familiar distortion to his face, knowing this to be the usual wad of chewing tobacco he kept formed into a cheek.
“Maria?” he said, paling. “My .. . Maria .. . ?”
Maria went to him and hugged him to her, seeing through his thin wisps of hair the signs of coal dust on his scalp and in the lines of his face as he searched hers
“Are you truly all right, Maria?” he said, tears causing his eyes to redden. “I was so worried. I had no idea why you would have gone with that. . . that. . . Nathan Hawkins.”
“This is why I have come home, Papa,” she said, sniffling. “To tell you the reasons. But, first. I have to see Alberto. Has he come home? I have a desperate need to speak with him first.”
“No. Alberto isn't here. Why? What has happened?”-He pulled away from her, going to pull the pot of turnip greens from the stove. Then he slouched down onto a kitchen chair, wheezing hard.
Maria saw the laboring of his breath. She went to him and touched his brow. “Papa. You aren't breathing naturally. Has your … health … worsened?”
He hung his head, inhaling and exhaling even more laboriously. “No. I'm all right,” he mumbled. With his hand, he covered the area over his heart, sighing deeply. “No. Now I am all right.” His gaze met Maria's and held. “Now. What is this about Alberto?”
Maria swung her skirt around and went to stand at the back window, wringing her hands nervously. “It is something between Alberto and myself, Papa,” she murmured. “Please understand. I cannot tell you.”
“He's done something foolish. Tell me what it is. He's acted strangely since coming to America.”
Maria went to the table and pulled a chair from beneath it and sat down onto it. “Like I said, Papa,” she said, her eyes wavering. “It's between me and Alberto. Where is he? Please tell me.”
“He took the wagon just as soon as we arrived home from the mine,” Giacomo said. “I have no idea where he went.”
Maria knew. She cast her eyes downward, thinking her Papa might be able to see some truth in the depths of her eyes. “Well, then I will have to seek him out later,” she murmured. Again she met her Papa's gaze. “Now I must explain why I went away with Nathan Hawkins.” She swallowed hard, then held her left hand toward her Papa, letting him see the largeness of the diamond that had been given her after the words had been spoken between her and Nathan, the words that had sealed .. . their . .. union. She chewed on her lower lip, watching her Papa's expression change to disbelief. .. then anger. He pushed himself up from the chair, breathing hard once again.
“You can't tell me that you have wed that. . . that evil man,” he said, amost choking. He leaned his full weight on the edge of the table, teetering. “Maria, why? Why?”
Maria rose and rushed to him, trying to embrace him, only to be brushed angrily aside. “Papa, if you will let me explain, then you will fully understand,” she cried. “You will see that what I have done was .. . quite . . . necessary.”
“Nothing would be explanation enough, Maria,” he said, moving from the room.
Maria felt an iciness fill her veins. Had she been wrong? Should she have refused Nathan Hawkins? Had he only been bluffing? Maybe he wouldn't even have done what he had threatened. She hung her head in her hands, sobbing. She cried for a few moments, then followed her Papa into the front room where he sat, staring out the window into space.
Maria fell to her knees in front of him. “Papa?” she whispered, taking his hands in hers. “Now you listen. You just listen to what I have to say. Then you will know that I only did this to make all of our lives better.. ..”
His dark eyes sought hers out, heavy and brooding. “You mean your life, don't you, Maria?” he said, accusingly.
“No. No, Papa,” she cried. “Please listen.”
“All right, tell me,” he said thickly. “Tell your Papa why you have disgraced the Lazzaro family's name . . . and all the Italians in this community. Tell me how you can let that craggly faced devil. . . touch … the flesh … of your beautiful.. . body. . ..”
Chapter Fifteen
Alberto drew the horse to a halt next to Ruby's fence, staring at the house. He knew that he was a bit too early and that he wasn't cleaned up as usual after his day of working, but he had nowhere else to go. Ruby's had become his second home. She seemed to know him so well now. She had even consoled him when he had failed to have sexual success with any of her girls. He wiped at the tears in his eyes, feeling so weak, so unmanly. He needed to prove himself a man even more this early evening than at any time before. Maybe Ruby herself could take him to a room and bring out the man inside him. He had the desires . . . the needs of a man. Surely someone as skilled as Ruby could ease his inner torment. Up to this time, her consoling had only taken the form of words.
He jumped from the wagon and tied the reins to a hitching post, then entered through the gate, eyeing the dogs cautiously. They came to him, sniffing, then went on their way. He was glad that they had finally grown used to him. He had always feared dogs and the sharpness of their teeth, especially these two that Ruby depended on for safety.
Trembling, Alberto went to the front door and tapped lightly. Thrusting his hands in his rear breeches pockets, he stood with bowed head. He could still feel, the softness of Maria's lips and what they had caused to stir inside him. Shame once again flooded his thoughts. How .. . could he . . . have . . . ? What must Maria be thinking . . . ?