The Oil Jar and Other Stories

The Oil Jar and Other Stories Read Free Page A

Book: The Oil Jar and Other Stories Read Free
Author: Luigi Pirandello
Tags: General Fiction
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... Wait, wait here for a bit ...”
    â€œIf you,” Micuccio attempted to say, as anxiety tightened his throat, “if you think I ought to go ... ”
    â€œNo, wait a bit, I say,” the kind old lady hastened to reply, all embarrassed.
    â€œBut,” Micuccio responded, “I have no idea where to go in this town ... at this hour ... ”
    Aunt Marta left him, signaling to him with one of her gloved hands to wait, and entered the salon, in which a moment later Micuccio thought an abyss had opened; silence had suddenly fallen there. Then he heard, clear and distinct, these words of Teresina:
    â€œOne moment, gentlemen.”
    Again his sight grew dim with the imminence of her appearance. But Teresina did not come, and the conversation resumed in the salon. Instead, after a few minutes, which seemed an eternity to him, Aunt Marta came back, without her hat, without her mantilla, without her gloves, and less embarrassed.
    â€œLet’s wait here for a while, would that be all right?” she said to him. “I’ll stay with you ... Now they’re having supper ... We’ll remain here. Dorina will set this little table for us, and we’ll have supper together, here; we’ll reminisce about the good old days, all right? ... I can’t believe it’s true that I’m here with you, son, here, here, all by ourselves ... In that room, you understand, all those gentlemen ... She, poor girl, can’t avoid them ... Her career, you get my meaning? Ah, what can you do! ... Have you seen the newspapers? Big doings, son! As for me, I’m all at sea, all the time ... I can’t believe I can really be here with you, tonight.”
    And the kind old lady, who had gone on talking, instinctively, to keep Micuccio from having time to think, finally smiled and rubbed her hands together, looking at him compassionately.
    Dorina came to set the table hastily, because there, in the salon, the meal had already begun.
    â€œWill she come?” Micuccio asked gloomily, with a troubled voice. “I mean, at least to see her.”
    â€œOf course she’ll come,” the old lady immediately replied, making an effort to get out of her awkward situation. “Just as soon as she has a minute free: she’s already told me so.”
    They looked at each other and smiled at each other, as if they had finally recognized each other. Despite the embarrassment and the excitement, their souls had found the way to greet each other with that smile. “You’re Aunt Marta,” Micuccio’s eyes said. “And you’re Micuccio, my dear, good son, still the same, poor boy!” said Aunt Marta’s. But suddenly the kind old lady lowered her own eyes, so that Micuccio might not read anything else in them. Again she rubbed her hands together and said:
    â€œLet’s eat, all right?”
    â€œI’m good and hungry!” exclaimed Micuccio, quite happy and reassured.
    â€œLet’s cross ourselves first: here, in front of you, 1 can do it,” added the old lady in a mischievous manner, winking an eye, and she made the sign of the cross.
    The manservant came, bringing their first course. Micuccio observed with close attention the way that Aunt Marta transferred her helping from the serving platter. But when his turn came, as he raised his hands, it occurred to him that they were dirty from the long trip; he blushed, he got confused, he raised his eyes to steal a glance at the servant, who, now the height of good manners, nodded slightly to him and smiled, as if inviting him to serve himself. Fortunately Aunt Marta helped him out of his predicament.
    â€œHere, here, Micuccio, I’ll serve you.”
    He could have kissed her out of gratitude! Once he received his helping, as soon as the servant had withdrawn, he too crossed himself hurriedly.
    â€œGood boy!” Aunt Marta said to him.
    And he felt carefree, contented, and started eating as he had never

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