

English version (hybrid)

This is an integral Hybrid English translation.

The hybrid translation has been effected with automatic translators that, even if highly professional, they always stay also "automatic" and therefore polluted by the defects typical of these translations.

The Hybrid version of our ebooks can be elaborate and corrected by whoever knows well the language of pertinence and that, naturally feels like doing it.

Who will do it, further to have his own name on the cover of the new version ("Translation taken care of from... "), it will earn a quota on the sales of the ebook.

Before risking you in the correction of a text translated in hybrid formality, you always verify that the relative elaboration is still available. If yes, book it! In this way you will have the certainty that any other can perform and to deliver the job before you, at least up to the expiration of the term of delivery pre-visa.

Besides it is possible, that on some jobs is offered some incentives. It verifies here: <http://www.quellidized.it/zedlab>

### Jury Livorati

## The legacy

The legacy

Copyright © 2012  
Zerounoundici Edizioni  
Cover: Image proposed by the author

To My Daughter

FOREWORD

Writing is like life: it tends to self-propagate, to spread. I discovered after posting my previous novel, "M @ rcello", and have experienced the wonderful feeling of poring over its pages printed and collected in a book true , as those found in the library and since I love to read eleven years. A feeling strong enough to repay any effort has gone into writing the novel, and it prompted me, in fact, to continue.

"M @ rcello" was self-published one of the many online services and of itself this does not give him honor, but the final effect of the bound book does not change. So much so that the wave of enthusiasm, the first goal of my life by publishing emerging writer has given me the courage to take a draft of the novel began in 2005, when a lot of will and a new laptop I had accompanied the Travel with whom I hoped to make the leap from simple stories to work more and more complete. This, in brief, is the genesis of "The Legacy".

The novel is a return to my roots, so to speak, to the horror-mystery with which I grew up and where I got more satisfaction from readers. A novel in which I hope to demonstrate to those who have seen "M @ rcello" a simple autobiography that I can write well adapted to the facts that I have not personally experienced. A novel, first of all, with whom I hope to intrigue, excite, amaze, even frightening. A novel, then, from which I hope to get useful information for my future as a boy-who-plays-to-do-it-writer, to understand whether and how the path I have taken is the right one.

A first indication I had thanks to ZeroUnoUndici, the publisher has chosen to believe in "The Legacy" and give me a chance, giving me the satisfaction of the fact that he actually published a novel. A dream experience that crowns, but that, instead of marking an end point, is inserted as a waypoint along the path that lead me to the next work with more motivation, more belief and more confidence, but also with the essential humility that the condition of an emerging writer assumes.

Jury Livorati - May 15, 2012

PROLOGUE

When the bell rang, Robert was sitting in the kitchen, deep in thought, divided equally between the pain and worry. For the first time in days, was amazed to see how the latter had passed the first: if he had said that there could be something worse than the tragic loss of his wife would never have believed. Instead here he was, gnawing at his liver with a thousand questions and look forward to a person who could perhaps bring a little 'responses.

The sound distracted him from thinking like a violent blow, which reacted with a start standing up and reaching stride around the entrance hall.

"I'll go," shouted upstairs to Christine, although there was not really any need.

He had already warned her that she was waiting for a friend's mother, for a chat. He had not told the real reason for the encounter, of course, but he still asked to leave that to take place in private. Cristina did not lecture at the University, that morning, but it was locked in her room to study in preparation for an exam.

Roberto picked up the receiver of the telephone hanging on the wall beside the front door, and pushed the button to open the gate that opened onto the main road outside the house.

"Come ahead," communicated through the handset.

As his eyes fell unconscious on the spare keys of the car of his wife Simona, hung on a hook of a small key chain by a wooden wall, and yet another nostalgic memory of stabbing him to death, he opened the door.

The girl was walking along the driveway from the entrance gate had to have the same age as Simon, but looked at least ten years older. Roberto had already got to meet her some time before, but had not been paying attention to the unknown, not in a day when he had to deal with dozens of other people and with a total alienation from himself and from his life, feeling that never would have experienced in the rest of his life.

Seeing her approach in the light of day nine in the morning, already too hot, in keeping with the general trend of that summer, she found herself studying every detail of the face, as though that operation could be important. He recalled that when he met her before, the woman's face was covered largely by a pair of sunglasses, but despite this, the general impression was that of a person emaciated, perhaps even ill, probably a victim of nervous breakdown or depression.

At that moment, while shifting the focus from the eyes, furrowed by deep and dark circles, lips thin and tight as violin strings, until they are almost invisible, Roberto was confirmed to his feelings. With his face covered with long black hair, which put emphasis on the pale skin, she proceeded on legs as thin and unstable, like a living skeleton, at risk of falling and breaking at the slightest breath of wind.

"Good morning," she murmured, when he was in front of Robert. Beneath the skin you could see with clarity the veins, going to draw a purple-green grating was something disgusting and unnatural.

"Good morning," said Roberto. He had planned at that time and had not prepared anything to say. He realized that the meeting between them was to take place and had organized, and that's that. So, that things were as they should. After all, she had to have something to say. "I ... pleasure. Roberto, "she added, holding out his hand.

"Erika" came the woman, showing a funny and unsuccessful imitation of a smile.

She had beautiful eyes, he saw Robert, but the sorrow of which they were soaked downplaying the potential. Erika could not keep them fixed in its more than a few seconds and looked down. The impression he gave was that of a person who had a combination of those big, unforgivable, and he did not know where to start with an apology.

"Would you ...? Please, let's go ahead, "he invited Roberto preceding it.

"Thanks," she said, following him and closing the door behind them.

In the house could still count on a cool temperature but would not last for long. The interior was cozy and well-groomed, with walls and furniture literally covered with family photographs. Simon loved her husband and children, and every inch of the house was testimony, which caused a strong movement of sadness in Erika.

"He was so happy," said, to avoid bursting into tears.

"Yeah," said Roberto, without another word.

Turned left and went into the kitchen. Erika followed him in silence. The kitchen was in perfect order and fragrant, as if they had just washed the floor. On the table in the center of the room, covered with a plastic tablecloth, two were supported with a lot of coffee cups and saucer and spoon. Against one wall, next to the window overlooking the front of the house hung a blackboard with a tear-off calendar. On the blackboard there was a message written in chalk:

Clean a little 'salad for dinner. I love you. Hello.

The calendar had been standing in a package of 30 May, the day that Simon was gone. Erika felt a shudder, she wondered if her friend had somehow had a foreboding of what would happen. He had heard of people who, shortly before he died, suddenly made a visit to relatives who may, as a rule, they saw little, as to leave a last farewell. Whatever it was, the slate and the timetable for the breaking of the heart, because they represented the remains of a normality that was lost, a life that had been cut short in a day like any other.

"Please, sit down," said Roberto, taking place in turn. His expression was unreadable: Erika I read anger, feeling that he imagined he had provoked in him anticipandogli that his wife had shared her secret of which he was not aware, but could also be sadness and resignation.

"Thank you," Erika agreed, sitting down. "If ... wants to give me of you, me ... "

"Well," agreed Bob.

Her hands were folded on the table before him and was visibly nervous. He sighed and seemed to have recovered after a minimum of calm and rationality.

"Well, Erika, I'm still not entirely sure why I have called you here," he began, without looking into his eyes.

"I do not want you to think ..." she tried to intervene.

Robert stopped her raising a hand. "I do not think nothing, for now. Our relationship started badly, with the phone call that I've done and ... "

"I'm sorry, I was excited and scared and ..."

"... And got worse after the letter, but ... see if there is one, only one, small, remote possibility that the death of Simon was not casual or someone who is involved, even indirectly, I ... I must know or will never have peace. "

Erika held a moment of silence, then said: "As I was saying ... I told you ... When I phoned I was shaken out of me, because I and Simona have always been like sisters. "

"I know, you tell me and I got to test it in part, although I do not understand why Simona I do not ever mentioned."

"Maybe ... probably because I shared with her a period of his life that has deeply marked, and has for years tried to forget. "

Robert looked up. "Is that what you tell me?"

"Yes," said Erika.

"And what is it?" Tried to cut him short.

"It is ... is not so easy and if I'm honest ... I do not know whether it really matters, and whether in connection with what has happened to Simon, but ... "

"If it is not important, because you've done everything we see ourselves?"

"For the same reason you just said so. I want to be certain that the disappearance of Simona was caused by a tragic fate and not by another. "

"So ribadisci someone who might be involved?"

"I do not say this, I hope not, indeed. But .. "

"But?" Urged the Roberto.

"I ... first I want to know what convinced you to call me, the end, "said Erika, on the verge of tears.

"Look, do not have much time, it's useless ..."

"It is useless!" Erika denied this, warming only for a moment, before Lower the head and voice. "Please, I need your help. They have not slept for days and can barely eat, so i doubt torment me. I guess it is the same for her. For you. "

Robert nodded in a gesture of the head.

"I could have a part of history, but you definitely have another one. Please tell me why you called me. Tell me what happened and perhaps we can find the truth together. Provided that it is different from what it seems. "

Robert looked at her seriously. He was still impatient and somewhat unconvinced of the choice he had made in accepting to meet her to talk. From the opening bars, their speech seemed destined to become a useless waste of words, a nostalgic series of unsubstantiated speculation, a collection of if and but that would not change the facts.

"And please," said Erika, "do not be angry with me. I do not want anything but what you want, too: put your heart at rest. Because nothing can bring back to life Simona but if I can, if we can do something to understand what happened ... I'd feel better. I think to have to, for the woman who was with me. "

These words did break the heart of Robert, who tamed. It had nothing to lose, after all, and indeed could vent to someone about the latest developments of which he was aware. Mattia was my grandmother and would be home before lunch, while Cristina had promised not to disturb them.

"Want some coffee?" He asked, before beginning his story.

PART ONE

The incident

Simona dropped his pen on the table and shook his wrist in pain after writing for almost half an hour. He had filled seven pages of notebook paper, while having tried to be as concise as possible, because they tell everything in detail would take hours and she was only half-free morning. He would read the complete story to Christine that night, begging her to get to the bottom before you ask any question: he had decided not to tell it aloud, in order not to stumble in his inevitable objections and lose its focus.

He had written a text message to let you know that as soon as he returned home from work, should have a chat to resolve their dispute. He hoped that the truth, incredible as it was, things did not get worse but could not keep it to themselves. He must try to open the eyes of his daughter, hoping that he would find a way to rebel, to change things, to succeed where all before her had failed. Also we have tried, instead of passively accept fate, as he had done Isa.

Probably would have jeopardized his life but could not stop even before that. For his sake and Cristina. E of all the others.

He closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer of his bedside table, under the linen, not wanting her husband found it by accident and was sure there would not have ever looked.

She went downstairs and looked for the phone to call Robert.

***

"And this is one of the main cases in which you use Marshall "said Roberto talking to the class.

He believed that more than half the students did not follow the explanation and that the remaining, only a couple they had understood fully. But what could he do? His job was to teach, not force them to listen.

"Questions?" He added, knowing that there would be.

Instead Cantini, from the last bench on the right, was raising his hand to intervene. But two buckets knock on the door of the stopped and captured the attention of the entire class. Roberto took pleasure in seeing the heads of twenty-three boys in front of him turn in the same direction, like sunflowers, and thinking as any event unrelated to class, even the most insignificant, like someone knocking on the door, could be reason for them to a thousand times more interest to the lecture itself.

"Yes?"

The door opened and the janitor peeked. "Excuse me, professor. The look on the phone. His wife, "he announced, pulling the head and once out of sight of children.

"I'm coming," said Roberto. "Wait quietly and have a look at the dialogue," he told the students, once more conscious of speaking to the wind and at the same time curious to know why he had pushed Simon to call him and let him interrupt the lesson.

***

The office smelled of smoke. Robert wondered if the new law forbidding smoking in public places was also observed there or if it was just the fault of the smell that she wanted to leave the walls even after months. Like a lover who did not want the end of a relationship. A look at the overflowing ashtray on the desk of the secretary gave him the answer he sought.

"Please," said the janitor dressed in bullet pointing the phone beside the computer keyboard.

With her other hand she was exploring the nose for something that, judging by the commitment that it would take, would be enormous. Roberto looked away with a sense of disgust and went to the phone.

"Here am I, love," he said, just as behind the janitor had found what he wanted and was prepared to examine it carefully, since no one was watching him.

"Hello, darling! How's it going? "

Simon's voice was bright and cheerful as always. At first Robert was asked if he were reciting, because it seemed impossible that a girl could ever be so happy, so without the slightest shadow of worry in her eyes, like a perpetually cloudless sky. Then he realized that Simon was just so and had loved her more than anything else.

"Well, the usual things" said by a bored tone. "The kids do not listen, does a frightfully hot ..." And in that instant he saw the fan on a locker against the wall. However , he thought. do not treat pain here in the office! "And you?"

From that beginning it seemed that the call had not been dictated by real needs, but rather by the desire to have a chat with Simon. Roberto was certainly not disappointed, either because it could take a time out from the lesson, and because it would be a typical attitude of his wife, one of those things that had made him fall in love: she did what she felt. With some exceptions, of course.

"Yes, all right." There was a pause, as if to close the pleasantries. "Nothing, I tell you that today you do not have to pick Matthias at four."

Roberto had almost forgotten about it - but surely he would remember the last time. "Why? Not something you want? "He asked. At that time the secretary came in and looked at him as if to make sure it was authorized to be there and use the phone. The boys called Robocop for its being so severe and tax. He had a lit cigarette between his fingers.

"No, no, it's fine. It's just that the teacher who had to have a commitment this afternoon and found no alternate, so come out first. So ... "

"So you think you are?"

"Exactly! Step to take it to twenty one and carry it to your mother. "

"Wow," said Roberto. "You mean to say that today I can not even take a ten minute break from the ballots." Those meetings annoyed him terribly and had found some 'comfort in thinking that he could be away to fetch his son to school. "By 'the truth: did you do that on purpose!" He smiled.

"Sure," said Simona playing the game. "I bribed the teacher why he was at home. Because I know that you like so much to be done to the polls ... Apart from jokes, I leave you. Vai also by your boys. "

"Yeah," said Roberto disconsolate. He looked at his watch and saw that it was ten minutes to the sound of the bell. "Although at this point I might even leave them talking until the end of the lesson." The secretary, sitting in front of the computer screen, turned on him with an expression of reproach. Robert pretended not to notice.

"Please yourself," said Simon. "I'll see you tonight. Good job. I love you. "

"Thank you, good job to you too." He paused. "I love you too" he added. He noticed the shadow of a sneer on the lips of the secretary.

Robert hung up and turned around. The janitor was still there watching him. He seemed to have become a bodyguard, he was so serious and composed. The professor wanted to laugh in the face and shout of perhaps less importance because, as the children said, was and remained a sguracessi .

"Thanks," he said instead, while behind him the secretary affogandola out his cigarette in the ashtray full.

He left the office and came to wonder if it was worth back in class when there were just under ten minutes to the bell. Passing by the teachers' room his eye fell on the coffee machine and that was important to him to make the decision. He found thirty cents in my wallet and used them for a coffee. Those were his last moments of relaxation.

***

As soon as he hung up, Simon returned thoughtfully. He had tried not to let his voice as he spoke from trasparisse concern with Roberto. An effort that was not new and had to resort to which all the sad memories of times past, loomed into the mind, as relics of which would never be able to escape. But over the past five days, the situation had deteriorated and, if before its moments were due only to regret for never having told the truth to Robert, you were adding to the fear and frustration at discovering that she was not even aware of everything.

When the Friday before, his mother had brought to the attention of the entire history, the world had fallen on him and was caught by a sense of smallness in the face of a destiny that only the devil could have them reserved. She felt taken in a cage, forced to be a spectator to a nightmare that would hit Cristina, without the possibility of intervening to help. But he could not accept it, on what his mother was right, even before the threat of a cruel end. And so he was immediately thrown to the attack, determined to act with cunning, of psychology, to open the eyes of his daughter. She had not gone at all well, as she expected, and had done nothing but quarrel violently. The last resort was put before the truth, it cost what it cost.

He spent the time that separated it from the school of Mattia preparing a simple tomato sauce for lunch and getting a shower. When he opened the underwear drawer to get clean underpants, was seized by a terrible suspicion. He retrieved his notebook that he had placed just before and opened the pages he had written, there was still everything. For a moment he feared that the words had been erased, as if the story does not accept to be put in writing, but only to be handed down from mother to daughter, in accordance with the "rules" as he calls his mother. There was an absurd idea, not after the experiences he lived.

The bedside clock indicated the 12:32. Simon put aside his thoughts and got dressed quickly, then rushes into the kitchen to turn off the gas. He retrieved the car keys and wrote a short message to Roberto on the slate to the wall:

Clean a little 'salad for dinner. I love you. Hello.

He went into the garage using the door that connected the living room and began to move in haste. A minute later he was in the street, directly in elementary school. But there never came and I never really traveled a few hundred yards before he dies.

Why the "rules" were followed.

***

When Matthew came out of the gate of the school and in the crowd of parents did not notice either the mother or the father, began to worry. When, looking at cars parked on both sides of the road, he saw neither the focus of Robert, nor the stroke of Simon, his concern turned to despair. But when, ten minutes later, he found himself alone, standing still waiting for someone to pick him up, while all the others had gone for a while - even Simon, who was always the late comer in the morning and arrived five minutes later and his mother had said it was not a good habit, because the good people was also seen by the punctuality - the despair became a terror. And he began to cry silently.

It had never happened before, that's all. From the first day in first grade my mother or father had come for him and were always the first people who found out just outside the gate. It had been his mother to reassure him that first day, when he did not want to stay there with those new ones with children and older who wanted to teach him things, telling him he needed to become good at it and it was just a few hours and that eventually she or dad would be there are more than ready to take him home in the midst of mountains of games.

From that day Matthew was up nearly two years and had learned so many beautiful things and above all to read. It was not so reluctant when it was time to wake up to go back to school, because the "new kids" were his best friends ("You're my best friend's heart," he said one day to Raphael, because he had linked with more than all the others) and "old" had proved extremely nice and friendly, like many grandmothers ... with the difference that they lived on the letters and numbers instead of pasta with tomato sauce, juicy steaks and creamy cakes.

When he approached the end of the morning, however, there was no argument of class or chatting with the classmate, who obviously was Raphael, who distracted by the thought that soon no one would find a lot of her parents, came as of a fairy tales to bring him home. And the expectation was always rewarded, so that now the fact of finding Roberto Simona or at the gate of the school was a steadfast certainty, how to find the moon and the stars in the night sky every time you look up.

That day, however, things had gone differently, and ten minutes later were enough to give birth in Matthew a sense of betrayal. His mother had promised and not kept their word. Mom and Dad had forgotten about him. And it would have had to pass before finally they remembered? How long he would have to sit there and wait? Certainly could not set out alone, his mother had been clear on that point. There was too much danger in the street and should not dare to cross without her.

"Matthias? How is it still here? "The voice came from the driveway leading from the entrance gate of the school and was very familiar.

Matthias, still crying, he turned and found the teacher Anna stops next to him with a bag over his shoulder and a pile of papers under his arm. She was a woman of about forty, very pretty face and open and reassuring.

"Non .. There are still coming, "said the sobbing child. "They left me here." And she burst into tears true.

"No, Matthias! What do you say? "The teacher put the sheets on the wall that surrounded the courtyard of the school taken Mattia and his arms, holding him close. "They must have had a mishap. We called all of your mothers as a warning that came out of today we have heard before and even your mom, so now you'll see that coming. "It seemed that the baby calmed down slightly, but she was not sure.

Then he remembered the first day he saw Simon. "If a day were to happen that we do not take" had told her shortly before she left the interview "And may God avert it, because otherwise Matthias gives head down!" They both laughed. "However, if by chance we have a mishap and neither my husband nor I are able to come, not that she or some of her colleagues could accompany him to his grandmother?" Anna had consented willingly and Simon had explained how to get to the home of Gisella.

"Look," Mattia suggested that continued to cry, but it was obvious comfort from his embrace, "now that I think about it, your mom told me she could not come because he had much to do and asked me to accompany you to your grandmother. He lives near here, is not it? "The child had really calmed down and Anna felt less guilty about the lie she had just said. Even if it was just a lie, not quite.

"Yes," said Matthias with his shrill little voice, broken by sobs that were dying. "He lives on that street there," explained, pointing to a road that crossed the one upon which overlooked the school.

"Oh, but then it's very close," said Anna. "We could get a jump!"

"No," said Matthew, with a seriousness that he brought the teacher a great desire to laugh and pick him up and fill it with kisses. How much would have liked to have a child! "With a leap not. But if you help me cross the street I can walk alone. "

"Of course I'll help! But first I want those tears disappear, right? I do not really like, no no! "

Matthias took the handkerchief from his right pocket of his shorts and wiped his eyes with rubbing strength. Then he pulled up the nose and swallowed what he had collected, which, you were a child of seven years, he infuriated Anna. "Here," he announced finally Mattia, completely oblivious of fear that had taken him when he thought that his parents had betrayed him and had decided to leave it to wait forever.

"Very well, let's go. And you know what? We'll not only help to cross, but I'll take you right up to grandma's house! "He gathered up his papers and walked, hand in hand with the child.

***

Gisella poured the pasta into the pot when Matthias was missing a quarter of an hour at one o'clock. They've been there, he and Simon, but did not see them even get out of the window. Patience. They would eat the pasta salad. He would also heated them but did not like to Mattia. He would take patience, too.

He sat at the table and began to nibble on a slice of bread. She was not the pasta, not that hot. She would have needed was a slice of watermelon and then a nice cafe. In the meantime turned on the television and tried some interesting program. He found a soap on Channel 5 and will be lost. The first slice of bread, two more followed and would continue at that pace, without even realizing it, if just before one had not rung the bell. "Finally," she thought as she stood up to answer it.

"Come, come," said the intercom by pressing the button that opened the gate outside.

"Grandma" called the voice of Matthias riponesse other side before the receiver. "I came with the teacher."

"With the teacher?" Said Gisela, still have no idea how many other questions that would follow.

"Yes, come on out. He said that should tell you something. "

Matthias seemed elated and Gisella thought for a moment that he was playing a joke. There was nothing funny, but you never know what strange ideas revolved for a baby's head.

"Hello, ma'am. I'm sorry to bother you, but I should tell you something. "

The voice of the teacher Gisella Anna convinced of the good faith of Matthias, but on the other hand, turned on the first alarm light. Where was Simon? He should be or ought to have her with Mattia advise if his plans had changed. But ...

Gisella put the handset of the intercom and opened the door. Mattia ran towards the gate and greeted her with her crystalline voice. She stroked his hair blond and laid a kiss on the forehead but was constantly distracted and turned his eyes on the woman standing in front of his house.

"Vai, vai to eat that would otherwise cool," said the nephew.

Not that the temperature of the dough was the center of his thoughts at that moment was now focused on other issues. He had a sort of presentiment that, contrary to what Simon would say, and Robert, his opinion was more than justified. When something was strange, deep down there was a tragedy. Size larger or smaller, but still a tragedy.

"Hello," he greeted the teacher. She wore a skirt that reached to his knees and a white blouse with short sleeves, but he was sweating profusely. Gisella did not read in his eyes but no alarm was not to be misled. "I beg your pardon again for your time and ..."

"Where is my daughter?" Interrupted the old lady with no regard. Did not interest all those bales of "excuse me" and "forgive me". He wanted to know.

Anna seemed lost for a moment, struck by this attitude rude. But that cute little grandmother! thought. Then he wondered if it was not the fault of concern for Simona and it seemed a possibility, but not the only one. That woman was clearly grumpy.

"I came for," he said. "I thought he said something but apparently not so. However, not coming to take Mattia and I found him crying in front of schools and ... Well, I thought I'd take it from her. "He spoke as if he feared that any moment Gisella would begin to cry out to scold her for something. He was clearly relieved when she had done without that happening. It had never happened to feel so in awe.

Gisella was a moment to reflect, eyeing the teacher. "No, he did not say anything," he confirmed. "Something happened," he added.

"But no, maybe ..." began Anna but could not continue.

"But yes," Gisella stopped her. He was visibly shaken, but the teacher, as was increasing the aversion felt for this woman, he could not say with certainty whether it was more out of concern for the daughter or the news for the trouble he had caused. "Thanks for bringing me Mattia. Now I try to call my son. "

Anna could not help but notice the grammatical error, but it was not appropriate to make the fussy. Indeed, judging from the words of Gisella had come for her time to remove the trouble.

"Okay, then I'm going. Good lunch and ... " And that will solve everything for the better he wanted to add, but again chose to stay. He turned and walked back to the elementary schools. Beautiful gratitude, he said. I had even brought home a stray dog with rabies!

Meanwhile Gisella had already forgotten her. He returned home, while the bastard worm of doubt, that she was already a well-founded confidence, the penetrated deeper and deeper into the mind. Simon thought that he had an accident. It was the most logical solution: he saw that expression always absent, as if he had his head somewhere else. In those last days, then, it seemed that his brain had moved at all. A few hours earlier, at his home, had seen that same expression on the person too busy to listen to those who had something else before. Likely to be playing on a tangent as he drove off the road and was over.

She reached the phone in the living room and took the little book beside it. Looked up the number of high school Torvinaia, written under Roberto Work write-rounded Simona, and called. A woman answered the deep voice as big as a trucker and put on hold while they went to look for her son. He spent a few moments where Gisella heard nothing - but if his hearing had been to a time would perceive the sound of the keys to beating the secretary wrote to the computer - and then he heard the voice of Robert.

"Hello?"

"Roberto? It's me. Simona's not going to take Matthias. Vai and see if you find her? "Do not betray any emotion in his voice. He gave the news as if he had said I broke the washing machine. Call the technician .

"What?" Said Roberto, who had understood but that because of the tone of the voice of his mother did not know whether to believe her or not. "Have you tried to call home?"

Gisella realized only then that this was the first solution to try. It was too much to think about some of his premonition. In any case, all she could do: he had prepared a meal for Matthias and accepted him, so she was asked. That would take some responsibility too Robert! "No, because I think what has happened ..." This time it was her turn could not finish the sentence.

"But you should not talk! What do you think happened? "Roberto, who will spend years and Simon had received some optimism, could not accept the conjecture of perennially bad mother. It was not the first time I called him in the middle of one of his lectures sure that Matthias had been kidnapped or that their house had been overrun by thieves, when in reality it was just a plug in the phone disconnected. "Never mind, now I come home and watch me. Maybe it's asleep. "But even a child would understand that even he believed that hypothesis.

"Whatever" said Gisella and hung up without saying goodbye. Meanwhile in the kitchen Matthias was finishing his plate of pasta, peaceful and safe again that her parents would not never ever abandoned.

***

Roberto hung still quiet but well aware that at any moment the situation could escalate. Simona had learned to always see the bright side of things, to consider the glass half full. "The misfortunes happen relatively rarely," he said. "The news I hear twenty a day, it is true, but the news about all of Italy, if not worldwide. What are a few rare cases of sixty million people? And then, "he added," if you have to live with the fear that you can always happen something bad - you or your - then you might as well not get out the house anymore. But is' watch out, because someday the house could crollarti him! "

Roberto had laughed and had assimilated the concept and, over time, he had done his and tried to pass it on to his children, though perhaps for Matthias was still work to do. It was found that life was better, much better.

Now he was, perhaps for the first time, to have to force you to remember the words of Simon. Yeah, because before that day had never actually had to deal with a real possibility as well: his wife had to go to school, but there was not only gone, but had not informed nor her mother, neither he nor his son, especially . And who knows how long it had been badly Matthias!

He took his wallet from his hip pocket and rummaged among the many papers in search of the package he needed. Roberto had never loved the phones, let alone those they called the "last generation" and that seemed made for everything except make calls. He had never even tried to figure out how to use one, stating firmly that as he had needed for forty years, it might well have done without for the rest of his days. Simon was not that alert - let alone Cristina, but she was nineteen years old - and had bought a Nokia latest model with a giant screen and more features than she could ever have and use. "I want to see if someday you're not forced to call on the phone and then you realize that it is useful," he had said when he had expressed his doubts about that purchase and immediately after he took a picture of a sharp awesome.

Roberto finally found the crumpled paper and in poor condition between two slips of months and months ago. On it he had written the ten digit telephone number by Simona. The secretary gave him another look that seemed to him that his criticism for spending all that time on the phone. If she only knew the headmaster! said those stern eyes. And you will know very soon! seemed to imply. Then she turned away and lit another cigarette.

Roberto took up the phone and dialed the number. Oh, but luckily you were sure she was asleep! heard his mother say almost, or perhaps it was the previous Roberto, what you do not understand how much better life was positive thinking. So safe that instead try to call home right on your mobile. By the way, she was right: you have to admit that the phone is very useful .

And I willingly admit Roberto thought the more optimistic as he felt the first ring. And also I will get on their knees to apologize if anything happened to her ... and certainly is not. Almost certainly have called the first job and she has not had time to warn us. Or you have forgotten, moreover, is sometimes so careless .

So careless, huh? So why has not gone before today the day when she has not made well in advance in front of schools to bring home Matthew? Especially because the phone keeps ringing and you do not respond? She who is never separated from the phone? In fact they were now about thirty seconds Roberto felt the tuuu extended into the phone without success.

Well, you may have forgotten at home. Indeed, it all comes back: they call to work in a hurry and she ran without telling anyone. If I remember correctly had advised the teacher to bring Matthias from her grandmother if we had not picked him up . That's all. He let the phone ring for another minute, yet perfectly calm. Had kept the doubt and anxiety that it carried with it as an inconvenient baggage is impossessassero him. He saw the glass as half full and had found a plausible explanation for the apparent disappearance of Simon.

He hung up. The secretary turned back, more and more annoyed. "Any problems?" He asked, trying to show how little she cared about the answer. He pulled on his cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke that covered her fat face and severe.

"No, no. But I must go home ten minutes, my wife has forgotten something important. Would you advise the president, if he comes, that in any case I'll be back for ... "He looked at his watch and saw that it was past one o'clock. "For one twenty at the most?" He accompanied the request with the kindest eyes that did it, but did not think that a woman like that secretary could be an attempt to soften like that. It would take more than that. A fair share of beatings, maybe, but probably would not have been enough.

"Certainly," she said with a fake smile like a crucifix hung in a mosque. He breathed in another puff of smoke. "I feel myself, in the case, but usually does not pass the first two and a half in the afternoon. She still does not put us too, because he knows he does not like when people are away for too long without good reason. "And those last words, uttered with a mocking tone that clearly implied: And you said you do not have any serious problem, true?

"Do not worry," assured Robert, longing to jump on them and beat her up to get rid of that smile from his lips.

"Very well," said the secretary, and returned to his computer work. Roberto moved back into the teachers' room to retrieve the car keys at the same moment he entered the office Mannini teacher, a colleague who taught art history. He did not notice but no one had time to stop and chat: store the secretary had bad thoughts about other issues on his mind. He retrieved his bag from a chair in the staff room and went to the rooms leading to the garage at the school.

***

The journey from high school in his home should not measure more than three or four miles and five minutes later he was stopped at the traffic light in front of the house. Before going home he wanted to go to grade schools, to travel the same path Simona: if something had really happened, it would have been stopped at the roadside, perhaps even intent to complete an accident report for an accident.

The lights went to green and the Focus went screeching tires. Proceeded straight to the next traffic light, turned left and continued on that road up to the schools. The center of the village was deserted, as it was logical at that time where everyone was having lunch. The air was still and the heat was unbearable, especially in the cabin of the Ford, if Bob had not set up on the air conditioning.

He maneuver and returned by the same route, but instead of arriving at the traffic light turned right, just past the cemetery. He was an alternate route, but even here he found the stroke of Simona and even if the first had feared the onset of any doubt, he found that there had been no accident. All right you said. You work as I had thought .

Much more relaxed, drove to the intersection in front of the supermarket. She turned right and then immediately left. Even the road was completely deserted and made quite an impression. How to want to deny, Torvinaia appeared from the direction of a big red truck. Robert stopped the car in front of the same gate through which Simon had gone out earlier. Needless to come, because in a few minutes he had to go back to high school.

Alighted from the car as the truck passed him, and a blast of hot air ruffled his hair and he evoked the image of the fan on the cabinet secretary to school. The immediate and uncontrolled association of ideas made him smile and smile reassured him even more. He opened the gate and walked up the driveway directly to the front door.

He stopped watching half way to the garage. Merely for the sake of the two buttons pressed on a small remote control that had attached to your keychain, and opens the garage door. The garage was empty except for bikes and shelves crammed with junk and unusable, but of which he and Simon were an incredible effort to separate. The Opel Simona there was and there was a big surprise. All expected. Everything is normal.

Roberto came to the door, opened it and entered the house. He looked just the little silver clock on the stand at his right and saw that it was almost one and a quarter. It would not be able to deliver on time as he had assured the secretary, but who cared? Indeed, it was a little revenge, a way to show her that did not make him neither hot nor cold that its done by Robocop , as the children said. And that, as he was concerned, he could go there and make friends with anyone like her.

He placed the bunch of keys next to the clock, behind which there were three photographs: Matthias innamoratissimi Cristina and their parents. All of a few years younger. Higher up on the wall, a large framed photograph that he and Simon had done years before the sea. Every time I looked, Roberto felt the roar of the waves behind them, and the salty smell of the air, saw the clear sky above them, felt the love that bound him to his wife in the form of heat that is transferred from one another through the skin. Even at that moment was in a hurry - you know, rather than go back to school - not deprived of that small, sweet blast from the past.

He then went into the kitchen. The order always impeccably reigned was broken only by the small yellow apron resting on the worktop. Roberto saw the message written on the blackboard and made a mental note. She would soon be forgotten. He shifted his eyes around in search of the cordless phone, and after endless moments of frustraione, found him one of the chairs. She picked it up and looked through the numbers in the phonebook saved in the SIMO WORK. Without further ado, let fly the call and prepared to put an end to the little mystery to this day.

"Hello?"

Roberto had expected a "Ready, brushes Italbrush", which was the standard response that addressed the company's customers, but Simon was not so much to dampen much of its security: the voice was that of a man, so Simon was not to work. Have you seen your optimism about what is served? Throw it in the toilet, believe me! scolded his old self, which had remained hidden until then. No! opposed Roberto. No, perhaps not yet arrived. Maybe ...

"Hello? Who is this? "The voice at the end was clearly annoyed and Robert wondered if it was the receptionist who worked in the morning instead of Simona. In that case, could not entice some customers to contact company.

"Um, hello," he began, not knowing quite what to say. He had expected a different type of call, more like that than an hour and a half before he had had with Simon. "I am the husband of Simona, your receptionist ... what works in the afternoon ... "Strange as the definition: one who works in the afternoon. Diminutive, almost offensively, if addressed to Simon. Because she was more. Much, much more.

"Yes, I know. But I have not seen today. It starts at fourteen, I think. Work ... "

"Yes, he works part-time and usually starts at fourteen, but I found the house and thought maybe you had asked to appear there faster." Suddenly this hypothesis, the same that had hitherto supported the moral Roberto as the stick for the blind about to fall at any moment, the child appeared very fragile. How could you think of something so trivial? He might as well believe that the aliens had taken and had asked for a guided tour of the Earth.

"No, sorry. No change in plans. "He paused for a moment and cleared his throat. "I guess that probably will not come to work today?" Roberto hated him with all my heart, even more than he hated the secretary of the school. That was his problem: work. He was looking for his wife, research - whatever they say its more "simonesco", which put to the test proved quite weak - seemed to grow more desperate every minute that passed, and that labor was concerned. Possible that that day should have to deal only with people who have no feelings?

"I do not know, to tell the truth." And he was telling the truth even to himself. Perhaps only to himself. "Maybe he is coming now, maybe it will come with a little 'delay ... but I can assure you nothing. Excuse me the trouble, goodbye. "

"Imagine," replied the other, but the tone of voice was saying something else. He said Apology accepted, but not to see again! And hung up.

Roberto did the same and sat down heavily on the nearest chair. He looked straight ahead, but without seeing anything in particular. He stared at the blank as he thought but his thoughts did not have a specific object. It was used mostly to cover up a feeling that lurked below and that he could not control: the spread of an emotion that was neither simply anxiety, or simply afraid. It was more like resignation and this meant that he was not afraid that something had happened to Simon, but that he knew and was already forced to accept it.

"Simo?" Cried without knowing who was doing the house empty. "Simon, darling? Are you upstairs? "Only after a few seconds of silence he remembered the garage and realized the stupidity of his actions. Possible that a small part of him he still thought that Simon was sleeping? His wife was able to convey his positive thinking so deeply? If it was, now what was his last attempt to emerge. Roberto was in despair.

Simon was not there.

His car was not there.

Was he ran away from home? And why should he? What problems did they have? They loved each other like the first day, had a relationship with their children even better. Their family situation was perfect: not without difficult moments, but mostly filled by the harmony. Economic difficulties, if anything, Simona was secretly linked to the material aspect of their relationship, something that Robert felt that he could rule, had never existed. And then what?

Roberto picked up the phone and tried the phone number in memory of Simon. The rings were again unanswered, but at least he found that Simon had brought the phone: he had heard the alarm coming from the living room or their bedroom or anywhere else in the house. That, he thought only briefly, it was nothing to be happy.

He closed the call and sighed. He had to collect his thoughts, if you do not want to lose precious time. Yet there was growing agitation that made her want to start running in all directions and shouting the name of his wife until she finally found someone, or had not stopped and taken to the nearest psychiatrist. On the one hand wished to despair for not letting them overwhelm the other felt that they should regain full control of himself to seek a solution.

He thought to call the police, but gave up quickly. It was still too early. There was a minimum time, if not wrong, in order to declare a missing person, and certainly had not yet elapsed. Above all, it was not entirely certain that Simon was indeed gone, however, different explanations did not come to mind. But how to explain to the police? No, it was still appropriate to call them.

He put down the phone and moved briskly into the living room. Even there, everything was in perfect order: the sofa and two chairs on the large white rug with a central glass table, where another photo of Roberto and Simona remembered the early years of their eternal love, the floors spotless, the kitten, Cloud, sleeping in the empty fireplace hearth, the "table for the big events," as he called Simon, which dined on Sundays or when they had guests. The cat lazily raised his head and looked for a second Roberto with his eyes half closed, then returned to his curled up position.

Roberto turned and went to the stairs. She felt she could not stay still for too long if he did not want to succumb to his own state of mind. Continuously collect new information through the eyes turned away his thoughts from that central core that was growing in the center of his mind: Simona was sick. Something bad had happened. Simon had it not done.

He threw a glance in his bedroom but there was nothing out of place. He did not even notice the top drawer of her nightstand, slightly ajar. He found nothing even in the rooms and Christina Matthias and even went to the bathroom.

"Where are you, Simon?" He whispered, as if to ask himself. Or maybe he hoped that somehow she heard those words, could travel almost blown by the wind blowing from one side of love. "Where are you?"

He got no answer and went back down the stairs, headed to the car.

***

It was one thirty-five. The traffic on the highway was increased. In addition to trucks, cars were circulating of who started with a bit early to be at work at two. Cars traveling in both directions under the scorching sun, maybe a bit 'too hot for the end of May. Had not yet arrived in the summer and already the thermometer marked thirty-two degrees. Could you repeat like a heat wave of 2003?

Thoughts like that did not touch more when Roberto left the gate of his house. The came the overpowering smell of a truck carrying pigs and that was parked at the traffic lights, but almost no one noticed. His senses were blunted as fuel consumed by a fire of ever larger size. It led to the Focus, realizing then that was dropped when he left the door open. May unconsciously was already so worried about not close it?

He entered the passenger compartment where the air was hot and stifling and felt - but as something far away, almost like the body of another - a droplet of sweat slid down my spine. Comedy, if he thought inside was cold.

He was about to close the door when the sound of a horn behind him awoke as from a dream. He returned briefly to reality, he returned a man of integrity and not only did the fatal thoughts. Behind him, two cars behind the truck carrying pigs, a man of about fifty, almost certainly the same who had played the horn, he was cursing and waving their hands in the air before him. Then beat against each other and finally even the horn of his Mercedes that made that annoying noise.

Robert shifted his gaze back to the Mercedes and saw that the queue of vehicles was being stretched. The horn man enraged others were added. He looked at the other side, towards the light, and saw the green. But the truck did not move.

He got out. Took shape in his mind a terrible possibility. He completed a few steps toward the light and saw that the truck stopped in front of other cars there. Four or five. The last two were parked on the roadside, near the ditch that ran along for about fifty meters, but also occupied part of the road, giving rise to delays and the queue of cars ... well as the anger of man in the Mercedes.

He quickened his pace. Then he ran. Before him, just beyond the road that skirted the side of their house, the one that went to the little village of Cadiceto and is crossed by the highway, next to two parked cars were two women and a man. The latter, a young man with blond hair that Bob had never seen, was standing at the edge of the ditch and looked down, shaking his head. The two women, even those unknown, whispering little behind. One of them seemed shocked. The cars passed slowly on the narrow roadway and drivers threw curious glances toward the point of the accident.

But Robert had not seen anything yet. But he already knew everything there was to know. Three more strides racing - the sweat on your back and the rest of the body down copious - and saw the marks on the asphalt blacks. Later she would wonder how could she not notice them when he was past and he would reply that it was so firmly convinced that Simon was okay that he would not have moved even a poster with the funeral of his wife's name printed in big letters. And, when you would have thought, that poster would really existed.

He crossed the road and finally came to the man next to him looking into the ditch. He followed her gaze and felt the tears welling up even before his brain had recorded every detail of the scene that his eyes had been sent.

"No, sir, he wound up ..." the young man was beginning, going toward him as if to stop him, but his voice sounded just the echo of words spoken thousands of years before light years away from there.

And in any case Roberto did not intend to continue it was more than enough what we already saw, without the need to feel or touch.

Before him, in a ditch full of weeds, and vacuum dried by drought, lay what was left of the Opel Corsa Simona. He must have swerved sharply to the right - and was later confirmed through analysis of burnt rubber on the asphalt - and lost control. The front of the car no longer existed, curled in on itself as one of the many candy wrappers that were in the bottom of that ditch. The windshield was a dense network of cracks that reflected the rays of the sun, high in the sky. Only in a glass was smashed and the relatively small hole in his head sticking out of Simona.

It was mostly covered with long brown hair, dirty and sticky with blood smeared them, but not enough to hide half of the battered face: the right cheek, which was still smooth and soft as that of a twenty year old, despite past forty, was covered by a monstrous network of deep scratches and bleeding, which was replicated in small cracks on the windshield. Just above the cheekbone could be seen small whitish points that had to be the remnant of the eye, whose orbit was occupied by a sharp piece of glass. Came from the lips parted, abandoned like a dog relaxes in the sun, and maybe part of that particular language would be the most terrible, that he would return more often in horrific nightmares Roberto: the corpse of his wife there, with his tongue dangling like when he pretended, and only pretended, to be dead.

"Did you know?" Suddenly asked the young man, who had brought with him. He remained silent for a moment, observing the despair and the tears of Robert. Then he asked this question of which you probably already guessed the answer.

Once again the voice seemed far away to Bob, but this time as one that reminds us of a dream from which we do not want break away. There seems to be able to stay if we work hard, if we pretend not to hear that call, but eventually the dream is gone, and we have our eyes open. What the professor was not a wonderful dream, but the worst of nightmares, so easily gave up and looked away. The tears, however, did not cease.

"Simona" he managed to say before bursting into a fit of sobs.

The young man waited patiently. In the meantime, had also approached the two women, to which was added a man of forty who had parked his car next to the two already parked. The truck with the pigs had already passed away and other carloads of curious people. An elderly lady Cadiceto, Roberto and Simona knew only by sight, went next door to the street on his bike, weighed down by a bulky shopping bag, and let out a "Holy God!" before stopping to browse in turn. There was nothing to fill all the summer nights with her friends to talk. In the distance continued to play the horns of those who still could not see the scene.

But for Robert it was a different world. He recovered from crying and continued: "It was ... It was my wife. "Then the tears started again more abundant than before and he was forced to bring their fists in his eyes. Then even that was enough and fell forward, face down, to pour out his grief on the dry grass.

"I'm sorry," said one woman, one that from a distance had seemed in shock. It was so. "I was passing here ten minutes ago and I saw these signs blacks on the ground. There I saw them this morning going to work and even when I came back for lunch, so I hit. I glanced toward the ditch and ... "He shook his head as if he could not put into words what going on in my head. "It was a tremendous show and tell her that I can understand if you ..." But, after the blue words "terrible spectacle", Roberto had burst into tears even more desperate.

The young woman stopped raising an open hand towards her. He gave her a dirty look. Stop admonished those eyes. I see very well saying that his wife was reduced to a heap of mangled flesh, without notice and make him remember him! "We have already called the ambulance and police," but informed aloud. "They will arrive soon."

Police , he thought Roberto between sobs. This was the case to call them. Yes, definitely.

***

When, with greater clarity, Roberto would have tried to remember the events that followed, it would not be able to catalog them in chronological order, or to link them with a thread of some logical consequentiality. Thinking about those times would be like turning the pages of an album of photographs taken in the same vacation: oh yes, here we were at the beach, but here in front of the hotel, oh my God, this is me dressed as a Hawaiian!

The only division that would have been able to make was between what had happened immediately after the tragic discovery and what was in the days following. First, an endless succession of events in the space of a few hours, then dropping a few phone calls that came down to talk with Matthew and some sad or Cristina or with a few other people had asked him questions and trying to console him.

And the rhythm became more bland, more Roberto felt approaching a monster awful and unimaginable until a few days before. A monster who never believed he could reach him, who had lived just trying to keep him away. A monster, however, was forced to discover, it was kept at a distance far from excessive, - free - was avventando on his new victim as a dark shadow of pain and death.

It was the monster of loneliness.

***

He remembered having heard the first sirens that overlooked the horns of impatient motorists just minutes after the words of the young man who said he had called emergency but, in the state that was the time revealed itself in all its relativity and for all I knew could be two hours well spent. Lying on the floor with his face pressed against the hands and sunk in the dry grass, he heard someone, a woman, say they are! and someone else, a man, Let the space and many other voices commenting on the scene with unnecessary expletives, or invocations to God and all the Saints.

Remembered thinking why, why, Lord? Because to us? Perhaps we were proud to think that a family or almost perfect? No, I do not think! I do not think, sir, that you did die soon also the father of Simona and even my father, who was not at all proud, and I gave everything he could, all he had earned in a lifetime of work. I think you've been envious of his generosity and why did you die with that lung cancer, even though he had never even picked up a cigarette. And now I think Simona is taken for the same reason. She was too beautiful, beautiful inside, leave it here for another few years, right? You are too powerful to miss their prey so delicious. Why leave it to me, for that matter? A miserable professor who loved her as his own life, if not more. They are too little, right? They are nothing too! And is that why you're killing me, too?

He remembered the sirens, so close it hurt the ears, and a voice shouted: "Stand back, please. Move away and let us work. And you, please, resume the march, cleared the roadway. " He had a very pronounced southern accent, but in that time Roberto did not understand what the region was more than had ever been able to comprehend the infinity of the universe. Neither wanted. Another man, surely another of policemen arrived on the scene, collected the first evidence of the woman who had found Simon. "Then she tells me she did not see the incident but found the car later?" Asked, this time without any inflection in his voice.

"Yes. I arrived and saw those signs and ... "she answered.

"Well, well, the rest I understand. I just wanted to know if she witnessed the accident "he interrupted her.

"Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please! ", The policeman began again with the southern accent, probably the one responsible for restoring the normal flow of traffic. "Get away, there's nothing to see. Vacate, please! Evacuate! "

He remembered robust arms around him from behind and finally rialzavano ground. He was not trying to help his rescuer, but he was dead weight, all the muscles relaxed, his head bent forward and eyes closed. The tears continued to flow incessantly and rolled down her cheeks, scratched at some points from branches that were in the grass.

"Please, sir, I can not do. We're trying to help, "said the man behind him. He opened his eyes for a moment and saw two hands clasped on his chest that flowed from two fluorescent orange sleeves, then closed them again. He felt a bit like a child 'cresciutello the arms of his mother but not the idea aroused no laughter. You've got the ambulance? thought. I had not noticed. I have not heard the sirens and ... Yes you did hear that, because ...

He remembered the policeman who abandoned her Southern courtesy made to please and please and started to cry addressed to some motorists.

"Holy Mary, but we want to avoid! Let the ambulance pass and go! Next! NEXT. "

And the ambulance sirens were also close enough to split the eardrums, but all of a sudden were extinguished. He felt one or two doors that opened, other men shouting Leave space! Leave space!

"I do not think there is much left to do," the officer announced in no uncertain terms no inflection in his voice. "We called the fire department to remove the body. Take care of that man ... of her husband. "

He recalled two other arms that took him for help the first responder. Ambulance took him to sit inside but he thought he wanted to stuff it with drugs to calm and lull it to sleep and Simona seppellirgli before he could see her one last time.

"No, let me! Let me, "cried loudly, her voice broken by tears and struggling like a madman while putting a strain on the great strength of the men who supported it. Opened for a moment more red eyes and saw about fifty people, that his eyes appeared watery as the double, clustered around the point where he had crashed the car Simona. Someone looked intrigued, others shook their heads commenting on each other, others were expelled from southern policeman - or at least thought it was that. Before him was the self-Medical with its blue light flashing silent. Just beyond, the police car. And a lot fewer cars on the road than before. What time is it? wondered. How much time has passed?

Be remembered lying on a stretcher inside the ambulance, with tears that slid toward the ears, mixed with sweat. 's thought. At this serves to be optimistic! The greatest suffering is manifested when the reality for what it is. If I had believed from the beginning to the words of my mother, to those he was saying before I stop going, I might have already been prepared. Okay, I would never be completely ready for such a discovery, but it was not even a complete surprise.

He recalled that the needle penetrated the vein of the arm. He felt the slight sting and resume to squirm, trying out a sense of shame and helplessness for having been fooled by the rescuers: the were asleep as he had feared and never ever would see Simon. At least not consciously. But he could not make any movement: the bastards had tied up like a sausage. He cried, turning all his despair in one direction and a new monstrous, uncontrollable crying. But his cry was not done yet that was already dominated by other sirens, the fire brigade who came to liberate the remnants of the body of Simon. And Roberto, feeling the first symptoms of drowsiness that the medication induced, opened his eyes just in time to see the two men in uniform fluorescent orange carrying out an iron chest. The new bed Simona thought, without really wanting do.

Then he slept.

***

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a white ceiling, which was a bit 'too high to be his bedroom. It took a few moments because the idea that that would be to dissolve, giving way to remember and subsequent understanding. He lowered his eyes again, feeling swollen eyes, and forced herself not to take into tears. He found the effort too as he had thought and thought they could have helped other sedatives that were administered during sleep.

Was in the hospital. They had brought him there because he was in shock and had to keep it under control before it decides to commit suicide or drowning in her own tears or lose the reason.

Simon was dead.

Died in a cruel way.

That was the truth, not the dream he had while he slept, where he and she went dancing in a club that had never been, while hundreds of people around them applauded. That was a dream. The reality was a nightmare.

He opened his eyes. He tried to move and found that we could seamlessly. He sat on the bed and looked around. He was in a small room that was probably reserved for people like him or those who had sudden worsening after bad news on the conditions of a family: that there were only bed and a wardrobe with sliding doors of iron, the kind that even in high school were present in each class. The room was so small that you felt lack of oxygen, as if the walls were about to squeeze more and more, up to choke him.

The bed was one of those that were used for medical visits, covered with gray-blue skin and a layer of paper, to cover the surface hygienically. Roberto looked at the clothes and found green grass stains on jeans at the knees. He also noticed the tiny red hole in the crook of his left arm, where he had inserted the first needle puncture. He had only a vague memory of that moment: she was crying as he had never done in life and he felt that he would never stop, and they were tears of sorrow, but also of anger. Of those sentiments remained very little, as the halo of an annoying stain on a white shirt. Also in the sedatives had to have played a key role. And it was not bad after all: why reject a moment of tranquility when the day is coming prospettavano as the worst possible in the life of a man?

