by Marco Vichi
‘It’s huge.’
‘Are you afraid of white bears?’ asked Bordelli, turning the key in the lock. As soon as he opened the door, Blisk came out, looking bigger than ever, and after sniffing Adele he rubbed his big head against her thighs.
‘He’s so sweet … Maybe he takes after you …’ she said, smoothing his fur with her hand.
They went into the house, leaving the dog on his own outside in the dark. Adele wanted to see all the rooms, and in the bedroom she looked around with a faint smile on her lips. Bordelli also showed her the tool room, the cellar and the old olive press.
‘So, what do you think? Do you like it?’
‘I don’t know if I could live here alone … It’s a bit scary …’ she said with a shudder, shrugging her shoulders. They went back into the kitchen, and Adele dropped into the armchair.
‘Would you like something to drink?’ asked Bordelli, lighting a cigarette.
‘What’ve you got that’s good?’
‘Just red wine …’
‘Then I’ll have a nice glass of red wine.’
‘Shall I light a fire?’
‘You mean for me? How chivalrous …’
‘It’ll take me a couple of minutes, princess.’
And like a medieval knight he poured the wine into two goblets, offered one to Adele and set about making a fire with great diligence. After arranging the logs and lighting the crumpled newspaper beneath them, he went and sat down beside her. Adele was truly beautiful. Three children, a lost husband and twenty years had not managed to wilt her freshness. Bordelli could still remember when she used to pass by on the streets of San Frediano, wild and fascinating, attracting everyone’s gaze.
‘So, here we are, just the two of us,’ she said, turning the glass in her hand.
As Bordelli looked at her he thought again of the butcher and Beccaroni. In his mind he kept hearing the words: Now it’s Sercambi’s turn. But he couldn’t very well make it a topic of conversation …
‘Who’s looking after the kids?’
‘My mother’s sleeping at my place tonight.’
‘What a saintly woman …’
‘I told her I was going out with a friend.’
‘Women are all liars.’
‘If she knew where I was, she would call me a tart.’
‘For so little?’
‘The night’s not over yet,’ said Adele, looking him in the eye.
Bordelli felt his face go hot, and realised that the night had yet to begin. He tossed his cigarette butt into the fire, wondering to himself whether he would have preferred Eleonora to Adele at that moment … But he had no answer. He set his goblet down on the floor and stood up. Going over to Adele, he bent down and kissed her on the mouth. It started as a faint touching of the lips, but then Adele also stood up, put a hand behind his neck and pulled him towards her … The long kiss left them both out of breath.
‘You’re a barbarian …’ Adele whispered, smiling. Then she took his hand and led him like a child into the bedroom. She didn’t turn on any lights, letting the lamp in the hallway cast a faint glow into the room. She took off her shoes and fell back on the bed. Bordelli lay down beside her.
‘There’s still time for you to change your mind,’ he whispered into her ear. They hugged each other tight, still kissing all the while. Moments later they were under the covers, naked as the day they were born …
He dreamt he was in the Beetle with his father driving and paying close attention to the road, while he, a little boy, was lying on the back seat, happy to be taken somewhere without knowing where. His father wasn’t talking, as though he had too much on his mind. All he knew was that it would be a very long journey, and this filled him with joy … He was so happy he felt like crying … In fact he started sobbing, but his father didn’t hear him and kept on driving … The road was full of bends, and he could see only the tops of the trees … Then he slowly awoke and realised that it was Adele who was crying. He felt her body shake in the bed. He embraced her affectionately and ran his hand over her cheeks wet with tears.
‘Adele …’ he whispered.
‘I’m sorry …’ she said, trying to stop crying but not succeeding.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing … I’m fine … I’ve never felt so good …’
And she embraced him in turn and smothered him with kisses. Passionate kisses, but also sweet, and also desperate. Wonderful kisses that would have left any man astounded. Then she suddenly burst into laughter, but quickly stopped and started crying again. Bordelli hugged her tight.
