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In this way you will have the certainty that any other can perform and to deliver the job before you, at least up to the expiration of the term of delivery pre-visa. Besides it is possible, that on some jobs is offered some Incentives. It verifies Here. Indice/Index L’ultima pioggia, versione in lingua originale (Italiano) L’ultima pioggia, hybrid translation in English language (waiting for editing) Scarica gratis l’audiolibro integrale (italiano, voce umana) # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # Luca Poggi L’ultima pioggia L’ultima pioggia Copyright © 2012 Zerounoundici Edizioni ISBN: 978-88-6578-135-7 In copertina: Immagine Shutterstock 1. Cominciò a piovere un dannato martedì, d’una pioggia leggera e costante. Gli alti pini della valle si imbibirono d’acqua rapidamente, ne trasudarono sbuffando nebbie di vapori e stillando goccioline dalla punta degli aghi. La valle prese lentamente a fumigare e i suoi fiati avvolsero guardinghi l’abitato. Delora era un piccolo paese disorganico, con un nucleo di fabbricati ravvicinati adibiti a negozi e abitazioni; il resto delle case era sparso nei dintorni della strada principale, per la verità l’unica, che attraversava longitudinalmente la valle. La casa di Al era leggermente più in alto delle altre; così altera, nel suo legname di faggio scuro e disuguale, vuoi per il tempo che per i tanti rattoppi, eretta a bastione d’una collina bassa e fitta di castagni, con le fronde mute che si rincorrevano a contendersi brandelli di cielo. La natura era mutevole e interessante; la prima volta che Al capitò laggiù aveva sbagliato strada a causa del maltempo, anni prima, ed era rimasto affascinato. Si era soffermato, attratto dai paesaggi e dal museo minerario. Anche quello, a suo modo, era suggestivo. Erano passati molti anni da quando c’era stato lo scandalo più risonante della regione: incauti geologi avevano girovagato per quella landa desolata decretandone l’opulenza del sottosuolo. Oro e argento. I tecnici si mantennero sul vago, non dettero indicazioni precise, non tracciarono X sulle mappe: qualcuno pensò fosse perché volevano esser loro a guadagnarci su; ma un incidente aereo pose fine alla loro vita prematuramente. Di essi rimasero solo dicerie e resoconti imprecisi. Questo non bastò, tuttavia, a scoraggiare poveracci e sognatori, che presero a sondare il fiume e scavare la terra, abbattendo alberi per innalzare le prime baracche. Dopo sei mesi di ricerche il fiume aveva reso solo ottime trote, la terra ottimi cavoli. Arrivarono altri geologi, che smentirono bellamente i precedenti colleghi; ma ormai il nucleo del paese era quasi formato. La gente, non senza traumi, abbandonò l’idea di diventare ricca; dopo un ragionevole periodo di indignazione pacata, passò alla rabbia, poi al silenzio dolente e quindi alla rassegnazione. Alcuni, quelli che continuavano a sentirsi nababbi mancati, se ne andarono per cercar fortuna altrove; ma la maggior parte rimase per continuare a campare da comuni mortali. I media non consentirono agli ormai ex cercatori di starsene in pace. Cominciarono a prenderli in giro. Ma i paesani ebbero un’idea discreta: fecero un museo celebrativo per festeggiare l’erratico destino che li aveva condotti in un posto così bello; non vi avevano trovato ricchezza, ma stare lì era comunque magnifico. Lo inaugurarono con discreta pompa, ringraziando pubblicamente Iddio perché l’oro non c’era e nessuno avrebbe deturpato quei bei luoghi che adesso chiamavano casa. Retorica un po’ becera, ma risuonò nei cuori. Anche per questo il museo fu un successo. Un sacco di gente piovve su Delora; gente che pagava per contemplare con sussiego le solite cose del minatore: padelle forellate, carrelli da miniera, tute e caschi con la tipica lucerna, picconi e pale, esplosivi e foto sbiadite. Quella stessa gente che poi, soffocato lo sbadiglio, andava a tirare ciottoli nel fiume o campeggiava sulle pendici delle dolci colline in attesa del tramonto. Il fumo di molti bivacchi serpeggiò nella timida aria serale per parecchie estati. Insomma, funzionò. I media divennero benevoli, come sempre quando s’inventa una iniziativa che vende; i turisti ricalcarono in neretto il percorso sulle loro cartine e impararono che Delora era uno dei tanti luoghi da vedere almeno una volta nella vita. Le persone del posto ebbero anche di che campare. Ma quella era un’ormai lontana e insolita parentesi, per Delora. Il vecchio paese minerario era mutato lentamente nei decenni. I discendenti di quell’epoca remota erano fortemente innestati nel mondo reale; circa la metà della forza lavoro operava part-time nelle città vicine, l’altra metà aveva un impiego che consentiva di starsene la maggior parte del tempo a casa propria. La valle del Delora era probabilmente uno dei luoghi del pianeta dove il telelavoro era più diffuso. Quando Al capitò da quelle parti era ancora un discreto giornalista e scriveva libri che qualche scriteriato arrivava addirittura a comprare. La sua era una vita di corsa; allora si disse che, se mai avesse rallentato, la valle del Delora sarebbe stato un posto buono per viverci. Non si era sbagliato. Quando pagò lo scotto di quella vita - il fallimento del matrimonio con Lori, un esaurimento che lo condusse a odiare il suo mestiere - ricordò di quel luogo incantevole e vi tornò. Aveva accumulato abbastanza soldi, stress e amarezza da sentire il bisogno di un anno sabbatico. Molti comprano una barca a vela e girovagano tra le isole dei tropici, o se ne vanno alla ricerca di sé stessi in qualche monastero buddista; lui decise di passare il suo anno a Delora. Comprò l’unica casa in vendita, un po’ lontana dal centro del paese; andava a pescare nel fiume e coltivava le sue verdure. La gente del paese lo infastidiva, voleva starsene da solo. Si limitava a praticare la chiesetta del paese la domenica, ricambiava chi lo salutava però non frequentava nessuno. Così finì per conoscere tutti, ma superficialmente. E tutti conoscevano lui. La sua misantropia non lo rese un vicino simpatico. Era molto chiacchierato e lo sapeva. A parte la chiesa, l’unico posto dove era costretto a incontrare gente era l’emporio. Era grande per un paese di circa trecento anime e molto fornito. Vendeva sementi, vanghe e accessori da orto; cibo per animali e cristiani, casalinghi e ferramenta, veleni, armi, pitture, legname da costruzione e quant’altro non avrebbe sfigurato in qualunque supermercato moderno. E c’era Ron, il proprietario; di certo la persona con cui Al aveva, per forza di cose, scambiato qualche parola in più. Idealista e arguto, l’avrebbe classificato Al; ma la propria scarsa attenzione per la gente non gli aveva mai consentito di andare oltre. E Ron, da vecchio marpione, l’aveva inquadrato bene e si limitava a una estroversa bonomìa procommerciale. Al sapeva che era capace di fare di meglio: l’aveva sentito dialogare con avventori abituali con tutt’altro scilinguagnolo. Verso di lui Ron covava un certo interesse, che non esitava talvolta a dimostrare; ma l’uomo rispettava comunque il riserbo del giovane anche se gli impediva di soddisfare la propria curiosità, e Al gliene era grato. Passarono i mesi con poche scosse. Quando l’anno sabbatico ebbe termine Al si sentì perso. Non aveva voglia di tornare al mondo da cui era fuggito, la sola idea lo disgustava. Così, fece quello che nell’occasione fa un giornalista fallito: si concesse un altro anno sabbatico con la scusa che avrebbe provato a scrivere un libro; un vero libro, non quell’immondizia di buonismo politico e di falso ideologico che gli aveva consentito di pagare i conti del divorzio. In realtà aveva sempre amato scrivere; voleva che un po’ di quell’amore, che da troppo aveva dimenticato, tornasse a fare parte della sua vita. Il bello è che il libro lo scrisse davvero; pochi mesi di impegno febbrile, poi l’invio a un editore che sapeva l’avrebbe letto con coscienza e l’avrebbe cestinato solo se non valeva. Quanto a lui, finalmente poteva dirsi in vacanza. Se il libro non fosse andato non importava; aveva fatto quel che sentiva, aveva provato. Poteva tornare nel mondo, adesso, ma non prima di godersi per la prima volta la sensazione di un riposo meritato dopo la giusta fatica. Andava a pescare tutti i giorni, coltivava l’orto in modo intensivo, camminava sulle pendici dei monti che contornavano la valle prima del sorgere del sole. Avanzava lentamente o marciava come un soldato, secondo l’umore, ascoltando il suo corpo funzionare in attesa dell’alba. Talvolta incontrava un inatteso cacciatore; lo prendeva quasi sempre di sorpresa, lui, dall’incedere furtivo, di fronte alla spocchia inossidabile dell’altro. La carabina allora roteava leggermente, con un sussulto, per poi tornare a dormicchiare sulla spalla dell’uomo infastidito. Ma il più delle volte Al non vedeva nessuno; procedeva a lunghi passi e di quando in quando faceva una sosta. Non necessariamente quando era stanco: gli piaceva osservare il paese dall’alto mentre si svegliava gradualmente. Riprese la sua vecchia passione giovanile dell’arco. Allestì il campo di tiro sul retro, aveva abbastanza terra. Si costruì un bersaglio, un grosso disco di paglia intrecciata, e prese a esercitarsi regolarmente. Stava bene. Poi giunse quel dannato martedì. Aveva cominciato a piovere alle prime luci, lentamente. La pioggia riempì scoli e canali, scrosciando fiocamente, rivolando per le strade e impolpando le campagne. Al aveva una bella scorta di cibo in casa, così decise di poltrire e restarsene tranquillo. Stava rimettendo a posto le sue cose, tutta quella variegata congerie di ricordi lasciatigli dal passato e che non aveva mai avuto il coraggio di riesaminare, tanto meno di buttare. Foto e lettere, articoli riusciti, qualche premio; c’erano gli scritti di Lori, che all’epoca del matrimonio erano suo diario personale e che poi lei gli aveva fatto recapitare tramite l’avvocato. Al aveva sempre pensato che l’avesse fatto per mostrargli che razza di mascalzone fosse stato. Per questo non li aveva ancora toccati; erano ancora lì, dentro a una scatola di cartone con sopra scritto “ALEJANDRO”. La visione del suo nome completo lo metteva a disagio, per tutti era sempre stato solo Al; Lori lo chiamava per esteso solo quando voleva rimbrottarlo per qualcosa. Era difficile orientarsi nel suo passato disordinato. Ci volle un’intera giornata; lo scopo iniziale era anche quello di buttare via un po’ di ciarpame, ma non gli riuscì molto bene. Ogni cosa, quando la prendeva in mano, gli parlava in modo incerto e ovattato; la mente girovagava per conto suo tentando di ritrovare un filo continuo tra ricordi elusivi e sconnessi. La sua permanenza a Delora sembrava aver aggrovigliato e confuso le sue memorie, gli serviva uno sforzo consapevole per riafferrare il passato. Come se ormai non gli appartenesse, non fosse più cosa sua. Continuava a rigirarsi tra le mani la scatola delle lettere di Lori senza aprirla, aspettando che gli dicesse qualcosa di più, ma non lo faceva. Eppure doveva; negli ultimi tempi lo spiava da sopra l’armadio di camera quando se ne stava a letto e lo salutava con un’occhiata gelida quando si alzava la mattina. Aveva dovuto cambiarle posto, dopo un po’, infilandola nel ripostiglio all’ingresso, ma senza risolvere gran che; quella dannata scatola sembrava responsabile di ogni flebile scricchiolio della sua casa, un simpatico villino coloniale completamente in legno. Come se l’inevitabile chiacchiera delle strutture stagionate giungesse agli angoli contrapposti del fabbricato partendo da quello sgabuzzino confusionario; da lì, dove una porzione chiara della sua anima galleggiava tra pareti di cartone. Al sapeva quand’era cominciata la cosa; scrivere quel suo libro aveva innescato un meccanismo d’introspezione dolorosa, ne era fastidiosamente consapevole. Ripescatosi dal limbo in cui aveva vagato così a lungo, adesso quando si guardava allo specchio per sbarbarsi si riconosceva; cominciava a capire chi fosse quel tipaccio che lo fissava armato di rasoio. Pensava un sacco, ben sapendo che pensare troppo fa male. Il matrimonio fallito era uno di quei dolori; senza volere, da un paio di settimane aveva preso a ripercorrerne alcuni scorci, come in un film di bassa qualità. Quel che vedeva era indistinto, e per certi versi questo era un bene; spesso non gli garbava affatto. Certamente una cosa l’aveva capita: con Lori e con sé stesso era stato superficiale. E non solo con lei; correre così tanto gli aveva impedito di soffermarsi su quel che contava veramente: la gente. Almeno, secondo Lori. Lei glielo aveva ripetuto tante volte in quegli anni, ma lui non era riuscito ad afferrare il concetto. Troppe persone contornavano la sua vita, allora, per lo più rompiscatole o sanguisughe. In sostanza, tipi da evitare; o, al più, da manipolare. Adesso che viveva da solo poteva contemplare l’essenza della cosa. La gente. Non ne aveva bisogno, in realtà. Mai avuto. Eppure, di qualcuno dei saluti timidi che riceveva in chiesa o all’emporio, o in mezzo alla strada, sentiva il calore. Era inspiegabile, per Al. Interruppe i pensieri, scosse la testa e si affacciò alla finestra. Pioveva ancora. Era buio, ormai. Prese un libro dalla sua biblioteca e sedette in poltrona. Avrebbe letto per il resto della serata, secondo una consolidata abitudine. Si addormentò in poltrona come un vecchietto. 2. Il mattino seguente lo colse in posizione scomoda con il libro ancora in mano. Guardò fuori e sbuffò al maltempo; continuava a piovere. Ric entrò nella stanza protestando con grazia; era un micio arancione veramente grosso, sempre affamato, e reclamava la sua colazione. Al non aveva mai posseduto un animale in passato, e non l’avrebbe comunque mai avuto se Ric non avesse fatto la sua comparsa davanti a casa, zoppicante e macilento, negli occhi quella dignità felina che gli uomini dovrebbero imparare; era solo una palletta di pelo tremante di freddo e paura, là sulla soglia. Se ne stava fermo senza miagolare, fissando il gigantesco umano col musetto verso l’alto, pronto a combattere o fuggire nella caligine d’una mattinata mediocre. Al era rimasto a osservarlo per qualche attimo sperando che se ne andasse; Ric l’aveva fissato di rimando ed era rimasto lì. Al si era arreso e l’aveva fatto entrare, di certo solo per qualche attimo, che poi si era fatto dannatamente lungo, trasformandosi in mesi. All’inizio non voleva dargli alcun nome; il nome di un animale o è privo di senso, o è come un’etichetta che svilisce il valore di chi lo porta. Quel micio non avrebbe potuto mai chiamarlo Pussi o Mao senza insultare il suo ferino amor proprio. Ma Ricardo era il suo secondo nome e Al l’aveva detestato anche più di Alejandro. E in quel gatto un po’ si rivedeva. Lì, alla porta, alle intemperie, in silenzio. Una vita fuori. Così, alla fine, quando si era reso conto che non poteva richiamarne l’attenzione semplicemente schiarendosi la gola, era andata per Ric. Un abbreviativo, il nome per esteso suonava ridicolo. Al gli versò un po’ di latte nella ciotola e gli fece qualche moina, poi preparò anche per sé. Amava colazioni massicce a base di cibo salato, detestava i dolci. Prese la sua medicina con un sorso di caffè. La pioggia seguitava a scendere, lenta e costante. Con gesto insofferente Al indossò l’impermeabile; non avrebbe permesso al clima squinternato di rovinargli la giornata. Amava il sole, ma camminare con la pioggia andava bene lo stesso. Fece un giro circospetto intorno alla casa dando un’occhiata alla sua verdura. Vide subito che qualcosa non andava; c’erano state delle visite notturne, probabilmente un istrice. Le patate erano per metà da buttare quell’anno, e aveva già trovato rosicchiate altre primizie. Ne aveva abbastanza; prese l’auto, un vecchio fuoristrada che non lo aveva mai tradito, e andò verso il centro. Guidò meccanicamente osservando il cielo coperto in modo uniforme; infilò di proposito un paio di pozzanghere, nell’intento di far sì che gli spruzzi dilavassero la fanghiglia su gomme e cerchioni. E poi l’effetto non era niente male. In giro non c’era nessuno; quando entrò in paese s’insinuò tra le file delle auto parcheggiate e rallentò, disturbato dalla pioggia. L’emporio apriva molto presto e aveva già tutte le luci accese; Al parcheggiò davanti ed entrò. Ron era dietro al bancone, sistemava con pazienza i nuovi articoli sugli scaffali. Guardò il giovane con la coda dell’occhio. «Al» disse. «Buongiorno Ron.» «Di nuovo