Bad Invisible Teachers
Page 9
Chapter 8.
The door was closed again to its shoulders. Two sent of key were the last clash before a family silence brought order and rest in its head. Helen was at home, his/her house, the pleasant space that had reserved for slinking away I pour the independence.
It unthread the jacket and it threw her/it on the couch of the zone day; few footsteps and it also removed the shoes setting aside her in the first angle met of the zone night. Then it realized only that it was now already to turn on the light. The first day was consumed in the office.
Afoot naked, it trod the cold tiles of the bath directing himself/herself/itself toward the beloved tub.
The bath with the tub: only concession to the spaces that you/he/she had pretended before suiting himself/herself/themselves for his/her studio apartment. In the tub he regenerated, in the tub it faced the adversities, in the tub it celebrated his/her moments of glory; in the tub he/she loved making sex, since only it felt there him free to perform himself/herself/themselves in the wildest oralità.
It pushed at the most the mixer some heat: subsequently you/he/she would have moderated only the water.
It returned then in stay, realizing himself/herself/itself that a spy flashed on the answering machine.
While it was pressing the key to start the recording, he/she already knew that voice to wait him.
«Hi Ele, meant you that tonight we find us for an appetizer in St. Babila at eight o'clock. There are all, obviously without men: we will find of of it there best.» A choir of female laughters crowned the sentence. «We wait you, call us!»
He/she adored his/her senseless friends.
After all that obsolete instrument of answering machine was only still there for her: the Beba, his/her companion of bench from the first year of the superior, old column of the high school, stubborn activist of left in the scholastic kingdom of Our Lord. You/he/she had never lost the habit to call her/it to house and to leave messages if you/he/she had not found her, in beard to the whole further technological timeliness. It was the living test than the revolutionary ones are not anything else other than of the unaware conservatories.
Helen ran after with the memoirs innumerable evenings: with that group of friends you/he/she had shared everything. In a same evening you/they were passed by a concert to the Arcimboldis with music of Stockhausen and Maderna to a dopoteatro of masculine strip. A so ample ghost of existence frightened her/it: he didn't want but the life you/he/she dragged her/it out of his/her shelter, not that evening.
«I am sorry it, but you can live without me» it murmured among the teeth.
And while the world around her again kept silent, it directed him in room. It opened a drawer and it removed a pair of panties of it of white cotton and an undershirt, that it abandoned on the bed. It removed the pillow, the pajamas was to attend her/it there.
It started to undress himself/herself/themselves.
It unthread the skirt, allowing to slip her/it on the floor; therefore it unbuttoned the blouse, what time it opened on the bra of transparent end and on the pale abdomen.
It picked up the skirt and it raised the shirt abandoning both with respect on the bed.
The lights of the room were power on, the taxes of the window that it leaned out on the courtyard had still opened and the curtains partly you remove. Its desirable body in intimate could be easy prey of looks and judgments that Helen would have accepted, impudent. Granted only this, before fading away and to again address him in bath.
The tub he was riempiendo, exhaling vapors: already a slim mist fluttered in the environment, and the mirror started to return outlines from the evanescent contours.
But its body was still well recognizable. You observed in the reflex and with studied laying it unhooked the bra, leaving the breast free; immediately after it was the turn of the panties, that you/they perceived reticent along the skin of the sides and the thighs.
The intimate lay for earth as the bare ones of a battle. Helen remained so, naked, immovable, to observe him.
Eva, Eva! How much have loved your beauty without mystery! I contemplated, your exposed meats it is true, while I was crawling verse of you to give for ever you the shine of the youth and the beauty. But He came, irascible and vengeful, that at all to the world you/he/she would have abdicated the dominion on his/her short-lived creatures. The death and the horror of the undoing since then companions are you. And with a leaf you did foolish of your beauty.
To admire a naked body is an action of devotion. Me, modestly, in this practice I graze the holiness. And my children, as would you/they have been able to otherwise live the relationship with their beauty?
It observed his/her body change himself/herself/themselves since small, Helen the beautiful one. It discovered the pube to be covered himself/herself/themselves, his/her lips to pronounce him and the breast to fill him.