‘You’re going to drive me crazy,’ he said.
‘No …’
‘You’re a wounded woman – easy prey for men … And that’s what makes you dangerous. At some point you’ll realise that all you needed was to feel desired, and you’ll toss me aside like a used dishrag …’
‘What do you care? All you men want to do is add another notch to your pistol butt, and you’re happy,’ said Adele, whimpering and laughing.
‘It’s true, I am happy … I’ve been dreaming of this night for twenty years …’
‘And tomorrow you can go to the bar and tell your friends you screwed me.’
‘Absolutely. And in great detail …’
‘Me, too … I’m going to call up all my girlfriends …’
‘But you must tell them I’m twenty years old …’
‘I wouldn’t know what to do with a twenty-year-old.’
‘Thirty-five?’
‘I’ll tell them the truth … That you’re an old fogey …’
She’d stopped crying and now intertwined her legs with Bordelli’s.
‘I haven’t turned fifty-seven yet,’ said Bordelli, thinking of his birthday in two weeks’ time.
‘Kiss me …’
And it started all over again, even better, more fun than the first time. In bed with her, Bordelli felt the same lightness he had with Eleonora … But it really wasn’t the right time to be thinking of her …
Afterwards, they remained embraced, staring into the darkness and panting. Again Bordelli thought of Eleonora … Who knew what she was doing at that moment? Had she, too, just finished making love? Or was she tossing and turning in bed, thinking of someone? Maybe she was simply sleeping …
He realised she now seemed farther away, more unreachable than ever … Like some mythological figure …
‘What are you thinking about?’ Adele whispered.
‘A woman.’
He didn’t feel like lying, not at his age. Old age was revolting, but at least it had allowed him to discover how nice it was not to hide oneself.
‘Did you cheat on her by sleeping with me?’ she asked, mildly anxious.
‘We haven’t been together for a long time, but I do still think of her.’
‘She left you?’
‘It’s sort of a complicated story …’ At the moment he didn’t feel like telling it.
‘What’s she like? Pretty?’
‘I’d say so …’
‘Prettier than me? … No, don’t tell me …’
‘You’re absolutely beautiful, don’t pretend you don’t know.’
‘Don’t change the subject … How old is she?’
‘A little younger than you …’
‘Thirty-five?’
‘Younger …’
‘Thirty?’
‘Come on, let’s forget about it …’
‘Less than thirty?’ she said, almost offended.
‘Sort of … Twenty-five …’
‘I don’t believe it … What could a beautiful girl of twenty-five possibly see in a pot-bellied lug like you?’ said Adele, punching his chest.
‘Ouch … I wondered the same thing myself.’
‘So, in short, you’re still in love with her …’
‘Maybe …’
‘And what about me? Are you in love with me? … No, don’t tell me …’
‘You stopped me just in time.’
>
‘No, on second thought, I want to know … Tell me … Are you in love with me?’
‘Seeing the way things have turned out … and judging from the witnesses’ testimonies … and considering the extenuating circumstances … it would seem I am … While maintaining the option of a contingent suspension of the sentence …’
‘Well, that’s such an exciting declaration of love I might just die here and now …’
‘You have to forgive me … Words fail me in such matters …’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ she said, laughing.
‘I’d love to meet your children.’
‘Ohmygod, I wonder what time it is …’
‘I think you turned into a pumpkin a good while back,’ said Bordelli, concerned.
She turned on the light and looked at the clock. ‘It’s almost two … My mother’s going to have a fit …’
‘Why don’t you just tell her the naked truth?’
‘That’s all I need,’ said Adele, getting out of bed.
She started getting dressed in a hurry, looking for her clothes scattered about the room. Bordelli sat back and enjoyed the show. Watching a woman get dressed was almost more beautiful than watching her strip.