quelle bestie, eh?» «Già. Non hai qualcosa? Una trappola, roba del genere…» Ron mostrò un paio di articoli piuttosto sanguinari. «Non c’è qualcosa di meno cruento?» Ron ridacchiò. «Sei il primo che me lo chiede. Se le fai fuori poi te le mangi, no?» «Mmmm» fece il giovane; ma non commentò. Era una mentalità da cacciatore, immaginò Al. Un uomo alto e allampanato entrò nell’emporio facendo tintinnare i campanellini sulla porta; ripiegò l’ombrello con grande attenzione e lo appoggiò da una parte. Aveva i capelli splendidamente bianchi. «‘Giorno a tutti» disse; la sua voce roca gli dava un tono di autorità. Al era certo che s’esercitasse allo specchio radendosi la barba. «Buongiorno sindaco» salutò Ron. Al disse lo stesso; non sapeva come si chiamasse il sindaco, da quando viveva lì lo aveva sentito sempre chiamare a quel modo. «Chi fa fuori chi?» chiese il sindaco, accennando un sorriso. «Il nostro Al, qui…» disse Ron «pare che qualche animale gli impesti l’orto. Ma non sembra intenzionato a fargli male.» «Come i Gomez, allora» disse il sindaco con una punta di acredine. I Gomez erano cinque fratelli, tutti simili tra loro, nel carattere e nell’aspetto. Ispidi, tozzi e muscolosi, dall’aria sempre imbronciata e testarda dei contadini laboriosi e pugnaci. Non avevano fama di grande intelligenza, però, né di buon cuore. Avevano ognuno numerosi figli, sputati ai padri. Abitavano in un gruppetto di case appartato, distante dal centro un paio di chilometri in direzione opposta alla casa di Al. Talvolta Al li vedeva aggirarsi nelle campagne prima dell’alba col fucile imbracciato e un maschio orgoglio dipinto sul volto; per loro quell’arma era la naturale prosecuzione del proprio organo erettile, era evidente. Vestivano sempre in mimetica. «Già» disse Ron «ho saputo di quel cervo. Mai sentito di un cervo affrontato e ucciso a coltellate?» Aveva guardato Al. Il giovane si piccò di non dargli soddisfazione; indicò dei paletti e del fil di ferro in rotoli. «Proviamo con quello» decise. Se non avesse funzionato per tenere lontano gli intrusi, quel materiale avrebbe saputo come utilizzarlo comunque. Ron continuava a guardarlo. «Non li conosco bene» disse alla fine Al. La sua risposta fece torcere la bocca al commerciante. «È questo il guaio» ammonì «una volta non era così. Il paese era più unito. Oggi per lo più ci ignoriamo. Anche i bambini. Da quando hanno istituito la scuola telematica non hanno motivo di muoversi di casa. Nessun contatto fisico con gli altri. Non esistono strutture che favoriscano la socializzazione, a Delora. Oggi non sappiamo neanche cosa aspettarci, dai nostri vicini.» Era il discorso preferito di Ron. Lo faceva spesso; le prime volte Al pensava che ce l’avesse con lui, ma con il tempo comprese che Ron parlava in generale. Desiderava davvero che vi fosse una maggiore coscienza comunitaria. La vita del mondo attuale però andava in direzione opposta. Il sindaco aveva ascoltato con attenzione, sentendosi punto sul vivo dall’ultima parte di quel discorso. «E via, Ron» disse, provando con abilità la maneggevolezza di un’ascia corta «lo sai che non ci sono fondi. Siamo poche anime quaggiù. Niente asilo per i bambini, parco giochi, circolo ricreativo. Se un anziano vuol giocare a carte è bene che accenda il computer. In rete trova tutti i compagni che vuole.» Ron sgranò gli occhi e divenne rosso come un peperone. Il sindaco si lasciò sfuggire un sorriso. «Stavo solo scherzando» assicurò. Non avrebbe potuto stuzzicare il commerciante meglio di così. Anche Al si concesse una smorfia divertita. «Hai ragione, Ron» aggiunse il sindaco «lo sappiamo tutti. È così che vanno le cose oggi. Molta gente non ci fa neanche caso.» Non avrebbe dovuto dirlo; questo solleticò ulteriormente Ron, che si esibì in un’interminabile lamentazione prendendo fiato pochissime volte. Il sindaco l’aveva detto apposta: si divertiva un sacco a far parlare Ron, che a vociar d’impeto mostrava una loquela così forbito da far pensare a un’estrazione sociale di tutt’altra pasta. Aveva fatto sempre il bottegaio, quell’uomo? Al ne ebbe abbastanza di così tante chiacchiere; pagò, raccolse la sua roba e lasciò Ron a inveire e il sindaco a gongolare malizioso. Fece un segno di saluto ai due uomini e uscì dall’emporio. Infilò gli acquisti in macchina, entrò a sua volta. La pioggia ticchettava allegramente sul largo cofano del fuoristrada. Accese il motore e andò verso casa. Pensava a Lori. Erano diversi giorni, ormai. Doveva essere la scatola delle lettere. Non era più in grado di ignorarla. Lo spiava. Al era consapevole della sua esistenza come fosse stato un topolino chiassone che rosicava le strutture della sua casa, della sua vita. Il suono di quel fruscio si diffondeva dappertutto, inudibile eppur presente; ma quella era solo una scatola. Che diamine, quante volte se l’era detto? Quando arrivò a casa lasciò il materiale nel bagagliaio e corse dentro. Ric lo accolse con felino entusiasmo. Al si accese la brocca del caffè - era un consumatore incallito - e prese la scatola di Lori. Sedette a terra e per la prima volta da che gli era stata consegnata l’aprì. Chissà come mai si aspettava un nugolo di fogli disposti alla rinfusa, invece c’era solo un grosso diario, sul tipo di quello usato dai bambini, con l’immagine di un cavallo sulla copertina. Lori aveva sempre amato i cavalli. Al sfogliò le pagine di malavoglia, senza essersi ancora deciso a leggere. L’idea generale che ne trasse fu quella di un lavoro sistematico e ordinato. La grafia era quella di Lori, piccola e rotonda, ogni pagina era scritta fitta, senza cancellature. La data stampata era abrasa, a lato Lori l’aveva riscritta a penna, così che tra due pagine consecutive non c’era necessariamente un solo giorno di scarto. «Mio Dio» mormorò Al «ho sposato una grafomane.» Ric prese a strusciarglisi sulle gambe. «Be’» disse Al, vago. Tornò indietro e cominciò a leggere dalla prima pagina. Un resoconto dettagliato della festa di matrimonio, non tanto sui fatti, quanto su come lei si era sentita. Scorse la altre quattro pagine successive. Sempre su momenti importanti della loro vita, sul modo di sentire di lei. Era romantica e contenta come Al non si ricordava. I primi tempi andava bene, allora. Lui era stato così preso dal proprio lavoro che non ne era del tutto certo. Le pagine si susseguivano saltando parecchi giorni, spesso settimane; erano abbastanza inoffensive. Al si rilassò e prese a esaminarle senza saltare una parola. Dopo un bel pacchetto di pagine e un paio d’ore di lettura gli appunti si fecero più frequenti: qualcosa non andava. La carriera di Al si stava mettendo in mezzo. No, non tanto la carriera; Al si stupì di scoprire che anche Lori la considerava importante. Era lui, Al, che non andava. Pensava solo a sé stesso, secondo quel che scriveva Lori. Niente anniversari, appuntamenti mancati; l’ansia che vi fosse un’altra donna appariva evidente dagli scritti del periodo. Al non si era mai reso conto di questo; non c’era mai stata un’altra donna, solo il lavoro. L’ennesimo caffè cominciò a borbottare sul fuoco. Al lo ignorò. Lori scriveva di getto, ora, senza punteggiatura, e quasi tutti i giorni. Citava fatti di cui Al aveva un confuso ricordo, erano stati solo a margine della sua vita; per Lori invece erano stati importanti. Davvero era stato così assente? La solitudine di Lori era palese. Lei era un ottimo medico e stava via di casa molte ore al giorno, ma Al l’aveva battuta alla grande; sembrava non aver fatto il minimo sforzo per trovare uno scorcio per loro. Molte volte Lori era andata al giornale per pranzare con lui; Al non c’era mai e se c’era non si faceva trovare: l’ora di pranzo era quella in cui lavorava meglio, con tutti i colleghi fuori dalle scatole per mangiare. Giunse al punto in cui Lori scriveva del ricovero in ospedale del padre, un vecchio autoritario che Al non aveva mai digerito del tutto. Era qualcosa di serio, Lori aveva scritto parole intrise di angoscia. Da medico, sapeva bene cosa lo aspettava: era l’inizio di una lunga degenza. Al ricordava di essere andato a trovarlo in ospedale, ma la visita non era stata del tutto gradita, all’inizio. Si erano annusati come fanno due cani, con un certo sospetto, che anche con il tempo non era mai venuto meno. S’erano girati intorno parlando del più e del meno, senza dirsi nulla, cioè. «Così, Dan, ti hanno infilato quaggiù» aveva esordito Al, cercando di sedersi senza inciampare nel trabiccolo della flebo. Dan, il suocero, aveva implicitamente tradotto: “così ti sei tolto di torno per un po’, finalmente.” «Solo qualche giorno, Alejandro. Tu come stai?» Al aveva trasalito per com’era stato chiamato e anche perché l’uomo gli aveva rubato la battuta: stava al genero, ovviamente, informarsi sulla salute dell’altro. Al aveva tradotto: “lo so che non t’importa un fico secco. Sei qui solo per non avere rogne da Lori.” Non poteva dargli torto; da che si era sposato, Dan non aveva fatto altro che mettersi in mezzo: iperprotettivo verso la figlia, rompiscatole verso di lui. E gli stava facendo visita malvolentieri, Al; giornalista com’era, con Dan gli mancavano sempre le parole. Ma l’ombra di preoccupazione sulla faccia di Dan, un uomo tutto d’un pezzo che non cedeva mai, l’aveva colpito più di mille diagnosi funeste. Ne fu scosso davvero. Mentre rifletteva in quel modo l’anziano l’aveva guardato sornione. Al aveva tradotto quel suo silenzio: “aspetto che tu mi chieda come sto, anche se ora ti farà sentire un cretino.” «Come stai tu, piuttosto» fece Al, remissivo. Dan, a torto o a ragione, aveva tradotto: “ti accontento subito, so che ti va troppo male per impuntarmi d’orgoglio.” «Dimmelo tu» fece allora Dan, corrucciando la fronte. Al aveva tradotto: “Lo so che ne sai più di me, Lori è un medico e avrà parlato con te. Vediamo se hai i testicoli per spiattellarmi quello che mia figlia non vuole farmi sapere.” «Temo di saperne quanto te» aveva detto Al, assumendo un’espressione stupita; sapeva bene che l’altro avrebbe tradotto: “ammetto di non avere testicoli.” E infatti Dan aveva sorriso, ma con sfumatura mesta: doveva essere stato angustiato davvero. Di solito quel tipo di giochino andava avanti per parecchio e lui, che in genere la spuntava, adesso aveva perso mordente. Al aveva sentito il bisogno di concedergli di più. «Lori ha poca voglia di parlarne» aveva aggiunto «è preoccupata. Ma non troppo.» Dan non se lo aspettava, l’Al che conosceva non avrebbe portato avanti la sceneggiata: mentito avrebbe mentito, ma il meno possibile. Questa sembrava quasi la verità. E fu così che i due uomini avevano cominciato a parlare davvero, forse per la prima volta; chiacchierarono di Lori, per lo più, e piacevolmente. Senza bisogno di strane traduzioni. «Torna a trovarmi presto» aveva esclamato Dan alla fine. «Lo farò» aveva promesso Al. Non mantenne mai la promessa. Venne un periodo di intenso lavoro, per Al. Una sera, e questo episodio lui lo ricordava bene, era l’anniversario del loro matrimonio. Lori aveva lasciato il padre alle attenzioni di altri medici per cercare Al: dopo avere tentato di gestire per ore quel malato ormai terminale, e ciononostante ancora iroso e intrattabile, voleva che la serata avesse qualcosa di buono. Era tornata a casa; era così frastornata che non ricordava gli impegni del marito. Qualcosa di irrazionale le aveva fatto pensare di trovarlo lì, pronto a sostenerla. Al era lontano e non si era fatto rintracciare per un pezzo. Lori aveva vissuto quei momenti con ansia crescente. Quando finalmente Al aveva risposto alle chiamate l’aveva liquidata con pochissime parole, senza ascoltarla: era fuori, c’era un lavoro da finire, scadenze importanti, non aveva tempo da concedere a chiacchiere romantiche. Sul diario di Lori quel dialogo era scritto come fosse parte di un brogliaccio di narrativa, con tutti i segni di interpunzione al loro posto. Al lesse agghiacciando un tantino: si sentiva inchiodato al muro da quelle righe accurate, come una farfalla da un collezionista. «Al…» aveva detto Lori, con voce piccola piccola. «Non si sente gran che» fu la risposta di Al «cambia posizione, dove sono la rete va e viene.» Aveva buttato giù subito. Lori aveva richiamato pochi minuti dopo. La voce era sempre la stessa. Al aveva sospirato dall’insofferenza. «Non va ancora, Lori.» «Al?» «Eh? Mi senti, allora.» «Sì.» «Lo so. È l’anniversario e io sono fuori. Abbiamo fatto il discorso molte volte. Ci rifaremo.» «Al, papà…» «So anche questo. Mi dà addosso: sciupo la sua bambina; dovrei stare con lei invece di andarmene in giro. Ma io lavoro, Lori. Ti spiace se ne riparliamo? Ho un sacco da fare.» «N-no.» «Brava.» Al aveva riattaccato. Lei era precipitata nello sconforto; si era seduta sul letto ed era rimasta con il mento sui gomiti per parecchio tempo. Poi aveva cercato di nuovo il marito, ma stavolta il suo cellulare era spento. Ripeté il tentativo dieci minuti dopo, con lo stesso risultato. Tornò ad appoggiare il mento sui gomiti. Il diario non citava alcun pensiero di Lori, non veniva commentata la cosa: lei era rimasta semplicemente lì lasciando che la mente corresse per conto proprio. Alla fine era tornata in ospedale; il padre era peggiorato, non era più cosciente e respirava con l’ausilio delle macchine. Sarebbe morto di lì a due ore senza svegliarsi. Lì, in poche frasi, Lori esprimeva forte il cruccio di non aver potuto parlargli; mentre il padre scivolava nell’oblio lei cercava il conforto del marito che non c’era. Al imprecò a bassa voce. Ricordava che per tutta la giornata era stato impegnato a organizzare una intervista importante. Il cellulare era stato quasi sempre spento, tranne quando Lori l’aveva chiamato. Lui non aveva capito nulla di quel che lei gli aveva detto. Al lesse i commenti di Lori; lei ne aveva sofferto parecchio e certo a seguire doveva aver dimostrato questa pena a parole e contegno, ma lui non si era accorto di nulla. Lei aveva subìto la sua impassibilità con un ammacco ancor più dolente, che trapelava anche dalle pagine successive. Eppure lei non gli aveva mai rinfacciato nulla, neanche quando il divorzio parve inevitabile e l’amarezza della donna trapelava persino dai gesti. Lori aveva continuato a scrivere ogni giorno; Al seguitò a leggere quelle righe, a lungo, scuotendo la testa per la propria evidente inadeguatezza come marito e come uomo. Al inspirò forte e chiuse il diario con fermezza. Andò a spegnere sotto alla macchinetta del caffè, che ormai si lamentava come un moribondo. «Non credevo di uscirne così malconcio» disse Al, carezzando Ric, che lo seguiva come un cagnolino. Bevve una tazza fumante, poi riprese la lettura. Quella sera, prima di dormire, si lavò i denti guardandosi allo specchio. Si sciacquò la bocca. Scosse la testa a quel tizio dall’espressione sdegnata e l’aria colpevole. «Sei stato un discreto stronzo» disse. Ora poteva andare a letto. 