Chapter 8 #2
When it was decided that they would take the leap and try out Tokyo (after all, it was a life-changing amount of money), they scraped together their savings and announced they were taking Elena there for her tenth birthday.
Alessandra’s mother and father thought this was outrageous.
“What’s so bad about turning ten in Italy?
” her mother demanded. “We all turned ten in Italy, including you!” But Alessandra half lied and said that Federico had a job to do in Tokyo, and they were needed there.
Her mother understood money. Moreover, she decided to save for retirement and join in.
Alessandra’s father wouldn’t be left at home, so the five of them boarded a plane in Naples and traveled farther than any of them had ever gone.
That first week in Tokyo was a doozy. It took forever for them to recover from their jet lag, and during that time, it felt like Alessandra’s mother wanted to argue about everything just to pass the time.
Elena, on the other hand, adored it. She was sure that the entire trip was in celebration of her tenth birthday, so she soaked it up, throwing her hands up and dancing down the street, singing her favorite songs.
Alessandra and Federico were overjoyed at their daughter’s joie de vivre.
They danced along with her, laughing, all the while investigating where and when they wanted to put up CAT’s next mural.
On day six, they made their decision about where, and on day eight, they crafted their plans on when.
Because Alessandra’s mother and father were exhausted every night, they decided to leave a note for them in the kitchen, telling them they’d gone out for the evening but would be back by dawn. They wrote that they were going dancing. “I’m sure they’ll never see it,” Alessandra said mischievously.
Elena was tucked in long before they left for the night.
The mural Alessandra drew that night was both a celebration and a critique of Italian culture.
It was what she loved about her upbringing alongside what she thought made her country weak, and it was also an acknowledgment of Italy and Japan’s savage past in World War II.
It was ultra-political and would likely anger many people, including the very individuals who’d invited CAT to paint here.
Federico said, “I hope you know what you’re doing,” and kissed her on the dark street corner. Their faces were covered in paint.
The following morning was Elena’s tenth birthday.
Without having slept, Alessandra raced out that morning to buy sweet treats for breakfast and returned to find her parents, daughter, and Federico dancing in the living room.
As she put down the sweets, she realized, with a jolt, that she’d forgotten to remove the note she’d left for her parents, the one alluding to being out all night.
She’d thought that she and Federico had slipped in without notice. But what if her parents saw the note?
She knew how her mother was. She’d wait for the best opportunity to strike.
All day, they celebrated. They went to the zoo and the aquarium, ate street food, went to a museum, and grabbed sushi at a restaurant.
Elena started yawning around seven thirty, but she maintained that she was a big girl now and could stay up.
Alessandra felt gooey with love for her.
She’d thought that she wouldn’t be alive for her daughter’s eighth birthday, and here she was, alive on her tenth!
More than that, she’d built a career she was proud of, one that very well might sustain her and her family.
It wasn’t till the end of the day that she and Federico dared to look at the news.
A part of her had been terrified that they’d call her mural a fraud.
But at the moment, street pedestrians were saying that this seemed like a genuine CAT.
The newspaper that had said they’d send her mountains of cash was still “investigating,” apparently.
This put a fire in her belly. “What are we going to do if they don’t send us the money? ” she asked Federico under her breath.
Of course, her mother heard her, even from the next room.
“What’s going on?” her mother asked, getting up and coming into the kitchen.
Alessandra put on a smile. “We’re just talking about Federico’s gig here.”
“And what is that gig?” her mother asked.
“It’s a pottery thing,” Alessandra lied.
Her mother’s eyes bore holes through Federico’s head. Finally, she asked, “And where were you last night? All night long?”
Alessandra flared her nostrils. “We weren’t out that late.”
“What about the note?” her mother asked.
“We forgot to throw it out,” Federico said. “We got back earlier than expected, but we didn’t want you to worry if we didn’t.”
Alessandra’s mother gave them a look that meant she didn’t believe them. And then she said, “I hope you know what you have at stake here.”
Alessandra felt a switch flip in her head. Before she could stop herself, she said, “Mama, I’ve found something to live for. Something that completes me.”
Her mother sensed something. She knows , Alessandra thought for the first time. But under her breath, her mother just said, “You have a daughter. Isn’t that enough? It always was for me.”
Alessandra toiled in shame.
But the worst of it was that for the first many weeks, even long after they returned from Japan, the Tokyo newspaper refused to pay them.
They had the Swiss account number, which, they knew, had no connection to Alessandra and Federico.
But they still hadn’t verified that this CAT mural was a real and legitimate CAT mural.
A few other fake CAT murals popped up, and Tokyo residents began to demand answers for why the “clear CAT mural” wasn’t being rewarded.
Others, of course, said that CAT was greedy for taking the money.
They’d thought she was a pure artist. Others countered, saying that CAT deserved to receive money and recognition for her work.
(Alessandra was pleased that they’d begun to call CAT a woman, almost exclusively.)
Ultimately, Federico had to involve a Tokyo-based lawyer.
It wasn’t anything they wanted to do, as they feared it would reveal who they were.
But they needed the money for their daughter, for their parents, for their lives.
It took months of litigation before the Tokyo newspaper agreed to transfer the money to CAT’s Swiss account, more than they’d initially said, as stipulated in the legal agreement.
They’d made CAT wait too long. They hadn’t stuck to their offer.
It was one of the happiest days of Alessandra’s and Federico’s lives.
But they knew better than to celebrate publicly.
They kept the money safe in a Swiss account, siphoning off just enough to cover household bills, food, and other essentials for Elena.
Alessandra’s mother wasn’t making any other accusations, not yet. Maybe she was biding her time.
It was the beginning of 2018, and Alessandra hadn’t had cancer in two years. She was on top of the world.