Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Bruno and Giacomo

“Hey, Giacomo, who were you playing with today?”

Was how Bruno always kicked things off.

Giacomo ignored him.

“Was it Daniele this time? Was it that blonde wimp?” Bruno knew it would work. It always did.

Giacomo kept quiet.

“Were you hugging him? Were you hugging too hard?” Bruno could see that his comments were hitting the mark. It always began once Giacomo’s nostrils flared.

“I know you were hugging. Did you squeeze him tight? Did you embrace? Did you do things you shouldn’t have? Did you? Should we tell Mama?” Bruno was not going to give up.

“Shut up, Bruno. Just shut up!”

Giacomo growled. His face was taught with anger and humiliation.

“Now come on. I know you love him. In fact we all do. But let’s tell Mama shall we? Let’s see what Mama thinks about your lover.”

Bruno was leaning right over the table, facing his older brother. Facing him down.

“ I hate you Bruno. I just hate you!” Giacomo whispered with a vengeance.

“I know, but you love Daniele, don’t you? Yes, I know you love Daniele. So fight me or I will go tell Mama. Fight me, you little queer. Come on, wimp, fight me, fight me…”

Giacomo had his cue. He had no choice. He knew Bruno would go tell her. He just knew it. And he was angry now. He was angry and confused. He would be married one day and run the estate. And then the mocking would end. But, for now, he had to do it Bruno’s way. He had no choice.

Bruno slapped Giacomo round the face. It was guaranteed to get things going. It did.

Giacomo chased Bruno to the servants’ entrance at the back of the house. That way Bruno knew he would not get interrupted by his parents. And today, he was bruising for a big fight. Giacomo was eighteen and about to finish school. They were already talking about Giacomo sharing the workload with his father. They’d even managed to get him out of the military so that he could start earlier. Their connections had swiftly arranged things. It was Italy after all. Giacomo was soon to commence the long, sure path to taking over the estate. It was the tradition. There was nothing any of them could do about it. Tradition was everything. How Bruno hated it. And he hated Giacomo with all of his life. So, today would be a serious licking.

As always, Giacomo ran at Bruno. Bruno easily side stepped him, glancing him a blow to the side of his head as he went past, making sure to pop his glasses off his face. Giacomo, blinded without his glasses, nearly tripped. But he didn’t. Giacomo ran at Bruno again, this time screaming. Screams full of hatred. Hatred for this despicable brother that bullied him like his father bullied their mother. Giacomo hated them both. So Giacomo screamed as he charged and he charged and he charged. And witheach charge Bruno hit him harder and harder. It was pure masochism, plain and simple. But, Giacomo was so emasculated that these beatings seemed necessary, part of the order of things, for now. But it would change. It would take time. And he would have to keep fighting for what was right and for what was his.

“Aaargh!” Screamed Giacomo as he threw his fist at Bruno.

Bruno confidently brushed the blow aside. Enough playing, he told himself. Time to get serious. So he did. First, he kicked Giacomo in the stomach, hard. As Giacomo’s head fell forward in response, he punched him. Bruno punched his brother so hard that his head flicked back like a broken doll. Bruno was trained to do this. After all, he was Tuscany’s junior boxing champion. Bruno got into the professional boxer’s stance, one foot in front of the other and one fist in front of the other. Both held high. Then he started punching, one punch after the other, with a steady rhythim. Not too hard to knock Giacomo out. Not yet, but just hard enough to start the bleeding. He loved watching him bleed. He loved it as if he was a cat playing with a baby rabbit. Breaking its body and soul bit by bit. Just for fun. Bit by bit, until the rabbit crawled away squealing, only able to crawl on its stomach, dragging its broken limbs behind it. Blood everywhere.

Bruno just kept hitting Giacomo. Each punch landed exactly where he wanted it to. As blood seeped from his brother’s face, Bruno delighted at the effects of his work. Then he saw Giacomo begin to tire. His legs buckled just a little and his shoulders sagged. His movements slowed and his soul sank. They both knew it would end soon. Giacomo resigned himself in self loathing and utter exhaustion.

Bruno seized the moment and threw his most powerful right hook. Giacomo’s head snapped back, unnaturally. Blood flew high into the air. Then Giacomo slowly sank down, down to his knees. Bruno lunged forward before his brother fell and took his chin in his hand to hold his head up. Holding his older brother’s head up high he smacked him down. Down into the mud. As Giacomo lay there motionless, his brother kicked him hard in the stomach and then slowly and deliberately stepped over his pathetic body.

Virgilio Grimaldi watched from a distance. As Bruno disappeared he walked over to his eldest son. He was shocked at how easily his heir was felled. He hated it. He needed him to be strong. He was old enough now. He needed to toughen him up.

“Get up Giacomo.” Virgilio stood over his trembling son.

Giacomo stumbled to his knees. He tried to stop the tears, but he couldn’t. So he looked up at his father with tears and blood and mud all mixed into his face.

“Giacomo, get up and get up now! Get up like a man.” Virgilio growled at Giacomo.

“I am!” Giacomo whined.

“You get up nothing like a man. You should be ashamed of yourself. You should be ashamed!”

“Oh, I am. I am, every day of my life. You can be certain of that.” Giacomo whispered in defiance.

“You had better shape up if you are to run this estate. And you had better shape up fast.”

“Let me guess. Or, you will give it to Bruno.”

Virgilio said nothing.

“Well you cannot give it to Bruno. It is mine, whether you like it or not. And I’m sure you don’t like it. But, it’s mine you hear. All mine!” Giacomo spat as his father walked away from him.

Bruno returned from his stint in the navy in his early twenties with a tan and a chip on his shoulder. He returned to Girotondo knowing that his brother was now managing the estate alongside his father and knowing that his own short career in the navy had been anything but remarkable. For there it mattered little that he was a Grimaldi. He was just another guy and not a very gifted one at that. He even failed at his boxing career. The other champions were much bigger and more powerful. They were trained on the tough streets of Naples a far, far cry from the genteel world of Girotondo.

And as Bruno returned to Girotondo weakened, he found a brother that was somehow stronger. Much stronger. Without Bruno, Giacomo had grown. His confidence showed in everything he did, and his ideas were already visibly improving the place. The vines produced better wine, the olives were somehow bigger and juicier and the crops more profitable. Giacomo even seemed closer to their father. Bruno noticed all of this and his chip got larger and larger.

And a few days after he had returned, when they were having breakfast, and Giacomo was out in the fields early, Virgilio told Bruno. It just came out.

“Your brother seems to have fallen for a girl. You know, it’s that Liguria girl. She’s very beautiful.”

Then Bruno knew what to do. Suddenly it was clear to him. He smiled at his father.

copyright ©Philip L Letts 2007