3. La mattina dopo, naturalmente, pioveva. L’aveva fatto per tutta la notte, colpendo forte il tetto in legno della casa di Al; lui ne era stato cosciente, tra veglia e sonno. A tratti la pioggia battente aveva spazzato le finestre, risuonando argentina con grazia sfrontata. Al si svegliò di soprassalto, la mente ancora intrisa dei fumi residui di sogni che non cercò di riafferrare. Dalle tende della finestra filtrava la luce dell’alba, fioca ed esitante tra cumuli di nubi in movimento. L’uomo si alzò con decisione, versò il cibo a Ric, prese la sua medicina e si vestì rapidamente. Gliel’avrebbe fatta vedere lui, al maltempo. Prese due fette di pane, un po’ di prosciutto e una bottiglietta d’acqua, infilò tutto nello zaino e si preparò a uscire. La pioggia scendeva ancora, incessante ma non forte. Non gli interessava, comunque. Era stato a poltrire abbastanza; da quando aveva cominciato a fare lunghe camminate quell’attività fisica era diventata una droga: la pretendevano i suoi muscoli e la sua mente. Uscì e chiuse bene la porta, lasciando il gatto in casa. Non aveva ombrello, ma l’impermeabile funzionava egregiamente; si calcò bene il cappuccio legandoselo al collo e si avviò rapidamente verso il centro della valle, secondo un percorso che aveva fatto molte volte. Avrebbe potuto seguirlo a occhi chiusi. La valle del Delora aveva una forma quasi a otto. In uno dei lobi si trovava lui; il Delora attraversava nel centro dell’otto, ma non longitudinalmente: lo faceva segando l’otto in due, quasi intendesse separare le due pance tondeggianti coronate di alti colli. Al centro, proprio dove scorreva il fiume, c’era una strozzatura tra le montagne che riduceva la valle a uno stretto canalone leggermente rialzato; per passare da una pancia all’altra occorreva traversare un ponte in acciaio. Vista dall’alto l’area aveva un aspetto unico; la strada e il fiume erano perpendicolari fra loro, come una croce che spartiva in quarti quasi uguali la vallata. A nord, oltre la corona di monti, c’erano tra i quattro e i cinque chilometri di pianura, poi una catena montuosa di grande estensione portava il terreno a salire ancora; lì la strada s’inerpicava tra i picchi, per poi scendere di nuovo oltre e raggiungere la città più vicina, a circa trentacinque chilometri da Delora. A sud, invece, non c’era altro che un’amplissima spianata verdeggiante, ornata qua e là di boschi d’alberi scuri e fitti; si poteva incontrare un centro abitato pur di proseguire per altri settanta chilometri buoni. Al s’incamminò speditamente; avrebbe raggiunto un estremo della valle, allontanandosi dal fiume. Procedette in salita, seguendo una vecchia mulattiera ormai in disuso. Era l’unico tracciato che lo conducesse in sicurezza tra i boschi permettendogli di sapere dove si trovava anche tra le brume del primo mattino. Fece un largo giro lottando con la pioggia che ora veniva giù alla grande; con il tempo buono avrebbe goduto di una bella vista, ma così si accontentò di sentire il proprio corpo lavorare respirando con ritmo armonico e costante. Trascorse un’ora circa senza fermarsi. Il pensiero di Lori andava e veniva. Le aveva fatto male, è vero, al di là di quel che diceva il diario. Però, in fondo, non era stato proprio una carogna; molte colpe che la donna gli imputava non derivavano dal suo egocentrismo, ma dalla malattia; una nuova compagna, elusiva e pretenziosa. Era arrivata all’improvviso quando Al, senza particolare gioia, era giunto all’apice della sua carriera giornalistica. Cominciavano a invitarlo a manifestazioni e cerimonie, ormai era abbastanza conosciuto; un giorno anonimo a un meeting noiosissimo, seduto in buon ordine all’ascolto di un collega attempato, era arrivato improvviso il primo devastante attacco. Al divenne istantaneamente consapevole del proprio battito cardiaco, del sangue che a ondate correva nel suo corpo. E se si fosse fermato? O al contrario, se quel pulsare, già amplificato, fosse cresciuto e cresciuto ancora, fino a farlo scoppiare? L’idea, assurda, si fece strada nella sua mente. Fu come se una cappa scura lo avvolgesse, sentì la punta di ogni nervo reagire, quasi friggere dalla tensione, mentre le sue gambe furono come tagliate dal corpo, quasi inerti, utili solo a ciondolargli i piedi come se non gli appartenessero. Attese la morte… che non venne. Durò solo pochi secondi, ma la fronte gli s’imperlò di sudore e in un attimo le forze lo abbandonarono. Non si sentiva in grado di tenersi in piedi, ma quando poco dopo il discorso ebbe termine si alzò e applaudì con gli altri. Tacque quell’evento, lo rimosse dai suoi stessi pensieri. Un’anomalia, un accidente irripetibile come una nevicata d’agosto, così lo volle classificare. Finché non capitò di nuovo, in più occasioni, e del tutto imprevedibili. Come poteva vedere la cosa? Era diventato un problema e lo sapeva. Ma non avrebbe fatto niente. Succedeva, tutto qui. Pochi secondi di grande sofferenza, dopodiché si sentiva fisicamente ed emotivamente da buttare. Ma poteva nasconderlo. Nel momento dell’attacco Al irrigidiva il volto, stringeva i denti per non emettere alcun suono, poi rimaneva leggermente stordito; poteva incespicare, a quel punto, però un piccolo infortunio si può attribuire anche ad altro. Al divenne molto abile a fingere; con Lori fu addirittura diabolico. Era un medico sua moglie, doveva essere bravo. Scuse infinite; lei le percepiva come tali, annaspava nel dubbio ma almeno restava lontanissima dalla verità. Poi venne il giorno dell’incidente d’auto. Al non riusciva più ad andare in ufficio, quella mattina. L’idea di allontanarsi da casa, di imboccare l’autostrada per fare una mezza dozzina di chilometri lo atterriva. Eppure doveva reagire. Con i sensi appannati dal panico infilò il casello per pura fortuna, poi gli occhi gli si offuscarono e piantò la macchina nel guardrail. Lo portarono in ospedale, meno male non quello di Lori; non era una cosa seria, ma nel deliquio le sue difese erano abbassate e quei medici erano in gamba. Lo passarono dal pronto soccorso a psichiatria. Domande su domande. Spossato, ammise. Fu l’inizio di una cura suo malgrado: il dottore non avrebbe avvisato la moglie, ma lui promise di farsi seguire da un professionista. Dovette mantenere la parola per forza: il medico lo teneva d’occhio. Al rabbrividì, ricordando quanto difficile fu per lui accettare quell’aiuto. I muscoli ora cominciavano a protestare; preso da ricordi infausti aveva istintivamente reagito aumentando l’andatura. Rallentò, concentrandosi intensamente sul respiro; si stava stancando più del solito, doveva essere colpa di quel dannato terreno sdrucciolevole. Per fortuna era piuttosto in forma. Già, l’attività fisica. Quella era stata una scoperta. Il suo psichiatra era un fanatico di body building. Mai avuto un medico personale dai pettorali giganteschi? Turbava un po’ quella vista. Gliene avevano parlato benissimo, però. Al primo incontro, nella sala d’attesa, aveva avuto voglia di scappare tant’erano strane le facce dei suoi assistiti. C’erano davvero dei malati di mente in quella saletta. Ma, quanto al corpo, erano tutti dannatamente in forma. Si era sentito ridicolo in mezzo a loro. L’unico scricciolo. Poi aveva conosciuto il dottore e la sua terapia: chimica e attività fisica. «Così, devo proprio scegliere uno sport?» aveva detto Al. Il medico l’aveva scrutato ballonzolando inconsciamente i bicipiti. «Certo. È importante quanto l’aiuto farmacologico. Mi creda. Attività all’aperto. Allora?» Attendeva una risposta; Al aveva sempre disprezzato i palestrati. All’aperto, eh? C’era la sua vecchia passione. «Direi che… sono un arciere.» Si sentì ridicolo mentre lo diceva. Il medico aveva scosso la testa e tutto il fascio di muscoli connesso. «Non va. Quello non è un vero sport. Non…» «Se la batto a braccio di ferro me lo dà per buono?» Battito di palpebre sotto sopracciglia foltissime. Poi, un sorriso denigratorio. «Se non vuole fare pesistica o attività di squadra, si dedichi alla corsa.» «Me lo dà per buono o no?» Altro sorriso. «D’accordo.» Al aveva vinto in dieci secondi: tendere la corda del suo arco gli aveva reso la muscolatura del braccio destro dura come la pietra. Il medico se n’era stato con la spalla dolente per un po’ parlando ancora delle cure; poi l’uomo non aveva potuto evitare di cambiare espressione fissando Al con agonismo. «Due su tre?» «Va bene.» Quel giorno il povero psichiatra aveva rischiato una brutta lussazione. Non più obbligato a scegliere, Al s’era rilassato ed era divenuto accomodante. Così aveva deciso di dedicarsi alla corsa. E fu una rivelazione. Non l’avrebbe mai detto, ma faceva davvero per lui. Questa cosa Lori non la capì e Al non raccontò tutta la storia; lei sapeva soltanto che di punto in bianco Al aveva iniziato a correre, a tutte le ore, sacrificando anche il preziosissimo lavoro. Cosa che lui non aveva mai fatto… per starsene con lei, ad esempio. Distratto dalle sue elucubrazioni, rallentò per rendersi meglio conto di dove si trovasse; la pioggia rendeva più complesso orientarsi. Riconobbe il posto dagli alberi vicini, due enormi platani gemelli. Proseguì. Il primo segno che stava per giungere alla meta furono i pali del telefono; percorrevano la valle parallelamente alla strada e con essa presero a inerpicarsi, gradualmente, man mano che si avvicinavano alla barriera delle montagne. Allora strada e pali si separavano: la strada serpeggiava pigramente, i pali seguivano la traiettoria ripida e dritta che conduceva alle creste del lato nord. I contrafforti sporgenti cominciarono a intravedersi tra le nebbie; Al si concesse la prima sosta e sbocconcellò il panino con appetito. Non sedette: ovunque c’erano rivoli di torrentelli improvvisati che scendevano dalle cime, la pioggia aveva cosparso tutto di un velo di umidità appiccicosa. Quando ebbe finito riprese la marcia dirigendosi verso la strada asfaltata; era a circa trecento metri dal passo quando s’avvide che qualcosa non andava: i pali del telefono erano abbattuti e la strada pareva mozzata. Tra le spire di nebbia, indovinò che il passo era crollato; era l’unica zona sgombra d’alberi e le rocce dell’area non sembravano così stabili. Colpa dell’uomo e della sua furia disboscatrice, come al solito. La pioggia insistente aveva saturato le falde, gonfiando la terra che, non più trattenuta, aveva trascinato tutto con sé. Un refolo di vento asportò le nebbie per un tempo sufficiente a mostrare i dettagli della frana. La montagna s’era come inginocchiata; si vedevano massi notevoli rotolati per centinaia di metri e uno smottamento generalizzato che aveva lasciato la catena montuosa come una bocca sdentata: una valanga di terreno impolpato d’acqua aveva trascinato e rovesciato il tratto culminante della strada, portando ogni cosa molto più in basso, falcidiando i pochi alberi del versante. I pali del telefono apparivano come disordinati dardi sulla schiena di un enorme paziente in una sessione di agopuntura. Non avrebbero usato il telefono per un pezzo, gli abitanti della valle. Al decise di tornare indietro, forse nessun altro sapeva. Avrebbe potuto avvertire con il cellulare, ma nella zona per i cellulari non c’era linea. Erano isolati. Al accelerò; se qualcuno percorreva la strada in macchina, inconsapevole, avrebbe corso dei rischi. La montagna era ancora instabile e molti massi ingombravano l’asfalto: ci si poteva imbattere nelle rocce prima ancora di vedere la frana. Provò a trotterellare un po’, ma rischiò di scivolare un paio di volte e rallentò. S’inerpicò sul tratto finale della mulattiera percorrendo l’ultima curva ascendente; da lì la strada diventava più facile e sicura per il ritorno, a patto di non cadere in mezzo al fango. La luce del giorno penetrava tra le nubi, ma la pioggia era comunque costante, anche se ora scendeva a ritmo blando. Al si fermò, prendendo fiato. Da quella posizione udì qualcosa che non aveva notato all’andata. C’era un suono che echeggiava sulle pendici, portato dal vento sino a lui; come di una cascata. Era il fiume. Al lo intravide dall’alto, ora che guardava nella direzione giusta. Il Delora, compreso tra i Picchi del Lupo, i due bastioni che stringevano la valle, scorreva furioso e marrone tra le sponde inerbate. Gli argini erano forti, ma l’acqua minacciava di esondare. Una piena così non compariva negli annali del paese. Il ponte che scavalcava il fiume, l’unica via rimasta per entrare e uscire dalla valle, era schiaffeggiato dall’acqua nei punti di attacco alla terraferma. Ora Al era davvero preoccupato. Scese rapidamente percorrendo il sentiero quasi invisibile e infilando una bella sequela di pozzanghere; scivolava in maniera controllata, usando la fanghiglia molle di fosse e cavità acquitrinose per rallentare. I grossi stivali lottavano tra lo sciabordio delle mote. Il cappuccio si rovesciò ma Al lasciò fare. Era inzuppato, ormai. Per arrivare a casa impiegò un tempo che gli parve interminabile. Non si curò di rassettarsi, prese le chiavi della macchina e corse all’emporio. Ron si alzava sempre presto e avrebbe saputo cosa fare. Dopo non molto le campane del paese presero a suonare senza sosta. 4. La chiesa si stava riempiendo; il suono incessante delle campane in giorno feriale aveva prima incuriosito, poi preoccupato tutti quanti. Gli ultimi paesani stavano entrando, anche chi non frequentava le funzioni religiose era presente e si guardava in giro leggermente a disagio. Il sindaco era vicino all’altare; il parroco gli consegnò il microfono che usava per dire messa. La gente parlottava per informarsi, ma nessuno sapeva. Al sedeva su una panca a mezza altezza della navata centrale, permanentemente scrutato dalla piccola degli Heinz, una famiglia di biondissimi tedeschi arrivati nella valle dieci anni prima. La bimba era tempestata di efelidi rugginose e aveva uno sguardo d’un azzurro insolente. Al la ignorò. Il sindaco batté un dito sul microfono, sollevando un fischio prolungato. «Amici paesani» cominciò «mi scuso se siete stati chiamati in questo modo, ma siamo qui per una ragione importante: il versante nord è franato.» Vi fu un brusio sommesso, che il sindaco sovrastò facilmente. «Vi esorto a non usare veicoli in direzione nord, la strada non è praticabile. La frana ha abbattuto anche le linee telefoniche, quindi non sarà possibile effettuare e ricevere chiamate fino al suo ripristino.» Il brusio si fece più forte. «È un disagio, lo so. È accaduto altre volte. Finché non saremo coperti dalla rete cellulare forse capiterà ancora.» Disse la frase con tono polemico; aveva proposto varie volte la posa di ripetitori sulle creste dei monti, ma la gente, spaventata dai comprovati danni all’organismo provocati dai campi magnetici, aveva sempre rifiutato. L’unico ripetitore di cui voleva sentir parlare era quello TV, che era stato installato anni prima sui Picchi del Lupo. «Qualcuno dovrebbe andare a chiedere aiuto» disse un uomo con una gran barba, alzandosi lentamente in piedi «se lasciamo che il gestore se ne accorga e intervenga con i suoi tempi, rimarremo isolati fino a Natale.» «Giusto» disse il sindaco; si lisciò la fronte con la mano. «Prima di fare qualunque cosa direi di aspettare Pablo, dovrebbe essere qui a momenti.» Pablo era l’unico poliziotto del paese. Qualcuno dalle ultime file chiese cosa c’entrasse la polizia con i telefoni. Il sindacò scandì bene le parole. «Sta controllando il ponte. Sembra che il fiume sia molto alto, più di quanto io sia in grado di ricordare.» Questa era un po’ grossa da mandar giù. «Vuol dire che avremmo problemi a lasciare la valle?» chiese Bo Gomez, facendosi portavoce della sua famiglia. I Gomez sedevano raggruppati e tutti avevano un’espressione corrucciata, più infastidita che preoccupata. Anche i numerosi bambini. Il sindaco scosse la testa con decisione. «Non facciamo ipotesi premature» disse «aspettiamo Pablo, dovrebbe essere già qui. Restiamo calmi.» La gente si mise a discutere animatamente con i vicini di panca. Il sindaco sedette lentamente, fissando a più riprese l’orologio. Ma dov’era finito Pablo? 