She crouches behind the
pigeon’s coop, the wire netting pressing hard against her face, makes herself
as small as possible, as invisible as possible, oblivious to the stench, dares
not breathe, listens for the step, his step ... there.
The metallic elevator door is
pushed open, it shuts rapidly with a huge clang, actually it needs to be held
in place whilst you get in, he curses heavily, he never manages to get in
before the door clangs shut, it is an old elevator, at last he gets in, and
closes it with a metallic bang. Heavy footsteps on the landing, fumbles at the
lock, key falls at his feet as it always does.
Hail Mary Full of Grace, save me, protect me,
cover me with your grace, Mother
Mary protect me,
protect him, please save me,
Oh! Mother, please, please save
me.
The door opens...
Lucia! O Lucia,
The sound reverberates, bursts
up and down the ten floors, bounces off every wall, ruthlessly penetrating
every home, distorting the quiet and the blessed peace of the dewy morning.
Unsteadily he moves to the terrace, past the pigeon coops, palpates the air
hazily, searches, searches, she stifles a scream, his unsteady hand brushes
past her face placed so close against the wire netting, then he staggers into
the living room, falls at the foot of the sofa fast asleep. He sleeps snoring loudly;
the room reeks of cheap wine, she tiptoes to their room.
Mother
Mary, Thank you, You in your Blessed Goodness have saved me
She is Lucia the caretaker of
a small apartment complex, ten apartments; her work is to clean the apartments,
check for payments, verify if any repairs need to be done. Every day, very
early in the day she starts at the very bottom of the apartment complex, works her
way through to the top, cleaning, vacuuming, all the while humming a cheerful
hymn. The Owner likes her work, she gets a salary but the owner also allows her
the use of a small apartment at the top of the building with a little terrace
where she breeds pigeons.
Actually, her vigil and her
tremendous fear begin at a quarter to five when she knows that he at his garage
would be packing his lunch box, his serviette in a bag he always carries. She knows
he will then leave the garage where he works; actually he should reach home, it
is but a short distance …
It is six…
It is seven…
He should have been home,
reading a magazine, feeding the pigeons, maybe just relaxing on the sofa tired
after a long day at the garage, talking to her about his colleagues, narrating
stories about Mario who really is very fond of women.
They should be eating a thick
broth with fresh vegetables that she has bought at the market, dipping chunks
of bread in the delicious hot broth. Or eating a pigeon casserole with a dainty
salad but….
Of course there are days when
he does return home at six, those are the happiest days of her life. The house
is filled with laughter; a delicious aroma of hot broth permeates the house. Yes,
sometimes…
It is nine…
If he does not return till ten,
then she knows he will not come home till dawn…
Lucia! O Lucia…
Mother Mary help him,
Mother Mary intercede for me,
Oh! Sweet Jesus through the
intercession of Mother Mary come to my aid.
Mother Mary help him, let him
not fall under the wheels of a car,
let him not knock his head on
the corner of the pavement.
Lucia is a cheerful person; most
of the times she is filled with a deep serenity and sweetness that helps her go
on with life, at other times she is filled with dread.
How she would have loved to
have lit her Jesus and Mary candle
sung her hymns out loud just like Father Romão does in his baritone voice.
Sadly, the moment she starts singing in her sweet, humble voice there are complaints,
she is singing too loudly.
She thinks, the apartment
complex surrounded by traffic, how would one little hymn matter so much? But
look at it from the tenant’s point of view she thinks,
There is the pilot, who flies at
all odd hours,
There is the surgeon, who
operates sometimes through the night,
There is the old man who needs
his rest, the colicky baby; yes they all need their sleep.
And who is she, but a lowly
caretaker.
Oh yes, she does sing her
hymns in a quiet composed manner, not the full throated voice that she would have
loved to, much advocated by Father Romão.
But one day her calm and
sweetness changed to bitterness and anger. It all began when the solicitor from
the fifth floor approached her on the pretext of a lost receipt and said;
‘Dona Lucia, how are you?’
‘Fine, Senhor Doutor, how may
I help you Sir?’
‘Oh it’s nothing, just a receipt I have misplaced;
I need it for audit purposes’
And while she is looking for
it, in the tiny office at the bottom of the apartment complex, he just blurts it
out.
‘Dona Lucia, if ever you want
a divorce I will do whatever I can for you’. ‘After all, it is just a matter of
paperwork.’
Before she can even recover
her composure, the solicitor continues without any hesitation.
‘Do let me know Dona Lucia, when
you need any certificates for your divorce or any
witnesses to testify on your behalf,
believe me there are two witnesses on each floor willing to testify in your
favour.’
But what really got her incensed was the
Social Worker on the second floor.
‘Hello Dona Lucia, how are
you? Ummm I know you have a terrible time at home.’
Before she could even take a
deep breath, the Social worker continued.
