Against A Wall

Summer 2009

Against A Wall


In the threaded mist of the estates miniature forest, Piero Brexiano continued to rid weeds from the base of giant palm trees. He had begun work at seven that morning. It was now close to eleven AM yet he still felt strong and fresh. He didn’t need a big breakfast, he told himself. Coffee and a slice of bread were fine. Looking at his fingers, with moist dirt under his nails and digits, Piero smiled. For five years he had been away from Italy and although he missed his homeland and his father, he didn’t think he had the right to be too melancholy. Six months back his wife and three children finally arrived in San Lorenzo, California. He no longer needed to send money back to the Veneto, back to the farm, back to the family.
Mr. Fredericks, the estate’s owner, allowed the Brexianos to live on the grounds while Piero worked as groundskeeper and his wife, Floria, provided household services. Their two younger children, Chiara and Dante, went to school but their oldest at sixteen, Penna, helped Floria in whatever way she could.
Piero tossed the green weeds into the cement pasted wheelbarrow as he rose to fetch lunch. It had been over a week since he had spoken to Fredericks about the food rationing. Believing that the Brexiano’s were eating too much, Fredericks was cutting back their weekly amount. This became a sore spot between Floria and Fredericks, with Piero trying to see both sides of the situation. As the head of his family, Piero realized how comfortable they had it on the estate. His family was allowed to live in the cottage and three of them worked on the property. Besides being paid they were also provided with food. Piero didn’t want to lose the job over one argument.
But despite Piero’s hope that matters would settle down, by the next week Floria came home with less food than the previous. Without saying anything to her husband she laid the evening dinner on the table in front of her family. Piero stared at the food; an eighth of a loaf of bread, one bowl of pasta and another bowl of salad. In silence Floria served her children first while Piero watched them eagerly slurp up their meals. By the time she got to Piero he held back her hand after she served him two scoops. With a look of inquisitiveness Floria studied her husband’s face in the dim light of the sparse and tiny kitchen. His eyes were focused on his children as he asked about their day. Following suit with her husband, Floria gave herself two scoops. As his wife chewed the pasta, Piero looked away unable to watch her because he was aware. He knew that she was right. There wasn’t enough food. Piero also couldn’t watch Floria because he knew she was hungry. He didn’t ask her to take two scoops but she would always do just the same as Piero. Not because she felt like everything had to be evenly dispersed between the two. It was because she believed that everything between her and her husband was even. They were two in one. Piero let his children finish the rest of the food that night but admitted to himself that something would have to be done.

Last night’s meal was on Piero’s mind as he made his way up to the estate’s patio. Ahead of him, lying on the lawn, were Floria and Penna waiting for Piero to join them for lunch. As Piero sat down to eat he could see that bread was missing from the meal. Unraveling a white piece of cloth, Floria spread a few cold cuts and breadsticks out on a tablecloth beside some grapes.

“No pan?”
“No. Lu ga dito che questo xe pan.”

Floria grabbed a few breadsticks indicating that they were to be their new bread. Piero stared at his wife. Suddenly he began to laugh. She just looked at Piero and shook her head. Then she laughed. Penna’s green eyes shone and she was grateful to see her parents giggling. Although Piero kept chuckling, within he felt backed up against a wall; a wall that was fixed with tiny sharp notes constantly reminding him of his responsibility. He didn’t have too many options but he was aware that his family couldn’t live in the same fashion. Piero watched his daughter and wife talk as he thought about his plans.
In the afternoon Piero was planting a fresh tree on a sparse area of vegetation. Mr. Fredericks came from behind a corner of the house and watched Piero as he packed dirt around the tree. Piero caught Fredericks watching him out of the corner of his eye. Getting up from the ground and wiping the dirt from his khaki pants, Piero turned to Fredericks.

“Wadda you think, Mr. Ferderick?”

The older man didn’t respond at first but walked about the tree, scrutinizing it closely.

“It looks very nice Pietro. I think this is a good spot because it will get plenty of sun.”

While Piero listened he couldn’t help but think about his family’s need for food. When Mr. Fredericks halted in his speech Piero spoke.

“Mr. Ferderick I’d lika talka to you when I’m done wurkin today about da food.”

Frederick’s countenance quickly changed from an even look of study to a deep frown.

“Pietro, as I told you last week, your family is eating too much food. The amount I have been giving you is adequate for a family of your size.”

Pietro didn’t know what “adequate” meant but he had a pretty good idea. He looked at Frederick’s with concern, asking the rich man with his eyes if he really needed the food as much as his family. It wasn’t Piero’s style to say more than was necessary.

“Okay. We’ra gonna have to leave den, Mr. Federicks.”
“Excuse me. You cannot leave. You are under a contract.”