5. Pablo osservò le strutture del ponte; erano forti, ma vecchie. Le travi in acciaio erano in buone condizioni, quello che lo preoccupava erano i piloni: tre, uno centrale in mezzo al fiume, e gli altri due incastonati nelle sponde opposte, tutti realizzati in calcestruzzo di bassa qualità. Il pilastro nel mezzo era di semplice appoggio, c’era una piastra in acciaio su cui s’attestava l’intradosso del ponte; quelli laterali non erano veri pilastri, ma terrapieni rivestiti da un crostone di cemento. Il fiume in quel punto non era più largo di sei metri, la larghezza minore nel suo percorso rettilineo nella valle. Lì le acque acceleravano; molti tronchi venivano trasportati velocemente dalla corrente impetuosa, cozzando contro le strutture inferiori del ponte che, essendo relativamente leggero, vibrava in maniera sonora. La forza delle acque tendeva a spostarlo lateralmente, gli appoggi di estremità si opponevano alla sollecitazione, mostrando però delle fratture grigio scuro sulla superficie di calcestruzzo. Pablo non sapeva cosa fare. Si strofinò la faccia, asciugandosi alla bell’e meglio dalla pioggia. L’acqua era al limite degli argini; il ponte, che era contornato da una grata d’acciaio a maglie strette per evitare che la gente in transito cadesse in acqua, era premuto da una gran massa di materiale arboreo di piccole e grandi dimensioni trascinato fin lì dai monti: quella massa premeva a causa della corrente, e il suo ritmo d’accumulo progressivo non accennava a ridursi. Quel che era peggio, il ponte era stato realizzato per vecchie portate d’acqua, antecedenti alla breve avventura mineraria, a seguito della quale, con il cambiamento degli equilibri idrogeologici, nuovi affluenti erano comparsi. Erano stati presi provvedimenti tramite opere di adeguamento, ma erano solo stati innalzati gli argini; con tutto il materiale di avanzo dagli scavi minerari era la cosa più facile, ma il ponte non era stato rialzato. Il risultato era che l’argine era più alto del livello inferiore del ponte e l’acqua stava cominciando a scorrere sul fondo stradale sospeso, filtrando attraverso la rete di parapetto. Pablo salì sul viadotto per sincerarsi della cosa bagnandosi le scarpe. Da lì il Delora faceva paura. Pablo si preoccupò parecchio. La rete era premuta fortemente, il gran numero di detriti in arrivo tendevano a tapparne i buchi e Pablo temette che l’acqua, non trovando più alcuno sfogo, creasse una pressione tale da sconquassare la struttura. Corse in macchina, aprì il cofano e cercò tra gli attrezzi che si portava sempre dietro. Prese una tenaglia lunga un braccio e corse sul ponte; prese a smantellare gli elementi di fissaggio della rete senza rendersi perfettamente conto di quel che faceva. Pensò che fosse una buon idea tagliare un po’ qua un po’ là, per far sì che la rete se ne venisse tutta insieme. La pressione era notevole; man mano che l’uomo tranciava, la rete si deformava di più. All’improvviso Pablo udì uno schianto inatteso; la rete, come lui voleva, aveva ceduto nel suo insieme. Sotto la spinta di tronchi e rami la rete si disfece proiettandosi contro l’uomo, che ne fu avviluppato; Pablo saltò a piè pari la carreggiata, scagliato contro la rete che stava sull’altro lato del ponte. Il colpo fu violento, accompagnato da un bombardamento di rami e rametti, foglie marce e terriccio. L’uomo cadde seduto, leggermente stordito. Si ripulì la faccia dallo sporco, mentre l’acqua, non più ostacolata, entrava a ondate portando di tutto. Il tritume prese ad accumularsi rapidamente contro l’altra rete. L’acqua ora era di mezzo metro sopra l’asfalto e Pablo, incapace di muoversi, vi era immerso sino alla cintura. Si sentiva un inetto bimbone compreso in un umido destino. Si riscosse rabbrividendo all’abbraccio gelido delle acque sudice. Si alzò, allora, sguazzando scompostamente per liberarsi dalla rete divelta; dette le spalle alla corrente, e questo fu un errore. Non aveva ancora usato la tenaglia per togliersi l’impiccio che una coppia di tronchi si avvicinò rapidamente, scavalcò gli ostacoli e spazzò il ponte colpendo Pablo alle gambe. Con un gemito l’uomo cadde in ginocchio, le gambe intrappolate dai legni; lottò per liberarsi ancora, ma gli sembrava di muoversi nella gelatina. Più il tempo passava e più nuova roba gli andava contro o si addossava alla rete rimasta. Pablo riuscì ad alzarsi, senza fiato; lasciò perdere la tenaglia, qui era in gioco la pelle. Senza più ostacoli, quintali di rifiuti si accumulavano sull’asfalto. Altri tronchi si aggiunsero; non erano grossi ma crearono un nuovo problema: si incastrarono nelle parti strutturali del manufatto opponendosi al flusso libero della robaccia convogliata fin lì. Con orrore, Pablo vide che la strada si riempiva di un po’ di tutto. Non era più solo la rete: quella forse avrebbe ceduto alla pressione eccessiva. Adesso erano le stesse strutture in acciaio del ponte che contribuivano all’impilamento del materiale. Pablo lottò per tornare alla macchina, scavalcò parecchi ostacoli, cadde e si bagnò da capo a piedi. Rischiò due volte di affogare. La macchina era laggiù, sembrava inarrivabile. Ora il ponte era pieno, ma altre cose riuscivano a saltare quelle presenti alzando cataste. Il peso cominciava a farsi considerevole. Incapace di fare qualcosa di intelligente Pablo pensò solo a scappare. Si aggrappò alle longarine più alte e fece il funambolo col poco di energia che gli restava. Ce l’aveva quasi fatta. Con un salto si ritrovò sull’argine e con un altro ruzzolò goffamente verso la macchina. Era salvo. Non riusciva a rimettersi in piedi, lasciò che le ginocchia si inzuppassero di melma. Attese qualche minuto respirando forte. Si alzò, finalmente, con cautela, scivolando sul terreno pregno di pioggia. Stava scendendo fitta fitta. Si diresse di nuovo sull’argine; in quel breve lasso di tempo il ponte si era riempito fino all’inverosimile, ed era colpa sua. Togliendo la prima rete ma non la seconda, aveva creato una sacca in cui la corrente si riversava senza sosta portando nuove cose. I tronchi ammonticchiati erano parecchi, adesso; coprivano gran parte delle superfici. «Crollerà» mormorò Pablo. Il peso dell’acqua e del resto stava facendo cigolare le strutture portanti. Pablo osservava impotente. Continuava a peggiorare. C’erano fango e legno dappertutto. Il ponte emetteva suoni sinistri e le crepe sul terrapieno si allargarono. Non cedettero né le strutture metalliche, né la parte asfaltata, ma il terrapieno si contorse e si sfaldò con una lentezza irreale. Terra e cemento caddero nel fiume lasciando al loro posto un buco ampio e nero. Il ponte si mosse: la parte connessa alla terra si staccò a fatica sotto la spinta della piena; l’estremo del ponte ruotò e si abbassò, senza affondare. Il ponte tentennò, strusciò contro il pilastrino centrale, traslò verso valle roteando piano, infine l’impiantito si deformò e si staccò in larghe scaglie, lasciando cadere docilmente tonnellate di carico nel centro del Delora. Pablo trattenne il respiro; osservò stolidamente il materiale che prima si dibatté litigioso, e poi trovò tra i flutti la via per abbandonarsi al suo viaggio verso il mare. L’uomo girò la testa; il ponte era inutilizzabile, ormai, restava a dimenarsi nel centro del fiume, inclinato, ancora vincolato all’ultimo terrapieno sulla riva opposta. Nella cavità lasciata dal suo lato Pablo vide incanalarsi una grande quantità d’acqua: in quel punto dell’argine non c’era più nulla a opporsi alla forza del fiume. Il primo robusto fiotto d’acqua esplose in trecce lucide e s’avventò all’esterno del letto, finalmente libero. L’auto fu investita dai flutti, oscillò, si mosse lentamente. Pablo lanciò un grido da pellerossa terrorizzato. Saltò verso la macchina inzuppandosi di nuovo come un pulcino nel torrente copioso in rotta verso valle. Annaspando l’uomo si aggrappò alla maniglia della portiera ed entrò in auto insieme a un bel po’ d’acqua; chiuse lo sportello e accese il motore. L’auto si mise in moto subito; Pablo forzò il motore inutilmente, le ruote erano parzialmente immerse e slittavano. L’acqua scura di minutaglia minacciava di infilarsi nel tubo di scappamento. Per fortuna il fiume esondato trascinò il veicolo per molti metri, fino a condurlo in un punto in cui le ruote fecero presa di nuovo. Pablo sterzò verso il paese e partì a razzo. 6. Il sindaco riusciva a stento a quietare la gente. Erano tutti agitati e spaventati. I Gomez erano decisamente arrabbiati, adesso. Tozzi e robusti come scaricatori di porto, discutevano animatamente con la voce che sembrava più che altro un ringhio inespressivo. Quando Pablo, fradicio e spaventato, fece la sua comparsa nell’assemblea con grave ritardo, tutti ammutolirono. Il sindaco s’avvide delle condizioni in cui era e insisté per farlo sedere. Pablo rifiutò. Molti gli facevano domande. L’uomo alzò una mano e parlò tanto fiocamente da forzare il silenzio altrui. «Il ponte è andato» disse. Strepito generale. Il sindaco cercò strenuamente di zittire i presenti. «… silenzio, ho detto!» sbraitò il sindaco per quarta volta. Vi fu un attimo di calma. «Il ponte è andato» riprese Pablo «ero presente. L’acqua sta filtrando da un buco dell’argine. Dobbiamo fare qualcosa in fretta o la forza del fiume scaverà una breccia di dimensioni tali da allagare velocemente la valle. E le case stanno nel punto più basso.» «La fine del topo!» gridò una donna spaventata. «Calma» disse il sindaco cercando di coprire il vocìo che quel commento aveva originato. Bo Gomez si consultò con i fratelli. «Sindaco» disse, alzandosi in piedi «non possiamo scappare, se mai volessimo. Abbiamo una frana a nord e un guado impossibile a sud. Ho un sacco di figli e nipoti qui con me, sindaco. Spero che abbia una proposta.» Il sindaco si guardò attorno cercando una risposta, senza trovarla. Al si guardò intorno anche lui; la gente era terrorizzata. Sarebbero già stati abbastanza disperati abbandonando le loro case, ma dover aspettare l’inondazione senza poter fuggire… «Qualcuno ha un’idea?» chiese il sindaco. «Mandiamo qualcuno a chiedere aiuto. L’idea è ancora più valida, adesso» disse la signora Heinz, una giovane donna attraente dal marcato accento tedesco. Era a un paio di metri da Al e stringeva la figlia come se lei volesse sfuggirle. Pablo scosse la testa. «È un’idea buona, ma superata. Se non facciamo qualcosa per arginare la piena, in due ore ci troviamo tutti sotto alcuni metri d’acqua.» Al si alzò in piedi, vincendo l’istinto misantropico che lo spingeva a farsi i fatti suoi. I presenti lo osservarono senza particolare interesse. Alzò entrambe le braccia indicando di voler parlare. Il sindaco lo vide. «Al» disse l’anziano capo della comunità «dicci.» «Abbiamo bisogno di un nuovo argine» disse Al, con un tono leggermente forzato per farsi sentire. Bin Gomez, fratello minore di Bo, sghignazzò rivolgendosi ai parenti. «Un nuovo argine, sicuro» mormorò «perché noi non ci abbiamo pensato?» Bo approvò la frase del fratello con un risolino sardonico. «…dicevo» proseguì Al «che dobbiamo crearne un altro.» Pablo scosse la testa di nuovo. «Non so cos’hai in mente, ma non si può fare. L’area è impraticabile, ora.» «Non dico di avvicinarsi al fiume. Saliamo una ventina di metri sulle pendici dei Picchi del Lupo e facciamoli saltare.» «Facciamo saltare cosa?» disse Bo stupito. «I due Picchi del Lupo» rispose Al «non dovrebbe essere difficile. Il crollo delle pareti di roccia può formare una barriera sufficiente.» «Con cosa dovremmo farli saltare, a parole?» disse Bin, a voce forte ora. Al allargò le braccia in un gesto omnicomprensivo. «Delora è stato un paese di minatori. Non dovrei essere io a suggerirlo.» «Hai detto giusto, amico. È stato. Un sacco di anni fa» replicò Bin. «Oh, insomma» sbottò Ron schizzando in piedi «abbiamo capito cosa intende Al.» «L’hai capito tu» fece Bo, in difesa del fratello «hai degli esplosivi, nell’emporio?» Ron si concesse una smorfia di disprezzo. «Il museo» interloquì il sindaco «sicuro. Nel museo abbiamo un bel po’ di lingotti di dinamite. Ma sono vecchi.» «Non ci resta che provare» disse Al «ci servono solo dei volontari che piazzino le cariche ai piedi dei Picchi e le facciano brillare. Con una miccia bella lunga, anche.» Ora i fratelli Gomez avevano gli occhi che luccicavano. «Ci penseremo noi. Abbiamo esperienza, in queste cose» disse Bo. Nessuno ebbe voglia di chiedere che tipo di esperienza; qualcuno era disponibile e tanto bastava. «Bene. Propongo che i Gomez vadano subito» disse il sindaco «non ci possiamo permettere di attendere oltre. Noi altri possiamo aspettare qui.» Tutti erano d’accordo. I Gomez marciarono al museo e presero tutti i candelotti di dinamite che trovarono, li caricarono sulla loro jeep e partirono alla volta del fiume. La gente attese con impazienza, seduta in chiesa. Al se ne uscì un po’ alla chetichella; era già stato anche troppo sotto i riflettori, per i suoi gusti. Era giunto alla chiesa a piedi, e a piedi s’incamminò verso i Picchi del Lupo. 7. Le esplosioni furono quasi simultanee. I Gomez avevano fatto presto, ma anche Al si era mosso in fretta; era giunto in vista dei Picchi da due minuti quando il doppio rombo percosse le pareti delle montagne. Dalla sua posizione, lontana ma sopraelevata rispetto al letto del fiume, Al aveva una buona visibilità degli eventi. I fumi del mattino si stavano diradando; era quasi spiovuto. Il sole non aveva abbastanza forza per forare le nubi, ma diffondeva comunque luce e calore sufficienti da disperdere le ultime nebbie. I Picchi tremarono. All’inizio parve che la dinamite non avesse avuto effetto, poi, con una lentezza esasperante, intere colonne di roccia iniziarono a sgretolarsi. I Picchi vennero giù, sfaldandosi in costoni e massi di ogni dimensione; il rumore del crollo fu ancora più impressionante delle esplosioni. Le rocce fecero a gara a raggiungere il suolo, rotolando e balzando sul terreno accidentato, invadendo la strada che conduceva al ponte, intercettando le acque del fiume che stavano invadendo la valle. Alti spruzzi d’acqua si levarono in cielo. Al rimase a guardare quello spettacolo finché, tra le polveri e il fango, la visibilità di quella porzione di vallata si ridusse a poca cosa. Alte grida si levarono là in basso: erano i fratelli Gomez che festeggiavano. Ruggivano e sghignazzavano d’orgoglio. Al attese che la pioggerella ripulisse l’atmosfera. 8. In chiesa la gente stringeva le mani ai vicini e lodava i fratelli Gomez, che non si curavano di nascondere una certa fierezza. Dopo che il nuvolone si era dissipato era stato subito evidente che il tentativo era riuscito; il fiume era stato arginato e aveva ripreso il corso regolare, cominciando a esondare leggermente sopra la riva sud. L’acqua aveva iniziato a scendere in quella parte di valle senza possibilità di danno, visto che da sempre la zona era disabitata. Tutti facevano festa; erano ancora isolati, ma almeno non rischiavano più la pelle. Ron si accostò ad Al, che era appena rientrato dalla sua ennesima scarpinata del giorno. «Vedi?» disse con sarcasmo Ron «tutti d’amore e d’accordo. Persino i Gomez sembrano decenti, oggi.» Al lo fissò con una certa sorpresa. L’ironia del negoziante non gli sembrava del tutto motivata. «Questa gente ha rischiato parecchio, oggi. È normale che siano contenti.» Ron ricambiò lo sguardo di Al. «Certo» assentì «ma come sarebbe andata se la situazione non si fosse risolta?» «Be’, se davvero l’acqua depura, ora saremmo tutti purificatissimi.» «Non è quel che intendevo. Se l’emergenza non fosse stata così drammatica, avremmo giocato tutti a festeggiamo-assieme-i-Gomez?» «Ron» disse Al «non ti capisco. Una volta tanto che il paese sembra unito come volevi tu…» «Solo per fifa, Al, solo per fifa» replicò Ron. La gente ancora parlottava animatamente, visibilmente più rilassata. Il sindaco cercò di attirare l’attenzione sventolando le mani. «Amici…» cominciò «amici…» Alcuni si voltarono verso di lui e sedettero di nuovo, in attesa. Gli altri seguirono l’esempio senza fretta. «Compaesani» riprese l’anziano «siamo tutti grati ai fratelli Gomez per l’apporto che hanno dato alla faccenda. E grazie anche a te, Al, per l’ottima idea. Ma siamo ancora in emergenza. Direi che dovremmo decidere cosa fare. Non possiamo comunicare con le città vicine, possiamo solo ricevere le trasmissioni televisive. Sono il nostro solo contatto con il mondo esterno. Dobbiamo prendere in considerazione l’opportunità di mandare qualcuno ad avvertire della nostra condizione.» «Sì, giusto» disse qualcuno in fondo alla navata. Vi furono svariati commenti favorevoli, ma sembrava che nessuno si rendesse conto di cosa comportasse. Ci fu chi prendeva la camminata come una gita scolastica. Suo malgrado, Al era forse l’unico che per esperienza avesse un’idea della difficoltà dell’iniziativa; si alzò in piedi. «Scusatemi. Non voglio spaventare nessuno, ma neanche lasciare che si sottovaluti la cosa.» I paesani lo guardarono attentamente; Al si dimenò, leggermente a disagio, spostando alternativamente il peso del corpo da un piede all’altro. «Per chiedere aiuto» disse «si deve scalare la cresta di monti che circonda la valle, evitando la frana o i picchi crollati, che sono instabili. Poi scalare la successiva catena di monti per arrivare a una zona coperta dalle reti cellulari. Quattro giorni a piedi. Devo anche puntualizzare, signor sindaco, che non siamo nemmeno in grado di ricevere le trasmissioni televisive. Il ripetitore stava assai vicino ai Picchi del lupo. Troppo.» La gente ci rimase male. Molti guardarono i Gomez, un po’ meno entusiasti. Bo fissò Al con un certo astio. «Sai un sacco di cose, tu» disse Bo «come sai quanto ci vuole?» «Mi piace camminare» disse Al asciutto. «Sapevi anche della piena» disse Bo. «Sì.» «E la frana? Chi l’ha vista stamani deve essersi alzato dannatamente presto.» Come spesso Al aveva visto i Gomez vestiti di tutto punto per la caccia, così loro avevano visto Al marciare vigorosamente tra le nebbie, nella semioscurità. Al annuì. «Ho incontrato la frana e ho notato la piena, per fortuna» rispose Al. Non ci vedeva nulla di male. Alle sue spalle e intorno si alzarono brusii malevoli. Bin Gomez si unì al gioco del fratello. «Tu hai suggerito di far crollare i Picchi del lupo» disse. Al capiva cosa cercavano di insinuare, anche se non ne capiva il perché. Comunque non gliene importava niente. «Non c’era alternativa» disse. Bo Gomez alzò la voce. «Qualcun altro tra voi altri ha visto la frana?» domandò, scorrendo lo sguardo sui presenti. Anche se mormorata, la risposta era un evidente “no”. «Suggerisco di andare a vedere, allora. Non si sa mai.» Al si strinse nelle spalle. Il sindaco, che aveva una certa simpatia per il giovane, sembrava imbarazzato. «Direi… che si può fare, senza offendere nessuno» intervenne, evitando di guardare Al «in macchina ci vogliono non più di dieci minuti.» «Fate pure» disse Al «quando l’avrete vista, rimarrà comunque il problema dei soccorsi. Io non ho particolare voglia di andare, ma sono quello più adatto.» Ron gli comparve accanto, gli mise una mano sulla spalla. La gente borbottava in maniera incomprensibile; con uno sguardo significativo Ron indicò i presenti. «Apprezzo la tua offerta, Al» disse poi, in modo che gli altri sentissero «so che non c’è bisogno di andare alla frana.» Il sindaco guardò Ron, Al e i Gomez. «Certo» disse «ciononostante i nostri cittadini devono essere sicuri. È una situazione già abbastanza difficile. Non costa nulla andare a vedere quella frana.» «Se c’è, e se è una frana» disse Bin. Francamente si divertiva. Altri mormorii turbati. «Che c’è?» chiese Bo «è stato Al a suggerire la dinamite. Sapeva bene dov’era.» «Sta’ zitto, Gomez» disse Ron «tutti sapevamo dov’era. Se fosse stata usata per chiudere il passo nord le esplosioni avrebbero svegliato tutti. È stato uno smottamento, invece, inudibile per il maltempo.» «Ok, ok» disse Bo sorridendo. Molti comunque sbirciavano Al con palese ostilità, e lui non avrebbe potuto dar loro torto: i Gomez dimostravano spesso la loro lillipuzianità mentale, ma erano prevedibili come le tasse. Al era ritenuto strano per abitudini e atteggiamenti. Chi altri s’infradiciava nottetempo per il solo piacere di camminare? Pablo si alzò in piedi; ormai si era ripreso dall’esperienza sul fiume. «Ho capito» disse. Andò da Al e lo prese a braccetto. «Mi spiace, Al» disse. Il giovane lo squadrò con un certo stupore. «Per la tua sicurezza, Al» disse a voce alta il poliziotto «rimani dentro casa per un po’, vedo troppe occhiate storte, qua dentro. Finché non si chiarisce tutto.» Al sorrise senza allegria. «D’accordo. Ma stiamo perdendo tempo.» Pablo accompagnò Al fuori dalla chiesa e lo fece entrare nell’auto di servizio. Al notò le condizioni pietose del veicolo, ma non era in vena di commentare; fece per sedere sui sedili posteriori, ma Pablo gli aprì la portiera davanti: non voleva che il giovane si considerasse un vero prigioniero. Pablo lo accompagnò a casa sua e lo salutò con cortesia professionale, raccomandandogli di non andarsene in giro; poi tornò alla riunione paesana. Al entrò in casa e ciondolò qua e là senza una meta, poi decise di prenderla con filosofia e di leggere un buon libro; ne prese uno dalla biblioteca, ma lo rimise a posto subito. Poteva fare di meglio. Andò a prendere la legna nel capanno adiacente casa ignorando la pioggia di nuovo battente, e tornò dentro con una bracciata di rami robusti. Mise il tutto nel camino e accese il fuoco, che prese a scoppiettare allegramente. Non era freddo, l’inverno pieno era passato da un pezzo, ma la pioggia continua di quei giorni aveva abbassato la temperatura di qualche grado e Al trovava un sollievo fisico e psicologico nel fiammeggiare allegro della legna secca. Lasciò che il fuoco gli imporporasse la pelle del viso; poi decise come avrebbe passato il resto della giornata. Si organizzò per bene; pasto frugale e lettura scelta davanti al focolare. La scatola di Lori era per terra, aperta; Al teneva il diario tra le mani, un po’ troppo vicino al volto, così che inconsciamente doveva socchiudere gli occhi per mettere a fuoco la scrittura fitta in cui era immerso. Agli arresti domiciliari, o quel che erano, non aveva altro stimolo che leggere la storia del suo personale fallimento come marito; troppe volte aveva lasciato che il suo lavoro entrasse nella sua vita familiare, troppe volte Lori ne aveva sofferto senza farglielo pesare. Poi la malattia; a quel punto del diario era già entrata in campo. Un fattore nuovo, di cui Lori non doveva sapere. Un mezz’uomo, ecco cosa aveva sposato la sensuale, cerebrale, dolce Lori. Al prese a curarsi all’insaputa di lei e andava a correre nelle ore più impensate: adorava la città di notte, la sensazione di efficienza del proprio corpo, il sudore che disperdeva assieme all’angoscia. Lori non ci capiva più niente; quell’uomo faceva il possibile per sfuggirle o cosa? In mezzo a quel frastorno, leggendo ancora Al vide anche un lato tenero di Lori che non pensava esistesse; era sempre stata carina con i bambini, ma nella pagina del 12 dicembre di due anni prima diceva: “ho incontrato la bimba dei vicini, oggi. Ha tre anni e mezzo, un vestitino da bambola e una fantastica maniera di guardare le cose. Come se fossero più di quel che sono. Non sono riuscita a distogliere l’attenzione mentre giocava con le amiche e spiegava le sue ragioni con puntiglio. Fantastica. Le è caduto il pallone nel nostro giardino, è venuto a prenderlo vicino a me. Profuma di bimba. Ho pensato come sarebbe stato se fosse mia figlia. Io, con una bambina. Chissà se ad Al piacerebbe?” Al non aveva mai visto Lori come una madre. Lori non aveva mai visto Lori come una madre, per quel che ne sapeva lui. Non avevano mai parlato di avere figli; troppo complicato, visto il loro lavoro, o forse era semplicemente troppo presto. Almeno per Al. Non si era sentito maturo per diventare padre, come per un sacco di altre cose. Gli uomini, eterni bambini. La frase preferita di sua madre, rammentò. Ma non era soltanto questo. Al era malato. E si sentiva malato. Che razza di padre sarebbe stato un uomo così? La cura giusta era assai lontana, allora; solo la corsa gli dava sollievo. Lori continuava poi con altri fatti, non molto interessanti per la verità. Il diario riportava poi un evento inoffensivo che però Al avrebbe preferito scordare: il patatrac che lui aveva combinato alla regata di fine anno. Ricordava anche troppo bene; lui e Lori erano andati in barca su un lago montano, e siccome l’imbarcazione era comoda e dal fondo piatto, be’, era alquanto predisponente all’amoreggiamento. Ma certe effusioni possono essere inopportune se si galleggia al centro di un lago dove sta per svolgersi una competizione velica. Certo, quelli non l’avevano segnalata, ma Al si era sentito piccino piccino quando, sbaffato di rossetto, aveva dovuto profondersi in scuse con i concorrenti più maleducati. Lesse quelle righe senza entusiasmo ma con stupore crescente: Lori l’aveva vissuta in modo così diverso! Si era divertita, persino. Aveva riso di gusto, badando di nasconderlo ad Al; era così imbarazzato, quel ragazzo! Le era apparso teneramente impreparato innanzi a tanto magra figura; lui, che si sforzava sempre di mantenere il controllo delle cose. Lei glielo aveva ripetuto spesso: “non c’è da illudersi di avere il controllo della tua vita, le cose accadono e basta. È importante accettarlo, questo, per essere felici.” Mai Lori aveva profferito frase più lontana dal modo di sentire di Al. Lui aveva sempre pianificato le proprie cose, pretendendo da sé stesso e dagli altri sin troppo rigore. E così aveva fatto finché, poi, non cessò di essere in grado di esercitare quel controllo: prima la malattia improvvisa, quindi lo sgretolamento del matrimonio e del lavoro. Un tonfo sordo, la sua vita. E questo l’aveva condotto a Delora. Al si riscosse, fustigato dal codone di Ric. A Lori sarebbe piaciuto quel gatto. Non era solo bello, era un animale capace di seguire l’umore di Al. Gli era accanto quando lui stava male, lamentandosi con un miagolìo stentato da micettino; si teneva alla larga nei momenti di malumore; era parte integrante del mobilio nel tempo lieto e nel riposo. Insomma, era migliore di Al; lui sì che si adeguava alle cose, secondo il pensiero di Lori. Al lo carezzò sulla schiena sollevando un prrr compiaciuto. Riprese a leggere. Il giorno dopo Lori scriveva di un’amica all’ottavo mese di gravidanza; diceva: “… mi sono scoperta a spiare la sua pancia enorme, e lei si è messa a ridere. Le ho chiesto scusa e ho riso anch’io. Cosa deve essere avere qualcuno dentro? Sentirlo, chiamarlo per nome, sapendo che quel suono penetra dentro di te e arriva fino a quell’esserino indifeso? Ringrazio Dio che mi ha fatto donna. Al non saprà mai cosa significa…” Al cominciò a sbocconcellare un panino imbottito d’insalata dell’orto. Scorse una decina di giorni zeppi di fatti e pensieri anonimi; lui si stava comportando benino, in quel periodo, Lori era abbastanza serena. Poi il venti gennaio: “… mi piacerebbe che fosse una sorpresa. Al non se l’aspetta di certo. Ma non so come la prenderà, forse è meglio che lo scopra da sé…” E il ventitré: “… non mi sento bene. Al è all’estero, impegnatissimo. Non ne abbiamo ancora parlato. Ho un po’ paura, Al ha ripreso a essere scostante. Non posso dirglielo. Devo chiudere, adesso. Non mi sento affatto bene…” La pagina successiva era datata venti febbraio, un intero mese di salto. C’erano poche righe, scritte in grafia piccola: “non ho voglia di nulla. Al ha dei problemi al lavoro, ne parla continuamente. Cerco di aiutarlo, ma ci vorrebbe chi sostiene me. Sono a terra. Non credo di voler rischiare di ripetere quest’esperienza. Mi sento distrutta dalla perdita di questa bambina…” Al chiuse il diario di scatto facendo saettare all’insù le vibrisse di Ric, che gli si era acciambellato contro. Pensò furiosamente, a lungo. Ripose lentamente il diario nella sua scatola. Restò a osservare le fiamme che s’inseguivano nel camino, finché i lampi non si fecero fiochi e infine non rimase che cenere. «Mio Dio» mormorò «c’è qualcosa che sapevo, di quella donna?» 9. Ron bussò timidamente alla porta della casa di Al. Il giovane stava con la sua confezione di pillole in mano. Era vuota; con il maltempo la farmacia del paese ne era rimasta sprovvista. Lui credeva di averne una scorta, ma si era sbagliato. Al continuò a ponderare la cosa per un momento; erano anni che non stava male, forse non aveva più bisogno di farmaci. In precedenza gli era capitato di restare senza pillole per due giorni e non era successo nulla. Al si strinse nelle spalle e cercò il contenitore del caffè. Ne preparava sempre in eccesso, così da potersene scaldare un po’ senza aspettare troppo. Ron intanto aveva fatto il giro della casa e vide Al dalla finestra mentre carezzava Ric mettendo il bricco sul fuoco. Era arrivato al momento giusto. Al lo notò, là fuori, grondante d’acqua, fangoso al punto giusto, e gli fece cenno di entrare. Ron sedette in cucina con una buffa timidezza; sporcò l’impiantito di goccioline luride e si profuse in scuse esagerate. Era la prima volta che andava a trovare Al a casa. «Come va il carcerato?» chiese Ron sorseggiando il caffè. Era deliziosamente bollente. «Be’…» fece Al. Due uova sfrigolavano su una piastra di ghisa mandando un notevole profumo. Al le rigirò e ammiccò a Ron, che educatamente rifiutò. Il giovane sedette di fronte all’ospite riempiendosi il piatto. «Volevo aggiornarti sulle decisioni dell’assemblea» disse Ron. Al sforchettò senza dare segni di interesse. «… che ovviamente non ha deciso niente» sentenziò Ron «la gente vuole aspettare, sembrano tutti sicuri che i soccorsi verranno da soli.» «Magnifico» disse Al; sollevò il bicchiere di spremuta per un brindisi implicito «tutto qui?» «No» disse Ron «mi sono ricordato di avere una vecchia ricetrasmittente. Direi più antica che vecchia. Da giovane ero appassionato. È malmessa, ma posso lavorarci.» «Vuoi dire… l’antenna che sta sopra il tuo emporio?» Tutti aveva visto quella lunga asta flessibile che fuoriusciva dal tetto del negozio. Era così alta da richiedere quattro lunghi tiranti d’acciaio. Al l’aveva notata, ma la sua curiosità nei confronti di certe cose era molto blanda. «Già. Non funziona, ma potrebbe. Mi sono preso l’impegno di ripararla. Un giorno di lavoro, poi o va o è da buttare. Il sindaco mi dà una mano. Suo padre aveva qualcosa di simile.» Al attaccò il secondo uovo con immutato entusiasmo. «Sì» disse «è un tentativo da fare.» Ron lo guardò in maniera strana per un paio di minuti, sorseggiando il caffè. «D’accordo» concluse «visto che non me lo chiedi, sono venuto anche per un’altra ragione. La frana l’hanno vista tutti, ed è evidente che è stato uno smottamento a causa delle forti piogge. Nessuna esplosione. Pablo ha detto che sei libero di circolare come sempre.» «Grandioso. Per andare dove?» «Se pensi di partire per chiedere aiuto ti consiglio di non farlo. È un dannato viaggio. Non smette di piovere. In giornata potrei riuscire a riparare la radio. Allora sarebbe una prodezza inutile. Aspetta almeno fino a domani.» Ron sembrava sulle spine; evidentemente era preoccupato per lui. «Aspetterò» disse Al «tanto ho molto da fare.» C’era il diario di Lori ad attenderlo. Non vedeva l’ora di riprendere a leggerlo. Ron restò un’altra mezz’ora parlando del più e del meno. Poi andò all’emporio per riparare la radio. Il sindaco lo aspettava sulla porta con una grossa cassetta di attrezzi fra i piedi. I due entrarono e si misero al lavoro. 10. Un’altra brutta giornata. Al aveva perso il conto, ormai, sembrava piovesse da sempre. Ric gli diede il buongiorno saltando sul letto per reclamare la sua colazione. Al sedette al tavolino macchinalmente. Aveva letto gran parte del diario di Lori, ormai, proseguendo fino alle ore piccole. Era una buona lettura, che dimostrava due cose: primo, come Lori non avesse avuto fortuna a incontrarlo, ma non fosse riuscita a evitare il matrimonio; secondo, come lui avesse avuto fortuna a sposarla, ma non fosse riuscito a evitare il divorzio. Al si sentiva la testa vuota. Diede la pappa a Ric e infilò una manciata di cereali croccanti in un tazzone di latte e caffè. Quanto di più semplice, benché detestabile, riuscisse a pensare per riempire la pancia. Era ancora impegnato a sgranocchiare quando suonò la campana della chiesa. Un’altra adunanza paesana. Al terminò con calma di mangiare, si lavò i denti e finì di vestirsi. Non era del tutto sicuro di voler andare. Non conosceva bene quella gente, né era molto interessato a conoscerla. Per una volta aveva cercato di aiutare - aiutando anche sé stesso, è ovvio - e quelli non avevano reagito come ci si sarebbe aspettato da persone ragionevoli. Avevano paura, certo. Questo forse li avrebbe coesi, alla fine. Almeno, era quanto si augurava da sempre Ron. Al carezzò distrattamente il gatto, poi decise di andare. Fuori veniva alla grande. Il giovane si mise l’impermeabile e s’infilò in macchina; le strade era percorse da torrentelli fastidiosi. La luce del sole produceva un po’ di chiarore, la temperatura era di molto sotto le medie stagionali. Al guidò con attenzione fin nei pressi della chiesa. Il piazzale era pieno di auto; parcheggiò non lontano, poi corse al riparo dei portici dei negozietti che circondavano l’edificio. Quando entrò, buon ultimo, fece sollevare qualche sopracciglio, ma niente di più. Ron stava parlando; il sindaco era accanto a lui, e aveva una faccia terrea. Ron non era abituato a parlare in pubblico; li conosceva tutti, ma era capace di prenderli per bene solo uno alla volta. Il suo era il discorso introduttivo più ingarbugliato e inconcludente che a quella gente fosse capitato di sentire. Il sindaco venne in suo soccorso: le guance di Ron erano di un bel rosso pomodoro. «Amici» disse il sindaco con decisione «quel che il nostro Ron stava cercando di dire è che la sua radio funziona solo per metà. Riceve soltanto. Il che è già qualcosa, visto che le comuni radio qui non possono farlo. Ieri notte siamo rimasti ad ascoltare per un bel po’. Si sentiva per lo più rumore di fondo. Le poche trasmissioni che abbiamo ricevuto erano in francese.» Il sindaco era stato in Francia diverse volte per piacere, si era sempre vantato di conoscere la Francia molto bene. Anche Ron parlava francese; sua nonna veniva da Lione, si era trasferita quando l’ennesima crisi economica di quel paese aveva messo in ginocchio l’economia nazionale. «La situazione è seria» disse il sindaco «dovremmo essere noi a portare soccorso, sembra. Tutte le città del mondo sono state colpite da uragani e alluvioni. La nostra pioggia ci ha creato problemi; altrove intere città sono state quasi sommerse. Non si contano i morti. Frane, crolli e devastazioni, ecco come sta il mondo. Sono sei settimane che piove in sud America, il Rio delle Amazzoni ha invaso parte della foresta. New York… be’, non abbiamo capito bene, ma sembra stia lottando per controllare il livello del mare e molte strade sono allagate; alcune dighe dei Paesi Bassi