Week Thirteen Storytelling: Upon a Hill

“There’s something wrong with papa.” Gianna tugged on my apron, looking up at me with her big sad eyes.

My blood ran cold, and I quickly wiped the grease off my hands. Following Gianna’s small frame, she led me into the living room.

On the floor lay my father, flat on his back near the fire.

“Where are Rosalia and Mariella?” I felt his forehead before pulling the blankets up higher. Papa mumbled his appreciation before tumbling back into fitful sleep. He’s getting worse.

“Rosie went out with Piero, and Mari wanted crepes today.”

“Crepes,” I muttered incredulously. “Will you fetch me a washcloth, Gianna?”

She nodded before tottering off.

His condition isn’t improving. I sighed. The Pellegrino’s clock needs to be repaired by tomorrow. How am I going to finish in time?

“Is there any medication left?”

Gianna shook her head and handed me the towel.

“Nothing is working.” I wiped my father’s forehead, watching as the water droplets ran into his white hair. Gianna curled into my side. “We’ll have a family meeting when they get home.”

*

By the time both of my older sisters had returned, Gianna and I had made dinner and had the laundry drying outside.

“You were both supposed to watch over him today!” I yelled as loudly as I could without risking waking Papa.

“Gia was here.” Rosalia rolled her eyes. “Besides, if I can get Piero to propose, we can afford a bigger house that isn’t drafty.”

I glared at her.

“And medication. Of course,” she finished, trying to cover up her own greed.

“I couldn’t finish the Pellegrino’s clock because I had to take your shifts. They’re coming tomorrow! What’s your excuse, Mariella?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need one. No one put you in charge when Mama died. Don’t forget that I’m still two years older than you.”

“Then why don’t you act it and show some responsibility. Did you use any of our money?”

Her gaze shifted uncomfortably away from me.

“Answer me, Mari.”

“It was only a few cents.”

“Papa will die if we can’t buy the medicine! He might die even with it!” I ran my hands through my hair. “I’m going to try to finish the Pellegrinos’ clock. Don’t bother me.”

I locked the door to the cramped work room and didn’t come out until dawn.

*

Despite completing the order for the Pellegrinos, they couldn’t pay me.

“I will have to beg the doctor to make the tonic again. I only wish that it would work this time.”

*

“If you can’t pay Tiziana, I can’t give you anything.” The physician crossed his arms.

“Please, he’ll die without it!” I offered him all the money I had.

“He’d die even if I did give it to you.” The old man shook his head, slowly closing his door. “Be gone. Don’t make a bigger fool out of yourself.”

“Please! How can I go back to my sisters?” I banged on the door to no avail.

What am I going to tell Gia? I thought of Gianna’s sad eyes, Mariella’s fear hidden behind a tough façade, and the disgusted look in Rosalia’s eyes every time Piero touched her. I can’t go home empty handed.

*

“They were counting on me.” I placed the wildflowers next to the rough stone. “If you were here, you’d know what to do, Mama.”

The sun was already slipping dangerously close to the horizon. Soon, one of my sisters would be sent to look for me.

“Just tell me what I should do.” I sat quietly, staring at her small grave marker beneath the tree until I heard a noise.

A deer darted through the woods, startling me.

Is this my sign? It stopped and turned around to look at me.

I glanced back at the road to town before following the deer farther into the woods.

*

As soon as it had grown dark, I lost the deer and had to resort to blind stumbling through the forest.

Even if I wanted to turn back now, I have no idea which way to go. I shivered in the night air.

Up ahead, I finally spotted a light in the distance. Maybe I can ask for directions back to town or warm up by a fire for a little bit.

As I got closer, I realized the light came from an estate so large it was almost a castle.

Another gust of wind blew through me, casting a handful of snowflakes into my hair.

Rushing towards the huge wooden doors, I knocked twice before letting myself in.

“Excuse me? Is anyone home?” I called, my voice echoing through the grand foyer. I quickly spotted the fire and rushed to warm my frozen fingers beside it.

“How dare you trespass!” A man was towering over me before I even realized it. A large black cloak engulfed his body.

“I-I’m so sorry,” I fervently apologized, trying to back away toward the door. “I’ll leave right now.”

“Why are you here?” his voice was quieter, but I could still hear the anger in it.

“I don’t know! My father is deathly ill, and I was praying for a sign, and I got lost and ended up here, and I’m so so sorry,” I rambled, trying to inch away.

He was silent for a moment before taking one massive step closer. I almost thought I could see the outline of his face inside the cloak, but it didn’t make sense.

“What if I told you I could cure him?”

“What?” The word came out as merely an exhale. “I’d do anything.”

“Stay here forever, and I swear to you that your father will be cured.”

Fear crept into my heart, and I closed my eyes.

But all I could see behind my eyelids was my sisters’ fear and Papa’s withering frame. “If you can really save him, I’ll do it.”

And this is how our story began.

Author's Note: Honestly this story was supposed to be different. I misremembered my idea and forgot to check my reading notes. The initial myth was the Italian version of Beauty and the Beast. I kept the two sisters she had in the original tale, but I gave Tiziana a younger sister as well who was just trying her best. On top of that, I strayed from the source material again by having Tiziana end up sort of seeking out the Beast rather than her dad being detained for stealing a rose.
I would have loved to write more of an actual love story between Tiziana and the stranger/Beast, but the word count meant it was not to be. If I had had more time, I would have rewritten it again with less initial family time, but life is a bit too crazy for that these days. 

All of the names were pulled from an Italian name list on nameberry.com

Bibliography: "Zelinda and the Monster" by Thomas Crane

Image Information: Personal photo taken by my mom in Switzerland.