He put a hand to his forehead, rubbed his temples and felt terribly tired. Perhaps it was because he had just woken up, perhaps the reaction of his body to great pain was fatigue worthy of an entire marathon. He moved his hand through his hair and smoothed them, finding them dirty and sweaty. It was worse than a small rag, it smelled as if not washed for days and especially did not care a damn. Had it been for him would stop brushing for eternity, if only he had been told that Simon was still alive. Nothing could come close in importance to her. And she was gone.

He looked at his watch and saw that it was missing a quarter to four. Two hours thought. Two hours ago I left home with very little hope. Two hours ago I saw the man in the Mercedes who swore the world. and two hours earlier he had watched the show the most gruesome of its existence. He thought the secretary of the school and what he should have thought of seeing him back nor after fifteen minutes or an hour or two after. Not to mention the other professors who were waiting for the polls. Who knows how many bad words had turned!

"'Fuck!' Cried at the thought, feeling his mouth and tongue kneaded asleep.

"Oh, you are awakened," said a young woman's voice from the corridor on which faced the door of the room. Roberto was the sound of a chair that was moved and thought what a strange effect would have had his expletive sull'infermiera who was awaiting his awakening. He was almost inclined to laugh. Almost.

The nurse entered the room with a serious expression. He could not have more than thirty years and it was quite nice, it was not for a big if right just below the cheekbone. It seemed made to be a nurse: the tunic and white trousers donated the lot, as a frame to fit a picture of a certain value. A picture with a nasty stain in the wrong but still nice.

"How are you?" He asked gently. His voice was soft, and on other occasions Robert would also find it sensual. What I did not fail to note, however, was that the doctors had saved the best for he had been at other times at the hospital - the cancer of her father, especially - and had never found nurses especially kind and nice. That seemed an exception.

'A bit' ... dazed, "said Robert without thinking. "In pieces" he added, this time saying what he really explained everything. He looked down again and felt the tears that were trying to make headway. He managed to keep them staring at the white sandals were the chief nurse as high fashion best that had ever been produced.

The nurse sighed and his eyes seemed to glisten. "The doctor gave her pain killers and told me to let it rest. I advise it, if I may ... "

"Where is my wife?" I asked with a tone that surprised even himself, without pain, without malice. Just out of curiosity. The hope had left hours before, when he had already seen the young man shook his head at the edge of the ditch and he was left in place only for the resignation. That was not for the initial stage, of course, and largely supported by the usual soothing.

"Well, his wife is ..." He was obviously embarrassed. Perhaps they had not informed that he had had time to see , thought Robert.

"I think I could give you all the explanations he seeks, Professor Santoni" said a doctor to help him at that moment entering the room. He was a distinguished man, who under the gown she wore a red tie on a pale blue shirt. He wore a pair of goggles from the hype that made him look like a perfect doctor. Dr. Michelini Caesar , was written next to his picture on the tag that hung in the pocket.

"If you feel able to follow me, I would take her in my studio where I can explain everything."

"Of course I can," said Roberto, without bothering to do this. "Let's go."

***

The study of Dr. Michelini was a room not much bigger than that in which he was awakened Roberto. Leaning against the wall with one side was a small desk with a computer and some piles of papers and folders. On a nearby cabinet had backed a laser printer connected to your computer. The opposite wall was covered almost entirely by a library with shelves filled by large bound volumes. A small window overlooking the courtyard of the hospital assured enlightenment.

On one of the two chairs facing the desk sat a policeman very robust. As soon as Roberto and the doctor came in, stood up and took off his hat. "Marshal Mortini, good morning" showed up, reaching for the professor.

"Professor Santoni," he said, that in a certain way it was expected to not only have to talk with the doctor. "A pleasure," he added, realizing too late that the place sounded out the word: what the heck, was not making a new acquaintance at the bar!

He took the hand of Marshal and squeezed with all the strength he had left the drugs in his muscles numb. The policeman was taken of the firm. Roberto felt such a sense of déjà vu, and suddenly realized that this must be the same person who recorded the testimony of the woman at the accident site. The one without accents in his voice.

"Sit also" urged the doctor, taking place in turn in the chair in leather by the high side of the desk. His voice was hushed, as well as what was thought of Marshal, and Robert was grateful to them because how could they showed their displeasure. They were much more so if they said "sympathy." "I hope it gets too hot in here." The doctor had locked the door but the room was cooled by the air from a nozzle on the wall.

"We feel we have not too," said the marshal, in view of the uniform he wore, the heat had to deal with it daily.

"Anyway, I'm fine," added Roberto, who continued to feel light and calm as if he had one drink too many. But it was a lightness and tranquility as thin as a veil that covered something much bigger and ready to rip at any moment. "As regards the temperature, I mean." She looked down as if to emphasize that as regards the rest was a million miles away from feeling good.

"Well," began the doctor, folding his hands on his desk and guardandosele while turning over the thumbs. He had to begin his speech and, as had happened many times before, he felt as if he were the cause of what had happened. As if death was not understandable to the family of the deceased before he came to announce it as an unquestioned fact, transformed himself into that old skeleton with a scythe in his hands. Reflections that they had never touched when still at university. "I think she already knows that the conditions of his wife left no hope for the possibility that ... in short, that ... "

"What survives" Robert came to him, nodding. It seemed incredible to be able to intervene in that speech as if he was giving his opinion on the action's goal in the match. Incredible do it without shedding a tear, not even feel the urge. "No, I ... I saw and did not seem right that any doctor could do something. " Maybe Jesus was about to add, but still had enough rationality to be able to stop those words suggested by the torpor that had invested the mind.

"Yes, the situation was desperate, definitely." The doctor adjusted his glasses, which had fallen on the tip of the nose. "And his wife has done it, as you well know. We have only been able to verify that this death. He had a lot of internal bleeding and multiple fractures. At least two of the ribs have punctured lungs. The crash has thrown against the windshield, causing a deep head injury. "He paused, still looking at his hands clasped. Robert believed that he was considering whether to add other details, such as mashed eye cast on the cheek or the tongue hanging out on bloodied face. "If somehow it can be of any help, I can assure you that his wife was killed instantly. At about 0:30, ie an hour before he was found. "

"He did not suffer," whispered Robert. He was speaking more to himself, as if thinking aloud.

"No. She died instantly, or at most a few minutes later. Anyway, his condition was so critical that he definitely lost consciousness before he died. "Dr. Michelini finally lifted his eyes and stared at Robert. He had finished his account and did not feel any better but had a less weight on the stomach.

Now she feared that her husband of the woman would begin to cry or scream at him that was all his fault, that was a murderess, who would have sued. At times it had happened and had been tremendous, because in those times were the victims of catastrophic death in his hands, while cerava to keep them this way with all his heart. And the worst was that he believed he had some responsibility, despite any links would be ready to swear that it was not even enough of a miracle. I'll often say, his parents, who had a weak character, he could not bear all the responsibilities of being a doctor, but how could listen to them at twenty and the height of his powers and ambitions?

But Roberto was perfectly calm. Devastated in the mind and heart, but calm. He kept his gaze fixed on the doctor's hands, then moved slowly up a folder bulging with yellow leaves, then came back. He wondered what he thought Simon at that time, before taking his last breath. I wonder if even then he struggled with all his determination not to panic and resignation and died with the thought turned to him and their children.

"And now," interjected a few seconds after the marshal. "Should I ask a few questions, if you feel able to respond."

Roberto gave his thoughts and looked at him. He noted again that square jaw, his eyes cold and the physical Hefty that allowed us to see the uniform. Gagliardo was the word that best described the Marshal. A man who got what he always wanted, by hook or by crook. "Yes, I can answer. But I also ... »

"I know, I understand perfectly, but please bear with me a few more minutes. Then ... "

At that moment someone knocked at the door and entered without waiting for an answer. She was a nurse and his pant must have followed that course. "Excuse me, Doctor, there Biso ..." he began, all out of breath.

"Excuse me" Michelini stopped him by raising a hand to him and pointing to the door. "I can not be bothered." The ability to give answers like this was another of the little dreams that he had when he was still studying medicine. Grit your teeth! was said when a question seemed insurmountable or when the idea was to study heavy as a boulder. Grit your teeth and become somebody!

The nurse listened with an expression somewhere between embarrassment and annoyance. But he dared not even try to argue with a but . He closed the door behind him without saying goodbye and no one disturbed him after the interview. Perhaps it was a rumor.

"Excuse me, sergeant. Keep well. "

"No problem," she assured him that, returning his gaze on Roberto, who gave the impression that he had not even realized what had happened. "So, Mr. Santoni," He sighed, as if preparing for a long and tedious job. "What kind of woman was his wife?" Her voice was firm, decided, without the small but perceptible hesitation, like ripples on the water surface, Dr. Michelini.

Roberto found himself crowded out: the demand for a million dollars! He could talk for hours about Simona and write a whole book about her, unable to say how he really was, without transmitting to his listeners or his reader not only the idea of her being special, of his ability to bring ' joy even in a group of people plucked from a death, but also and above all the magic that was in everything. The magic that sometimes he felt like a light in his eyes, as a reflection on her smile, like a tone in his voice, and that must have been what really made it different.

How could he explain how it felt when you spoke to her or even more when you hug or kiss you? It was like stepping into contact, at a deeper level, with that magic, as becoming involved in a wonderful symbiosis in which he lived by his love and she's his happiness. And how to describe ...

Then he realized what really interested to sergeant and eventually lost the question the strangeness and complexity that was awarded at the beginning.

"It was," he began, feeling his tongue stuck to the palate. She found herself wondering if Vasco Rossi imbottisse of tranquilizers before every TV appearance, or any concert. "She was very cheerful, I would say ... I would say at peace with itself. Sa ... Well, you know what women are usually not? They think they are fat even on the verge of anorexia, you are ugly, old, and twenty or thirty years ... "As he spoke he shook his head as if to roll into his mouth the words he sought.

"Yes, I grasped the concept," snapped the officer.

"Well." He paused to regain his train of thought. "Here, instead Simona ... he never complained once. Not that he thought he was perfect, in fact he was more conscious of its defects than many other people I know. But there was not to despair for a pimple on the forehead or because one day he weighed three grams more than usual. He lived trying to create the least amount of unnecessary problems and taking care of things very serious, very important. So he could make us all feel better too. You see, I have this belief: that you, enjoying this inner well-being ... Well, he had more charged, more grit and ... and we transmit it. As a current generator that powered three large lamps, me and my children, and you never wore, indeed, is recharged more and more, simply seeing the serenity that reigned in our family. "The will was drawn a smile on his lips: the pain, kept at bay by drugs, giving way to the beautiful thoughts and memories it evoked.

"Okay, this I think it was pretty clear. And I understand that there were difficulties in your relationship. No ... no bickering, no opportunity to disagree? "

Roberto began to shake his head before responding, and took a moment to reflect, even though he had doubts. "I would say no." Dr. Michelini, who was present interested in the conversation, held a sneeze as not to interrupt or perdersene not even a fraction. "You see, we ourselves are often surprised to find that ... how to say? It seemed that the feeling that united us when we met and we got engaged was not dropped after the wedding, and over the years, but remained constant. If not deeper. This has the complicity, the joking and playing, this euphoria of the first month, or even the first years together? Look, I can assure you that I never miss, so much so that ... "He paused with another half-smile on his lips and staring into her eyes, perhaps a beginning of the reemergence of pain or perhaps a nostalgia for preventive of those moments (and probably both), shone. "So much so that sometimes we found ourselves laughing and laughing like two stupid and without any particular reason. Perhaps for an expression of one or the comical. And you think our kids were telling us to stop. our children ! Crazy. But also incredibly soft. It is very painful now. "

He looked and saw the sergeant nodded slowly, but without abandoning his serious attitude. Gagliardo . He noted that even the doctor nodded and vigor and participation which he did were those who had been really impressed. He had begun to look at your hands and turn over the thumbs. From the corridor outside came many voices and a few cries and noises of creaking machinery of stretchers and wheelchairs or being moved. And yet Robert perceived the smell of disinfectant that permeated everything and everyone that worked at the hospital.

"I know," he continued. "You think I'm trying to give a description of our history ... how to say ... fabulous. It is a criticism that we have always done in many, when Simon and I were trying to explain the feeling that united us. And I can not blame her. But I want to reassure you a bit ': we fought and we too frequently. It happened for different reasons and sometimes we stayed for hours bickering. I remember one day ... I was washing the dishes and humming a song - sang often at home, and this also helped to make the happy climate - and, letting myself be a little 'hand, I tried to spin a plate to resume the flight. But I slipped and broke. So Simon began to reproach myself that I was worse than a child and sometimes I had better not sit still for disasters combined. Then, you know, one word led to another and you fight for long. But she understands well that disputes of this kind, for reasons like this ... as they say ... futile ... Well, it was not about one side of my character that she just could not bear but a broken plate by mistake! There are problems that can undermine a relationship, especially if it takes account of how I explained it was mine. And we ourselves were aware there and we had peace and laughing at ourselves. I remember it well. " Again the smile and bright eyes. "We hugged and we made our excuses and felt that we love even more than before, almost for a moment we guessed what it would hate instead of loving. Everything was put in place, you know? And I'm sure this played a major role in the character of Simon and his ability to transmit her inner peace. "

The sergeant stared at him in silence and continued to do even for a moment, considering if it should add more. But the response was more exhaustive and that it was getting late, so he decided to proceed. "Very well. From what he told me I would exclude the possibility of a suicide ... "

Roberto opened his eyes and raised eyebrows in an expression of amazement. "Suicide? Simona? But it would be easier than Bin Laden he convert to Christianity, "said, sounding terribly serious.

"Bring patience, sir, but we can not rule anything out in advance. That's suicide was a possibility quite remote, and his words confirm this. The dynamics of the accident remains, however strange or at least unusual, and we wanted to be sure that the lady had no problems that could push it to an extreme action. "

***

From somewhere outside, or perhaps from a room next door, came the sound of a phone: only two before a female voice answered. In the corridor someone was asking where she was a nurse in the neurology department.

"In that sense, the dynamic is strange?" Robert asked, frowning. He had observed the scene of the accident, he had no eyes for the Simona lifeless body, and the words of Marshal had instilled in him the suspicion that some details might make you think of an event is not accidental. The involvement of someone else.

"It will be noticed that the arrangement of black lines on the asphalt suggests a sudden and seemingly inexplicable car steering to the right."

"Honestly no, I did not notice," admitted Robert. Dr. Michelini nodded again.

"Well ... signs on the street almost form a right angle. From our reconstruction, the car must have braked sharply and swerved sharply to the right. A second before proceeding in a straight line along the highway and a second after it was rotated approximately ninety degrees to the right. A maneuver to rally, if you will pardon the comparison, which requires a rapid and complete rotation of the steering wheel. As if ... "

"How to avoid an obstacle?" Robert preceded him.

"Exactly. We developed two hypotheses. The first is that his wife has fainted or had a moment of distraction or even fell asleep, but exclude, since the time of the accident. Maybe simply a reflection of sunlight, a reflection at the wrong time. In any case, something that has made him lose control of the car making it crash into the ditch. "

Roberto thought of those words and mentally reconstructed images of what they described. Simon who was driving to school smiling, thinking, and Matthias embrace that would have given him a lot of there not, then a blinding glare, the hands on the wheel slipped and she tried to regain control, managing only to finish off road after half spin. Plausible, but something was not returned.

"The second possibility, more likely, is that something has cut off, forcing her to swerve, with the consequences that she has seen. Inevitably, may have also treated a cat that crossed it. "

"But nobody was there to ..."

"No, no witnesses, if that's what you mean."

"You can not! The accident occurred at noon and a half, is not it, doctor? "

"Most likely" secured Michelini.

"And at that hour the streets are full! If this were not enough, there's a bar right there in front, where there is the supermarket. At that time it is mathematically certain to find anyone around these parts! "

"Sorry, Professor, but it does not. We consulted with the manager of the bar is talking about, who told us that at that time were about half a dozen customers, but everyone inside, where the air conditioning made the temperature bearable. With regard to possible witnesses in the car ... is true, was the time it leaves the office, or shortly after, but the fact remains that at times the road is less busy and ... again, fate would have it, his wife transitasse in one of those moments. "

"But .. and if it had been buffered? If they had done and had escaped out of the way? "Roberto could not accept the absurdity of a death caused by a dog or a cat crossing the road. The death of his wife .

"We thought about it, but we found no signs of collision on the car, or fragments of glass on the roadway. I ... "said the marshal.

"A bicycle!" Almost shrieked Roberto, overlapping with enthusiasm to his voice. "She said a cat, but if it was a bicycle that has crossed the road? There are a lot of those stupid kids who are riding without hands and without precaution or those immigrants who are not in the wrong ... "

"I understand that you will find a reason, a convicted "the sergeant stopped him. "But I assure you that there is nothing that gives credence to this possibility. Nor do we think that there are witnesses who do not want to be alive, because why would not the first and second ... know how, who attends an accident tends to stay in place for calling for help and look around, above all, and ... as bad to say, we would take to come forward and tell what they have witnessed, as if to help us police represented a brief moment of glory. "

"I understand, I understand, is that ..."

"And if I can" interjected Dr. Michelini, albeit uncomfortable "does not arrovelli the mind to seek the truth at all costs, risks ... make things worse. The truth is hard to accept but, and I speak from the heart, not a doctor, should try to get over it as soon as possible. "

"I agree" continued the sergeant. "I repeat: if we had even the slightest suspicion that it may have gone differently, we would do everything to go down the other. But, however strange, dynamics, together with his statements, leading to conclusions that I have shown: a fatality. Okay? "

Roberto sat silent, his heart still throbbing with excitement. He nodded, serious, but it was not yet convinced. It would not be ever.

***

Dr. Michelini and Marshal Mortini were silent for a moment. Roberto began to cry. It was hard to accept the death of his wife but he was much more the idea that it could be caused by someone else: the idea of invading the bike lane was cemented in his mind and would not have gone easily. He felt the pain mixed with the anger and hatred. Within hours of his life had changed so radically reversed upside down on a deep abyss and feet tied and supported only by a few weak threads.

By the way, still had to warn them. A girl of nineteen years and a child of seven had just lost his mother and he was standing there playing the detective sergeant with a strict and a strange doctor. It felt incredibly guilty and incredibly late. He looked at his watch and saw that it was nearly four and a half. Then the increased flow of tears, because Roberto recalled being incredibly alone and thought it was like a knife that penetrated his stomach.

"Thank you, sergeant, but now I must go," she announced, trying to maintain a normal voice though weeping. "I must warn my children."

"Please, please. I'm through. "

"There is a public phone here?" Asked Robert, remembering not to have the phone.

"Down the hall, to the right" the doctor informed him, pointing the direction with one arm. "After I ask you another minute to identify the body." And he made the last proposal with a sense of guilt as thick as tar.

Robert nodded.

"But I look at the exit," continued the sergeant. "The drive you home."

Why can not I go with my car? Roberto was about to ask, then he remembered that he had arrived at the hospital by ambulance. It was so hard to get used to the idea of what had happened, all that series of events that had swept like a raging wind on an ocean of sadness and confusion. "Very well. Thank you. But now ... "

"Yes, go ahead. In the bottom right, "repeated the doctor. And when Roberto came out, he thought he had never suffered worse than the sight of his tearful face.

***

Matthias sat on the sofa in the living room and began watching television, somewhere between a cartoon and a nap so he would spend the whole afternoon. Gisella began clearing the table and made a face before throwing trash the pasta dish he had prepared for Simona. How much waste, and all the people dying of hunger! And why? Just because his daughter was lost somewhere!

It was already one and a half and Roberto had not been felt, which meant that everything was under control. He had tried to call home just minutes before and had found busy. will be on the phone with her, he thought. This will call and have discovered that it is still running at the supermarket because he had forgotten to buy milk. It is so distracted! And his belief that some tragedy had happened with that thought had vanished, leaving only a critical interior against Simon.

Roberto I was blinded and did not realize it was a woman but not serious. Always ready to laugh and joke and sing. A lady like you have had only two things to think about: the house and children. Instead she had sought a job, because he wanted to make a "modern woman" in his career. Well, dear, very well. And meanwhile I have to keep their children and Roberto must make the trades for you when he returns to school! Thanks for giving us beautiful, then: you forget even to them, their children, and had it not been for the teacher! But if I lived in my time ...

Then the sirens started and every critical thought vanished. The heart froze and my legs froze. He was bent over the trash can with a dirty plate in one hand and a fork in the other. He closed his eyes and frowned, and she found herself praying mentally that was not how he thought that the sirens were not playing for Simon, that the Lord would preserve her and her son and her grandchildren from such a misfortune. They were so beautiful a family, after all, and her late husband had understood from the outset. He also prayed. It 'that never happened, Mario. you are so close to the Lord and the Virgin Mary and all saints, is' they're all good .

"It's the ambulance?" Asked the other room Mattia, while the sound of sirens approaching. Gisella did not hear the tone of concern and Matthias rejoiced. It seemed simple curiosity and not a very strong, as he had done so much for that question to air out the language. To confirm this, Gisella, getting up, saw him raise the volume of the television and get more comfortable in the chair. He decided not to answer him, pretending not to hear, and received no other questions.

There was an ambulance. The police, probably. The sirens did not come close more: they had stopped and a rough guess would be right near the house of Robert. Her hearing could be refined, if interested. Shortly after there was silence and Gisella began to pray, as he continued to fill the sink with dirty dishes. Sometimes it's a bit 'odd and even I struggle to understand his behavior, but it's a good girl. Protect her, Lord, please. Because Roberto loves her. Because he has two children and is still very, very young.

But new sirens came from the opposite direction. And this time it was the ambulance. That sound was impressed on the mind when, ten years before, her husband had a heart attack. He immediately called the emergency room and within minutes had heard them coming and yelled desperate that they should make more quickly, more quickly. But now he wanted to get rid of the sirens, not having to remove them until no longer hear the lament.

"Again?" Asked Mattia and this time he turned toward her. "What, grandma?"

Gisella turned slowly, trying to take a relaxed. "Hmph! There will be some elderly people who feel ill. In this heat you can not just stay quiet time. "He was satisfied with her and found that he felt no small sense of guilt that he had rather impressed his teacher Anna when she lied to Mattia.

The child seemed satisfied with the answer. He looked at her grandmother with worried expression, as if to want to ensure that she was not hurt by the heat, then returned to television. While the images flowed indulged in a big yawn and began to ponder the possibility of a nap.

Gisella mentally followed the path of the ambulance and saw him stop at the same point where the police already had to be. The siren went out, but do not let him go to another moment of hope. To tell the truth, he had never hoped so far, but only feared. Or heard. She continued to wash the dishes while the consciousness that just screamed for what would have been spared the last bad thoughts about Simon.

***

A few minutes later the two Matthias was sound asleep. Gisella had just finished with the dishes and was moving into the living room to turn off the TV when she heard the sirens of the fire brigade. At the sound, which did nothing to further confirm his fears, and what's more worse, turned a painful look at the child. Poor boy, said to him mentally. What ever you have reserved the fate?

It was amazing how his attitude towards all, especially Simon, had changed when she realized that something serious was at stake. He said that his was a moment of initial disappointment, perhaps due to a genuine concern for the daughter. But deep down he felt a part of her had always had a dislike for Simona and that only now, faced with the threat of a sense of guilt that would leave her for the rest of his life, began to retract.

He sighed, raising his eyebrows again. How are you going to look into his eyes Roberto? asked. How will you do when you see his pain and remember the bitterness of your word against his poor dead wife?

He put the phone with a momentum that threatened to drop it. He dialed the number and Roberto waited a long time but nobody was home. The despair came over her like a slap in the face violent and she wanted to scream. He covered his mouth with his hands clenched into fists to hold back and closed his eyes. Slowly, she tried to calm down: it was old, must not forget, and it was better not to put to test his tired heart.

He found the remote on the chair where he slept Mattia and turned off the television. The silence that descended on the room - we were even off the sirens of the fire - it was thick as the sense of guilt in the soul of Gisella. It seemed almost hard to move, as it were immersed in a gelatinous. However he made a first step and another and another, until in the kitchen. He took a chair and sat, elbows on the table.

And so it remained for nearly two hours. He did not hear sirens coming back to the hospital and that was not a good sign, but now was not very good in that day. Did not arrive or call Simona felt that he was fine and that he had a little mishap, nor Robert who said he had found it at work or in a clothes store.

About four o'clock the phone rang. Gisella, who until then had kept away any thought, he felt within himself up again and the despair that remotely sensed the presence of the last remaining hope, like a lighthouse now too distant to be clearly distinguished. He jumped up and regretted it when he saw that the room was spinning around. He closed his eyes, and when the illness passed, went to the phone in the living room. He saw that Matthias went to sleep, in a very uncomfortable position.

"Hello?" Replied his voice hoarse and mournful tone.

"Gisella? I'm Maria, "said the woman at the other end. He lived in an apartment across from the church and was one of the ladies with whom he was Gisella almost every afternoon for a chat or, better, to gossip, in front of a hot tea in winter and in summer a granita.

"Oh, hello" Gisella greeted her, while the lighthouse away completely disappeared on the horizon. "So?" "Well?" was the typical question of who had anything to say and wanted to avoid awkward silences.

"So?" Repeated Mary, and was almost stunned. "But I'm asking you! How are you? "Even in his voice was strong dialect.

And Gisella all knew immediately, even before his girlfriend him and confirmed that Robert could think of to put the current call. Simon was dead. He had done nothing but think about it but at that moment had arrived certainty was another person to give it to him and there was room for further doubts or hopes. "Normal" she lied. "Why?"

At the other end of the phone there was an imperceptible hesitation. Then Maria burst and seemed indignant that more distraught. " Bemma how? Do not you know yet? "The question there was a tinge of pride, as if to say Certainly you do not know and I'm here ready to tell you everything beautiful! "No, it is true, how do you know," he continued without waiting an answer. "Poor thing," he added.

Gisella's stomach twitched and his heart began to pound at a faster pace. He closed his eyes and tried to remain silent for fear of hearing his voice choked by tears that a first, small tear on the cheek, heralded the rough. It would be the worst thing, because those were tears of his sense of guilt more than pain.

"I had gone shopping" began Mary, as if recounting a scene from a movie. "My Gigi asked me to give him the pizza tonight, and I had the flour. However I came out of the supermarket around two, I believe, and I saw all these people that there was a little 'further. Not where is the house of your Robert, I ', but after the intersection. Oh, I told myself. Is' to see which one is off the road and went into the ditch. Because there were so many people standing in the grass where there is the ditch on the roadside. That is a bad way, my mother, with all those trucks. And there was a car of the policemen, I '!'

Gisella, who knew Mary, unable to follow his train of thought even though it was more than confused. But Mary had already embarked on the ramp for sclerosis and could not reverse the direction of travel.

"Then I said to myself: there ', to prepare the dough for the pizza I have time. Maybe I look at what has happened here. I did not do it well? Then they are gone across the street, and luckily have put the traffic light, which otherwise had to wait two hours before that there were more trucks! and meanwhile it is also the ambulance arrived. What bad stuff, those sirens there, which always comes when I feel goose bumps. In fact I said to myself: Oh God, here there was a big accident! I went closer and ... Oh, Gisella, I'm sorry. I saw your Roberto lying in the grass crying. "

Gisella felt another stab to the stomach. The remembered memories: his son, still a child, who was returning from the Oratory crying because "large" had been dropped. She had brought with him, had returned to the oratory and yelled to "large" that if you even dare to approach Roberto would have thrown them all in the trash. And Robert had felt extremely embarrassed, would tell her, but the "big" does not really did anything.

Now Roberto cried so certainly more desperate then. Lying in the grass he thought - he gritted his teeth as if to block a cry of despair that threatened to strariparle from the throat - and she could not help him. He had not even been close. More tears ran down her cheeks marked by sixty springs.

"He was there and I wanted to go to him and ask him what was wrong, but there were two policemen and one kept saying to stay away and was also angry because he had to move the ambulance. So I'm stood there on the grass and felt even your Roberto crying and saying something, but I did not understand. After I saw a car in the ditch. I saw only the back part, but I think the front was all crushed. It was a black car and I do not know what brand it was, I mean I do, I '... but your Roberto said 'Simon, Simon', now understood, and then ... It was a really bad stuff, I '! A doctor took it and another has helped to bring him into the ambulance. Following are the firemen arrived and have had to work do not know how to cut the car doors and pull out your daughter. I do not have you seen anything, I ', because they have hidden everything to me and why do I feel that sort of thing there. But as the ambulance took an iron chest in the ditch and have it put in, as seen on television, and then are distributed immediately to the hospital. I have not even had time to say anything to you Roberto. And there was so many people. After the firefighters pulled up the car and stayed a while 'looking at her with the police. I was still a bit ', which was so soon and then I was sorry. And I came back half an hour ago and did not know whether to call you. Not to tell you no, there ', but because I thought I knew already and maybe you thought I was a curious one. Instead you did not know? "

"No," said Gisella, but his was more than one way. Now his face was wet with tears. He gripped the phone as if to crush.

"No, right. Maybe your Roberto is still in the hospital. But now you'll see that you can just call him. It's a good guy. I'm so sorry so much. "

"Thank you. Now ... I'm sorry, but ... "Say a word was difficult as giving birth to a son. Gisella And suddenly he found himself exhausted, not knowing that a few minutes before his son had the same reaction to the pain that had fallen upon him.

"Yes, yes, sorry for you. I can understand, I '! But if you need company I am always there! "

"All right ... Hello 'and hung up immediately. Maria he would not hold. Would understand and that otherwise would go to hell.

Gisella was standing a few moments, eyes closed and arms at his sides. How she wished her tears could wash away the dirt remorse that soiled conscience. He turned and looked at Mattia asleep blessed, still unaware of everything. She reached down and gently kissed her forehead.

Then came the image of Roberto, who cried and invoked the name of Simon sprawled in the grass and the thought made her sink.

***

Roberto was in front of the phone with hands full of coins and indecision about who to call first. Eventually he chose his mother, more than anything to postpone the tragic moment when he would have warned Isa, his mother-in-law. God only knew how he would react to the death of his daughter and, given its seventy-six, was not the case for a joke.

He inserted a coin into the phone and dialed a euro Gisella. It took only got three rings to answer, but in those few seconds Roberto found himself considering the idea that his mother already knew everything.

"Hello," said Gisella and the mournful tone of his voice gave confirmation to the thinking of Robert.

"Mom," she began, but the tears never granted him to continue. The sound of the voice of his mother had opened a deep crack in the dam, which until then had preserved him from crying. For the first time since the tragedy could talk to someone who knew someone who could really understand her pain. Above all, hear that voice, the family confirmed again that it was all terribly true.

"Roberto, darling!" Immediately tried to calm him but Gisella in turn was caught by tears. Her sobs came through the receiver to his ear Roberto, magnifying his despair even more.

A girl of about twenty-five years he walked quickly down the corridor of the hospital passed to Robert and seeing him in that condition, assumed an expression of deep pain that carved a furrow in the middle of the forehead. He made us just the case.

A few moments later managed to find a minimum of calm. "Mom" he continued, seeing that the end was easy never to tell. "Do not say ... say nothing to Matthias. I talk to him tonight, okay? "

"Yes, yes, darling. Yes, "said Gisella between sobs. "Now he's sleeping, poor thing. But how was it? "

Roberto saw on the screen of the phone that his remaining forty cents and decided it was best to close the call. "I'll explain later, Mom. Towards evening I come and I'll explain everything. Now I go, hello. "

"You're tr ..." he heard coming from the phone but hung up without waiting. The phone returned the rest. Roberto reinserted and added another euro, getting ready to call it more difficult.

***

Isa sat on his leather chair and stared absently at the television. Olga, the Ukrainian nanny that Simona had entrusted a couple of years, was dusting the furniture in the living room, taking advantage of the truce that was granted. It was not easy to follow a woman so old: preparing to eat, wash, help her to walk to prevent it from falling, bear her senile outbursts or her crazy ideas. And all for a modest salary at the bottom. However it was more than enough to help his family remained in Ukraine to starve.

"What time is it?" Said Isa biting words. Do not take his gaze from the TV, in its rigid posture, severe gaze.

Olga looked at his watch to the wall. "The four thirty, 'he replied, with his deep accent. It was difficult to learn Italian and even more difficult was having to figure out when the lady was speaking in dialect.

Isa did not answer, no thanks, he did a damn thing. As if the question had arisen independently of his will and not care about time.

But Olga was used repeatedly and quietly dusting: the task was almost a hobby, when compared with the other. "They are there four thirty, 'he repeated, with a melodious voice, knowing that it was as if talking to herself. "The all is well."

The phone rang. Isa did not react in any way, staring. Olga sighed and went to answer it. The only phone calls that came were the ones with the young lady and her son and only occasionally were the grandchildren. All nice people, to whom he was very fond. Mainly because the ability to work and kept it hidden even if no one was allowed to stay.

"Hello," replied the same voice as melodious as before. And only then Isa seemed to notice what was happening around her. He turned his head toward the phone and began to listen.

"Roberto? Is that you? You all right? "Said Olga, who was suddenly worried. "Hello?"

Isa frowned at his words. He moved his lips as if to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth. Only a single tear slid down his cheek from the corner of the right eye and wrinkled white. Isa narrowed his eyes as if to stop her but it was too late. It was too late for everything, apparently.

"How?" Olga continued. "O holy God, I'm sorry. I now say to Madame. "

Isa went back to look ahead. He looked down and moved his lips again. "I told you," she whispered. And those were among the last words he spoke for the rest of his days.

"Yes, calmly. No, I know that she is fragile. How? Ah, yes, it is good. She is quiet, Robert. I'm sorry. Hello. "Olga And so he hung up. He felt weak, hurt and scared. He would never have expected such a tragedy and did not know if it would have been able to break the news to the lady without causing trauma, as he had promised to Roberto. And in the depths of his unconscious part of her, more cynical, wondering if now would lose their jobs.

"Madam?" He called, approaching the chair. "Did Roberto tilefonato" he began.

But Isa had already figured out.

***

Roberto hung up for the second time. He was able to cry less, this time, but not enough. He wondered if he had scared Olga and especially if he had done well to warn her by phone instead of going to talk to his mother-in-law. Perhaps it would run less risk. But it was done.

His thoughts were dispelled by the arrival of the marshal to his shoulders. "He has done, Mr. Santoni? I would not put too much haste, but I must return to barracks. If you do not mind ... "

"No, no, I'll be right, I promise. The last phone call, I ... I tell my daughter. "

"Okay, but please hurry. The memories that are waiting for the acknowledgment of his wife. "

"Yeah," said Robert, remembering only now. Once torture awaited him, as if he had not already suffered enough. He wondered whether he would be able to watch even the corpse of Simona without getting hopelessly sealed. "Then I suffered."

He pulled out his wallet and looked through the papers the package with the Cristina's cell phone number. Poor thing thought. I pity them all. They were living a normal day, waiting for the evening to meet and tell about their adventures at dinner, unaware of what life could be cruel, than at any moment could decide to walk away and throw all into the abyss.

He found the number and dialed. The figure of Marshal Mortini behind it was cumbersome, annoying, disrespectful. "Cristina?" He asked, when his daughter said. The effort to maintain a normal voice was indescribable: he wondered what he could to resist.

"No, no, no. I just wanted to let you know that tonight we eat from her grandmother, so if you is not a problem you can stop right there when you come back from the university. Is it okay? "He listened for a moment. "No problem, I'll take the clothes from her grandmother and you can wash yourself there. Yes? No, no problem, I just wanted to warn you so that you get home and can not find anyone. Ok? Hello, see you later. "

Reattach was one of the greatest reliefs that had ever tried at the same time marked the beginning of a sense of guilt that would accompany him for ever. Not only that Cristina had just lost his mother and did not know, but her father had spoken as if nothing had happened, mentendole on something so important. He had done for his own good, but maybe Cristina would not have willingly accepted it anyway.

"Do you mind ..." urged the sergeant saw that Roberto was lost in thought, his hand still resting on the handset. "Bring patience, but ..."

"Come, come," said mechanically, the vague tone of one who has his mind occupied by something else. "We do what we do."

"Well, follow me."

***

Gisella thanked heaven that afternoon Matthias was a prey to exhaustion as to make him sleep for hours. At five and a half, just over an hour after the phone call from Robert, the child was still sleeping. Make dreams happy grandmother told him mentally. Why in the coming days I will have far too much sadness .

He cried a lot more than he could think of. Perhaps as much as the day when her husband was dead. And her pain was not only the fact itself, as the awareness of the pain that this had resulted in Roberto. He was young, had a baby, still had a life ahead: not deserve such a disgrace, not yet.

He cried a lot and had been forced to do so in silence, unable to give full vent to his despair, not to wake Matthias. It would already be aware of the terrible news from her father's words, without risking injury to induce a much bigger let alone drew its conclusions after watching his grandmother in tears. Besides, he had heard the sirens of the ambulance.

Now Gisella sat in the kitchen, well aware of what was supposed to do and however reluctant. Roberto had not thought of, obviously, too engrossed in his nightmare, but pious woman Gisella knew that it was necessary to call the pastor to ask him to recite the rosary and the funeral. However, about the blocking was as if he could arrange the funeral ceremonies make the tragedy even more true.

He had experienced similar feelings when he lost his family and particularly her husband. Her death was terrible, but it had almost abstract until such time as he had not found the church to establish his coffin. If up to that time his mind was limited to knowing that Mario was dead, the coffin, flowers, condolences, the ceremony, the burial had made him understand . And it was even worse.

But there was no way to escape reality, not even from so much pain. So, fearing that, as tired sooner or later he would wake Mattia, Gisella looked up the number of Don Mauro. He thought of asking the recitation of the rosary in church for that evening and the next night. For the funeral would be fine Thursday or Friday, he was always available

With trembling hands, dialed the number.

***

"Another hour?" Asked Daniel to Christine. "Shit, it's almost five!"

"Come on, do not say bad words at all," she chided him good-naturedly. He sat on his lap and held her arms around his neck. They were on a bench next to the building of the Faculty of Engineering campus.

"Excuse me, your holiness" Daniel laughed and planted a kiss on the lips.

"When you can cut this beard?" She complained, rubbing his chin with one hand. "But yes, I have five to six lessons. Although it usually ends the first quarter of an hour. "

"I would not make it this time. I'd stay home. "

"But you are you. Are you a couch potato! Think you live here a hundred meters, yes and no, but I have an hour's bus back! "She smiled, looking at him with loving eyes.

Daniel lived in rented an apartment for students just off campus. Cristina had known him in the cafeteria a few weeks before. Had no place and was placed next to the guy who initially had not even looked. Then he had taken advantage and an excuse had attacked a speech: "Do not we already seen the case for the seminar on the job?" It was a seminar held a few days before and to which all students were almost obliged to participate, then Daniel had gone on the safe side.

A word he pulled the other from that day and had begun to look at often. When not had lesson and Cristina was sleeping, Daniel joined her and spent their time together. A few days earlier had agreed to enter into his house and presented it to her mother and her grandmother Isa. Cristina had thought it would be nice for him and his mom, but eventually had regretted seeing him in a quandary, though Simon had argued to the contrary.

Now they were embraced, until it began the lesson by Cristina, when the phone rang. "Wow!" He said. "I forgot the ringtone high! And if I was playing in class? "

Daniel looked at her with an amused expression. "But it did not happen!" He remarked. "Answer me, come on."

Cristina looked at the screen of your Nokia, which informed that the call came from an unknown number. "Who is he?" He wondered aloud.

Daniel was about to remind you that the best way to know was to respond, but stopped seeing that Cristina had finally pressed the button with the green receiver.

"Hello? Yes, hello, Dad. You! What is it a problem? "He waited. "Ah, yes, yes, ok. But I should wash myself, maybe. "Another pause. "Listen, Dad. Are you sure that everything is okay? "Daniel gave her a reproachful look, shaking his head. "Well, hello" she concluded, and hung up.

"But you must always create you explain to me why all these problems?" Daniel asked, not entirely joking. "Your father calls you for a very normal thing and you're already thinking about who knows what!"

"But really, I do not know what to say," she defended herself. "I never usually calls me and then used an unknown number. Why has not called me at home? "

"You did not say which is the professor? Maybe it's still in school and used a cab. Come on, please do not do that! "

Cristina felt ashamed and most of you realized that in two words Daniel had given the most logical explanation for that phone call, but there was still that feeling of something not quite completely in the right direction. "All right, sorry."

"Well, anyway, what did he say?" Said Daniel, the most heartening.

"What we're going to eat my grandmother and that takes me beyond the clothes to change into. But .. "His face went suddenly dark.

"But what?" Urged Daniel.

"I do not know, I had a voice that seemed strange ... Perhaps the first step to reassure me from home, then I go to my grandmother. "

"No, no, no! This is not good. You just said you're quiet, I told you that you should not be afraid of everything! Now look at me straight in the face. "He approached her and gazed into her eyes, resting his hands on his shoulders. "Promise me you will not come down until the bus arrived at the home of your grandmother. Nothing happens if you pass by your house and check that everything is okay, nothing changes for me. But it is a matter of principle. I want to heal this problem, the more and stop worrying. Okay? "

Cristina thought for a moment, looking down. "Okay, I promise. I'm sorry. It's just that with the fact my mom, we're talking so much these days, I would not want ... "

"Bastaaa ... Be happy with your mom will see that it solves, did not you say you wrote that you need to chat tonight? And then, when you go to eat the grandmother is always a party, then smile. But do not overdo it! With food, I mean ... "

Christina laughed and embraced Daniel. And in the grasp of those strong arms seized the three thoughts. The first was not that Daniel never spoke of his parents and family, so she did not know precisely where he originated. The second was that he felt lucky to have found a guy so wonderful, who seemed to know exactly what she liked and made them understand that every second that he loved.

And the third was that he regretted not having gone to bed with him already two weeks before, though not all know that a few days ago, and have repeated the experience again and again in the days to follow.

***

It looked like a different house from that which was passed just hours before. He had not had time to get out of Mortini Marshal, who had greeted him in haste and in a somewhat annoyed, feeling that once the new one had caught him.

He looked like an abandoned house, cursed. That great garden in which he and Simon had spent virtually all of their Saturday afternoon had suddenly turned into a tangled mass of weeds and monstrous that accompanied gaze up at the entrance to the haunted house.

It was still hot. Robert climbed over the gate and walked up the driveway. He wondered what divine force had helped him not to faint when he was forced to revise the body of Simon. In the hospital room where they had taken the body had been cleaned and reassembled and it was a spectacle less worse than the scene of the accident, but it was still his wife. Died.

He reached the door and found her still open. As the first visit of a long series by an old friend who had decided to move far, far away, Simon's voice spoke in his mind: The day when entering the house will not find the pants maybe even learn to close Key! Echo of the past, when they were first married and he had too much faith in the goodness of men. He had listened to the advice of Simon, but his confidence had remained. But that day was gone as well: Is it possible that no one saw anything? wondered.

He entered the house. His legs felt tired, like the rest of the body, however. In his quiet life, modest, was suddenly plunged a boulder not think he could bear. He grew up with the childish, naive idea that he spent his whole life with his wife and that, in due course, he would be the first to go. Why was it, was almost always the case: first husband died, then his wife.

Already, almost always. When in the normal course of events did not fit a distraction in the car that made you swerve and crash into a ditch. Or when someone cut the road and fled after thinking that perhaps the incident was more serious than expected and that it was best to avoid unnecessary trouble. Roberto began to cry. The attempt to turn her pain into anger had failed. It was still too early.

The short corridor leading from the stairs leading to first floor appeared to challenge him with her to be quiet and empty. It was as if the walls had absorbed every sound, every smell from the family home, leaving all the sensations of Roberto converge towards that immense pain that obscured the heart. It was a house where he stayed only for the memory space, and it was the memory of a happy event.

With his face streaked with tears, Roberto is forced not to turn to the cabinet on the picture to the right. He did not want to see the beautiful face of Simon, not yet, or wanted to remember his body disfigured. For the moment he wanted to try to keep it out of his mind, he wanted to ignore even her weeping and the knot in his stomach that caused him the same way they forgot that he was breathing or blinking occasionally.

He went up the stairs and gave only a brief glimpse into the kitchen. His eyes saw only the TI AMO on the slate, a picture soon as the flash of a camera. But just as dazzling. Robert fell to the ground, rolling on his back and began screaming at the ceiling, writhing and sobbing as he had never done before in life. He cried almost to lose his voice, called out the name of Simon, and inarticulate ways they sought in vain to relieve his suffering. And wept loud, almost choking risk for cramps. But in those minutes, not even her survival instincts longer had any importance in those minutes, the half of his soul that was entrusted to Simone forever had finally noticed to be left alone.

***

The bus was traveling on Cristina began to slow down for the next stop, the one to whom she habitually fell, a few hundred meters from his house. Today had to take to the streets and throughout the trip had not done anything but ripeterselo, as if it were a delicate mission of war and planned in detail.

However, the seed of doubt had crept into his mind after a call from his father would not let truce with his forked tongue whispered to her home that something was wrong, that was too weird to eat by grandmother during the week, it was curious that the father had called from a phone booth.

On the other hand, was almost seven o'clock and had it not come soon from her grandmother would all be worried, except for Mom. It was something I could not stand, to be still a matter of apprehension as if he was nineteen and he could not fend for themselves even more hated having to admit that, despite the efforts of Simon to transfer the whole family the joy of living without always think the worst, she was more influenced by the character voted the pessimism of his father and his grandmother. And at that time was to worry that something bad had happened, when in fact they were all waiting to sit at a table spread.

The bus stopped and opened the doors. Cristina was a few seconds to decide. In those moments he thought Daniel had promised that he would not invented problems exist and that would go directly from his grandmother. He did not want her paranoia was created, had told him on several occasions. She had repeatedly pledged to correct, restrain. She arrived an opportunity to prove to herself that she was able, but ...

Eastpak hastily picked up his blue and fell before the doors are richiudessero, shouting a goodbye that crossed the empty bus and walked to the driver.

***

It was a little more than a quarter to seven when Roberto got up on his feet. He did not feel at all reassured, but the outburst was momentarily dispelled the knot in my stomach that gripped him. He thought he could stand without crying for a while ', just long enough to break the news to his children. But it was late and had to go to his mother before he reached Cristina. At his age he was old enough to understand if something was wrong with a simple glance. And he did not want him to come to know the tragic news to others.

Feeling supported by legs more stable, ran up the stairs. This time he succeeded in establishing itself not to think about anything except what he had to do and not to daydream looking at the risk of running into a memory of Simon and another crisis. He reached the room quickly and without delay, Cristina opened the top drawer that came under fire. The scent of laundry washed and ironed it looked like the sound of a distant song in time and space, a song of someone who even knew what it meant happiness.

Do not waste time rummaging through the clothes. He took the first boss that came to hand, a white blouse, neatly folded and placed in the drawer, as was typical of Simon. She loved the order. But Robert did not have to think of her, was not to let that image of his wife that she was placing the clothes in their place, and the pluck ...

He closed the drawer with force, holding the eyelids to the noise. He discovered that he had worked for the time and had a clear head again. It led to the closet and opened a door after another, until he found where they were stored pants. Again he took a pair of jeans to the event. Cristina would have something else to think about, regardless of what she wore. Damn , he thought. How is all terribly unreal. Yet ...

A noise behind him made him jump. He spun around and yet he made time to work out a terrifying image. Projected in his mind he saw the figure of Simon, stood before him, leaning against the doorway of the room by Cristina, dressed in a white nightgown he had seen her wearing in the bed of the mortuary. The shirt was untouched, except for an eerie bloodstain at the belly.

When he turned around, saw nothing of this. But he found himself hoping the opposite. Behind him, the wall was gone and had left no room for an entire clearing surrounded by trees. At the center of the clearing was a pile of wood that was on fire, a fire. And on that pyre to burn alive Roberto saw a female figure, now almost completely engulfed in flames except the upper body. It distinguished blacks and their hair long, his face distorted by pain, which manifested itself even more in the face of his lips. And that woman with her arms tied behind his back around a pole that was supporting it, stared at him with eyes filled with anger and satisfaction.

It lasted a while but that was enough to tear a scream of terror Roberto. The came from the bowels of the mouth and exploded, spreading into the room, or perhaps because there was still that there had always been. He fell backwards and slammed his head heavily. Joined to the fear and pain sensation, a sound that seemed to come from far away and could not well defined.

He thought for a moment that it was the woman who was finally swallowed up by the fire and I nearly fainted when a really feminine face filled his vision, shouting even louder than it did him. He had just enough time to think it was over, that some monstrous ghost come from who knows where he had arrived to take him with him, first to distinguish clearly the first word: father .

Cristina above him, holding his head in his hands and screaming desperately. "Dad! Dad! What have you got? What happens? Dad! "He returned home and found the door open but no one waiting. Had increased, attracted by the noise had come from upstairs. It had not seemed to have maintained an absolute silence in climbing stairs. Yet, when my dad had turned, startled as if he had seen the devil himself. And she was terrified, and for a brief moment she became convinced that he got out of his head. "Dad," called out again, almost certain not to have been wrong.

There was definitely something wrong.

***

Slowly, Roberto found himself in control. He continued to remain silent for a while ', just to think about which words to use. He was fully aware that the time had come to tell the truth in advance, but after that sort of monstrous vision was struggling to re-order thoughts. We first asked whether what he had seen was the result of emotional stress or if the victim was in the same time giving the brain. In that case, a compassionate Cristina and even more for Matthias.

Then he put aside the unfortunate event and focused on his daughter. Both sat on the bed, in the dim light from the lamp on the ceiling. Cristina was visibly shocked.

"Scu ... I'm sorry, darling, "began Bob, wondering if she still had red eyes. But soon he realized that it was irrelevant anyway Cristina was to know. "You scared me, I have not heard ..."

"What happened, Dad," she persisted, showing that he understood that the problem was beyond his father's reaction when he saw her. "Tell me the truth: it is for grandma?"

Those words were a further blow for Roberto. Cristina had sensed something was wrong right away, I had seen talking to her on the phone. And apparently he thought, naturally enough, to her grandmother Isa. He could not even begin to imagine how much worse would the situation and Roberto came to feel guilty about having to be an ambassador of such a tremendous message. "No," replied sadly, eyes on his hands, who went to look for those of Cristina.

She felt the tears resumed. He felt a tremor in her daughter and raised her face toward her. Cristina was crying already, in silence, perhaps not one hundred percent sure that what he feared was true, but with little hope to the contrary. The shaking also the mouth, lips as if trying to say something too bad to be pronounced.

Robert took a deep breath, lowering his eyes again. "Mom," he whispered, his voice cracking. "My mother left us." And the last word was lost in a sob that served as prelude to a new outburst of tears. Smaller, quieter and more intimate, and for the worse. For a while, 'he found the strength to look into the eyes Cristina.
She continued to shake and cry and try to say something that not even she knew. He felt a strange sensation, indefinable. He knew he should feel crushed by despair, that he should even pass out, or see the surface of the sea of rippling waves wild life. But for the moment that he could not contemplate a writing in his mind, one written in large black letters on gray background saying, THE MOTHER IS DEAD.

Then she found herself thinking even more strange. He had heard of people in serious incidents of lost equity arms or legs without feeling, at first, no pain. He had never believed, but only at that moment he thought that it could be a total idiot. His amputation was psychological rather than physical, but he thought that the principle has not changed.

He noticed that his father looked. He wanted to do something, give him a sign that did understand that she had received the message. He also wanted to show some reaction to itself, so as not to doubt that the trauma he had compromised the brain function, but found he could do nothing but watch as a spectator made his body shake, tears, words left unsaid.

Roberto's eyes were swollen. Christina stared and wondered if you were to take that immobility as a good or a bad sign. Whatever it was, for the moment could not help but observe: he did not feel strong enough to console himself, let alone someone else. Even since his daughter. He could only nod his head slowly, as if to confirm to Cristina that if she was thinking the opposite, unfortunately it was all true.

And finally she seemed to thaw. "Right now," he hissed, and pressed his lips against each other to keep from crying.