Piero briefly stared at the older man and then walked away. Feeling slighted, Fredericks took more offense to Piero’s silence than his asking for food. Yet the rich man said nothing as he watched the immigrant place the shovel back inside the tool shed. Fredericks thought Piero was making empty threats. He believed that the Brexiano’s had nowhere to go and to an extent he was right; Piero had no work lined up yet they did have some family they could live with momentarily.
While making his usual evening walk around the garden that dusk, Mr. Fredericks saw Floria placing a suitcase into her husbands beat up old Chevrolet. Fredericks hid behind a giant limestone fountain while he spied on the family. It didn’t take long for Fredericks to realize that the Brexiano’s were leaving. Rage and feelings of betrayal swelled within him as he thought about the family’s departure.

“He signed a contract, dammit! These Wops can’t just do whatever they want!”

Coming out from his hiding place Frederick’s approached Floria as she was putting some cooking pans in the back of the truck.

“Put those down! Those are not yours! What do you people think you’re doing?”

Dante watched as Fredericks approached his mother in a threatening manner, making long strides and shaking his arms. Feeling scared the little boy ran back inside the small cottage towards his father who already heard Fredericks. Moving past his children, who watched their father as a farmer watches a rainstorm pound a drought ridden land, Piero stepped outside the cottage and walked towards Fredericks.

“Iz dere a problem Mr. Ferdericks?”
“Yes, there most certainly is a problem, Pietro. First off you’re wife is stealing my cooking property. And why are you putting suitcases…”
“Dose pans are ourz Mr. Ferdericks. We broughta dem with us. We lefta youra dings inside da house.”

Piero had hoped to have everything packed and ready to go before confronting Fredericks with the house key. He nervously adjusted the fedora on top of his head while he watched Fredericks walk towards the truck. Fredericks saw that the pans were not his own, causing him further frustration. He turned back towards Piero.

“Pietro, you signed a contract stating that your family would work here for at least one year. You have only fulfilled six months of the contract.”
“Yeah, dis iz true ma you don’ta give us enough food. Dat was also in da contrac, dat we wuld be fed. Mya familee iz ungry. I tolda you ma you said we had enough…”
“Exactly. You’re family just eats too much. You have two small children and you feed them as if they are adults. It is ridiculous. The contract stated three children and two adults, not five adults.”

Fredericks was speaking so fast and irritably that it was difficult for Pietro to understand everything he was saying. But through Fredericks’ facial expressions and tone of voice as well as Piero’s limited but decent command of English, the immigrant was able to understand the core of the rich man’s argument. When it came to the contract, Fredericks had said Penna, at sixteen years old, would be fed as an adult. This was another one of his adjustments. Floria hustled her children back inside the cottage as all three huddled together around the door frame watching their father.

“Pietro you have to stay another six months! After that you can leave if you want although you’re not going to find anyone who will treat you better! This I can guarantee!”

Piero felt ashamed. He saw himself as the head of the family and although Frederick’s choice to withhold food from the Brexianos was the older mans, Piero was the one who made the initial decision to trust Fredericks. Piero’s chest was getting warm and Fredericks’ quick and hustling usage of English was confusing him. As the rich man yelled again that the Brexianos had to stay, Piero went back inside to grab more items. Floria glanced at her husband with a worried look. Although the Brexiano’s were legal immigrants, Floria was intimidated by any type of confrontation when it came to Americans. Fear of the police coming and taking her children entered her thoughts.

“Piero, maybe we should stay! He can call the police! Then we could really be in trouble!”
“Too late now, Floria. He is not keeping his side of the deal. We are leaving.”

Floria thought about Piero’s words in silence, realizing that he was right. Fredericks came to the doorway and listened attentively as Floria spoke to her husband in their dialect. Piero’s calm manner alerted Fredericks to the idea that the immigrant was beginning to handle his emotions. As the family came walking past Fredericks, with more of their personal possessions, the older man blocked their way with his body.

“Pietro, you are not listening! You cannot leave!”

With this Piero slipped past his wife and put a suitcase down beside Fredericks. Piero shot his arm out and grabbed Fredericks by the neck, pinning him against the opened front door.

“No food, Mr. Fredericks! We go!”

The two men stared into each other’s eyes. Fredericks struggled to maintain eye contact with Piero but he glanced down after a few seconds. Piero was trembling with anger. His arm kept twitching until he suddenly let Fredericks go and grabbed the suitcase. He looked to his family who huddled around Floria.

“Andiamo adesso!”

Fredericks slunk to the ground. He clutched his neck as small little choking sounds erupted from his throat. Dante stared at the man as he walked by, holding Chiara’s hand. The old man glanced at the boy in humiliation. Not possessing much, the Brexiano’s were all packed and ready to go in less than five minutes. Piero pulled out of the driveway, staring back at Frederick’s who was still kneeling on the ground disillusioned and mortified. As Piero drove out of the affluent area of San Lorenzo he stole a glimpse over at Floria. She watched Piero with a grin on her face. Piero slid his hand over to his wife’s, meeting Floria’s directly in the middle of the front seat.
The End