Crossroad to the Heart
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Emily was thirty- eight years old and Luigi seventy-nine. The age difference did not bother her. Her objective was another.
Prior to the pandemic of 2019, Emily tried her luck in a restaurant business with a young man. When the virus appeared, the two lost their business and relation.
Emily searched for a job in a company whose owner operated a young girls prostitution ring. Emily attended the interview, but it was late when she realized of the nature of the business. The boss locked her up in a bedroom ready to dispatch her to the Virgin Island.
Due to a breaking in the piping system. Luigi joined his brother-in-law, a master plumber to the premises. Luigi heard cries and unlocked the prison door. He hid Emily in a big box and brought it to safety. The two never met and she vowed to meet some day her ‘savior.’
Luigi and Emily began to socialize on online unaware of their past meeting. The conversation soon assumed romantic tones and Emily promised to visit him in Syracuse. That event never materialized.
Antonio Casale
Antonio Casale was born in Cervinara,Naples. He studied in Florence, Madrid, Mexico and Syracuse University where he taught for 25 years. He is the author of seven novels in three different languages:English, Spanish and Italian. (If there is space) Also, he ran also a radio show for fifteen years and on TV he played the role of an interviewer.
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Crossroad to the Heart - Antonio Casale
Copyright © 2021 by Antonio Casale.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations,
and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
Rev. date: 03/19/2021
Xlibris
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CONTENTS
Chapter I Death, Dogs, Existentialism
Chapter II The Wolf
Chapter III Covid 19
Chapter IV Mr. X
Chapter V Emily’s Money Obsession
Chapter VI The Christmas Tree
Chapter VII Pandemic and Confused Minds
Chapter VIII More Doubts
Chapter IX The Bitter Surprise
Chapter X Dallas
Chapter XI The Pizza
Chapter XII Last Act
I wish to
dedicate this book to my cousins Pasquale and Maria with whom I always shared a fraternal love.
DEDICO QUESTO LIBRO
AI CUGINI PASQUALE E MARIA CASALE
CON CUI HO CONDIVISO UNA VITA
DI AFFETTO ED AMORE FRATERNO
And a big hug to my son Anthony for his painstaking and laborious work in editing and providing crucial suggestions for the harmony of the plot.
Hi, the story that you are about to read was inspired, in great part, by some actual events in my life. With that being said, Crossroad to the Heart is a novel. My imagination intervened whenever I saw empty spaces to be filled. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Enjoy the reading.
CHAPTER I
Death, Dogs, Existentialism
It all began during the pandemic of 2020. People were forced to stay home as much as possible not to incur many in-state sanctions or to be victim of the virus. At home, one of the few alternatives to escape the long-term isolation many faced was to connect to the world through the internet.
It was one of those still warm days of September. The first rays of sun were beginning to emerge from the horizon. Groups of big puffy cumulus clouds were slowly drifting low across the sky. The air was almost still. Perhaps, it was a premonition of a lingering humid day. The streets were noisy, as usual, due to the tumultuous traffic.
At home, Emily got up unusually late. With her eyes still half closed, she opened her bedroom window to gauge the weather. The air felt a bit heavy it seemed. She walked unsteadily toward the living room. Her legs were shaky. Fortunately, there was a chair close to her. With her right arm outstretched, she grabbed the top part of it and paused for a few moments to take a deep breath. The reflection of the sunlight, through the window, dazzled her. She covered her eyes with left hand and stood there waiting for her mind to clear up.
Her grandmother, a wise and affectious lady, was in the kitchen giving the last touch to breakfast. Alerted by the brusque movement of the chair, she turned around and observed the scene with curiosity and attention. Good morning, my star.
Not receiving any answer, she queried with apprehension, My dear, what is it? Don’t you feel well?
"
I am not at my best this morning, grandma.
Are you feverish? Do you have a headache? Do you feel like vomiting?
Nothing of that sort, grandma. It is one of those days.
I see…..I hope you did not catch the virus. The whole town is sick. The pandemic is destroying the fiber of our society.
Emily made a gesture of denial with her hand, The virus doesn’t like me,
she fumbled.