Robert nodded again, not knowing what to answer. Then he had another vision, softer this time, nothing but a picture in the back of his mind. As if it was outside his body, he saw himself sitting on the bed next to Christina, the one with her hands in those of the other, both in the throes of tears which would not submit to further, not to succumb. Why were men, rational beings, that before the end could not wish for someone to finish them once, but had to convince yourself that you could go on exactly as before. Roberto saw that and thought it was just what he wanted Simon: she was always optimistic, always cheerful, and would not tolerate that their desperation is more protracted than necessary.

"We quarreled," he added shortly after Cristina, even in a low voice. He had difficulty speaking. It looked like a bomb about to explode, knowing that every word too would have accelerated the process. "We had a fight and we were not speaking any more."

Roberto briefly pondered on those words, believing that in fact she had noticed a coolness in the relationship between Simon and Cristina in recent days. But it was a fleeting thought, a reflex that died at birth. Because at that Cristina lost consciousness.

***

When Robert's father had died, ten years before, he and Simon had told Cristina that his grandfather had been taken to heaven. He always said so to the children and basically, for those who lived as Christians, there is much away from reality. It was a way to sweeten the medicine, to understand how it was not just an end but an end that marked the ' beginning of something else. Because the simple end is much more scary and not just for kids.

However, the hackneyed story had the desired effect and Cristina, who was then nine years, had accepted the death of his grandfather with attitude. She wept because she had been told that it would never see him again. But you can always talk had told her and he will hear you will be together in your heart to Jesus He was soon made a reason. He even cried during the funeral, especially in the wake of the despair of his parents and his grandmother, but from that day was serene. It took every opportunity to go with mom or dad to the cemetery, the "new house of his grandfather," as he called her.

Roberto had hoped that the speech says-the-death-to-your-child-child he was exhausted at that time, convinced that the day they were supposed to celebrate the funeral of his mother or his mother-in-law, because, quant 'God was true, were they the next to have to leave, Cristina was old enough to understand without explanation. But death had come sooner than expected and seemed to have chosen the wrong victim, why even the nineteen years of his daughter was not old enough to accept the tragedy.

After Christina had regained consciousness and was reassured - Roberto had exploited the valuable support offered by a few drops of Lexotan for both him and her - they had chosen together with a complete elegant Simona, of those who wore at important meetings in 'firm where he worked as an assistant and he had to do to bring it to the morgue. Both courses were in the hospital but had insisted that Robert Cristina waiting for him in the car while handing the clothes, then they thrill your home of Gisella, in tremendous delays. Matthias had welcomed them, running towards them with joyful eyes, except for a subtle shade of doubt.

Gisella had appeared behind him, who had thrown a meaningful look with their eyes swollen and red. He had to invent a cold not to destroy the little grandson of the first time.

"Where's Mom?" She asked him, who had waited patiently even though they had arrived well after the agreed time for dinner.

Roberto had accompanied him home, suffering like never before at the look of Matthias darkened. And while thinking of what words to use, for the first time he wondered if the story of the mother who had gone to heaven also worked well with him. Because he had no doubt that Simon Matthias harbored something far deeper than the bond that existed long ago between Cristina and her grandfather.

But at that moment he was not free to choose what to do. In that time could and should just tell the truth. The consequences would be assessed later, and that would be a further problem.

He had accompanied Matthew to the kitchen and sat down in front of him. His mother, Gisella had remained in the parlor and had formed strong Cristina, who could hardly contain himself despite drops of calming had assumed. They wept together, separated women from two generations, but victims of the same ancestral pain.

Robert had just started telling referring to his father. The expression of Matthias had become darker, then suddenly it was deformed into a form unrecognizable. It was when Roberto had come down to it, a phrase that still occupied the mind of Cristina 's mother is dead .

Matthias had burst into tears, but Roberto had been reached and had cuddled. "Be calm, my love," she had whispered, cradling it like when it was much smaller. "Cristina and I will always love you and we want to be as if my mother were still with us." The sobs of Matthias had opened a new hole in his heart. "We'll always be together, my star. We'll never let. "

But, hearing his words, it was found extremely false. can not be sure it was said. After what you have experienced today, can not be sure.

***

None of them had no desire to eat, and found no problem with the appointment rosary Gisella was fixed for nine o'clock that evening. After Matthias was partly recovered, showing a strength of mind that Bob would not have even imagined, Cristina had just enough time to shower and change. As his father had predicted, was merely a gesture of habit, and with an attempt not to give up normal, letting go of resignation. Because that was definitely the wrong way.

It was a little more than a quarter to nine when Robert remembered his mother-in-law Isa. "You go to church," he told his sons. "I'm going to take her grandmother Isa and I'll join you." They had nodded silently, watching blankly, unwilling protagonists of that film where no one wanted to talk.

Robert reached his car and drove toward Torvinaia, without pressing the accelerator more than they should. Suddenly seemed to see beyond the thin veil of reality, of custom, the infinite threats that threatened his life. That stone by the side of the road that could sway him, that truck in the oncoming lane that could collide with his car, the right front wheel had been replaced recently and that if he had not secured properly, could come off and get it out street: all enemies who had always been at his side, but which had never been circumspect. Now, however, the death of Simon seemed to have opened his eyes.

For some reason, however, Roberto suspected that he was allowed to see only temporarily, until he started to follow the usual track. Because, whatever happens, it is always there that you will return. The alternative is death or insanity.

Now aware that there would come to church late, when it was five minutes to nine he was knocking on the door of his mother-in-law. Replied the voice of Olga. "Yes?"

"It's me, Olga. I am Nick. "

"Oh, come, come!" She greeted him rushing to open the door. Came before him with his hair blacks gathered behind the head, to surround his face at all graceful. "I regret so much," she announced immediately, with sad eyes.

Roberto felt the need to cry again, but managed to hold back thinking it was late. It was one of the last meetings he had with Simon, after all, and did not want to miss. "Even I'm sorry, Olga. Isa is still awake? Why do we have to ... "

"Yes, yes, the name is ..." she began moving away, but Robert interrupted.

"No, bring it here, please. We have to go to church, it's late. "

"Oh, but she dressed badly. Must change it, "said Olga and Robert regretted to note that the expression of those words was similar to that of just before, when he said sorry for Simon.

"No, no, forget it. It's late, as it can be. Please. "He began to feel a slight headache and hoped it would remain so.

Olga sighed, but entered the apartment to get to Isa. Roberto was left standing at the door: for some strange reason did not feel like entering. A terrible thought lurked in the depths of his mind and reminded him that he had taken the responsibility of Simon when he married her, now she was dead and his mother lived in that apartment. Robert feared the reaction of Isa, was afraid of being accused of something he could not avoid, that nobody could have predicted. But nothing would have happened like that.

"Ah, no problem," Olga had informed him when he returned, bringing the arm body thin and marked by age of Isa. "From when I said Simona de, talk about it."

***

In the church of Santa Giulia there was a lot of people. Around had not yet been posted posters mortuary as Simona and Roberto had not had time nor desire to tell their acquaintances. The few ladies who were there were calls by Gisella, or were those strange women who were pouring into the church at all hours, any celebration it was, everyone was involved. How to go to the bar.

Don Mauro had received Gisella, Christina and Matthew with a slight smile, in the attempt to console them by sending them the certainty that he had in his heart and to which she devoted her life and that life was real Simona started right now . The priest had matted hair of Matthias, who had not even looked up, and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder of Cristina, who in turn had produced what was supposed to look like a smile. In fact it seemed a face and had her down as a result of the new tears.

"Can we start?" Whispered Don Mauro Gisella when the bells rang nine peals.

Gisella looked around. He saw Mary, the lady who had called that afternoon giving confirmation of his fears, and beside her sat Piera and Carmen, two other acquaintances, and just ahead Gisella three ladies who knew only by sight. In one of the benches in the back of the church was Antonio, the baker. Gisella had warned him not, but it was very likely that he had heard of the death of Simon, who every day went to buy bread from him.

"Yes, we'll start," said Don Mauro, knowing that that night they could not expect any more.

"E. .. her husband? "asked the priest.

"He's coming is going to take his mother-in-law. He said that we can begin. "

Don Mauro nodded and walked away paying another smile to Matthew and Cristina. He went to get ready in the sacristy, throwing the first look at an unlit candle on the altar.

Gisella grandchildren invited to sit in the front pew. He heard the bowels twist when he saw what condition was Matthias, his eyes wet, staring, always facing Earth. Cristina looked at assimilation, but in a stage very, very early. He could not blame them: she had spent the whole afternoon in tears.

They had just sat down and the priest had not yet ascended the altar, when the sound of footsteps echoed through the aisle. It all turned around and Gisella had expected to see Roberto and Isa, but found himself in front of a boy who did not have to have many more years of Cristina, quite tall and with his beard, dressed elegantly in black. He walked along the space between the pews and stare in the direction of Gisella, a sad look.

"He's your friend that?" Asked her to Cristina.

The girl, one of the few people not to turn around, turned around and gasped. For a moment he was just amazed, then turned to despair. See Daniel was very unexpected, sent him a message shortly after learning of the death of his mother, but never would have believed that he would come to the rosary.

At the same time, its presence was further confirmation that everything was not a nightmare, but the terrible reality. Every element of his "normal" life was a pinch that confirmed what had happened.

Daniel reached the bench where he sat his girlfriend. Gisella greeted with a sad Hail then shifted his gaze on Cristina and spoke to her eyes. In that instant, she felt that she loves him more than anything else, he felt that he could marry him and wished potergli run to meet and embrace him, to find support and comfort in his arms.

"Condolences" he whispered, while Matthias also had looked at him. It was the first time she saw him, the "boyfriend" of his sister. Not that Christine talked about it much, but sometimes had happened.

"How ... Why? "He asked in a voice choked Cristina. Do not want to seem rude, simply could not believe that demonstration of affection by his boy. After all you knew to be so little and Daniel had not seen that on one occasion Simona. Just a few days before. Just in time.

Too bad that there were days of hell began, because mom had immediately expressed his opposition to that report, they had quarreled and had not spoken more practically, if not to fight even harder. And now they would not talk anymore. If you had known, mother , Christine thought. If only you had imagined it would come here for you, that would make a gesture so cute ... I regret that I would be spared!

"I could not miss," said Daniel. "It was ... She was your mother. "

Few words discounted, but that opened the heart of Cristina. She cried again, wept much, and did not stop until Daniel was not sitting next to her and Don Mauro had not started the rosary.

***

For the rest of his life he would remember very vaguely Mattia that half hour or less of prayer for his mother. Mostly occupied his time thinking of her, instead of praying for her. It was more intimate, more familiar, more normal.

Before his eyes, turned to the church floor, ran several pictures of him and Simon. At night when tucked the blankets and wished him good night, the morning when, with her joking, not only convinced him to eat, but it made him really hungry, that day he had organized his birthday, when they spent hours between the kitchen and the garden, to prepare cakes and preparing the table, where every afternoon waiting for him outside the school, except for that one occasion, the occasion when he could not come because she had gone to heaven.

He alternated between moments of pure nostalgia to others in which he could not refrain from smiling with my heart, moments which seemed to prevail in the acceptance, to others when he felt unable to stand without screaming and jumping to the ground and tearing his hair.

Not remembered almost nothing of that half hour, but was always well in my mind the figure of her grandmother Isa who entered the church accompanied by his father and his foreign aide. That figure, which was the mother of his mother, but who, despite having just lost a daughter, not crying and did not show sadness in the face: the usual eyes lost in space, the usual wrinkled and dry , as he called it.

It had got to wonder what could make someone cry, even if the death of a dear he was able. When he exposed the problem, long after, his father had explained Isa, explaining that when Matthew was very old may also happen not to understand certain things, do not behave exactly normal. But this explanation would never think of everything.

Not remembered almost nothing of that half hour, but he never forgave the "boyfriend" Cristina, who was smiling, really smiling, while others wept and prayed. Matthias had turned, she saw her sister with her head down and hands clasped, had seen her grandmother Gisella with eyes closed and lips moving rapidly, she saw her father wipe his eyes with his handkerchief, and even the assistant foreign her grandmother Isa sorry more than you would expect from her.

But Gisella between Cristina and Daniel sat, his back erect, her face turned in front, in an attitude almost proud. And she laughed, a big smile showing his white teeth in that bearded faces, as if he were watching a comedy. No one had noticed, even the priest, but Mattia had discovered.

She watched him with all the hate he could muster, but Daniel did not even noticed. He continued to laugh Blessed, out of place as a crucifix in a pigsty. Until Matthias returned to his thoughts, intimate dialogue with his mother, promising, however, that never would have forgiven the "boyfriend" of his sister. Never, no matter what happened.

***

After Mass, Roberto approached Daniel and Cristina. Her eyes were bright, but he was trying to talk while keeping a certain demeanor. He was facing and was limited mostly to listen in silence. Robert Mattia followed, remaining at his side, the serious look to Daniel.

"You've got to be Cristina's boyfriend," she said when she was behind him. He felt comfortable at the time: he was granted a reprieve and thought essersela more than deserved.

Daniel spun around, but also Cristina lifted her face to see his father. She blushed quickly.

"Yes," he said. She pulled up the nose. "And this is my dad," she added, turning to Daniel.

"Nice to meet you" Roberto greeted him, offering him her hand. Matthias looked as if clutching a gun. "It's the first time we meet."

"A pleasure," replied the boy, shaking his hand. His grip was firm and strong shock, which confirmed his impression that Roberto Daniele was anything but embarrassed, as often happened. He had been uncomfortable in the first occasions on which he met the parents of Simon. "Yes, I came to your house three or four days ago, but she was not there. I regret that now ... "

"Yeah, I was in school," recalled Robert, a hint of a smile and leaving the hand of Daniel. "My wife told me about you." And for no good added mentally, recalling the night when Simon expressed his opposition to the relationship of Cristina. He had not indulged much more than that, knowing that at nineteen her daughter had every right to experience and take also of the crabs, if necessary. It was life.

"Oh, well," Daniel said, smiling. "It is ... It is a shame. I'm sorry for this tragedy. "She did not put to him all'occhiataccia Matthias or perhaps pretended not realizing it.

"Yeah," agreed Bob. "Yeah." And those words hung in the air, the silence of the church, which suddenly seemed to fall gloomy atmosphere. "Well, we go" said Roberto, noting that there was not much to say. "If you want to stay here, go ahead," said Cristina. "We will expect from his grandmother. But do not be late. "

"No, no, I'll be right. The greeting and arrival. "

"Sure, I'm going now," added Daniel. "Otherwise it's getting late. I ... "

"You have done much to please us all," interrupted Robert. "Thank you so much for coming. You're a good boy. "And he wondered how he managed to find it so unbearable Simona after seeing him on Friday afternoon.

"Oh, thanks," Daniel almost stammered, while next to him Cristina blushed even more.

But Matthias saw something else. He read in the eyes of the boy that went beyond a feeling of gratitude and emotion. He seemed to see a cheerfulness that was barely contained, as if Daniel was trying to restrain himself from bursting out laughing crazy. Matthew saw the same expression on his classmate Stephen, the bully of the moment, assumed when he taunted him. And once again he did not like.

"Well, come on," Roberto said goodbye. "Come, Matthias."

"See you in a while ', Dad," said Christina as she walked away. And in his eyes you could read a new emotion for the first time that day sad sincere love towards his father, who in a few words had given its approval to the story with Daniel, for which Simon had instead used only words of fire.

***

"Dad, I can tell you a secret?" Said Matthias when they were outside. Robert held her hand, which felt that the close was made stronger.

"Tell me, darling. Tell me everything, "he said, stopping and bending over to get his face to his height. He perceived in a particular shade and tone of voice was beginning to worry: he had not forgotten that Matthias was perhaps the most at risk of psychological fallout after the death of Simon.

For a while the boy seemed to have changed his mind. Actually was wondering if it was the right thing to tell Dad what he saw. It was almost certain not to be mistaken, but, after witnessing the demonstration of affection against Roberto Daniele, afraid to combine a mess. And to hurt Cristina, above.

For him to make a decision reached another mental image of her mother. Simon smiled, as only she could do. Then he approached and embraced him, squeezing tightly and filling it with kisses. She often did. And Matthew remembered the feeling when she kissed him on the ears, the loud crack and the thrill that ran along the back.

His mother was gone, no longer would have hugged and kissed. And in the evening when people prayed or thought to remember it, Daniel had had the courage to laugh. Amused . Matthias could not swallow a mouthful so bitter.

"I saw him laugh," he said tersely. He could not fix his father as he spoke.

"Who?" Asked Roberto worried. The laid her hands on her shoulders. "Who laughed?"

"The boyfriend of Christina," he said. "While the priest spoke, I turned and he was laughing." Without warning, tears began again to flow. "It's not just," she sobbed.

Robert was impressed. No one would ever expect such words from Matthew, not now. You thought your problems were very different, but apparently was not well versed in child psychology. "I ... do not know, "he said, looking around as if searching for the best explanation fits. "Maybe ..."

"No, I was not wrong, I did well," almost shrieked Matthias.

"Calm, calm, do not say this. Except that maybe it was a face or maybe you thought it was just a smile but ... I do not know. "It actually did not find any explanation, except that Matthew wanted to find a scapegoat, someone to download it after her sadness into anger. Not much different from what he had done himself few hours before, had to be convinced that the accident was caused by some careless pedestrian or cyclist. "Listen, if it was, nothing happens. So it's not married to Cristina! You'll see that it's not a nice guy she leaves him. "

"But I do not like," declared Matthew wiping his nose.

"Excellent," said Roberto. "But please try not to tell Cristina, okay, champ?" The ruffled hair and smiled. Matthew nodded and was a reassuring sign.

However, some of Roberto was already looking with some concern that Simon had done nothing but repeat for days that the boy did not like.

***

It was nearly twenty-three, when Robert, Matthew and Cristina returned home. They had stopped for half an hour at the home of Gisella, along with Isa and Olga. They had talked sadly, looking as possible to avoid the subject Simona, but ricadendoci punctually.

Above all, they had made a thousand efforts to wrest a single word, a single reaction Isa, without success. She sat motionless, blankly, absent, as if it were somewhere else, in quite different circumstances. Christina and Matthew, who always managed to make inroads into her heart, had tried to get her to talk, but even they had turned away from that its been almost plant. Eventually we were tired and had given up. Everyone was hoping that was a problem passenger, just enough time to metabolize the condolences.

When he was starting to get late, Roberto refused the invitation of his mother to stay overnight at his house. She had loaded her children into the car, his mother-in-law and Olga, and had accompanied the two women at home. Then they were rincasati, Matthias for the first time since that morning, when Simon had accompanied him to school. The memory made him cry again.

Before going to sleep, Roberto had called her children in the kitchen. The normalcy that prevailed in that, as in the rest of the house, unbearably out of tune with the fact that they were only three. But he had to pull themselves together and convince themselves not to let go: Simona was gone and he must also play its role. However, he was aware that their lives would never be the same.

"We are all tired," he began, not knowing exactly what he said. He knew only that it was necessary to speak, to see Matthew and Cristina that he was present and that they could always rely on their father. "It was a very bad day, the worst of our lives. Maybe tomorrow will be worse and maybe tomorrow will be even more, but we must be strong. "

Matthias looked at him with shining eyes, Cristina listened to him trying to restrain himself. His focus shifted from one part of the kitchen, creating thoughts similar to those of Robert.

"I am with you always, whenever you need, okay? But you also need help. We must help us, if we go forward. Because ... "He had to stop, because he started crying again. Everything continued to seem impossible. "Because my mother would like that."

He had fainted. He put a hand to his forehead and lost his balance. Christina ran towards him, but fortunately he had found a foothold in the back of a chair. "Papa," cried Mattia scared.

"It's okay," he said to pacify them but felt it was not at all true. Frames were running before the eyes of that day and he thought would tell a story lasting years. "We go to sleep. We try to sleep. And tomorrow we're going to visit his mother in the hospital. "

Christina opened her eyes and stepped back. "How?" He asked. She had not expected to have to look at the corpse of his mother, especially not believed to be able to.

"We will go to the hospital," agreed Bob. "And at the cost of endeavor, I'd say a last goodbye to her mother is due." Rarely had given orders to his sons, but the tone of his voice suggested that he was one of those occasions.

Cristina said no more, but remained shaken. Said good night and went slowly upstairs.

"And you, child?" Asked Robert to Mattia. "Do not go to sleep?"

"I miss my mother," she said candidly.

"Me too, man. So much. But she will sleep with us tonight. His soul will always be here. We must be happy, right? "

"A little '," said Matthias. Then he turned and reached his room. Robert watched him, wondering what they ever did to deserve that pain.

He could find no answer and after a few minutes left in the bedroom she had shared for twenty years with Simona. Sleep was very difficult: the bed seemed too empty. And he reflected on how long the mattress was likely to become in the emblem of the rest of his life: an empty life.

Eventually exhaustion prevailed and that terrible day was over.

***

During the night Robert saw something, but do not remember anything the next day.

***

The next day was that of phone calls and commitments. Roberto got up early, at seven, after a sleep anything but restful. He had slept badly and woke up with a sense of malaise that seemed to come only from the events of the afternoon before but something happened during the night. Sometimes he, at times, and comforted him by telling him that Simon had probably had a bad nightmare that you had forgotten. With that memory, it was as if she were still there.

Moving from room downstairs, half asleep, he felt sore, as if it were fresh from a bloody battle lasting a few days. He wished to clear your mind and heart, even for a few minutes, to restore his body, giving him a chance to really relax. But he knew that was impossible and that it was useless to waste time with vain hopes. He was still in the eye of the storm and had to be patient.

The first phone call, her voice still slurred by sleep, he was the secretary of the school. Roberto explained briefly his tragedy to the secretary, the more saddened that bored, which recorded without any participation by the news that Professor Santoni would be missing from school for a few days. "I shall tell, sir. Many condolences, "she said in the same tone with which he could show a guy what modules to fill the request for a scholarship.

After hanging up, Robert found perhaps a wise arranged. Very quietly, to avoid waking up Matthias and Christina, to prolong their dreams that he wished to be happy, went to the bathroom to wash. There was a shower the day before and feel clean again was an indescribable feeling, as if the water had taken it with him even more black layer of dirt, that's blocking the heart from the moment he saw the wrecked car of Simona.

After half an hour on the phone again. The previous evening, while handing over the hospital's clothes Simona, he was asked to appoint an agency to begin funeral practices. He had to use the list to find the telephone number of the one he had chosen. The thought that he was turning the pages looking for just that number was both painful and unreal. If you added that he needed it to Simon, then it became unbearable.

He finally found the address and was able to talk with a gentleman from doing gentle voice set the tone of polite people used to talk to people. And with people in despair, for more. They agreed on what to write on posters and Roberto felt a meager satisfaction when he learned that they would be posted already that morning, from there a few hours. He wanted everyone to know that as soon as a woman was missing an angel. And if the funeral had been attended by many people, that would be a wonderful gift for Simon, as well as he and his sons.

Before you close the phone, Roberto made an appointment for the choice of cash. At first it seemed a particularly irrelevant, almost disrespectful, as if in a situation like the real problem was to choose between a wood and another. Then came the realization that she could do that was so that he was traveling. And anyway, if you had the chance to avert his attention from the drama, it could not harm him.

The last call was to his mother, Gisella. He was not surprised to find her already awake, much less to hear it cry. She was cold and cynical at first, but under a hard shell struck a sensitive heart. A heart like that of Robert. He asked if he could come home and stay with the kids while he went to the funeral home. She obviously had no problems. In that moment of pain, the individual needs had ceased and all acted with a common purpose, in memory of Simon.

***

The owner of the funeral home, Cabrini, was a fine fellow, about forty, very high. He wore a pair of jeans and a light beige short-sleeved shirt, a dress that at first he wondered Roberto. It was created in the mind the figure of an "undertaker" ideal, low, hunched, looking grim and clothing strictly blacks, but evidently his fantasy was to adjourn. Modernize.

Mr. Cabrini had a way, had the touch. He spoke quietly and never more than necessary, made a few targeted questions and repeated them without losing it when Robert was distracted by trying the desire to cry. She showed him some coffins and described the features, but without dwelling too much and without getting caught by her tone from any vendor. He was very respectful of him and Roberto was deeply grateful.

When they had finished it was nearly nine. They sat at a desk in Mr. Cabrini and agreed terms of payment. Roberto tried to keep the attention, not so much afraid of being cheated, as to not make a fool of boiled fish. Not that it was unjustified, but he preferred not to force even the gentleman to repeat itself.

"So, we partiremmo hospital tomorrow around two?" Churches now.

Roberto was about to confirm, since the funeral was scheduled for three o'clock, when his attention was drawn to the shirt pocket of Cabrini. Suddenly it was illuminated with a light green glow.

Roberto was scared, then felt stupid, then he was seized with anxiety.

He was scared because his mind, felt the pain and fatigue and short of rationality, the flashed before his eyes the image of that distinguished and kind that was pierced by a huge pressure on the inside, caused by the same force that emanated that green light.

She felt stupid, a moment later, when the grim fantasy gave way to the obvious explanation. The light was caused by the display of a phone that was ringing and he probably Cabrini had removed the ring.

Finally he was seized with anxiety because the color reminded him of something. He could not explain what it was, nor when they had to do, but the feeling that it derived was unpleasant. It was like hearing a taste with the tongue and fail to associate it with anything, if not to his wickedness.

"Mr. Santoni?" He called Cabrini. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," said Roberto recovering, but it was not true.

***

At half past nine Roberto went home. His mother had tidied the living room and kitchen, but had not canceled the message left by Simon on the slate. What he did on purpose or not, it was better that way.

The churches of the boys and Gisella responded that they were in their rooms to sleep. Roberto took note of it but he suspected that in reality they were now wide awake, in company with their nostalgic memories. He decided to leave them alone.

In the two hours that followed, the phone became hot. At first she said Gisella, who then passed the phone to Bob. When it became clear that the trend appeared, he sat in his chair, with the cordless phone next to her as a receptionist.

They called all their friends Torvinaia Cadiceto and, from those with whom they often went out to those who barely remembered to know. Many relatives of Parma Simon phoned to ask if it was true the tragic news. They said that he had learned from the newspapers or other relatives, and expressed their sympathy and their sorrow, because for a long time they had paid a visit to Simon when he was still alive. There were aunts who praised the beauty and intelligence, others who could not make sense because that sentence was taken from tears, and others that inquired about how to get to the hospital or the church for the funeral. Then came the work colleagues of Simon, the day before we were surprised not to see her coming, she was always so punctual. He called a few high school teacher Roberto and some mother of Matthew's classmates.

So while the news spread through the voices and the posters hanging around, all those who had known Simon felt the need to give a sign to say a word. Someone did it to comfort Bob, someone else not to appear rude and disinterested, some because they had a guilty conscience against Simona and hoped this would purify it. Only a phone call differed from the others.

Roberto had given up hope of receiving reports from people on the scene and was resigned to the dynamics suggested by Marshal Mortini. A tragic fate, as was said on those occasions. Then came that phone call.

The small screen of the phone indicating that came from a number with the prefix of the province of Parma, 0521. Roberto surprised if they do not: they had already called several relatives of Simon with the same prefix. After all, she was raised in that city and its roots were still there. "Hello?" He said, expecting to get to know some new aunt.

On the other end of the phone, however, never got anything more than a sigh. It was enough to try to make Robert a thrill. There was a gasp, more like someone took the effort to breath to speak, but continually desist.

"Hello?" He asked again, raising his voice. "Who speaks?"

For a while the sighing continued. Then, just as Robert was adirando hung up and thought, through the handset came a female voice distant, faint, almost a moan. "I ... I have known it, "he said.

Roberto felt the sadness and anxiety in the tone of his voice and imagined this could be a relative very, very old. "Madam?" Asked, enunciating the word well, with the same attitude with which he addressed to his mother-in-law Isa. "Madam, you know Simon?"

On the other hand, another pause. New sigh, this time accompanied by a few hiccups. "Lei. .." spat out his voice, as if the word was more bitter than ever was given. "He killed that."

Roberto sprang to his feet. She felt something snap inside, an alarm, a reminder to all parts of his body to be careful. He squeezed harder without realizing it took the phone and talking in low voices. "Who?" He asked. "Who killed her? She has seen something? "

The lady who had called was now in the throes of a wrenching cry. Maybe he was talking about, but between a sob and the other did not distinguish any words. "It was him," Roberto finally caught.

" He who? "he asked impatiently, already feeling the anger that was inside him and that, as soon as he learned the name of that expected, could make him commit any act.

The woman was still crying and continued a long time before finding the strength to speak. "God forgive me," he said. "To me that is the devil!"

For a moment Robert was visibly shaken and felt the guts shriveled. Then he found the reason and tried to hold back the fury that threatened to explode but against that Harty had chosen the wrong day. "I do not seem the case," he said, with a calmness that surprised even himself. "At a time like this, it does not seem appropriate to make jokes."

While hang up, he heard screams come from the new receiver, but did not care. She sank against the chair and let the heart beat returned to a normal mode and that the circulation riportasse color to his face ashen.

***

That afternoon, shortly after two, Roberto and Mattia Cristina brought to visit the body of Simon. Toward noon he had tried to force both to eat something, but to no avail. Not if you had taken more time and had left them to their rooms, where, as predicted, had already spent the whole morning to reflect and mourn in silence.

But around one and a half, after answering a couple of calls from relatives of Simon, had joined her children in their rooms and had invited them to prepare for reaching the hospital. His tone was that of the previous evening, calm and at the same time authoritative.

Matthias had reacted happily to the news. "Yes, we're going to Mama," he said. "I really want to see it again." Roberto hug him and kissed him on the forehead, wondering how he would change the mood of the child when he would be in front of the coffin.

Cristina, however, had tried to put up a feeble resistance. "Do we really have, Dad?"

"It's the least we can do. It's your mom. It's the last time you see it. I'd say he deserves it. "

"I do not say that," he replied with a grin. "You do not know if I can ... to resist. I'm not used. I do not want to risk ... "

"I'm not asking to stay all afternoon to fix it" had interrupted Roberto, sitting beside her, one arm resting them on his shoulders. "Just look, say hello, a thought. Because if you do it now, you can not do it anymore. And one day you may feel a great remorse. Be patient, made efforts for a moment and then you'll feel better. "

"But I already know that as a desperate cry," she cried, beginning to cry ever since. "I ... I ... "

"Be quiet," he told Roberto embraced. He had heard that Christina's tears moistened the shirt at the shoulder. He thanked heaven that day that his morale was slightly more positive, perhaps because he realized that the task to be near his children at a time so hard not to admit weaknesses and distractions. He had to be careful or he would have lost. He later had time to fully enjoy the pain of a widower.

So they arrived at the hospital. As they followed the directions to the mortuary, Matthias walked in front of his father and sister, looking right and left in search of the right corridor. Roberto could not interpret his haste and hoped that it meant nothing negative psychological.

Finally they reached the room where the agency Cabrini had already prepared the funeral. It was a narrow space, made even uglier by the awareness of the use to which it was used. The walls had they been white once, but now they were dirty, full of blacks and signs of water stains on the corners. From the ceiling came the dim light of two neon lamps. There were no windows and that one source of artificial light that gave the place a uncomfortably unnatural.

Behind a Wall, to the left of the entrance door, there was a coffin lying on a trolley. Inside, lying on a velvet jacket, rested for eternity an elderly gentleman, hands clasped on his stomach to make a rosary. Upon entering, Mattia threw a curious glance. When Robert joined him and realized he was staring at the corpse, took it back. "Do not look well," he whispered. "It is not good." And Matthias listened, diverting his attention by Mr. Renzo Ten - the name that was resting next to the picture inside the coffin - to turn it toward the opposite side of the room.

Simon was wearing his dress, a gray suit with a white silk blouse. Lying in his coffin of dark wood, with the clean face on which there was only a few scratches to remember his tragic death, he conveyed a sense of eternal peace. His hands clutched a braided necklace with a small crucifix. Next to the chest, leaning against the wall, the cover was that the day after he sealed forever. There hung the photograph that Robert had brought that morning to Mr. Cabrini. Just below, the dramatic writing

Simona Sacchi

30/01/1965 N - M 30/05/2006

"Here," announced Bob, with a faint voice.

Matthew walked slowly, his arms stiff at his sides. "Mom," she murmured in a strangled voice.

He reached the side of the coffin. With her head barely came to surpass the edge and almost saw only the face of Simon. He stood for a moment, his back against his father, observing the body of the deceased person who was most beloved even in his short life. Then he turned to Robert. "How beautiful," he remarked, with his eyes watering with rain.

"Yes," said Roberto, crying in turn. His face was a devastated battlefield. "It's beautiful."

It led to his son and took him in her arms. She held it up and allowed him to watch from his mother, to see what remained of Simona who had grown up with so much love and would give his soul just to watch it grow. That woman, who had moved up to rejoice after hearing him utter the first word and would continue to react the same way at every milestone of her small child, just as it did with Christina, she was gone. The body lying in the pile was not an empty shell, a memory of something much bigger that maybe he was watching from above, from the realm where the souls of the wonderful people like you would spend eternity.

Only a few minutes later Roberto saw that Cristina was lacking. He turned and saw her outside the room. They stared with bloodshot eyes, the expression of those destroyed was fighting an inner war against itself. His eyes spoke to her and begged Robert to spare her the torment of having the opportunity to remember Simon for what was to be alive and not for what was left.

"Come, darling," her father called her. While Matthias was watching and hoping with all my heart that they would reach. He needs them to catch up, in order to feel the embrace of his family together, his new family. "Take heart, come. Just a minute. "

And Cristina gave up, knowing that there was no way to escape all'incombenza. Took the first steps towards the back of the room, without looking to his left, where lay Mr. Ten. He kept his eyes on the ground and repeated that it would be nothing impossible, that was enough to think that his mother was asleep, he had to dismiss the idea that it was actually dead.

As a living nightmare from which he could not wake up, joined his father and brother. "There you are," she heard a voice that seemed very far away, from another life. "There you are, darling. You'll see that she will appreciate it. "

Cristina looked up and saw Simon.

At first did not react in any way, as if his attention had not yet focused. Then, while the little voice that he had recommended to think that Simon was sleeping seemed to be plunged into a chasm of his conscience, he felt came a feeling that exceeded that of an infinite number of times until that day had called pain. Perceived it as something material, a fluid that took hold of her, a herd of horses galloped furiously from his heart and reached every inch of her body, a lethal shock to her nervous system was crazy.

It exploded before the tears, trying to lift it from the intolerable burden, reminded those negative thoughts had turned to his mother in those last days. Simon had tried to forbid her to see Daniel, had described him as a sex offender despite having just met you and Cristina was filled with hate and negativity towards her. She, who had left just before things would settle down and have the opportunity to ask forgiveness from each other, to repeat that in the end is always good and always wished he would have wanted. It was probably the purpose of the conversation that Simon had planned with his last text message, the previous morning.

"I can not do," he said with difficulty, feeling heavy eyes and head turning. Then, under the astonished eyes of Roberto and Mattia, fainted.

***

That evening, more people attended the rosary. The echo of the tragic news was transmitted from mouth to mouth in the country, while a couple of newspaper articles and posters funeral had done the rest. Roberto and Cristina were held long before the church after the end of the meeting: an infinite number of distant relatives, friends and acquaintances were literally queuing up to offer their condolences, leave a thought, to show their closeness.

Cristina was moved at seeing all his former classmates from high school and even a couple of guys. The friends had formed a circle including herself, as a chain with which to transmit their force, and had listened, letting sfogasse his pain, trying to give her advice and promising maximum availability in case she needs company.

Robert was grateful to all those who dedicated a thought, a prayer, a hug. It was like being lifted from the abyss into which he had sunk, how to be recovered by imposing arms generated by love of the people. It was a painful moment in a way unthinkable, however, noted with deep satisfaction that Simon had left its mark. He lived intensely, had created deep bonds and deserved that participation.

Only Matthias found himself isolated in his grief. He moved silently from her father to her grandmother Gisella, she agreed to speak to a group of elderly ladies, bewildered. He was catapulted into a new situation in spite of himself, terrible, that a child should never have to experience. He did not know what to do, what to say. Watched the people who participated with their grief, weeping as if she were to die them, his mother, and did not understand what they wanted. Only wanted to go home with his father and sister and live with them the pain, in the privacy of their home, because that was a private matter.

Nonna Gisella, at one point, she turned to him and had shaggy hair, still talking with the other ladies. "Poor soul," he commented, while his old friend, Matthias looked with sad expression and shook his head, his hands folded in her lap at the height of an attitude of deep sorrow and contrition. He straightened his hair and said she and the other with a dark look, frowning. "Let's go home now," said Gisella.

"No, waiting for Daddy," he said.

"Yes, dear, all right," agreed her grandmother.

"But yes, Gisella, so now," said the old lady. "Let me stay here, now will be confused, in need of his father, poor man." And began to speak, ignoring Matthias, who moved back with her father.

***

"Tomorrow will be a terrible day. The worst, perhaps, I hope that after things get better, but ... Tomorrow will be tough. "

Roberto had briefly rallied the children that evening, before letting them go to sleep. He was tired beyond belief and yet doubt of being able to sleep easily, unless you still use a few drops of calming. "Take a good rest, and brace yourself. La. .. Mom is close to us. " The tears turned the last sentence in a falsetto that grew up to break his tone of voice.

"I love you, Dad" Matthew assured him, running up to him and hugging him. Roberto embraced him, appoggiandogli hand on my head and stroking. With the other he motioned to Cristina, stood on the sidelines, to join him. When she approached, put his arm around her shoulders and she let herself go against his chest, exploding in a new outburst of tears.

"It's too hard, Daddy," she sobbed. "It's too unfair."

"I know, darling, I know," Robert tried to calm her. "But it happened to us and ..." He could not go beyond them, his eyes fell on a photograph of their entire family, taken at Lake Garda a few years earlier, and the longing and the pain and took the strength to speak.

"I love you too," added Cristina, echoing the words of his brother. She pulled away from his father, wiping his eyes and trying to find some 'self-control.

"Go to sleep now," Robert invited them. "And if something is wrong, call me."

Cristina turned and reached the stairs, while Matthias clung to her father. But she could not resist as well, did not want to watch that scene for a second longer. Dad was destroyed, as was aged ten years: the beard, the deep eye sockets, his face furrowed with wrinkles that seemed new, excavated from the pain. He wondered how long he had to pass before you can review the Roberto ever and especially if that day would never come. And sorry for Matthias, who was only eight years and had to bear that accident from which even she, who was an adult, was in danger of being crushed and marked for the rest of his days. But his brother was demonstrating an astonishing maturity.

Before wearing the pajamas and bedtime, Cristina reached the bathroom. He closed the door, a habit which he could do without, because at home they were all very discreet. He lowered his jeans and took off her panties, looking at them looking for spots of blood. Nothing. There was nothing to worry about at the time, was only a delay of three or four days and had already happened before. Actually, the profound shock of which he was the victim surely would have prolonged the delay or could even blew her period for that month. He had read that it was possible.

However, he would have preferred to find things in the right place. It was thought unnecessary add-in after what had happened. He was always careful with Daniel, he wanted to do it without a condom and she gave it to him, provided that at the last moment to come out. He knew that tiny secretions could still precede the final ejaculation, but would serve a huge bad luck because those little droplets appeared sufficient to become pregnant. And then, could remember the days at risk had not had sex.

Peed and dressed again, not entirely convinced, with the cursed seed of doubt remained on alert in the back of his mind. All we need is this thought. And then he reflected that if she really was pregnant, would not be much of a problem communicating with the relatives - her grandmother Gisella maybe I did not have premarital sex ever conceived - as having to deal with itself and with the speech that the mother had done before Their last fight.

"I pee" warned the Mattia from behind the door, and that was enough to dissuade her from her thoughts.

***

"Love? Wake up. "Robert sat on the edge of the bed of Matthias and caressed him tenderly to make it less traumatic awakening. It was only seven, but the morning was very busy and had to prepare as soon as possible. Also, and above all, psychologically.

"Dad," said the boy, opening his eyes with difficulty and devoting a great smile. "Dad! I dreamed my mother! "Her voice was crystal clear, even though it had just emerged from a deep sleep, and expressed a sincere joy that was another stab of pain for Roberto.

"Well, I'm glad it's come to see you. I told you that there will always be near. "

"It was a kind of forest and seemed so glad to see me. Although I was happy, I wanted to hug her but I could not go because it was just a dream. "A shadow of sadness clouded her little face. "But you told me many things, although I know that I do not remember them all. He said he loved me, who loved everyone and that we must do good and do not get angry. "

Robert nodded and began to cry silently. He tried to smile so as not to suffer Matthias, but it was hard as a rock move.

"He said also to be careful not to go the way he did her good to look around. To me it meant that I have to look twice before crossing the road, the car because I do not have one yet. "

"Yes, definitely wanted to say that," confirmed Robert, struck by the story of the child. They could also be re-workings of what he had seen and heard during those terrible days, but that last recommendation Simona appeared as a real warning, a message with which his soul would warn them against something or someone. But it was easy to indulge in thoughts like that in the state of mind where he was, so he decided not to give excessive weight to the thing.

"And finally I remember it was you come near me and take me in his arms, as he did when I was crying. He shook strong and gave me many basins. "He paused, his eyes staring at the enchanted aspect of the sheets, as if lost in the recollection of the dream. "Dad, guess what, he said, raising his head to Roberto.

"What?" He humored him, while a strange feeling, like a deja-vu , he took possession of him.

"To me it seemed just like a dream. It was as if my mother was really there, I could hear his voice when he spoke, and your hands warm when I took her up. Even tickled that I did when my hair touched his cheek. "

Robert sighed and pulled him, clutched him to her breast. "You know what I think? You're right. Sometimes ... sometimes dreams are just dreams, but as they become ... a passage, a door. Like television. And people who are gone, you can not stay here with us, because Jesus has willed in heaven, when they want to speak to do so just come in our dreams. So it is as if they were still here. "She wanted to believe those words, and partly succeeded, but he realized how rationality does not concede him the way.

"Then I see my mother every night?" Matthias asked, letting go the first tears of that terrible day. "So I will not miss."

"It's not so easy, love. Unfortunately ... Unfortunately we have taken away and we farcene a reason, but ... "She pushed him away from him, held him firmly by the shoulders and stared at him. "Look me in the eye. I'm sure, a hundred percent sure, that the mother will find you and Cristina, and whenever I can. Especially on days where you miss the most, where you feel most alone. You'll see. Because I wanted too well, he loved us all and would never want to see us suffer. "He hoped that Matthias did not take his words as absolute truth, because that would have caused a strong yet another disappointment and suffering. But by the time they had had the effect to calm him smiling.

"Now dressed, while I'm Cristina," he said, then got out of bed and started to leave the room. The feeling of a moment before had taken shape. It was the story of Matthias to provoke it, because he remembered having dreamed Roberto Cristina too. There was nothing left in the memory, no place, no color, no sound and no word, if not the detail that the protagonist of the dream was really his wife.

***

Worst of the funeral which had never taken part, that of his wife prematurely snatched from life by an inexplicable car accident, Roberto would remember few details, but among these the first place would be occupied by the emotion he felt when, turning over function, he saw people in the eye, crammed into every corner of the Free Church of Santa Giulia and externally, to defy the scorching heat that had not even deigned to lessen respect for the soul of good Simona.

There was nothing to cheer about, but still imagined that if there was a remote possibility that something after death continue to exist, what remained of Simona would be happy to attend such a show of affection. And what Robert had always wanted for her, every day of their life together was happiness, feeling that even if it was wished longer by his side. Because he loved her and would always love her, until one day they would be reunited, perhaps, to sing together again, hand in hand in the streets beyond.

For the rest, the terrible moments of the funeral would be reduced to slides, brief flashes of memory, and would be good. Cristina, at the coffin into the church, he was slumped against the back of their bench, burying her face in her handkerchief in her hand. Matthias who hugged his hand and that of his grandmother Gisella from beginning to end, increasing the grip when the tears were circumventing its resistance efforts. The parish priest who, in spite of them knew very well, during the homily is not never named the name of Simon, merely generic speeches, empty, standardized on the real life after a brief transit in the world, the light that would have provided for all eternity , the impossibility of finding rational explanations for such tragic events, words that would go well even if it was an uncle who died in the fourth degree of Roberto. The procession to the cemetery path arm in arm and Mattia Cristina, one crushed by despair and the other reinforced the belief that the posting would not be absolute, not after he experienced the power of dreams. And farewell to his wife, a whole part of himself with both hands resting on the cool wood of the coffin, as to be able to take the life energy he had left the body of Simon, as to want to absorb last breaths of life to carry it in his heart would break, and do not let the pain.

They stayed at the cemetery until the last of acquaintances had gone. They had a thousand people greeted and received one thousand hugs, but all three had before their eyes the image of the dark earth that was thrown on the coffin of Simona to cover it, a heavy blanket of oblivion that would be with her into eternity or nothing.

***

"Robert?"

They were still at the cemetery, Roberto and Cristina silently staring at the mound of damp earth that marked the place of eternal rest of Simon, and Matthias Gisella next to her grandmother, a little farther on, talking softly with the pastor. Isa and her nanny Olga had already been transported back home from an acquaintance of the mother-in-law Robert had seemed absent during the entire celebration, as he realized what was happening and where it was. She was sick for years, but in three days he had had a relapse impressive.

The speaker was a woman of about forty, very dark hair that fell to the base of the neck by covering part of the face, visibly dirty and unappealing. His eyes were hidden by sunglasses with huge lenses that made it unrecognizable, provided that Roberto had never seen before, something which he doubted.

"Yes," replied, his voice proved by long weeping, which only now, over the terrible rite of Simona and after seeing dozens of people, had found a temporary truce.

"I am ..." muttered one. "I do not know, my name is Erika" showed up, looking down despite the glasses would allow it to speak without having to stare at Robert's eyes. "I was a friend of Simon, the ..." he smiled, embarrassed, "... the best friend, if I may say so."

Robert nodded without comment. Erika could not remember any, or to have met her in person, nor heard of it by Simona. Beyond this, Erika gave the impression of being a woman very shabby and emaciated, as the victim of a deep mental breakdown. He wore corduroy trousers that put clear emphasis on the dryness of the legs, which made the pair the two skeletal arms coming out from the sleeves of her blouse black. Even the skin, white, gave it a touch of emaciated, sick.

Put sadness and was sure that did not depend only on the context in which they had met: he was clearly a woman in difficulty, with problems. It was strange even to approach its image completely opposite to that of Simon and believe that they were best friends.

"I ..." he continued Erika, not at all comfortable "I was speechless when I heard, I knew ..." A small tear slid under his glasses and reached his chin.

"We, too," agreed Bob. "It was one thing ... impossible, so sudden. I say, it was one that was strong in the car, but ... "He shook his head, staring into space. Beside him, Cristina was foreign to their words, concentrated in his terrible thoughts, lost in an inner dialogue with her mother.

"We call a few days ago" informed Erika.

"Really?" Marveled Robert, who, still unable to see the strange woman as a friend and confidant of Simon, he could not believe that they had been in touch recently. It could not explain why he had ever heard: never existed secrets with his wife.

"Yes. There telefonavamo often, until a few years ago. We were classmates in high school and we never entirely lost, even when Simon moved here. In recent times, for one reason or another, we feel less, but I came to call a month ago and then often these days. "

"Why?" Roberto wanted to learn more. Why Simon had felt the need to contact her friend? Cristina also seemed interested in: for the first time since he started the conversation turned away from the flowers lying on the ground and turned to Erika.

"So," she explained. "She knew her better than me, Simon was so. He said it was a lot that we did not talk and that she wanted to say a few stupid things. And after the first call had also followed up the next day. "He sighed and paused. When he spoke again his voice broken by sobs. "It seems impossible when I think about how it has always been serene and happy and now ... where did you look ... "

Robert lowered his head and looked back at the Cristina earth mound and a picture of Simona temporarily hung a wooden cross. Both were unable to hold back new tears.

"I'm sorry, excuse me," said Erika, composing and sniffling. "I did not want, it's just that ..."

"No problem," reassured the Roberto. "Nobody wants to believe, but it's all true. Unfortunately. "

"I ... take, take this, please. "Erika retrieved a white envelope from her purse and reached out to Robert.

"No, no, thank you, should not ..." He had already received a dozen envelopes that day, mostly from friends of his and Simon and a couple of distant relatives. It was another sign of affection and closeness, to offer money, although he shared the way down.

"Please, I want" she insisted. And as Robert, not entirely convinced, took the envelope, he turned with a quick "Goodbye. And yet condolences. " He walked toward the exit of the cemetery.

Roberto was astonished, motionless, with the envelope in his hands. Had he said something wrong? He put the envelope in your back pocket, while the thought of Erika and his strange farewell was set aside by the return of pain, when, turning round, saw Matthias, in tears, caressing the little wooden cross, the face of the counterfeit despair.

***

"Do not worry, I already said there is no problem." Cristina was talking on the phone with Daniel, who apologized for the umpteenth time that it was unable to attend the funeral. It was nearly nine and Roberto, Matthias and Gisella were downstairs in the kitchen, talking and remembering how many people had seen that afternoon, if only to prolong their time together as possible, and postpone the moment of going to sleep, each alone with their thoughts.

"You've done a beautiful gesture to come the other night at the Rosary" Cristina continued. "Even my dad was impressed, you've seen. And then today was a day so bad ... was not necessary for me to be, really. Do not believe it yet.. "He started crying again.

"Among other things are also worried now," he added after a moment, lowering his voice and making sure with a quick glance at the bedroom door was ajar. "Because I have a delay. In three days, four if I did the math. No, I know, I know. Yes, I thought about myself, but ... I do not know, I wish we had not escaped something, I would not be really ready. Other than that this thing even without the mother would be a bit 'early to my standards. "He listened a few seconds. "What? As "and if I did"? Meanwhile, we've known very little, okay a story that has already become serious enough, but we certainly can not be sure that it continues forever. And then ... I do not know, I do not even twenty years, I've just started university, I would not be ready. I do not understand if you talk seriously, or if I kidding. I understand, but think! "

Unconsciously he raised his voice, to be altered. Daniel's attitude was inexplicable, had never seemed the type of guy who would have willingly accepted the idea of becoming a father at twenty, and yet he was implying that, at worst, if she became pregnant , there was nothing to worry about. "We should get married, we should find a place where to stay, someone to help us. Is this the right time? Considering that neither you nor I have a job? BUT HOW IS EVERYTHING FROM SELF? "Another step towards a real scream. "Look, never mind, we close the discussion here, not in the mood and I'm not going to argue. Can we talk more, and still hope ... and however we hope that all goes well. Enough! Simply, hello. " He hung up, pretending not to hear Daniel undaunted, repeating that they would find a solution to everything.

It was disbelieving and on the verge of despair. What was a punishment from her mother? It hurt to do some thinking, but could not ignore the fact that one of the reasons why they fought furiously in the days before it was. Be careful what you do or might find yourself pregnant at nineteen had said Simona nell'elencarle the reasons for which had not liked Daniel and why Cristina would leave as soon as possible, causing a certain embarrassment in reference to their sex. And now the words of his mother could be realized, as a prophecy.

"Are you okay?" Robert had appeared at the door of the room. Or had moved in absolute silence or Cristina was so absorbed in thought not to have heard him.

On hearing his voice leaped and spun around, launching with an automatic gesture cordless phone on the bed, as if to hide the murder weapon. From what could be there? How could you have heard? "Yes, Daddy. Why? "

"I seemed to hear screaming from down below, I thought there was something wrong with your ... boyfriend, what's his name? "

"Daniele" she reminded him. "But no, nothing. We only had a moment to complain about one thing ... "

"Do not take if it did not come today, was not ..."

"No, no. Indeed, he was to be disappointed, I told him that everything is fine. It was just ... "But he did not know what excuse to invent and especially feared that his father was telling the whole truth, he had also overheard the conversation where it referred to the possibility of pregnancy.

"I do not care, your things are," came to her rescue Roberto. "Only ... is a difficult time, we are mentally stressed and we shall be for a long time, so ... my advice is: try to separate the fields, to see things as they are and not through the ... filtering of sadness and anger, too, that this situation has brought us. I mean, do not ruin everything, I know it's bad to say but it's true: life goes on, my mother would like us to continue to be happy like three days ago. "

"All right. Thank you. "

"That Daniel seems like a good guy, basically."

