Chapter 19: Tales of a Heartfelt Island

  It was indeed rare that Chloe was ever sick; but it just so happened that she was this week. She messaged Jacob on Saturday night, while he was watching TV on his own, telling him about how she’d been knocked out by a cold; and there was no way she was going to be able to make it for their usual Sunday lunch with their grandmother. Jacob was sorry to hear, but was still committed to making sure that their grandmother didn’t spend Sunday on her own; even if he had to take a train and two buses to get to her place.

  Church was the same as usual. The same songs, the same sitting, standing and kneeling. And also, as usual, Jacob had to pinch himself to keep from falling asleep. Maria also happened to be there that Sunday; even though she’d been coming along less and less as of late. She sat next to Jacob in the pews and lent against his shoulder casually. Jacob swore that he caught her dozing off more than once. He knew he’d be in for it if he pinched her to wake her up.

  His relationship with Maria was more public now, and so not only was he not as shy about it as he had been, but he was also less inclined to hide things. He was happy to sit next to her, and he was happy to walk her to her car when the service finished.

  But although he liked spending time with Maria, the best part of his Sundays were, without a doubt, lunch with his grandmother. For Jacob it was precious time with someone who might not be around for too much longer. And it was also a nice escape from the chaos that he felt was erupting in his life right now.

  Over the past week, he’d continued to distance himself from Pip. She seemed to have gotten the picture and was returning the sentiment. Jacob wondered what he would have done if the roles were reversed and concluded that he couldn’t really blame her. But he didn’t know what else he could have done; it was still, Jacob thought, for the best.

  Jacob sat down on the dining room table, with the tennis playing in the background, and sunlight streaming in through the windows. His grandmother placed down a plate of hot ross il forn in front of him; steam rose from the brown rice as his mouth watered.

  ‘Slowly, don’t eat it too fast, ta’ his grandmother warned as she went to fetch her own plate. Jacob had to hold himself back from shoveling the whole thing down his throat. When his grandmother came back with her plate, he poured them both a glass of juice, and began filling his fork with small bites.

  ‘And how are tings going wit Maria? I saw you sitting wit her today’ his grandmother asked.

  ‘Umm, okay, I suppose.’

  ‘You seem very good togeder. Do you tink you will get married soon?’

  ‘Woah! Woah! Nunna!’ Jacob began waving his hands about, and almost spat his food everywhere, ‘it’s still early days! Can you just relax.’

  ‘Careful ta! Don’t eat wit your moutful,’ his grandmother scolded.

  Jacob swallowed.

  ‘Sorry Nunna. Maria is lovely. And I do like her; but we’re not thinking about marriage anytime soon. Things are different to what they were in the fifties. Anyway I feel kinda weird at the moment. Like I’m not really qualified to handle life. I just need a break, you know?’

  Jacob took another bite of the hot rice and a quick sip of orange juice.

  ‘Oh, miskin. I tell you what, hej, I make you some extra pastizzi to take home next week.’

  Jacob smiled. Food was always a welcome treat.

  ‘Thanks Nunna.’

  ‘We all need a break sometimes. Tings can be hard, hej, I know. And when tings are hard, it always feels like it will last forever. But it never does. No, it never does. It got better for me and for your Nannu. When we first came to Australia, oh my godfader, I tell you, it was hard.’

  ‘Really? How so’ Jacob asked curiously. He’d never really considered what life might have been for his grandmother. It seemed like people were dealing with different kinds of problems back then - or maybe they were somewhat similar. Either way, the thought of hearing stories from his grandmother was somewhat comforting. It was better than talking about his own life. He gave her a look that beckoned for her to continue.

  ‘To get her, for starters, we spent tree months on da boat. It was a long time; and it felt like we were going to da oder side of the world. No, we were going to da oder side of da world. But what was more, we were going to a different world. And when we got here we couldn’t even speak da language. It’s not like you can just send a message to your friends when you get here, eider. Back den all we could do was write home, some sometimes it took more dan tree monts to get a reply back, ta. But dere were people who had it much harder dan us. Oh my, Madonna,’ his grandmother briefly paused to make the sign of the cross before continuing, ‘I remember, dere were people living in chicken sheds because dey couldn’t get a place to live. We were lucky.’