You know, you may be asymptomatic,
insisted the old lady. The lack of response made her go back to her habitual domestic chores with apparent apprehension. Suddenly, she looked toward her granddaughter again, and added, I have received a gift from nature. I have a special immunity, thanks to God. Look at the TV. This country has already lost almost five hundred thousand people. This is more than the number of soldiers who died in World War II. What bothers me is the indifferent attitude of many people who still get together without masks in streets and shops and go around ignoring the most elementary notions of hygiene. Indeed, even more tragic, as a reality, is that the asymptomatic people stroll around without detection.
Not yet completely satisfied to have indulged in a soliloquy, she made one last comment, Are you sure it is not a love matter?
I don’t have time for it, grandma. Last night I had nightmares, so there it’s not a symptom of the pandemic.
The dialog reached an end right there. Emily made a few more steps forward and reached her computer.
Erroneously, she ended up on the Italian Facebook. Her attention casually fell on a headline which appeared to be immediately interesting, Women’s violence widespread. Another woman battered by her husband.
She put on her glasses and lazily began to read the comments made by the user: Ignorance, bad habits, masculinity inculcated in the genes of the male gender since Stone Age, uncultivated primitive cultures and mystified with purported ties to the divine, laws which do not obey to any modern logic (not to mention the Aristotelian or Platonic), the neglect of single groups or of the majority of a community, basically, are at the roots of this socio-political posture in a history to be redefined and reformed.
A woman, any woman is the angel of a family. It is a fresh breeze in the asphyxiating summer heat, a ray of sun in the bitter winter cold. Women are the symbol of grace, gentility, and psychological strength that sweeten men’s hearts. They make them docile and move humanity closer to God."
Emily laid her head between both hands and got absorbed in a deep and long meditation. When she decided to return to reality, her headache had disappeared. Her hands fell slowly on the keyboard. This man deserves an answer,
she murmured.
The following day, the article’s author read Emily’s brief note and replied to her, Thank you, Emily, for sharing and supporting my opinions.
Emily responded with an incomplete sentence, but that was enough to spark communication between them.
Emily was of medium stature with dense, light brown hair that descended straight to the top of her shoulders. Her blue eyes looked like two gems. They possessed such a magnetic inner force that inevitably subjugated whoever fell under their spell. Men, especially, were easily fascinated and attracted. Her smile was almost inscrutable. Many friends compared it to Mona Lisa’s enigmatic smile. Besides that, mother nature did something else for her too. It provided her with an extraordinary smile revealing perfectly aligned teeth as white as snow. Her dimples accentuated her personal charm. Her body, as a whole, appeared sinuous and elastic, almost athletic. There was not a gram of extra fat on it. Often, she would stand before a huge mirror in the dining room and pride herself of her statuary form. Every morning, she spent about an hour exercising inside her bedroom or in the open air when the weather was comfortable. In the garage, a heavy exercise bike collected dust in winter months, but in summer, it was very much in operation.
Emily was a heavy spender. She saved some money from helping older folks. Her activity consisted mainly in shopping for them or in providing home assistance. In her leisure time, she would frequently peruse her favorite clothing stores and spent all her savings. She did not wear high styled clothes because she could not afford them, but she surely liked them.
Usually, her grandmother spent most of the time in the kitchen preparing the daily meals. Often, Emily joined her in those activities for a double reason. She liked being in her company and learn from her the culinary art. By the age of twenty, she had acquired such a considerable amount of experience that propelled her to gain public recognition from local cooking competitions her grandmother prodded her to enter.
Emily adored pizza and whenever she made it or bought it, she was unconcerned about her figure. She strived to stay fit, but she was not obsessed by it. She knew when to have good time at the table.
Academically, Emily had been always in the top ten each year in high school. She ultimately graduated as salutatorian of her class.
In college, she was on the dean’s list for four years and graduated in accounting. Later, she went on for her master’s degree. All her classmates agreed that she was very bright. Some of them even thought that she possessed a sixth sense due to her intuitive gift.
