***
Once outside, Fausto remembered that he arranged to meet Pepe down the pub. The place was empty, except for that drunkard Lola already trying to impress the waiter with one of his “you should’ve seen the other guy after I finished with him” stories.
Pepe showed up half an hour later. He wore a brightly coloured jacket and his shoes were the colour of dog shit. They sat in the corner.
“Are you up for a game of pool?” asked Pepe.
“No.”
“What’s up Fakie, why the long face?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Like hell it is.”
After a couple of more beers, Pepe said: ”Shall we have a chaser?”
Fausto nodded. They continued to drink in silence.
“Listen, I have a business proposition” Pepe said finally “It couldn’t be easier.”
Fausto didn’t bother replying. He knew all about Pepe’s “business propositions”. There were prison bars waiting behind every one of them. So Pepe went on to disclose his latest get-rich-quick scheme, which this time involved robbing a new shopping centre - just like Fausto suspected.
“The entire place is leaning against this one little house, you know... Some ninety year old bird lives there, deaf as a doornail, easy peasy lemon squeezy. The guy who was working on a digger when the shopping center was being built got a little carried away, drove right through her bathroom wall. This other guy I know, spent time with my brother, if you know what I mean, well it just so happened he repaired grannie’s wall, and he says all you need to do is blow and the wall’s bound to come tumbling down: hello shopping centre, we are here to rob!”
Fausto gives him a dark look. What’s there to steal from the place like that? A doughnut and a lettuce leaf?
“Aladdin’s cave, mate” It’s as if Pepe could read his mind. “Electronics, we can take our pick, televisions, mobile phones... From granny’s crapper straight into the warehouse! That’s the way to do it! My brother’s friend keeps granny sweet, brings her biscuits every night, and a glass of milk to wash them down with - in which he slips a little pill, helps her sleep... Did I mention she was deaf anyways? The only remaining problem’s the night guard, but we’ll think of something. You just get your van into granny’s yard, keep a lookout, and leave the rest to us – easy.”
The last thing Fausto wanted to do was to go robbing shopping mall with a man who dressed like a clown and his mate the jail bird, but - what choice did he have?
“When?”
“Day after tomorrow. We meet with my guy tomorrow, make everything nice and smooth, ok?”
“It’s just...”
“Say it.”
“What about the bathroom wall?”
“Nothing. We leave it as it is. As if granny’s ever going to notice any different.”
“Like fuck she won’t! She’s deaf, not blind.”
“We’ll let my mate take care of it., then. Any more questions?”
“Yes.”
“Shoot.”
“Have you ever heard of the shallow breathing, Pepe?”
“What? Shallow? What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It hasn’t.”
“Well then, my friend, I haven’t.”
By the time Fausto walked into the street, it was dark and raining. That crazy presenter got at least something right. He dragged himself towards the place he was going to have to leave sooner rather than later anyway, because “it is my daughter’s flat,” such as Sofia's mother always says. Suddenly, the rain started to pour so he ducked under a greasy spoon shelter. There was a poster half-hanging off the wall, “Conceptual Artist,” it said, and on and on it went. A gust of wind opened it up like a flag and merged the artistic statement and the cafe menu for one magic moment before the poster peeled off the wall and took a nosedive into a paddle. Fausto dared look up towards the flat: no lights! Which meant, she has decided to sleep at her mother’s.
Fantastic! Finally some peace and quiet.
He rushed to the entrance and up the stairs.
There was no key underneath the flowerpot, or the welcome mat. The door was unlocked!
What’s going on?
He pushed the door and walked in.
He spotted him straight away, standing there in the shadows, tall guy, wearing joggers, busily going through the draws.
“Fucking thief!” Fausto shouted, but this thief wasn’t that easily distracted. Caught red handed, he still took his sweet time to grab the necklace and put it into his pocket, before storming out of the room.
“Stop!” Fausto tried to catch up, but the thief was much too fast. By the time Fausto managed to slip and slide his way down the stairs, the thief was long gone. Fausto leaned against the cafe wall and fought to catch his breath, watching the streetlights flicker amongst the raindrops.
There was a stabbing pain in his chest.
The rain kept pouring down.
And then he knew it!
This was the “shallow breathing”.
It wasn't much, but in the end, that was a discovery in itself.
(Translated from Croatian by Olga Bogdan Hodgson)
Shallow Breathing Page 3
