Categories > Original > Historical
Short Story: Lost and Found
She enjoyed being outside in the evenings; the air was cooler, and the only sounds were that of water lapping against the buildings and the occasional splash of oars. No shouting, no babble of voices, just… peace.
Anna let the front door close gently behind her and she descended the steps, stopping just before they disappeared into the waters of the canal. Gathering her skirt so that it would stay dry, she sat, letting her feet rest on a submerged step. Jacobo, the family servant, kept the steps meticulously clean, so that there was never a hint of the green that tended to grow on the steps of every house.
The water was slightly cold, but she wriggled her toes and sighed and tried to look at her reflection in the water. Sunlight was fading but when she stopped moving and the ripples faded away, she could see it; long dark hair, large eyes set in a long face… if she imagined her curls cut shorter then she could almost convince herself she was looking at a reflection of him.
It made her feel the pain of loss both more acutely and less painfully. Depending on her mood, she could talk to him and imagine a reply, or talk and have only the sound of water for company. This time it was the former: Jacobo had accidentally let a crab run loose in the Ca’, and she knew exactly what he would have to say about its appearance in the grand hall of their family home…
The sound of an oar, ripples in the water that broke her reflection, and then a voice calling out, “Bona séra, sioréta!” Good evening, little lady!
She recognised the voice with surprise. “Antonio?”
“Sì.” Looking up, she saw that he had doffed his hat in a slight bow. Antonio was tall, very tan and muscular. Seeing him standing at the end of a gondola with an oar in one hand and a hat in the other, Anna understood why many of the ladies of the court used to chatter excitedly about him. The key word in that thought being the phrase ‘used to’.
“I thought –”
“Released, signorina, with my debts paid in full.” A troubled look came into his eyes, then.
“You have been very lucky,” Anna said as she stood up and rearranged her skirt.
“Yes,” he said softly. Then he brightened. “But come now, I didn’t come to remind you of suffering and disease! I have served my time at that accursed island; I have been lucky; I am here; I am healthy. That is all we need say about it.”
A sudden panic gripped her. Antonio did not know. Antonio did not know about her brother. She didn’t want to be the one who broke the news to him. She had yet to say, out loud, to anyone, that the one person closest to her heart, who had had his heart beating right next to hers before they were born, was gone. A victim on the very island Antonio called cursed, the very island on which Antonio had served his time and repaid his debts to the Republic.
Antonio reached a hand out to her and she took it without thinking, stepping into the gondola. She sat and stayed silent, not knowing if it was better to tell him now, or to wait until Antonio asked. The island on which he had served his time was small, but the number of people that were sent there each day was so high that the arrival of the son of a member of the aristocracy could have gone unnoticed.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t realise Antonio was silent too. It was only in a quiet, narrow canal that he stopped rowing and stepped lightly to where she sat, bending down to whisper, “I haven’t repaid my debts.”
Anna turned her face to him then. “What?”
“Earlier, when I said I had, it was so anyone overhearing wouldn’t be alarmed.”
Anna stared at him. “You escaped?”
“They left me there to die. There’s no one on the islands ‘looking after’ the sick. You get infected, they toss you over there, and the healthy ones stay just long enough to bury the dead. The plague is too infectious.” His voice was bitter. “All I did was make a bad bet.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said softly.
“Domenico had a last request,” he said, and her breath caught in her throat. Antonio did know about her twin brother after all. “I’m coming to you to fulfil it, if you’ll let me.”
Anna nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Domenico had been taken just a month ago, after it was obvious his fever and the swelling around his neck were not the symptoms of a normal illness. The authorities had wanted to bring her in, too, for being his twin, but her father had fought tooth and nail to keep her out of the quarantine island that all plague victims were brought to.
“She has no symptoms,” he’d roared. “You’ve taken my son and my wife, you’re not taking the only child I have left!”
The quarantine island. ‘For the segregation of plague victims, to avoid the spread of the deadly disease’, was the Republic’s decree. Theoretically, a citizen could leave the island once their symptoms had disappeared, but Anna had never heard of anyone leaving the island before. When Domenico had developed the symptoms and they’d taken him away, she’d known the only time she’d ever see him again was if she became infected as well.
And then came that terrible Tuesday. She’d known exactly when he’d left this world for the next. You didn’t spend your entire life with someone, you didn’t share the same womb and the same features without knowing when you were separated from them forever. When her brother had been taken away, she’d felt torn; when he’d left, she’d felt empty and incomplete.
Anna realised with a jolt that they were heading away from the main island. She looked at Antonio questioningly, but he just shook his head and rowed on. She wondered if anyone watching them would be alarmed, then she realised she didn't care. She thought she knew why Antonio had come to her, and nothing else mattered anymore.
They were heading to one of the smaller islands located not far from the island that Venice claimed as its centre. It was one of the uninhabited ones, too small to be of much use and covered in trees. Antonio expertly guided the gondola to a landing spot and jumped out to tie the prowed boat to a pole before offering his hand to Anna.
Antonio then led her through the trees, following a path that only he seemed to know about. It was in a small clearing that he stopped, stepping aside so Anna could see. In the centre of the clearing was a mound of freshly turned earth, and at its head was a marker stone.
Domenico.
Anna knelt by the marker and, with trembling hands, reached up to touch it. It was cool in the failing light. Antonio had somehow managed to etch on the stone the words, ‘Domenico Loredan’. She felt tears spring up in her eyes as she traced the letters. She thought that he’d been thrown into a mass grave, with nothing to tell him apart from the others. Nothing to indicate who he had been, or the people he had left behind.
Anna looked up at Antonio. “Thank you.”
He nodded, not speaking. Anna turned back to the gravestone, and they stayed until the moon rose, bathing them in its soft light.