"Mother was not very well," he remarked Cristina with a sad smile.

Robert sighed. "I know, I said something that was not a genius, but frankly he did not explain why."

"He said to me, more or less. But in reality, as I recall, I fully understood where I was not really the problem. She saw him only ten minutes and seemed to know him from a life he described him as a monster who wanted to take advantage of me, told me that I should leave it if I did not want to end up in a mess. I spoke even more, except to add more mischief. "

"That's why you quarreled?"

"That and the fact that I told you, that it was not clear. Every so often repeated: "Trust me, you'll see, you'll understand," or said "If I knew ...", as if only she knew the men. And when I asked her to explain further said: "Forget it, do not make me talk, just trust me" "As recalled in Cristina's eyes were shiny because, although linked to a quarrel, brought back to mind the thought that the face his mother, who was not there. Gone forever. "The back was screaming because he treated me like a child, he wanted me to understand that you have something important to say, but actually seemed just an excuse to justify its prejudice against Daniel."

"Mother was a good person, but sometimes could be wrong too."

"You did not say anything?"

"No, really, I said something, but nothing more."

"Not even the night before ... accident? "Robert shook his head. "Because that morning I wrote a message and told me I was wanted, when I came home from university. He said it was important and so we made peace. I was hoping that you had talked about it, because now I will stay forever in doubt ". He sat on the bed. "If I had not gone to school that day, perhaps we would talk in the morning and we would put in place. Or if I had responded with less anger ... it's just that ... "

"You do not have the" if "," interrupted Robert. "Life is like that, you can not change. It's all gone. The important thing is that you do not believe that his mother has died trying to anger you. As we know, has been worried, but not spent a day in her life that she had first thought as you and Matthias. Just think about this. And I think that will stand beside you and help you even in moments of your life. "

"I'd be like Matthias and really believe it."

"Nothing's stopping you," objected Bob. She reached into the front pocket of his pants and pulled out a gold necklace. "Here." Handed it to him. "This was the necklace of the mother, he always wore. I had not thought about where to hold it, but I decided that it is right that takes you. Put it, and help you to remember that she is with you.

"Even I, as a boy, I received a necklace from my grandfather, shortly before he died and ... Well, I was convinced that he had absorbed some of its energy, its soul, so I wore it and took it off again. In the evening, or when I was in trouble, her tight and strong was talking with him. Do not believe it, but ... "He unbuttoned his shirt and took her in his fingers the necklace, hidden by the vest. "Even in these days, I often called to give me strength."

Cristina took the necklace, held a few seconds in his hands, staring at her, then put it on. The cold metal skin of the chest was a feeling that, joined to the weight of the necklace, made her feel that jewel as something concrete, alive .

"Thanks," he whispered, clutching the necklace, like the hand of Simon and had finally riappacificate, as her mother had heralded in that last message before leaving.

***

"Dad, if I think hard, hard mother can dream it again tonight?" Matthew was lying in his bed, wearing only a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. With difficulty he could keep an eye out for the fatigue of a long and busy day, you would never forget.

"Probably," said Robert, trying to be sincere. "But if it does not come do not worry, it will be for another time. However, do not ever lose. "

"Okay, Dad. Good night. "It seemed to have fallen asleep before even finishing the sentence.

"Good night, love," she greeted him, turning off the light in the room. He hoped that night would pass in its Simona, of dreams, I had a need indescribable. But the next morning he would regret his wish.

***

It began more as a physical sensation as a perception of color, although the latter only days after he left a memory more defined. They were shivering, those who felt, inexplicable in a sultry night of early summer. They tore from deep sleep into which he dived and brought him to a state of consciousness that allowed him to notice the green.

Initially I was dazzled, as if he were a powerful beacon placed in front of the face. All he saw was a very strong light, almost painful when he struck his eyes accustomed to darkness. It was that particular to convince him that he was not dreaming: the dreams, as he remembered, the light never had such effects.

Then she realized she was immobilized. He tried to move my arms and legs, but could not move an inch. With eyes that rallied from the shock of the light, looked at his wrists, but saw nothing that could justify the failure to raise them. They were surrounded by the green fluorescent glare like a thick slime, goo, alien, but they were free. So why did not respond to the impulses sent from the brain? It was what you felt when you was left paralyzed?

But those thoughts became the least of his problems when he noticed the figures that emerged from the green. At first they appeared as clusters of light, such as lumps of whatever was causing the spectral atmosphere, then took shape and Roberto, in spite of himself, his heart about to crash like hands and legs, distinguished human contours. While the breathing became labored and a timid hope that, after all, it was a nightmare trying to get off, moved his head from side to side of the bed and counted at least ten forms. But behind them could be many other, although their nature was easily confused with the light.

Were women, female bodies flimsy, translucent, like the fluorescent light from which they came to life. He distinguished clearly the head and the trunk, wrapped in rags anonymous, that was tapering downwards, ending in a thin filament green, like a spiral of smoke that joined together. Floated around the bed and had all eyes turned towards Roberto, as if an electromagnetic field which were irresistibly attracted.

In the grip of a blind terror that had never known before, Roberto ascertained to know these women. Not in the sense of knowing who they were, but he was sure he had already met previously, because the facial features of each could see familiar features. Looking better - and surprised it has not yet passed out of fear that had taken possession of him - he noticed another detail: the figures resemble each other. Definitely different ages, however, showed features in common, as if they were linked by family ties more or less closely.

Finding himself unable to close their eyes and ignore the terrible scene which he had become unwitting protagonist, as if some force beyond his control forced him to grasp every detail, Robert shifted his gaze to the figure placed to the extreme right and suddenly everything was clearer. No less scary, but lighter.

That woman was Simone.

His face was the same one that was still firmly ingrained in the memory, although he was aware of how the contours within a few days they would begin to blur and lose consistency, as happened after the death of his father. The only difference from Simona who had loved that damn green glow emanating like a macabre lamp and that's floating like a reflection on the water surface, ready to disappear at the first ripple of a wave.

And the other women had seemed familiar because all remembered in some way and also Cristina Simona, who had taken much from his mother. A couple had the same nose, another was even an almost perfect copy of his beloved wife, and others, sharing in the shape of the face and mouth. Roberto knew it had to be distant relatives of his wife, great grandmothers and various ancestors. This brought him again to the possibility that she was dreaming, despite the concreteness of the images that came to his brain left deep doubts.

Simona! cried, feeling the blade of the longing soul pugnalargli under a thick layer of terror that had cloaked. Then he realized he'd just thought the name, his mouth was paralyzed as the rest of the body except the head, moving autonomously move from one end of the bed surrounded.

Simon seemed to feel it anyway. His expression, hitherto undecipherable, as a neutral sheet of uncut paper, took on a tinge of melancholy, with a bright green eyebrows drooped at the ends and thin lips slightly parted, as if about to say something and had stopped at the last minute. It was a face longer true , his own, more human than all the others, who continued to stare sternly Roberto, as evil spirits ready to take him to hell.

Love, what happens? What do you want? asked again, now sure of being able to communicate telepathically with her.

The sadness on the faces of Simon became more pronounced and the mouth was again about to move and respond, but Robert felt a quick movement of his eyes to the other figures, which seemed to force her to stay. The impression he gave was that of a prisoner who wanted to ask for help but was aware of how, in this case, his jailers would be punished and tortured. That thought caused to Bob a sense of anger and helplessness, which were joined by the horror and disbelief for what he was witnessing.

Her face moved again, without his wish - he would never look away from Simon, though what he had before his eyes was not just an eerie stump of the person with whom he had spent twenty years of his life - and moved on other figures. The severity was transformed into something more akin to hatred, and Roberto feared for himself, as a rational part of his mind he wished to awaken from the nightmare terrifying and very realistic.

Then they talked. All, at once, like a macabre chorus in perfect sync. His lips moved but uttered no sound: the bedroom remained shrouded in deep silence, not a buzz, not the slightest noise from downstairs by the chambers of the boys, just that annoying green and ghastly figures to populate it. Repeating a single word, like an army marching in an orderly and without rest.

Kill them!

Even Simon was involved in quell'angosciante ritual. Roberto wished with all his heart to die, that you can leave in any way from that room and flee, to run until fatigue had erased the memory from that terrible experience, or had killed. He felt crushed, raped by those shapes and their incomprehensible command, repeated like a mantra, silently yet echoing in his head like fireworks fired at close range.

Kill them!

Who? cried in desperation, turned to Simon, even though at that moment his eyes had turned to a woman who had at least twice the age of his ex-wife. Kill who?

But as late responding to his plea, the green light began to lose intensity and the figures became less visible until it was lost again in darkness. They did not stop to repeat their command even while faded and Roberto continued to hear him for a few seconds, a prey to utter despair, until everything went black even in his mind, and sank back into sleep from which he had been brutally torn.

***

The next morning, Robert awoke in a bad mood, as on the rare occasions when she quarreled with Simon and he could not get over it, because he loved to distraction and was not conceivable that they argued and strillassero against each other. Then, feeling the bed and finding it empty, he returned to the truth that for a long time his mind had struggled to accept. At the same time, the memory of the frightening nightmare of that night came back as a justification for the state of mind where he was.

He was sure he had dreamed, seeing the light of day come from small cracks in the shutters and the singing of birds that Friday morning that he could for once over noise of the few cars on the road. One dream, one of those bastards, where you thought you were dreaming and you answered that it was not so, because otherwise you would have even thought, and so on. Not only that, but he was sure he had already done the same nightmare at least one of the previous nights, because some of the images were spontaneously before my eyes as deja-vu .

Still felt the chills to think back on those figures around his bed, like the ghosts of A Christmas Carol Dickens, only far more terrifying and with less noble intentions, staring at him with hatred while he was immobilized, helpless. He hoped with all his dreams of Simon, but his troubled state of mind for the great loss had turned into a disturbing presence, was already a well, however, that the magazine had her face torn by the accident .

In any case, should not give importance to what he had experienced. Often his mother, especially in the years after the death of her husband, had repeated that dreams were the place of contact between the living and dead, who, though with great pain, sometimes unable to make contact with loved ones. But Robert had never been entirely convinced of this supposition, although Simon had found charming and romantic, and would not make exceptions even now. Also because Simon would never hurt a fly, so as to justify his call to kill someone?

Kill them! Who could they be the ones they then? They had never quarreled with anyone, had known and loved in the country. Much more logical to think that the inability to conceive of a fatal accident Robert had resulted in the identification of possible "culprits" that Simon and the other figures had ordered him to delete. But then how to justify the expressions of the women, who ...

Enough! prevailed Roberto, getting out of bed and heading toward the bathroom. No sense letting go those conjectures, any more than he had to ask why the protagonist of an action movie is not done a scratch while falling from the third floor. He had a difficult day before, the first real day "normal" without Simon. It had to be strong for himself, for Cristina and Matthew.

***

Cristina was stirred under pressure, as if preparing a joint or a strip of cocaine in her kitchen. He was at home, yes, but in the study upstairs and at the computer. However, she continued to keep an eye on the stairs and listen carefully to find a sound that warned of the arrival of his father. He held his pointer fixed on the X to close the Internet browser window, moving quickly only to move from page to page, and index finger of his right hand and leaning hard to the left mouse button, ready to click in case of emergency. He remembered a boy intent on visiting porn sites and fearful of being discovered.

On the monitor in front of her was the list of search results with Google. He had written "pregnancy symptoms". Menstruation had not yet arrived, and although he had a logical explanation, would remove any doubt. He could not wait another month with the fear of being pregnant. She was sure that if they had had an ongoing pregnancy, early signs have already been identified, so he wanted to get an idea of what were the main anomalies to be monitored.

He had already read dozens of pages forums or sites more or less specialized and had become an idea. The main symptoms of pregnancy were nausea and vomiting, fatigue, irritability, swelling of the breast and lower abdomen. They were good news, because when Cristina had not even one, if not a profound fatigue, which was, however, due to the terrible days that had elapsed, and a slight but persistent stomach ache. The latter was a constant even when the cycle was presented to him regularly and a site confirmed, adding that even a slight breast enlargement was due to normal your period and often the symptoms of these correspond to those stages of pregnancy to initials.

He found dozens of stories of girls in the same situation. Some were pushed even further, showing very careful to have sex safe and risk free, and still had no problems and everything was arranged after a delay a little 'more prolonged than usual. In conclusion, the present state could be considered quiet. Yet un'antipatica voice from a dark area of her mind told her she could not be absolutely certain and that, conversely, was not unfounded possibility that it was really pregnant, as if this was a cruel twist of fate that wanted to increase his sense of guilt towards his mother.

She closed the window, turned off the computer and the Internet. The feeling of doing something wrong behind his father was not, but was quickly replaced by anxiety. He decided that he should pull themselves together and buy a pregnancy test. In Parma, perhaps, in a break between classes the other. There did not know anyone and would have been easier. He asked for help from Daniel, if necessary, but could not resist well with that worm in the head.

***

Roberto sat at the table in the living room. The atmosphere was pervaded by the scent of flowers: calla lilies, chrysanthemums and roses, arranged in four elegant bouquets, what remained of the many manifestations of affection of friends attended a final farewell to Simon. The remaining baskets were part of the cemetery and the church, as landmarks to define the sad path leading from life to death.

Matthias was playing on the computer. He had not gone to school and had spent the morning watching TV, but Roberto gliel'aveva granted, just as was enabling him to sit in front of the PC monitor. Cristina came out recently, saying he was going for a walk. Probably had a date with Daniel, Roberto suggested, and was glad she could count on the moral of that boy, because he was not feeling very strong, despite so far if it fared better than he thought.

Not to stand still and not be invaded by the memories and pain, had recovered from the kitchen table the various envelopes with the offers he had received the day before. He sent personal thanks to the families who had been kind enough to donate money - that would be donated to some association \- and those who had made a participant in a telegram, but individually reach all the people who had attended the funeral would be impossible. Already the day after the funeral agency would seek to expose the posters of thanksgiving, in which it stressed the emotion that had resulted in the largest turnout of family Simona.

Roberto casually opened the first envelope, registering at a glance the names that were written motions and feeling of gratitude that they tried to force their way in the storm of despair and longing that tore his heart. When he finished, one quarter of an hour later, he had counted nearly three hundred euros and had written down the names on a sheet to write to to express their gratitude. He was just about to retrieve the tickets from the cabinet near the table, when a memory hit him like a flash of a camera.

Without thinking, he put his hand to his back pocket. The envelope of the wacky friend Simon was still there, where he had placed the day before. He hoped that Erika - that was his name? - Had given an address, because otherwise they would know how to track it down. She took the envelope and examined it, finding it completely white. The particular stranger, however, was another: inside there were no coins or banknotes but only one sheet folded in on itself. Roberto took it, just curious.

It was a handwritten letter, in a neat handwriting and undoubtedly feminine, rounded letters and very fine line. Without a reason, read the first signature, confirming that the girl named Erika. Under the name he had given a telephone number with the prefix of the province of Parma, an element in accordance with his story about the close friendship with Simon, who was originally from Parma.

But why state the number? Roberto began to read, with a strong suspicion that was taking shape.

Dear Roberto,

I would not give her the "you", despite Simona I have talked so much about her, in recent years, which I consider as a friend. He loved to madness, and he was fully reciprocated. He was happy. I can not believe that now is gone forever and I can only begin to imagine what she is trying. For this I want to preface that I write with difficulty, but I sure have to do it out of respect to the memory of Simon. I hope you can understand.

Simona and I spent together many years of our lives, when we went to school in Parma. We have lived together many experiences, but one in particular has marked our relationship forever, making it solid and indestructible as a bond of blood. Of this I should and I would talk to her, because I know for a fact that Simon has never done, but now I realize that might be important. Not sure why, not yet, but it is a strong feeling. Excuse me if I get lost, but will understand if and when we can talk in person, calmly.

I tried to call her a few days ago, but I was so out of desperation and fear that I expressed badly. I must have given the impression of a mentally ill and do not blame me for the phone slammed in my face. I decided to write to expose them more calmly and clearly the question.

Simona was afraid that something would happen. I did not said openly, but I did understand. It was some time since we've heard and suddenly called me and took to do it regularly, every two or three days. He said he wanted to talk, to chat. At first it seemed to me that it was only that, but last week, Saturday morning, I explained that he wanted to blow off steam, because there was something that bothered her about your daughter Cristina. I did not understand, was very vague.

Then he told me that he feared for a new understanding of Cristina, a guy goes out with a boyfriend who had passed the day before at home and that had upset Simon. Now I prefer not to write the exact words she said to me on the phone, so that just in the moment, have destabilized me. If you grant me the favor to meet me, in memory of Simon, I'll try to explain them.

For now, the only advance that one of the biggest concerns was the possibility that Christine became pregnant with this guy. I do not know if your daughter had confided in Simon or what, this is what she told me that day on the phone.

However, Simon was afraid. I felt from his voice on the phone, the confusion in his speeches, the tension was palpable, as if afraid of being intercepted. I'm not saying that he was aware of experiencing a fate as cruel as that which took her away, but it was quiet. The last time I called on Monday afternoon, just one day before the tragedy, I announced that it has made a drastic decision and wanting to talk to Cristina and greeted me by saying "I hope soon to resent, that everything is fine" . The next day, unfortunately, we know what has happened.

My fear initially was that there was something or someone behind the death of his wife. But this would mean that, somehow, they were involved in your own Cristina and her boyfriend, which I refused and I refuse to believe even now. My idea is that Simon was in a mental state of deep confusion and fear and all these thoughts have cost a moment of fatal distraction while driving. Yet when I recall the phone calls I made, a part of me is convinced that there is something more. Maybe together we can find some answers.

For now, please do not say anything to Christine, much less to her boyfriend, who has always already known. I hope that my words have convinced of my sincerity and good faith. Simon was a very important person for me. I await your response, his call, to talk together.

Greetings and sincere condolences

Erika

Roberto folded the paper in anger, barely restraining himself from tearing. I tried to call her a few days ago . He remembered it well, that phone call, well enough to feel a deep hatred born to Erika and her stupid letter, he had finished reading quickly and carelessly. He could not bear the thought that there were people like her, exploitative and parasitic, ready to take advantage of others' pain without any scruples. He had no doubt that if he agreed to meet her, Erika would have pulled out assumptions and inferences about the real cause of the death of Simon, like any self-styled mediums, driven by the desire to show off and maybe earn a space in the newspapers: "Sensitive reopen the case, the fatal accident. "

Christina pregnant? What kind of idiocy, there were no secrets in the family and his daughter was still smart enough to exercise extreme caution in those things. Erika, provided that this was his real name, he must have gathered information about their family and put them together to build this letter, to gain his trust. It had tried to generate curiosity, suggesting things to know that Simon had never told him to read between the lines, leaving the possibility of a conspiracy at the hands of Daniel and the same Cristina, perhaps.

Robert felt a strong urge to call the police and give them the phone number that Erika had naively written down on paper. Then he stopped and threw the envelope, which fluttered in the air and fell on the floor, behind one of the baskets of flowers, where she would remain for days. Roberto put his head in his hands and shaking, she began to cry, this time not only pain but also of anger.

***

"He started talking about her grandmother Isa?" Matthias was sitting at the table with little desire to eat and a lot of talking, as if to fill the silence that reigned in the kitchen.

He, Roberto and Cristina were dining alone, as the survivors of a deadly disasters, head down. Even the TV was off, as always during meals, so you do not hear nothing but the clink of silverware against the plates and the noise of a few cars passing on the highway.

"No," replied Robert, with his mind back to the six that Friday afternoon, when he went to visit his mother-in-law.

Olga had received him, smiling and chattering as usual, with his Italian ungrammatical and a note of worry in her eyes. "Hello, Robert. How's it going? The lady is there, still not talking. I very preocupata, afraid that maybe one day is bad for his Simona dead. "

"Quiet, Olga," he told him. "It was already very ill and this news has been hard, it will eventually be closed in silence. But I do not think they will have health problems in the coming days, you will see that slowly improves and begins to speak. Now his mind is confused, will not stand not understanding well what has happened. "

"Hopefully" she had hoped. "Poor thing, he understands davero he was to die, because he loved to Simon."

"So are we. Everyone, "he added Roberto.

"Yes, it is true, is true. Although I miss her, I prayed a lot and he also told my children to pray in Ukraine. "

"Thank you. It ... is there? "he asked, pointing to the living room, which had reached the voice of a TV presenter. Isa always kept the volume very high.

"Yes, vai, vai well, Robert. I finish eating and I'm doing. "

"Do not worry, I'll think for a while '. Thank you. "

Rarely had been visiting Isa alone, either because they would have liked, either because they would not know what to talk and you would be lost in long, awkward silences. However, the current situation required that, although uncomfortable, he also took parts of Simona and made his presence felt at Isa, who was certainly suffering the loss of his daughter to him.

He told Olga that her mother-in-law was confused and felt like the news through a filter, but he thought to himself, and knew that was not so, not quite. The silence in which she had taken refuge there was a witness. It was also good that this was the only reaction was, at the time, because at his age and his condition could have gone much worse.

"Hello, Isa," he greeted, deliberately maintaining a high tone of voice to overpower the volume of the television and capture the attention of the mother-in-law, sitting in his chair staring at the screen with a lost look, almost as if he were sleeping with open eyes really interested in the program aired.

Isa had remained motionless, her hands folded in her lap, her eyelids half-lowered, the bottom of the face relaxed, his chin jutting forward, like a crust of rock break off and ready to crumble at any moment. Only the eyes were moving, moving slowly in his direction. They had registered their presence and had returned to fix the television, indifferent. Robert had thought his own image, captured by that look, trying to reach the fatigue of the brain and found the path blocked Isa. The thought was not pleasant.

"How are you?" He asked, still with that tone of voice. He felt a strange feeling to put the silly question, but he had already guessed that Isa would not be disturbed easily by its silence and its isolation and that he should try to meet her as much as possible. Isa had distracted attention from the TV, in fact, even when the kitchen came the clatter of pots had fallen.

Roberto had waited a few seconds. He was embarrassed: the behavior would be more logical to get up and go, barely Isa would notice, but he had had the courage. Simon would not have approved.

"I do not believe still true ..." he commented, hoping that Olga came as soon as possible, to have someone to exchange a few words, without the impression of talking to an empty room, and for the chance to return home no remorse for having abandoned his mother-in-law.

Isa had remained impassive. The TV images of the wrinkled face had lit up like flash different colors, projecting on the walls of his living silhouette.

"With all the bad people who are in the world ..." he continued Robert, realizing that it was making use of all the phrases he knew. It was an impression or being in the company of elderly amplified this trend? "I do not deserve it." Again the strange sensation of a moment before, as if he had talked to someone else, instead of its Simona. He had not been able to explain how he managed to hold back tears.

This time, however, Isa had shown a reaction. He turned his head toward Roberto imperceptibly, but without taking his eyes from the screen, and was inspired to say something, but was stopped immediately. He had shown his face in the initial position and had knitted his bushy eyebrows, assuming a stern expression, as if ...

Roberto had jumped. For a moment, before his eyes, the figure of Isa had assumed a green color, its brightness, glow, like the figures he had dreamed that night. The face and the stern look, as scolding, were the same women who ordered him incessantly "Kill them!" While he was immobilized in bed. Those were Simon and his ancestors and Isa was one of those, only that he was still alive. For the rest, in those eyes staring at the TV could have read the same, macabre invitation to kill whomever.

"You something to drink, Robert?" Olga had entered the living room without that Roberto had noticed it. "A tea, a cup of coffee?"

"No," he answered without even thinking about it, barely moving his thoughts by Isa the caregiver. "Now ... I must go home, the boys are waiting for me. "And above all he had been afraid of having to find yet alone with his mother-in-law, as proves the incredible, absurd. But the terror he had felt that night was resurfaced and threatened to take possession again and then it could be said that it was just a nightmare.

"Oh, yes, poor" was Olga sorry. "Sensa Mom, what an ugly thing."

"And he never speaks more now?" Said Mattia yet.

"How?" Responded Robert, back to reality. "Oh, no. I mean, I do not know. I think ... Perhaps it is a reaction, the grandmother is a bit 'sick and ... "

"I think she is angry with us," said Cristina, lapidary, speaking in his speech.

"What do you mean?" Marveled Robert. "Why should ...?"

"I do not know, certainly not with Matthew. With you I do not know, even if you never hit it off, maybe now that he knows there is no mother feels alone and with no family of his "original" to be near her ... because mom finally gave always right ... "The words came out of his mouth like a river irrepressible animated by a current of resentment, as if they had been waiting for that moment of relief for days. "But I definitely have it ..."

"Cristina, do not say ..." Robert tried to explain, while Matthew watched his sister with curiosity and a vein of sadness.

"It's true. That day that Daniel has spent here at home, then when I returned in the evening ... when I quarreled with my mother the first time ... There was also the grandmother, we were there in the room and she was here in the kitchen, but we have heard arguing and screaming and ... I went down for dinner when I saw that I looked bad and I bet they will say something about me to my mother, because they've never been to the genius and ... I do not know, will think that my mother was nervous for my sake and that the incident did perc ... »

"ENOUGH!" Robert yelled, clapping his hands on the table and doing a reverse glass. Matthias jumped in fright and Cristina, who in the heat of the speech had barely restrained, burst into a crying taking his face in his hands. "I do not want to hear talk like that. You do not have ... you should not even think about it. We must not seek reasons for what has happened is ... success, and that's it. None of us is to blame and no one, neither Isa's grandmother, or grandmother Gisella, nor anyone else think that we are responsible. Is that clear? "

"Yes," said Mattia, terrified, unable to stand the gaze of the father who had indulged in an unusual outburst.

"Cristina?" Urged the Roberto, who suffered as she was acting, for more in a moment so dramatic, but still decided and conscious that he was the only way not to let the winds of despair disperse the remnants of their family.

"Yes," said Cristina, his voice broken and muffled from your mouth.

Roberto said no more and began to eat. However, his daughter had put a flea in the ear annoying. He could not have all the wrongs: Isa had never considered the ideal son Simon, and this incompatibility, combined with old age and sorrow for the loss sustained, could justify any hatred towards him and his children. He remembered the look he had seen her that afternoon and decided that it would no longer visit her mother-in-law, unless it be forced.

***

Two days later, shortly before eleven, were all ready for the first memorial Mass for Simona. Matthew and Christine were in the kitchen along with Gisella, who had arrived early in the morning to give a hand to rearrange the house and preparing food. Li was invited to lunch at his house, as did almost every Sunday, but no one had heard Roberto and asked her to dine with him. Now, the rings were covered with pots and pans and the air was permeated with tempting aromas.

Roberto was in his room and he was just doing his tie. It was an ordinary, made more difficult by the thought that the appointment was to appear in her elegant dress: not a wedding anniversary dinner, no output between pairs of friends, but the celebration of Mass in memory of his deceased wife.

Simona. Died.

Unthinkable, unbelievable, more and more with each passing day.

He left the bedroom to get his children and his mother but, passing by the door of the study, his attention was caught by an envelope propped against the desk. A thought flashed and decided to humor him: he was a little late but a few seconds would have sufficed.

Entered the study and recovered the bag which contained the last phone bill. They had received Monday or Tuesday, he did not remember exactly, and he supported himself on his desk waiting to go to pay for it. He pulled the sheets and tried those with the list of calls. The sales period was the months of March and April, but hoped that the call log was updated enough to enable him to dispel his doubts.

He ran quickly looked over dozens of rows of dates and numbers written in lowercase, the search for the prefix 0521. He found a pair in April, but the first few numbers - the last three were encrypted - not correspond to those that interested him.

Then, right at the third last line, he spotted another call to a prefix of the province of Parma. The number of visible digits were the same as indicated in the letter of Erika. The call had been made at nine-thirty in the morning, when nobody was home except for Simon, and lasted more than fifteen minutes. So Erika was not lying, not quite.

Perceiving a strange contraction of the stomach, Roberto put the bill in the envelope and went downstairs. He tried to remove the myriad of thoughts that the new discovery had generated, saying that what he found did not show anything and could not be a valid reason to give credence to unfounded rumors of a depressed woman who had appeared unstable and Erika at the cemetery. However, when he entered the kitchen, announcing that he could leave and apologized for the delay, could not refrain from casting a glance at the belly of Cristina.

***

Cristina was holding the stick to perform a pregnancy test. Leaning against the toilet seat down there was a bottle full of pee just made. It was ensured that the bathroom door was locked and that his father had engaged to Mattia and ground floor were watching an action movie on TV and had no problems for a while '.

That Monday morning he had insisted on going to class in Parma, Roberto had even tried to make her change, saying it was not in a mood to resume classes at the University and that no one would blame a few hours of absence . But she did not want to listen to reason, and because he was convinced that the best way to react to the tragedy that had struck ributtarsi was soon into the fray of everyday life, and because he had already planned to stop at a pharmacy in town to buy the pregnancy test kit.

He thought if you talk to Daniel before, but had concluded that it was better to act alone, at least initially. He made her nervous, taking underestimated what it would be a significant problem, as if they could afford to carry out an accidental pregnancy, with all the responsibilities and the difficulties this would entail, so do not want to risk fighting heavily before you have some reliable information.

At that moment her hands were trembling, as if what he was holding a detonator was ready to blow up an entire city. And again he was seized with a sense of guilt and shame for being involved in something important and secret behind his father. At the same time, he was observed, as if she were alone in the bathroom, and concluded that it had to be thinking of his mother, wherever she was now, however, was spiritually at his side: he hoped only that was watching her with loving eyes and pride in how he was doing, and not with blame for the mess in which half was expelled despite his warnings.

He tried to regain concentration and knelt in front of the bottle of urine, always clutching the stick as a magic wand that would soon reveal everything about his future. As he read the leaflet, dipped in pee and expectations, focusing on the small window would appear where the colored stripes. The strip, actually, because one would indicate that everything was fine, that was just upset by the mourning, and had to hope so, not to sink into despair still more atrocious, not to add insult to injury.

He waited a few minutes and the result seemed clear. He waited another five minutes for safety, until he hurt the wrist strength to squeeze the stick. At the end there were no more doubts. He got up, taking a breath.

***

Ten days later, Robert was sitting at the computer study. It was his free morning and, after accompanying Matthew to school and going to the cemetery to say goodbye to Simon, he had spent several years preparing for the next assignment in English class. He began to live in a normal way, if we could define, or at least had taken the road towards a new equilibrium. It was still early, of course: the memories of Simona loomed suddenly in the wrong moments, and made him stagger, rigettandolo into disarray and convincing him that she would not ever done, that what had happened was too much. But then he found the strength to go up, he found her in the eyes of Matthias and Christina and Simon, too, when they cruised in the photographs of which the house was still strewn about.

At that time it was the computer for a little 'entertainment. He sailed on the internet without a definite purpose, proceeding almost by association of ideas: a news site, then another on the local folklore of some Italian regions, then a collection of traditional recipes. Eventually he decided to combine business with pleasure, looking for some exercise to offer its students for the upcoming audit.

TEST OF ENGLISH began typing in the search engine bar, but stopped immediately. The Auto-Complete Text of the proposed research already stored in another computer. Overcome by curiosity and a moment of apprehension, I click and opened the page of results. A couple of links were colored in purple, and, though it was just a lover of technology, he knew perfectly well that this indicated that had already been visited. He had a sinking heart and a thought flashed.

Despite himself, he got up and went into the living room. Reached one of the baskets that still remained after the tragic day of farewell to Simon: the flowers were wilted and had been removed, but the plants were kept in memory the affection of the people. He tried the foot of the basket the envelope that was sure to have seen up to three days before, in the same place where he had thrown in anger after reading the letter from Erika, but could find none. His mother must have done recently cleaned.

INTERLUDE

' T ll the results that had already been displayed had to do with pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, tests to understand when you're pregnant, "said Robert, gazing toward the now empty coffee cup between his hands. He spoke for almost an hour and, although he was accustomed to long monologues when he explained in class, talk like that were immensely more tiring and stressful. His mouth was dry. "Are you thirsty?" He asked, prevaricating for the first time since he had begun to tell.

"No, thanks," said Erika, who had been paying extra attention to his every word and seemed lost in deep thoughts. He was sweating profusely: the forehead was beaded with droplets of short hair and bangs were stuck there. To see her, no one would have said that he had enough fluids in the body to produce such a sweat, but the unusual heat was destroying herself.

Robert got up and went to the refrigerator. "I never believed in the self-styled mediums, sensory or whatever you call those women who say they know the secret things that people do not even know. I have read or heard somewhere that collect information here and there or sometimes they pull a guess, just to fool the ignorant and steal their money. "He took a bottle of water unopened and put it on the kitchen counter, while the hand free opened a cupboard to retrieve a clean glass. "You do not seemed to me one of those, though. You have not asked for money, not so far, and I still got to check that what you said was true: I found some phone calls from our number to your phone bill on the list. Yet I must admit that, for some time, I believed that I wanted to mock me, for some unknown purpose, and that I had taken advantage of information that you had somehow got to earn my trust. I'm talking about Cristina's pregnancy, if that is really pregnant. "

"How could I meet you know?" Erika is defenses. "And that I should take advantage of meeting with you?"

"Exactly," agreed Robert, pouring himself a drink. "In fact I have reasoned very first to call you, I have carefully read and reread your letter and came to the conclusion that you were sincere. What you honestly believe you can help me to know the truth about the incident of Simon, or at least the past that I wanted to hide. "

"I hope so too."

"As you see, though," continued Bob, sipping cool water as nectar "I do not have much information apart from the bare facts of the accident and what followed. Unless you have not read anything more in the dream I had that night, I do not see other points of doubt in my story. So I hope that your side of the story is enlightening, or may complete the mine, otherwise we are again. "

"As I was saying" Erika sighed, looking down and wringing her hands clasped between the thighs "of what happened just before the accident I know very little about nebulae of Cristina, her boyfriend and his quarrel with Simona. There would be nothing strange, if I could somehow see a connection with what we have experienced myself and Simona better with girls, or because she has lived, a link that might be the only explanation for the apprehension and anxiety of Simona in those days and maybe the cause of the distraction that has taken her off the road. "

"So we have" said Roberto, reaching back to the table. "What is this mysterious secret that Simon did not tell me he never wanted? What has combined a kid? "

Erika gave a long breath. "You will not like, probably, but ..."

"I do not even like the idea that Simon is dead, so I hope that, whatever you say to me, can rendermela less difficult to swallow."

"When we were girls, Simona was pregnant" Erika finally confessed.

Roberto denounced the coup and said no more.

"But it was all a happy event."

PART TWO

Fabrizio

" The fact is that the there is not one that I do not like it, "he commented, enthusiastic, Simona. "Not one!"

"Well, actually it is unlikely that the Queen got it wrong a song "Erika agreed, happy to read a friend's eyes in such satisfaction. After all, the new cassette gliel'aveva given me. "Usually you have to feel some of the few times before ..."

"It's true, before you like them, but to me they took me immediately to large. These and all those I've heard before, it does not happen with any other singer. "Simon spoke aloud without realizing it, because he kept the earphones of his walkman tucked in his ears, as an implanted electrodes were necessary to keep in life. In fact, since his birthday was almost constantly engaged in hearing the new album by his favorite band. Erika knew her well and had taken the opportunity to give her a present of success.

"Love them a lot too," said Erika. "I'm not fanatical like you, but ..."

"I'm working on" Simon smiled. "Meanwhile you've started listening to them, so that before and not know them. You'll see that in a bit 'do you buy yourself a walkman from your purpose to listen to Queen. "

"It depends on how I finish school this year," said Erika.

"Listen, listen to this, is my favorite" Simona exploded, pulling off a headset and passing it to her friend. " Radio GaGa , it's called. "

Erika put on the headphones, amused by Simon, who seemed un'invasata. The volume was quite high, but she increased it further, as if permeating the brain of that music and convert it to Queenianesimo . They listened to the song in silence, as if celebrate a sacred ritual. The song was beautiful, indeed. Erika smiled when, in mid-song, Simon looked and found her with her eyes closed, lost nell'assaporare her favorite song, and when, during the chorus, he saw her shake her head from side to side, in a complete trance.

"He has a wonderful voice," said Simon at the end, recovering the headset. "I can not describe it, it gives me the emotions that ... if I found a guy with a voice so marry him instantly. "

"Um," said Erika with a grimace. "Maybe a little 'nicer, though."

Both burst out laughing. "Yes, although perhaps a voice so I would go even beyond the physical." He reflected a few seconds. "Maybe ..." he repeated, still laughing.

"By the way," said Erika. "Who knows what tomorrow night is not the right time to find a nice boy."

"Well, I do not think. At parties in high school I've only ever seen people in high school and we already know that there is little stuff ... unlikely to be kids outside. "

"You never know, sometimes captain. And this time do it in a disco, there may also be people who had nothing to do. "

"We'll see," concluded Simon. "Oh, and you do not think this is beautiful?" He said, referring to the new song he was hearing. "Here," he added, handing the headphones again to Erika, who took a sigh, amused. Simona was crazy and would never change. But for the loved one.

***

Simon finished putting on lipstick and distributed evenly by compressing the lips. He took one last controllatina the mirror to see if everything was OK. He wore a blouse bought for the occasion and a black miniskirt that left much room for the legs, covered with dark pantyhose. He was collecting her hair blond and wavy with a band, letting it fall behind the head to shoulder level. He had abounded with makeup and she found the right choice. It was terribly sexy and it was rare that you liked in the mirror. It was a nice evening.

Erika was waiting for the ten in front of his house, where they reached the disco Omnia , which hosted the festival in high school. Simon looked at the clock on his bedside table and saw that it was nearly ten and a quarter, but the delay was not a big problem: Erika knew, knew he must be still in the midst of the preparations and that this would not have ready before the ten- at least half. And then the party would be taken off later on, so what was the race to go, then having to bother waiting?

She went downstairs, trying not to make too much noise with your shoes on, because at that time his father Aldo was probably already asleep and there was no need to wake him, because he was always tired when he got destroyed by the weekend, and because he would have a shot at seeing her tanned that way. Passing by the kitchen door, Simona verified his prediction: Aldo deeply snoring in front of the small television set, sitting in his chair with his legs crossed and arms folded, an uncomfortable position to sleep.

His mother was embroidering in cross-stitch, work to which he devoted himself often in his spare time. He wore a pair of glasses with a cord that passed behind the neck: the weathered much, Simon had told him several times, but without quell'ausilio, Isa would not see anything about what he was doing. Now, hearing that her daughter was preparing to leave, he raised his head and looked over his glasses. "Vai?" She whispered, not to wake her husband, who still gave a guttural and then to return to snore heavily.

"Yes," said Simona same plane, staying in the shadows, outside the scope of the glow emitted by the TV. Not even his mother would go down the whole idea that you agghindasse in a certain way. "I'm going to take Erika."

"I recommend, if there is careful fog 'Isa was concerned. It was almost a year that Simon had learned to drive but his parents were not yet accustomed to the idea to guide alone at night and perilous. But do not forbid him: he was nineteen and it was a good girl and deserved confidence and independence.

"No fog" remarked Simon.

"But it might come down later," said his mother. Aldo moved again, in reaction to the change in volume of the TV to the beginning of a new transmission, but did not wake up. Isa glanced at him, then turned his attention back to Simon. "Promise?"

"Promise" she agreed, a little 'pissed. She did not like being treated like a girl. "Now I gotta run, I'm late."

"What time do you think you go?" Isa held her still. He was momentarily removed his glasses to be able to watch without having to bring evil in the eyes.

"I do not know, depends how it goes. However I have the keys, you sleep in peace. "

"It's a word ..." said his mother with a half smile.

"Okay, okay. Hello, goodnight, I love you, "said Simon, retrieving her purse from the rack at the entrance. She reached inside and pulled out his Walkman, he lit it and put on headphones, then left the house.

'Hello' Isa greeted her, following her with brooding eyes. Every night would be good , he thought, even though there was nothing good.

"If, if, hello" Aldo moaned in his sleep. Isa looked at him and smiled. It was enough to make them regain a momentary calm. Or maybe it was just resigned?

***

They arrived in front of ' Omnia shortly after half past eleven. Erika had to wait long, as expected. Simon had joined her in her room and gave her advice on the finishing touches to the look. They had joked a lot, taking around about who would have picked the first two and the possibility that the other had to go home on foot. At eleven had fallen and had left, under the gaze of the mother of Erika disappointed that, in my pajamas, sipping a camomile tea before going to bed.

"What a mess!" Said Simon, as he tried one empty seat in the car park outside the nightclub.

"Thank you, we will throughout the school," said Erika.

"I understand, but the kids will bring their parents. What are all these machines? "

"Obviously I was right, being in a disco there will be a lot of people outside. Well, well! "Erika rubbed his hands and glanced at the disco, where some group of boys was waiting to enter.

"Maiala," Simon joked. "Here." He found an empty seat and I parked his rickety Panda - a present from his father, who could afford much better, but he did not want to give too expensive car in the hands of a neopatentata. Simona unbuckled his seat belt and lowered his visor to give themselves a subsidiary in the small makeup mirror.

"The way you spoke yesterday seemed so disinterested in this party, but apparently you have any specific plans" teased Erika.

Simon turned with a look comical caricatures: he raised his right eyebrow and curled his lips as if to ask "What do you mean?".

Erika smiled. "I do not know, you took on the way ? "he continued, indicating a movement of the face with his private parts in a miniskirt. "And some pillow? Here the seats seem pretty uncomfortable ... "

Simon stared at her in silence for a few seconds, still with that look funny. "What an idiot," said at the end, and both laughed.

***

The festival took off late, as they had expected. At the rooms of ' Omnia were half empty, the few boys who had already arrived, most younger and Erika Simon, sitting at the couches while sipping cocktails and smoking cigarettes. Some rash was already wreaking on the track, moved more by the rhythm of the music that drunkenness. The last year of high school students arrived in dribs and drabs and stayed to chat outside the bar, looking around with an attitude of superiority, as nobles forced to mingle with the rabble of the people.

At one o'clock the real fun began. The children of the first year of the curfew had been decimated by their parents and the two rooms of ' Omnia , crowded to capacity and shaken by loud music, housed mostly young people from seventeen years of age. Simon and Erika had always remained side by side, both on the track and went crazy, and when they pushed their way through the crowd to reach the bar or sitting area.

They saw the usual scene: young people who smoked cigarettes special , who drank like hell, they ran into the bathroom to vomit without being always able to stay until the goal, which is pushed and threatened to come to blows before the bouncers intervened and accompany them to ' outside, where they would certainly come to blows; girls who danced in groups, surrounded by men like vultures flying around waiting for prey, hungry, indulging in some palpatina from time to time, the first to disappear and reappear behind someone else . Simona also saw their classmate sitting on a bench next to the bar area, almost crushed under the weight of a hefty guy who kissed her as if to pierce the skull with his tongue and touched with hands that looked like the tentacles of a polyp, breasts and legs and under the seats and under the skirt of her summer dress.

"Lucky you," said Erika, who, as far as I know Simon, he had never had a boyfriend before. No experience, even stories as a teenager. For her it had been different, had already been half a dozen guys in the last six years, although no one was born with a report worthy of that name. Only with Stefano, a sixteen year old with whom she went out for a month when she was fourteen, had fallen into a trap of illusion and inexperience, culminating with his first sexual intercourse. It was also nice, from his point of view, but any positive thinking was swept away when the next day, Stephen had jilted, pleased to have obtained it and have something new to brag about with friends.

For Simon had been a disastrous but still had not removed the desire to dream of true love, her prince charming. It had been more careful in the following years, and this led her to abort the new relationship before it took the wrong turn. The problem was that she realized that what was said had some truth: finding the right man was hard to find as the proverbial needle in a haystack. She had not made an issue in years past, had had the presumption to find the companion of her life when she was a teenager. But by the eighteenth birthday onward had begun to fear of having to postpone its plans to find a husband and starting a family within the twenty-two years.

He wondered where and when he found someone with a good head on, with values, with the expectation deep; certainly was not in a nightclub and not one of those during school holidays. His joke about any achievements with Erika was just that, a game, a facade, because it was not the kind of adventures "disposable", in principle, and even more after the experience with Stephen.

"I must go to the bathroom" to Erika shouted, trying to drown the noise of the music and ignoring his comment on their classmates committed on the sofas. He walked, thinking it was a scandal that had not yet put a piece of the Queen .

"I'm coming," announced Erika, as expected, and hastened to follow it. But did not have time to reach the bathrooms.

***

Simon saw a hand appear on the collar and was terrified. He sprang back with a terrified expression, and nearly ruined the ground with Erika, who followed a short distance and that it was caught. Both screamed, one for the fright and the other for the certainty that he would lose his balance and would have made a fool of history before the whole school. But in that their voices were lost like drops of water in the ocean.

The hand was a tall and toned, wearing a light brown shirt and a pair of elegant light gray trousers. His face was strong, as a sportsman, with his chin slightly protruding jaw and a major, a solar face, young, hypnotic, fascinating, generated by the perfect mix of a brilliant smile and fresh and clear eyes that seemed to have energy, the optimism exuded and vitality. He still had his right hand raised toward Simon, with his index finger outstretched as a sign of demand, although a vein of concern had stained the perfection of his stare. "Sorry, I did not want ..." he began, realizing that they made you a shot at Simon.

"What the ...?" She began screaming as loud in his body, possessed by a rage that she had not known. But she stopped at once: something in the eyes of the boy, in his look, his attitude made her give up, as if she noticed it was not fair to blame him, who did not deserve it. Later he thought it was as if she were in front of a child of three years that he had dropped a glass, breaking it, and had not had the heart to scold him, because basically it was an innocent creature who had not done on purpose.

"My God, excuse me," continued the boy, grabbing his shoulders as if to help her stand. "I did not think to scare you." He blushed with shame, a lot of other guys had witnessed the scene and were looking at him even now, have fun.

"I understand, mind," Simon assured him, throwing his hands dirty look, as if to make him understand that she wanted to be touched. "Alright."

He turned to Erika and found his face twisted into an expression of hatred toward the boy, with eyes that seemed to want to stab emanating rays of fiery wrath. She wanted to laugh, but he never did for fear that Erika reacted badly.

"Well. So ... "he went on, continuing to shout to be heard and resuming security.

"Then you do not mind if we were going to the bathroom" the anticipated Simona, and pointing to the door of the toilet of the girls behind him. He knew enough to understand that what happened was an excellent pretext to attack button, but did not want to get acquainted with the boy. He just wanted to pee.

"Ok, yes. It was just ... I've been stopping, and sorry if I scared you, to ask if by chance we've seen ... »

"But what an imagination!" Said Simon, turning to Erika, so that he would not hear her. Erika smiled contemptuously, still staring at him with eyes of fire and staying at friend's shoulders, like a strange bodyguard. "No, I think, not that I remember," shouted Simon, turned to the boy.

"You were not the Sahara last week? "he asked. "You and your friend too, she was." Addressed to Erika smiled, as if he had not noticed to be her dislike.

Simona was actually going to the Sahara , a disco in the province of Reggio Emilia, the previous Saturday. And there was Erika. But if he was right that boy would not have ever released, or at least not until they have sorbed his attempts at hooking or allowing him a "slinguazzata," as he ironically said Erika. And then, the boys in the area had a limited number of destinations for the Saturday night and the Sahara was one of the most popular, then that could be a lie which, coincidentally, corresponded to reality. And it was a reality for dozens of other girls who were present that evening and were the Sahara last week.

"I do not know," he said, to cut short. "Excuse us, but we urgently." Without looking at him handed him over, pulling Erika, and rushed into the bathroom.

"Anyway, my name is Fabrizio" he cried. "And you?" But he got no response. A boy next door caught his eye and smiled, amused, shook his head as if to say "you went wrong, man." But Fabrizio replied with a look that became for a moment his face in a charming monster mask, so that the boy, frightened, returned to look after their affairs and downing beer in his hand.

***

"What a wanker," said Erika, as soon as they were in the bathroom, away from crowds and loud music. The atmosphere was horrible: the floor was covered with broken plastic cups, a sink was filled with empty beer bottles and a girl was throwing up against the wall beside the entrance, supported by a friend who held her head and that laughed like a desperate. The smell of piss that covered the vomiting, but did not prevail for long.

"But it's not bad," said Simon, marveling at his own words. Up to the moment before it would consider a compliment to Erika against Fabrizio - had had time to hear him cry out his name - but now it was gone from sight, and that his image had become a memory, it seemed able to better discern the lineaments. And it was just like he said, was a superb piece of guy. Stupid, perhaps, to come up with that excuse from toddler to start a conversation. But still a very cool.

"How?" Erika was surprised. "I mean" he corrected himself, "I hear you say it's weird, is not really your type. To me, I tell you the truth, as a guy likes a lot, it being necessary to have the brain of a walnut and behaved like I said, to jerk, but ... "

"I do not know, that has something interesting, magnetic," said Simon. "Although as a tactic of conquest has been a little 'back." He smiled, looking in the mirror and tucking her hair behind them while she was recovering and would laugh with her friend, both amused by the fact that he had been drinking vomit the soul against the wall.

"So go easy, right?" Advised Erika, positioned in front of the mirror next to that of Simon. He tried to remain indifferent, but a slight tremor in her voice betrayed her. Simon knew her well enough to notice a streak of envy: Erika could consider it and look like an idiot for wanting to burn down his eyes, but the fact remained that Fabrizio had tried with her. "At least you go to sign."

"Yes, only to find myself on the couch with him above, such as Samantha" Simon remarked contemptuously. Erika laughed and she did the same. The girls behind them, who were leaving the bathroom, the two looked like they were crazy. "You know what?" Continued Simon. "The Piss me and I keep at home in here makes me sick. And then I start to smell the mess of vomit and do not get out quickly if I add mine too. "

***

When they returned to the main hall of the ' Omnia, Fabrizio was gone. Probably had migrated to some other group of girls or point to one and ask if they had already met the week before the Sahara . By the end of the night and the center would have won a prize to be proud of the next day. Moreover, the appearance was playing on his side.

Simon and Erika their way through the crowd, he decided to go to dance before you weigh anchor and leave the party in high school who had not been particularly exciting. They stopped next to the deejay station, a short distance from the speakers that gave off a loud music, high enough to be the source of intoxication like alcohol and tobacco use. Letting go at the pace, you set off on the notes of the pieces that were the most that beginning in 1984, What a Feeling to Moonlight Shadow , via I Like Chopin Gazebo and the great Thriller by Michael Jackson, which was launched a few months before. Lost in a sea of drunk guys dancing and music and strobe lights, they spent a good half hour of fun overall.

"And now a moment's attention," the deejay announced at some point, slightly lowering the volume. "Here it is serious, folks. For the beautiful Simona, by Fabrizio ... I want to see you raise your hands to heaven for this extraordinary piece! "

Simon realized that he had not heard the name until he saw the wonder on his face drawn by Erika. Then she looked rather frightened, watching her friend open-mouthed and quizzical look. "But how ...?" He began, but already Erika shook her head and opened his arms. But Simon did not have time to finish the sentence because his attention was caught by the new disc that the deejay had made. The only took two seconds to recognize the introduction of Radio Ga-Ga of the Queen . Her mouth dropped open even more, as if his chin had decided to break off and go dancing on his own.

Erika laughed, leaning on her knees like a grotesque imitation of the girl he had met there earlier in the bathroom, only that the dinner was pouring on the floor instead of crack up with laughter. Simon was speechless for a moment, then his eyes wandered behind the deejay and around the point where they were to find her and Erika Fabrizio, but did not see him. The song went to the disco chorus and the whole charge seemed to explode right then, as Simon put aside any thought and jumped as he had never done until then, loudly singing his favorite song and thinking that, yes, could say that the evening was a blast and would remember with pleasure.

***

They met no more Fabrizio for the rest of the evening. After unintentionally scared Simona, was as gone, it was not for the dedication requested the deejay.

