Lizzi Bizzi and the Red Witch

by Stefano Pastor

It served its purpose, because in the end it started and I reached my house. I left it running for fear of not being able to start it again, and I went to get the packages.

  First Diego, which went on my shoulder. It was too hard, difficult to carry. But it was my son, I had to treat him with respect. When I came down the stairs I was already destroyed and the worst was yet to come.

  It was a small car. I’d never put on a luggage rack. Why would I need one? In any case it would not have been smart to use it. My heart would break if I had to use strong-arm tactics, but finally I also broke him, unfortunately.

  Already there was no room and I had to take one more.

  With Guido I didn’t put in as much effort. I would not even have the strength to lift him at that point, so I dragged him down the stairs. The package was properly closed, no risk of losing pieces. I made more noise, it was inevitable, but the house continued to seem like a grave.

  I did not have much choice, I had to put him in the passenger seat.

  Then I left, forgetting the wide open door.

  It was a long journey, but it was necessary. I was beginning to see the first cars and it was already seven. Dawn was breaking. I hoped they were all still too sleepy to notice what I was carrying with me.

  In short, I left the city and then I accelerated.

  I had a well-defined goal, a place known to me for thirty years in which I had spent my youth. I was sure I would find it still there, maybe a little more deserted.

  My grandfather’s farm, it was there I went every summer, until I became an adult, then I said to hell with that too. Too bad, my grandfather was not a bad guy, but my family kept me constricted. I wanted to be free, and I met Guido.

  My grandfather had died a few years later, and the farm had been abandoned. Not that it had any importance. It was not a place to live.

  But its well was there.

  Not a real well, a sort of natural fissure, virtually endless. My grandfather had covered it with a trap door, because it was never finished within. I always said, if I fall there would be no way to save me. What better place to bury my dead?

  The problem was to find the farm, I was not sure I remembered the way.

  I moved along the valley for over an hour, making a few wrong turns. I had to ask for directions. When I reached my destination it was already nine.

  It was a debacle, the roof had collapsed. Now only the walls were left, I did not remember it was so old. It seemed impossible that anyone had lived in that place.

  I didn’t even approach the house, but was looking ahead, beyond the field, at the foot of the mountain. Although there was no longer any field, it was all barren land. I drove as far as I could, but not long in I almost destroyed the drive shaft and had to stop. I was not equipped. I had not even brought a shovel. If I couldn’t find the well I would have to improvise.

  I walked for a long time and in the end I was lucky. There was still the trap door, what was left of it. How small, seen through the eyes of an adult. It took only a stone to break the lock, it was so rusty.

  It was narrow and did not even seem very deep, maybe I had made a mistake. I prepared myself for the next major task.

  I was forced to return to the farm and there I had a stroke of luck. In the old tool shed there was still some equipment. An ancient wheelbarrow. The wheel wasn’t perfect, but it still rolled. I used it to transport the bodies.

  First Diego, he was smaller. It was horrible what I was doing. That anonymous package was my son. I had deeply loved him, I continued to love him the same way. And I was going to throw him away, like trash.

  If it were possible I would bring him back, I would even call the police if necessary, but it was too late. It had to end just here.

  I rolled up to the hole before I could change my mind, then I had to lift to make him fall in. He slipped away, but after a couple of meters he got stuck.

  I had to retrieve a branch long enough to reach him, tried to push him through. I had to find another way. I went and got Guido. With him I did not repeat the same mistake, before throwing him into the well I took off the tarp. That’s what held Diego, keeping him from plunging into the abyss.

  I pushed down Guido. As expected his fall still froze at the same point. It was easier now though. With one leg I tried to push him. I did not have any feelings of being respectful. I kicked and felt something break, then eventually he met the void. Free from any impediment, the two bodies were sucked into the abyss. I saw them disappear completely. Perhaps the well was really endless.

  Only then did I collapse. Kneeling on the edge of the pit I could cry again. No prayers, because I did not believe in anything. That was the final goodbye, I would not see him again. I lost my son.

  I thought I would be used to it. Resigned. It was already thirteen years that I had not seen him. He would have been twenty-eight, had he lived. I can imagine him already married with children. A family of his own, a good job. Free. Instead he had sixteen years before forever.

  How could I accept it?

  I stood too long in that awkward position. When I tried to get up I was dizzy, I risked ending up in that tomb.

  I closed the hatch, although there was no longer any lock to protect it. I had no idea what time it was, now it no longer mattered. I went back driving at low speed. I was too agitated, afraid to cause an accident. I made one stop at a home improvement store. I filled the car with paint cans, brushes and various tools. I was preparing for a huge job, it would not be finished until I eliminated all traces.

  Did I feel like a criminal? Not at all, I was fighting for my life. Although now there was little left to save. But it’s human nature.

  I almost got by, the atrium of the building looked deserted, but Mrs. Lepinsky was waiting for me at the door.

  Esther and her husband served as custodians, although we did not need one. I never knew if someone paid them to do it or if they elected themselves. Sometimes it was handy to have someone available for small repairs. Other times not.