How many times, still to the averages, you/he/she had lingered in front of the mirror of the bath without the blouse and the bra. He/she snooped, looking at forehead, then on a side, then on the other, it appreciated the bend, it realized the boundless power of his/her femininity.
As to forget the day in which in bath Angel stormed.
The hands of Helen instinctively raced to cover this of which you/he/she would ever have had to be ashamed; it was the heritage of the curse of the progenitors edenici.
But Angel didn't make a fold and him fiondò to the bathroom. Helen felt the hiss of the lightning that lowered. The penis of his/her/their brother was free, even if you/he/she was not given her to see him/it.
The throw of urine rained in the water of the I unload and, despite the disturbance for that unexpected promiscuity, Helen didn't succeed in removing the eyes of back from the back of his/her/their brother.
Only then, with the tail of the eye, he deigned her/it.
«Continuous also with your mirror, you do as if I there was not. Also me if I were woman I would be lesbian.» The throw ended, the pantalonis were closed again. A vernacular clash swallowed everything. «And I would spend the whole time looking me at the breasts.»
It passed nearby her, before going out, and a kiss left on her shoulder, provocative, felon, slippery.
He/she was amazed, alone again with his/her reflex, incapable to understand and to understand him. And you/he/she had realized that its hands were not covering the breast, but you/they were caressing him/it.
As that same evening, when the mature beauty that so many men had disturbed reduced him to a private exhibition for the alone one, same actress in scene.
The hands perceived along the breast, on the side, where the skin is more sensitive. And that nipples, faithful sentinels to the cause, launched the alarm.
But the trill of the sudden telephone again fell her/it in other thoughts. It easily sent away every ambiguity, the bathrobe quickly inserted him and reached the instrument.
«Ready?»
«Hi, treasure.»
The face of the girl illuminated him.
«Mother!»
«How you are, small my?»
Which answered you/he/she would have had sense? "Well, mother, thanks." You/he/she was discounted that so pits: young and healthy, affirmed and independent, you/he/she could say only" well." But it avoided.
«You, rather. How does your turn of the world proceed?»
«Not to exaggerate! Now we have been being to Utrecht for a few days because dad is opening here a branch of his/her chain of shops.»
«Another?» You amazed Helen. «Make him my compliments. But because really to Utrecht? Amsterdam is a greater plaza.»
«Primo because to Amsterdam it would be too much banal: they are already there all, whether to also add us us? And then, my daughter, here the sport breathes him/it in the air: you know, you/he/she was born you a some Mark Van Basten.»
«Grant not to know him/it to me» he/she answered snickering. «But the city as it is?»
«Delightfully Dutch. Harmonious,
cleaning up, ancient for culture and modern for mentality. It is a kinder and more pleasant city of the capital. To Amsterdam there are so many contrasts, you sometimes perceive a fear of which here is not trace.»
Helen serenely listened to the voice so satisfied of his/her mother. It was so in peace with herself and with his/her man that would have described with as many enthusiasm any place of this earth.
«A libertine couple of ex bellocci, that gets married in a libertarian country to liberally to deal» it commented, assuming the voice in to mock his/her mother.
«And that they leave too much two impudent descendants in the most medieval country of west to decide their destiny in all autonomy. But now do tell me you: as it goes with the new job?»
End of the trip. On the suggestive views withdrawn in the words of Adele Sastri, Helen was run away away also. But it was not this the way, he/she knew him/it. To reassure, faked the same enthusiasm.
«I have started really today.»
«Already started? Fantastic! And as do you find yourself?»
Also to the best heads, it sometimes happens to slip himself/herself/themselves in questions without results. But it was his/her mother, and its thoughtful curiosity didn't deserve to be outstanding.
«I am not able he/she anchors to tell him/it mother. One alone day doesn't teach a lot yourself.»
«But an impression is enough for the one that feels like becoming enthusiastic himself/herself/themselves some. It will end as usual otherwise,: after some that you are in a place you start to complain you. I/you could return back I would tear you with the teeth the gene of the dissatisfaction that I have given you.»
