Page 116 - The Grotesque Children's Book

overcome his utter despair, throwing himself into his work. But all he could
think of was Gaetana, and found himself making a life-sized sculpture of her.

Now, Vitale was not a spiritual man. He did not believe either in the
traditional gods, or any of the newer Christian deities, so he didn't really think
anyone was listening when he dropped to his knees, praying through his
sobbings, “Please return my Gaetana to me. I'm lost without her! I can't join
her in death because I can't leave Helen, my sweet doltish Helen. So please
restore Gaetana to life. I love her, she is my everything. Just let me see her
and talk to her again for a day. An hour!”

Those of you who believe in one of the deities in whom Vitale disbelieved
will not be surprised to hear that a faint ruby-colored glow began to rise in the
statue's cheeks, and a little trembling appear in the fingertips. Those of you
who do not believe in those deities must supply your own explanation (Vitale's
grief causing hallucinations being a likely candidate). But for Vitale, there was
no thought of outside forces at work, there was only his radiant beautiful wife
standing before him once again. That her feet were affixed to the marble
pedestal didn't mar his pleasure in the slightest.

“You're alive!” he said. “It's a miracle!”

“It is indeed, considering all the plaster I must have eaten. You should
have covered it up so Helen couldn't get at it.”

“I should have eaten the cornetti so we'd be together.”

“Ugh, those cornetti! What a way to die. So. How've you been, Vitale?”

“Grieving.”

“Oh, that's so touching. Wait, just checking...grieving for me, right?”

“For you, and my empty pointless life without you.”

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