Mezzo,
who was keener in these matters, pulled Basso aside and said
that he had noticed Orsino’s recent attentions to their
cousin, Larosa, who now lived with their grandmother. Larosa,
once only a stringy twig of a girl with a wild crown of red
hair, had, over the span of one season, grown from a seedling
to a wild flower. According to Mezzo, Larosa’s distracting
countenance had not been overlooked by Orsino, and if he were
reminded of this, surely he would take more easily to his task.
Basso let Mezzo advance his plan. Mezzo proposed to Orsino that
rather than cut wood for Grandmother while Larosa helped, perhaps
he could stay at home and roast peppers with their mother.
“No”, Orsino said,
and he took a moment before claiming : “Peppers make my
hands itch, which is far worse than the calluses from chopping
wood. I will go to Grandmother’s.”
Mezzo then said that he and Basso
would follow later and help Orsino with the work. He then bid
Orsino luck saying, “In boca al lupo.” Orsino replied
in kind, “Crepi il lupo,” and headed off towards his
grandmother’s, but not before scooping up his fishing pole
and bait pail from the back step. |
After
all, if one is to work up a hunger cutting wood then there should
at least be a good meal of fish to enjoy afterwards. Besides,
didn’t Larosa make the finest herbed fish he had ever eaten
and such a talent should not be wasted. Though she treated him
no differently than his brothers, he was drawn to her. Her collarbones
were strangely appealing to him.
As he made his way, Orsino pondered
that if he first cut the wood, he would not have enough light
to go fishing later. As cutting wood required little light,
it made far more sense to go fishing first. This infinitesimally
small seed of logic was all that he required. He would take
a shortcut through the woods that would bring him closer to
a rumoured pond that he never been able to find. He would simply
follow the stream to its inevitable conclusion.
Venturing into the forest, Orsino
noticed how the trees closed in around him. The further he went,
the denser the woods became. Where before he had walked along
the embankment with ease, he now had to crouch and twist past
old, low reaching branches. At one bend in the stream, he looked
behind and could see no further back than he could ahead. It
was as if the brush on either side of the water had woven together.
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