Emily had two dogs, Cornelius and Cassia, who were particularly affectionate to her father. In fact, they enjoyed a special relationship with him. Every morning, he would take them out and feed them. They reciprocated his affection by standing on the porch waiting for him each day until he departed for work. In the afternoon, they would stand outside of the main door to welcome him back barking and wagging their tails. During his spare time, he took them jogging in the neighboring woods. As soon as they got outdoors, they always got so excited that it was hard for him to hold them back. He released their leashes only in the woods where normally no one would be around. It was a special time for them to run free. The affectionate bond with their owner grew more intense each year to the point that these special pets slept next to his bed. Sometimes, Cornelius or Cassia woke him in the middle of the night or early morning when most people still enjoy sleeping. He got up and took them out for their duties, but never complained and always found the time to caress them.
Emily disapproved of her father’s decision to keep the dogs in his bedroom. The lingering tell-tale scent of the dogs was disturbing to her and provided additional work to clean up the room. With the pandemic around, the fear for debilitating the immune system and, therefore, making them more susceptible to Covid 19 prevailed over her father’s affection. The dogs were soon separated and brought down in the cellar to sleep in their own dog beds.
One dark day in November the dogs were waiting for him, as usual, but he never arrived. After waiting a while, they started to get nervous and began to bark incessantly. Emily thought that kind of bark wasn’t normal for them. Emily was in the kitchen when the telephone rang. Miss, this is the police department. We are sorry to inform you that your dad was involved in a car accident. I am sorry.
Oh, no!
cried out Emily. Where is he? Where?
Her sisters and brother immediately got alarmed by the dramatic tone of voice and rushed over. Their faces were reflections of desperation.
Miss, I am sorry, he is no longer with us,
responded the voice of the policeman on the other side of the telephone. Unfortunately, it was a tragic accident. A couple men from my department will soon arrive at your house. They will give you additional information and details and will be available for any questions, support, and help.
Emily dropped the telephone on the floor and started to scream and cry. By her reaction the siblings knew what this meant.
In the evening, still devastated by the tragic event, Emily was a mask of desolation and pain. She exhaustedly collapsed on the sofa and fell asleep. When she woke up, the first thing she noticed was that Cornelius and Cassia were both at her side facing her. It was obvious from their drooping heads and ears that that they shared her sadness. To her it appeared they were looking for answers from her. They both started to howl. It was the kind of low moaning howl that most dog owners understand. This is an emotional pain. This is sadness.
Emily was a mask of pain, but the dogs’ compassionate look moved her to hug and kiss them. Her tears blurred her vision. She whispered in their ears, Papa is no longer here,
and broke down again. They reciprocated with their own higher pitched howls. This tore her heart to pieces. As Emily stared at the dogs they both remained in a dismal pose for about a minute. Emily was startled. She leaned over them and said softly, Did you understand me? Could you give me a sign that you understand?
The dogs began to groan nervously as if they were following a funeral procession. Emily was unable to hold back her emotions and covered her eyes with a handkerchief.
The cemetery where Emily’s father was buried was about a mile away from her residence. Every day, the dogs, on their own volition, walked to the cemetery sniffing the tombs until they rested on one of them. They stood there a few minutes like sentinels and returned home alongside the buildings’ walls.
The dogs, guided by a mysterious instinct, visited the cemetery, unnoticed, for about a month until a local cameraman spotted them on the tomb and brought them to the attention of TV viewers. The sight of her dogs in the cemetery on her father’s tomb made Emily’s eyes tear up each time. The news stirred the imagination and the interest of many viewers who admired the dogs’ loyalty and began a daily procession to visit them and bring them toys and food.
Dear readers, all of us, at one point or another in our lives, have seen a circus, either in person or on television. During that time, we have admired many animals’ intelligence. Elephants and monkeys, for instance, can do simple mathematical calculations. Dogs commonly can respond to a variety of owner’s commands, and so on. Scholars are working on decodifying their behavior. There is an incontrovertible evidence. From a human perspective, most animals commonly show a high degree of intelligence. Some dog owners claim that animals are equipped by nature with a high degree of telepathy.
Following the dogs’ moving episode, Emily decided to build benches around the house to allow older folks to sit and rest for a while. The TV report increased the dogs’ popularity and stirred peoples’ imagination. Soon the dogs became so popular that folks from every walk of life began to send in gifts for them.
On the living room table there was a framed photo of Emily’s father. Every day around five o’clock the dogs approached the picture