“Yes, my child”, I replied. “Mummy has come back.”
I left behind my now useless body, and became that magnificent mare.
Then at last, we were truly free. We began to run.
December 2009
FUNERAL
Translation by Cinzia Albanese
Carolina walked forwards with a bouquet of flowers from the field, just like a bride.
But it was a funeral, and Ale tried to whistle a funeral march, with controversial results.
She stopped in front of the well and dropped one of the flowers inside.
“We are here united…” she started, but quickly lost her saying. “What do I have to say?” she asked her friends.
The well wasn’t a real one, it was only a hole. They started digging it two weeks ago, at the beginning of the holidays, when they decided to reach the centre of the Earth. They stopped after a few hours, when they found a stone of invaluable price, which the parents objected and considered it a piece of glass.
It was logical to everyone to reuse it as a tomb.
“Say what comes to mind, relax”, responded Ale.
The girl continued: “Flipper was a good friend. The best one that we had. Isn’t that right?”
Ale and Marco nodded.
“I don’t know how we will continue without him. He would follow us everywhere, he was one of us. That’s why we couldn’t…burring him was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?”
The she asked the others: “Will this be enough?”
Ale stood up, while she sat down on the floor. Ale was a bit older than the others, he was already nine years old. “Dear friends!” he started, and Caroline started to giggle. He changed his way. “Well, kids, what can we do, it’s life!”
It was exactly what his father said when he commented about the clamorous defeat of the team of the heart. “These are disasters that happen. Flipper was too guy to leave us. Who knew it would be him? I only want to say that we will never forget him. He was a real companion to all of us. We will remember how he loved to follow the ball. And how he brought it back, every time.”
“Oh yes!”, said Carolina. “It’s true! It’s true!”
Ale looked at Marco. “Did you prepare the cross?”
Marco showed it to him, two pieces of wood tied together with his name on it.
“Your turn, Marco!” said Ale, sitting down and leaving podium for him. “At the end of the day, Flipper was yours. We know how sad you are.”
Marco was the youngest one of the three, he stood up shy. He opened his mouth but words couldn’t come out. He started crying.
Carolina ran to him, grabbed his hand and taking him away, she whispered to him: “You can’t do it, can you?”
Marco looked down.
She sighed. “I didn’t know you cared for him that much. I’m sorry. You will see that Ale will understand if you don’t want to talk.”
Then she added: “I know he was yours, your dad gave him to you. But we also loved him, and we are suffering with you.”
Marco was shaking and sobbing. “I can’t…”
She hugged him and together they walked towards the well. “Don’t worry, we understand. You don’t need to talk.”
She made him sit next to Ale and she took the word. “Dear friends, we are here united to give our goodbyes to a really dear friend, Flipper.” She was radiant, she finally remembered all the words. “You are always in our hearts, Flipper, we will never forget you. In dog paradise, you are free to follow all the balls and your plate will be full of juicy bones.”
Now Marco was crying without control. Carolina knew how much her words moved him. “Good bye Flipper!”
She did a step back. “And now?” she asked Ale.
He nodded towards a pile of earth.
“Oh yes!” she remembered, and ran to get a handful.
She stood next to the well and threw it in.
Then it was Ale’s turn, and Caroline helped Marco do the same.
Marco stretched his arm, his sight blurred from the tears.
The sand falls on top of Flippers nose, which barked annoyed. Marco stood back sobbing.
The well was around a meter deep, and very tight. Flipper was very uncomfortable. For him it might have been a game letting himself get tied up by the paws, even though he wasn’t happy when they tied his nose: It looked like a muzzle. But he was getting tired now, he wanted to be freed. But everything was continuing.
“I’ll sort it out”, said Ale to Carolina. So, she went to look after Marco, who distanced himself but couldn’t stop looking at the well. Ale started pushing the dirt into the well. The mountain of ground disappeared and Flippers screams got louder and louder.
“Do you really care?” asked Carolina.
Marco was suffering so much, he loved that dog, but he didn’t want to show what a baby he was, so he kept silence.
Only continued watching Ale, finishing filling up the well. Now Flippers voice can’t be heard. Then Ale planted the cross and Carolina went to put the bouquet of flower.
Looking at the tomb she smiled. “What do you guys think, looked read didn’t it?” And she added: “We can do it again tomorrow, can’t we? Let’s do Minou’s funeral, I beg you!”
The kids smile back. Even Marco looked up, stopped crying. Yes, with Minou it will be different, maybe he would have enjoyed it too, deep down I can’t deal with that cat.
“Yes”, he said. “Minou’s funeral!”
May 2010
CRICKETS
Translation by Alfio Loreti
The bucket and the broom are waiting while I look over the window at the nothingness. The sea is out there, up ahead though I can’t see it. It’s almost midnight and outside is deep dark. There are not even street lamps to light it, the only source of light is us, our covered and heated pool.
It’s an old building, dating to the seventies but renovated on several occasions. It’s not mine, of course, I only work here. Although this is a high qualification job, swimming pool manager, at the end of the day I still feel like the cleaning man. In evenings like this, however, at 8pm while everybody finishes and goes back to their homes, I remain alone here and I feel like I’m the only owner of this strange kingdom.