"It's unbelievable," said Erika soon as they were in the car, ready to go home with a cold tremendous him and ears ringing. They had pretty much talked the last half hour, when Radio Ga Ga was over and had wandered into nightclub before deciding it was time to quit. "How did he know it was your favorite song? You have to admit that scored a million points, with a stunt like this ... "

Simon was silent and thoughtful for a moment, feeling the sweat that you went on the drying front in the frigid temperatures of that Saturday evening in early February . It would certainly caught a cold slap. "It is truly another amazing thing," he explained. "The deejay said that the dedication was for Simon to Fabrizio, but I remember I never said my name."

Erika's eyes widened so funny. "Wow! I never thought of! I was convinced that ... Wait, maybe I heard while I was talking about when we were going to the bathroom ... "

"No, not you call me by name, I do not think."

"... or maybe you already knew of view and was informed by someone in there, there was basically the whole school and everyone knows you. "

"If so terrifies me" Simon confessed. "I do not want it to be a pervert who has set his heart ..."

"I'm not like these thoughts from you," interrupted Erika. "It gave me the impression of a bad lot, that can be had feelings and that, having started on the wrong foot, he tried desperately to recover. If a guy asked me how I know him I would call a, a name does nothing ... "

Simon thought. He smiled, turned to Erika, visibly relieved. "You know you're right? I must be tired and paranoid. It certainly went well. And the song is one that is more now, coincidentally just guessed my favorite. "He paused. "Anyway it was fun!" He concluded, setting in motion. "If I'd seen even a peck gliel'avrei as if he deserved it," she added slyly.

"Maiala," scoffed the Erika, laughing.

***

Three days later, Simon collapsed onto his bed. Studied for nearly two hours and had a headache from hell. He decided that was enough for now. It was almost four and wanted to take a walk outside before it became dark. She went downstairs, where his mother was watching television, and announced who walked Kitty, their dog.

"I do not want you to pee against the gates of the neighbors' advised her Isa.

Simon went out and retrieved the leash by one of the chairs in the garden. Kitty, who had joined her as soon as she heard the door shut, began to saltellarle around, excited. "Good, good, beautiful," he complimented Simon, stroking the head. "Let's go."

There followed the usual path that Simon gave his dog at least twice a week: went up the long street where they lived and then take the road leading to the square of the small village on the outskirts of Parma, where Ketty Simona freed, leaving it running around in a tiny patch of lawn that could not be considered a real public park. The dog loved that moment where you fiondava sniffing every inch of ground to mark their territory urinating. It was difficult to meet with other dogs, so there was no risk that azzuffasse or, worse, to mate. Simon had never been favorable to sterilize it.

"Kitty! Come on! "Called her back after about ten minutes, noting that the temperature had dropped and that was likely to be late: he would never find the strength to start to study if he had hesitated for a long time. He hung up the leash to the collar of the dog and started walking back toward home.

Not traveled more than a few tens of meters away from the square, before his attention was caught by a person who walked out the door of the tobacconist. Her heart leapt in my chest and felt bubbling cheeks, her eyes seemed to want to explode from their sockets in disbelief. The wonder only lasted a few moments, before suggesting the rationality of looking down and away as quickly as possible with her Kitty.

Fabrizio was making out with haste, two packs of cigarettes in one hand and a bunch of keys in the other. He was wearing jeans and a heavy coat, both of the utmost elegance. He walked to his car, parked right in front of the tobacco and it was then that he noticed Simon. "Hey!" He called. "Hello!"

Simon decided to ignore it, but it was so damn unsure of itself that he made a couple of steps before stopping and turning toward him. He pretended to look with his eyes the origin of the salute, as if the road was full of people, rather than accommodate only two of them, as if he had not already noticed Fabrizio. When you looked at him, leaning with her elbows on the hood of his car and smiling, she performed in an attempt to appear that would have pulled a surprise even to a cheering audience of children. "Oh, hello" he said, while Kitty was pulling the leash.

"Do not tell me ... Do you live here? "Said Fabrizio, breaking away from the car and crossing the street to reach it. He walked confidently, like a catwalk model, with the blond tuft fluttering and bright smile by American actor.

"Yes," said Simon, the lead passing from hand to hand, and thinking it would be a problem-free in a short time and would be forced to remain on the books even after eating. Kitty resigned and sat down, panting with his tongue hanging out. "You too? I've never seen before. "

"No, not me," said Fabrizio. He was faced with Simon and she could smell it, it was intriguing and convinced her that if she had smelled a long time, could push it to jump on him and strip him. "I was driving home and I stopped to get cigarettes, I was short ... bad habit, smoking. You can not do without it for a minute, when he calls, he calls. "

Simon nodded. He could not explain why he felt so embarrassed. He had to deal constantly with other boys, for years, but with Fabrizio was different. He did not understand how, but different . He found himself fix them on your hands, and big toes that seemed carved in marble, so much had defined lines and sharp edges, and again, with astonishment and shame, he thought it would go into a trance if he had felt on their skin, and strong wrap.

"How strange, though," Fabrizio continued. "Before we never met and now twice in a few days. Maybe it's dest ... "

"It's always like this" said Simon, relieved by the fact that he can keep his perverted thoughts.

"How?" He asked, without the smile had cracked considerably since they started the conversation. A Simon recalled a wax figure. Even the skin was shiny and taut in an unnatural way.

"It's normal," he explained. "You can see a person a thousand times a day, but if we ever do unless you have known. It is likely that we have crossed at other times if you live here in the area ... Do you live here in the area? "

"Why do you care?" Said Fabrizio, mischievous.

"Oh, sorry. In this case I wonder why we are here talking, I have nothing else to do in ca ... "

"Stop, joking" he interrupted. "I thought that we begin to make progress, if you already ask me where I live."

"Do not get strange ideas" Simon noticed that Fabrizio was very different from the previous Saturday, a much more direct and arrogant. "I'm just polite."

"But yes, I live not far from here," he replied evasively. "Let's say that if you call me in ten minutes are in your house," he added.

"Ha-ha," Simon responded. We could do, was to give him that.

"Want to try? You want my number? "

"Of course I go straight to the point, eh?" He remarked, amused. Kitty was raised, and stared earnestly the direction they were headed before this unexpected meeting. "No beating about the bush."

"And what should I do? I was lucky to meet you after seeing you on Saturday and if I can not hope that the fate bring me back your way for a third time. I do not know if you understand, but I like you mean it. "

"Physically" specific Simona. "I've only seen outside, if anything, can you tell me that I appeal to you, but before you say that you like me you should at least know."

Fabrizio shook his head and chuckled. "You were always so pragmatic? All right, and as you say. Then give me the chance to meet you, I'm sure I'll regret what I said and it'll run away with your tail between your legs. "

Simon frowned and stared at him with an expression which was showing him that he was incorrigible, but that was making fun. He spread his arms and she sobered. "How'd you know my name?" He asked, recalling the doubts that have arisen after the disco party.

"I asked a boy who was near us when I almost dropped," said Fabrizio, no problems tuning the frequencies of the memory of Simon.

"And the song? Who told you this was my favorite song? "

"You."

"How? I've never ... "

"Now," Fabrizio said with satisfaction. "You told me you now. Your favorite song, eh? What a stroke of ass that I had, eh eh. "

Simon was speechless, as if he had slapped her. Fabrizio stared into his eyes, sensing in a single moment that Kitty was beginning to pull to move forward, the cold that had become bitter and penetrated the dresses and the light of day had dropped sharply. Then she burst into a laugh worthy of the best moments with Erika, so that the same Kitty raised his ears and turned to look at. He laughed long and Fabrizio joined her.

"I have deserved your number?" He asked after a while '.

And, without thinking twice, Simon informed him.

"Do not ask for anything else," Fabrizio said, raising his hands as a sign of surrender and retreating to his car. He was visibly excited. "I will not pull the rope, and I thank you ... I'll call you! "He turned, clenching his fists, exulting to himself.

Simon watched him coming up in the car and drove away. He did not move for a few seconds after he had disappeared from his view. When he started walking, satisfying the desire of Kitty, who was thirsty and tired, was still smiling.

***

Simon went into the house as if he were walking in the air, blown by a breeze of excitement. He closed the door behind him with a distracted gesture, and with the smile on her lips like a tattoo and staring, his coat hung the coat. "Ciaooo" cried her mother, wherever she was.

He started to climb the stairs and went to his bedroom, where he intended to reopen the books and study the pages that were left - not until you have telephoned to Erika and told them the news - when Isa looked out the kitchen door with a spoon of wood in his hand. He watched with a serious expression.

"Are you okay?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, why?" Said Simon, as if they had just asked the most obvious thing in the world.

"I do not know, you greeted me as if he seen me in two days and you're there, you ride out the ass ..." This was an expression that did a lot to Isa.

"The walk me relaxed," said Simon, but his tone of voice implied that he was not deliberately let the truth. In her heart she hoped that her mother insisted on questioning her, because he wanted to tell her about his encounter, as if the joy within him should find relief valves to keep it from exploding. Part of her wondered how it was possible to be so excited just to have met a nice guy and breezy, it was like under the influence of some powerful drug, but was feeling anything but negative, then it was not worth asking too many questions.

"Maybe ..." Isa agreed, becoming darker in the face and back into the kitchen to get back in the kitchen.

Simon was a bit 'disappointed by that reaction, but wasted no time and ran up the stairs. Erika was thrilled as she ... that envy had not always had the upper hand, which had already happened in the past and brought them to the brink of breaking their friendship.

"And when you see? 'Isa was, back on his feet, her face raised to the landing stairs in the middle.

Simon froze and turned, trying not to let it shine his satisfaction. "Who?" He asked, making a fake dumb.

"You and the guy you know." His mother's expression was neutral, as if he had not realized how Simon was exalted, or as if he was deliberately ignoring.

"How do you know?" She again asked, amused.

"I'm your mother, Isa said, lowering his eyes to the floor as if remembering something. A Simon seemed to see her sigh. "And I am a woman, as old now."

"Oh, you! However, I still know nothing, for now we've just talked about stuff '... think, I met Saturday night at the disco, and luck would have it I've seen now in place, it is not ...? "

"Coincidence" said Isa for her. "A fortunate coincidence."

"Precisely. I thought it was a Saturday stupidotto but today I spoke ten minutes and I find it fascinating, fun ... "He shifted his eyes dreamy and swayed from side to side with the whole body, holding the handrail as the railing of a ship was driven by crashing waves.

"I'm happy for you," said Isa, but his eyes seemed to tell another story.

"Do not say" Simon objected fact, suddenly becoming serious, like a child that some kids were threatening to steal your favorite toy. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, I figured," he hastened to justify Isa, recovering energy. "I'm just tired, but I'm glad to see you so. Are you ... Solar. "He made a smile.

"True," confirmed Simon, returning to the state of exaltation and lightness typical of falling. "I can not even explain to you what he sent me, has not done anything in particular. It made me laugh, yes, maybe it was that, but not only. Maybe when they speak of love at first sight think of something like this, inexplicable. I do not know if you ever, even with dad, but at some point it was as if ... "

"As if I knew him all along?" Ventured Isa.

"Exactly. It's happened to you? This is my first time. "

"It happened to me, yes," he recalled, unable to withstand the gaze of his daughter. "Not with his dad, but it means nothing, now I'm fine with him. But I've tried what you say and I understand perfectly. "

"And is not it wonderful?"

"Yes," said Isa, but the words seemed sharp shards of glass that came out of his mouth, lips martoriassero. "Incredible," he added.

"Perhaps not the right time" even suggested Simon. "I've found a lot of stupid, who knows ..."

"Do not go too fast now," he interrupted excitedly Isa. "Non .. expects to make plans. "

"You're right. Anyway I gave him the number, was stronger than me. If you were to call a guy ... "

"Okay, I understand," the anticipated his mother.

"And do not say anything to Dad, for now. You know him ... "He did not finish the sentence, but Isa knew that he was referring to the fact that Aldo was jealous of her daughter and did not see a good eye on the kids who came with her, especially considering that at nineteen years he was still little more than a child.

"All right. However he is basically happy, wants you to be happy. If he saw you now would be in seventh heaven. But I'll shut up for now.. "And then it was never more certain that he would keep his promise. There was no alternative, however.

"When he comes back, anyway?"

"They were a new customer, in Florence, he and his representative, must know that when you find new customers want to be there personally, because he says that the business owner has to put his face first. I do not think I'm home before ten o'clock tonight. "

"Um, okay." Simon thought it was getting excessively late. "I'm going to finish studying now."

"Vai, vai. If you succeed "joked Isa, dedicating another tiring smile. Then she went, feeling the weight of a terrible millstone gravarle on consciousness.

***

Eventually Erika took the news anything but negative, revealing a loyal friend. "I'm happy for you," he said to Simon on the phone, after she had told her the details of the meeting with Fabrizio and she had let go a thousand fantasies of how she could continue the story. "Even if I repeat that I would not bet five hundred pounds on a guy like that, thinking about how you are you and how I saw it Saturday night ..."

"Never mind, it's strange for me," Simon revealed. "I can not explain it, it's the same feeling I had when we met at ' Omnia : I draw a lot, but I do not know what I like in him. It is a set of physical appearance ... "

"On what nothing to say, looks good," agreed Erika.

"... and attitude, which is halfway between the arrogant and naive like a child trying to look bigger than it is. "

"Wow, what a comparison!"

"Only one fact is certain: you can not wait to meet him to understand better if you are just infatuated or if there may be something serious."

"You just have to wait for the phone call."

"Exactly."

***

And the call of Fabrizio was not long in coming. Two days after their meeting, while Simon was in the bathroom in the shower and his mother, he allowed himself a moment of relaxation in the company of a novel he had given Aldo returned from his travels, the phone rang. Isa was to pick up the phone, making a crease at the corner of the page that had come not to miss the mark.

"I am" a male voice announced expressionless and tone down the other end.

"Keith?" Isa said, frowning and squinting behind the lens for reading. But it was not her husband, did not like him at all.

"No, I "repeated the other.

"Please do not make it sof ..." he began, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"I'll do what I have to" cut her off abruptly. "Passamela."

Sighing, Isa put the phone and looked over the stairs, shouting for her daughter.

***

"Hello?" Simon said breathlessly. She had run out of the shower and had hastily tied a towel around the body to reach the phone in his room.

"Simon?" It was the voice of Fabrizio. "So I've pulled a bin, the number was right."

"Apparently," she agreed, amused and hearts pounding. It felt good, satisfied, like a fish that had finally found the water after terrible minute dry. Fabrizio was fresh air for her and wondered how he ever got to that level for so little and so little time. "But that means nothing."

"It depends. Meanwhile, it gives me the opportunity to ask you if you have to do. "

"When?" Simon said, more and more excited. The node that had melted and the towel slipped from the body, leaving her naked, but not even noticed it. His attention was devoted entirely to the invitation of Fabrizio.

"Now," said Fabrizio. He liked to give short answers and unclear, as though they are in revealing his plans point by point, in response to questions intrigued by Simona.

"I ..." Simon looked around, as if his commitments for the rest of the afternoon were written in mid-air. He realized he was standing in the middle of the room as the day she was and retrieved a towel from the ground to cover. "Not now, I'm free, but what ...?" It was Thursday afternoon and did not understand what he was intending Fabrizio. Nevertheless, it was pulled back, although he had promised his mother that she tidied the room and he would give her a hand for dinner.

"Well, then I wait half an hour where we met the other day. I do not know the country well and I do not know where you live, there can go. "

For a moment Simon was about to suggest they get home and explain how to get there, but did not. It was objectively too early for that, even though it was well aware of how rationality had taken a holiday and had given way to impulsivity and the impulse of passion. "It is better to see us one evening?" Suggested, a little 'embarrassed, because that sentence was passed by the courted to that of corteggiatrice, in which he had never found at home.

"Hey, you want to start immediately on the fourth," Fabrizio said jokingly.

"No, I did not mean ... it's just that today I have a very long time, I had to ... I thought that we could speak more quietly one evening, when we have a drink ... "

"Quiet, I'm not going to steal a long time, I just have to give you something."

"A ...? What? "

"I'm not telling, but I'll wait in the country. Just ten minutes. A kiss. "And hung up.

Simon was speechless. He was intrigued and loved to be pervaded by a sense of the genre, adored Fabrizio who had been the cause and decided not to waste a single second. He had to see it. A kiss, told her to say hello, and, taking off the towel and wearing panties, she thought she would do everything to give him a real one as soon as possible. A tingling between her legs suggested that if they create the appropriate conditions would not stop at that.

Without realizing it, had become totally dependent on Fabrizio.

***

The day had been sunny and the temperature was made comfortable by an abnormally warm wind. When Simon reached the tobacconist, his hair still damp despite the recommendations of his mother, there was no sign of Fabrizio. He looked around in search of his car, but did not see it parked anywhere. He put his hands in his coat pocket and waited, deciding that if he had agreed, after their meeting he would accompany her home in the car.

After about ten minutes, from a side street where he was than the tobacco, Fabrizio sprang. Was holding a large bouquet of flowers and, as soon as he saw Simon, he dedicated one of his distinctive and hypnotic smile. He raised his free hand to greet her.

Simon felt the adrenaline invade the body as soon as he saw it. He felt the irresistible urge to run to him, hug him and passionately kisses drown. It was not from her but it was not important. And then he was presented with flowers: nothing but jerk, as he had hastily called Erika disco, Fabrizio was proving to be a boy from another era, romantic, serious, with values.

"Sorry I'm late," he began when he joined her. "I did not think that the florist was so crowded at this hour."

"Valentine's Day is approaching," said she, unable to resist the temptation to peek at flowers in the deck, that Fabrizio was still holding so that they were almost completely hidden from view. "You do not mean that ...?"

"Exactly," he confirmed, satisfied. "They're for you. But it's not about Valentine's Day, not yet. Consider them a gift of thanks. "

"And for what?" Simon asked again, that was all eyes for Fabrizio and his flowers.

"For me deigned for your interest. You're a wonderful girl, better than any girl has ever dreamed of meeting. Saturday night I came home destroyed by shame and disappointment, but when I saw you again here the other day and we chatted as if I were reborn. "He paused, then added:" I did not do is think about you every single moment in these two days, "assuming a serious expression and melodramatic. He handed her a bouquet of flowers.

Simon took it as a tear of emotion ran down from the corner of the eye. She brought flowers to his nose, and their perfume intoxicated. There were ten beautiful red roses, the most beautiful and fragrant she had ever found in his life. He shook the deck against his chest and stared with eyes in love with Fabrizio. "Thanks," he said, his voice cracking.

"Thank you," he said. "And now I let you go, you'll have plenty to do and do not want to steal any more time."

"No, wait," Simon stopped him, at that point would have been too willing to drop everything and run away with him across the world.

"No, really. I just wanted to take this moment to make you understand what you mean to me and what if you could be born among us something more. And now, if you like, I wanted to ask you out together on Tuesday evening. At dinner, maybe. "

"Sure," Simon agreed, even before he had finished his sentence. Next Tuesday would be the Valentine's Day and certainly Fabrizio had planned everything to perfection. If he had been able to emozionarla like that with a simple gift like a bouquet of flowers, who knows what would have reserved the evening memorable.

"Well. Great "exulted. "We put ourselves in agreement over the phone, I'll call the next day."

"Whatever."

"So ... hello. Thanks again, "he greeted, retreating back to the car that had parked in the side street.

"Wait," Simon stopped him. She stepped toward him and, with the scent of roses that still pervaded the air around her, like soaking in a dimension beyond death only made of love, put an arm around his neck and pulled him. She put her lips to his gently. The felt warm and soft. She kissed him passionately for an unspecified time, barely controlling his body, who seemed attracted by Fabrizio to the point of wanting to merge with him.

When detached, they were to settle in the eyes for a few seconds. Fabrizio was serious, Simon still had his eyes shining with emotion. "I'm waiting for your call," he said.

"Do not miss" he reassured her.

"I love you," said Simon, as if in ecstasy, staring, his arm free from the flowers along the left side.

"It's a great start," said Fabrizio, turning around and coming back from where he had arrived.

Simon watched him walk away, thinking it was better to go home alone or he would have jumped on the car.

***

"I've never seen her like this," said Erika. They sat in the kitchen of his house and drank hot tea and repassed history for the task of the next day. Simona had a hard time focusing right away, the more eager to tell his emotions to memorize facts that occurred decades earlier. And so, after trying in vain to bring the afternoon on the tracks of duty, Erika had surrendered and gave her rope.

"Not even I have never felt so," confirmed Simon. From the first day, when Fabrizio had given her roses, she started to count the minutes that separated her from Tuesday evening. It was also felt stupid for not having asked for her phone number, to be able to contact first, without waiting for him should wish to call it yet.

"But it all started as a joke ... And now, I swear, give me the impression of someone who has found the man of her life. You look like the princess that was saved by the prince who has broken the spell. "He smiled to shake off the strange feeling that the eyes of Simon, who reacted to his words as if they were the real truth and not a deliberate provocation, the aroused.

"Did you use the right words" confided fact. "That's right, it's like I found my perfect half and something inside me had recognized instantly. Because it's as if my heart was traveling faster than my mind, as if he already knew to be my man before I am aware uscendoci and knowing him better. "

"Capers" said Erika surprised. "If I did talk in questions of this beautiful half'd be the first class."

"Stupid." He reflected a moment, undecided whether to outsource the new thinking that it was facing in the mind. Erika had the impression that he wanted to take advantage of the moment of silence to bring attention to the history books, so he decided to put a little 'pepper the conversation. "You know something else? I ... I just noticed that attracts ... physically. "

"Yes, I've already said the" Erika reminded her, closing his book, resigned.

"No, I mean ..." Simon explained, lowering his eyes and shrugging.

"What the fuck ...? "Erika broke, unable to stop in front of externalization of the genre. "But what have you become? A nymphomaniac? "

Simon blushed, embarrassed. "It's the first time I have. You're right, I feel un'assatanata, as if I were the boy and the girl himself. Why is it so, he seems very romantic and at the moment is not giving me the idea to think that just like everyone else. Too bad I have to think ... "he added, amused.

Erika opened his mouth and shook his head. "I do not believe my ears," he said. "At this point it makes me think the worst for Tuesday evening."

"No, not that" Simon assured her, returning more serious. "I have enough self control to remember what happened to me some years ago and did not allow me sooner than necessary." But he was not entirely certain.

"I hope so" said Erika. "Listen, I'll go if we continue to go over? Although after what you told me I will struggle to find the thread ... Holy God! "

Simon bit his lower lip, holding back a smile.

***

Tuesday night, Fabrizio stood before the house at eight o'clock, right on schedule. In the days before, Simona had not spoken to him nor his mother of their appointment. When he was returned home with a bouquet of roses in his hands, Isa had seen her, but she had asked nothing, pretending to be too busy. Simona had interpreted the reaction as a disappointment and was no longer the speech went Fabrizio, indeed, even Isa, but seeing her happy and carefree in a suspicious way, had made no application.

Only that afternoon Simon announced he would be out for dinner, asking his mother to go along with the excuse that he intended to tell his father that he was going to a restaurant with some friends on the day of St. Valentine, to exorcise their being "single". Isa had assured her that would hold up the game, if ever Aldo, who had forecast back in the late evening, he asked her something, often took most of his work to the point of take off any residual interest, including that for the life of his family.

When Fabrizio parked in front of their gate, Simon was in his room and was completing preparations. Occurred while the eye shadow might bestow, he heard a car and ran to the window and discovered with horror that it was really him, he had reckoned that it would split the second and did not intend to keep him waiting in the car . But even the prospect of it into the living room was not the best.

Heart pounding with excitement and haste, he gave an arranged her hair and ran down the stairs, intending to go out and assure him that he would have reached a moment, that the waiting car. But no sooner had he reached the landing she heard the front door open.

A few more steps and stood in front of the scene that he wanted to avoid. Fabrizio on the threshold, elegant beyond belief, and so kept his face to give the impression to issue its own light, and Isa in front of him, strangely silent, his hand still firmly on the door handle. Both became aware of his presence but only Fabrizio looked in his direction.

"Hello" she greeted him, embarrassed. He thought that coming face to face with the mother of his girlfriend was one of the most hated men and was sorry to be so stupid as to allocate Fabrizio due to the delay. "Sorry, I ..."

"No problem, they are early," the calmed him, lying. "Beat well to prepare yourself if you do not mind waiting here." He looked at Isa waiting for a response.

"No, please," she murmured, uneasy. Fabrizio took a step back and shut the door Isa.

"I'll subitissimo, then," Simon assured him, turning back in the room. "If you take a seat across ..."

"No thanks, I stay here, no problem" declined Fabrizio, assuming a posture of waiting with his hands in his pockets and hips slightly thrust forward. Simona holed himself in his room, while Isa returned quietly to the kitchen. Fabrizio followed her out of the corner of the eye.

Ten minutes later they were ready to go. "Do not wait up" advised Simon to his mother in the kitchen. "Hello. Greet also the father. "

He got no answers.

***

"I have two surprises for you," Fabrizio announced as soon as they were in the privacy of his car.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you with my mother," said Simon, following the line of thoughts in his head, and hardly realizing what had just heard.

"How embarrassing, I do not bother. Rather, she seemed uncomfortable. "

"Um, you're right. It was strange, it is usually more talkative. "

"It will have some thoughts on his mind. It happens to the mothers ... "she smiled.

Simona dedicated to him a sweet look. He seemed to remember something very important. "What you said about two surprises?"

"There you are!" Said Fabrizio amused. "I have two. The first is that I'm not going to go to dinner at a restaurant. "Simon tried to remain unmoved by the news, even though her stomach growling for a while 'and had already imagined in front of a steaming risotto with seafood . "And the second is that I have in mind a special place to spend the evening, a place where I am sure that you have never been brought."

"Do not take this for granted, I have seen many places here in the area ... not necessarily with other kids, I mean "specific Simona.

"Anyway, since I realize that the first surprise might not be just fine for you, I prepared a little something to eat, but a simple dinner for a little 'particularly, by candlelight." Fabrizio looked at the expression of Who was going to drop the royal flush in front of the opponent's aces. With the hand pointed to a plastic container in the back seat.

"I have no words," Simon said, genuinely surprised. Fabrizio was an endless source of excitement. "I'm sure will be an unforgettable evening."

"Then I'll do everything because the memories for a lifetime" he promised.

And, for better or for worse, it went really well.

***

Simon would never have been able to say how long traveled - had his watch and he did not pay attention to what was in the car, he was so rapt in conversation with Fabrizio - or that roads traveled. He got my license recently and knew just the usual routes that led to school and attended the local weekend. Moreover, it had never been good at orientation.

Parma reached and crossed, then walked through a series of small towns that Simon could not remember ever having visited and finally found themselves coasting along cultivated fields for a time that would have seemed interminable, if the proximity of Fabrizio had not made it so nice . At some point they began to rise and Simon realized that their goal was to be somewhere in the hills. The temperature was less cold than usual, and the sky was clear, so it was unlikely that Fabrizio had in mind a dinner under the stars. The idea was adorable, different .

"Once," he announced at the end Fabrizio, parking the car on the side, behind a small hill covered with tall grass and bushes, including the moonlight showed off a gravel path that went up. "This is my secret place, and in a little 'know him too."

"What an honor," said Simon, looking at the area and observing, not without some discomfort, they were far from any town and that there was no one, not even a car on the streets. From the opposite rim of the road began a forest of beech, which excluded the sight of the landscape of the plains in the distance.

"Come on. We'll have to walk a bit ', but it's worth it. "Fabrizio got out, then opened the back door on his side and retrieved the container with the impromptu dinner. "What is it?" Simon asked, seeing her hesitate.

"I put heels" she explained. "I did not know ..."

"Oh, I ... excuse. However only a hundred meters up, nothing that ... than you take off your shoes and socks went in, it will be fun. Adventures to tell. "She smiled and that was enough to reassure Simon, who went down in turn.

It was slightly colder than when they left the air and the pungent pinched, making her the goosebumps on her legs covered only by thin tights. Before closing the door, he decided he could do without her purse and left it on the seat. At the same time, he hoped that Fabrizio had planned to light a little fire to warm up in anticipation of a further drop in temperature that would have been inevitable, nearing night.

"Follow me," he invited her. He retrieved the container that had placed on the roof of the car and shut it and went back to the path between the bushes. He wore only a light coat, unbuttoned for more, but showed no signs of suffering from the cold. He was clearly excited to have accompanied his girlfriend in his secret place, like a child ready to show his best friend to the tree house.

Simon stood behind him, at the risk of tripping and breaking the heel of the shoes at least three times in just a few meters. What not to put it at its current projects of the evening "sport" was a chance by Fabrizio, had it not been so enraptured by him, would send to that country. Instead took patience, pretending not to hear the grit that crept uncomfortably under his feet and that twigs scratched shoes, socks and clothing.

"Are you there?" He asked Fabrizio halfway up.

"More or less," she said, leaning forward to move the center of gravity trying to pull of a handle. The heels proved to be useful to get a grip on soft ground and to avoid slipping on the ice like spurs.

"Come," he said to her, placing the container on the ground and held out a hand. He took it and shook it firmly, pulling her to him and giving her the impetus to go further, to the top of small hill overlooking the road. "Here," the informed "from then on is less steep, almost."

"Thanks," said Simon, looking ahead, while he joined her. Under the pale glow of the moon, the view presented her with a filter of magic and romance: in the immediate vicinity could see the path that went on, flanked on both sides by willow trees that had to be, although he could not say for sure, in the distance stood out the Apennines. Everything was wrapped in the deepest silence, as if nature had decided to isolate under an invisible dome, to allow them to spend the evening in the privacy they deserve.

"It's fantastic," he said. Fabrizio was beside her, and had stopped to admire the same show.

"What did I tell you? And then the evening is even better, we often come just for that. "

"Are not you afraid?" She marveled, thinking he or she was vulnerable, the typical couple of horror movies, easy prey for any homicidal maniac.

"I'm not afraid of anything, I" sanctioned him and a tremendous moment to Simon thought he saw his eyes catch fire. Then he realized that his influence had made serious look and a stupid reflex. "Scherzo" Fabrizio continued, returning to smile, conscious of having made her afraid to take with her playful expression. "However, it is a place so lost that not even the crooks attend, in my opinion, so we should be safe."

"Well," said Simon, hoping he was right.

"Come, come," said Fabrizio, walking again.

Simon followed him. The road was actually a little flatter, but struggled to keep the same pace. The only positive note was that warmed and bore the cold better.

After about fifty yards they reached a grassy area large enough. At that point the trail disappeared, scattering in the high grass, and trees became more distant, as still and silent spectators on the edge of an arena. Maybe it was just an impression, but Simon seemed to sense a temperature less rigid, as if the vegetation acted as a shield, creating a more comfortable microclimate.

"Here we are," announced Fabrizio, placing the container on the ground. "If you want to get comfortable I brought a couple of towels." He opened the container and pulled them, stendendoli on the grass next to each other. Then retrieved a paper wrapper in which they were wrapped five long candles, took one and put the rest. With the help of car keys dug a tiny hole in the ground and planted the candle.

Simon was watching kidnapped, his arms folded, breathing heavily for the difficult walk. He could not deny that it was Valentine's Day more special in his life and his experiences in general one of the most intriguing and strange.

Fabrizio was trying to light a candle with a match. When he succeeded, the light emanating from the small flame, combined with the pallor of the Moon, increased the feeling of being in an enchanted place, outside of space and time, far from civilization.

Fabrizio returned to rummage in the container. He took my hands a bowl covered with a thin layer of aluminum and placed it on one of the cloths lying, passandosela first front of the nose to savor the aroma. "Seafood salad," she announced, imitating the cadence French, in front of a surprised as amused as Simona, still standing before him as if waiting for the end of an important ritual that would not spoil. Hear the name of the food caused her stomach another bite.

Fabrizio took out a plate, also covered with aluminum, and placed it beside the bowl. "Roast beef, just to do some 'fish and a little' meat ..." described, ending the sentence with the tone of suspension. "... And finally a nice salad that we eat scondita, because I forgot oil and salt together to head home, probably."

Simon laughed. "Sure it is in there too?" Jokingly asked, pointing to the container.

"Hmm" thought Fabrizio, looking inside. "No, but there's something else that might make her miss you too, my head." She reached out and retrieved a bottle of red wine. "Nero d'Avola" introduced him. "I do not know if it suits the things we eat, but I like it a lot."

"Me too," she lied Simon, who had never tasted.

"You take a seat, then?" He invited.

Simon sat on one of the two towels on the floor, feeling the cold and damp of the underlying soil against my butt and legs. Fabrizio took his seat beside her. The candlelight played with the shadows on her face. "How about if we start?" He suggested. "I'm as hungry as hell."

"Tell me about it," Simon agreed.

"Then, go!" Fabrizio began to remove the film from the bowl with the fish.

"Anyway ... thank you, "Simon murmured, becoming serious blow, and feeling within himself a joy and a satisfaction that almost made her cry tears of emotion. She had never been so well before then.

***

"Are you cold?" Fabrizio asked when they had finished dinner.

"A little '," admitted Simon, enchanted by the wonderful evening, but really cold. And even frightened by a light mist that had risen around them. Fabrizio had hoped that something more in Serbia Canon for the rest of the evening.

"Can I hug you?" But instead he asked in a sweet voice and an expression that Simon would never forget. In that moment he felt that he could marry him and become his companion for eternity.

"Sure," he said, seriously. She saw him get up and go on his towel, sitting beside her. He sensed the smell was pleasant and natural scent of his skin, his clothes, his hair. Fabrizio wrapped his shoulders with one arm and held her close. Simon let himself be led against his chest, where he rested his head, then took his free hand and took her right thigh. The sensation of heat was immediate.

They remained in that position for several minutes in silence. Simon was happy, light as it had ever been in his life, as if Fabrizio had performed at a state of inner peace, elimination of any form of negativity. It literally felt drugged, but only in the positive sense of the term. He had visions of herself, at that very closely tender embrace, but at thirty, fifty, seventy, forever young, forever strong, forever in love the same way as her man.

Then, as if impelled by a force outside its control, lifted his head and turned it up, gazed into those of Fabrizio.

He, who was enjoying the time with staring into the trees and the fog that surrounded them, returned the gesture. He leaned forward slightly and put his lips to Simona. He held her more tightly against himself and ran his hand over his tights.

Simona lost any inhibition, if he had ever had. He opened his mouth, turning the soft kiss of Fabrizio in an explosion of repressed passion, as if waiting for this moment for years. Feeling pinch and stroke, is better positioned, sitting in front of him and bringing both hands on the neck. She stroked his hair and pulled him at once, as if to give more strength to the kiss as a gesture to want to turn into almost violent, painful.

Fabrizio let his hands were moving gently along the body of Simon, first on the legs, then back, then again on the legs and from there on his ass. Simona showed no sign of being annoyed and continued to kiss passionately. Around their faces breaths are condensed, the fog grew thicker and the temperature fell further.

At the height of passion, Simona Fabrizio took his hand and slipped it under the coat and into her shirt, causing him to shake a breast. The feeling of the warm hand of him against his skin cold blew the excitement waiting just below the surface and a moment later they were both lying one above another.

***

Later, Isa was lying supine in his bed, unable to sleep. Beside her, Aldo was snoring heavily. He was annoyed when he heard that Simon was not at home, he said because it was impossible for him to come out even on Tuesday, Valentine's Day or Valentine's Day. In fact, Isa was convinced that he was disappointed because he could not see her until tomorrow.

In the distance, church bells rang twelve strokes. Simon was still outside, somewhere, with that damned. He changed the rules, even. Why her, then? He had never done before? In any case, had put in a horrible situation. Would have to bear that burden much longer than expected. It would have had to put up a plausible story to deflect the inevitable anxiety that Simon would hit.

"There?" Aldo moaned, turning and stopping for a moment his loud snoring.

"What?" Isa murmured, brought to reality.

"She's back?" He seemed to talk in their sleep, as if he were dreaming.

"Yes," lied Isa. "It's already been asleep for a while '."

"Um," said Aldo, starting to sleep.

It was not the case that we cared, not because Simona innervosisse who was doing the small hours. Fewer questions he had done on that evening, the better. Her poor daughter would have had enough problems to think about.

***

The next morning, a very sleepy Simona did not have time to set foot in the classroom and Erika ran to meet her, visibly revving. A couple of their classmates devoted to an eloquent look, and began to talk about the facts that their waiting time arrived for the start of classes.

"So? Tell me everything, how did it go? "Said Erika, almost engulfing her friend.

"Very well," Simon answered without hesitation. Back with the mind of the wonderful moments the night before returned energy and smile. He returned home after two in the morning and yet she could not close my eyes for a long time, because the images of the evening followed one another in his mind like frames of a replay endlessly. It was a perfect experience.

"Where did he reach? A romantic dinner? "The euphoria of Erika seemed a tad excessive, probably trying to hide some feeling less friendly.

"Oh, can not imagine what" confirmed Simon tightly. "Do not ever believe it."

"Tell me, tell me," urged her.

"Not now, not here," Simon said, pointing with his eyes the rest of the classmates sitting at their desks. "Be patient, I will tell you everything. All around , "he added, unable to suppress a smile.

Erika's eyes widened and jaw dropped. In his eyes lit up, however, a wrong light, which clashed with the wonder that he wanted to convey with his reaction. It was a light that looked a lot like a bolt of hatred. "My God, do not tell me ..." he began.

The bell rang and Simon walked past her friend to go and take a seat. Erika turned and followed her, as she felt a tremendous fear that it was a hold of her.

***

"I do not know how happy I am for you," Erika announced a few hours later, during the interval, after which Simon had it made aware of every detail of your evening. During the term of the story of Erika had known any sudden change to become paralyzed in disbelief when he reached the climax. "But let me tell you who ... confused, amazed by you and ... "

"I know, I had made a promise, but is not as simple as you think. If I were in my shoes you would understand that Fabrizio is a man like you should, maybe the person who ... "

"Here, still, I want you here" he interrupted. "The Simona I know I will not stop at appearances but goes to the bottom of things. And with all due respect, I think ten days is not long enough to know a guy you've never spoken before. "

"Are you kidding?" Simon asked, suddenly becoming suspicious. She had expected a reprimand from Erika, but playful, friendly, as was his style, while the impression was that her friend was doing a lecture itself, a criticism of his behavior, as if she were his mother and spoke to a naive girl.

"No, I'm serious," agreed Erika, hardening his gaze even more. His intention was only to warn of a dangerous infatuation as easy as that, it seemed, had already resulted in something important. If Fabrizio had not revealed what appeared to Simona she would find herself in a situation even worse than those who had lived in the past because it was larger, had the conviction to be gained and more thoughtful in their choices and, especially, was some he had met his soul mate. "Do not misunderstand, I ..."

"No," Simon blurted out, staying dall'alzare voice only because near it stood a lot of other guys. "I understand all too well. Are you angry, right? "

Erika knew that he had taken a dead end, but it was too late. I read in the eyes of Simon, who flashed. In the future it would be asked how it was possible that he had made so little infuriating to the point of questioning their friendship. "Simon, wait, no ..."

"I stop at appearances? I ? With what I went through? "Simon felt pervaded by a rage that had rarely tried and could not give an explanation, if not the one that Erika, with her words and her poorly concealed reactions, seemed like a threat, an obstacle he wanted to come between her and the culmination of a dream of love with the person who first made her feel certain emotions.

"I said to myself ..." Erika tried again to intervene.

"What the fuck are you, jealous?" He raised his voice slightly, attracting some curious eye on them. "We're on the bales like I found a guy who makes me happy ..." He hesitated, and this would allow her not to jeopardize the situation until it becomes unrecoverable if something had not pushed to go further. "... While you try for years and can not find anyone?"

Erika accused shot and did not see us anymore. The answer appeared in the mind, inviting as a hypnotic melody, sharp as the blade of a knife, destructive as a nuclear device. "Maybe because I do not go around and give it to the first one occurring" she chants, cold, his face reddening.

There was no time because Simon realized what he had heard. His hand rose and slammed her friend with a slap. For Erika just did not fall to the side. All the attention of the boys in the hallway of the school was directed at them, while Simon walked away briskly toward the class.

***

The days following were among the toughest in the life of Simon. It was divided in half between happiness for his wonderful relationship with Fabrizio, born by chance and started toward ambitious goals, and disappointment for the fight with Erika and the reasons that had led to the posting. There came to repent of their behavior toward the friend, but realized that if he had given way to explain and retract his positions, he might have avoided that spot on the perfection of the moment he was living.

Looking back at the break with Erika, she did not understand completely that it actually had made mad. Probably it was the simple fact that she had not quite found a particularly positive in his experience with Fabrizio, an attitude he says can not be shared, while Simon was convinced that everything he had done and was so glad not to tolerate anyone , including his best friend, who dared to find shortcomings in its history to romantic movies.

One thing was certain: his feelings, the last period, were amplified. The morbid attraction to Fabrizio, the sexual charge that had been unknown until then, the changes in attitude towards his mother and the ease with which he discharged his anger towards Erika were manifestations of a new aspect of his personality , something that had never experienced before and that he did not know to what cause to attribute.

In any case, Simon and Erika are ignored as they can only do two friends related as sisters when they come to a rupture. They did not speak, do not greet, they did not look even look up, and both lived with their uncomfortable proximity to the counter in the classroom. Not heard on the phone and did not meet either of the afternoon, during the week, as they always did, in the evenings or the weekend. To live the situation was worse than Erika, because she had other people you find at home, while Simon could count on Fabrizio.

They met often in the days after that fateful Tuesday night. Simon wanted to confide in about the problems you were born to Erika and at times had been sure that Fabrizio would have the right words to make her repent and help find a solution but when I finally could lay eyes on him, any negative thoughts to abandoned and left room only for love, admiration and serenity.

In those days, Fabrizio continued to be romantic and make it fun at the same time. He could alternate with moments in which skills playing the part of hard wastes females, others in which he put on show his hand by Romeo, all honey and poetry. Simon loved the mix and believed that it resided in the source of the attraction exerted on you Fabrizio, that attraction almost tangible , palpable as a cord under tension, that since their second meeting he had attached to him.

Never returned to what had happened on Tuesday night. Fabrizio did not mention it, nor gave a sign of regret or be embarrassed, and so did Simon. He appreciated the fact that he did not take the story of their physical relationship as an excuse to take her to bed again, and wondered how she felt no longer the same desire that had pervaded the previous day. It was literally prey excitement for days and at that moment there was left but a memory. Not that you repent of having granted to Fabrizio.

They met on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday afternoon of that week, always in front of the house of Simon. Fabrizio continued to keep a certain mysterious reticence on the precise place where he lived, when she was prevaricating on that speech. He also told her that for some time could not have been out together in the evening, though not explained why. But Simon did not ask questions: it was enough to know that would see him again, not when .

***

Ten days after Valentine's Day things had changed dramatically. The relationship between cold and Erika Simon had become frozen, but will suffer the greatest consequences was the first at school, Erika was very bubbly, always smiling and serene, while Simon felt slipping inexorably towards a bottomless pit. If everything had seemed bright and beautiful in the past days, suddenly a dark shadow had fallen on his life.

She kept seeing Fabrizio, but their meetings often turned into repetitive and monotonous moments, in which he had less and less new topics to talk about and she felt that the interest in him waned, as a child to whom the doll received for Christmas was beginning to appear less fantastic than they had dreamed. Sometimes I had the impression that Fabrizio was satisfied that his purpose was to approach her and establish a relationship, but not to cultivate it and grow it up to get something really important for both. Some other times it seemed instead that he was waiting, as if waiting for Simon to make the first move ... although he would not know what to say.

Another reason for concern was his mother. Isa had clearly changed his attitude towards the evening when Simon was the first time out with Fabrizio. There was no attitude or speech gliel'avessero in particular that did understand, but it was a set of clues, starting from the expression perpetually pensive gaze and lost, as if Isa was fighting a personal, intimate battle against some unmentionable problem . At times he feared that Simon was hiding some information about the health of his father, but he was pretty sure that instead the focus was her and her affair with Fabrizio.

To worsen things permanently, transforming simple observations and concerns in a hopeless mess, Simon came to suspect that she is pregnant. He had never had more than one day late with the menstrual cycle, something which boasted Erika like action worthy of merit and dependent on his will. Thus, when the Friday of that week, he realized that his "friends" should have been present for at least three days, was absolutely certain that Fabrizio had left a gift for Valentine's Day he had not anticipated.

There was a reason why he had that certainty, but would have bet his life that he was wrong. On one side was the rational perception of something that was wrong as usual in his body, feeling that resembled those he experienced every month, but the same points of novelty. The other was the less rational belief that an unwanted pregnancy was problematic and the punishment for his stupid behavior. It was red hot for a guy that knew nothing objectively, in response to an instinct, an instinct, a strong and compelling, but still far from irrational and caution with which he had always endeavored to relationships with boys. She let herself go, beyond any imagination, and had broken the most important friendship of his life because Erika had noted its light weight: only then he realized how his violent reaction could have been caused by the realization that her friend was right, and anger for not wanting to admit to herself that you are wrong.

So fate, that kept the balance in the world and made it always had, made her fall into despair, after she had sold off a bunch of roses and a romantic dinner in the moonlight. Not only that, but put in a difficult situation without giving her the opportunity to confide with Erika, who would leave in its stock - and how could he blame her - forcing her to broach the subject with her mother, who certainly would not have accepted the Can the good news.

Any news , thought Simon on Saturday morning, unable to pay attention to the explanation of the teacher and concentrating for a sense of slight wetness between her legs. Because she did not have that one, hope that ultimately could be the first major delay of his life, and nothing more. He would no longer bragging regularity of your cycle.

Promised.

***

When she was a child, will have had eight or nine years, Simon was the influence and hit a fever with peaks of more than forty degree weather. At such moments he felt a great confusion and had the impression of seeing and hearing things that did not exist, but did not speak to Mom and Dad for fear that the sgridassero. When the fever went down a little was better, but lived the same as in a muffled world, differently, as if it was on the fringes, rather than inside.

One day, at that time, went to pee, while Isa was preparing the potato gnocchi - she remembered the embarrassment that arose from what happened. Sitting on the toilet, prey influence and sense of loss that it caused, it seemed that the pee faticasse out, as if his butterfly , as she called her mother, had closed. The idea terrified the: as he would not be able to pee? It would be dead or, worse, would have to take her to the doctor to re-open the hole!

It was covered with race and had slingshots from his mother. When he found his strength in his sight had failed and the fear was only narrowly failed to win sull'imbarazzo. Isa had told her horrifying discovery, blushing, and keeping his eyes down, he knew that it was strange to talk about those things, the butterfly was a secret thing like the penis of children. Also had told her friend to school.

Now, lying on the bed in his room, ten years old, felt rise within him the child she had been then. The context had changed dramatically, but after all the parties involved and the situation was the same: he should speak with the possibility that his mother was putting a child in the yard, the son of a boy who had been known for a few days. He should talk more about his butterfly , in a sense.

He thought a thousand alternatives, but none seemed to her good. Erika was out and Fabrizio would have run like hell: as different from other boys, he would never accept to become a father at twenty ... provided that she was his true age, since no gliel'aveva ever spoken. Even visiting a doctor was a possibility that Simon had rejected, first because it would have been even more embarrassed and second because Dr. Masoli was not the professional who would keep the secret: it would go well if he had been told only his mother, but probably within a few days would know half the town.

Then, the solution to confide in Isa was preferred because, though he could take it badly, and his mother still remained the last word was a word of comfort and support. As a woman, then, was not ruled out that might help her to open their eyes and discover that his suspicion was unfounded to be pregnant, the same way, years ago, after giving her a look between her legs, the had disheveled hair and with a loving smile, had said: "It's okay, honey. Vai and play. "

***

Isa was just out of the bathroom when Simon saw coming towards her with a strange expression. He had the advantage of knowing many more things, details that her daughter did not know, and that he expected the inevitable arrival of that moment, and then immediately had the certainty of knowing what he heard. He tried to reach the right mindset and hoped not to fall into error. It was the life of both, probably.

"Mom, you have a moment?" He asked softly with Simona. The eyes were small and dull, and his eyebrows were drawn like a cartoon character, very sad. She wore a simple pajamas and no shoes on, which gave the impression that he was even sick.

"Sure," said Isa, realizing that seem unnatural. The first thing he would say in a normal situation would be "What's wrong?" Because it was clear that Simon was afflicted by a serious problem. Just for that, however, seemed not to notice the reaction of the mother.

"I tell you something?" Simon continued, with those introductory questions that he hoped to delay as much as possible the moment when she had to spit it out. It was not yet fully convinced of his decision, but the die was cast.

"What is it?" Isa said softly, feeling fit within himself compassion and anger. She hoped that her daughter was reading the emotions in the face. "Come, let us sit in the room," he invited her, accompanying her in her room and sitting on the bed beside her. "Tell me."

Simon was silent a few more seconds, without finding the strength to look his mother in the eye. Pajama pants pinched nervously, like a toglierne Pelucco, then folded his hands and took a breath. Isa waited patiently. "I have a late," he spat out finally.

The room seemed to drop a silence more profound. Simona had expected and hoped with all of herself that her mother would say something, anything, even if it were to blame, because if he did not speak it meant that he was thinking and that they were forming in his mind pictures of her Fabrizio and do that thing . Simona is only then realized that maybe it was the embarrassment against Isa to frighten her, far more than the pregnancy itself.

"I've never had before?" Asked his mother a surprise, calmly but rather neutral.

"No," said Simona continuing to look to the carpet placed beside the bed.

"E. .." He hesitated, not knowing what terms to choose and trying not to bring out what was hiding inside. What they knew . "You have done something that could ...? I do not know ... "He swallowed. He did not think it would be so difficult.

Simon blushed tremendously. It got to the point. His mother was asking her, not so implicitly, if he had had intercourse. "I think so," would only reply. He thought there was no need to specify when and with whom.

"So you're pregnant?" Isa shot, sighing.

"No," I almost cried Simon. Not withstand more tension and began to cry. "I mean, I do not know yet for sure, but I'm afraid ... Do not get mad, Mom, I'm stupid, but I need help, do not know how ... "

"I'm not upset" the mother reassured her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "I'm not angry."

The understanding of Isa, contrasting with the disappointment that was expected, made her cry even more. "So what? What should I do? Let's do the analysis? And if you confirm? "

"Let's see," suggested his mother, calmly. "We're waiting."

"Wait what?" Simon turned to look at for the first time since they were sitting on the bed.

"Sometimes there are delays that are not know as they say, natural, not necessarily related to pregnancy. It can also happen that you are not at all. Maybe you're stressed, the school, the last year, the tests ... »

"No, Mom. Not that, I have no problems ... although I'd like to give me this explanation. "

"It's okay, we still have to wait. Do not say anything to anyone, neither Erika nor the father ... at that time we will have the opportunity and we will have time to prepare, always ... "

Simon was thinking that it would have trouble keeping it a secret from Erika and thought that the argument with her friend could be a source of stress that justify the physical reaction of his delay. Then, the hesitation of Isa had caught his attention. "Provided that?" The urged.

"I do not want to scare you, but if you were pregnant ..." and that word he noticed his daughter's face that changes color and his lips were trembling, "... see, the first pregnancy is often difficult, I often heard even young girls who do not carry it out because in the first month, even in the first weeks, the higher the risk of losing ... what it is. "

Simon was stunned. "But .." he began, and wanted to vent his disapproval of her mother's words, he was describing the possibility of a miscarriage as a providential event and an opportunity to resolve the problem and insabbiarlo. However he stopped, realizing that in his request for relief to the mother and her attitude was clearly desperate she was to convey the idea that did not want to have a child.

The fact was that, too focused on the thought of how and when to tell her mother, had not found time to reflect on what he meant to do her first. There were two alternatives: to keep the baby, even if it means doing it alone and let go of Fabricius, or abortion, which is believed to want to exclude a priori a number of reasons. The third possibility was that he had exposed and Isa would be a middle ground, but the way in which he was presented to Simon seemed too much like a hope.