  ‘And why did you come over here then?’

  ‘Back in dose days, Malta wasn’t doing very good. We came here to work and earn money. And dey needed us too, here in Australia, dey needed more people to come over and work. I don’t know why, ta, but the government was paying for people to come over. If we came over and worked for five years, de government would pay for our boat ticket over. At the beginning, we weren’t planning on staying for too long; we wanted to save some money and den go back to Malta.’

  ‘And what happened? Why didn’t you go back?’

  ‘Well we had your uncle, and den your moder. We saved up our money to buy dis house, and den after a while, you just get settled. You know. It took a long time to settle in, but dis is my home now. I don’t tink I could ever go back to live in Malta now. ’

  ‘And you couldn’t speak the language at all when you got here?’

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  ‘Your grandfader could, but only a little bit. He was good at the languages, he could speak Italian and Spanish fluently. But me, no, I couldn’t understand a bloody word. All I could do was look and point and wave. And dey treated you like an idiot, de Australians. Like you were a little child. Sometimes dey get annoyed at you because you can’t understand simple tings, ta. But they didn’t know how isolated we were. Tings are different now. People tink the Soudern Europeans are very nice now; because we have a rich culture. And dey like to go to our countries on holidays. But back den everyone hated us because we were foreigners and we were taking everybody's jobs.’

  ‘How did you work, if you couldn’t speak the language?’

  ‘I got a job as a cleaner, where I didn’t need to speak much. Your grandfader worked as a labourer. But even when you are a cleaner, you heard da people speaking. After a few years I got better at da language and den I found a job helping in a kitchen; and den I started working as a chef. Back in dose days, you didn’t need to do de qualifications and apprenticeships, dat dey call dem now. You just learn on da job.’

  Jacob couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like to be in a new country, in a new place, where you could barely communicate. Even in his current era, it would have been isolating to say the least. But anyone could just get on a plane and go back home in a day if they didn’t like it. But his grandparents couldn’t. No. For them it was a huge commitment.

  His grandmother continued, ‘de only people we had was our family, I had a sister here, and your grandfader had a cousin. Dere were oder people who came over from Malta. But dat was it, really. But you get used to it, ta. I had children and a family who I loved; and tings became normal. And den it was hard again when your Nannu died; it was the hardest dats ever happened to me, ta. But dat was many years ago, and even still, tings get better. Or maybe you just get used to it. I don’t know.’

  ‘Hey Nunna…?’

  ‘Ow, hej?’

  ‘How did you meet Nannu?’

  ‘How did I meet your Nannu? A long, long time ago. Let me tink now. I was seventeen. Back den I lived in Si??iewi, our family owned a farm and we used to be out working on it every day. Even when da sun was out and it was very hot. And oh, Madonna, it could get hot. We worked very hard, but we were happy.

  Anyway, what was it you wanted to know? Ah, iwa, how I met your Nannu. I met your Nannu trough my broder. You see, my broder was married to your Nannu’s sister and sometimes dey would go out togeder and I would go wit dem, and sometimes your Nannu would go out to see dem too. Unfortunately, my broder, Giani, died of lung cancer quite a long time ago. But I remember when I first met your Nannu. He was tree years older dan me; and he had dark eyes and dark hair, just like you. And when I first met Mikiel, he was wit his friend Luigi, and dey came to see us in a bar in Valetta. And we spoke for hours, and, oh he made me laugh, ta. When I left him dat night, to go home wit my broder, he said to Luigi, I’m going to marry dat girl. It took him a while, but eventually he did.’

  ***

  Jacob couldn’t sleep that night. He lay in bed looking up at the roof of his room with thoughts swirling in his mind. Thoughts about Maria, thoughts about Pip. Thoughts about life. He was beginning to fall into that deep swell, of never ending,continuous thinking that would see him through until the early hours of the morning, and cause the few hours of sleep he did get to be rough and disturbed. For some reason, the more he tried to feel content about things, the less he did. But just as he was beginning to be consumed by his own mind, everything got swept aside, and suddenly he began to think about the conversation he had with his grandmother. He was filled with thoughts of a sun-baked island, cactus plants growing in the streets, and creamy sandstone buildings. Bright blue skies, siestas, and lots of food; that was how he pictured things back in his grandmother’s day. Though he was sure that her memories were much richer than his made up ones.

