Redenta and the Jab

Reading Time: 3 minutes

by Rita Siligato

I made the appointment, for me and for you.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I went to the pharmacy this afternoon. There was no one.”

“And how did you make the appointment?”

Redenta is standing by the window, cellphone in hand. Her husband Dario – she could see him in her mind – is sitting on the tiny loveseat in front of his window, in his own home, a fifteen minute walk from hers.

“There were no customers, silly! Of course the pharmacist was there. Do you remember Giulia, the blonde pharmacist? She was very kind to me. I made the appointment for you, too.”

“I don’t remember this blonde Giulia you are talking about: is her hair color significant?”

Redenta snorts. Her own hair is totally white now. She decided to let it go “natural” after a few attempts with the wondrous coloring shampoo she tried almost a year ago.

“It is not significant, Dario, no. Giulia was very nice. I had your papers with me, and she managed to make the appointment for you, too. She knows you have troubles with your legs. We must be at the Hydrodynamic Power Plant next Monday at eight o’ clock in the morning.”

“It is not a hospital.”

Redenta counts to ten, then answers: “No, Dario, it is not a hospital. They decided to move the vaccination point to Porto Vecchio. It is easier to park.”

“We don’t own a car, Redenta.”

“No, we don’t. But many people do. And it is closer to our homes. We could meet at the Canale, by Joyce’s statue, have a coffee at the coffee machine and then walk to the vaccination point. What do you think?”

“At eight o’ clock in the morning, Redenta?”

“So it says on the paper.”

“You are never awake at eight o’ clock in the morning. You are in bed turning on the other side, at that hour.”

Redenta chews her nails: it’s a bad habit, she knows, but she is ninety years old now. She cannot change any habit, including reading in bed till two and sleeping till ten, at least. Then she wakes up properly and she is ready to start her day.

“Giulia told me she cannot change the date or the hour.”

“Let’s skip the jab, then.”

“We cannot. We have the appointment. It’s a duty.”

Twirling the sash of her purple dressing gown, she thinks. What can she tell Dario to make him a bit livelier? Being younger than her – four years – he always was the satellite and she was the boss. 

“It’s next Monday, Dario. I will figure something out. Good night, love!

“Good night. See you tomorrow for our coffee. Eleven by my door.”

Redenta is now ready for her evening readings. She looks at the couple of books she has just started. And she wants to read her beloved Jane Austen again. The book cover is pale pink now: she remembers when she bought it, it was bright fuchsia, then. She was nineteen. She had not met Dario yet.

At eleven sharp she stands by the Dario’s front door. She buzzes the entry phone, but she is already hearing her husband’s heavy pace coming down the stairs, and the regular beat of his walking stick.

“Here I am, girl.”

They look right and left. Too many people around, today, to kiss. They smile to each other.

“Early morning for you, eleven…”

“Yes, Dario. I figured it out…”

His large dark eyes look larger: he is examining her face trying to understand what she is up to.

“Don’t say a word. I will not walk all the way to the next coffee machine, girl.”

“No, Dario. We will have a proper coffee in a paper cup at the bar nearby. But I have wonderful news about the jab. Our jab.”

She strides to the bar, and asks the barista: “Two coffees, black, no sugar. For my husband and me. Make it hot, please!”

Dario is coming, slowly and frowning.

“In a paper cup! A coffee…”

“Don’t be picky. Lean on the outdoor table. I will bring you the coffee… here it is! Nice and hot, just as you like it!”

They taste their coffee: he smiles again.

Swiftly, she places her jab: “We will go to the Hydrodynamic Power Plant at eleven, next Monday. I will tell them that I overslept, and that my husband wasn’t able to wake me up on time!”

They grin, making a toast with the paper cups as if they were wine glasses. Problem solved.