hanno ceduto. Le Maldive sono state evacuate alla bell’e meglio, al momento ci vivono solo i pesci. Eventi comuni, in questi decenni, ma per combinazione ora accadono tutti insieme. Ci pensate? Di solito se piove qui, da un’altra parte c’è il sole. Statistica. Adesso no. Un’anomalìa. Chi abbiamo sentito è chiuso in casa, al sicuro dai razziatori, con una buona scorta di cibo. In tante zone il sistema commerciale si è inceppato, i supermercati sono vuoti, la gente patisce la fame. Gli ospedali sono fuori uso, la corrente elettrica manca in molte città. Nell’emisfero australe bruciano i mobili di casa per non morire di freddo. L’elenco dei fatti è lungo, ma il senso l’avete capito. Non verrà nessuno ad aiutarci. Non per adesso. Se mandassimo qualcuno a chiedere aiuto, al massimo attireremmo qui gente in caccia delle nostre stesse risorse.» Nessuno disse nulla. Era troppo grossa, questa, per suscitare facili commenti. I presenti si guardavano tra loro un po’ smarriti. «So come vi sentite» intervenne Ron «ma dobbiamo reagire. Siamo al sicuro, qui. Abbiamo i nostri boschi, acqua in abbondanza…» nessuno ebbe lo spirito di apprezzare l’ironia dell’affermazione «… il nostro paese ha grandi risorse naturali. Siamo gente abituata a vivere semplicemente. La corrente elettrica non mancherà: l’energia viene dalla centrale idroelettrica sulle montagne a dieci chilometri da qui. È automatizzata, non c’è personale che possa fuggire o impazzire, va da sola. La sua diga è a prova di diluvio universale.» Per quanto suonasse rassicurante, Ron non era riuscito a tranquillizzare nessuno. Molti cominciarono a fare domande sulle trasmissioni captate dalla radio, ma le risposte erano sempre le stesse. Quasi tutti erano preoccupati per parenti e amici delle città vicine, ma le informazioni disponibili erano troppo frammentate perché qualcuno venisse soddisfatto. «Cosa facciamo?» chiese la signora Heinz. «La pioggia finirà…» cominciò il sindaco. «Come lo sa?» disse Bo Gomez, fissando i vicini con asprezza «Ron ha parlato di diluvio universale. Questo gli assomiglia parecchio.» Molti condividevano la sua apprensione. «Già» si alzò qualcuno dalle ultime file «potrebbe essere l’ultima pioggia che ci sia dato di vedere.» «Suvvia» disse ancora il sindaco «usiamo la logica. La pioggia finirà. Dobbiamo solo aspettare. Lo sapete, sono anni che il clima fa le bizze. Quel che sta succedendo non era poi così impossibile da prevedere. Per buona parte è colpa dell’uomo. Sta accadendo adesso, ecco tutto. È drammatico, per molti tragico, ma passerà.» Bo Gomez scosse il testone, borbottando coi suoi il proprio dissenso; non gliela contava giusta, il sindaco. «Come stiamo a viveri?» chiese Al. Tutti si voltarono a guardarlo. Dato che era l’emporio l’unico negozio di generi alimentari, Ron si sentì chiamato in causa e mostrò un sorriso imbarazzato. «Be’» disse, alzando la voce «non vengo rifornito da giorni. È una cosa su cui ho pensato. Credo che se ci accontentiamo razionando il cibo, avremo di che sfamarci per altri tre giorni, forse quattro. Più quello che avete già in casa.» Non era gran che come notizia. Molti sbottarono dalla frustrazione. «Possiamo cacciare» disse Ron, guardando i Gomez; erano nella solita tenuta mimetica da ammazzasette. «Con questo tempo?» disse Bin Gomez «un cervo lo prendi solo se ti si butta sotto la macchina.» «Raccogliamo, allora» disse Al «ci sono molti vegetali selvatici che crescono ovunque.» «Verdura» mormorò Bin, con la stessa espressione disgustata di un bimbo imbronciato. Al scosse la testa; gli riusciva difficile pensare che la gente non amasse tuberi, insalate ed erbe di campo come faceva lui. Sua nonna l’aveva rimpinzato di minestre vegetali da quando era un soldo di cacio. Lì in paese era uno dei pochi che faceva l’orto. Personalmente, era in grado di andare avanti per settimane; senza ingozzarsi, certo, ma il cibo non era un vero problema. Per chi stava in città le cose andavano decisamente peggio. «Proveremo a cacciare» disse Bo Gomez. «Molto bene» approvò il sindaco «e seguiremo anche il consiglio di Al. Dopo la riunione, chi conosce le erbe selvatiche commestibili è pregato di soffermarsi qualche minuto, vedremo di organizzarci. Ron farà un inventario esatto dei prodotti nell’emporio, poi si metterà in ascolto alla radio. Alcuni di noi hanno bisogno di farmaci. Per fortuna la farmacia è ben fornita e non ci sono casi gravi. Le campane non suoneranno più, tranne che nelle emergenze. Ogni mattina alle nove sarò presente in chiesa, per un’ora, con buona pace del nostro parroco. Chi ha bisogno di qualcosa o vuole semplicemente sapere come vanno le cose, venga qui. Se avete proposte quello è il momento di farle. È tutto per ora. Non riesco a pensare ad altro, concedetemi e concedetevi un po’ di tempo per digerire questa situazione.» Il sindaco ebbe un cenno di stanchezza; sentiva forte il senso della responsabilità. Al pensò che si stava comportando piuttosto bene. L’assemblea lentamente si disperse; il sindaco si avvicinò ad Al e gli batté sulla spalla. «Lieto di vederti, Al» disse l’uomo anziano «succedono cose da matti, eh?» Al ricambiò il saluto. «Uomo in gamba» disse Ron ad Al, osservando il sindaco che se ne andava chiacchierando con chi gli faceva domande. «Sì» disse Al, con aria scettica. Ron aggrottò la fronte. «Non credi?» «Non è questo» disse Al «penso che il sindaco avrebbe dovuto organizzare subito una squadra di polizia. Pablo sarà anche capace, ma è da solo.» «Polizia? Per fare cosa? Non ci sono criminali in paese» disse Ron, sorpreso. Al sorrise; quando parlava del suo villaggio Ron diventava irrazionale come una moglie. «Non lo so. Ma siamo in una situazione particolare e non è detto che tutti riescano a mantenere il controllo dei nervi.» Ora era la faccia di Ron ad avere un’aria scettica. L’uomo si avviò per tornarsene al lavoro. Al si soffermò per ascoltare i commenti più pittoreschi, poi uscì dalla chiesa per raggiungere Ron; gli si affiancò mentre andava verso il parcheggio. «La tua radio funziona, allora» disse Al. Ron parve imbarazzato. «Va e viene, per la verità. Non credo che durerà. Mancano i pezzi di ricambio. Ci siamo arrangiati con componenti di fortuna.» Ron aprì la portiera dell’auto. Al si diresse alla sua. «Fai attenzione» disse forte Al. Salutò con la mano, accese il motore e guidò lentamente. La pioggia rendeva ogni cosa indistinta. 11. La mattina dopo fu subito chiaro che qualcosa non andava. Al si alzò molto presto, più stanco del solito; aveva dormito poco quella notte, facendo sogni confusi e tormentati. Come talvolta gli succedeva, anche se non ricordava cosa aveva sognato, lo stato emotivo vissuto dormendo gli era rimasto appiccicato. Era di cattivo umore. L’umore non migliorò quando, guardando fuori, vide che una sottile pioggerella ticchettava sull’orto. E divenne anche peggiore quando si accorse che quella notte qualcuno gli aveva fatto visita. Nel terreno c’erano grosse buche dove prima stava l’orgoglio dell’orto, una sequela di verdure in foglia di grandi dimensioni. Non erano stati animali; le impronte confuse di un uomo avevano creato delle pozzanghere a distanze regolari. Si vedevano a malapena nell’oscurità premattutina, ma erano comunque inconfondibili. «Maledizione» mormorò Al. Uscì inutilmente per osservare il malfatto, inzuppandosi dopo pochi passi. Sei buche, tutte in fila. Il furbacchione indossava grossi stivali di gomma. Avrebbe dovuto dirlo a qualcuno, ma non avrebbe risolto gran che. Rinunciò. Fece una colazione leggera, non aveva fame. Era un brutto sintomo, ma non ci badò. Si vestì bene e uscì; sentiva il bisogno di muoversi. Avrebbe ignorato completamente la pioggia, per partito preso. Fece un lungo giro a piedi marciando con un ritmo regolare. Sentire il suo corpo che funzionava l’aveva aiutato quando la malattia l’aveva colto, anni prima. Non aveva capito subito cosa stesse succedendo; le cose più semplici erano diventate un problema, non riusciva ad affrontarle. Il matrimonio ne soffrì, ma lui non poteva ammettere di aver bisogno di aiuto, neanche a sé stesso. L’ansia era montata gradualmente, un’ansia senza motivo, permanente e terribile. Riusciva a fingere bene con tutti, ma dovette arrivare vicino al punto di rottura per apprezzare l’aiuto professionale propinatogli suo malgrado. Fu l’inizio di tante prove frustranti, nessun farmaco pareva efficace. Il fatto peggiore era che non poteva accorgersi subito se stava usando la medicina che faceva per lui; dovevano passare settimane prima che se ne vedessero gli effetti. Aveva trascorso buona parte di molte notti a occhi aperti, ascoltando il respiro lento e morbido di Lori. Lei percepiva la sua difficoltà senza riuscire a individuarne le cause, e Al si era guardato bene dal parlagliene; se la sarebbe cavata da solo, come sempre. Il lavoro, in quel periodo alienante, non giovava. Lori stessa non giovava; non era colpa sua, naturalmente, ma dover apparire il solito normale Al di tutti i giorni aggiungeva ulteriore stress. Riflettendo, il giovane si concesse un sorriso amaro; tutto sommato anche Lori non aveva saputo su di lui tutto quello che c’era da sapere. Al accelerò marciando tra una lunga pletora di abeti; fece un ampia curva, poi tornò indietro per un altro viottolo. Albeggiava. La luce fioca del giorno si fece spazio tra le nubi rischiarando il paesaggio. Era davvero un mondo bellissimo, questo, anche se sembrava impazzito. Al pensava a Lori di continuo, ora. Si domandava se anche lei era coinvolta in tutto quello che stava succedendo o se, come lui, aveva trovato un angolo di pianeta in emergenza, ma comunque un po’ più normale. Vide la sua casa che si avvicinava, passo dopo passo; non entrò, andò direttamente in garage, prese arco e faretra - se l’era fatta a mano, con la perizia di un vero pellerossa - e afferrò il bersaglio. Era di paglia compressa e pesava un accidente. Lo posizionò nel cortile dietro alla casa. Passò l’intera giornata a tirare con l’arco, in barba alla pioggia. Le braccia gli facevano male, era da parecchio che non si esercitava in maniera così intensiva. Mezzo pomeriggio era già trascorso quando si accorse che le sue mani tremavano. Non era la fatica. Le guardò come se non gli appartenessero. Rimise tutto al suo posto ed entrò in casa. Si abbandonò a una doccia bollente. Ric si strofinò alla porta del bagno; era stato trascurato tutto il giorno. Il campanello squillò mentre Al si stava vestendo. Con la dovuta calma il giovane andò ad aprire. Era Ron. «Non ti ho visto alla funzione, stamani» disse il commerciante. Gli era proprio sfuggita, la messa; Al lo condusse in cucina e mise al fuoco del caffè. Ron lo guardò di tralice; non aveva un bell’aspetto, quel ragazzo, ma non disse nulla. Al gli allungò un pacchetto di biscotti. Era la seconda volta che Ron veniva a trovarlo; era gentile. Al socchiuse gli occhi cercando di pensare; quand’è che erano diventati amici, loro due? «Dopo la messa c’è stata l’assemblea del paese. Ti faccio un riassunto della riunione. C’erano quasi tutti» cominciò Ron. Si mise a ridere «persino le sorelle fetide.» Al lo fissò senza capire. «Le chiamano così» puntualizzò Ron «Isabelita Gomez, moglie di Bo, e le due sorelline zitelle, Reia e Tia. Si fanno vedere molto di rado, qua in giro. Perché le chiamino fetide non lo so. Magari si lavano poco, ma non penso che sia una semplice questione di puzza. Non sono delle vere Gomez; quello è il cognome dei mariti. Ma vogliono comunque essere chiamate così. Fa molto clan, capisci. Dicono che qualcuno, un omone, gliel’aveva fatto notare. Del cognome, intendo. Ci mancò poco gli staccassero la testa dal collo.» Al non era molto interessato a quelle facezie e la sua faccia l’esprimeva bene. Tuttavia il giovane non poté esimersi dal pensare: “ma quanti diavolo sono, questi Gomez?” Ron recepì qualcosa dell’umore di Al, perché smise di ghignare e tornò col pensiero ai contenuti della riunione. Guardò al soffitto nello sforzo di radunare le idee. «I Gomez sono andati a caccia e hanno preso solo qualche tordo, a quanto dicono. Ovviamente sono prede loro. Nessuno si aspettava che condividessero con gli altri.» I due uomini sorrisero. «La mia radio sta esalando l’ultimo respiro» riprese Ron «ho fatto il mio bel rapportino scoraggiante al sindaco. Niente di nuovo dal mondo, i soliti disastri. Delle regioni qua attorno non si sa nulla. C’è voluto del bello e del buono per farlo intendere alla gente. Vecchi amici e parenti, capisci. E l’emporio ha ricevuto una visitina notturna.» Al sollevò un sopracciglio. «Cibo?» chiese. Ron annuì. «Qualcosina. Sono stati educati.» Al gli disse del suo orto. «Dovresti stare attento» disse Al «forse siamo solo all’inizio. Faresti bene a procurarti un’arma.» Ron scosse la testa. «Devono solo fare mente locale» disse «hanno bisogno di tempo. Diamine, ne ho bisogno anch’io. La nostra vera ricchezza sono i vicini.» «Unfff» fece Al «come i Gomez?» «Sono stati utili con la faccenda della dinamite.» Al non aveva voglia di imbarcarsi nella solita conversazione. «D’accordo» disse «ceni con me? Pasticcio di verdure.» Lo disse sperando che Ron non accettasse. Ebbe fortuna. «Non posso. Il sindaco vuole un inventario completo dell’emporio per domattina.» Al non insistette; forse Ron si era accorto che qualcosa non andava, e forse no. I due si salutarono. Al rimase alla finestra osservando l’effetto dei fari di Ron sulla pioggia battente. 12. Le campane della chiesa svegliarono Al di soprassalto. Non aveva dormito quella notte, era riuscito a prendere sonno solo verso l’alba. Ric, allarmato, venne a lamentarsi di quel baccano miagolando flebilmente. Al si guardò le mani; tremavano di più, adesso. I neurotrasmettitori del suo cervello stavano prendendosela comoda senza il farmaco che li pungolava. Si alzò e si vestì rapidamente. Non fece colazione, aveva un po’ di nausea. Senza pensare preparò la colazione per il gatto e uscì di casa. L’arancione del micio risaltava contro le finestre e le tende bianche mentre Ric seguiva attento la partenza del padrone. Al arrivò presto alla chiesa; intorno erano parcheggiate solo un paio di macchine. Pioveva, ma delicatamente. Le fosse non erano nemmeno troppo piene. Al entrò in chiesa guardando per la prima volta l’orologio; erano le sei del mattino. Si mosse tra i banconi, ma non vedeva nessuno. Poi vicino all’altare s’avvide di qualcuno in ginocchio; c’erano il sindaco e il signor Heinz, chini sopra un corpo. L’uomo disteso a terra era Ron. Al si avvicinò rapidamente. Ron era pallidissimo, aveva un grosso ematoma sulla fronte e sangue sui vestiti. L’avevano disteso sopra una spessa coperta e con un’altra lo mantenevano al caldo. Heinz teneva le gambe sollevate per favorire l’afflusso di sangue al cervello. «Cos’è successo?» disse Al. «Al» disse il sindaco «qualcuno è entrato nell’emporio, stanotte. Non credeva che ci fosse Ron. L’avevo mandato a fare l’inventario. L’hanno picchiato e accoltellato. Ron è riuscito a raggiungere la prima abitazione, quella del signor Heinz, ha bussato ed è svenuto.» Al si chinò sul poveretto; la botta in testa era bruttina, le ferite sul fianco e sulla schiena non erano profonde ma a giudicare dallo stato dei vestiti doveva aver perso molto sangue. «È debole» disse il sindaco «si è svegliato un paio di volte. Farfuglia, poi perde i sensi.» Heinz aveva un’espressione contrita. «Non avrei dovuto portarlo qui» confessò «ma speravo che ci fosse qualcuno che sapesse come curarlo. Non me la sono mai cavata bene in situazioni critiche.» La gente stava cominciando ad arrivare. Si stava formando un capannello di gente intorno al ferito. Il sindaco provvide a dire quanto sapeva dell’accaduto. Pablo entrò scuro in volto. Andò diretto dal sindaco. «L’emporio è stato svuotato. Tutto il cibo è sparito» disse «ma non solo. Piccozze, coltelli da caccia e tutto quello che può essere usato come arma è stato portato via.» Avevano sentito tutti. La gente cominciava a spaventarsi. «Pensiamo a Ron, adesso» disse Al. «Giusto» concordò il sindaco, ignorando gli strepiti dei presenti. «Portiamolo a casa mia» suggerì Al «non c’è assistenza sanitaria, qui. Una casa vale l’altra.» Il sindaco fissò il giovane per un momento. «No. Scusami, ma hai una brutta cera, Al. Non è il caso di gravarti di questo. È meglio se una di queste famiglie si fa avanti. Più persone in casa possono gestirlo meglio.» Il signor Heinz si avvicinò. «È venuto da me» disse «non l’ho cacciato, né ho intenzione di farlo adesso. Portiamolo a casa mia.» Così fu deciso. Mentre, con l’aiuto di Pablo, Al lo alzava delicatamente, Ron si svegliò. Era molto confuso; vide il giovane che lo teneva per le spalle e gli sorrise d’un sorriso cupo. «Non credevo, Al, non credevo…» bisbigliò, quasi incomprensibile. Fece per aggiungere qualcosa, ma sembrava che parlare gli procurasse dolore. A ben guardare, la lingua era gonfia e sanguinolenta. Il colpo in testa doveva avergli fatto chiudere la bocca di scatto con la lingua fra i denti. Da un vistoso taglio sulla fronte continuava a uscire sangue. Lo caricarono nell’auto di Heinz; aveva una familiare molto lunga e il viaggio era solo di qualche centinaio di metri. I tre uomini che lo portavano entrarono nel retro dell’auto con Ron. Il signor Heinz si mise alla guida e procedette lentamente verso casa. Il sindaco chiese a Pablo: «Chi sarà stato?» Pablo ci pensò un attimo. «Non me lo chieda, signor sindaco. Anche senza prove, sarei tentato di risponderle.» Nessuno disse altro, ma tutti pensavano a uno dei Gomez. L’auto sobbalzò, saltando una buca. «C’è un’altra cosa» accennò Pablo, con cautela. A giudicare dalla sua buffa espressione sembrava quasi che temesse di coprirsi di ridicolo. «Ecco… diverse signore anziane mi hanno chiamato; be’, mi chiamano tutti ultimamente, e per le cose più strane. Mi fanno correre. Queste signore erano molto turbate, sapete, dovevate sentirle. Da quando i telefoni non funzionano il mio ufficio è visitato dai più improbabili messaggeri. Per due spiccioli mi vengono a prendere e mi portano dal cittadino angustiato. Ne ho visti quattro, ieri…» «Pablo, sei peggio di Ron» fece il sindaco «spero che finirai col dircelo, prima o poi.» «Uh, scusate» disse Pablo «mi hanno chiamato per via dei loro animali da compagnia. Gatti. C’è che sono spariti.» 