‘O Lucia, these are modern
days, women Do Not have to be subjugated, we women
have Rights you know, there is
something called Individual Rights of a Woman.’ ‘Think about it’
It was then that it struck
her; the realization came as a shock. They all had got together and discussed
her!
How could they have done that?
How had they dared do that?
Did they not realise that she
was an individual in her own right?
How could they tear her
self-respect in shreds just because she was a poor caretaker?
Just because they were
financially well-off?
And what about her alliance
before God? Was she not a part of an alliance made on
Earth but blessed in Heaven?
What fate awaited her if she
got divorced, what respect did she have in Society?
How would she go to church
alone on Sundays?
Who would push those heavy
cupboards when the need arose?
Who would blast those random
shots in the air when there were sounds and threats
from burglars trying to rob
cars?’
There was so much she could not do on her own.
Say what you may, her husband was after all a quiet man when sober, did he
interfere with Them? Had he ever said anything to Them?
Tell me which husband handed
over his entire pay packet to his wife, although sadly
after the binges there was not
much left , but Men will be Men, whatever was there she had it safely hidden.
There were so many husbands
who did not allow their wives the liberty of going to
Church practically every day,
but did he ever stop her? Did he even care if she spoke to Father Romão
constantly about the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Blessed Sweet Jesus? No he did
not. He did not bother her.
So how dare they plan for her,
collude, talk about her small problems, which wife did not have problems tell
me?’ ‘Most of all how dare They, what audacity to plan and decide a life full
of loneliness for her.
They knew nothing about her,
nothing at all…. and yet they had decided for her, had it all figured out for
her without even asking her. She was so consumed with rage. She could spit on
their faces; imagine trying to get her to divorce her husband, trying to give
her a life of endless loneliness. …..
And then a strange calm
descended upon her, the Blessed Virgin Mary was helping her to be strong. The Blessed Virgin Mary would cover her with Her own mantle. The Blessed Virgin Mary would intercede with the Blessed Sweet Jesus on her behalf.
A strange peaceful smile shone
on her face. No more hiding behind the pigeon’s coop, no more would those tenants
hear the deafening yells
Lucia! O Lucia
because as soon as he opens the
door he would see her, she would be sitting there waiting for him…….
And that is what happens, the metallic elevator door
opens, then rapidly shuts with a huge bang, he curses heavily, he never manages
to get in before the door closes, he gets in at last, and closes it with a
metallic clang, heavy footsteps on the landing, fumbles at the lock, key falls
at his feet as it always does.
As she expects, he is
stupefied, blearily he blinks at her, even through the alcoholic haze he just
stares at her, he just cannot believe himself …
She runs to him, gently pulls
him to the bedroom, he follows her meekly, hypnotised by her presence, she
removes his grease stained clothes gently, as if undressing a baby.
She smiles, no ear splitting, deafening
bellows,
Lucia! O Lucia.
Feverishly, with glazed eyes he
stoops down to pick up his brown coat. He searches his coat pockets hurriedly.
Triumphantly he removes his lighter from his front pocket. His eyes glaze over
as he glances at the lighter. He licks his lips in anticipation. He smiles. This
is something he has looked forward to for such a long time, and then he whirs
and lights it….
He breathes in sharply when he
sees the flame, inhales the sharp pungent odour, savours it...
Then he reaches across to her...
She decides, even if he brings
the flame close to me I will gently move away...
No, he reaches over and picks
up the Jesus Mary candle. Her precious candle, given
to her by Father Romão. Lights it. Savours the sight, licking his lips gently.
Then he grabs her nylon nightdress
and gently touches it to the blazing Jesus Mary candle.
The nylon burns for a moment, then
it dies down...
She rubs herself against the
wall, the fire dies, dies a little more...
And then flares up suddenly, bright
orange like the dying Sun...
She rolls on the living room
carpet...
She runs down the service
staircase, fire engulfing her in a bright orange...
At the fifth floor the flames
crackle loudly as she falls in front of the solicitor’s apartment...
Salve Regina mãe de misericordia, vida
doçura,esperança nossa,
Mother Mary be the mantle that
covers her in the purple haze of the dawn.
Open your wings sweet Mary, oh
Advocate of Justice
Fly, take the gentle caretaker
with You oh sweet Blessed Virgin Mary
Take her to
the waiting stretcher, Sweet Jesus; raise Your eyes to the tenants, silently
weeping for this precious life, lilac shadows at their windows on her last
beautiful dawn.
Carry her Oh Sweet Jesus and
Blessed Virgin Mary from this Valley of Tears.
Take her gently silently, with
tender care Oh Sweet Jesus, Oh Blessed Virgin Mary with no screech of the
siren, with no sounds, with no nylon nightdress, with no hair, with no skin
And let her live with You, Oh Sweet
Jesus, Oh Blessed Virgin Mary, in Heaven forever and ever Amen.
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