"I'm not saying it definitely will happen" specifically his mother reading them in the eye. "But you can take into account and therefore does not make sense to put forward now by going to shake your father and talk to people ... at that time will be around. "

At this answer Simon liked best. There remained, however, wonder at the reaction of his mother, who had proved almost beyond understanding. He waited, as he had recommended her, and felt much better at the thought of postponing the day that should have made the news official. To give her strength, then, was the knowledge that you have found a strong ally in Isa, which would help in difficulties as a mother and friend. The only option was a doubt. "And Fabrizio?" He asked. "To him I say something?" Imagined that the answer was the same: to wait.

"I was just telling you. He must say absolutely, "said Isa instead. It did not seem entirely convinced of his words, as if they were out before he could stop them.

"Tell him that I suspect she is pregnant? And if it is not true? Should not I at least see it before? "

"Tell him that you're sure to be one. See how you react, you get an idea. And if you will only be a flash in the pan ... "

"But if you are scared for no reason? I'm afraid of losing it, I ... "

"He will not run" sanctioned Isa. "Take my advice: do not run away."

His tone brooked no argument and Simona, confused but calm down, no more. Isa embraced and hugged for a few minutes until she said she had to get off to prepare dinner.

***

If the time on the rationality with which his mother had heard the news was a relief to Simon, made its way in the hours following the idea that his calmness was unusual. It was likely that he was intimately processing the information and that he had placed between himself and the uncomfortable reality - that he had always shown - a barrier, not having to face until he had the necessary confirmations. In that case, Simon was convinced that the attitude of Isa would be radically changed and that he would go through hell.

One of the aspects which were not found in agreement with her was the need to inform you as soon as Fabrizio, even those who were still only suspected, although based on an actual abnormal delay. But playing with her boyfriend, at the beginning of a potentially fabulous history, and risk losing him for the undue haste to empty the bag was a fool. For that, before the evening of that day, Simon decided that tomorrow would buy a pregnancy test in a pharmacy and would have found the answers he sought.

***

Simon had made an appointment to Fabrizio in the center, because that's where they met the first time, excluding the daring adventure of all party ' Omnia , and there their history should find a new direction: one that would lead them to share the pregnancy and the birth of their son. The alternative was that the relationship broke sharply, but even then, Simon was right that happened there, where he was born.

Arrived first. The day was gray and cold, very different from those sunny with a couple of weeks before, when spring seemed to want to peep before it was his time to go on stage and the streets were semi-deserted, although it was Saturday afternoon. Simon saw a couple of elderly ladies, one was to be the Miglioli, chatting in front of one of the houses facing the main road, and a group of three boys out of the tobacco shop just discarded packets of coupons purchased.

Fabrizio was slow to come. He had always been very punctual in their appointments until then and Simona, prey to an agitation which had rarely experienced on other occasions, he tried to pass the time walking up and down the road. Mentally repeated the words he could use to explain to Fabrizio, who would become a father and decided he'd better just to avoid that term: Dad . He thought it would be huge, scary, unsettling. Much better to stay neutral and do not get too involved, not the beginning, at least. A simple "aspect of a child" could better adapt to the situation.

Impatient, Simon sat on one of the benches that were along the edges of the tiny park in the country. Instinctively crossed his legs and began swinging his foot nervously while suspended. Just when expectations Fabrizio, was able to experiment with new and more positive thoughts and assessed for the first time the possibility that what was happening to her would be a gift rather than a loss.

It would become a mother. She was nineteen and had created completely different projects, but who told her she would not have found better in that role? A child's, to grow, pet, educate. Hear it take shape and life to himself and accompany him to ...

Fabrizio appeared out of nowhere a few feet from her. It was to be released from the side street where he used to park the car and had taken her by surprise, tearing his reflections. Approached her with a face strangely serious and that, somehow, seemed older, as if in recent days there was covered with wrinkles. Tired was perhaps the right adjective. Even his hair was disheveled and the overall impression was of a tired person, just back from a hard day of work or a stressful experience.

"Hello" he greeted her. "At last we meet again!" Waiting to find the courage to face it, the last day Simon had invented the excuse that he had much to study, to avoid meeting him.

"True," said, trying to smile, but not trovandosene capable. As soon as she saw Fabrizio forces had abandoned her, her mouth was dry and his heart began to rave. He had a very strong knot in my stomach and knew that the only way to dissolve it was to go straight to the point.

"How are you? Tired of being on the books? "Fabrizio continued, now in front of her. He bent down and kissed her forehead. It stank of sweat, another element of absolute novelty.

"Enough," said Simon, without conviction. He did not know how to introduce the topic. "You want to sit here with me?" He wondered how he Fabrizio who had not realized that there was something wrong, then he said that maybe he was just avoiding to ask questions: after all, he was clearly different and she was doing him no attention.

"Sure," agreed Fabrizio, taking place on the bench. Simon realized that staring oddly and sensed in him a sense of anticipation, which confirmed his feeling: he knew he was going to become aware of important things. Probably also had a notion of truth, after all, was aware of what they had done and most likely his parents had explained that children are not the stork brought them.

"I tell you something?" Spat fatigue Simona like reliving a deja-vu. The situation recalled the moment in a mirror in which she had confided in her mother.

"Tell me," he invited Fabrizio, reassuring voice.

"Do you promise to listen to the end, not ..."

"Promise."

"I ..." Simon took a deep breath, closed his eyes and clenched fists. He was experiencing mental fatigue and even physical, as if about to jump with a parachute and fear tend nerves. "I could ... no, I'm ... expecting a baby. From you. "

He had done it. She managed to say. It was as if the resumption of movement, as if to return the oxygen in his lungs, as if she could free herself from a rope that had tied tight until then. But his heart did not slow down and pumped even harder, because Fabrizio stood in silence for a few seconds, that Simon seemed an endless time.

"Very well," he announced at last, triumphant and smiling, and the world around them changed.

***

Simon noticed the change immediately. The same tone of voice of Fabrizio was unrecognizable. He felt that talking was an incorporeal being, as when he heard the howling of the wind in the trees. He looked up, caught by surprise at this finding and the responses he had heard, and found himself catapulted into the worst nightmare of his life.

Around them, the environment was the same: there was the road through the village center, the ladies chatted and the kids exchanged figures, there was a small park with grass too high, because the people of the town were made seldom seen, and the bushes in which the dog to relieve himself adored Simona, there were gray skies and mist that covered the walls and windows of houses facing the square like a halo of mystery, which confused the outlines.

There was everything Simon had always known, but no longer moving, you and Fabrizio apart. It was as if immersed in a photograph, people placed in a plastic life-size, complete with faithful reproductions of other human beings. No noise, no smell, no sensation of temperature. The same bench on which they sat had become inconsistent, like a cloud.

And then there was Fabrizio. Beside him, Simon did not find the guy who was sitting a little earlier. He saw an anthropomorphic being wrapped in a dirty blanket that looked like a shroud, covered with dark red spots, which could only be dried blood, and other dirt, which caused a feeling of nausea at the sight only. The face that stared into his eyes in search of answers was deformed into a hideous grin, his mouth was a wound in the flesh, from which protruded teeth yellowed and chipped, as rotting ruins, his eyes were two black balls and shiny stuck at orbits, staring at her, projections and illuminated only by the reflection of the low light of day, the head was bald and wrinkled than the rest of the face where the skin, dark, scaly, piled creating deep ruts, as if it were extended and accumulated for centuries on the skull below.

"What. Thing. Happens? "Simon stammered, paralyzed in his position. Did not even notice when the bladder and gave a warm stream of urine to wet his pants and trousers.

"The time has come" to be sanctioned-Fabrizio, with ghostly voice, the divaricating horrible mouth. He raised his arms, along which slid the shroud and found two hands with long fingers and nails and lanky as rotten teeth.

Instinctively, Simon drew back and she would get up to get away as far as possible, but found he could not do it. All his mental strength was concentrated in assisting his desire to escape, but a higher power kept her tied to the bench. Trapped, his eyes shifted around in the vain hope that anyone in the audience back to life and ran to his aid.

As the nightmare he was living went beyond his understanding, the most rational had already understood that, whatever it was, would have to endure it passively until the end. He knew that he would awaken screaming in her bed, she knew that she would find herself lying on the floor of a nightclub with the aftermath of taking hallucinogenic drugs. It was all real. It probably would have been the end.

It was filled with a terror that he could kill her at any moment he felt that he could be disruptive out of breath, or my heart might explode in my chest, letting it fall to the ground lifeless, mouth gaping and eyes wide open, under the fierce gaze of the monster who had faced. The intensity of his fear was only comparable to the attraction that in the past days had tried against Fabrizio: an all-encompassing feeling, which excluded every other thought and made it less strong awareness of his own existence .

Simon began to shout loudly, marveling at being able.

***

Fabrizio, or what was left, remained unmoved by the cries. His terrible eyes blacks plush, dark as wells dug in his face, staring Simon continued, as his mouth opened slightly in the recitation of some incomprehensible phrase. The arms raised towards the sky made him look like a priest intent evocation of some mystery.

Simon stopped screaming and began to weep in despair. His voice hung around his head like dirt in a puddle, because even the air became still and the sound is not propagated. Alone and helpless in the face of his destiny, he hoped that the end giungesse as quickly as possible. But the horror he felt at seeing the being at his side who lowered his hands to his stomach as he was approaching them less intense.

Fabrizio had stopped talking. His eyes moved imperceptibly, following the movement of the arms. The monstrous teeth seemed to outline a tremendous smile as she leaned both hands against Simona coat, just below the stomach. The fingers were so long that reached the base of the neck, on which you could see a vein pulsating violently.

Simon felt a pang that the stabbing did scream again. Despite being the same as touching the clothes, he felt a bitter cold against the skin, just above the navel to the breast. But that feeling was nothing, because it was as if, when touched, the same Fabrizio also slashing his stomach with a sharp blade. Confused by blinding pain and terror, he heard tearing flesh wound and enlarge them as if he was opening a gift bag. For a moment, in the minds of Simona drew the image of his body hacked and mangled, the hand of the creature that is covered with his blood and sank in the gut, their legs writhing in pain before stopping totally devoid of life.

He had never suffered so. The wound in the stomach was burning as if she were being tortured with a blowtorch. Fabrizio began to press with your hands as if to penetrate deep inside her body. In a glimmer of lucidity, Simon wondered how he could still be conscious. He opened his eyes briefly and noticed how their hands were still being motionless, resting on his coat, and as he persisted in his bestial grin.

Devoid of any residual force, abandoned against the backrest of the bench, heard him speak again. " Redit in me face , "he proclaimed, and at that moment the pain of Simona peaked. He had the clear feeling of a tear in her body and thought that Fabrizio had detached cleanly through the heart. Then you would have wished that he had, because then she would die without having to experience moments of pain severe enough to take away your breath. Do not even found the strength to scream, or from continuing to cry. Her head fell back inert against his shoulder, eyes closed and a trickle of saliva that dripped from the corner of his mouth.

After a few seconds the hands of Fabrizio turned away from the coat. From behind the closed eyelids, Simon saw a strong light while a breeze caressed her face and tousled hair. The light faded, and soon after it disappeared along with the pain and fatigue that they were prevented from moving.

Simon opened his eyes and found himself on the bench, alone. Around her the world was back to normal: the kids were moving away from tobacco and the two ladies were saying goodbye, while passing a car on the road. He looked down at her stomach and saw nothing strange: the coat was intact, and even his body seemed untouched. Nevertheless, we eagerly slipped his hand under her shirt and felt her belly, finding smooth as ever and feeling a thrill at the touch of your fingers cool against the skin. Bewildered, looked towards the side street from which Fabrizio had come, but saw no one. Could he imagine it?

He did not have time to think, because it was invaded by a new emotion, that struck with the force of a hurricane soul. He could not define his feelings at that moment, but were very similar to listlessness, hopelessness, depression. Later, in retrospect, would have compared to a sense of loss, as after the death of a dear relative, when it seems to be impossible to resume their normal lives. Years later, he experienced the same feeling after giving birth Christina and the doctor gave the name of depression post partum .

One thing was certain, clear, undeniable, and that truth he brought with him another, albeit terrible what he had experienced was not a hallucination.

Fabrizio had taken away the embryo.

Simon got up on unsteady legs, and found the balance, he ran home crying.

***

In any other situation, if he was allowed a modicum of clarity and self-control and she had not been on the brink of madness, Simon would have noticed how his mother had reacted with unusual and inexplicable composure at the sight of his own daughter plunged into the house in a sea of tears. Isa was on the stairs, coming down from the first floor, so if you found it in front, face and legs counterfeit despair that gave way, making her kneel on the ground.

"Mom," she sobbed, bursting into tears even more disruptive and lifting her face to Isa. A crawl on the floor, was the image of pain.

"Good God!" Cursed Isa, hurrying to get out and handed her a hand to help her recover. "Simon! Simon! "

"Mama," she cried again. "I took him away! Tore me! "

"What?" Asked Isa, hugging and squeezing him stronger. "What have you done?"

Simon was like a dead body lying against her mother, her head resting in the hollow between the shoulder and neck and mouth pressed against the wool sweater Isa. "Fabrizio," she sobbed, feeling the cloth of wool against my lips. "It was not him! It was not a man, was a ... "

Isa squeezed even harder, strozzandole words. "Simon," he called again, as if waking from a nightmare. He felt a strong urge to cry with her, to vent his grief and his rage at being unable to tell the whole story, as her mother had done with her thirty-five years before. "Calm down, please. Stop crying, tell me what happened. " He began to stroke her hair to calm her down and move the fate of the desired effects.

"I have found with Fabrizio," said Simon, sniffling and fighting the spasms that threatened to shake the chest and prevent her from speaking. "To say I was pregnant, as ... As you told me. "

"You thought of being pregnant," Isa specific, beginning to implement his plan.

"No," denied the Simona. "I did a test, I'm really ... I was really pregnant. "

"Those tests are not sure one hundred ..."

"Let me talk?" Simon blurted out that he needed to blow off steam and not to feel criticized. "Sorry," she added quickly, starting to cry silently.

"Excuse you."

"I ..." he continued after a moment. "Do not believe me, but I'm not crazy."

"Tell me," urged the Isa, preparing to swallow another bitter pill. The more bitter.

"Fabrizio ... when I told him I was pregnant, it is ... became different ... I do not know how to explain it, maybe it was just as I remember, but it has become ... "

"Tell me," Isa said again, squeezing even more of himself and failing to restrain a tear.

"A monster," Simon spat. "Horrible, mom, be a horrible and old and ... supported me these disgusting hands on my stomach and ... My God, Mom, took my child, I did a bad dog and I felt that I tore out the guts, then he disappeared and left her there and ... "But the effort of memory had been excessive and Simona was overwhelmed by a fresh wave of tears and nearly fainted.

"Holy God, Simon," said Isa, holding it from falling to the ground. "Come," he said, accompanying her on the couch in the living room. Sat her down and sat beside her, watching her with love and compassion and stroking his forehead beaded with sweat. "He did not take it well, right?"

"What?" Said Simon opening his eyes.

"Fabrizio. It did not take the news well. "

Simon opened his mouth to speak, then checked himself. Suddenly her despair she had turned to disbelief in his eyes had lit a spark that threatened to escalate into a fire of anger. "No, Mom. Not what you think. Non .. "

"I do not think you're crazy, if that's what scared 'Isa assured.

"Thank you. But what I said is true, are not the type to make up some stories, I'd be the first to be ashamed, but ... "

"Simon ..." Isa began, lowering his eyes and appeared embarrassed, as if trying not to offend the right words. "Sometimes, when we live a great disappointment when we feel a great pain, mentally I mean, we have a distorted view of reality. I ... "

"Mom, please," begged Simon, shaking his head and beginning to cry again.

"I was a child I entered the room of my grandparents," continued her mother decided. "We lived with them and were very close. Especially I loved my grandfather. That day I went into his room, because strangely enough had not yet awakened: he was always a little nap in the afternoon, it was routine and it was as if he had a clock in his head that made him get up at the same time. But not that day. I went and saw him lying on the bed. Then - and now you'll be thinking I'm crazy - I saw a shadow by the window, a shadow that had a human form, but without defining features. I froze in the doorway and I could not say anything, to do nothing but watch. The shadow came over to his grandfather and those that had to be leaned his arms on his chest. After a few seconds I saw a small ball of light emerged from his grandfather's sweater and incorporated it the shadow, making it disappear. At that moment I closed my eyes and when I opened them, a second later, there was nothing. I went over and touched it to his grandfather. Not breathing. He was dead. I was absolutely certain of what I had seen was that shadow to kill him. I called my grandmother, who was in the next room, and told her that her grandfather had died. I explained what had happened and she hugged me without comment. He told me that his grandfather was now just where the shadow and that it would no longer bother us. "

"And what does that mean?" Said Simon.

"What your mind can create incredible visions to be explained in difficult times. I myself, long after, I realized that I had imagined it all. Looking back on those moments, I remembered having noticed immediately that his grandfather was not breathing, because he was snoring all the time, while the room was shrouded in silence. And then, near the window was a coat room, where my grandmother often leaned his black robe, which was also that afternoon. What I mean is that I knew from the first moment that his grandfather had died and that my mind had worked his way to the discovery. "

Simon shook his head again. "And in my case what we would have been so painful?"

"Think about it," urged her Isa. "How did you react when you told Fabrizio perhaps expecting a child by him."

"As I told you," said Simon, on the defensive.

"This is what he has seen your mind. But what really happened? Think about it. "

Simon had no words. The speech of his mother could make sense, certainly more than it had the appalling events just before, but she was convinced that things had gone differently. "I do not know. Anyway ... "

"I tell you, darling. Fabrizio must have reacted badly, as it probably would make most boys of his age. He must have said he did not want and that your story could be considered complete if indeed you had been pregnant and had not chosen to have abortions. Must have used strong words and have you offended, and I made you feel like an adventure occasional worthless, when you had placed so many hopes in you. And you, out of desperation, because I know you and I know how you react to certain things, you must have ... "

"Explain to me why I lost the baby, then?" Simon objected, nervously.

"How do you know you lost it? How do you know you have had, first of all? "

"I told you I did the test."

"And I told you that the tests, those do-it-yourself, are ...»

"Okay, but ..." But he did not know what to add. In fact, he could not explain precisely how it was sure she lost the baby, even if telling the time in which Fabrizio had torn him.

"Let's go to a gynecologist," proposed Isa, catching her by surprise. "On Monday, without saying anything to his dad. He will tell us if you are pregnant or if you have had an abortion. And you'll see that you will all be clear. Okay? "

"I do not know ..."

"Let's do this. But promise me that after you put your heart at rest and forget this bad experience and that stupid guy. "

Simon did not comment. It was not yet convinced, would not ever fully. But the solution of his mother came to his advantage. The pregnancy test had tested positive and, although not always correct, those tests were not reliable enough, then the gynecologist would have at least confirmed the pregnancy. He could also see that the embryo was still in place, something that Simon hoped with all my heart.

Why could not pretend to agree with her mother, but he never allowed herself to have been a hallucination, and after what he had experienced the joy of a child to grow, even without a man beside her, was what she needed. If the doctor had verified that she had an abortion, you probably would have collapsed and sunk into a deep despair, for having been the victim of a horrible fate, and so mad that I can not tell anyone, without being taken for a visionary.

"Okay," he agreed.

"Well," said Isa, a hint of a smile. "Come here," he invited her, spreading her arms in welcome. "My darling, this is a wrong world" sanctioned, stroking his back. "An unjust world, which only makes us suffer." And she thought sadly of how, by his attitude, she was contributing to the suffering of his daughter.

***

Erika was just in time to get off the last of the steps leading from the apartment building where he lived reached the sidewalk, when he noticed a figure on his left. He turned, startled by her presence, fearing that it was an unfortunate ready to attack her. When Simon saw, with eyes swollen with tears and his face torn by sadness, perhaps diverted from the negative thoughts that had caught her, she feared that her friend was recovering from some form of violence. "What ...?" He began.

"Please," Simon interrupted her crying desperately, his voice hoarse as someone who had screamed long. "Please, Erika, forgive me!"

Erika was forbidden. The broke my heart to see her friend in those conditions: Simona gave the impression of a person adrift, like a drunk dirty and sick by the roadside. Yet, every single morning last month, from the day they quarreled, she saw her friend and she seemed normal, although not to continue speaking to. Only a few hours before he was safely out of school after the end of lessons.

"I've got it all wrong," Simon continued, rubbing his pants at the thighs, where the hands seemed seized by spasms. "You were right, you were right. But please help me! "

Erika did not need to hear more. Hold back her tears, in turn, without even knowing the reason for the despair of her friend, but she felt bound by the relationship they shared for years, ran to her and hugged her. "What did he do?" He asked, his blood would begin to ribollirle veins. He was staring at a point in space with eyes that seemed about to throw flames. "What made you that animal?" He repeated.

Simon let himself go and uncontrollable weeping round the friend's belly that. Vented all his sadness, to find the strength to tell her everything. In the end, and lifted his face, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, took a deep breath. He met the gaze of Erika and found courage in anger and determination that you read.

"Did he ... raped? "suggested Erika, unable to restrain himself as well. Had not heard from Simon and Fabrizio from the day after Valentine's Day and had no idea what evolution had known of their relationship. Since the beginning, however, had not imagined anything positive or otherwise shared his point of view.

"No," immediately calmed the Simona, who refrained from adding a "worse", which would have shaken Erika earlier than necessary. He needed to find a friend's rationality does not hold and let go. "There are a lot of things happened in these weeks and ... I do not know ... "

"Explain" he invited Erika. "Come upstairs and tell me everything, you'll see him settle that animal."

"No, I do not want them to see me ..." Simon objected.

"I'm home alone, quiet." Erika dedicated a great smile and the very reassured. A little '.

"But you were going ... If you have to do is ... "

"None of what I do is as important to hear what you have to say" he assured her, happy that at last the wheel of life he had shown side by side, as it should be written somewhere in the sky. He had lived days of intense loneliness after the first moments of anger, and in more than one occasion was about to occur by Simona and apologize for having misjudged, despite remained convinced of what he had said. But the affection he felt for her could justify a waiver of any position.

"Thanks," Simon murmured, moved. It was difficult to count on a friend like Erika, ready to go over everything and pick up where he left off as if nothing had happened. He had reserved words of fire, after all, discarding it as an old shoe after having fallen in love with Fabrizio.

"Duty," joked Erika, walking up the stairs and supporting the arm.

***

Seats comfortably at the kitchen table in the apartment of Erika, she and Simon spoke at length before a couple of cups of hot tea. Under the eyes of her friend, which grew more and more amazed, Simon recounted how, after he realized he was late, he had suspected pregnancy. He explained the confession with his mother and embarrassment that had preceded it, pausing to observe what would have been easier just to confide with Erika.

"I'd be happy to welcome you and listen," he said.

"I know, but how could I introduce myself to you after what I told you?"

"Listen, really, have you ever thought for a moment, a moment that we had really broken forever? After all there was between us, we've known all his life, did not believe that at the first sign of approaching one of the other two would melt? "

Simon thought, with a sad look. "No," he revealed. Erika was flabbergasted. "Let me explain. I was like ... Fabrizio me as a bewitched, mesmerized. Remember how I reacted to the first night we saw, to ' Omnia ? "

"Sure. One of the last times I saw the real Simon, before today. "

"Right, you said well, the real me. Because from the time that I met in the square has changed everything, I myself can not say in words what I got. Now I see more clearly, like looking one that was not me, and I understand your reaction when you heard that I'd gone to bed after even a week. "

Erika was silent.

"For me there was nothing but him and at times became a necessity so strong that I thought I might die if I had not seen or touched. This feeling has come up on the evening of Valentine's Day, when it happened that mess, and unfortunately led me to argue with you, because I was still ... possessed. However, this is not, unfortunately. "

Erika grew closer, preparing to hear the worst part of the story.

Simon had decided to keep for themselves some special little digestible, at least for the time necessary to fully accept herself. So he said he had done a pregnancy test and have obtained almost sure to expect a child, news that Erika gave birth on the face of a measured joy, soon damped by the reflections that were in tow.

"Then I decided to tell everything to Fabrizio," he explained. "At that moment I felt very attracted less than the first day, let's just love. I was sure he would have reacted badly but a small part of me hoped he was happy and decided to share this experience with me. "

"But ...?" Urged the Erika, unconsciously clenching his fists.

Simon hesitated, looking down. "I take it for silly, but I do not remember what happened. It must have been awful, though, because I ... dreamed, the night after that day, terrible things. I think ... I think that Fabrizio has reacted badly and caused me to hit the ground or otherwise, making abortion. "

"What a piece of ..." snapped Erika. "But then ... you've lost blood? You have to go to the emergency ... "

"No, no, I ... that is the problem, I did not have any effect, I do not know if it was too early or what, do not know anything, the fact is that before I was pregnant and after I was not more. "

"Sorry, but I know there's always a warning. And then you go to the hospital ... type, clean up, I do not know. "

"Yes, yes, but ..."

"Sure you did the test to be valid?"

"Certainly, yes. Absolutely sure, I found the courage to ask the pharmacist and told me that the Predictor is the most reliable. And beyond the test I knew she was pregnant. Likewise, after the reaction of Fabrizio knew not to do this more. "

"I ..." Erika was embarrassed. "I would not seem ... I would not start a fight right now we're together again, then know that I do not want to offend you, but ... you can not ... I mean, you should at least feel specialists and ... "

«Erika» Simona had become very grave.

"Yes?" She said, almost frightened.

"Do you trust me? In the name of friendship that has always connected, you trust me? "

Erika pondered the answer. "Yes."

"I went to a specialist, a gynecologist. Ten days ago, with my mother, after I said the same things I said to you. I have visited and concluded that I have never been pregnant, let alone abortion, of course. "

"But then ..."

"But if you trust me believe me when I say that I was pregnant and that Fabrizio has made me lose the baby. This is why I came here to you, because it remained like my last hope of salvation before the madness. After the visit to the gynecologist my mom ended the conversation and told me not to talk about it more, otherwise it would cease to be so complicit and would tell my dad what I had done ... this point or what not I had done. But I know what I heard and I know what I experienced. No coincidence that Fabrizio was gone that day, I have not seen or called me. And just because I am sure of my version of events could not stay with my heart in peace, I even slept in the nights, so strong was the thought. I need someone to believe me, give me confidence in the word, because I realize that the facts are all against me. And that someone can be just you and never will be anyone. "

Erika could not find words to comment.

"Can you help me be happy? You can really help to put aside the story, letting you find peace and security for having lived a terrible experience, but will not be repeated ever again? "

Erika Simon saw how he had always known had changed radically in a short time. Was gained as a woman marked by time and experience. And yet asked for a difficult test of trust and friendship, as a little girl who did not want to admit to herself that Santa was not actually an uncle in disguise. But true friendship is seen also and especially on occasions like that.

"I believe you," he promised, thinking it would be time in the future to help her to reflect and re-evaluate his position, certainly resulting from disappointment at the loss of Fabrizio. "Thanks," said Simon, beginning to cry with emotion.

BRIDGE

" N on I must admit that I have left many questions. "

This was the first comment after Roberto Erika had finished telling his version of history, purged from the same details that Simon had failed twenty-two years before and had never resurfaced.

In the kitchen, the temperature was increasing to reach peak unbearable but neither seemed to mind. Both were sweating profusely, but their concentrations were still on the blocks that, one by one, they were going to compose the mosaic of the true story of Simon and unearthing truths that could prove crucial to understanding the causes of his untimely death.

"The same goes for me," Erika agreed. "Except that I had twenty years to try and steal the answers to my best friend, to no avail. And at times it was really frustrating. "

"Why did not he ever talk about anything?" Roberto continued, as if thinking aloud, and he had not heard the last words of Erika. He stared at his hands clasped on the table surface. "I understand in the early days, the pain was still pretty cool ... but we stayed together all these years, we shared everything, we never had secrets ... I could help her overcome the difficulty. "

"I think that Simon had surpassed himself, by putting it after a few days. It's always been good at that sort of thing. "

"And I, I never noticed anything," continued Robert. "For me, Simon was the happiest person in the world, to live so excited that I could involve in the worst moments, when I fell down on him. It was a trascinatrice, a ... »

Erika nodded vigorously, her eyes became more lucid and his mouth would begin to tremble.

"How could you live with this burden? A swallow such an experience and continue to love life? "

"I told you, Simon was good, was strong. And where his personality did not come, surely you've helped you and your children. I always spoke of you and I can consider myself as your friend because ... Well, I hear praise for twenty years and a few less are aware of what happens to Christina and Matthias. You were perfect for her, all of them. The realization of his dream. That was so satisfied with her life because she had finally found what he sought. At the point of forgetting the child he had lost. "

"So, in conclusion, it was really pregnant?" Asked Roberto cast, managing to hinder those words with tears that his words had called Erika.

Erika sighed, shaking his head. "That day, when I spoke, I thought not. And for all the years to follow not changed my mind. A pregnancy test can easily give a false positive result, especially at that time but a gynecologist ... and then it is impossible to have an abortion without consequences. My idea is that Simon had placed so many hopes in its history with Fabrizio to dream of being able to always stay with him. And in his dreams, lack of menstruation was necessarily linked to pregnancy, as the icing on the cake. He must have had the misfortune of getting a wrong result or perhaps the test has performed badly. And after speaking of what he found to Fabrizio and his indifference to his dream was shattered and he unconsciously turned into a nightmare, convinced that that child would have his dream of love was lost forever. He said that Fabrizio gliel'aveva did lose, but she said she did not remember whether she had been pushed or beaten by him, so the sermon did not hold. "

"Have you ever tried to reason with Simon?"

"One time I tried to raise the issue, to see if the weather had brought clarity in thought. It must have been six or seven years ago, on the phone - since you moved here, we have seen very little in person. Do not remember how we went about the speech, but the exposure of my ideas, more or less like I did with you. "

"E. ..?"

"And I slammed the phone in my face and not felt for almost three months. I tried many times to recall, but not answering the phone and pretended that someone had the wrong number, if by chance lifted the phone at home. "

Robert nodded, remembering a time when the phone calls of people who had grown strangely wrong number.

"Fortunately, in the end he accepted my apology and I do not ventured over to touch the topic. After all those years, the wound was still fresh and not worth burning it further. I had no idea how Simon could be irremovable although no longer a girl, but it was. Must have been profoundly affected. "

"And Fabrizio? What happened? "Asked Robert, opening his arms. It was the last of the questions that remained. There was a sense of what had felt until then, not with a view to discover more about the death of his wife. He did not understand how an alleged abortion that occurred three years before he and Simon knew it could be connected to a car accident and listed as the probable accidental pregnancy of his daughter Christina.

"Actually, we never saw him again. Out of curiosity, I asked often to other acquaintances if they had never heard of it but it was as if it had appeared from nowhere and returned to his place after his performance a bastard. Likely to come from far away, maybe it was a college student and after graduating moved. On the one hand it was fortunate that Simon did not rivedesse, but personally I wanted to lay hands on him. "

"So," continued Roberto tone final "end of the story. Simon thought she was pregnant and lost the baby because of this guy who then disappeared from circulation. I kept it hidden. So why suddenly he felt in danger, as I said on the phone in the days before the accident? And what does that Christine? "

Erika shook her head. "I was hoping to hear something more to tell you but apparently Simon was very private. Maybe he did not want to involve you. "

"Involve me in what?" Urged the Roberto.

"No matter what the freaking same. The incident, perhaps, "suggested Erika.

"Which brings us to doubt that the incident was not random but that there is someone behind it. On what basis you say? The police did not find anything, no anomaly. "

"I do not know ..." Erika surrendered.

"Could not we just think that Simon was worried because he had seen some signs of Cristina's secret? Because, apparently, Cristina Simona same might be pregnant and you have confessed to have this fear. It could ... In short, it is easy to make the connection: may have revised our daughter and herself in the mind to be back with his experience. Cristina loved so much that he would never have tolerated that happen the same thing had happened to her. Perhaps he was simply afraid that Daniel escaped as Fabrizio had escaped. "

"But this ..."

"But that would explain everything. He had quarreled with Cristina, that had caused her more stress, more thoughts, but as always was very good at not showing it. But from what you told me he had every reason to agonize the mind when he was alone, just what must have happened while he was in the car. He is distracted and tac ! Over. "The last word was dissolved in a falsetto that dragged with it a violent wave of tears and sobs. "After" repeated Robert, upset, letting go.

Erika began to weep in turn, more sedately. "It's the first thing I thought even I, the most obvious. But something inside me said that there was more. Simon was not only concerned about the phone, she was frightened. He asked to meet to talk and see each other as I told you in person was a rare event. He had to hide something big. Something that yes, Cristina concerned, because I had explained that he would speak with you soon to clarify but it was definitely over. "

"It's just a shortcut," said Robert, still crying. "To think that there are mysteries to be discovered is a way to leave in abeyance the truth, not to say that Simon is gone and will never return. But excuse me if I prefer to deal with it immediately, without delay, because they are already so convinced that I just do not make me all my life for a reason. "

"He kept a diary?" Said Erika, prevaricating.

"Who?" Roberto asked stupidly, without really knowing if he had heard a question or statement.

"As a young Simon kept a diary. We wrote often and at times left me to read pages that concerned me, to make me happy. Some other pages instead remained secret. "

"But what ...?" Interrupted Roberto, innervosendosi.

"So I wondered if he had not kept the habit until now. If so, maybe he wrote down his thoughts and we might get an idea whether you're right or if, as I say, Simona felt threatened by someone. Even for this I wanted to come here: we seek together. "

"You ... you ... "stammered Bob, furious. "How can you think ...? Want to play all'investigatrice behind the ...? like ... "

"No, no, please do not misunderstand me 'Erika defended himself, holding out his hands to protect themselves from the wrath of Robert. "I'm hurt almost as much as you, as you, because Simon was one of the few important things I had left in the world. The most important, to tell the truth, and now it is gone. So I want to go down in history, in the hope that the truth is that you have told the police. Because if it were different, even if it were only minimally involved a person, I swear ... "But did not finish the sentence.

Robert stared at her, silently, through the dall'adirato seriously. "You are convinced that has anything to do with Fabrizio, is not it?" Tried to guess.

Erika looked up and met his. He did not need to respond.

"Follow me," Robert asked her, wiping her eyes and got up, headed upstairs.

PART THREE

The legacy

C ristina was locked in her room to study on all morning. To tell the truth, had left with the intention of the books and prepare for the next exam, but his attention was elsewhere. He could not help but think about his secret to her pregnancy, the huge mess that she and Daniel had combined. He had not spoken with anyone, had not had the courage to tell her boyfriend because she could not bear to see him happy while she was desperate, he had not said a word to her father, not to disturb him further into what was the period worst of his life, and had not confided in her friends, why not have believed it to be worthy enough to share this news.

The problem was that to keep everything for himself he was destroying. He spent whole days to stroke his belly, listen in itself, as if somehow he could already feel the life that was taking shape. He searched the Internet the number of the testing laboratory in the city and had phoned to ask what it was for a pregnancy test "official", but had not yet had the guts to be really present in his urine sample. In a remote corner of his mind was hoping for something to happen that would make her understand that it was wrong to expect high and that no child.

Was also upset at the thought that his mother had foreseen everything. He had hated when he used the risk of an unwanted pregnancy as an excuse to try to get her away from Daniel, but he wanted her at his side to confide. To apologize to her and confide. Simona was certain to find answers to any question and he did discover what was hidden in a positive situation that she thought was black as night, without fail to point out to her how he had been right in his prejudice against Daniel. Cristina would have also accepted the rebuke and humiliation, just to have someone to vent. And while he still close his mother, of course.

Over the past two days was found torn between two conflicting ideas. On the one hand he thought that it was necessary to bring it to the news his father, taking courage in both hands and ignoring the embarrassment. Then it would be easier to inform Daniel and accept his happiness. Perhaps he could have let himself be involved, which would transform a concern into a source of joy and hope after the tragedy of the accident. A profound transformation of his life and his future, the second in a short time, but this time in a positive way.

Another part of her had instead considered the possibility of going to a doctor and show a willingness to have an abortion. He was terrified and morally fought, but was not among those who believed that life began at the exact moment of conception. Not until then, at least. It was nothing more than removing a few cells and only the idea of what they would have generated had to be mental obstacle to the operation. After all, was not convinced of being able to secure a decent future to a new creature and was not required to give birth to a child just because now there . But these were thoughts that felt foreign to him at the very moment in which created them.

In an attempt to put your heart at rest, had set a deadline. Within a week he made his decision. He knew deep inside that he decided to confide in and Roberto would exclude abortion, but take time to think it made her feel better and gave her the opportunity to prepare for the confrontation. Not to mention, once again, the possibility of unexpected events.

Among these and other thoughts passed the first hours of the morning, lying on her bed with a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. The book that he kept leaning on her lap never moved from the two pages that had been opened earlier. He did not even notice the faint voices that came from the kitchen, where his father, as he had said the previous day, was meeting an old friend of her mother, to have a chat in his memory. Only when he heard them reach the floor above his eye was stimulated. He put aside his thoughts and listened, intrigued.

"I've never seen it written anywhere" Roberto was saying. The voice seemed to come from the short corridor onto which the three bedrooms and bathroom. "But if he was hiding something, certainly did in our bedroom, in the studio because I kept all my things and I would know, if there was another."

Hide something? thought Christina, sitting up and feeling my heart would begin to beat faster, without knowing how to explain the reason. He listened and heard the voices came from far away, probably from the bedroom of his parents.

"You could say that I never opened any drawer and no closet door, but those with my clothes. Let's see if ... "

Cristina got out of bed. Slowly and trying not to make noise approached the door ajar and peered outside. From his position he saw the bed of her parents and a corner cabinet. His father was looking around inside, while a woman was watching him from behind little more back. Blacks had long hair and was standing with his arms crossed, while the knees are flexed alternately as a sign of agitation or perhaps waiting.

"Nothing," announced Roberto turning. "We see in his dresser," she added, turning around and bending over the bed to open the drawer lingerie Simona. Erika Cristina turned and saw her face, a woman with the face expression sad and consumed as many years of suffering. He felt he'd already met, but then he made the acquaintance of countless people in the days of the funeral. She moved away from the door in fear of being caught spying.

Roberto rummaged through her panties and bra of his late wife, then stopped suddenly, staring at the inside of the drawer. He turned and raised his head to Erika, who looked at in turn. Did not exchange any words, but it was obvious that they had understood it anyway.

***

Roberto pulled out the notebook from the drawer of the nightstand Simona. She stared for a moment, holding it between his hands like a fetish, a simple notebook with a pink Hello Kitty on the cover. He closed the drawer and slowly sat down on the bed, without taking your eyes. "You ...? You say this is? "Said Erika.

"Probably," she said, keeping a distance with his arms folded, as not to disturb the moment of reflection and wonder of Robert. It was obvious that something had changed in him and I certainly had to do with the discovery that Simon was able to keep him another secret. Robert had lived in the certainty of having a transparent relationship with his wife while in a single day had come to the knowledge of past and secrets that even the truth could have imagined.

"I ..." he stammered, as if unable to move and speak. Then quickly ran the pages of the book with his thumb, and found that almost all were white. Only ten were covered in dense but orderly writing Simona. He closed the book and the cover turned, faced the first page. He glanced at the first lines.

Erika could not resist the curiosity and approached him, trying to read in turn. But from that distance and with the notebook around with respect to its point of view did not distinguish the words. "May I?" He asked, with some embarrassment, pointing to the bed.

"It seems like a diary," said Roberto, without responding to his request. "There are no dates, does not speak for itself."

Erika put aside education and took a seat beside him. He leaned to the side, craning his neck to see better the notebook page, but Roberto closed it as a child that would prevent his classmate to copy during a test at school. "Sorry, I did not want ..." Erika said, drawing back, and blushing. He could not explain what had taken.

"No, do not mind, 'reassured the Roberto. "It's just ... is for Cristina. It starts with 'Hello, Christine' and not feel like ... "

"No no no, in fact, I did not want ..."

"They fought a lot in the days before," he recalled. "Cristina ... Simon told me, that day when ... before the accident he had written that they should talk, explain, make peace ... They never had the chance, but ... I saw that it says here, he says, says she is writing to help you understand and fix the relationship between them. I've only read the first lines. "Robert moved his head slowly, staring at a point on the mat at the foot of the bed and began to cry. "He ... had written what he had to say to Cristina as if ... as if ... he knew . Holy God. "

Erika instinctively put a hand on the shoulder of Roberto, who was let go for nostalgia. "You should give it to Christine. It is as if Simon did not want to leave without solving their little altercation. "

Robert nodded through her tears.

"I'm glad I made sure that we found. My goal was different, but I'm happy for you and Cristina. I hope I can help. E. .. I'm sure Simon was here to guide me in some way, because what he had to say it will reach you. "she cried.

"I can see it, Dad?" Cristina had appeared suddenly in the doorway. Robert stared with eyes seriously and launched a lightning fast, but look at Erika, transformed suddenly into an intruder in the privacy of their family torn apart by grief.

Robert raised his head, trying to hold back tears. Without hesitating, stretched out his arm and handed the book to his daughter. Cristina took it almost eagerly opened it and, beginning to enjoy reading without even time to move into his room or at least to sit down.

"I ... maybe I'd better go, "he apologized Erika, rising. "I do not want ..."

"No," Robert stopped her, holding it by the arm. "Wait. Had it not been for you I probably would have found that copybook in years, I ... I decided not to touch anything in the stuff Simon, out of respect and because I would not have the right emotion. I wish it had expected, could be written something that only you can tell, you that you have known in those years. "He emphasized the last words with a look, not to mention having to explicitly in front of Cristina Simona experience with Fabrizio.

But Cristina was lost in reading. His expression grew darker, line by line, page after page. It took about ten minutes to read everything, which meant they had devoured the words to the impatience of knowing. When he looked up and stared at his father for a few seconds, his mouth slightly open as if he had anything to say.

Robert and Erika, her very uncomfortable, tried to read his face, but they found nothing apparent anger. The last thing I had expected. "So?" Asked Roberto at the end.

That word seemed to distract Cristina by deep reflection. He shook his head with a smile of incredulity, and violently threw his notebook on the ground. The pages fluttered and folded sprawled against the carpet before the astonished eyes of Robert and Erika.

Cristina turned and ran out of room. A few seconds later came down to the floor wearing a pair of jeans and sneakers. Roberto, motionless, as if hypnotized by the sight of Hello Kitty notebook yet left the ground, he heard the door slam violently, and soon after, Cristina's car that was set in motion in the garage.

***

Erika did not move, resisting the temptation to pick up the book and leaf through it with all the inner strength he could muster. He was eager to read the last confession of Simon and at the same time he was distressed by the truth that it could have emerged if the feedback of Cristina. Such a step could not be linked only to discover that his mother had become pregnant as a girl, something that undoubtedly had been touched in the story.

Roberto was holding her hands between her legs and rubbed with the nervousness, as volendole retain in turn collect from the book and open his personal Pandora's box. He was sweating profusely, his hair plastered to his forehead and temples, and the look like a man on the verge of total decline, straddling the border between reason and insanity.

"I ..." ventured Erika, putting aside for a moment his sense of strangeness to the situation, his impression of having autoinvitata that terrible party and then not having a say. The fact was that was coming up the terrible suspicion that Christina might have overreacted and put in danger.

"Yes," Roberto said tersely. "Read it yourself, please."

"It's not that ..." Erika is still justified, as if still did not feel fully authorized. "Only I would not want Cristina ..."

"Read, please," repeated Bob. "I ... I never understood his writing. "

Erika did not need to repeat once more, leaned over and picked up the notebook. The thought that those sheets of paper had been one of the last things affected by Simona, that perhaps there were microscopic particles lodged in his skin, to her , caused her a tremendous bout of nostalgia. But it was not the right time to let go: Simona had something to tell, and she and Robert had to listen carefully.

" Hello, Cristina , "he began, reading from the first row. It is conveniently placed next to Roberto, who listened with a lost look, ready for the worst. " I wanted to tell this story in person, but I'd never heard, and, anyway, I would have never believed. I ask you to get to the end of these pages, and only after making comments. You'll want to stop and insult me, but please do not do it and read.

" Last Friday, our lives are forever changed and it was because of that very brief visit your boyfriend Daniel. It's not like you think, I'm not looking for the umpteenth time to tell you that I do not like, for some a priori maternal fear. Unfortunately the truth is another, much more complex and problematic. And potentially lethal . "

***

From time to time, on Friday afternoon, Olga takes half a day of rest, during which he meets with other women Ukrainian immigrant. This does not happen every week, even though it's his right, because she is convinced that showing tied to his lady to the point of giving up the free afternoon will be considered successful and worthy by Simon and Roberto, who might recommend it to friends when Isa will lacking. What Olga hopes to be far from the place, but must take into account, if he thinks the precariousness of his position and the poverty that afflicts his family at home.

Today is one of those Friday when he decided to take a break. Simon has previously warned that he did so to be free from work to pay attention to his mother. I am a little after five, and both are in the kitchen of Simona. Isa is casually flipping through the pages of a gossip magazine. He forgot his glasses at home and barely distinguishes the figures, but sometimes some of it is sharp enough and interesting enough to exchange a few pleasant remarks with his daughter.

Simon is busy with household chores and, after preparing the washing machine upstairs, is focusing on ironing the clothes just retired from the dryer. She's happy to spend extra time with her mother, she never stopped loving her, despite having changed his attitude towards him as the events of life made her discover sides of his personality which was not fully 's agreement.

However, since in recent years, Isa began to age visibly, as if every day your body builds up on the labors of a lifetime, Simon has found fewer arguments and less desire to share to do so, because the new version of her mother inspires a certain awe. He has the impression of being in front of a person away from her, like a wise wizard village worthy of reverence. Even his mother is less talkative and sometimes seems embarrassed, as if he opened his mouth only to hide the moments of silence that occur between them.

Olga will not return before ten o'clock in the evening. Isa will stop for dinner and will accompany his daughter home from Roberto, and returned home when the caregiver is ready to take care of her. She herself can not bear to have decreased as well, often confided to Simon: he has never borne the idea of depending on others and be a ball and chain. "But what can I do?" He says in those cases, as if to justify. "Life has given me this destiny. I'm fine too, if you think about it. Dad went to worse, to die so young. "Yet, sometimes wonders whether it is worse to be old and disabled than to die at sixty.

The monotony of the afternoon undergoes a sharp turn when the doorbell rings. Isa, who barely heard him, with interest and concentration is staring at a page depicting glossy actress topless. Simon looks up from the shorts that are stretching and trying to recognize through the window and over the driveway in front of the figure at the gate house. Two people, actually, and one is Cristina. "But he has the keys?" He asks, approaching the gate of the switch.

"Who is it?" Croaks distractedly Isa, without diverting his attention from the magazine.

"The Cristina" says Simon, coming from the kitchen to go to open the door. A distant, invisible alarm siren works its way inside her. Not describe the feeling, but imagine comes from the thought of just before, namely that Cristina would have to carry house keys and if it is not ... and then in theory was supposed to go home by bus, not before six.

While opening the door does not imagine that those worries are nothing compared to what awaits. His life is about to change forever.

***

'Well?' Cries, addressed to Cristina.

She has just entered the gate, followed by a boy. Beyond, parked in the mall at the roadside in front of the house, there's a smart black and gray that Simona has never seen before: it must be a new friend Cristina. "Now I'll explain" the shouts in response, his eyes close to the reflection of the sun and a smile that would be contagious and calming, but has no effect on his mother.

"What has happened?" Simon asks again, strangely worried. Not like her, she realizes herself.

"Nothing, nothing, quiet," says Cristina, approaching, closely followed by the boy, who for now remains behind him, hidden from view by Simona. "I forgot the keys in the language lab and came back to find them, but they had already closed. So meanwhile, I also lost the shuttle which brings me to the bus park. Luckily I called Daniel, who accompanied me home. "

Simon did not look away from Christine, who is now in front of her. He shakes his head and looks at her with disapproval, but there is no real reproach in his eyes. "How many times have you told your dad to be careful with the keys? Now ... "

"Now nothing, the lab is closed until Monday and Monday morning I dashed there at once, however if the technician finds something keeps him aside." He pauses of silence, then seems to remember Daniel, who stands there in silence next, as an obedient dog. "In all ways, he was kind enough to take on in the car and take me home to Parma, now that arrives, and rush hour traffic is a mess. We can ... it may come a moment that I will offer at least a glass of water. "

"No problem," he assures Simona, only now shifting his eyes to the boy. "In fact, thanks and sorry if ..." She stops abruptly. Her stomach is contracted and the body is paralyzed. What I see is too unbelievable to be true and it is this observation that allows you to temporarily recover and find the strength to continue. "Scusala."

"All right, Mom?" Asked Cristina, noticing his sudden loss.

"Yes," reassures Simon turned and preceding them in the house. "Come ahead," he adds, giving back to them and hoping they are not longer in front of Fabrizio next time you will turn to look at them.

***

Isa is too concentrated to the difficult task of deciphering the black spots that appear before him and that should compose the words of a gossip magazine article, to pay interest in what happens at a short distance from her. Only when she saw Simon back in the kitchen looks up and glances diverted to the two people standing at the entrance.

"Hello, Grandma 'greets Cristina, deliberately taking a tone of voice very high, despite Isa has never given reason to think that even weak hearing.

"Hello, darling," the answer, but there is sweetness in his words, just routine. Go back and read the paper, but not before noticing a particularly strange. He decides to ignore it and engage in gossip.

"Come, sit back" Simona invites children. "There is some 'confusion there because I'm arranging things, but ... What can I offer? "

"No, I ..." Daniel began, apparently uncomfortable.

"But by 'Christine prompts him. "Have a drink. A drop of water. "

"Yes, okay, just a glass, but I prefer to leave right away that maybe I avoid leaving the job."

Simona wants to avoid watching it, but can not help himself. And in spite of just the first impression is confirmed: Daniel is a perfect copy of Fabrizio, the boy with whom she shared a terrifying experience twenty-two years ago. The same physical structure, the same facial features, the same hair. He is not smiling, but she is sure that if it did would expose the bewitching smile that well in my memory. Even her voice sounds familiar.

"Coffee?" Suggests, trying to bring back on track this surreal moment of normalcy. He wonders at what point has recently revived its past, perhaps unconsciously, perhaps in a dream. Because only this could explain what he is seeing: a remarkable similarity that his mind is working as something more. Of addition .

"No, really, just water," confirms Daniel.

Cristina sends a meaningful look at her mother. It is not at home is saying. From a drink and then leave to go home without talking too much . She remains close to Daniel, without setting foot in the kitchen.

Simona fills a glass and hands it to her daughter. Approach the guy you think a company beyond its capabilities, too destabilizing to its present state of mind. It would be like to get in touch with a person belonging to a different time from her and yet coexistent with her. A paradox. A step towards madness from which he always tried to stay away during the last twenty years.

"Thanks," Daniel murmured, recovering the glass from the hands of Cristina and scolandolo in an instant. "I do not want to sound rude, but I really want to go, because ..."

"No problem," he assures Cristina. Start thinking of making a stupid: it was too early to bring his boy home, even for a hit and run. I'll say the unusual attitude of Daniel and the even more incomprehensible to her mother. "I'll walk." It goes to the door, preceded him.

"Thank you again, goodbye" Daniel repeated, staring into the eyes Simona. She stares, not to mention, and this time sees and understands, without a doubt.

Daniel is Fabrizio.

I'll suggest the light in his eyes and half smile that says goodbye: a defiant grin. It lasts a split second, but it is unmistakable. Then the guy turns around and follows Cristina, disappearing forever in the sight of Simon, as he did in February 1984. Or rather, as it seemed to be doing.

Cristina and Daniel reach the gate at the end of the driveway. From its position Simona does not see them. The noise of cars in transit covers his ears the sound of her voice that greets him and kiss the crack of that reserve. He feels it is only the smart set in motion and slamming the gate is closed, as is usual to Cristina.

A few seconds after you return. "Man, as he was embarrassed," she says.

"It's your ..." begins Simon, spirited, yet still in first position, hands at his sides.

"More or less," Cristina replied, remaining vague. "I mean, yes. See you in a while '. We are together, but ... for now nothing superserio. Are you angry because I told you so? "She adds, playing in his own way the attitude of Simon.

"No, no. I'm alright. "

"It's a great guy, for that matter," says Cristina, not entirely convinced of the mother's response.