  «Hold on, help me».

  Mr. and Mrs. Lepinsky had been in Italy for over thirty years. They had learned the language, but the Polish accent was hard to put down. She was not successful, the husband a little more.

  He could be intrusive, it was in his nature. I could not avoid him.

  He had a mousy face. Maybe as a child it had been nice, but it was now aged. He had to be my age, maybe a few years older. She was the only woman I knew that tinged her hair, perhaps she was convinced that those tinsels conveyed confidence. Poor thing.

  As expected she did not listen to me and took one of the paint cans. She was a strong woman, used to carrying weights.

  «We had not even noticed that she was back».

  «Last night», I said.

  «It is already down to work?».

  «There’s so much to do. It keeps me busy».

  «Yes, but… So this time she’s staying?».

  I had no intention of allowing that, I could not wait for her to go away. «For a while».

  «You want to redecorate your home? All alone?».

  I had already figured out where she was going. In fact, she continued: «For some of the work, there is my husband, don’t you think?».

  «I prefer to keep myself busy».

  «If it’s about the money, we can work something out, for us it is not a problem».

  They always had needs, I knew. In another situation I would be happy to help them, but not on this occasion.

  «I need to keep busy. To me it’s a hobby».

  She looked at me skeptically. «Really. I need a change, to do something different».

  She guessed. «The lady where you worked… is she dead?».

  I sighed. «Yesterday we did the funeral».

  «I’m sorry, really».

  She had little to regret, did not even know who she was. «I want to renovate a little at home».

  «It’s good. But remember that Anton is always available. Whatever you need».

&nbs
p; «Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind».

  «Yes, good».

  We had arrived at last. It was just the first trip, the car was still full, but I was careful not to mention it. I just wanted to get rid of her.

  It was not difficult. Since there was no hope of earnings Mrs. Lepinsky left. I waited a few minutes before going down again and tiptoed. She either hadn’t heard me or decided not to come help me.

  With two more trips I emptied the car, then I started looking for a parking space. Now that was a hopeless task.

  Noon had passed but I had no hunger. Now I had my coffee. Sooner or later I would collapse, I could not stand upright. It was imperative to eliminate that wall, however, and even the wallpaper. I had to do it by evening and take away the bricks in the night. When could I sleep?

  At that time it was no longer necessary to be quiet, but I couldn’t overdo it. Better if no one had noticed that I was dismantling an entire wall. I gave up thinking of sleep and went to work immediately.

  Tearing down the wall was not so hard, now it was half demolished. I filled three sturdy bags with the debris. More difficult was polishing the floor so it lost every trace of what was there. Then came the wallpaper. Removing it was not difficult, but then I had to fill the wall because in those conditions I could not paint it. I had already done too much.

  At about eight o’clock I lay down on the couch. I adjusted the alarm clock to midnight, before it would be dangerous to continue. Luckily no one had come to disturb me, perhaps they did not know I was back at home. There wasn’t even a phone call. Tamara was too busy squandering the money she had taken from me, she would not return any time soon. I had a few days of respite left.

  I had put my brain to rest, all day I had refused to deal with these crimes. I’d be lost in an endless loop, and would not have accomplished anything. That night exhaustion took over. I fell asleep five minutes after I lay down. A restless sleep, populated by nightmares, which fortunately dissolved without a memory.

  Then waking was terrible. Having to get up even worse. There was not one part of my body that was not sore. I had climbed Everest. Like a sleepwalker I took my dose of coffee and then another. It took more than half an hour to wake fully. Better, I had to be sure that the other inhabitants of the house were sleeping.

  I soon realized that the work would be harder than I thought. The bags were too heavy, or I had no more strength. I was forced to make them smaller, then three became eight. I could not drag them, I would have made too much noise. So one by one I put them on my shoulders and carried them down.

  Whatever words I could use to describe the night would be an understatement. I can only say that that night I really risked dying. My heart struggled to hold against the effort. It took more than an hour and was almost two when all the sacks were finally in the hall. Only then did I go to retrieve the car.

  I filled it beyond its means and as a result it was an effort to put it in motion. To get rid of the bricks I did not have to go far. Those did not need to disappear. Not even the chains were a problem. I then went to the city dump.

  I dragged the bags out of the car and made them roll into a heap. If they complained about it later, I did not care.

  It was over, maybe. Yes, there was still painting the room, but the worst was over. Or maybe it was about to begin. Because now I could no longer close my eyes and refuse to think. Now I had to find out.

  Who killed my son?

  4

  I woke up in the car. What was I doing here?

  I tried to figure out where I was. I was far from home, a couple of blocks. What had happened?

  The usual problem, find a parking space. Then I collapsed, I could not take any more. I’d fallen asleep in the car, too much effort to go home.

  I was reduced to shambles, I looked like a rag. There sun was already up, it was almost eight.

  I stopped at the bakery before returning home. Because I was starving, but also because at least I had an excuse for that morning if I met someone returning home. I exaggerated my purchases, I devoured the entire store.