13. Dopo che ebbero sistemato Ron per benino, Al non voleva far altro che tornarsene a casa. Non si sentiva del tutto in forma. Il signor Heinz fu gentile; riprese la macchina e li riportò in piazza della chiesa. Al entrò nell’auto salutando il sindaco e il poliziotto. Fece per accendere il motore, che però non ne volle sapere. Era una macchina vecchia, certo, ma non l’aveva mai lasciato a piedi. Al provò ancora. Dopo molti tentativi l’auto tossì sempre più flebilmente; era un problema di batteria. Al imprecò e uscì dall’auto in tempo per vedere Pablo che gli sfilava a fianco. Al gesticolò e lo rincorse sollevando spruzzi di pioggia. Pablo rallentò e tornò un pezzetto indietro. Tirò un po’ giù il finestrino. «L’auto non parte» disse Al. Pablo gli fece segno di salire. «È troppo presto per il meccanico» disse «vieni, ti accompagno a casa. Ah, no, prima devo passare in un posto.» «Nessun problema» rispose Al. Normalmente avrebbe camminato volentieri, ma in quel momento le gambe gli sembravano pesanti come macigni. «D’accordo. Passo dai Gomez, è solo un attimo.» Era quasi interessante, per Al; in fondo era curioso di sapere dove stava quella specie di clan familiare che tanto faceva parlare di sé, per lo più male. Al non li aveva conosciuti tutti, sapeva solo quel che si diceva di loro. Pablo seguì la strada con attenzione, guidando lentamente; i dintorni erano gradevoli, le case comparivano da dietro piccole alture all’improvviso, mai troppo vicine alla strada. Ognuna era circondata da giardino. Arrivarono dopo un paio di minuti a un agglomerato di case a un centinaio di metri dalla via principale; lì c’era una strada secondaria sterrata che si dirigeva verso est puntando ai boschi. Pablo la imboccò, infangando la macchina di brutto. Rallentò, la carreggiata era tutta una buca, le pozzanghere innaffiarono i margini erbosi. Pablo si fermò in un ampio piazzale davanti a una casa bianca di legno; una bella casa, non molto ben tenuta, a giudicare dal portico stinto e l’assito punteggiato da chiazze di marciume marrone. «È la casa di Bo» spiegò Pablo spegnendo il motore «molti hanno pressato il sindaco perché venissi a controllare. Sai, per la faccenda del furto da Ron. Ma non sono stati i Gomez: quel mattino erano a caccia mentre accadeva il fatto. Lo so perché li ho accompagnati io. Aspetta qui.» Pablo scese dalla macchina; era a una decina di metri dall’ingresso. Il terreno era una fanghiglia appiccicosa. Con un rumore di sbaciucchio prese a calpestare la melma, che gli restava appiccicata alle suole facendolo sbandare. Concentrato com’era per non cadere si aggrappò senza attenzione al palo che reggeva la tettoia a protezione della porta d’ingresso. Incespicò leggermente, spostò il peso del corpo da un piede all’altro e tirò un sospiro di sollievo mettendo il calcagno sull’impiantito asciutto. Quel tocco bastò a insozzare un paio di metri quadri di pavimento. Pablo cercò di asportare il grumo di fango incollato alle suole, ma essendo quel che era riuscì nell’intento proiettando parte della zozzeria sulla porzione d’assito rimasta pulita. Al osservava da dentro alla macchina e non poté fare a meno di ridere. Pablo alzò gli occhi per dirigersi alla porta d’ingresso, in tempo per prendersi un gran colpo d’ascia in mezzo al petto. Al trattenne il respiro, seguendo la traiettoria del poverino che s’inarcò sulla schiena e piombò rumorosamente a terra. Il colpo gli aveva tolto il fiato e procurato certo un bel livido, ma niente di più: il manico dell’ascia, ora che Al lo guardava meglio, era senza lama. Pablo si lamentò, sdraiato a terra. «Stattene lì, brutto impiccione» disse la figura apparsa all’improvviso, imbacuccata per proteggersi dalla pioggia; era una voce roca e femminile. La donna brandiva il palo di legno minacciando altri colpi. Al uscì dalla macchina, andò a soccorrere Pablo. La donna fece capolino dal cappuccio dell’impermeabile e puntò l’asta verso Al, che l’ignorò. Pablo tossì un paio di volte, facendo segno che stava bene: nel taschino della giacca il taccuino e la penna si erano disfatti, ma avevano attutito il colpo. Il panciotto aveva fatto il resto. «Signora, sono Pablo…» mormorò il poliziotto, cercando di alzarsi. La donna, bassa e tarchiata, gli si avvicinò e, sorprendentemente, gli mise un piede sullo stomaco. «So benissimo chi sei» disse lei, e calcò la suola sulla pancia sporcandola di fanghiglia semi solida «quello che non so è che cosa vuoi, qui. A parte insudiciarmi il portico.» Pablo si mise in piedi. «Non capisco…» accennò «il mio è un controllo di routine…» «Be’, vallo a fare da un’altra parte» riprese il donnone arretrando di un passo, sempre sul chi vive «non ci piacciono quelli del governo. Non c’è più nessun governo, ormai. Ognuno per sé.» Pablo assunse un’espressione oltraggiata. La signora Gomez non gli permise di dire nulla. «Gli uomini sono fuori, a caccia» digrignò, quasi sputando le parole «non mi piace che qualcuno venga qui quando loro non ci sono.» Pablo non sapeva che dire; la donna, Isabelita Gomez, la moglie di Bo, lo pungolò col bastone. «Vattene» concluse. Un bambino sporco di marmellata fece capolino dalla porta d’ingresso, ma fu subito ricacciato dentro da uno sguardo fulmineo della madre. Pablo era a bocca schiusa, incapace di mettere insieme un discorso. Al gli batté sulla spalla. «Andiamo, Pablo» disse «non ci facciamo niente, qui.» Pablo si lasciò guidare all’auto; entrò, aspettando che Al gli si sedesse accanto. L’auto partì di slancio, fece una curva ampia e si reimmise nello stradone. «Isabelita Gomez. Non la capisco» disse Pablo «non avevo mai avuto problemi, coi Gomez.» Al sogghignò. «La gente cambia, specialmente nei momenti di difficoltà» disse «c’è chi tira fuori il meglio, chi il peggio.» «Bisogna che ne parli col sindaco» disse Pablo, più a sé stesso che ad Al «non si può lasciare a qualcuno queste libertà.» «Giusto» disse Al «ma attento di averne l’autorità.» L’auto rallentò. Ora Pablo stava cominciando a mettere a fuoco la situazione. «Rappresento l’autorità del sindaco.» «Non c’è autorità senza forza.» «Che vuoi dire?» «Tu hai la tua pistola. I Gomez hanno parecchio di più.» Pablo scosse la testa amareggiato. «Bisogna che ne parli col sindaco» ripeté. Continuò a guidare lentamente con espressione preoccupata. Erano quasi arrivati alla casa di Al, ma già da lontano fu evidente che qualcosa non andava. Il cancelletto era spalancato e un luccichìo dalle finestre evidenziò dei vetri rotti: qualcuno era entrato con la forza. Al saltò dalla macchina ed entrò in casa. «Maledizione» disse il giovane. Gli intrusi avevano fatto un macello; erano entrati con gli stivali sporchi di fango - sarebbe stato arduo fare altrimenti - e avevano disseminato materiale appiccicoso su tutto il pavimento. Pablo aveva seguito Al e contemplava l’inconsolabile vacuità del frigorifero saccheggiato. «Hanno preso quel che c’era» osservò Al «carne, verdure e formaggi.» Al girovagò per tutta la casa, vedendo che altro avevano combinato. Pablo lo seguiva come un cagnolino. Al si accucciò quasi a terra, osservando l’impronta di uno scarpone da montagna. Era particolare: oltre allo zig zag lasciato dalla gomma fangosa, si distingueva uno stemma al centro della suola. Una piccola coppia di ali fatte di limo restava ancora ben impressa sul pavimento in legno. Al si voltò verso Pablo: stava notando un’altra cosa. Afferrò il poliziotto per le braccia studiandone l’addome inzaccherato. Sorrise. Portò Pablo davanti allo specchio del bagno. «Avevi ragione, Pablo» disse Al «non sono i Gomez a rubare qua e là. Sono le mogli.» Riflesso allo specchio, Pablo contemplava l’impronta di due piccole ali di fango lasciatagli sul corpo dal piedone di Isabelita Gomez. 14. Ric non si trovava. Dapprima Al pensò che vedendo arrivare degli estranei il gatto fosse scappato all’esterno; andò a chiamarlo cercando nei dintorni: Ric detestava star fuori con la pioggia. Poi Al rientrò in casa e vide che mancava anche il sacco con la sua pappa. «Che se ne fanno di un gatto?» chiese Pablo. Al lo guardò scuro in volto. «Mai mangiato un gatto? Dicono che è buono come il coniglio.» «Oh, via…» borbottò Pablo. Diceva sul serio Al? «Perché no? Riserva di carne fresca, se finisce quella già macellata» disse Al «bisogna che me lo riprenda.» Pablo mise una mano sul petto del giovane, anche se lui non si era mosso di un millimetro. «Non pensarci nemmeno» disse il poliziotto «lascia fare a me. Adesso vado dal sindaco. Ci pensiamo noi. Manca solo che qualcuno vada a stuzzicare i Gomez al di fuori dei canali legali.» Al non aveva un’aria convinta; già lo vedeva, Pablo, che andava dal sindaco per raccontargli che aveva perso il suo gatto. Certo il sindaco ne sarebbe stato sconvolto. «Devi promettermi di stare tranquillo» ribadì Pablo «resta qui. Devo trovare il modo di vedere che combinano, nelle loro proprietà. Ne stanno succedendo troppe. Prometti.» Al era stanco; le mani tremavano di più, adesso; dovette nasconderle nelle tasche della felpa. Promise. Pablo lasciò la casa dopo altri rilievi. Al rimase a guardare lo spicinìo di vetri e lo sporco dappertutto. Avrebbe voluto sdraiarsi sul divano e fare finta di niente, ma si fece forza e ripulì ogni cosa; riparò il vetro alla bene e meglio usando abbondante nastro adesivo per pacchi. Almeno gli spifferi erano spariti. Una volta finito non riposò; prese a camminare avanti e indietro, frustrato dall’impotenza. Ric era la sua famiglia. Era solo un gatto, certo, ma sapeva far sentire la sua elegante presenza con slanci di affetto che Al non avrebbe creduto: si comportava più da cane, che da gatto. Avevano trovato il modo di comunicare incontrandosi a mezza strada; Al aveva imparato a dargli i giusti segnali con la voce e il linguaggio del corpo, Ric aveva cominciato a esprimere emozioni e intenzioni con miagolii che somigliavano sempre più a discorsi elaborati. Al scosse la testa, per non pensare. Pablo forse aveva ragione, era pur sempre il poliziotto del paese e meritava un po’ di fiducia. Con uno sforzo deliberato Al deviò i propri pensieri. Aveva ancora delle cose da leggere, l’ultima parte del diario di Lori. Afferrò un frutto lasciato lì dai ladri sbadati e cominciò a sbocconcellarlo. Prese anche il diario. Era quasi in fondo, ormai. Si sdraiò sul tappeto e iniziò a leggere. Passò buona parte del pomeriggio così, senza accorgersi del tempo che passava, finché non si rese conto con stupore che aveva finito. Il diario conteneva altre pagine, ma erano vuote; le scorse lentamente, per sicurezza. Quando stava per rinunciare incontrò un’altra pagina scritta. Era a lettere grandi e accurate, diverse nello stile dagli appunti di grafia lesta e piccolina che aveva appena terminato. Non c’era data. “Caro Al…” lesse. Si interruppe subito. Non si aspettava che ci fosse una lettera diretta esplicitamente a lui. Avrebbe potuto leggere quelle righe molto prima, se non fosse stato per l’acredine che gli montava ogni volta che pensava ai momenti passati. Lori le aveva scritte dopo che si erano separati. Non erano stati capaci di dialogare serenamente, in quel periodo. Era stato anche molto male, e lo sforzo fatto per evitare che Lori scoprisse della sua malattia l’aveva sfiancato. Al riprese a leggere mettendosi più comodo. “Caro Al, questo è l’unico modo che ho per dirti qualcosa. Comunicare tra noi è diventato troppo difficile. I giochi sono fatti, ormai: la separazione è ufficiale. Il modo in cui è avvenuta è quasi peggiore della separazione stessa. Una roba tra avvocati. Non mi sembrava che avessimo voce in causa, in questo. Ma non importa. Forse ti sei chiesto perché ho deciso di lasciarti. Mi è stato impossibile spiegartelo, finora; quando iniziavo il discorso perdevo il controllo di me. Non sono le cene fredde che mi lasciavi a consumare da sola mentre chissà dov’eri, o il tuo monumentale egocentrismo; nemmeno il tuo lavoro ossessivo. È che sono stata ferita abbastanza. Non riuscivo più a sopportarlo. Ho cercato di capirti, sempre. Credevo di conoscerti, ma col tempo sei cambiato, hai creato un muro invalicabile a difesa di una parte di te che nascondevi, mi hai lasciato fuori. Una volta parlavamo tanto e da quello capivo che avevi bisogno di me. Di cosa hai bisogno adesso? Non sono riuscita a penetrare la tua corazza e non ho le energie per continuare a tentare. Eppure ricordo quel ragazzo dai sogni un po’ irreali che amava chiacchierare: mi tormentavi anche la notte, persino se il giorno dopo avevo un’operazione. Ti ho sempre lasciato fare, è una delle cose che mi piacevano di te. Ti prendevi cura di me, allora, eravamo una famiglia. Poi, gradualmente, hai smesso di farlo. Non te ne faccio una colpa. Non ti faccio una colpa di niente. Forse non ero abbastanza, per te…” Al distolse lo sguardo per un attimo; socchiuse il diario e aprì un po’ di più le tende del soggiorno. Si versò un sorso d’acqua, guardandosi i palmi delle mani. Tremavano. Tornò a sedersi e riaprì il diario dove si era interrotto. “…C’è un messaggio che devo lasciarti; ma non voglio che tu reagisca sbottando sprezzante senza darmi tempo di spiegartelo, facendo uso di quell’aspra retorica in cui sei sempre stato maestro. Non devi demolirmelo, questa volta, così te lo scrivo. Puoi smettere di leggere, certo. È una scelta. Ma non lo farai, se non altro per curiosità, o forse per una forma di rispetto che sai di dovermi, perché ho sempre vissuto con te come compagna leale. Non sarò lì accanto a te per cercare di convincerti. Lascia da parte l’animosità. Leggi, semplicemente. Così, ecco il mio messaggio. Le persone sono importanti, Al. La famiglia è importante. La gente. Non dico per me. È importante per te. Io ti conosco o, almeno, voglio crederlo. Non ignorare le persone, faresti solo del male a te stesso. Ricordati perché hai cominciato a fare il giornalista. Hai sempre avuto bisogno di prenderti cura della gente, non fuggirla adesso. Chiunque ci sarà nella tua vita, non dimenticare che ne hai bisogno, hai bisogno di prendertene cura. Che altro siamo se non il riflesso negli occhi dell’altro? Sono gli altri a dirti chi sei, questo l’ho imparato da te; non rinunciare agli altri e gli altri non rinunceranno a te. Io non l’ho fatto, non ho rinunciato: ho dovuto solo andarmene per salvare me stessa. Tra noi è andata così: posso accettarlo. Ma non accetto che ti arrenda a quel che sei diventato. Ricordati com’eri. Se sei cambiato è forse perché hai dimenticato ciò che era importante per te ancor prima che la vita, con la sua complessità, ti distogliesse dalle cose semplici. Le persone, Al. La gente. Il resto non conta. Non perdere di vista questo, e allora potrai dare un nuovo senso alla tua vita; accanto a me non ci sei riuscito, hai scordato