«This time is not dissatisfaction. It is that. Oh, mother, is I know confused. I don't understand if I am pursuing the life that I indeed desire or if I am hiding me from a life that I don't want that I/you/he/she reach me. If only you were here...»
«It would change something? If you want next week we can be already in Milan. But could your doubts fade away with my arrival indeed?»
Helen listened to that banal truth.
«You are right, the problem is mine. It is that I feel me alone» it admitted, without shame. «Also with the men: with all the histories that I have had, never the consolation to divide the bed with someone with which I/you felt me to be sincere. To the thirty dawn I am still single. The only ones to enjoy are those crazy of it of my friends.»
«And I fear that they will have to rejoyce he/she anchors for of it very.»
«Thanks, mother.» It faked very well the offense.
«Not to misunderstand me» it hastened to collide with Adele. «I wanted only to say that the men are afraid of a woman when in her talent and beauty are melted. Or they are incredibly stupid and they don't realize, and then you would not accept them you, or you should find someone in degree to hold it makes a will you. But with the men that are around there a today's day.»
They snickered together, mother and daughter, with the same serenity of a past ever removed, of an age of toys and whims, in which everything is appetite and it doesn't exist the satisfaction. Happy Helen child scurried about, she wagged him on the Latvian, jumping, pushing, slamming his/her brother, while laughters that only the maternal enchantment succeeds in turning into something different from strident squeaking they filled the house.
«I remember to also have left you a brother, once» it said Adele.
A brother. A companion tied by a tie writing in the blood and in the dreams. A man condemned not to betray.
«There is, I don't deny him/it. It is always me very near» it started to explain. «But he/she is seen that it doesn't belong to my life anymore. I too often envy him/it: so sure of itself, of his/her choices. It seems that fortune has to know so much good its esservisi destiny simply seized and not to have to do anything else other than lasciarvisi to drag.»
«You are very more similar than you don't think, my child. The bond that unites you is deep. I would not marvel me that its destiny is able somehow to be also yours.»
The destiny. The sketch that the Old man loves to scribble I set to the unlucky his/her schiavettis. Is there something avoidable in the destiny? Is The life of each a department store during the sales only or it is possible to still find a custom tailor? And if yes, to which price?
«No. Not this time» it murmured, while in front of the eyes they lowered irriferibili abysses of darkness.
«I didn't want to frighten you. At least steal him some his/her enthusiasm, and also use him/it when it seems out place. Once crossed a door, it is useless to take around us: back he doesn't return anymore. Whatever is your choice, thrown us without doing you more questions. And not to leave never that a scientist's regrets old maid ruins your maturity.»
In that instant, Helen was observed. In front of herself, the reflex in the mirror wore that white bathrobe as the mantle of a vestal, slightly open on the breast, among the breasts and along the legs. Over the reflex, through the mirror, a curtain of a remote window of the building of forehead furtively returned to its place.
«Mother: maturity is yours. I am still young» sbruffonò, taking in loan the role from his/her/their brother. But his/her mother was well happy of it.
«Then live her/it, your youth, without regrets. Rather with some remorse, but not to leave to subdue you from anybody, men that I lead from yourself.»
«You/he/she will be done.»
«Hi small my. And he/she watches over on your brother.»
«It is all right. A kiss to dad.»
The line returned molt. His/her mother was enfeebled, as you/he/she had arrived. The nothing of sounds and people again met with his/her heart in his/her body.
An instant wandered in the room up to reach the bag. Taken the jail cell, well knowing that his/her friend's number Beba was one of the last mixtures, therefore easy to find again with few movements. After the bath, an evening with its friends what wanted us had become.
Before, however, it had to challenge his/her pretense loneliness.
There, in that illuminated room, it allowed to fall to the ground the white bathrobe.
Before extinguishing the light and to retire himself/herself/themselves with herself, pushed the look out of his/her own window, through the mirror, toward that remote uneasy curtain, which devoted an impudent thought.
"Welcome in the country of the wonder, unknown pig."