Simon would not comment.

"I'm going for a shower," concludes Christine, while the dark shadow the face. It is madly in love with her and Daniel can not tolerate even the slightest doubt by Simona, which instead gives the impression of having many.

***

Simon returns to the kitchen on unstable legs, which no longer recognizes as his own. The same environment where you can rediscover now seems alien to his house, the ironing board on which he left the hot iron a few minutes ago, his mother who strives undaunted pleasant to read articles. You feel dizzy, like after a series of somersaults, and thinks that deep down it is so: the unexpected meeting has rolled past, then catapultarla back to the present, an improbable journey of forty in a few seconds.

"Mom," he murmurs, without really knowing what was about to say. Anyone who saw her at this time do not recognize, is the image of the panic, confusion, stunning. Of fear, too.

Isa does not even raise his head. He did not hear it or wants to believe.

"Mom," Simon repeated, raising his voice. "He ... did you see? "

Isa remains motionless and impassive. "What?" Asked, biting his words, as if he had been forced to speak.

"He" says Simona. "The boy Cristina. Have you seen him? "

"No." The answer is dry, but not convincing. A clash is the head down, refusing to look her daughter in the eye while speaking. "I have glasses," he adds. The voice betrays a slight tremor.

Simona squeezes her eyes and felt himself grow into new and overwhelming emotion. Not positive, though. "Mom," he hisses. "You need glasses to see up close. You are not myopic "he observes.

Isa is to open your mouth again, but it retains the last minute. She sighs and tries to mask his involuntary and instinctive reaction to turning a page of the magazine. In the excitement and nervousness almost tears.

"Mom," repeats Simon. In the face is white with red patches on the cheeks. The rage he feels is violent to the point spillarle a solitary tear. He feels that could explode at any moment, uncontrolled, and there would be no love for his mother, or self-awareness to keep her. It would be dangerous. It is no longer her. "There is ... there is something you have to tell me? "Thoughts and beliefs accumulated half years and always confined in the farthest corner of his mind are on the rise with devastating power.

"Simon, do not think ... 'she begins Isa, finally raising his eyes from the magazine but making them wander up to fix them on the ironing board, instead of his daughter.

"There's something you have to tell me?" The tone leaves no room for hesitation or replicas.

Isa remains silent. His face expresses deep sadness and shows the effects of the tormented inner struggle that is going to burst, that torture all my life. With a gesture automatically closes the magazine. "I think so," he says. "I think it is now." Turns his gaze to Simon, standing a few yards away from her with his arms at his sides and his fists clenched.

"Sit down, honey," he says.

***

"I had a whole life to prepare for this moment, 'she begins Isa. "But I do not feel ready yet. I do not know where to begin, there are many things to explain. The fact is that deep down I hoped to be able to avoid, but probably not possible. As a child I hoped also that my parents never died, it seemed impossible that they could get really old as my grandparents and then leave, but ... "

Simona reserves the glare eloquently is digressing and it is only the beginning.

"What I mean is that certain things are inevitable, I learned this long ago. Even this speech: it was written that we should do it sooner or later, but apparently not be put off. "

"After we finished I will explain that because you've put off until tomorrow, I will arise if even half of the questions that I foresee," he says Simona, severe.

Isa swallows, half embarrassed, half-frightened. "When ... When I was young, it was '49, I met a boy. We used to party even then, I think I already told avertelo other times. Nothing noisy and vulgar as those that are now half-orgies in clubs, but still enjoyable holidays with lots of music and many friends. In one of those occasions, one summer evening, after a day spent helping out in the fields with my mother and my grandmother, because we worked there all along, to help my dad ... sorry, you're right ... That evening I was with my friend, who eventually was a girl who lived in a court not far from ours, and we were always when we had free time and ... In short, I see this guy I had never seen, quite a handsome boy, with a smooth skin that looked like marble and teeth that even the actors of the films we have them so white. "

Simon feels a chill. His mind continues to live between two sizes, half in the kitchen listening to the words of his mother and half to ' Omnia , a Saturday night in 1984.

"I was a girl so expansive and after seeing it and thinking it was a beautiful man I have not done a damn thing, but to continue talking with my friend. Eve was called. Yet, here he is, who among other things seemed strange because he had other friends together, as if he came alone ... he is approaching as if nothing had happened and began to speak. 'You're the one who is the court Molino?' I do. I remember it well because it was a strange phrase to begin a speech. It made no sense. He could start with any other excuse, if you think about, because it is not that the court Molino had something special or that I had ever made mention of me in the country ... but those few words were enough to ... "he hesitates, trying to explain the best terms.

"To make you fall for him?" Suggests Simon, expressionless, robotic.

Isa observes. "More or less, yes. I do not know if it was the voice, the smile, the look, the beauty of that boy, that was really special, but ... I do not know, in a second I forgot everything else and I had only planned to continue talking with him all evening. Do not even remember what I said exactly, is the fact that my friend took me around all day, saying I had lost my mind for one who had never seen before. It was a good girl and teased me for a joke, but he was glad that I found a guy that interested me. 'Take that to your dad are arms' he said in jest.

"That boy's name was Francis, and that evening we saw often in the evening and Sunday afternoon. Then it was not like today, no one went out every night. I told my parents that I went to Eve, but I took a small road in the fields and Francis went on a bicycle. We had agreed. We talked a bit ', sometimes if I'm not mistaken, we took walks. I was in love and every day I saw him I liked it more and more, until one afternoon ... "Isa blushes, but speak. "... While I was chatting together in a special place, as he said, was in reality only a small lake not far from where I lived, where the boys often went fishing. But that day seemed special to me. There was no one besides us. It was almost sunset and the sky was a special light, you know when the sun is almost down to the horizon and is bright orange? We sat against a tree, maybe we talked a bit ', but ... In short, I made two or three strokes and ... I do not even know how we ended up making love. "He spits the last word as acid.

"It was not a small thing. In those days there was just like today, it was twelve kids have already done everything and more. Then there were the values, there was a sense of modesty different, there was also respect and fear of parents and their teachings. And I was a good girl and religious. But it was stronger than me, a temptation that I have never felt since. "

"I know what you mean," he assures Simon, who is putting two and two, frightened by the findings that is coming.

"And you want to know the beautiful?" Isa resumes.

"Wait," interrupts Simon. "I understand that you want to tell all, but just take my doubt ... everything you're saying has nothing to do with what we have seen today, except that Francis was not ... "

"That's obvious," precedes Isa. "I've taken for granted. My Francis Fabrizio and your are the same person. "

***

Simon should not try this strong sense of nausea, after her mother told her what had already guessed seeing Daniel go to the next by Cristina. He had a few minutes to try and get over it. However, think of a crazy thing was one thing, sentirsela confirmed by another person was a different story. "And Daniel?"

"He said his name like that? Well, it only changed name, but as you've seen is him. "Isa speaks with a simplicity that is frightening. He has had years to accept the idea, but Simon is convinced that she would not be enough for three lifetimes do the same.

"What we're saying?" Said Simon, with a half smile. "We're dreaming?"

"You insisted you to hear the truth," he notes Isa. "You want it to continue, or not?"

"Sure. I waited long enough, I pretended to have forgotten what happened to me and that you wanted to minimize and I think I deserve some answers. Excuses and responses. "

"I will get this too and I hope you understand me."

Simon nods not, but serious back and waits for Isa resume the story.

"I mean ... enough that time, the slightest weakness and ... "

"You remained pregnant."

"That's right, you know the history."

"You mean you did the same thing to you? Then you took away ... "

"Wait, calmly. Leave me my time, otherwise I lose the thread. I realized I was pregnant and just as has happened to you I was in panic. Were you afraid of the father and embarrassment to me. I ... for me it was a little 'different, if my dad knew I was pregnant with a boy I had known for so little and that he knew, above all, and, worst of all, I had had sex without being married ... I'm not kidding, I would kill her, I would take to paddle strokes. And my mom ... less, as we know. I would send the priest to confess to me and who knows how long it would make me suffer. I did not know what to do.

"Then, one evening, while my dad was already in bed - he was always tired and got up early to milk the cows - my mom gave me a strange speech. I asked him how he was, if I met someone recently if there was some news that I had to tell. He had never spoken that way and I could not explain why, except that he had guessed my problem. But it was impossible, because I had changed my behavior and I did not even say anything to Eva. Anyway, that night he was placed in a manner so gentle, so loving, so friendly, that without realizing it I told her the truth. 'I think I have a mess' I said. 'Please do not tell your dad and tell the priest, but I think expecting a baby'. Think of saying those things to my mom was really ridiculous, for as I was and how I knew her but she managed to put me at ease and ... I do not know, while confession, instead of seeing a scandal in his eyes and saw understanding that gave me the strength to continue. It filled me with wonder, because her reaction was incomprehensible, but at the same time reassured me.

"'Do not worry' I said when I finished. 'Do not tell anyone. But you go immediately to your boyfriend to say '. I understand you less and less, but I was so glad that you were angry that the day after nearly courses appointment with Francis to put him in power. I thought that my mom wanted him to know of the pregnancy to make sure that our families to arrange themselves and organize the wedding as soon as possible, to try to make the fact less scandalous.

"Francis was always of the usual that day. Not much different in appearance and behavior. I had not considered the problem of how he welcomed the news but just gave it to him. He looked at me a moment, after I had finished. And there was radically changed. "

Simona is crying. "You knew," she points. "For some strange reason you had been through everything and you know and made me feel like a crazy when ..."

"Please, leave late, we leave to explain."

Simona patience, in spite of himself.

"In part, I managed to remove the memory, at least the details, but it was an experience like that you've had with Fabrizio. Francis became someone else, something else and ... Yes, he touched me and hurt me and when he had finished he disappeared, leaving me alone, empty, lost in disbelief ... "Isa begins to cry in turn, the tears flowing on the same face that sailed fifty-seven years ago, only that is now covered with deep wrinkles as the pain of remembering.

"It feels awful," says Simona.

"Definitely," confirms Isa. Immediately resumes the narrative not to be overwhelmed and lose the strength to go forward. "I ran home in tears. I tried my mom, without even bothering the fact that my dad or any of my brothers could see me. Luckily they were not back yet. My mum was, she was sitting at the table with his hands crossed and staring into space, as if waiting. Indeed, that's right, because I realized immediately that he was waiting for me. I began to tell her all about casting, but not even let me finish. 'Now it's over' she said. 'Now I can explain, do not worry, my love'. I remember every single word, because I was the only time he turned to me as my love. I sat down and began to listen. Whatever he had to say, I did not think he could assuage my grief, my fear, my despair. My anger, too, because it was obvious that no matter what had happened, she was aware. I was just in the state where you are you now. "

"In the state I was in, that Fabrizio tortured me, maybe."

"Yes, too."

"But your mom made it clear at once that she knew , while you ... "

"Please, let me explain. You will be all clear. "But Isa still does not know how to justify his silence.

Simon waits. "We feel then."

"'This is our inheritance' said my mother. 'Our curse, if you want to call it that. I say our destiny, because it makes me less afraid '. Thus began. "

Isa draws a deep breath and brings the story that his mother did decades ago.

***

One day in early October, between the '400 and '500, in a small village not far from Mirandola in Emilia, came a woman who looked about thirty years, from the stately posture and clothing and apparently treated expensive, but with nothing to follow but a massive bag. Arrived and the first thing he did was ask the first passer-by who met, such a Peter, who was a carpenter, had there in the village a place to spend the night.

Peter explained that there was an abandoned and dilapidated old house, certainly not very cozy, but for the purpose, if the need was to stay overnight before leaving. In the village there were no inns, and people were not willing to trust strangers, especially if it was a woman. Matilda, that was the lady thanked him heartily and said that the abandoned house was going perfectly.

Without further hesitation, followed the instructions of Peter and arrived at the eastern edge of the village, just before the forest that surrounded it on three sides, where the house was uninhabited. His short journey from the wearisome burden he was carrying and gave the impression of being very heavy, was followed by discrete looks at all of the villagers especially women, who momentarily disrupted the household chores that were dedicating.

Few hours and talk time in the houses and streets had no other subject if not the arrival of the stranger and elaborate and fanciful speculation about its origin, its destination and the contents of his bag. The voices were mostly negative and denigrating, even some accusations and alarming, the fact remains that it was still completely dropped the sun that Matilda had already been classified as a disreputable person, forgotten by the Lord. An awkward burden to the tranquility of the village.

The next morning, everyone waited with curiosity to see her leave the house abandoned and re-engage with its true destination. Peter had told her of his intentions to his wife Matilda, who had spoken with the neighbor, who in turn had given to others, so that everyone was aware that the stay of a foreigner in the country was absolutely temporary.

But Matilda did not set off that morning and did not do even that afternoon. For the next three days not even put his head out of the house he had chosen as a refuge, but everyone knew who was still inside, because when darkness fell, one of the windows came the faint glow of a candle.

The first time anyone saw her was when he went to the village to shop the baker and seller of meat that passed through his daily rounds, from the nearby city. Do not talk to anyone, except to ask what she needs. She met Peter, but he pretended not to see her and she seemed not to even notice us.

After two weeks from the day he arrived in town the rumors and beliefs had become more severe and malignant. The first openly to suspect that Matilda was a witch was Mary, the wife of a poor farmer. Mary often went to town to take care of the church where the villagers went every Sunday. Everybody had noticed the absence of Matilda in the Eucharistic celebrations, that gave rise to suspicions that already threatened to creep into their minds.

But it was telling Mary that he sensed something, while polishing a glass after a mass, not far from the large crucifix that looked out on the assembly. She was thinking about something, and Matilda, probably Enlightenment, an intervention of the Lord God who wanted to use it as a vehicle to alert his fellow citizens, he suggested that the unknown evil hovered around that come to town.

Maria warned the people you care, family and acquaintances, they would do well to steer clear of Matilda, which was soon undermined their righteous lives with the serpent of the Temptation, moving them away from the road. The warning spread like wildfire, finding fertile ground in the hearts already prevented and victims of prejudice of the few inhabitants of the village. The suspicion soon turned into fear and fear inevitably resulted in hatred.

In the following weeks, the visits to the village of Matilda became tense moments, in which even children, alarmed by their caring mothers, marked a departure from the road and, if they could, they took refuge in their homes when the stranger walked by. Everyone watched, some with fear, others with anger and disgust, but nobody spoke to her. Even the baker, the grocer and peddler who came from the cities served hurriedly, answering only to the necessity of profits, but feel dirty just thinking to conclude negotiations with quell'emissaria of Satan.

***

The turning point of that situation untenable and destabilizing for citizens, more than for Matilda, who never showed signs of being disturbed by their attitude, nor fully understand the motivations, came shortly after the beginning of December. A major snow had whitened the village in those days and men returning from work in the fields, were devoted to chop firewood to withstand extreme cold of the night.

Mary, the woman who had contributed most of all to instill the seeds of hatred and that Matilda had never ceased to discredit it, leading to support their claims divine intervention, dreams and visions of every kind, he decided he could not tolerate over the permanence of the unknown. Not when he approached the birthday of Our Lord Jesus Christ, who, speaking in the heart, had made her understand how the celebration of Christmas redemption from sin and its short elimination of sources that could lead you.

They had to get rid of the witch.

Taking advantage of the speed with which news is transmitted from mouth to mouth, Maria began to meander the voice that would deal openly Matilda, sacrificing and risking their life for the good of the country, in the name of God that his beloved countrymen were held on guard in case something happened to her, and took the appropriate action. Maria's husband did not try to dissuade her from her intention, because he was convinced that his wife would operate on behalf of the Lord and he was honored, his daughter, however, was very worried, but did not express his thoughts, because he thought it inappropriate and not respectful.

On the evening of December 7, when it was past dinner time, Mary left the house, wrapped in a blanket against the cold and their feet planted in the newly fallen snow, walked to the house occupied by Matilda . Discrete and afraid, but ready to transform their immobilizing apprehension angry revolt, his fellow citizens accompanied her with his eyes from behind the windows of their homes.

Maria approached her stealthily to the window overlooking the large room on the ground floor, from which came the light of the flames of several candles. Preparing your heart and mind to witness a scene that would have felt profound disturbance, leaned over and peeked inside. What he saw was beyond her worst weather and horrified, but at the same time infused with a joy arising from the awareness that the Lord really spoke to her and that she had been able to understand the voice. And soon he made his will.

Matilda was lying on her back against the dirt floor of the house, surely cold as the outside temperature. Completely naked, she kept her eyes closed and had an expression that Mary was unable to classify: it could be pain or extreme pleasure. In the middle of that room, furnished only by a wooden table placed against a wall and covered with dust and dirt in every corner, the stranger was eating a passionate relationship with a man who, dressed from head to foot, with only pants down slightly, above it.

Mary watched the scene for a few seconds, with disgust, but they were sufficient for them to grasp details that impressed themselves into his mind forever. He pushed hard, his mouth half open to let a glimpse of gnashing teeth, as if performing an act of violence. Towards a guttural growl like a slight prolonged, giving rise to this hypothesis. But what was worse was the eyes, a bright red and bright, as burning, fixed on the body of Matilda who was wriggling like a mannequin, her breasts swaying as two forms of gelatin.

Mary drew back her heart in my throat, fearing that one of them found her to spy. The shock made her forget for a moment the cold and almost did the fear arising from his discovery gained the upper hand on his faith and conviction to realize God's plan He had never had to face such an experience , but it was precisely in times like this that the Lord was testing the strength of your inner child. After recovering, he returned home, mentally preparing the speech he would have taken the next day to his fellow citizens.

***

The next morning, Mary gathered a few friends at home. Matilda had not yet seen in the country and probably would not have left the house all day, it was down to go shopping the day before. For security, however, the small gathering was held in the utmost secrecy, and paying attention to any noises and indiscreet presences. Mary herself was anticipating that there were dark forces at play and fearsome, igniting the curiosity of women occurred at the same time putting them on alert.

"As you know, the solidity of the Christian Faith and the Church itself is threatened in our times, deplorable and evil by the work of women who should not even be considered daughters of the Lord and that we call witches," began Mary. His fellow-citizens watched her with admiration and reverence, as they listened to the priest who celebrated Mass on Sunday, while not understanding his Latin.

"Well, our pious and devoted community is now threatened by one of these emissaries of the devil and, of course, is the stranger who occupied the house on the edge of the forest. And if everyone already suspected earlier today in our hearts and it feared, after what I saw last night I can say without any doubt that Matilda has not only abandoned the right path shown to us by our Lord Jesus Christ, but has indelibly stained his soul by giving it to Satan himself. What we've seen can hardly be translated into words, and still ask for forgiveness from the Lord that I will have the audacity to try to do it, staining my mouth with the narrative of one of the highest manifestations of Sin. Because Matilda, last night, he was having a carnal relationship with none other than the devil himself. "

The statement aroused the wonder and increased spontaneous signs of the cross. Mary kept a few seconds of silence, to let his words were to the effect that sortissero, looking from one woman to another.

"The stranger was lying undressed and allowed himself to be possessed by a man we've never seen or will see in our village, no Christian has ever encountered anywhere else in the world. Because the man did not belong to this land and even deserves the name of human being. That was the personification of evil, Lucifer himself I believe, because in his eyes I saw the flames of hell in his face and I found the image of the infinite suffering that is destined for eternity those who move away from God Our Lord. He possessed and she took pleasure in the horrible act of sex. Dark forces have crept into his life as a sinner, the same dark forces which we must escape and that therefore we must eliminate from our community. Matilda has sold his soul to the devil and doing so is already dead, already forfeited to the Resurrection and eternal life that Jesus showed us the objective of our short stay in this world. "Another pause allowed to focus of these for the final moment. 'I think we should put an end to his earthly existence, before the evil becomes strong enough to grab us too. Jesus Christ in the Gospel of John tells us that " those who do not remain in me is thrown away like a branch and withers and is then collected to be thrown away and burned. " Therefore, in the name of the Lord and His Word, I say that we must put at stake the foreign! "

Three hours later, the entire village was animated by collective mania that Mary's words had aroused. Every citizen, including children, was prey to a sort of religious trance. The fear and hatred, together, formed a new energy source that did so already in the early afternoon, the main street of the village was occupied by a pile of wood from which protruded a pole, to which were attached strong cords .

The pyre was set up for Matilda.

***

It happened with incredible speed and the villagers acted in concert, as cogs in a single, perfect mechanism, as they had organized everything for weeks, instead of moving wave of blind rage that had invaded. Mary led the procession of men who volunteered to go and dig out Matilde, while the remaining citizens waited in a semicircle around the wood. Mary was looking forward the time when he would tell the city of their pious enterprise, in the hope that the Bishop giungesse voice.

When they arrived at the home of Matilda, Frederick, son of the baker, knocked violently at the door. Held in one hand a stick, like the rest of the men in the retinue of Mary, armed and clearly improvised, if the situation demanded. As if dark and demonic forces could be counteracted by blows with a club, but the adrenaline and fanaticism made them blind and stupid.

They spent maybe ten seconds without Matilda opened the door but were deemed sufficient to believe that attempts to avoid his fate. Frederick himself was struck by the rotten wood with a solid kick, breaking up the door and letting it fall to the ground in a cloud of dust. A gust of unbearable smell came from the house, in which Matilda was putting a book on the table against the wall.

When he saw the procession outside, said nothing but looked at them with deep hatred, like a cat who tried in vain to threaten the boss came up to the whip. That reaction infervorò even more souls already steeped in the spirit of murderous men, who barely held back from meeting and correrle trucidarla instantly. Perhaps it was the movement of Mary, who appeared in front of Frederick and he stepped inside the house, to stop them.

"Glory Be to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit 'Mary recited in perfect Latin, the language in which they listened to Mass every Sunday. "As it was in principle now and ever unto ages of ages" ended, accompanied by men in chorus.

"I do not know what you're doing," Matilda whispered, giving a half smile. "Let me go and give away your miserable country without which nothing will happen."

"Shut up, unfaithful harlot. Follow us and submit to the will of the Lord, because before him the devil that you've linked anything can, "said Mary.

"Evil will descend upon you and your family as a violent hail 'threatened Matilda.

" Lord, my rock, my fortress, my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge , "chanted Maria, referring to the Psalms. " My shield, my powerful salvation and my fortress. I call upon the Lord, worthy of praise, and I am saved from my enemies. "

"Your Lord will not save you from the fate to which you are condemning yourself, because there are forces beyond his understanding," continued Matilda. "Forces that now and know that you will regret what you are doing."

" He delivered me from powerful enemies, from those who hated me and were too strong for me. "

"I could not have done otherwise," added Matilda, and was both the only attempt to defend itself and the last time he opened his mouth.

" Save me from the furious enemies, triumph over my enemies make me and free me from the violent "Mary finished. "Take it!" Ordered immediately.

Men do not expect much.

***

The fire was an event in the village would be remembered for generations. The pyre immediately caught fire and the flames engulfed Matilda, firmly tied to the pole, as represented in the hands of citizens frightened and furious at the same time. She did not complain, even when her clothes caught fire and began to cook their meat. His last look was for Mary, mingled among the crowd, and many vowed that Matilda had to smile.

***

When she arrived at the village, Matilda was the world for more than ninety years. He had spent most of his life moving from city to city, changing constantly dwelling, environment, knowledge. It is not tied to anybody, because it was too dangerous.

Him, so he had identified from the outset, had appeared when Matilda had just turned thirty. If the front was found one afternoon when the horse strigliava a squire to rack up a loaf of bread. He was approached and his presence alone was enough to get her out of herself, reaching a mental state of complete dedication and provision . There was nothing particular happened. He had laid down the rules and she had accepted. A long time I did because he believed completely in his possession, but over time she realized that she had accepted some of his own free will.

"Come with me," he said. "I give your children and I will draw the life I want. In exchange, will be young, rich and beautiful forever. "

Matilda had left the horse, giving up the loaf of bread which they would have received, and had set out with him . Since then she stopped for a few years in the same place, because the others were not aware that time does not leave marks on his body. He allowed himself to him whenever he wanted and soon began to draw even pleasure.

One day he had also bought a Bible and had always kept with him, carrying the bag with a few clothes every time she moved. Deep in his heart he feared that things would go well forever and wanted to be ready and know what he found after his death, after a life spent in sin blacker.

That's why, as it burned at the stake, he feared for the fate of his soul. But also he found the strength to smile with cruelty, thinking about Mary and what awaited her and her offspring, since because of him he would never got what he wanted.

***

"The daughter of Mary, I do not know her name and did not even know if this was actually the name of his mother, was the first," says Isa in the kitchen, under the gaze of Simona in disbelief. If he had not experienced first hand the interpenetration of the absurd in the can, superstition, in reality, does not believe a word of the story of his mother. But the sad truth is that the story explains it all, and is trustworthy just for the fact that Isa would have no reason to risk it even more nervous telling a colossal lie.

"A few weeks later he was lured by a young boy accidentally met on the way back to Mirandola, where he was going to take sewing lessons at the convent. I know these details because they are handed down from mother to daughter since then and how my mother told me I will transmit them to you in hopes that you do the same ... at the time. "Launch a meaningful look to Simon, a prelude to what he says here recently. "She met this guy the same way that you knew Fabrizio, I Francis and Cristina ..."

"Daniel."

"... Daniel, it makes no difference. It was always him . You can imagine what happened next, because you've experienced it yourself. For the poor girl had to be even worse, because it was the first, as I said, and instead rely on the support of his mother, had to rely only on itself. The superstitious culture of those days was certainly helpful, because it came from what is said to be the only logical conclusion, although amazing. He had also seen her at the stake and his mother had told her of the threats he had received from Matilda. So the girl took two and two together and realized that the man who had impregnated her and then pulled painfully that she was carrying could not be that the devil himself that the stranger was tied. Lost his wife, had moved to the daughter of Mary, the true cause of premature death of Matilda. So, if you need someone to blame, know that this was in fact the cause of Mary Our mali. Part of her blood still flows in my veins, in your and in those of Cristina. "

"Because the girl did not speak to her mother about what happened to her?" Asks Simon. "What problem would have to believe them, after they had lived?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot a piece" Isa recalled. "I spent more than three days after the fire that Maria was found dead not far from the abandoned house where he stayed Matilda. They found her throat cut, a cut so deep that the head was nearly detached from the rest of the body. From that day, in the village, no one made any allusion to what had happened in those weeks and recall the events turned into legends. Only the daughter of Mary and his children would never forget, and is proof of the fact that five hundred years later we are still here to tell us about you and me. "

"Nonsense," says Simona.

"Nonsense," confirms Isa. "Our absurd, inescapable legacy."

***

"For years, she feared that her fate was even worse because then you are not actually turned 'Isa continues. "He was afraid that he had chosen as his new companion of adventures, so to speak, as it had been until then Matilda. Instead, the rules had changed: he discovered many years later, when his daughter, a daughter who had a normal relationship with her husband, ran to her, telling her that she had been tricked and attacked by a young man. The daughter of Mary recognized in the history of the dynamics of what had happened to her and understood. He explained what had happened to his daughter, giving rise to a sort of sad ritual that has remained for centuries. "

"Let me see if I understand," Simon tries to summarize, hoping that by explaining the story to herself and finding her mother's approval to feel less confused and walk away from the brink of madness. "This guy, this entity, whatever it is, Matilda exploited for sex."

"Not for sex, that was only half 'specific Isa. "It's as if he needed to keep vital energy in the world, to prolong its existence, and drew from the lives in this energy development that withdrew from Matilda and still pulls our bodies after having fertilized."

"It's terrible," Simon is surprised that he had done a pretty good idea, but now, hearing the reasoning of Isa, perceives the world around him as if he was falling down and rolling into a bottomless vortex.

"Absolutely, but the sad truth. Not surprisingly, when he shows himself in his true form he is old and ailing, because it's reached the limit, it can not stand by without new life. "

"But .." A thousand questions crowding the minds of Simon, who does not know where to start. "Anyway, I said" tergiversa, returning to its attempt to overview the situation, as a rational footing in a stormy sea of madness. "He exploited for his purposes, and Matilda Matilda lost jumped on her daughter Mary. He changed his style, though, because he decided to take it with no more than one person, but with the daughters of the descendants of Mary, when they were young and ... "

"Not with her daughters, but with the eldest daughter. This is also part of our destiny, as he called my mom, or of our inheritance, as I call it. By Maria on, there was our ancestor who had no other children besides the one conceived by him and never born. And the firstborn of each has always been a female. You do not represent an exception, as you see. "

Simon is still in awe: it seems to be no limit for the worst. "This to me is more difficult to believe," objects. "It's one thing to believe that he do what he does, but how can he have influence on our choices and the very nature? How can we decide whether to get married, if we have children and that sex will be? "

"If I knew I would have said. And not having an explanation, you may think it's just a coincidence. But I say it a coincidence that lasts for half a millennium is not worthy of the name. "

Simona does not respond.

"And another thing, another rule. Only the eldest is her victim, and not in a random time of life, but during the nineteenth birthday. Still, do not ask me why, even if an idea could be that, as the daughter of Mary was nineteen at the time of the fire, he might have chosen that moment for all of them. "

Simon returns with his mind until 1984, then a few months ago when Roberto and Mattia had celebrated nineteen years of Cristina. If only he knew ... "Why you told me all alone now?" Here's the question that among all winning the battle to emerge first. "The first girl told the story to his daughter shortly after the fact and the grandmother, from what I say, put you up to date immediately."

Isa was afraid this question. "There I was coming, 'she begins to take time. "I could have been mistaken, but I did it for your own good. For your life. "

***

"No mother, during all these years, has never dared to warn her daughter before the fact to happen," says Isa.

"Why?" Asks Simon. "Anyway, I'm not saying you should have warned me before, but you should calm down after , instead of leaving me with a question of being mad. In fact, you've really tried to upset the mind, because I've even brought to the gynecologist, you undoubtedly know that there would not remain a trace of anything. Why? "

"Wait, please, do not fret. And do not scream, I think that Cristina is out of the bathroom. "

Simona pricks up his ears and probably think it's really so. He hears footsteps in bare feet and a door closing.

"No one ever told the story before the time for fear of doing the same order that Mary did."

"It was a rule too? He decided he ? "

"This was no better or ... is an unwritten rule. No one has ever tried to prove otherwise, the stakes were too high. After all, Mary had tried to come between him and his drawings and had come out wrong, then everyone would do the same - to inform and groped his daughter in the hope that the resist would be a clear attempt to turn against him - faced a similar end. Death. "

"I keep saying, okay, but why did not you say to me even then?"

Isa sighed. "Do ... tries to make an effort and return you back in the state of mind that you had at nineteen, when you were a kid believes he can change the world, driven by his ideals. Can you? "

"I can do it," confirms Simon without hesitation. "Why have not changed much since then. Not until today, at least. "

"Well, then think of returning home after Fabrizio made you what you did and feel of this story. What would you do? "

Simon reflects. "I'd been blinded with rage. I wanted to destroy everything that I had come in sight. And surely, even though I knew it was useless, I tried Fabrizio far and wide to smash his face, he was a human being or not. "

Isa nods. "And then?"

Simon reflects. Think you understand where he wants to end up his mother, but not lie. "And then I spent my life trying to rescue me and my offspring from this silly burden."

"Right here I wanted," said Isa. "You were different. Perhaps not unlike the character level, not only, but also because it came at a time when the role of women has changed. You grew up in a world where women have learned to say no. All those who came before you and us, but I myself, have accepted their fate certainly not willingly, but realizing that fighting would not accomplish anything. But you've shown since girl tend to rebel against injustice and this ... this made me go do not know how many sleepless nights, especially when approaching the decisive moment of your nineteenth birthday. On the one hand I felt the need to tell you everything, as usual, not to make you feel worse than it should and not betray your trust ... but the other was afraid for your health, because the anger and the desire of rebellion would lead you to death. Unnecessarily. "

"Why unnecessarily? It is useless to try to avoid suffering as that which has befallen us? "

"In vain, because nothing will ever change that. You would never be able to not marry Roberto or anyone else in his place. You would not have avoided having a daughter. And you can not subtract Cristina to his fate. "

"Why not?"

"Why tell the story if he will kill you and still will complete your project with Cristina. Not to mention that, without having lived the experience, Cristina does not trust you ever. And if you believe and you were able to survive its wrath, I am convinced that he would find a way to pull the energy it needs. Because if you think about it, how powerful, does not need corteggiarci as a romantic lover: it could simply smashing against a wall and get the same violentarci and what he wants. "

"Then why ..."

"I think it does to make us suffer more. When you were with Fabrizio did not have the impression that they arrived, he had found true love, the man of your dreams? "

Simon nods.

'That's the disappointment and frustration that follow the ... are made even worse nightmare. When it rips my life, actually takes also part of our trust in Love. And so part of our happiness. I was never the same after Francis and even your father did not love as I loved him. I was no longer capable. "

"True," confirms Simon but is merely in the mind. "It is said that should tell you what I told you, to distract from Daniel Simon" says.

"Simon, give up, do not make me regret ..."

"There are other ways. Can I make her understand that it is not the right guy for her, her comparison with my experience with Fabrizio, convince her that it is only temporary and blinded by a crush ... "

"It would not do anything," repeated Isa, warming and raising his voice more than it wants. "Would risk life and for what? Not worth it. "

Simon felt an explosion of anger and disappointment. "As it is not worth the trouble? We are talking about Cristina, mother of his ... "

"Think" break the Isa. "Beyond the dark forces behind it, reflects on the fact itself. It is a minute. A horrible feeling, it is true, a bit 'of pain, but deep passes in a moment. How can you put your life at stake for so little? "

"But what are you saying? Have yourself a minute ago you said that we feel bad about making us fall in love and then putting in front of the awful truth, you yourself have said that has affected your life forever and do not tell me it does not hurt ! "

"One thing is to realize that something is wrong and painful to play another one's life to try to correct it, when you know perfectly well that he hopes not. And I said that does not hurt, just ... "

"And then there's still" Simona spits.

Isa crashes, gasp, not only for the enthusiasm with which he is discussing, but for what he is reading in the eyes of his daughter. "What do you mean?"

"I told you everything all right? 'Simona the presses. "There's more. Another rule. "

"Do not go any further, I do not know what you're talking about," Isa tries to defend himself.

"You mean it's just a case that ..."

"MOM!"

Cristina yells from the top of the stairs. Without knowing it, he interrupted the discussion in one of the most important, preventing Simona to find the last piece which is missing for a complete picture of the situation. He will never have occasion to discuss in private with her mother, because in four days died in an accident.

"Mom, where did you put my new vest?"

"I've washed, have stretched" says Simona. Isa is watching with awed expression.

"I recommend" whispers Isa, alarmed by the possible actions of her daughter, who has just proved he did not put judgment in the last twenty years, but at the same time raised by the unexpected interruption of the speech.

"Do not promise anything," said coldly, Simona, turning around and heading upstairs.

***

" The rest you know "Erika continued, reading the last lines from the notebook of Simona. Roberto still sat on the bed, the expression of those who had enough, but it was still not ready for anything. " I hope now you can understand my words of fire to Daniel and the allusion to his plan to take to bed and nothing else. I was trying to protect you, to warn you, but I realized that it was no where to turn away and let us not talk unnecessarily. Now do me any questions that you are at your disposal, so we have to find a solution. My grandmother told me that there is no way out, but I am convinced of the contrary. And we do it, whatever the cost, because I remain convinced that there will be other than what we have to suffer, there are other rules. Please do not blame me. I realize that you've read amazing things, but I would not have interest in writing if they were not true. Probably, in some attitudes that have had against Daniel you will be recognized and those in my grandmother's. I just hope it's not too late. I love you. "

A deep silence fell in the room for a few minutes. Erika reread some parts of the text, flipping back the pages, as though that operation could help her better understand and accept the truth. Robert kept his position, giving the impression of being able to stand firm for ever motionless, staring, thinking.

"What do you think?" Erika finally asked, putting the book closed on the nightstand.

"What it all comes back," remarked Roberto, vague.

"How ... in what sense? You mean the story I told myself, when Simon was a girl and ... "

"Yes, but not only. Back to what I found on Cristina, its likely pregnant ... at this point would really be too late, though Cristina is currently consulting on the sites because pregnancy is suspected of being pregnant. Simon became aware of the truth when the damage was done. If he had known, perhaps, would not ... "He dismissed the thought with a gesture of the head: it was useless to resort to if . «Back to what I said Matthias, on the evening of the rosary. I had not given importance, but at this point ... told me that he saw Daniel smiling. He had his revenge, he was happy. He made her pay to Simon for not respecting the rules and was about to complete his evil plan with Cristina. And my dreams are back. Those women, those were the ancestors of Simon, the victims of this ... this thing, trying to warn me of ... "

"Kill them, you say?"

"So it seems. Actually, yes, I'm sure. But I do not know who alludessero, if not to Christina and Daniel. "

'O Christina and her son she was carrying. Although it is inexplicable that you saw Simona same order you to kill your daughter. "

"I said, but he was reluctant. It was the only one who said with a sad expression, rather than decisive and hateful. It was as if aware that he was the only measure to be taken, as opposed to what I suggested to her heart. Because at this point I am convinced that the way out of this hell is just that: break the line, cut the power source of this being. Perhaps he had already guessed Simona, but could not accept it, not like I do, and does not mention in the book. "

"And what would you do then?" Erika asked, incredulous.

"I have no intention of touching Cristina," he hastened to meet Roberto. "I will try ... I ... What the fuck, I do not know, this story is so ... so absurd, so impossible that ... "He shook his head. He was sweating so amazing. "The first thing we do is track down Christine, I have the horrible suspicion that she went to look for Daniel. She has a pretty damn similar to that of Simon, for this often clashed, and I bet Daniel is looking for ... I do not know, however, we must stop them. "

"And as we find it?"

"I try to phone her, maybe you are lucky enough to receive a response. Meanwhile, I would say to go to Parma, where there is a place to begin to look for Daniel would be the campus of the University, where he always met. It seems to me that Simon had told me that he lives in an apartment nearby. "

"Come, then," agreed Erika. "I mean, if I can be ..."

"Do not even ask for it, now you're in it up to my neck," interrupted Roberto, getting out of bed to look in the drawer of his bedside the phone never used, so it was also hoped that load.

The idea to take action, to do something, as he felt resigned and helpless, helped him to think less about the nightmare in which he had transformed his life and fear of what still awaited him.

***

Shortly after it learned of the terrible story of her mother, shocked by the absurdity of the story so much as by the sense of betrayal that stemmed from the silence of Isa in all those years, Simon went upstairs, directly to the room of Cristina. He had no idea what he would say, but something had to find, because he could not risk arriving too late and let her daughter fell into the trap of Fabrizio or whatever you called. As long as there was already falling.

Before entering the room he tried to regain some semblance of inner tranquility, breathe deeply and pretending that nothing had happened strange. Cristina was afraid that he could read words and thoughts in her face that she did not want to send, at least not right away, not to play for the already little chance he thought he had to reason with her. She forced herself to smile, came close to a real laugh, urging the muscles of the mouth and cheeks as if he were a ball of modeling clay, in the hope that it remained an aura of serenity.

"May I?" He asked, pushing the door slightly and Cristina's room.

"Eh?" Responded the girl, who had his back, facing the window, and was tying her bra. "Yes," when he realized that it was his mother.

Simona came into the room and closed the door behind him. He hesitated, watching her daughter getting dressed, then sat on the edge of the bed. It was time to say something, anything, but his brain seemed to tilt. "So what is Daniel," she began.

Cristina, who had just slipped a singlet and was rummaging in the drawer of the nightstand looking for a shirt, he stopped and turned in the direction of Simon with a quizzical look: he had already received a strange tone in the voice of his mother. "Yes. He was embarrassed, poor thing, I'm sorry ... "

"No," interrupted Simon, caught for a moment by a fit of anger toward the boy. He pretended shyness in front of Cristina, but she had dismissed him with that smile and contemptuous and arrogant. He wanted to make fun of them until the end. "No, not my impression. Were you more afraid for you that was not at ease, but he was okay. "

"Maybe," Cristina granted it. Overturned three or four shirts stretched to retrieve one of those in the bottom drawer. Normally, Simon would have objected to that, but there were far more serious and important issues to be addressed at that time.

"I ..." he continued, only to avoid another silence. "Is that a good guy, now that you are getting to know better?"

Cristina is still blocked. Dropped their clothes and with a sigh eloquently stood up. He was staring at the wall above the headboard of the bed and for a while 'not shifted his gaze. "What do you say to me, Mom?" He asked.

"No, I ...» Simona immediately defended himself.

"It's clear that you have to tell me something, and it is also clear that what you tell me. "

"What I tell you, in your opinion?" The tone had already done more safely and with the first signs of fighting spirit, in response to the reaction of Cristina, full of latent adolescent arrogance.

"What you do not like Daniel" sanctioned the girl. "As normal as any boy does not like any mother who sees her daughter in love, as if I were still a child who can not judge what is right and what is wrong. You've seen a movie, I just hoped you were above such things. But I noticed it looked like before, how did you react when you walked in and I've presented. "

"Slowly, slowly, not run, I have not said anything," remarked the Simona.

"Then smentiscimi" provoked the Cristina, staring into her eyes and stretching out his arms.

"I ..." continued Simon, standing in turn, if only not to feel inferior position. He must try to assert his authority nursery, although Christina had always managed the extremely difficult, since he had entered puberty. "I will not say that I like, I do not know, at least not much," he began, cautiously.

"Not at all, you can say" corrected Cristina.

"Ok, I know only what little I've mentioned you, in fact almost nothing. But I know quite well the boys, girls have been ... "

"... Even I was girl, and these I have already seen, blah blah blah, experience," he mimicked her daughter. "Mom, you're predictable. You are reciting a script. Think about it, these things must avertele gave your mom when you were my age and I've given you a nuisance must be crazy, so why repeat it to me? Why not let the world go ... "

"I'm not blocking anyone," interjected Simon, raising his voice to block the flow of dense words of Cristina. "And I'm not making comparisons, I'm just ..." But the mental confusion, fatigue, fear and tension of that afternoon were playing a bad joke, not making them find the words he sought.

"I do not know what to say, because you realize yourself that you do not have real reasons to be angry with Daniel."

"I do not have WITH HIM" cried Simon, obtaining the dual effect of silencing Cristina and find some 'determination.

"Why scream, you hear from you granny? You agree with you too? "

"As far as I can be the best boyfriend in the world," said Simon, ignoring that last comment. "Indeed I will hope, but I just want to warn you because INI ..."

"Because of you has already happened," preceded Cristina clenched teeth.

"Yes, but not only, it is because in general they all look wonderful early reports, the boy you like is the man of your dreams, you'd be willing to marry him the next day ..."

"If I can please you do not want to marry Daniel, not for the next five years, provided that we are still together."

"Would you be willing to give him everything, because you are convinced that ..."

"What do you mean?" This time Cristina did not allow his mother to continue to talk about leaving your comment. "What do you mean?" He repeated, with more strength.

"I will not say anything, just that you have to be careful and properly evaluate all aspects before ..."

"You think it's a girl of those?" Spat Cristina, both blushing with embarrassment, the anger that stemmed from treating certain topics. Not to mention that Simon had centered in the middle of the question, why further increased his fury. "You think I'm a whore who goes to bed with the first that understood?" He began to cry.

"I never thought about this and not think about anything, because I know what kind of girl you are. I know you're educated, and I have always had the father meets ... "

"Yes, cut the licks, tell me the truth. If they thought would not be here to tell me these things. "

Simon took a breath to speak, then checked himself. He reflected, then shoot. "When I was nineteen, just like you do now - and I do not think that it is invented to make the comparison with you, it's the truth - I ... I had met a boy I was madly in love, love at first sight in a disco, a very romantic Valentine's evening and ... "

Christina waited more weeping in silence.

"I got pregnant. At nineteen, he was the lesser of two evils, because ... Well, because he went, he reacted badly and ... In short, without going into detail lost the baby. It is a story that does not even know his father, a secret that I carry within me and that has in part ruined his life, not that I've recovered thanks to Dad and to you. It all happened because I let myself go too much with a person of whom I knew nothing. So you think I believe if I tell you that this is not the usual scene of heavy mother who tries to set some limits to his daughter, but a sincere advice from friend to be careful to let it pass you the time to know you more deeply, to see if Fabrizio interest at a deep level or ... "

"A Daniel" corrected Cristina.

"How?" Said Simon, losing his train of thought.

"His name is Daniel, not Fabrizio."

"Oh, sorry," said Simon, adding that he wanted So there is no difference . "Anyway."

"Anyway, nice try, nice words, I am also sorry for what happened to you, but the juice does not change" attacked Cristina. "Are you opposed to our relationship."

"But why do not you understand? Why are you so stupid? "Simon was frustrated, well aware of his attitude towards Fabrizio, the total dependence on him which he had found the victim, an attraction and admiration for which he could have killed. Cristina was obviously at that stage, but it should not give up the attempt to open her eyes. To save it.

Cristina smiled contemptuously. "I am stupid? I'm not the one you got pregnant is like a cow, "snapped and ran out of the room, headed downstairs. Simona is petrified. His suspicions were correct: Cristina had never addressed her with words even remotely offensive and gave her the cow .

But the major problem was different: the first attempt went badly. Cristina was not willing to question Daniel, even before the story of the traumatic experience of her unwanted pregnancy. Simon wondered how he could hope to make them believe the story of heredity, that terrible sentence which was predestined, even if you deign to listen to her motherly advice.

One step at a time , he thought. He decided he would try to discredit Daniel touching aspects other than purely sexual and that as a last alternative would tell the truth to Christina. Maybe putting it in writing, to avoid being constantly interrupted as had happened that afternoon.

***

"Oh, hello, Cristina" Olga greeted by opening the front door of the apartment and finding, surprisingly, the granddaughter of Isa. It was not yet come to visit her after the ugly incident did Simona and in general had always submitted unwillingly even if it was accompanied by her parents. She was a hard, like most teenagers her age. Adolescent girls of her age here in Italy, because in Ukraine the girls knew a very different and were less capricious and more respectful. "How are you?"

"Where is Grandma?" Asked Cristina, without smiling. There was no time for conversation, not with Olga.

"Lei. .." Olga said, puzzled and impressed by the attitude of the rude girl. He had just taken from his mother. If she were his daughter he would say a few words about how to behave, but her daughter was in Ukraine to try to bring home some savings to pay for school. "It's in the living room, waiting for them to prepare to eat."

Cristina Olga entered and passed through a rush and would have certainly affected if the caregiver had not pulled back. "Go on, be glad to see," he said, trying to keep warm. She closed the door, wondering what had happened and he imagined that Cristina had quarreled with his father, who had forced her to visit her grandmother, as was proper. But soon abandoned the conjecture: it was not his business and there was a dinner to prepare.

***

Matthias had spent the whole morning by his grandmother Gisella. Dad told him he would be committed against his will, to talk with a friend of the mother but that he and Christine would have reached for lunch together. He had also promised that he would accompany him in the afternoon in the pool and that would be a blast.

Gisella had prepared a hearty breakfast of hot chocolate, cookies, croissants and jam, but Mattia had nibbled only a couple of biscuits. Since the death of his mother had lost the pleasure of doing many things and one of them was eating. Another was enjoying the summer holidays: the school had been over for several days, yet he had even the slightest part of the happiness which is usually the beginning of summer break brought him. Although only a child, had often wondered if he would ever really been happy from then on.

"Would you like to try Stefano call here?" Gisella had asked him after breakfast. Stephen was a classmate who lived even half a kilometer from there and already a couple of occasions he was called upon to try to draw a smile and a few hours of light-heartedness to Matthias, but in vain.

"No," he answered. "I have to do some 'exercises." He brought with him the backpack he used at school and had taken the book out tasks for the holidays. "Today I have a page of math, which I like best."

"You're very good" had praised his grandmother. "I do not know how many moms would envy you, and sit alone to do their homework, and math, among other things, that nobody likes."

"I envy the other hand, even if their mothers are not happy," she replied Mattia, surprisingly, the expression of the saddest Gisella had ever read in his face. "Because at least my mother have it yet," he explained, opening the book to the page of the day and catching up a pencil from his box of Spiderman .

A Gisella had contracted the stomach. He wanted to go and hug him, arruffargli hair, fill it with kisses, but she stopped: actions would be appropriate for a child, but at that moment was far from Matthias, pulled from his childhood by a tragic event. It was found to be hoped that at least he had to suffer other injuries for some time.

***

"Hello, Grandmother," Christine said goodbye, entering the room plunged into darkness and filled with a cool temperature, although there was no air conditioner or fan on. Sometimes, the mere presence of an elderly person in the house seemed to somehow make it less hot and muggy in summer.

Isa did not answer, persisting nell'inspiegabile silence in which she had taken refuge after the death of his daughter. Unlike other occasions he was not watching TV, or was busy leafing through magazines or knitting. She was sitting, his eyes planted against the wall in front of him, where a piece of antique furniture and home to the old bulky cathode ray tube TVs and some pictures framed photos of Matthew and Christina by children and Simon and Rob have their wedding day.

"Grandma," repeated Christina, raising his voice and keeping of a serious attitude, not really angry, but with nerves on edge, ready to explode. It might well consider that the worst day of his life. He moved forward a few paces, taking in the visual field of Isa, so he was forced to pay attention to what was showing her the view, since they could no longer count on hearing. Or would not.

Isa lifted his head slightly but his eyes did not follow the movement, as they had been nailed to its original position. He made no smiles, no wonder no happiness at being in front of her grandchild. A subtle, involuntary contraction of the upper lip betrayed a certain inexplicable nervousness on his part.

"How was that?" Cristina asked bluntly, throwing a casual look to the hallway that led to the kitchen to make sure that Olga was not listening. In any case, what difference did it make?

Isa did not move but once again his face was talking to her. A slight wrinkle was added to those already rolling down his forehead and eyes appeared a shade somewhere between sadness and fear.

"Do not pretend not to hear or understand" the attacked Cristina, he perceived as the thin barrier that was holding back from lashing out against his grandmother was rapidly losing consistency. She reached down, bending knees, and stood straight in the face of Isa, with decision. I almost took her head in her hands to force her to look into her eyes.

"I know everything, right? I know the whole story and ... I also know you're only pretending to have lost his speech and that you are perfectly clear, you just ... afraid, "he ventured, driven by adrenaline, only realizing as he spoke of the seriousness of his words, if it were proved true. "So if you want to avoid other catastrophes, he speaks, because I need to know." The tone and expression left no doubt that the threat was not to span the air.

"He said he would not have said anything," said Isa, speaking for the first time in weeks. The gesture seemed almost painful, so much that she moved her face from side to side, as if every word rend his throat. "When she did the night before?"

"No," said Cristina, finding a bit 'of calm, but without getting up. "He wrote everything in a notebook that he had hidden. I think ... had probably decided to tell the story of that Tuesday evening, to make me read and then to help me understand, but has not had time. "

"If you asked for it" said, contemptuously, Isa.

"But what are you saying?" Was shocked Cristina.

"She knew what that would go through. I had advised, but he would not listen. He should have let things go and how they should be here to laugh about it. "

"I hope you're joking," interrupted Christine, with a chuckle. "If there's one thing to reproach mom is that she was not immediately clear. He spent three days trying to convince me that being with Daniel was wrong, but I was never really explained why. If I had said before ... "

"I do not have believed" the anticipated Isa. "Make it difficult to believe even now, you come on purpose to get a confirmation."

"And you gave me the confirmation, but I did not really need, my mother would never have invented such a story. The real reason why I came here is I wanted to understand what made you decide not to tell her all these years. Do you realize what you did to her? "

"If it is done alone. She was stubborn, your mother, you know better than me. He wanted to stop a runaway train. "

"But if I had told the truth when it was time, maybe it would have been less angry and better reasoned. Instead of being mad believe you left for twenty years and suddenly have revealed that he was right and that you wanted to keep a secret. "

"You think he would have gone differently had he known the truth when she was a girl? It was worse then. He spent his life searching for solutions to this thing, but ... "

"And is not the right thing to do, rather than passively accept it?"

"... But he never would have prevented the events that followed their cycle. Do you think that could have prevented your dad to know and fall in love? He like any other man, I mean. And you think we could have avoided getting pregnant and having a female first? "

"You mean that he controls and decides all these things? "

"Sure."

