Fiorile AKA Wild Flower Page #4

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But it was his son Massimo,

who ever since his childhood

was really troubled by it.

They say that one time,

when he was only nine years old,

one day he had come here

to the graveyard on his bike.

Massimo!

Massimo!

Massimo! Massimo Benedetti!

Little Massimo!

Come and see!

Come! Come!

- Come!

- Where?

This way, come.

Over there,

where your family name is.

Something happened.

Something bad.

Cursed.

The cursed ones!

- Little Massimo!

- Little cursed one!

Little cursed one!

Don't you know, you half-wit,

that Mom and Dad have left?

You don't remember that?

You went for a bike ride again.

Where have you been?

You can't speak?

It's no use.

This time it's my fault.

I scared you.

Was it those brats again?

Let's go wash your hands.

Come on.

You don't have to listen to them.

The stories they tell are made up.

They are fairy tales.

The gold coins, Fiorile,

Grandma Elisa's madness,

the poisonous mushrooms,

nothing is true.

And even if it was,

you are what you are.

You are Massimo Benedetti.

And you are a good boy.

Actually, you are like Jean,

the French soldier.

Good and innocent.

That's where you come from,

from the good part of your blood.

And when you're grown-up,

I am sure you'll be just like him.

Handsome like him.

Brave.

And honest like him.

Understood?

Hey! Even if you lost your tongue,

you still have your ears.

Did you hear

what I told you or not?

Help me.

Help me, Jean.

I am here, Massimo.

Play.

UNIVERSITY OF FLORENCE

DEPARTMENT OF LITERATURE

AND PHILOSOPHY:

ACADEMIC YEAR 1943 - 44

The French Army

in the Tuscan countryside

during the years 1797-1799

Degree thesis by:

Massimo Benedetti

The meaning of the words

"freedom, equality, brotherhood,"

written on the French flags,

and here the sources agree,

was well-understood

by the "queue" part of the nobility,

that were worried about their lands.

A reaction different from those

of the peasant population,

that the Army would meet

around the countryside.

Reactions of astonishment,

of interest, but of wariness, too.

What do you mean

by "the 'queue' part of the nobility"?

I mean that it was not a large

and widespread phenomenon.

How is he doing?

Great.

You are crazy to show up here.

He told me that he forbade you.

I felt like seeing him.

And I am only staying for a second.

But don't tell him that I came here.

I have no time

to worry about Massimo.

Did you forget that I also have

my examination right after?

He is really good.

He is handsome.

The opposition to Napoleon's army

was just an isolated incident.

Massimo Benedetti.

Did you know that my grandfather

happened to be

one of the great electors

of an ancestor of yours?

I think that this ancestor

ended up a victim of misfortune.

I think he was called...

Alessandro Benedetti.

My grandmother's brother.

An interesting work.

Well-written, very well-documented.

But, if I may say so, a little...

How could I say this?

Partisan.

Yes, right. Partisan.

Why partisan?

It's a bit too pro-French.

Come on, Benedetti.

This French Army,

to our poor Tuscan peasants...

What did they bring them?

Just chattering, nice words?

Or...

Have you found

that any family got rich

while the Army was passing by?

We...

Speak.

Speak.

Please, Massimo, speak!

Relax, Benedetti.

Your work, in many ways,

is quite remarkable.

Why the fuss?

You are not feeling well?

No, I...

If I...

The alarm!

The session is adjourned!

Everyone rush to the shelters!

You too, Benedetti.

Come, Massimo!

There's a shelter here!

Come!

You must not cry for me!

Why did you come here?

I am not crying for you.

You are speaking again.

What do you mean,

"I am not crying for you"?

Whom are you crying for?

I will die of fear if you force me

to stay here under the bombs.

Where is this shelter?

Over there.

It's difficult to love

someone like me.

- Wait!

- What?

Many of us love you.

They told me to give you this book.

Is it for me?

They said it's okay.

That you are okay.

Thank you.

And do I have to read it soon,

this book?

Tomorrow.

If they had seen me

in the lecture hall,

they wouldn't trust me that much.

Do I really have to kill him?

He has no influence.

I'll say if he has.

Last week, in Sant'Angelo,

he turned in two Jewish families.

Plus, if this house and your name

give you so many troubles,

at least this time

it will be of some use, right?

That tattletale always takes

the same route.

Always at the same hour

and always alone.

You just ask him for a lift,

then you get in the car

and take out your revolver.

But you just have to take him

to the hills.

The others will take care of the rest.

He'll be put on trial.

I'd like to come with you,

but tomorrow I have to take

a message to town.

Actually, I have to leave now.

Come on, you can do it on your own.

That guy trusts you.

He'll never think that a Benedetti...

Are you listening to me?

No.

So what are you thinking about?

I was thinking...

...that I'd like to make love to you.

And sleep with you all night long.

Tonight.

He is Jean.

I told you about him.

The young French soldier

loved by Fiorile.

Jean is the good part of my blood.

Like Alfredina said.

When I was a kid,

he'd often come visit me.

He comforted me when I was sad

or when I was afraid.

Basically, nearly all the time.

- Now he doesn't show up anymore.

- Maybe he is mad at you.

No, maybe it is

because now there is you.

And I don't need him anymore.

What are you waiting for?

Why?

Don't you know

that it's been three months

since the last bus stopped here?

Yes, I know, I know.

My bike broke. I need a ride.

Give me a hand.

Give it to me.

- Hey, young boy!

- What?

Thank you.

Have a nice day.

"Chiara, my love, my Fiorile.

I haven't heard from you

for many days.

I don't even know

whether you are alive or dead.

I am alive.

Just for a short while, maybe.

I'm writing you like many years ago

Jean wrote his Fiorile.

If they were to decide to shoot me,

I will die for the same ideals

for which he came down here

from his Provence.

I am thinking about you.

Yet I am not able to think

about your courage.

But I think with tenderness

about your fear of the bombs.

About my own fear now

as someone is maybe getting ready

to make me die.

Jean was afraid, too.

And what happened that day

was unfair, too.

His sacrifice, Fiorile's grief,

and the gold.

The cursed gold you have been

mocking me about so many times.

I leave these few lines upon my body

if this is to be the last place

of my life.

The women and men

who are waiting around here

will have mercy.

A woman promised me.

They will have mercy on me, too,

even if they do not know me,

and even if I was not one of them.

But now I am one of them."

Try now.

What shall we do?

Shoot them.

Captain, the letter says

we must spare one.

You know it. There is a Benedetti,

an important family...

Which one is it? These guys

refused to give their names.

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