In the evening, there are only the boys. They can’t train during the day, they have school, homework. Some are really cool and they will become champions one day. Yes, we’ve raised a generation of authentic promises. Some more than others.
Like Ondina, tonight she’s alone. She’s the best. In two days, she will face the most important competition of her career so far, but I’m sure it’ll be the first of a long series of successes. I imagine her already on the podium of the Olympics, within a couple of years.
She’s only sixteen, and despite being really pretty, she still doesn’t have a boyfriend because she has devoted herself to the sport. Water is her kingdom; in that liquid world she changes, she is the queen. No one can beat her.
I’ve known her forever, I saw her born, practically. I went to school with Sandro, her father, and while he spent time studying, I was accumulating sport successes. Twenty years later, however, he became the high school principal while I was here to mop the floor. I don’t complain, though, because I’m still alongside the water I’ve always loved, and that I don’t want to leave for anything in the world.
The silence that surrounds me amplifies the distant noises of the dives and the water moves. I’d love to see her while she’s training, but I can’t leave my place, although it’s almost midnight and the closing time is approaching. I don’t think that anyone else will come.
I’ll be watching the competition, when it’ll be Ondina’s turn, and I’ll support her. I will be there on my own, unfortunately, because I know her father well and I know he’s afraid of water, he can’t stand it. He has never been to any of Ondina’s competitions. This makes me angry at times.
Neither will the mother be there. She never comes. I remember her name: Nives. I will never fo
rget her. I remember it was beautiful, very beautiful. I remember that summer long time ago, when we saw her on the beach, me and Sandro. I remember how we fell in love with her, instantly. How he won her heart and I didn’t.
It didn’t last long however, as Nives is a free, restless spirit, and she can’t be held back, locked up in our small town. She was gone almost immediately, and since then her visits have become more and more occasional, eventually replaced by postcards of exotic places around the world.
Ondina could have been my daughter. If things had gone differently, she would have been so. Sometimes I really feel like I was her father. We love the sea the same way, we both feel that water is our real element. We can’t help it.
The dives have stopped, and Ondina finished her training, she will soon leave, perfectly in time. I put down the magazine when I hear her approaching.
She didn’t get dressed yet, still in her bathing suit, and she’s drying her hair. “I’m leaving soon, Bo.”
“Take your time, Ondina. I’m not in a hurry. How did it go tonight?”
“28’’07, not good”, Ondina answers automatically, rubbing the towel, then stops, uncertain. “Bo, I wanted to ask you…”
“Yes, what is it?”
“There are some crickets. Just by the pool, there are crickets.”
I am astonished. There is not much green around here, and I don’t understand where they came from.
“Don’t hurt them”, Ondina continues. “But make them stop, they are annoying, I can’t concentrate.”
“I didn’t hear anything”, I murmur. “Have you seen them?”
She shook her head. “But I heard them. They were very noisy. Very.”
I get up, look at the bucket and broom waiting for me, and asked them with a gaze to stay there and don’t move. “I’m going to have a look”, I say.
“Don’t hurt them”, Ondina insists behind me. “Just get them out.”
I go through the corridor and reach one of the two swimming pools. It’s the Olympic one, for the most experienced swimmers, fifty meters long.
The water was still, spotlights illuminate the premises as if it was daylight, there are no shadowed areas. The only noise is a flush far away. The acoustic of the premises would amplify any other sound.
“I don’t hear anything”, I say to her.
Ondina is abrupt, she almost regrets that she had told me that. “Don’t worry, it just means that they left.” Then she turns around. “I’m going to get changed.”
I automatically nod and keep looking around. For precaution, I walk around the whole pool, tending my ears. The only noise is produced by my footsteps. I also look around, everywhere. I shortly find myself at the starting point.
Ondina is already coming out from the locker room. She didn’t even take a shower, she just dressed up. “But…”
She greets me waving her fingers. “I’ll get changed at home! It’s too late!”
I yell at her: “You’ll beat them all!”
I hear her laugh. “See you tomorrow! Don’t forget to close!”
I follow her slowly, halfway through I hear the door slamming. I return to the entrance and pull the locks. Now, we are really closed. I reach my loyal helpers, bucket and broom, who did not move, committed to my orders. I pick them up and go back in the corridor.
There is not much to do, in half an hour I should finish, then finally I’ll go to sleep.
When I’m one meter away from the pool, I hear them. The crickets.
Their sound is very strong, echoed in the room, amplified by all that empty space. I put down bucket and broom and I walk forward.
Singing never stops even when I entered in the pool area, indeed, it seems even stronger, deafening. But it wasn’t unpleasant.
Yes, they were really crickets, I have no doubts, I heard them many times in the countryside. But never there.
They are small, microscopic animals, in relation to the sound they produce. The sound roared back from the walls, like an echo. The led lighted the still slightly moving water, and creates great reflexes on the ceiling. I’ll go look for them again.
The whole area around the pool is tiled, and the tiles are white, except those on the edge of the pool and the pool deck. There are no places to hide or go unnoticed.