"And how do you know? Who told you? "

"I know that's all. We all know, before you and your mother, who suddenly think they can make a revolution, as if you were the only ones that matter to you about. "

"And is not it? Those who came before us were probably too frightened or too superstitious to turn against him. "

"And they were right, you do not see what happened to your mom?"

"Maybe. But I repeat that if he knew beforehand what he must have known we could have fought together and seek a solution. "

"There is a solution, not you understand? The solution is death! "

"Exactly," agreed Christine, getting to his feet with a mischievous smile.

"What do you mean?" Said Isa allarmandosi, mouth wide open.

"Nothing," demurred Cristina, looking in another direction.

"Cristina, do not ..."

"What else is there?" Asked Cristina, leave without finishing the sentence. "What is the other rule?"

"What rules?"

"That missing. The mother suspected that there were other, which I had not told the whole truth. Me too I am sure, because I know ... I knew the mother and not at all sure that he preferred the risk of death to the idea that I should suffer what you suffered, too. "

"There is no rule was invented around her, what did he say?"

"He did not say anything, but I wish you would tell me something. In respect of memory and especially my mother. "

"I have nothing to say, 'Isa confirmed but could not look at Cristina's eyes as he spoke.

"Whatever" said Cristina. "Maybe he could help me ..." He walked towards the corridor, hoping that his tactics had no effect. But psychology dives could work with the kids, the harder we cascasse an old woman like her grandmother. That fact was silent and let her go.

As he left the room, determined to complete the project that had occurred just after reading the book of Simon and had reconfirmed after the brief conversation with his grandmother, Christine could not resist the urge to feel first hand the his mother's necklace around his neck. Feel its texture between her fingers had an invigorating effect, as if he were caressing and encouraging Simona.

Standing in the door, took out the necklace and turned it in his fingers, feeling the cool metal on your skin like a shower of icy droplets on a hot summer day. He closed his eyes and squeezed the jewel that had given his father, as a sign of the permanence of Simona though physically he was away. Not held back her tears, but it was only sadness: there was even a glimmer of joy because he could really feel the presence of his mother and the love with which he was accompanying to the solution to this terrible nightmare that was going on now centuries.

Seconds later, he opened his eyes and put the necklace under his shirt. With a dismissive gesture he wiped his eyes and it was then, and bent his head slightly to one side, the gaze fell on the two small shelves on the wall, right next to the door jambs. They were packed with tiny frames, which contained photographs of deceased loved ones in the foreground of Isa: there were her parents and her husband on a shelf, while the lowest one housed some uncles, paternal grandfather of Christina and Matthias and portrait of Simon who chose to remember it, the latter still without a frame, leaning against the wall.

In the photo, Simon's face was very funny, smiling, because that was the image that best described the type of woman, wife, mother and friend she was. Tripped on a summer day in the garden, the first floor of herself as she looked up, the pupils in the upper part of the orbit, and he shrugged, as if to say: "If you're going, let me picture this" . Why not be particularly loved shooting.

Cristina found the strength to smile remembering that moment, that was very clear in my mind. He had to go back to the summer before, if he did not remember wrong, but only a few months before in a completely different world, like another life. A life where Cristina and Matthew could still count on a united family and where the future of Christina looking good and not threatened by dark forces and uncontrollable.

The expression of Simona in the picture gave the illusion that he was turning his eyes to the photographs on the shelf above. Cristina followed his gaze and at the hypothetical line that started from the eyes of his mother found his grandfather and father Aldo Isa, the great-grandfather who had never known. They had both died young, poor things: his grandfather had fifty years, if he did not remember well, was just a child then, and the great-grandfather had to be on the same ...

The idea flashed. He felt a shiver down my spine, as he watched take shape in his mind his intuition. He shifted attention back to the photo of Simon and this time it seemed that his smile was accentuated. He spun around and found Isa still stuck in the same position as before.

"How did they die?" He asked. "How are the dead grandfather and your dad?"

***

"It should be under CRI," said Roberto, while imboccava the road towards Parma.

Erika sitting in the passenger seat, was holding his cell phone, a Nokia 3310 that seemed to come unhinged from the prehistory of the phone directly. Pressing the cursor key and looked up the name in the phone book did start calling, wondering what the first generation phones were easier to use than current ones.

"Play?" Said Robert, impatiently.

Erika waited, but got nothing but three beeps repeated in sequence. "When the last time you reload the card?" He asked, removing the phone from his ear and controlling the display.

"I have no idea, I never use it" confessed Bob.

"I believe that the SIM will be deactivated," said Erika. He pulled his phone from her purse and copied the number from the phonebook of Cristina 3310. "I feel with my own."

"What an idiot I am!" Roberto is autoaccusò. "Willy-nilly I realize that you can not live without mobile phone." He accelerated to go with the orange light and a stop to avoid inappropriate. "Respond?"

Erika shook her head. "Rings, but does not respond. You may have left home, started the race ... "He hung up, disconsolate.

"It would be the first time she goes out without a phone, but the situation justifies it," admitted Robert. "Nothing, then continue towards the campus and hopefully well. You know where exactly? "

"No, not exactly, but ..."

"We will follow the directions, ok." Roberto accelerated further: was it worth risking even a fine for speeding, just to reach Cristina. He only hoped not to find a patrol and having to stop. "Erika?"

"Yes?" To counter the tension was rearranging the number of Cristina.

"Thanks," murmured Roberto.

"What?"

"By being here. By contacting me. For making me discover this story, which is a terrible thing, but ... "

"The honors" Erika finished for him. "At Simona, I mean."

"Yes," he confirmed. "It would be better if he were still here, but ... died for a just cause, died as the winner. "

"You said well, it would be better if he were still here," remarked Erika.

"Undoubtedly. But at least ... "

"Wait!" Erika suddenly interrupted him, making him jump. "Pull over!"

"Why? What is it? We can not ... "but in the meantime, slammed on the brakes and was positioned at the roadside.

"We must be mistaken," said Erika. "If I were Christine, in a situation so absurd, I would go by the only person who could maybe give me some more explanation and clear my head."

Roberto lit in turn, wondering how they had not thought of right away. "Isa" he said.

"Exactly. She told the truth to Simon and can confirm it to Cristina, who always ... "

"Yeah, that always magically come back wanting to talk." But Roberto thought that probably already knew the real cause of the silence of his mother-in-law. "Come on!" He turned and began to travel towards Torvinaia.

It did not take much more than a quarter of an hour, if they had not really met a patrol of Carabinieri, which made them slow. Roberto tried to explain its urgency but there was no listening. "They all say so," taunted the policeman, while calmly wrote down her license data, unaware that it was writing the fate of an unfortunate girl of nineteen.

***

"Listen, I do not know what you have told your mother, but ..." Isa responded, visibly in distress.

"Grandma, tell me what else are you afraid?" Urged the Cristina, again beside her. From the kitchen came the inviting smell of the sauce Olga, which caused a rumbling stomach. "I no longer have to fear anything, if I had not yet figured out I'm pregnant and games are made."

"Oh yeah?" Said Isa, who evidently had not drawn the right conclusions. "And you have ..."

"No, I have not told him to tell the truth I have not told anyone, not even Dad. I wanted him to be the first to know, before Daniel or whatever his name is ... but I had not yet found the courage and the right words. I have time, but ... "

"What are you waiting to tell him? Run, grit your teeth and then it's all over! 'Isa had taken heart and finally was watching his grandson in the eye. He had feared that the story of Simona had come fast enough to stop his plans and that Cristina would have had to endure violence worse than those that normally would be allocated. Because if he had not obtained what he sought spontaneously, if they would be taken by force.

"That's what I'm going to do," she lied Cristina, to play along and ride the wave of euphoria Isa. "But even before knowing the final aspect of the story. Tell me the truth, there is something that has to do with his grandfather? With ... our husbands? "

Isa bowed his head. She folded her hands in her lap and inhaling it took courage. "Your mother probably told you, or always write my version of his name was Francis. It happened to me exactly what happened to Simon and you will only change the dynamics because they were different times, nothing ... "

"I know, Grandma, but vai point."

"I'm sorry. After ... after I had, say, duped and taken what was ... "

"I know, Grandma, do not you look around the bush, I know it all."

"Be patient, it is not easy. Anyway, so, when I returned from my mother in tears and told me what was behind I thought the worst was over. I should just live with the thought of having to tell the same things to my daughter one day, and especially with the idea that she would have to experience the same pain that I could not move a finger, but I thought the worst was the same as I had just experienced. "

"But?"

"But ..."

***

If he had to find an exact date when the new part of the nightmare had begun, Isa would traced back to 1985, about a year after Simon had fallen victim to Fabrizio. And the triggering event was a terrible dream that would never be forgotten, if only for the tragic consequences it had.

In that dream was walking with her husband, Aldo, which is already quite strange, because I often dreamed of. Hand in hand, traveling along a gravel path with trees on both sides, in a beautiful autumn day, dominated by the color yellow, which pervaded the atmosphere like a fairy dust that had settled everywhere. Isa had experienced the joy that came from that romantic moment and, at the height of happiness and love, she stopped to kiss Aldo. He turned and looked at her with love, but her face had changed.

It was Francis. It was him .

Isa had awakened with a start, scared, afraid for a moment to be back to live in the worst period of his life, one where he met Francis and was aware of the absurd where his family curse. Within seconds, in which he breathed heavily, his heart seemed to have come out from his chest, were sufficient to testimoniarle that it was all a dream. She turned to Aldo, who was fast asleep leaning on its side and had not noticed anything, and had bent forward to see that it was indeed him and that his face had not changed. She felt stupid to make sure that everything was OK and was put back to sleep.

But there was only the beginning.

A few weeks later, Aldo had gone home by yet another business trip. Isa had heard the car into the garage and called Simon at the table. She was happy and carefree that night: it was a Saturday and the next day they would all be together for the entire day. He had strange thoughts for the head and the episode of Simon and Fabrizio and remorse for not having ever told the truth, which often tormented her, it was oddly done by some time. Nothing, in short, would have justified a possible trick of his mind.

Therefore almost gave a shriek when the kitchen window, he saw Francis. Although it is dark outside, the driveway leading from the garage to the front door was illuminated by a pair of lamps, so there was no doubt. With a thousand thoughts that were taking shape in his mind, he started to run upstairs and locked in a room with Simon, in an attempt to understand what he was doing and to seek a solution.

But he had not had time to take a step that the door was open and Aldo was entered. "What has happened?" He had asked her husband, immediately noticing her shocked expression.

"I ... I thought I saw someone outside ... "she stammered Isa, indicating the window.

"I am" he assured Aldo, looking sideways. "I've just been there, have not you heard the garage?"

"Oh," he concluded Isa. "How stupid of me ... I'll be confused ... "He smiled, then Simona was down from upstairs and threw her arms around the neck of Aldo and the tension was dissolved. But the soul of Isa had set in motion a mechanism that would turn its gears for years.

Between 1985 and 1988 the occasions when Isa had the feeling to revise her husband Francis had multiplied alarmingly, reaching a peak of more frequently when they were already married Simon and Roberto and Cristina had almost a year. In some of these episodes, which did not affect the more his dreams at night, but took place in broad daylight, in different situations, Isa had found a step from lashing out against her husband, not recognizing it as such, and fearing that somehow him you were making fun of her.

His mental stability had been severely tested. He spent whole nights awake wondering if the same time giving the brain or the psychological trauma he suffered as a girl was not only now showing its consequences. It had come to assume to be examined by a doctor, for fear of having a brain tumor that they cause hallucinations. He never thought of being a victim of yet another rule , because his mother had never mentioned anything.

The story escalated in the summer of 1988. In July alone, Isa had identified with Francesco Aldo least once a day, often several times a day. His rationality was rapidly failing, and she became aware that it could not sustain much longer. She was convinced that someday he would feel an irresistible impulse to attack and then Aldo should have found a good explanation, though he did not want Aldo deem the dead or, worse, or he would be forced to also tell him the truth. Thing that would prompt you to contact Aldo on the spot the best psychiatrist in the area.

Then, in the late afternoon of a day in early August, the worst happened. Aldo, who was on holiday, had made up his mind to climb on the roof of the house to clean up and fix the antenna, convinced he could get a better reception from local channels to follow in his spare time he loved. Isa did not agree, he would find more appropriate to contact an antenna and still did not see the need for this intervention. But Aldo knew and he knew that if you put something on his head there was no way to make him desist.

So, worried, had followed him with his eyes as he climbed the high ladder that led up to her roof. Urging him countless times to be careful where he put his foot - at fifty years Aldo was still as good as a kid, but you could never rest easy - he had watched as he moved between the tiles. "There's everything up here," she commented.

"Come on, do 'in a hurry," she cried Isa, apprehensive.

"You should tell me when you see better, as you move the antenna" Francis had suggested.

"Okay, but be careful where you step," she replied Isa, moving to go to the kitchen and turn on the TV monitor. But after a few steps she stopped. It happened again. Aldo had become Francis. A deep depression took hold of her immediately. And a great fear, too. He went back and looked up to the roof. The man who would have been her husband had his back. She called him.

***

"Keith?"

Isa is waiting at the foot of the ladder, his face turned toward the sky as if he were watching a fireworks display. But there is nothing so nice to see what he fears. He feels that the knees tremble and threaten to make her fall to the ground to the tension, but he should know, should occur.

The man on the roof again. It is Francis. It's him . "What is it?" He mutters.

Isa remains silent and inactive. Should say or do something, like he always does on these occasions, not to alarm Aldo, but fails. He feels that today is different, now that his mind is not to draw absurd hallucinations. What we face today has really Francis, as young as forty years ago, wearing the clothes of Aldo.

"What do you want?" Shouts yet. "What the fuck you doing standing there? I asked you to go and turn on the television! Oh! You move? "

That language and attitude are typical of Aldo but Isa did not fall into the trap. It's all part of his plan to put it into confusion. Probably it was so from the beginning: Aldo has never really existed, it was always just a cover with which Francis had brought out his diabolical plan. This explains how she manages to make sure that the elder women of the line is always a female, he is the father, he also said that these rules.

But now he has reached the limit.

Isa is off the scale and pretends to return home. The man on the roof of welcoming his decision with an exclamation satisfied and back to work on the antenna. Isa makes sure that is turning back and shoulders, with stealthy step, pervaded by a new force and a decision that has never experienced before, back at the foot of the ladder. Staring straight man, begins to rise, slowly, one rung after another, trying not to hear.

After a few seconds on the roof. Remains standing straight, arms at his sides, staring at the figure before her china. From that sees the houses in the neighborhood, within which women they will be preparing dinner for their families. Isa envies, because right now it is convinced of not having a family, that they never had, to have been duped for years by a demonic being. A gust of air from the front of the fringe deviation, highlighting the curved eyebrows in an expression of pure hatred.

"Where the fuck ..." the man mutters to himself. "So?" Shouts, raising his voice and turning slightly. Probably sees a shadow and frightened, because it spits a terrible blasphemy but has no time to say other words. Isa is beside him and with a force alien to her takes him by the shoulders and throws him violently over the edge of the roof. It is a moment. Aldo fell sprawling, without finding the strength to cry, so much has been taken by surprise. While copper disappears behind the gutter, her eyes meet those of Isa and seem to ask: "Why?".

Isa takes a step forward. It protrudes from the roof and watch the body of Aldo lying in the garden, one leg bent in an unnatural way, and a puddle of blood that extends below the head. He smiles. He feels free now took its revenge for everything. He turns and begins to descend. When it reaches the earth, dedicates another look distracted her former husband, then back into the house and sits on the couch.

***

"You ... you kill your grandfather? "Cristina said incredulously. He was sitting during the story, because he feared not to hold the excess of emotions that this day was the reserving.

"Not really," he defended himself Isa. "It was not me, at that time. It was ... "He hesitated, because finding the right words to explain it was a business and in that case could not even refer to those used by his mother.

"Even him?" Cristina shook her head. "I ... I begin not to understand, not to believe ... In short, it seems that he controls everything and everyone that comes into us, that decides our destiny, our actions. "

"I do not know what to say," apologized Isa. "If there is an explanation for what I did, I can not give it to you, because my mother was already dead at the time and I had never mentioned anything before. What I know is that I remember now what happened, but in those moments I was absent, passive spectator of my actions. Only half an hour later I came back to me and I realized what had happened. "

"And how did you not get caught?"

"It was not difficult: I called an ambulance and told that his grandfather had fallen from the roof while trying to fix the antenna. I called your mother and told her the same thing. No one ever suspected a thing, there was no reason, and could in no way due to my involvement. I was desperate, but convinced her not to reveal the truth, because I was certain of not being guilty of being a pawn in the hands of a Higher Power. "

"And who tells you that your mind was not to gamble away a bad joke?" Objected Cristina. "You yourself told me that he thought about the psychological consequences of trauma when you were nineteen and ..."

"The fact is that a part of me had always expected it would happen sooner or later such a thing."

"What do you mean?"

Isa looked down. "As a child witnessed the murder of my grandfather at the hands of my grandmother."

"Madam, is almost ready," announced Olga overlooking the entrance hall. He was holding a wooden spoon in one hand and was smiling, of course unaware of the speeches that were taking place between Isa and Cristina. "Will you stop for lunch, too?" He added, turning to the girl.

"Olga, let alone a moment, when we're done I'll catch 'Isa dismissed her in no uncertain terms. "Thank you."

Olga's eyes widened in an expression of pure wonder and his mouth widened into a smile so wide as to seem unnatural. "Speak again," he said. Then he turned to Cristina with a look full of gratitude and with tears in his eyes. "Good girl, Christina. Riusita you're good. "Then he turned and returned to the kitchen.

Isa began to establish his niece. "Your mother has never known anything of what I'm saying," he continued, softly. "Or rather, he knows a different version. In short, when I was a child and I lived with my parents and my grandparents, I had five years, I forget ... One afternoon I went into my grandfather's room to wake him from his nap. Usually you wake up alone, but that day was late. In order not to disturb him, slowly opened the door of his room and looked out, careful to be silent. What I saw shocked me so much that my mind drew him as a child in an imaginative way and only later realized the truth, as incredible. In the room there was also my grandmother and she was standing by the window, motionless, staring at my grandfather who was sleeping. I will never forget his face in those moments, an empty face, devoid of any feeling, that made her look like a totally different person from what I knew, who knew everyone. He wore a black dress that made her skin seem even whiter, like a specter. Something in his attitude caused me to not enter the room but I was watching curiously. Maybe I was out and I had come to play! Because ... "Her eyes grew bright. "... After a while 'grandmother arose and went to his side of the bed. He took a pillow. He walked around the bed and put her on the side of my grandfather and ... with a decision, a force and a frightening rage pushed the cushion against the face of his grandfather and incredibly managed not to throw himself off the bed when he began to squirm and throat, ... and ... "

"I understand, my grandmother, I understand," he tried to stop and calm Cristina, who was sharing his pain as if for help on the first person to murder.

"And in the end I saw the body of his grandfather and grandmother relax lift the pillow and throw him on his side of the bed. How to ... as having the feeling of being watched she turned and saw me, and my grandmother was still, the good, kind person I knew and was even crying. He called me by name and invited me to come in and when I reached it, I cried, I hugged her and said, 'My grandfather is dead, Isa, my grandfather is gone, he had a heart attack in his sleep' and I I said nothing for a long time that was also my truth and I was actually convinced of not having seen what I had seen but had had a hallucination. "

The silence came into the room after the terrible story. Cultured from the tremendous impression that it was losing valuable time, Christina was to begin again to speak first. "So you think that this aspect is part of the game, the rules?" He asked.

"Yes," said Isa. "I have not a certainty but it would be absurd to think it's just a coincidence that we all react the same way."

"Even your mother?"

"Probably. I can not say for sure why ... I do not know if the mother has ever told you but my parents died together in a car accident. It crashed into a tree. I never doubted that it had been a tragedy if I had not had this experience years later and I had not reconnected to the one I witnessed in the room of my grandfather."

"You say your mom has caused the accident?"

"That's what I think."

"But it is not strange that he killed himself? We are not important to him? "

"You are as long as we are young, but after we become instruments of which can get rid of when he wants. Which evidently did with my mother. I'm sure that if he survived he would have known me all the explanations I needed after that killed his grandfather but I am equally certain to be reached even by myself to the right conclusions. "

"And my mother had guessed everything. For this he was determined to go forward, to try to stop the mechanism was too. "

"Considering the age that was, I was beginning to experience the first signs of confusion between your dad and Fabrizio. The situation degenerated when he saw your boy and recognized him, imagine what it must have thought ... "

"Why have not you had ever told the truth."

"I could not. However, there are no more secrets for you, now, so you should have enough elements to understand that any attempt to change things is a lost cause. "

"The first idea I came up with is this," agreed Christina. "But I suspect that he relies on our own fear, no would ever dare to confront a being so powerful and we do stop at the start, but he assures us that if we believed, we could not manage to ... »

"You saw what happened to your mom. She believed and what he got? "

"She was not best placed to try to change things. As you say, we are required as long as we are young, ready to meet its energy needs by providing it with our fertility ... Mom was already used goods, to throw. "

Christina kept a few seconds of silence. Isa watched with concern, sensing that the end was coming.

"I have a chance to hit him," said Cristina. "I have what it takes to him and I may stop taking it."

"No, you do not have it!" Isa tried to dissuade her, raising his voice, while Cristina is in front of her rose and ran towards the door. "Because the only way to do it ..."

"Exactly," agreed Christina, with a light neutral but resolute eyes, and left the apartment, deaf to the call of his grandmother and begging her to stop thinking and Olga, who was shouting something about his father.

***

Shortly after being released by the Carabinieri, who fortunately had taken his data for a routine check, without detecting infringements, Roberto asked Erika to dial the number of his mother and passing the phone.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I am. No, okay, just do not know if we can be on time for lunch, I'm sorry but ... no, really, quiet. By 'to Matthias but for now it is confirmed that we go in the pool and ask pardon but I'm sure he'll understand. I just ... I put down, apologize, then I'll explain. Hello hello hello. "

He hung up, resisting the urge to cry. His nervousness was such as to make him want to scream loudly. But he had to endure, had to ask one last effort to his nerves.

Erika handed the phone to dial the number and made of Isa. "Then I will pay you the money, I'm sorry," he said, without realizing what it was misplaced. She handed him the phone and said nothing.

"Olga? Olga, it's me, Robert. Hello. Listen, it is urgent, Cristina is there? Yes? Well, tell her not to go away, to wait ten minutes I'll be right. It is very important, do not make it go away entirely, please! Thank you, Olga. Thank you. "

"Is there?" Said Erika.

"Not for much longer, I fear," confessed Bob. He had waited to call, because he realized that he was the only way to stop that, but Cristina was also the best way to put it on the run again. "We hope to make it in time."

"My God, what the situation is' snapped Erika, even on the verge of tears.

"Leave it alone Leave it to God."

***

"It's not over yet," said Matthew suddenly. He sat still in front of the book of tasks, which had already completed more than four pages, but it was a few minutes since he did not write and read. He stared at the pictures and thought.

"How?" Said Gisella, who understood, but hoped to have been wrong. She was making the meat sauce, to free the mind from unpleasant thoughts which had aroused a call from Robert.

"We still feel bad," she repeated Matthias.

"But what are you saying?" Rebuked him Isa, approaching. "It will be for a call from your dad."

"Yes."

"Darling, but he just said it will arrive late because ..."

"Something is still missing. I've seen. "

"Seen what?" Gisella even beginning to be frightened.

"He was laughing" Matthew recalled. "The boyfriend of Cristina. He laughed to prayer for the mother and definitely has something in mind. Something today. That's because the father is not. "

"Love, do not worry, okay?" But she wanted to run home of Robert and find out what the hell was going on yet.

***

Cristina parked his car on the edge of the road, slightly uphill, leading to the top of the bank. He was consumed with fear and thousands of voices in his head were standing and screaming that he would still have time to pull back, that was not written anywhere that it was up to her, that was not to prove anything to anyone.

But a voice predominated among many others and was one of Simon, whose real presence is manifested through the gold necklace around his neck that Cristina and that in the last minute he shook almost continuously. And Simon told her that he had in mind was the only solution, however painful and drastic. Moreover, major changes included major responsibilities and enormous sacrifices.

The sun was high in the sky and the temperature had reached the peak of the day, that noon of June. A good day to die , he thought cynically Cristina, who soon after felt a chill. Certainly would have found relief by the unbearable sultriness and damp that permeated the air like a heavy wet blanket and annoying.

Cristina went up to the point where the paved road gave way to gravel and paused for breath. He was an athletic girl who had walked up and would not be a problem for you under normal conditions, but it was more mentally tired than physically. While breathing heavily, let his eyes wander towards the center of the country where he was born and raised, from the little church in the square tower to the roofs of houses from which he lined up one behind the other, as old ladies in contemplation of the mystery of God

There was no one around. At that time the people took refuge in the house, ready for lunch, away from the heat unbearable. She would have been the cool walls of his kitchen, to have lunch with his family, but fate or the legacy, as he had called his grandmother, had fallen on their family as an ax murderer, and he changed everything . He found himself wondering how he could still be true the whole story: they were in 2000, fuck!

Cristina turned and glanced at the small road, from where it started, down steeply on the other side of the bank and, jutting out between two neat rows of poplars, leading up to the banks of the Po had covered many times that way, in company with his father and his mother and his grandmother Gisella was going to throw the stones into the water when she was a child walking or biking when it had become more grandicella. She would go alone, to take his own life.

How strange the world.

***

Roberto ran panting up the stairs to the door of Isa. Erika followed him a short distance, holding the railing for fear of tripping and falling. His heart was pumping a lot, knowing that they were at a turning point.

"Olga," shouted Roberto knocking violently.

After a few moments the door opened and Olga appeared before them, looked bleak. "I heard," he explained quickly. "When I put down corendo phone was off and did not hear me. I'm sorry. "

Robert sighed in despair. Without too much courtesy Olga stepped aside and entered the apartment, directly into the living room. Erika stood behind him, passing by the Ukrainian nanny with a "Permission" just mumbled.

Isa was sitting at his usual place at the same attitude in recent weeks. The only new element was glossy and swollen eyes and a sense of weariness and despair, rather than insanity. Robert wondered if you were leaving influenced by what was learned. "Where is she?"

Isa did not deign even to glance at.

"Where is she? What did he say? "He barked, while Olga had reached them, but remained on the sidelines.

"Madam, it is important," interjected Erika. Isa, hearing a new voice, he turned toward her and recognized her, the friend of her daughter when they were little girls. Remained visibly surprised and almost ran a smile. Bitter, but still a smile.

Erika stared back at him with tenderness. "It's really important, ma'am. Cristina could do something ... "

"It could not" sanctioned Isa. "He will. He wants to break the line. "

"Where is she?" Robert yelled again, putting her hands to her hair and falling on his knees. "Holy shit, where did my daughter?"

"Provided he give him" said Isa, impassive.

***

Having reached the end of the road, continuing on the riverfront, extricating itself from low branches, overgrown bushes and grass, you could walk to a grassy slope in the light coming down into the water until it disappears.

A pontoon is pushed almost to one third of the width of the bed of the river, whose waters, quell'arido in early summer, they had reached very low levels, leaving the pillars that supported the walkway covered with planks of rotten wood. The water was moving slowly, driven by a negligible current, so that both banks had accumulated a horrible, smelly yellowish-white foam, which had always been afraid to Cristina and that reminded her hairy mold of occasionally formed on the forgotten food in the fridge for too many days.

She stood in the grass, he thought that rather than throwing in those smelly foam, he would give to any regard for the Liberation of his family. But luckily for him, if I could tell, the pier offered the chance to jump directly to where the water was clean or, better, less dirty, since the Po And it certainly would have been deeper at that point, especially that would have simplified things.

Now that the decisive moment had arrived, Christina wondered if he had not underestimated the situation. He grew up under the recommendations of his grandparents and his parents, who put on alert about the dangers of the river, which seemed harmless and inviting, but potentially deadly hidden dangers, represented by the swirling of water in a few seconds would have done drown anyone. Christina had always been terrified of the kind of stories, but at that moment she began to wonder if they were not seasoned dall'allarmismo and exaggeration typical of adults who want to convey an important lesson to children. He found himself in trouble, so he came to think that it would never be able to commit suicide by drowning: indeed, he could swim and the instinct for survival that would have to remain firm and prevented from getting to the bottom. If the current, as he noted, was very impetuous and the waters were quiet, almost stagnant, would certainly be an unnecessary risk of bath and thus losing the resolve that brought her this far, on the brink of the abyss.

But his thoughts did not lasted long. A noise behind her back to reality and made her turn suddenly. Someone was approaching her and making her way, she stepped on a twig, snapping it. Cristina had just time to recognize that person and think that had to hurry or he would lose his chance, but after the first step towards the pier lost the ability to move and control their own bodies.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, with the nerves of the neck and pulled out, the effort to speak even a few words. His body was motionless facing the water, in the position of a sprinter in the full release still picture taken, but his face was bent backwards, as if drawn irresistibly by the other person.

"You should know," Daniel replied, smiling. "I came to take what is mine."

***

As had happened to Simon, Isa and dozens of women before them, Cristina watched in horror at the transformation of the world around him and the boy who stood in front. The entire environment in which it was surrounded seemed to crystallize, even more than it already seemed on a hot summer day in which did not draw a breath of wind and the sounds themselves were muffled as moisture that permeated the air. The river water ceased to flow completely into the distant mouth and stinky foam is not floated over to the shore.

Daniel was moving slowly toward Cristina. In the short time required to perform a few steps his figure suffered untold changes, destroying the young and handsome face and replacing it with that of a decrepit old and disfigured, barely recognizable as human. Cristina thought briefly metamorphosis already seen in some cartoon but there was nothing pleasant in quell'analogia. She tried to scream but he found himself incapable.

The being had been the boy you fell in love and with whom he spent many memorable times joined her and spent a tremendous smile, sharp teeth and yellow rot. A Cristina seemed to smell and felt a strong desire to vomit. But he was conscious of not having the strength to even the simplest and involuntary gesture was under the complete control of Daniel. How could he be so stupid as to let himself be lodged, when he was so close to achieving its purpose?

The boy raised his disgusting hands, showing them to Christine as they were instruments of death with which he was about to torture her, and basically it was just like that. "You could risparmiartelo" he said, with derision. "I always get what you want. And so far who has tried to stop me did not even have time to check if he achieved his goal. As your stupid mother. "

Christina looked at him, hate-filled, with another superhuman effort and spat a few provocative words. "Kill me, then! What are you waiting? "

The anthropomorphic being smiled again, with greater conviction and endless cruelty. "I do not think it's so easy. It was not for nothing, for thee I never thought of a special treatment, just to speak to the desire to suggest to your daughter one day follow in your footsteps. "

"I'll never have a daughter," whispered Christina, his face ravaged by fatigue and tension and drenched in sweat.

"We'll see, we'll see" the mocked even Daniel. He still had his hands open in front of the girl and now, back serious, leaned forward, toward his belly.

"Non .. we ... try, "she threatened Cristina vain, consuming energy unnecessarily in an attempt to retreat. He felt the touch of her long, wrinkled fingers against his shirt and shut his eyes to the horror and fear. At that point, it is hoped that it would last only as little as possible.

Cristina felt a sudden and not cold, a sensation that went from the stomach and from there spread to the whole body. The contrast with the heat that had suffered up to that time made her feel an immediate sense of nausea. Then he began to feel cut: the pain was like an explosion destined to give rise to a rapidly spreading fire and hit just below the sternum. The formed before our eyes the image of a large knife that penetrated deeply and was preparing to open it like a pig.

He began to cry and she found herself wanting to lose consciousness, fall to the ground powerless, but he knew that was not so lucky. Why was he who was directing the orchestra.

Lost in the resignation and terrified at the thought of "special treatment" that he had promised, he tried with all remaining rationality to focus his attention on the thought of his mother, who certainly, wherever he was, had spiritually close. To give strength to his thought, while his hands in front of her being proceeded with the edge that would cut open the belly, mind visualized with the necklace around his neck and squeezed even more eyelids and teeth.

And all of a sudden he saw Simon.

***

Light.

Lots of light.

A figure.

It's her.

It is made of light, part of that light. He looks at it. He smiles.

Where is she? It seems suspended. & Does not perceive. Has no body, maybe it's too light. Maybe it's dead, special treatment, but does not believe. In the distance, very far away, still feels pain. He goes on, opens it, he must take. Unfortunately we will succeed.

'I could not, Mom.' Wants to cry, but do not know if this place can do it. She is worried and disappointed, but felt calm everywhere, even inside itself. Inside and out, that there is the same thing.

'You were good' says Simon. It is pure love that emanates from his eyes. You could kill the intensity he has, would kill anyone who saw him outside of this wonderful place. In this place of light.

'Not enough. I have not stopped. '

'Almost. You're almost there. '

'But now ...'

'Perhaps not. There is still time. We can '. He smiles as it is beautiful. More young, young. Happy.

'But how? He's doing ... '

'He feeds us. He draws energy from us. '

'I do not understand, Mom. I'm scared, help me. Keep me here with you. '

'In him is part of us. There is also a part of me . '

The contours become even more blurred, the light begins to get lost in the light. He's leaving.

'No, Mom, wait. Help me. ' But it is coming back. Is coming from him.

'Do not miss the moment.' Last words barely audible, also lost in the light.

'Mamma!'

'I'm sorry that it should be you, but do not miss the moment.' And it's gone.

'Mamma!'

***

Cristina opened his eyes. Nothing had changed: Daniel, the ugly face bent to the belly, where he was having his monstrous rite, continued to martoriarle meat and soon would complete his work. The pain that resulted was something that Cristina would never have imagined even absurd, but for the unexpected and brief encounter with his mother was able to mitigate it. But he was back, blinding, debilitating, deadly.

Cristina being shifted his gaze to the hands that touched my shirt. He saw nothing, no blood and had not even an inch of exposed skin: hands clung to the horrendous cotton and did not seem to have any practical effect, however, that caused the feelings were very real, physical. What would last longer? And that moment was supposed to take? What was referring to his mother? Or it was just a creation of his mind under psychological and physical trauma to that?

But the moment came soon after. It was very short, a flash, a blink of an eye. If Simon had not warned - do not miss the moment! - would not even perceived. Instead he recognized him and was ready to exploit it.

The pressure of his hands against his stomach lost intensity. Daniel's expression changed, and the concentration with which he was devoted to a key to his survival gave way to real marvel.

He stepped back slightly as pushed by an invisible force - in him is no part of me ! - not strong enough to move it, but enough to take him by surprise. In that fleeting moment, his hands fell away from the shirt of Cristina and the landscape around them, possibly due to the temporary diversion of Daniel, came to live.

Cristina lost no time in finding himself unable to move, it flashed back with all his might in the body. For the momentum he lost his balance and fell on my ass, scratching the palms of the hands, which had tried to soften the blow. For a second I feared he had made the fatal mistake, and actually saw Daniel regain full control of themselves and point them on the scary eyes. But he was agile enough to give rise to their feet and shoulders, setting out a step along the walkway of the dock.

"NO, STOP!" Being yelled, holding out his hands, his face still more disfigured with rage.

Cristina stood out with a jolt when it was almost more than a meter at the end of the catwalk and, accompanied by screams of Daniel, fell like a dead weight in water of the Po and disappeared below the surface. He felt the cold water against the skin and the pressure of the pressure that was opposed to its sinking. He touched the sandy bottom with shoes and felt touching the skin of the arms of something solid that could not give a name. An infinite number of tiny bubbles from the bottom and climbed stroked his face.

A moment later he began to reemerge and terror came over her. She would return to the surface and would not have stood a chance. Simon gave her the opportunity to fulfill his project had somehow distracted Daniel giving her the opportunity to escape, but now all was lost. Maybe your grandmother was right: there was no way to change the destiny, the inheritance.

He began frantically waving his arms and hands with palms facing upward, from bottom to top, in the act opposite to what the instinct for survival that suggested, to remain on the bottom. At first the effort seemed too much and the attempt hopeless, but suddenly a strong current made it twirl underwater beneath the surface, sbalzandola like a piece of paper floating in the wind. When he stopped, found he had stuck his right foot on the bottom: he felt tiny twigs wrap the skin under his jeans, raised at the ankle.

As he opened his mouth into a broad smile, letting the water penetrate the lungs, his last thought was of his father and brother. He would have to wait long before they can be reviewed, perhaps, as he wished to see his mother shortly thereafter.

***

They found his body a few days later, further down the valley, surrounded by swollen and yellowish foam that Cristina was so hated.

***

Matthias had told his father that he dreamed that Simon showed him the exact place where Cristina had dived. No one would believe him, but Roberto had no doubt that the child was telling the truth. They came together at that point, one afternoon, and as they walked toward the bank of the river saw a twinkle in the grass. Matthias had dived forward, but Roberto had already guessed what she would find.

At the point where Christine had fallen, after having freed herself from Daniel, as a strong and loving hug goodbye waiting for them the gold necklace of Simona.

EPILOGUE

I know looked absently at the small photographs with closeups of Simon and Christina, both smiling on days dominated by the normality of everyday life. Life of a few weeks before, and yet so distant and different. Life when his daughter and his nephew were buried under two meters of earth and remember the world from a photograph, a name and two dates on a stone tablet. Their similarity in those images was surprising.

Olga had taken the afternoon off, or rather was forced to do so by Roberto, who had assured her he appreciated her dedication to work and above all devotion to family, especially in a tragic period as they had lived, but that it was right that we take a break. Only half a day. He would take his place and he was accompanying his mother-in-law. Too bad, the very last moment, he had built an unspecified sudden engagement and had delegated the task to his mother, Gisella.

She was lodged in the apartment of Isa, had dismissed Olga obtains the baton and tried from the very first time to make nice and make conversation with her consuocera, although he seemed ripiombata dumbness in the previous weeks. He tried to touch on topics other than those which his mind was mulling over all the time but inevitably to despair and to melt into tears at the recent loss of his niece and absurd. He could not make sense of why he had led Cristina to take his own life and, as far as I knew, not even Robert had never had any warning, the fact that it was reasonable to think that the untimely death of Simon had represented an obstacle for the poor girl insurmountable.

The truth was quite different and worse, but Robert had decided to keep to herself and take her to the grave. One day he tried to touch the topic with Isa, in private, but had obtained no attention, let alone answers, so he gave up, convinced that his mother-in-law was now more dead than there ... or that he decided to fake it, very likely, especially considering that Olga had confessed that during his last meeting with Cristina, Isa had found the word. But ultimately it made no difference.

At the end Gisella had proposed to Isa to visit the cemetery, home to their husbands and, unfortunately, their girlfriends. Finding no answers, he took the silence as consent, because the company do to Isa was proving much more difficult than he had believed and had no intention of spending the whole afternoon in silence in front of the TV. Not even the most useless bore them with unnecessary transmissions afternoon and guests, always spend time in discussions and pleasant cries, oblivious to the tragedies that could happen in the real world.

Isa was alone before the tomb of Simon and Cristina, while Gisella had gone to fill a water container for flowers. He was away for some minutes and was probably engaged in conversation with an acquaintance met the entrance. In Isa did not mind: sitting on his wheelchair, his legs wrapped in a light wool blanket despite the heat, savoring the silence and tranquility of the moment, thinking.

He felt the desire to cry, and if he did would not have been more but for sadness to anger. None of them had wanted to listen to her, as if his old age and his care were a symptom of ignorance, instead of wisdom and experience. Had gone on their way, pursuing a crazy project, definitely moved from a basic idea right, but still crazy. Both had experienced the power against which they wanted to get and Cristina had even fingered hand the consequences reserved for those who attempted the rebellion, but was not enough. She was cruel and alien to itself in thinking that if they were sought and somehow deserved, but the conviction was precisely that.

Beneath the anger he hid a strong sense of guilt. She was sure that an important role was played by his words, the weakness that had led her to tell the truth to Simon at the last moment, after resisting for years. Foolishly thought he could rely on the maturity of his daughter, but had been the decisive misstep. Simon was ready to explode dynamite and the fuse was very short and the words of Isa had been the spark that was searching for some time.

If only they had come to a solution! But Isa was sure that even the death of Christina, the interruption of the line, had defeated him . Somewhere in the world, one day a handsome young man had opened up and charmed unsuspecting girl and the nightmare would again. So what was served at the sacrifice of two young women? If only you had stopped to think of those simple concepts, instead of marching straight on their way with blinkers indignation and illusion!

A reflection dark frame appeared on the polished brass oval Simona contornava photography. Isa had the strong feeling that someone was found behind her. He had heard no step, and it could not be Gisella, who was silent a second blessing. But he did not need to guess: he knew perfectly well who had come to see.

"What do you want from me?" He asked through clenched teeth, without turning. "I've already taken everything away?"

"I have come to reward you," replied the man who identified with Francesco Isa. He recognized the voice, although he was hoarse, as abbruttita from old age. If you were turned and she looked, she would be facing a man who could prove one hundred and fifty, visibly suffering and no one could give more than a few days of life. Wrapped in his filthy robe, revealing he watched quietly and still found the strength to smile with cruelty.

"I did everything you told me 'Isa defended himself, understanding that the reward could not be anything positive. "I respected your damn rules, even those ... new. "Her voice trembled as he spoke and thought about how she had behaved in reality. On his misstep.

"Are you sure?" The provoked him.

"Certainly," agreed Isa, beginning to tremble with fear, despite the rationality suggested that he had nothing to fear, not after coming over seventy and have had experiences like those that had marked his life miserable. "That night you asked me to ..."

Twenty-two years earlier, on Tuesday evening of Valentine's Day, Fabrizio was at the house of Isa, ready for the first hot date with Simona. His girlfriend was a little late, and the stairs, he was apologizing.

"I'll subitissimo, then," Simon assured him, turning back in the room. "If you take a seat across ..."

"No thanks, I stay here, no problem" declined Fabrizio, assuming a posture of waiting with his hands in his pockets and hips slightly thrust forward. Simona holed himself in his room, while Isa returned quietly to the kitchen.

Fabrizio followed her out of the corner of the eye. When he was sure that she could no longer hear them, took away the fake smile from her lips and put her in the kitchen itself. Isa was standing with my back and pretended to be busy at the stove, but it was clearly lost in other thoughts. "He who sees" the derided Fabrizio.

"Do not hurt her 'Isa pleaded, her voice broken by tears and tension. "Do what you have, but vulnerability to suffer as little as possible. She is ... different, it's ... "

"It's your daughter," he concluded. "What you all say. But you're right about one thing, she's different ... "

"So ..." he began Isa, turned with a jerk, revived the hope that his prayers could find a case for some strange result.

"It is' shut up!" He ordered Fabrizio, wasted all his dreams in a tone that brooked no argument. "Simon is different from you and those before you. I read about her a fighting spirit that I have never found anywhere else. Could create me problems and you do not agree that this happens. "

"But I tell you all, explain what happens to those who try to ..."

"You know well the rules," said Fabrizio.

"Yes, but ..."

"For you there's a new" informed.

Isa was speechless and felt faint. He had spent years of fear and anxiety awaiting the day when her daughter would become the victim of their sad fate, and must prepare to endure further pain. Because of course, anything would tell Fabrizio, would not be pleased. And since he held the reins, he could do nothing to oppose his will.

"It does not tell anything. There needs to know the truth. Never. "

"But how ...? What I will tell you when ... "

"It's your business. Simon must not know, because it would try to stop definitely. And, as I repeat, would not be good neither for you nor for her. "

"I ... I ... "Isa gasped, looking down and shaking his head, his lower lip trembled uncontrollably.

"Now silence is coming" said Fabrizio, and starting to smile back at the entrance, ready to receive his beautiful and complete the project that evening.

"Have not I done everything you asked for?" Said Isa, the cemetery.

"Come on, think well," suggested he . The irony in his voice was the most terrifying aspect that Isa was the attitude of a madman who had nothing to lose and was ready for anything. Without scruples, if ever a being like that had occurred.

"I ..." she stammered, conscious that it was useless to continue to do the fake dumb. "It was when the thing was done, he could not ..."

"Simon would not have known anything. Never. "

"But .. You are logged in with Christine, did you see from Simona and what could ... How do I .... "

"Let's say you've tested."

"I have deceived. But I respected the rules, because at that point, Christina had already ... was already pregnant, it was all written, the truth could no longer influence ... and then I tried in every way to stop Simon, to make her understand that she could do ... "

"If you had not spoken we would not be at this point. Simon and Cristina would still be alive, I would not be here. "He paused, savoring the tears of Isa as a delicious nectar. His whole existence, or nonexistence, was dedicated to causing suffering and even then could not help but enjoy it. "You have not obeyed the rules. You killed your daughter and your granddaughter. "

"NO!" Cried Isa, angry, explosive bursting into tears, tears that kept spurgarono for weeks and the pain he felt for the loss of loved ones and anger at the absurdity of their destiny and their impotence in the face the entity that wrote it for centuries.

"Now you have what you deserve" said he, coming back in his wheelchair, his hands resting them behind. The fingers were so long that Isa heard her reach the top of the breasts.

"I have nothing to fear," responded, finding a bit 'of attitude and trying to control fear. Soon everything would be over. Forever. "Death is only a liberation."

The figure behind her stretched lips to show the last of his rotten smiles. "Who told you that you will be lucky enough to die?"

When Isa Gisella found dead in his wheelchair, his head bent forward as if he were sleeping, she gave a cry that broke the stillness of the cemetery.

That was too much.

At Isa only tried a lot of confusion, a feeling of vertigo as if they had spun in circles for hours. Then came the perception of a lack of balance, he felt like that sometimes when falling asleep, she seemed to be on the verge of falling out of bed and reacted with a jerk convulsively. How many times had scared her husband in those moments.

A moment later he realized what was happening, however absurd. Someone was carrying, carrying with him, against his will. But he was not on the shoulders of another person, nor had any other type of physical contact.

It was inside .

She was conscious of his individuality, he thought with his mind and elaborated the images that came from his eyes, which at that time they were seeing a bunch of keys on a wooden table looking family. Isa was, but he was trapped in an alien body, passive spectator of someone else's life. The brain sent an impulse to scream, but there were no nerves that could transmit the signal to the muscles.

The picture changed in front of her, leaving them items that they found matches in his memory: his guest was in the living room of the house of his daughter Simona. They were moving toward the door that went into the garage, with the tinkling of the keys that had just recovered to mark each step. They stopped just before going out and turned toward the mirror on the wall. The woman was sharing her body with Isa settled casually bangs.

It was Simon.

Isa was struck by a terrible suspicion. Fragments of memories surfaced: the cemetery, the rules, the promise of death, or rather, undead. He had given it to an end in that situation. What was still in Serbia? What did it prove?

Simon opened the door, then turned to lock it. The sudden movement of the head caused a violent nausea Isa, who wondered how he could feel the physical sensations while being thought or soul, if he wanted to call it in another way.

When they entered they found fresh in the car and it was not just a fortune, considering how hot it was outside. Simon started and appeared on the digital display time and date. It was 24:37 on 30 June 2006.

Isa had no doubts and prepared for the worst, knowing that he could not do anything: those few minutes from spectator parasite were sufficient to show her that she could share the physical sensations of his daughter, but could not in any way influence their actions and thoughts.

The car left the garage and walked up the short driveway in front of the house. Simon opened the electric gate with remote control and immise trafficking of the state, taking advantage of the red light right in front of the house, which forced the cars to slow to jump on the bandwagon. At the green, left again at a moderate speed, direct the elementary school in the center, information that Isa did not need to recover in the mind of Simon, because he knew the story well. In spite of himself.

Traveled perhaps three hundred yards before it happened. Isa perceived it as a rush of air outside the passenger compartment, similar to what one experiences driving in very windy days, when it seems that the rush of air can drift off the car. The feeling was confirmed by an event infinitely more strange: the cars the cars in front and those who were traveling in the oncoming lane lost consistency to a vanishing point, vanishing into thin air. Simona shifted his gaze out the window side, then up into the rearview mirror.

It was then that she saw him.

Fabrizio was sitting in the backseat. The was devoting one of his best smiles. He winked, and raised her eyebrows, while Simon, who jumped in fright and almost losing control of her car, she lifted a foot to press it with all his might on the brake. But hardly had time to complete his project, bringing the gaze to the road, he saw a child, an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes right in the middle of the road. He would certainly invested, would not have had time to even avoid braking sharply, would pulped, unless ...

Simon closed his eyes and suddenly swerved to the right. The wheels squeaked on the asphalt of the car and the car ended up at great speed, a speed higher than that Simon was actually traveling in the ditch that ran alongside the road. The bonnet crumpled like a toy car race when he touched the ground, and Simon was thrown violently against the windshield.

Isa shared the pain that led her daughter to death. He heard banging his head hard against the glass and break through the skin that tore and scratched in the explosion of fragments that followed, the right eye perforated and mangled by shrapnel sharp as the blade of a knife, take off the steering wheel that breath hitting her stomach and ribs breaking them, which pierced his lungs. A moment later it was all over and Isa knew that Simon was already dead, but she could still feel the blood streamed down his face and ended up on the tongue exposed, stimulating the taste buds with its sweet taste. Slowly, his awareness was also less and everything became darker. For interminable minutes he saw nothing, but continued to hear noises that came from the nearby road car engines that slowed down at the accident, the first voices of rescuers, the horns of who was in a hurry and had no idea what slow down traffic. The last voice she heard was that of Roberto, who cried and screamed the name of his wife. Then it was nothing.

But some time after Isa came to his senses. He saw light and heard the silence around him. He felt the same sensation of vertigo that had struck at the beginning of the nightmare experience. It took a few seconds to realize he was still in a body other than his. He tried to focus his attention on what he saw, to get an idea of the person who unconsciously was hosting this time, and visualized a bunch of keys on a wooden table.

Simon was preparing to leave.

THANKS

The first thought is, as usual, my wife Francesca, who, besides being the first to read many steps still fresh writing (at times preposterous as the one in the morning), had to ask myself about the fundamental objection to the plot whereby, after days and days of reflection, I added details to the novel that made him more real, more compelling, less exposed to any critical reader. I can say without doubt that it was not for her, "The Legacy" would have lost 50% of the credibility that I hope I have given him.

Thanks to my parents for giving me some clarification on the early '80s, particularly in terms of life as a nightclub. For the songs and the Predictor pregnancy test instead thank St. Google.

Thanks to Alessandra Dell'Amico, author of the trilogy "Silver Dust", for being my third eye in reading the novel and to have acted as a dam against my tendency to tell more than necessary.

Thanks also to the lawyer Alberto Murgia, emerging writer author of the novel "A Love Story", which I met on an online forum and I have clarified some legal issues related to traffic accidents. Although he is credited with helping to make the novel more real to me especially given advice without asking for fees.

Thanks to the Cultural Village of Old Viadana (MN), in particular represented by its President Dr. Federici Fabio Canova, for the support which has helped my business first with "M @ rcello" and now with 'L' inheritance. " Not everyone can count on friends like these, and my wish is to have given good reasons to grant the Association the attention, in almost ten years as an active member.

Thanks to my sister Marica for turning her hairdressing salon in a sort of family library, effectively constituting the principal point of reference for anyone interested in buying my books.

Thanks to Marina Puerari for believing in me and giving me the opportunity to get known locally with an advertising space reserved for me.

Finally, I want to thank my publisher, ZeroUnoUndici, for the firmness with which the authors believe emerging, investing in works of perfect strangers with all the risks, but thus providing a cultural service of epochal significance, contributing to the tendency to 'self-propagation scribal art of which I spoke in the preface.

The AUTHOR

Jury Livorati was born in Viadana (MN) in 1985 and lives in Cicognara (MN). Married with two children, he graduated in 2009 in Molecular Biology at the University of Parma. After about two years experience as a sales clerk in a supermarket in consumer electronics products, was recently hired by a company of disposable medical devices. Since 2000 he is an active member of the Cultural Borgo Vecchio, dedicated to providing musical. "The Legacy" is his second novel, following "M@rcello", published Boopen Publisher.

Follow the author on Facebook