  From what she’d told him, his grandfather had been quite a smooth talker. Jacob had barely been a teenager when his grandfather had died. Jacob’s memories of him were vague, and blurry. But one thing he would never forget were some of the stories his grandfather had told him about his own childhood, similar to the stories he’d heard from his grandmother that day - they were some of the fondest memories he had. He cast his mind back to the days of his childhood.

  ***

  ‘The Maltese, we are strong people,’ his grandfather had told him proudly one morning while his was staying at his grandparents for the weekend. His grandmother was in the kitchen getting lunch ready while he sipped on a cup of tea with his grandfather.

  ‘We were bombed constantly during da war,’ his grandfather continued, ‘It was hard for us, ta. We didn’t know when da war was going to end. People were always talking, you know you, saying dat da would only last anoder mont, but oder people would say dat it would go on for anoder ten years. Da Germans had taken over almost every oder country in Eurpoe; but they couldn’t take over Malta. Oh no. Not even after bombing our island for two year. Two years. Hitler said if he couldn’t have our island, nobody could. He was planning to bomb it to da ground. One day I find de newspaer article dat I kept all dese years, and I show you. But even after all dat, da Maltese people didn’t give up hope.’

  ‘Malta got bombed for two years?’ Jacob chimed in with his squeaky little voice.

  ‘Yes. We were da most bombed country in da second world war. And not only dat, but dey bombed our farms, and dey bombed da supply ships from England. Dey tried to starve us into surrender. But here’s a little secret. You can’t tell anybody, ta’ his grandfather leaned in to whisper into Jacob’s ear. Jacob’s eyes widened with curiosity, ‘my fader worked at the docs. Sometimes he would steal a little bit of food and bring it back to us.’

  ‘You could have gotten in trouble for that?’ Jacob asked curiously.

  Jacob’s Grandfather, Mikiel, nodded his head in agreement.

  ‘But how did your father get food, if there was no food on the island?’ Jacob asked.

  ‘Some ships got trough, ta, but not enough to feed everyone. Even dough my fader was stealing tings from da docks, it was still not enough. We were still very, very hungry. But some people were so starving dat dey were eating rats in deir homes. It was terrible. But we didn’t give up hope. We endured and got trough it.’

  ‘And was it the German’s that were bombing the supply ships?’

  ‘No, not just da Germans. But de Italians too. De Italian’s flew high; dey were like dots in the sky and deir bombs never hit deir targets. But da Germans flew low. Dey got shot down often, but deir attacks were always de most brutal. I was just a little boy when it was all happening. Sometimes, we would retreat to our underground shelter when de alarms rang. When de luftwuffers flew over de island, da whole eart shook, and dust came down from da roof. I was so scared because I tought de whole room was going to collapse. But we didn’t give up. If it weren’t for us Maltese, de Nazis would have been able to push down into Africa and den dey would have taken over da whole of Europe.’

  ‘Wow, that is so cool!’ Jacob remarked.

  His grandfather pointed up at the red and white Maltese flag that hung on the wall.

  ‘You see dat cross in da corner of our flag; it’s a medal dat de country was awarded for bravery. We are de only country to ever be awarded dat medal,’ his grandfather got up out of his chair, ‘Eima! Come on outside, I have a smoke before lunch; and I tell you more about the war.’

  ‘When did you start smoking Nannu?’ Jacob asked.

  ‘A long, long time ago, hej.’

  Jacob’s mind returned to the present day, as he lay up looking at the roof, unable to sleep. How life must have been different back when his grandparents were children; a part of him wished he had been born in the fifties - with no social media, no constant dopamine hits - where people communicated apart from a screen. Where people spoke to each other face to face. He should have been born in the fifties. He tried to recall the story that his grandfather had told him about how he’d started smoking; but before he could remember how it started he had already fallen asleep.

  Note:

  Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I had a really hard time writing it, and I considered cutting it multiple times. Although a lot of stuff in this chapter is very much based on real information; and most of it is derived from stories my grandparents told me.