It’s impossible to understand where the sound comes from, amplified by the thousand echoes of the room. In short, I make a second walk around the pool. The sound of the crickets is constant, they do not allow themselves to rest. I’m getting more and more puzzled.
I’m wasting time unnecessarily. After all, who cares if some cricket managed to get in there? With all the water, sooner or later they will end up falling in the pool and drown. Or they will leave from where they came from and tomorrow they won’t be there again. It’s late, I’m tired and I still must do the cleaning.
But I take it as a challenge. Where are they? Why can’t I find them? Why do they emit that incessant sound? Is it possible that they don’t get scared even when I get close to them?
I go back outside, I take my bucket and my broom and I’m going to do my job. If they end up getting tucked in my mop tough pity, I can’t waste the whole night for them.
I mop the floor from side to side, from the edge of the swimming pool to the wall. I mop the entire room, carefully, with the cricket’s sound still in background.
Minute after minute, meter after meter, the tiled floor returns to shine, and the crickets have not stopped for a single moment to sing. I observe my work, increasingly perplexed. The crickets could not be there, I would have crushed them, so they must be up on the roof. So, I look up and my eyes point at the eight spotlights distributed around the pool. Yes, it’s inevitable, they can’t be anywhere else.
The direct light produced by the spotlights prevents me from seeing clearly what’s around. Again, logic suggests me that I shouldn’t care, it tells me that I’m wasting time unnecessarily, but the curiosity is high. So, I go to the closet and take the ladder. I also take an empty food container, where I can lock them in when I’ll catch them.
Then I search for all my patience and I place the ladder under the first spotlight. I check it carefully, shielding my eyes to not be blinded by the lights. And after that all the others, one by one. No crickets, neither dead or alive.
There, on top of the stairs, after checking the last spotlight, I look puzzled around. I can’t imagine a single place where they could hide. From that height, their noise is even louder, I try to concentrate, to find out exactly where is it’s coming from.
I was quite sure it was coming from the bottom, that the noise amplifies as it ascends, just like if it was in a cone. So, I look down and there is only the pool. Water, only a lot of water and nothing else. Or not?
From where I was standing I could see something in the middle of the pool. I look puzzled but I can’t understand what is it. It seems something small, darkish.
Then I step down and walk to the edge. I try to get myself in a better position to see that thing. But from there it’s even harder to understand, water distorts the view. It could be anything, even a piece of paper laid on the bottom of the pool, I have no idea what the actual size is.
It’s ridiculous, it’s past midnight and this is an irrelevant problem. I’m no longer a kid, I’m forty years old, I shouldn’t even think of certain things. But while these thoughts cross my mind, I have already begun to undress. I softly touch the water with one hand and I can still feel it warm. I have already turned off the heating, but it will take at least an hour to cool down.
A dive never frightened me, even in the coldest winters. So, I leave my clothes organized and I get in. Inside, the water is colder than on the surface, but it gives me a pleasant boost. Suddenly my fatigue was gone and I find myself invigorated. I get off the edge and head to the center of the pool. I reach it with a few strokes.
In the middle on the pool the sound of the crickets is less deafening, softer, even sweeter. I look down. There seems to be a box
below me, a small box, but even from there the size seems distorted. I take a big breath and dive.
Underwater is different, the cricket chant has changed. It sounds like a music now, a heavenly music. Water splits it, multiplies it, adds a thousand of different shades. I would like to abandon myself to that sound, sway to that music.
I miss the air, suddenly, without any knowledge of how long I’ve been under water. I emerge in a hurry and I’m breathing in as much air as possible. I breathe and breathe again and I begin to calm down. I wonder what happened, then I tell myself that I must be stupid.
Another breath and I dive again. I try to concentrate, to fight that hypnotic sound. I swim with ease to the bottom. Now the sound is softer, syncopated, but equally pleasant. I feel that whatever it is comes from the box I’m trying to reach.
Now that I see it distinctly, I realize it’s a cage, a cage about thirty centimeters long each side. It’s made of twisted twigs handmade. I swim around it, while I’m getting more and more curious, to take a better look at it. It’s very beautiful, beautifully drafted, a masterpiece of craftsmanship. Even inside seems refined and full of strange things. Then I see a movement.
I almost finished the air in my lungs, and I have to go back up soon. So, I decide and take it with my hand. I lift it in front of my face. What I see is too crazy to accept. My hands let it loose, I let go, and the cage falls slowly on the bottom. I go back to the surface, I’m really struggling. I breathe deeply, then go to the edge of the pool. There I cling to the edge, really nervous.
My heart is pounding. Maybe I’m crazy, but inside that cage there were two crickets. And not two drowning corpses, but two perky crickets that continued to sing their serenade.
Yes, I’m crazy, no doubt.
Only when the sound starts again, I realize it had stopped when I dropped the cage. Then I turn around and I look back at that dark spot at the bottom of the pool.
That songs fascinates me, it attracts me, but above all I know that underneath it will be better, it will be even more beautiful. I try to resist it but I couldn’t. I dive, I keep going down, and I reach the cage again with a few strokes. I swim around it again. Then I grab it, I don’t even look inside and surface again.
The Prison Page 24
