ELSA
“Elsa, are you alright?” Marcello’s concerned voice sounds like it is from miles away.
“No way. He is dead,” I keep murmuring to myself.
“He is alive Elsa. He didn’t die,” he says, shaking me at the same time as if to wake me from my nightmare.
“But how? I saw him dead with my own eyes. We buried him. How is he here and-” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Impossible.”
“You are seeing for yourself, Elsa. He wasn’t buried. We replaced his body and took him away before he could die.”
“What?”
The abomination of the act sounds disgusting itself.
“Then whom did we bury?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we saved your father,” he responds without flinching.
“Did you kill someone to-”
“I told you that is not what is important here, Elsa. Your father has been in a coma since then and has only managed to wake up yesterday. He is just sleeping right now but he will wake up soon. Maybe you will believe it when you see his eyes open,” he responds, his expression unreadable.
I look back at my father lying there in his sleep. Tears start to roll afresh down my cheeks.
He is alive!
All this time I had considered him dead, he had been alive all along. And he has been here all along, in Bologna. Who could have even thought of the possibility?
“I have known for almost five months now Marcello and you have kept this knowledge of my father’s still being alive yet you watched me believe that he was dead,” I mumble between sobs.
“There is no way I could have told you yet I was also not sure he was going to actually survive. He has been in a coma all this time. I have tried hiring the most skilled doctors that I could find to make sure he wakes up. What if he didn’t make it after I told you about this? It would be unbearable for you. But now he is fine. I am sure that he is going to live. That’s why I am finally letting you know about this,” he says.
Unable to make myself stop crying, I reach down for my father’s pale face. His skin is warm, and full of life. He has been properly taken care of and his beard is properly trimmed. He looks so handsome and peaceful in his sleep.
I break into sobbing, unable to help myself. Marcello keeps holding me and doesn’t say anything.
“Papà. It’s me, Elsa. Your princess. I am here for you, Papà,” I call out in my broken voice, holding his wired hand.
I finally regained my stability after a good amount of time. Marcello watches on in silence, and I appreciate that he doesn’t bother to make me stop crying. I finally feel like I can’t very anymore. I cried so much when I thought he had died. I can’t keep crying now that he is alive.
I rub off the tears with the back of my hands and sit on the chair Marcello pulls behind me.
I watch the machines as they beep and change readings.
He is alive.
It is so hard to accept.
“Why?” I ask amidst the silence above the beeping of the life support machines.
“Why did you save my father?” I ask without turning to look at him.
I hear him sucking in a breath before answering, “I had to. He had been a good person to me when I needed him and so I had to pay back the favor.”
“What did he do? What is it that is so great a debt you had to save both his and his daughter’s lives?”
“It is something only Roberto and I can understand. I have tried to explain it to you before but you failed to understand it. But your father understands it.”
“But this payment… It is too much. You brought him back to life.”
“I had a professional team to help and do things meticulously on time. They worked so hard to save his life. There is a point where I had also believed he had died and given up but your father is a very strong man. He refused to die. He is still young and has ambitions to achieve. It was not me who brought him back. A lot of people worked hard. A lot of doctors and God also approved,” he says.
My heart swells with so much love for this man, I can’t help but get up and bury myself in his embrace.
“You have done so much for me and my family, Marcello. I will never be able to thank you enough. I love you so much,” I say, crying once more into his chest. He holds me close and lets me cry into his shirt.
“I love you too, baby. Now stop crying. You will not feel good after crying this much,” he whispers into my ear while rubbing my hair. Pulling away from the hug, I rub my tears once again and give him a small smile.
There is a sound of someone clearing his throat. We both turn to find papà looking up to us. I dsh to the bed.
“Papà! Papà, it’s me Elsa. I am here, Papà,” I cry out, holding his hand in mine.
“Papà, you are awake. Thank God!” I look into his familiar brown eyes, as all the good memories come flooding into my mind.
He squints and then looks up to Marcello who doesn’t say anything. Has he met him already? Marcello doesn’t say anything.
Papà looks back at me. His eyes search mine and I hold his gaze praying that he is able to remember me, to recognize my face. Can he see properly after all that time of closing his eyes. Can he even hear.
Silence stretches between us, as I hold firmly on to his hand and pray that he is able to recognize me.
“Principessa,” he says, his voice almost a whisper.
“Papà!” I cry out, feeling an immense amount of joy fill my heart.