Ida and Mirabella, Shannon Yang [e book reader for pc txt] 📗

There once lived a Florentine girl in the Renaissance whose name was Ida. She sat on the window seat, looking out into the market in Florence. She saw a girl of the Medici family in lavish clothing. Almost everyone in Florence, including Ida, knew she was Mirabella, whom every friend with money or power called Mimi. The bright colors, the sparkling jewels, all passed by Ida’s eyes. Green. Her favorite color, but too expensive. She dreamed and dreamed of life like that. She herself was born into that powerful family, but they did not want her. Now she had been given to a merchant and his wife, who became her caretakers, and Ida remained a lost chapter in history.

The merchant, Arnaldo, came back into the house after a long day of trade. Then he knocked on Ida’s door. Ida gladly opened it for him and his wife, Flavia.

“Now, Ida, I will soon be off to China. It will take a long time, but Marco Polo of Venice has done it, been there, even met the khan. Imagine all the goods and silk and spices that I will bring home from Asia! It will be quite worthwhile,” Arnaldo ranted. “Now while I am gone, be good for Flavia.”

“Yes. After all, I cannot handle a nuisance,” agreed Flavia.

Ida thought they didn’t deserve it. They were already lucky enough that the Medicis gave her to them. They should be responsible enough to raise Ida like the girl in the market. It wasn’t her fault that Flavia couldn’t have kids for some reason. She decided that she should be rebellious and be extra naughty while Arnaldo was gone.

Flavia called for supper, the last one with Arnaldo for a while. The roast beef and the spaghetti certainly smelled good. The lemonade, grape juice, and sorbet made Ida’s mouth water. She wasn’t in the mood for roast beef and spaghetti, though. Ida put it all on her plate put twirled the fork around and around. Luckily, Arnaldo ate quickly and didn’t stay long.

He hurriedly went to his room and got his things, then, giving Ida a hug and Flavia a kiss, and waving goodbye to them both, ran outside on his way to the port. Ida kept twirling around her spaghetti and holding the roast beef sandwich in her hand for no particular reason as Flavia was indulged in and focused on her own food.

She excused herself for the restroom, and Ida quickly disposed of her portion of the spaghetti and roast beef as if she had eaten it. Then, she was curious and looked at the bottle of wine in the middle of the table. She poured an amount of it into the grape juice pitcher, and the juice stayed as dark as it was before. Next, she poured some of the wine and grape juice mixture into her cup. She took a small sip, and found the feeling of euphoria very satisfying. She took another, then another, until her cup was empty and she refilled it again.

Just as Flavia was coming back in, Ida sat down in her seat, plate empty, cup down, napkin folded neatly on her lap. “I’m finished,” she instinctively announced, with a misleading grin.

“Great, my dear,” was the reply. “Are you going to finish that grape juice of yours? I shall be going up to sew. Good night.”

Ida drank a bunch of wine and when she was tired, walked sluggardly and twistedly to bed. For many days on end, she took wine from the cabinet late at night and early in the mornings. She didn’t want to eat anything, and got rid of all her food. She also didn’t want to go out of the house: she was so drunk.

Ida got skinnier and skinnier from lack of food, and before she knew it, her dresses were too big and drooped a lot. Arnaldo had already sold or traded all her smaller dresses from when she was younger, so Flavia had to buy new ones. Every few days, she carried a heavy box back to the house while Ida gradually got thinner. They now were not wealthy, but poor.

Since these dresses were already wasting this much money, why not buy green ones? It wouldn’t make a difference. Ida happily wore those instead and felt a sense of triumph. She continued to drink wine and lose her judgement and coordination.

One day Flavia looked at the poor girl’s limp body and just knew there was something totally wrong. “Why, Ida, I need to take you to the doctor’s! This is a serious problem,” she exclaimed. Ida didn’t argue and went outside with her.

As they passed by the market, Mirabella de’ Medici was there, along with many other kids. The small Ida with wavy hazel hair and wearing a dark green dress with a ruffled skirt and a ruffled top and ruffled sleeves was such a sight! Her arms waved around and she walked like a lazy sloth on the smooth ocean blue tile pavement. Her hair moved around both because of the motion and the wind.

Mirabella, leader of the children, yelled at the top of her lungs, “Whoa, look, it’s seaweed! And so far up the river Arno!”

All the other kids laughed with Mirabella at Ida, the “seaweed” floating far away from the sea. It was really mean, but Ida actually did look like seaweed.