‘You’re not bad, you know …’
‘Silly … Come on, get dressed …’
‘Yes, sir.’
Less than a minute later he was ready, while Adele was still fussing with her stockings.
‘But did you leave your dog outside?’
‘Damn …’ said Bordelli. He went downstairs and opened the door. Blisk was lying on the threshing floor. He rose to his feet, looking offended, and waddled into the house.
‘Come on, try and understand …’ said Bordelli, following behind him. The dog drank some water and went and lay down in his corner beside the fire. He sighed rhetorically and then closed his eyes, ignoring Bordelli’s apologies.
Adele descended the stairs, trying to fix her hair a little with her hands. She had a sweet, soft look in her eye, dreamy and afraid, like that of a little girl who had just goofed up yet again.
They went out of the house and got into the Beetle. She shivered with cold, and Bordelli turned on the heat. Going down the Imprunetana, he realised that Adele’s anxiousness was starting to affect him, too … He felt guilty, the way he used to do when as a lad he would come home late at night and find his father waiting up for him.
The glow of his high beam lit up the stone walls and silvery olive boughs along the road, under a clear, remote sky.
‘So, in short, you’re in love with two women …’ said Adele, with just a touch of jealousy.
‘Let’s just say I’m a little confused.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Eleonora.’
‘Why don’t you introduce me to her? That way we could become friends and decide together what to do about you,’ said Adele, swatting him on the knee. She was trying to make light of the whole thing, but there was a note of agitation in her voice.
‘Maybe you could roll the dice for me,’ said Bordelli.
‘That would be fun …’
But her tone didn’t sound at all like fun.
‘I would win either way,’ said Bordelli, trying to recover some lightness.
Adele had folded her arms across her chest. ‘How can anyone be in love with two people at once?’
‘I don’t know … It hadn’t ever happened to me before …’
‘If you ask me, you prefer her.’
‘Adele, please … I haven’t seen her for months … Something really terrible happened …’
‘Why don’t you tell me about it?’
‘Some other time.’
‘I don’t want to suffer any more,’ said Adele, caressing his hand and forcing herself to smile. They both remained silent. Every so often they looked at each other and exchanged a smile. Neither said a word for the rest of the ride.
Bordelli pulled up outside Adele’s building, and after he turned off the engine, they kissed. Adele’s lips were soft and nervous. When they got out of the car, she already had her keys in her hand. They kissed again outside the door, more hurriedly this time.
‘When can I see you again?’ asked Bordelli, squeezing her wrist.
‘I don’t know … I’ll ring you …’ she whispered, as if afraid to wake up everyone in the building.
‘Sleep well, my little princess.’
‘I’ll do my best …’
She put her key in the lock, waved her small hand, and vanished behind the door.
Was Adele real? Had she ever existed?
For two days he did nothing but walk in the woods with his dog, tend the garden and read by the fire, trying not to wait for Adele to call. He was unable to keep from thinking of her, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten about Eleonora, who by this point was like Venus emerging from the seas, a Renaissance fresco serving as backdrop to all his thoughts.
On Friday morning he awoke with a sense of foreboding, as though something unpleasant were about to happen, though he tried to ignore it. It was probably just his mood, though he was unable to work out exactly what the problem was. Loneliness had nothing to do with it, nor the fact of living completely alone in a large house. That was actually pleasant, far more than he would ever have imagined.
He got out of bed with his back in knots, and when he opened his bedroom door, as usual he found the white bear waiting for him, tongue hanging out.
‘Why couldn’t you be a beautiful woman?’ he said, squeezing the animal’s muzzle.
Together they went downstairs to the kitchen, and Bordelli opened the front door to let him out. Blisk stopped for a moment on the threshold and turned around to look at him, sad eyed, then barked a couple of times and ran off. He’d never done this before, and at that moment Bordelli was afraid he might never come back. He went out on the threshing floor and watched him. Blisk was galloping towards the woods without turning round, and when he disappeared through the trees it was as though a light had gone out. Bordelli felt a twist in his gut, then shrugged and shook his head … As if a gluttonous beast like Blisk could ever … Where was he ever going to find soups like the ones he ate at Bordelli’s house?