  It was good, I was going to be me again soon. I felt strong again. Better, because there was still a room to paint.

  Then I went back to thinking. What would I do now? What was the next step?

  Talk to Tamara, it was obvious. Whatever happened she had to be involved. I knew. But could I ask her if she had killed her brother? I had no desire to see her, even less to go to her house. I had been there only a couple of times and it had disgusted me. Anyway, my visit would have been very strange.

  No, I did not act on impulse, but on reason. Investigate before you deal with it. But investigate where? With who?

  The first witness who came to mind was myself. Hell, I was living at home with them, how could I not see anything? I tried to remember.

  With Guido it was easy. I was in the hospital when he left. And not as a nurse. He had sent me. I had also reported him that time. That is why he ran away, I preferred to believe. To avoid being arrested. But what if he didn’t really go away? When was Guido dead, that day, or two years later? Had he gone and come back?

  There was that wall, it was the only certainty. The wallpaper was proof: the wall was built fifteen years ago. When Guido was still there. Why build the wall if not to hide something? A corpse, for example.

  But if Guido had died, had Diego been there? The wall was built two years ago when Diego was gone. Killed, I had to get used to the idea. So how was he also there in the wall? There was only one possible explanation: whoever killed Guido had also killed Diego and hid the body in the same place. He had got away with it once, why not try again?

  And where was I while this was happening? At work, of course. Alone, penniless, with two children to support. My nurse’s salary was not enough. I had already accepted the most difficult jobs, better paid ones, that forced me to stay away from home for weeks leaving my children alone.

  Yes, Diego was already great. He handled everything, he had a good head on his shoulders, never gave me problems. He knew to toe the line, even with his sister. And then there was Anna… I had to speak with Anna.

  I was lucky and went home without meeting anyone. Before I started working I phoned my friend. The one friend I had left.

  She knew my number and answered immediately, even though she was engaged in another call.

  «This one is gone too now», she said, having already heard the news.

  With her never pretended. «It’s better, I would not have wanted her to suffer longer».

  «She was not a bad woman».

  «In the end she was a vegetable. Whatever she was before was of little importance».

  «Yeah», she said. «Want me to look around to see if I can find you another job?».

  It was she who gave me the most jobs. With her contacts it was easy.

  «Can we meet?».

  It was rare that we met. Indeed, it was rare for her to leave home. She had no time, too much work, always deluged with phone calls.

  «Do you want to come here?».

  I doubted that I would be able to talk, not to her.

  She didn’t wait for an answer. «I have to go to the office to collect the mail. How about we meet halfway? Da Nanni, maybe?».

  It was perfect. «At what time?».

  «I doubt I could break free before eleven. You might have to wait».

  Even better. «All right. But do me a favor».

  «What?».

  «Leave your phone at home».

  It was perfect, I would be able to do the first coat of paint. I wasted no time and began work immediately.

  In a few hours it was done. It was not a work of art but it was enough. The second would go faster. I contemplated, satisfied with my work.

  I risked being late, I could not go out in this condition, I had to at least take a shower. I tried to set a new record, but when I left the house it was five minutes to eleven.

  I decided to take the car, but as soon as I opened the door I
was overwhelmed by the stench of death. The car was impregnated, it would not go away easily. I would have thrown up if I climbed in there. I gave up, the Nanni was not far away.

  When I arrived it was eleven-fifteen and there was no sign of Anna. I hoped I wasn’t too late. I ordered a double breakfast, there was no way to appease my hunger.

  When Anna arrived it was almost noon. She dragged a legal folder, full to bursting and probably heavy. She put in her research.

  Anna was dripping in sloppiness. She had no regard for her personal appearance. Her glasses were bottle bottoms, she had not changed them since high school, she was still wearing those horrendous tortoiseshell frames, out of fashion for a century. Even in dress she was a landslide, not because she had bad taste, but because she always wore the first garment she could grab. Her curly hair did not seem to have ever met a comb. It still jet black, but I suspected she dyed it at home, having no time to go to the hairdresser.

  Her bag occupied half of the table. She also had her cell phone. «I forgot», was the first thing she said to me, however, she was lying. As always.

  She raised her voice, because the only waiter was on the opposite side of the room and she hated to wait. «Just a pineapple juice, please».

  «Another for me», I cried, pointing to the cappuccino.

  Anna had a beautiful smile, able to erase all other defects.

  I should have been destroyed, instead I felt good. I had a purpose now. «We need to talk about Tamara».

  She did not like to talk about my daughter. Every time we did it caused an argument. On a couple of occasions it had even threatened to ruin our friendship.

  «Is this necessary?».

  «You did it again».

  She prevaricated. «I don’t know who told you this, but…».

  I was telling her, at that moment! «You gave her money again».

  «It’s not a problem for me».

  «For me it is».

  Anna was rich and I respected her for it. Especially since she started from nothing, she had worked hard all her life. She had it coming. I would have done better myself were it not for Tamara. No, the money had never been an impediment to our friendship. My daughter was.