“You’re awesome and cool, Mimi,” Ida suddenly said, with terrible, slurred speech. What kind of talk was that? Perhaps her judgement was responsible.

“How dare you call me Mimi,” Mirabella shot back. “Only better

people can call me that, not-even-the-daughter of a very, very poor merchant. You’re seaweed far, far

up the Arno. Everyone, let’s see how much give it has, if it can get all the way to the Florentine market!”

The kids pulled on Ida’s hair, dress, and limbs. Her bones were broken, fractured, sprained, and her dress was stained with blood and torn. (Good thing Ida had many more beautiful green dresses at home.) Her shape and condition was too bad to walk all the way to the doctor’s anymore. Instead, a rich man, but not a Medici, was kind enough to give Ida and Flavia a ride home.

Flavia tended to Ida, and Ida suffered very much. Her pain was great enough to kill Mirabella if she were going through it instead. Ida craved for wine, but there was none, and all Flavia gave her to drink was actual, pure grape juice, lemonade, water, and soup. She got withdrawal symptoms, but soon after that it was over and she no longer thought about wine. She also had to start eating. She was much more healthy, but still not as big as she was before, so Ida still got to wear the green dresses that were so grand. Her problems were solved.

Arnaldo finally came back from China with Asian goods that made a good profit. All the people in the market wanted to buy the stuff, and when it was all sold out, Arnaldo, Flavia, and Ida were almost as rich as the Medici family was.

Again Ida was on her window seat looking out into the market, thinking about how she could get a notable amount of revenge on Mirabella for what she did...

There was a sharp knock on the door. It was Arnaldo and Flavia. “I shall be going to China again,” Arnaldo started, “and I may make many more trips from now on. First of all, look at how much money I have earned from from just that one trip! And it is surprising that we are having a rebirth of classical culture here in Italy right now! But look at China. Eastern civilization fascinates me, and I desire to go again. Goodbye.”

At supper, Ida did not drink wine because she already knew the consequences. Arnaldo left without much happening.

Two days later, Ida was bored out of her mind. But suddenly Flavia announced that her brother was coming. For three months!

“His name is Franco and he is a highly respected humanist. His wife cannot make it, but his children will be coming. His son, Leandro, is fifteen, like you, and Lena, is still a little girl at one. I expect you to take care of her,” explained Flavia.

Waiting for Franco and his family to come, Ida went out into the city to watch interesting events. Mirabella, at fourteen, was getting married, and Ida was glad that she would start being a housewife and not a child. She followed them until they went into a house like Ida’s. Ida ate the wedding food that tasted really good, and Mirabella, in her excitement, did not notice her there at all. She even told her new bridegroom that there was a girl that looked like seaweed. This really angered Ida, so she ran home.

That afternoon, Franco, Leandro, and Lena arrived. Franco knew much about people, so he was sure to know a plan for revenge that Mirabella would fall for. Franco told her his plan. “It will work,” he concluded. “And it’s totally fine with me.”

Franco painted a picture on canvas of Mirabella with Leandro, and because Mirabella didn’t know who Leandro was, it was totally fine. Mirabella was drowning in the Mediterranean Sea, and Leandro was laughing at her. As he was painting, Ida left Lena wrapped in a blanket on Mirabella’s doorstep. She made sure Mirabella and her husband weren’t looking, then she went to hide behind a shrub.

Later, Mirabella was about to go outside, but saw the baby Lena in front of her feet. She called her husband.

“Aw, look, come,” she said, with a new, unusual side to her that actually cared and loved. “It’s a nice little girl that was left here. Or perhaps because we are the best people in the world. She’s such a cutie! Now let’s feed her, get her a proper bed, and, oh, what should we name her?”

Ida almost giggled watching her, so she waited for them to go inside and care for her in there instead. Then, she walked home rapidly, so she could laugh her head off.

“Things are going as planned,” she told her uncle. “She and her husband are totally over Lena right now.”

“Good, now what do you think of the painting? I have named it ‘Mimi de’ Medici Spending Quality Time with Boy Leandro’ and it will surprise her, even offend her. Hopefully, this ‘Mimi’ will fall for the note as well. We have done some great work, don’t you think? Bullying, but that is our goal, I believe.”

Ida nodded and read the note.

Mimi, you definitely know by now that you are a fail. No, wait, you are so fail you don’t know. I want your baby for myself, and you have wasted so