He made coffee and sat down at the table to drink it, staring into the void. It was a strange day. He could feel it. All at once he realised that Eleonora and Adele resembled each other … Black hair, dark eyes, at once lunar and solar, ironic, modern, but also sweet, capable of tenderness, of throwing themselves without shame into a man’s arms …
Was he really in love with both? If they ever did force him to choose, he knew that whatever decision he made, he would stew with regret afterwards. For the moment, however, the question didn’t arise, and he wasn’t the one to resolve it, anyway. It would really have been too much of a good thing, in spite of everything. At the moment only Adele was a concrete reality; Eleonora was sort of a dream.
He finished his coffee and went out to water the garden, as every morning. But the monotony of the daily ritual was not accompanied by any inner monotony on his part. On the contrary, it always felt as if he was doing something new, perhaps because his thoughts were different each time. The days passed, his life changed … Surprises, discoveries … Confused dreams blending with equally muddled hopes … So much for the wisdom of old age … Around women he still felt like a bumbling little boy, at the mercy of the feminine elements …
The seedlings were coming up nicely, despite Botta’s doubts. Bordelli finished watering, and after stacking a good bit of firewood in one corner of the kitchen, he went for a short walk in the woods behind the house. Every so often he saw a yellow or white butterfly flutter by like a hallucination and disappear into the broom and juniper shrubs …
At one point he very nearly stepped on a viper that was sunning itself on the footpath, then followed the reptile with his gaze as it slithered slowly away over the rotten leaves. It looked harmless enough … But wasn’t it man’s own fault that he was co
ndemned to suffer? A snake, an apple, a woman … Foolish man was innocent; he’d done nothing wrong, other than being simple minded. He’d obeyed the woman and given in to her urgings. He hadn’t decided anything himself … It was always women who decided, right from the start …
He called to Blisk in a loud voice, expecting to see him appear through the shrubs. But there was no sign of the dog. He crossed paths with a game warden with a double-barrel shotgun on his shoulder, and asked him whether he’d seen a big dog that looked like a white bear. The game warden stopped and shook his head. The man was short and stout, with a deformed nose covered with little red veins, typical of inveterate drinkers.
‘I haven’t seen anyone.’
‘Thanks just the same.’
‘You’re welcome …’ said the man, taking his leave and walking slowly away.
The guy’s even got a flask of red in his jacket pocket, thought Bordelli as he ventured farther into the woods, every so often calling the dog’s name … But maybe Blisk was already back at the house, waiting for him.
Round about midday he headed back home. He hadn’t yet smoked any cigarettes, and had no intention of doing so until after lunch. Who knew whether Adele would call … He wanted to see her again, talk to her, kiss her, take her into his bed …
At the house there was no sign of Blisk, and so Bordelli went back into the woods to look for him. He started shouting his name, hands cupped round his mouth, and realised that there was a note of desperation in his cry … As if he were calling out a woman’s name …
Was it possible Blisk had simply left just like that, the same way he’d come? What kind of call had he heard? What was he looking for? Maybe he’d just strayed a little farther afield than usual, chasing a pack of boar or a stag, and would be back soon.
He called to him again, voice cracking with disappointment, hoping to see a spot of white through the underbrush … But it was pointless to keep looking for him. Blisk knew his way home. If he’d decided to leave, there must be a reason. His choice must be respected, however painful … Wasn’t that the way it was with women, too, when they left you? What point was there in trying to make them stay? It was wiser to say goodbye to them with a kiss on the forehead and wish them a happy life. But it was never so simple … In fact on most such occasions he’d reacted instinctively, swinging between bitterness and pleading, and the mere memory of it made him feel ashamed.
