There's Always One

My mother leads us into the house. After one last glance back toward Cassie and Colly, who were holding their own just fine among my kin, I guide Rosa through the narrow door then follow close behind. My body falling into age old patterns before my mind could even acknowledge I hunch down and squeeze my shoulder inward to fit through the door then, on instinct, keep my head tucked low so as not to hit the first ceiling beam just inside the threshold.

The moment the door slams behind me and my eyes adjust to the dim I stop as a flash flood of memories hits me head on. The familiar clay pots and bowls on the shelves above our tiny oven that had delivered the common but honest fare that had made be grow to the size I was, the repaired crack in the shelves that I had put there ten years prior, the wooden spoons hanging from the walls that elicited memories of familial warmth from remembering Mom stirring countless stews and sauces with them and memories of childhood fear as I recalled how she reached for them for punishment after I’d done something wrong, the shallow hollow in the packed earth floor between the oven and counter worn smooth by where her feet always stood, literally everywhere I looked I saw and smelled and felt my childhood and my mother’s constant presence.

Slowly I take in this place that was at once familiar and surreal, a place once the center of my whole world but now a fragment from another time. After my uncle’s pleasure palace, which through hard work we’d transformed into a proper villa, this simple hut felt so very small. Cozy yet claustrophobic.

My eyes settle at last to the small shrine containing our household guardian god. I approach the crude bronze figure of an older man carrying sickle and whisper a little prayer then say. “Been awhile since I had a Lar to watch over me.”

Mom turns, glances to Rosa, then focuses squarely on me. “Who watched over your uncle’s house?”

I shrug. “Mercury? Maybe Bacchus? Wild Silvanus? Venus? Even old Neptune left a ill presence there. The place was cursed.”

“Cursed!?”

“A priest told me first day we were there. We kept meaning to set up a shrine but we were so busy. Oh! That reminds me.” I pull off my pack and set it on the floor. Opening it I begin to rummage around, as I do Rosa steps in behind me to lay a hand on my shoulder.

“No wonder it didn’t work out.” Mom says. “With no guardian watching out for you…you were bound to stray.”

“I have been watching out for him, Madam. Quin was never alone.”

“You?” Mom scoffs. “You can’t see your own hand in front of your face!”

“Mom!”

Rosa rubs my shoulder to calm me. “Please accept my apologies, Ma’am. We got off on a bad foot.” Rosa says softly. “I did not intend to make a scene out there. Quin and I have grown almost inseparable these months since he’s left here. I wanted to be here to help him explain.”

Ignoring Rosa Mom looks to me. “Quint, what is going on with this strange woman? With your inheritance? Why do you have a goblin? Why are you back?”

From the pack I remove a small bundle. Unwrapping it I reveal the small idol that my uncle had commissioned Aristocles to make for him. Passing it to her I say. “This was also watching out for me. Especially when I was feeling homesick. Your brother left it.”

My mother takes the figurine and studies it, her eyes widen as she realize it was an image of her. “Paullus…?”

“He had that made not long before he passed over.” I say, standing and stepping close to my mom. “The man who made this was a friend of mine and he is sorely missed.”

“Why me?” She whispers, studying the exquisite craftsmanship of the idol. “He never visited. He never even wrote me.”

“I don’t know. I thought you might know.” I say. “I think near the end even his corrupt soul was craving something pure and real. He probably felt he couldn’t come back again. He’d strayed too far. Perhaps he had it made for the same reason he left your son his estate. Perhaps it was a new guardian in your image. Or perhaps he left it with Aristocles on purpose for me to find it. To offer me the comfort of something familiar in my new home. I can only guess.”

Putting my arm around her shoulder I lead her to the table. The three of us take seats. My mom continues to stare at the figurine as I begin to tell my tale. As I tell her about my first and only day in Rome where I received my inheritance and immediately spent the monetary part of my inheritance on a **** in the **** market that bound for culling she was already shaking her head in disapproval.

“My son. Do not lie to me.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“A…girl as attractive as this one would not have gone unsold. And you would not have gotten her for a mere hundred and sixty denarii.” She looks into me like only a mother can. “I want the truth. All of it.”

“Alright.” I take a deep breath and look to Rosa. Though she could not see me she knew I was looking her way and she gives me a single small nod of her head. “Mom. Rosa is only half demon. Her other half is…Amazon.”

“Amazon!” Mom’s eyes widen and snap to Rosa. The flit down for just a second before locking back onto Rosa’s face, she gasps. “Quintus Quirinius Quintilianus! What were you…?”

“Mom. She is not what they say.” I say quickly, cutting off her tirade. “Rosa is not the enemy. She is not a monster. She’s a person. A very special person. And in that moment she had nobody in the world. I couldn’t let her die.”

“Your son saved me.” Rosa says softly, gently stroking my arm. “In every way. And he has continued to save me ever since. Your son is a great man, though sometimes he doesn’t see it.”

I take Rosa’s delicate hand. “She is…my Lady. I love her, Mom.”

“Gods around us, Quint! An Amazon? You fell in love with an Amazon!?”

“And she bears your grandchild.” I sit tall, meeting her gaze without regret, for how can one regret the greatest joy in one’s life? “We’ve been blessed.” Rosa and I look at each other and share a loving gaze. “I’m going to be a dad.”

“My grand…!?” Mom closes her eyes and leans back, muttering prayers under her breath. “What have you done to my son, you…”

“Please. Just let me tell me tell the tale.” I say, my voice gentle but firm. “I am trusting you with this. I need you to understand.”

After a few deep breaths Mom opens her eyes again. She looks at me for a long time then slowly, ever so slowly, I watch a subtle change come over her. Her tense shoulders relax and her pinched eyes and mouth ease. She shakes her head…as a wistful smile plays at her lips. She laughs! A soft and sort of sad laugh, but a genuine one. As if Fortuna herself had played a prank on her that she could help but begrudgingly see the humor of. “Of course you’re in love with an Amazon.” She reaches for my other hand and I give it to her. “There’s always one. Always.”

“What?” I say.

“Something I was saying to Nonno just the other day.” She says, squeezing my hand tightly. “We’re not like your dad’s family. We never quite fit in, not all the way. We are people of Ceres, people of the land, our roots run deep right here. But there’s more to us. Some might call it a weed among the grain. Every so often one of our seeds is carried on the wind. Every generation there’s one of us that walks a different path. Your uncle Paullus was my generation’s lost seed.” She looks down to her idol a moment then back up to me. “You are the next. I knew it. I always knew it deep down, though I was afraid to admit it. You were always different from the others. Your father’s son, yes, but also of my blood. When you received that inheritance…” Her smile becomes full, her eyes full of an anguished pride. “Why did you think I was willing to let you go in the first place? I knew I couldn’t keep you here for much longer.” She bring my hand to her mouth and kisses it. “Tell me your story, Quint.”