The metal box that Belinda had found in Elia's closet was nothing more than a distant memory that came from Elia's maternal grandparents. Anna had given it to her son to protect him and bring him luck. It had not been an action carried out in secret, without Belinda's knowledge, but rather a gesture of maternal love toward her son.
Elia had come to know Samuele over the years, considering him family, more a brother than a friend, and the godfather of little Azzurra. The girl was crazy about him: as soon as she saw him arrive, she would run toward him with open arms and jump into his embrace. Azzurra called him Uncle Lele, and he, for his part, adored the little one and spoiled her, showering her with gifts. Sometimes dolls, another time designer clothes, and other times accessories like backpacks for nursery school—the latter being a mere accessory, completely useless according to Belinda. But Samuele followed current trends and dressed his goddaughter in designer wear from head to toe. "Don't spoil her," Elia would say, and he would reply: "A me figghiozza ci cattu tutti cosi" (I buy everything for my goddaughter), "your job is to educate, mine is to spoil."
That day, Samuele and Elia were going out together and taking Azzurra to the playground. Belinda would join them later, but first she had an appointment with herself, with magic, and with the bare earth. The black earth, the one where all living things walk, the same one that had covered her mother's grave.
To start from a beginning and make peace with the black earth, the bastard earth, she decided to visit her mother's body, buried in the family crypt at the cemetery. The crypt was the last standing bastion of their family, which had once been wealthy and important.
Her town's cemetery was located on a hill; the dead enjoyed a spectacular view. The sea was their neighbor, visible all the way to the horizon, and in the morning with the sun shining, Reggio Calabria seemed very close. The contrast between the sadness that a macabre place like the cemetery instilled and the sun, the sea, and that view, seemed like a mockery of death. The sight seemed to console the soul, the sea calm and blue and shining like the sky.
Belinda looked at it, parked her car on the thick gravel deposited there on purpose, opened the trunk, and took out a large plant of white daisies. She headed toward the family chapel, and on that short journey, she relived the moments when she bid farewell to the closed coffin with her mother's body inside. The pain never went away, even though many years had passed. Time doesn't heal certain wounds; it only creates voids. Belinda's mother had been gone for sixteen years now, and the absence cannot be filled; it can only grow larger.
In life's perverse game, the longer she stayed on earth, the further she was from her mother. So Belinda felt the need to make peace with that earth that continually separated her from Caterina, with every rotation, every solar year.
She reached the crypt; the door was always left open so that anyone could enter at any time. She cleaned the floor of dust and the earth and worms that had crawled in, and dusted the tombs of all her ancestors buried together in the same place. One had to lose to understand what was lost. Belinda believed that only those who had already been through it could truly understand. Belinda's family had been decimated by morte buttana (bastard death), and she could not find peace about it. For this reason, it was essential to make peace with the earth.
After cleaning the crypt, she placed the vase of white daisies at the foot of Caterina's tomb, passed a hand over her photograph and over her cheek, which was by then flooded with stupid tears, useless salt water that did nothing to fill the sea. She spoke to her mother: "Oh Bidditta oh mammitta..." (Oh dear one, oh my little mother...). She spoke simple words before taking her leave and drying her face once more:
"May the earth be light upon you, may the earth be your companion, blanket, and pillow, that it may not draw you away from your path. Blessed earth, for you are within it, you who loved so very much."
As she turned to leave, a white feather settled at her feet, and she heard a distant voice, perhaps in her head, perhaps in her heart: "A mammitta vivi ti vaddu io" (My dear daughter, live, I will watch over you). Belinda had brought a small bag with her, one that fit in the palm of her hand, a bag of sand from the seashore. She left it for her mother, partially closed the crypt door, and walked away, promising herself to return more often, even if it was hard, because it always hurt too much. She walked the path back to the car with a lighter heart, got behind the wheel, and drove to meet her love Elia, her wonderful legacy Azzurra, and her lifelong friend Samuele. Perhaps magic had a meaning, this time.