She enjoyed being outside in the evenings; the air was cooler, and the only sounds were that of water lapping against the buildings and the occasional splash of oars. No shouting, no babble of voices, just… peace.
Anna let the front door close gently behind her and she descended the steps, stopping just before they disappeared into the waters of the canal. Gathering her skirt so that it would stay dry, she sat, letting her feet rest on a submerged step. Jacobo, the family servant, kept the steps meticulously clean, so that there was never a hint of the green that tended to grow on the steps of every house.
The water was slightly cold, but she wriggled her toes and sighed and tried to look at her reflection in the water. Sunlight was fading but when she stopped moving and the ripples faded away, she could see it; long dark hair, large eyes set in a long face… if she imagined her curls cut shorter then she could almost convince herself she was looking at a reflection of him.
It made her feel the pain of loss both more acutely and less painfully. Depending on her mood, she could talk to him and imagine a reply, or talk and have only the sound of water for company. This time it was the former: Jacobo had accidentally let a crab run loose in the Ca’, and she knew exactly what he would have to say about its appearance in the grand hall of their family home…
The sound of an oar, ripples in the water that broke her reflection, and then a voice calling out, “Bona séra, sioréta!” Good evening, little lady!
She recognised the voice with surprise. “Antonio?”
“Sì.” Looking up, she saw that he had doffed his hat in a slight bow. Antonio was tall, very tan and muscular. Seeing him standing at the end of a gondola with an oar in one hand and a hat in the other, Anna understood why many of the ladies of the court used to chatter excitedly about him. The key word in that thought being the phrase ‘used to’.
“I thought –”
“Released, signorina, with my debts paid in full.” A troubled look came into his eyes, then.
“You have been very lucky,” Anna said as she stood up and rearranged her skirt.
“Yes,” he said softly. Then he brightened. “But come now, I didn’t come to remind you of suffering and disease! I have served my time at that accursed island; I have been lucky; I am here; I am healthy. That is all we need say about it.”
A sudden panic gripped her. Antonio did not know. Antonio did not know about her brother. She didn’t want to be the one who broke the news to him. She had yet to say, out loud, to anyone, that the one person closest to her heart, who had had his heart beating right next to hers before they were born, was gone. A victim on the very island Antonio called cursed, the very island on which Antonio had served his time and repaid his debts to the Republic.
Antonio reached a hand out to her and she took it without thinking, stepping into the gondola. She sat and stayed silent, not knowing if it was better to tell him now, or to wait until Antonio asked. The island on which he had served his time was small, but the number of people that were sent there each day was so high that the arrival of the son of a member of the aristocracy could have gone unnoticed.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t realise Antonio was silent too. It was only in a quiet, narrow canal that he stopped rowing and stepped lightly to where she sat, bending down to whisper, “I haven’t repaid my debts.”
Anna turned her face to him then. “What?”
“Earlier, when I said I had, it was so anyone overhearing wouldn’t be alarmed.”
Anna stared at him. “You escaped?”
“They left me there to die. There’s no one on the islands ‘looking after’ the sick. You get infected, they toss you over there, and the healthy ones stay just long enough to bury the dead. The plague is too infectious.” His voice was bitter. “All I did was make a bad bet.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said softly.
“Domenico had a last request,” he said, and her breath caught in her throat. Antonio did know about her twin brother after all. “I’m coming to you to fulfil it, if you’ll let me.”
Anna nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Domenico had been taken just a month ago, after it was obvious his fever and the swelling around his neck were not the symptoms of a normal illness. The authorities had wanted to bring her in, too, for being his twin, but her father had fought tooth and nail to keep her out of the quarantine island that all plague victims were brought to.
“She has no symptoms,” he’d roared. “You’ve taken my son and my wife, you’re not taking the only child I have left!”
The quarantine island. ‘For the segregation of plague victims, to avoid the spread of the deadly disease’, was the Republic’s decree. Theoretically, a citizen could leave the island once their symptoms had disappeared, but Anna had never heard of anyone leaving the island before. When Domenico had developed the symptoms and they’d taken him away, she’d known the only time she’d ever see him again was if she became infected as well.
And then came that terrible Tuesday. She’d known exactly when he’d left this world for the next. You didn’t spend your entire life with someone, you didn’t share the same womb and the same features without knowing when you were separated from them forever. When her brother had been taken away, she’d felt torn; when he’d left, she’d felt empty and incomplete.
Anna realised with a jolt that they were heading away from the main island. She looked at Antonio questioningly, but he just shook his head and rowed on. She wondered if anyone watching them would be alarmed, then she realised she didn't care. She thought she knew why Antonio had come to her, and nothing else mattered anymore.
They were heading to one of the smaller islands located not far from the island that Venice claimed as its centre. It was one of the uninhabited ones, too small to be of much use and covered in trees. Antonio expertly guided the gondola to a landing spot and jumped out to tie the prowed boat to a pole before offering his hand to Anna.
Antonio then led her through the trees, following a path that only he seemed to know about. It was in a small clearing that he stopped, stepping aside so Anna could see. In the centre of the clearing was a mound of freshly turned earth, and at its head was a marker stone.
Domenico.
Anna knelt by the marker and, with trembling hands, reached up to touch it. It was cool in the failing light. Antonio had somehow managed to etch on the stone the words, ‘Domenico Loredan’. She felt tears spring up in her eyes as she traced the letters. She thought that he’d been thrown into a mass grave, with nothing to tell him apart from the others. Nothing to indicate who he had been, or the people he had left behind.
Anna looked up at Antonio. “Thank you.”
He nodded, not speaking. Anna turned back to the gravestone, and they stayed until the moon rose, bathing them in its soft light.
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