la tua stessa natura, i tuoi bisogni. Forse è anche colpa mia, forse non ero la compagna adatta. Non lo so, sarò sincera. Penso molto, in questo periodo, e ancora non riesco a elaborare tutto lucidamente. Ma di questo che ti scrivo sono certa: la gente. La famiglia. Sei fatto così. Lo so. Non dimenticarlo. Al, pregherò per te.” Al lesse di nuovo la lettera daccapo. Richiuse il diario e lo rimise a posto. Indugiò a lungo a guardare la pioggia che rigava i vetri con piccole perline traslucide. Era quasi ora di cena, le prime ombre della sera offuscavano il paesaggio. Non aveva fame. Con uno scatto improvviso, Al corse a prendere l’impermeabile e lo indossò rapidamente, ma con attenzione. Aveva un amico da salvare. Uscì di casa chiudendo la porta e prese a marciare sotto l’acqua. Il movimento lo fece subito sentire meglio. Raggiunse presto la chiesa, la oltrepassò; sbuffava lievemente, adesso, evitava le rare auto in movimento (ma dove andavano mai, quei tizi?) e costeggiò la statale per diversi minuti, ignorando le frequenti pozzanghere che s’insinuavano nell’asfalto crepolato. Camminando cercava di convincersi che quel che aveva deciso non era così idiota. Andare a stuzzicare quei bravi figlioli nella loro tana… era un po’ da pazzi, lo ammetteva. E Ric era un gatto. Ma Al era sempre stato un po’ picchiatello… e poi, quanto e come bisognava essere amici per offrire aiuto nel bisogno? C’erano delle cose che dovevano essere fatte semplicemente perché giuste; anche se magari c’era da affrontare dei poco di buono. E c’era anche il punto da non concedere loro: quanto si sarebbero approfittati della gente di Delora? Se qualcuno non cercava subito di stabilire un limite, un limite non ci sarebbe più stato. Che diamine, fare il furfante verso gli innocenti deve essere reso difficile. Al sollevò il capo, lasciando che un po’ di pioggia gli bagnasse il viso. Sorrise. Magari aveva torto marcio ed erano tutte balle. Forse aveva già perso il senso della realtà, forse la malattia era già arrivata appieno, disturbava la sua capacità di giudizio, deviava i suoi pensieri. Era stato così in passato; questa cosa gli alterava il modo di valutare il mondo e produceva dolore. Non il dolore di un calcio negli stinchi o di una coltellata. Non poteva essere localizzato, non sembrava fisico. Era una lama sottile che s’insinuava nell’anima rendendo insopportabile anche il quotidiano più pacato. Probabilmente, solo brutta chimica. Ma fiaccava lo spirito, tagliava le gambe. Al inspirò aumentando il passo per evitare che la sera incipiente, inscurita dal maltempo, lo cogliesse ancora sulla strada. Si guardò attorno lisciandosi le sopracciglia intrise di acqua piovana. Non rammentava esattamente dove doveva girare, ma la sua memoria funzionava soprattutto per immagini in queste faccende, così si mise tranquillo e procedette spedito, in attesa che la geografia dei luoghi gli dicesse qualcosa. Ecco, dopo qualche altro minuto di marcia riconobbe la deviazione e l’imbocco alla strada sassosa che aveva già percorso con Pablo. Le case dei Gomez erano un poco più in là, circondate da pozze e fanghiglia. Al fece dietro-front e tornò indietro per una ventina di metri, traversò la strada per porsi sul lato della carreggiata da cui spiccava la diramazione verso quei simpaticoni. Dal suo lato, dopo appena un paio di metri in cui erba e piante basse spadroneggiavano, iniziavano subito alberelli e qualche fusto fronzuto e massiccio, grondante goccioline furibonde. Al si fermò un attimo, ascoltandone il chiacchiericcio col terreno. Oltre non si vedeva proprio bene, ma le forme massicce di alberi alti e scuri facevano capolino tra gli scrosci. Allora lasciò la statale e s’avviò verso il bosco camminando tra i campi, evitando le chiome della vegetazione alta per non inzupparsi proprio del tutto; quando si trovò nel folto degli alberi scosse il cappuccio e si scoprì. I rami erano così fitti che la pioggia non riusciva a penetrare. C’era soltanto un gocciolio continuo qua e là, dove l’acqua trovava libero sfogo. C’erano molte pozzanghere, il sottobosco non riusciva a smaltire quella straordinaria e incessante precipitazione. Al aggirò l’insediamento dei Gomez senza vederlo; si trovava un poco più in alto, nel pieno della selva che lo circondava. Sapeva che c’erano cinque case, ognuna abitata dai uno dei cinque fratelli con la famiglia stretta e vari parenti. Dopo un po’ ne colse i primi segni, i camini fumavano abbondantemente. Al fu fortunato; la pioggia cadeva ancora più forte, ora, difficilmente l’avrebbero visto. Si avvicinò alla casa di Bin, la prima, vi girò intorno; l’abitazione non aveva garage, era piccola e priva di annessi esterni. Cambiò edificio, spostandosi ed evitando le finestre. Gli veniva voglia di strisciare come un commando; si sentì sciocco, e sarebbe stata una faccenda troppo umida, così proseguì camminando normalmente. Era quasi alla casa di Bo e Isabelita. Sorprendentemente in giardino c’erano i bambini, bagnati fradici ma felicissimi. Giocavano a rincorrersi facendo molto chiasso, ed erano molto sudici. Al si soffermò sul retro della casa, guardò dalle finestre; c’erano camere da letto, vuote. Si spostò sulla parete nord. I bambini avrebbero potuto vederlo. Si accucciò. Isabelita spalancò la porta d’ingresso all’improvviso, a tre metri dalla testa di Al. Abbaiò ai bambini, ingiungendo loro di ripararsi in casa. Questi, di malavoglia, rientrarono asciugandosi i piedi contro i pali del portico. La madre assestò loro un sonoro nocchino senza profferire parola. I ragazzini non si lamentarono. Entrarono correndo direttamente ai dolci in frigorifero. La porta sbatté lasciando Al da solo sotto la pioggia. Dopo qualche istante il giovane riprese a spostarsi, evitando le finestre. Era sul retro della rimessa ora, il posto più promettente; una costruzione grande e ben fatta. Dovette percorrere un pezzetto allo scoperto, con una sensazione di pizzicore alle scapole, infine si addossò alla prima parete dell’edificio; attese un secondo prima di entrare. Porse le orecchie; non si sentiva alcun suono provenire dall’interno. Aprì la porta con decisione e la richiuse dietro di sé. L’ambiente era un vero disastro; stracolmo di roba, non c’era quasi posto dove mettere i piedi. Molte cose erano senz’altro di Bo, ma Al poteva vedere il metallo netto e ben lavorato delle piccozze un tempo in vendita da Ron; c’erano altri articoli dell’emporio e anche del vasellame che veniva dalla sua stessa cucina, della cui scomparsa non si era nemmeno reso conto. La stanza dava su altre porte. Al le aprì tutte; un sacco di roba ammonticchiata premeva sulle pareti. In una stanza piccola c’erano tre grossi frigoriferi a pozzo. Al non li aprì, passò alla stanza accanto. Cinque paia d’occhi l’osservarono con interesse. Ric stava consumando dei croccantini; smise e venne a salutarlo, sgridandolo per il ritardo. Si strofinò alle sue ginocchia. Al si guardò in giro; sì, aveva visto una cesta di vimini all’ingresso. Andò a prenderla e ci infilò Ric; fece per andarsene, ma ci ripensò. Prese gli altri gatti, parlando con loro per calmarli. Coprì la cesta con un panno scuro, cercando di fissarlo in modo da non far passare la pioggia. I gatti erano tranquilli, al buio, ma uno di loro si lamentava per la paura. «Zitto, micio» bisbigliò Al. Prese tutto il cibo per gatti che trovò. Strappò una striscia di tessuto dalle tende luride e la passò tra le maglie della cesta. Era un’imbracatura primitiva, ma era meglio di niente. Aprì la porta e si guardò intorno. Nessuno. Fece il percorso al contrario saltando la disamina della casa di Bin. Aveva quel che voleva, adesso. Quando fu entrato nel bosco si sentì meglio. Prese la strada del ritorno marciando con ritmo regolare, e al contempo cercava di rassicurare gli animali spaventati parlando loro con voce pacata: c’era un po’ di trambusto lì dentro. Uscì dall’inerbato e calcò un piede gonfio di fango sulla superficie grigia della statale. Vi sbatté entrambi gli stivali, poi infilò sistematicamente tutte le pozzanghere che trovava per pulirsi le suole. Camminava lentamente, adesso. Iniziava a far buio; il sole non s’era mai visto, ma ormai anche la luminosità diffusa di quella giornata stava iniziando a scemare. Ric aveva da raccontargli qualcosa, lì sotto, ma Al non aveva ancora modo di dargli retta; sorresse meglio la cesta, proseguì il cammino senza fretta badando a dove metteva i piedi. Al si dette dello stupido per aver pensato male della sua stessa idea. Tutto sommato non era stato così terribile, né così rischioso. I Gomez si sarebbero irritati un po’, certo, ma non avrebbero dato gran peso alla scomparsa dei gatti. Forse non avrebbero neanche capito che qualcuno era venuto a riprenderseli. Ric era bravissimo a infilarsi nei pertugi più minuscoli, difficile trattenerlo in prigionia. Si rilassò e proseguì il cammino a cuor leggero. Arrivò a casa con l’oscurità quasi completa. Si sfilò gli stivali prima di entrare, abilmente, da equilibrista, forzando sul tallone con la punta dei piedi. Spalancò la porta e depose la cesta a terra con uno sbuffo di soddisfazione. L’aprì. Parecchie gambette leste saettarono in tutte le direzioni. Poi, quando si furono tranquillizzati, i gatti cominciarono una meticolosa disamina del nuovo ambiente. Al stese molti giornali in un angolo del gabinetto e li cosparse di segatura. Come lettiera poteva andare. Si rilassò un momento, ma non di più: cinque vocette invocavano la cena. 15. Era tempo di cambiare. Al ne era convinto. Anche se quella mattina la testa ronzava, anche se cominciava a sentire nelle gambe il genere di tensione che nel passato aveva preluso al peggio, sarebbe andato a trovare Ron; gli aveva dimostrato amicizia, quell’uomo, benché Al non avesse fatto niente per meritarla. Le persone sono importanti. Al se lo ripeteva da quando si era alzato. Suonava bene. Le persone sono importanti. Non fece colazione, troppa nausea. Ma non avrebbe permesso a quella bazzecola di impedirgli di fare quel che sentiva giusto. Per tanto tempo aveva vissuto lontano da sé stesso; dopo la scrittura di un libro, il suo primo vero libro, era tempo anche di questo. Lori aveva ragione, naturalmente. L’aveva avuta quasi sempre. Quando comparve in soggiorno fu accolto da un possente miagolio: testine baffute reclamavano coccole e cibo. Al dispensò loro entrambi, con moderazione, poi si vestì per uscire. Una pioggerella lieve nel primo mattino faceva sentire più freddo di quel che era. Aveva lasciato la sua auto davanti alla chiesa; una rogna quel guasto, ma in fondo non gli importava, non doveva andare lontano e poteva camminare. Prese la strada con decisione, sbuffando leggermente. Non c’era nessuno in giro, forse era più presto di quel che credeva. Non sapeva l’ora, erano anni che non possedeva un orologio, né sentiva la necessità di averlo. Marciò spedito finché non giunse alla chiesa, la oltrepassò e abbandonò l’asfalto per un viottolo sassoso che conduceva al villino degli Heinz. I dintorni erano ben curati, adorni di fiori e costellati da magnifici alberi secolari come un antico e splendido giardino. Il cottage era in mattoncini rossi e dotato di un numero esagerato di camini, che gli davano l’aspetto di una casa delle fate. Gli Heinz l’avevano comprato pieni di entusiasmo per la vita di campagna, ma non erano riusciti a integrarsi molto bene nella piccola comunità. Helmut Heinz era uno dei pochi che faceva l’orto, ma era privo di pollice verde: i suoi pomodori marcivano prima di maturare, le insalate restavano minuscole, i fagiolini erano pieni di pidocchi insensibili anche ai trattamenti più drastici. Comunque continuava a provarci. Ascoltava i consigli di tutti i vicini, che spesso ne sapevano meno di lui, profondeva tempo ed energie per lo più vanamente. Solo un’estate riuscì a ben figurare nella coltivazione delle zucchine; ma era talmente abituato a fallire che ne aveva seminate troppe e per settimane la famiglia si sorbì zucchine a colazione, pranzo e cena. Al arrivò nei pressi della casa, non sapendo bene cosa fare; era davvero presto, accidenti, rischiava di svegliare tutti quanti. Restò a cincischiare fuori la porta per un pezzetto, poi sentì un movimento nell’ingresso. Si avvicinò un poco, e solo allora notò che la serratura doveva essere stata forzata; era piena di graffi. La porta poi non sembrava più chiudere bene. Da un’ampia fessura la luce dell’ingresso filtrava all’esterno. Al si chinò verso la serratura, giusto in tempo per presentare la sua faccia allo scopettone della signora Heinz. La donna, con gli occhi spiritati, era apparsa d’improvviso sulla soglia munita di quell’arma improbabile, e minacciava seriamente di dare una spazzata al mento irsuto del giovane. Al fece un passo indietro; la signora lo riconobbe e lasciò cadere la scopa. Era agitata sul serio. «Signora Heinz…» accennò Al. La donna si mise una mano al petto senza profferire parola, facendogli cenno di entrare. La figlia entrò nella stanza di corsa fermandosi di botto di fronte ad Al. «Il mio papà si è fatto male» disse. Si vedeva che era spaventata. Al corse nella stanza adiacente. Helmut era a terra, la testa coperta di sangue; non era svenuto, ma neanche del tutto in sé. Vide Al senza riconoscerlo. Si alzò e lo afferrò per il bavero. «Gomez…» mormorò «Gomez…» Al lo rimise a terra, gentilmente; l’uomo rovesciò la testa e prese a osservare il soffitto. Al lo depose delicatamente sul cuscino portogli dalla moglie. «Cos’è successo?» chiese Al. La signora non riusciva a staccare gli occhi di dosso al marito. «Sono scesa da poco» disse «ho sentito dei rumori, l’ho trovato così. La porta era aperta.» Al cercò il bagno; prese un asciugamano, lo inzuppò d’acqua fredda e tornò dal ferito. Cautamente lo ripulì dal sangue che aveva insozzato faccia, collo e vestiti. Ora si poteva vedere una ferita lungo la fronte, dovuta all’impatto con un corpo lungo ma non tagliente, come un bastone. La botta era stata abbastanza forte da creare un bell’ematoma; circa nel mezzo la pelle era stata asportata e il sangue usciva lentamente da un’increspatura bluastra. «Tenga sempre bagnato l’asciugamano con acqua fredda» suggerì Al «cerchiamo almeno di non fargli venire un gran bernoccolo.» Helmut rimaneva inerte, ma cosciente; si lasciava fare tutto senza dimostrare dolore. Quello e i suoi occhi appannati spaventavano più della ferita. Al infilò la cucina e aprì il frigo. Era vuoto, i Gomez erano arrivati anche lì. Cercò del ghiaccio, ma non c’era neanche quello; allora andò in bagno, impregnò un altro asciugamano e lo mise sulla fronte del ferito a mo’ di turbante. Helmut ebbe un brivido di freddo ma non protestò. «Non possiamo restare qui» disse la signora «ho paura per mia figlia.» Al si guardava intorno con attenzione. Poi vide gli stipi di un armadietto dischiusi. L’armadietto era vuoto. La donna seguì il suo sguardo. «La fuciliera di Helmut» spiegò «c’erano le sue doppiette. Le comprò quando arrivammo qui. Pensava di diventare un cacciatore. Poi scoprì che non era per lui.» Al aprì due cassettini: c’erano gli involucri di parecchi pacchi di munizioni, vuoti. «Cibo e armi» mormorò Al. Le case dei Gomez non erano lontane; sembrava che l’alba fosse il loro orario preferito. Abitudine di caccia, evidentemente. «Verrete a casa mia» disse Al, d’impulso. La sua casa era probabilmente la più lontana da quelle dei Gomez. Erano già stati da lui e avevano preso quel che potevano, dagli Heinz forse no: Helmut doveva averli sorpresi mentre gli entravano in casa. «Non ho la macchina. Prenderemo la vostra. Più tardi andrò a parlare col sindaco e vedremo se la gente vorrà fare qualcosa.» La signora Heinz guardò Al dritto negli occhi. «Perché?» chiese. Al ricambiò lo sguardo della donna. Lui non era proprio l’ultimo ad avere un’idea del perché delle cose, ma certo si sentiva piuttosto in fondo alla fila. Non stavolta, però. Aveva un’opinione precisa sulle intenzioni dei Gomez. «Non lo so, signora» mentì. Helmut doveva sembrare una vittima ideale, mite com’era. «Ron dov’è?» chiese Al. «Di sopra» disse la bimba, avvicinandosi al giovane «è un gran dormiglione.» «Signora, porti la macchina qui davanti. Io vado a prendere Ron.» «Dovrà portarlo di peso. È messo male, non riesce neanche a parlare. Ha la lingua gonfia come un pompelmo. Ce la fa a portarlo giù da solo?» «Certo, signora.» La donna sorrise debolmente. «La smetta con questo signora. Mi chiamo Eva.» Al corse di sopra e per la prima volta poté dare un’occhiata più diligente al ferito. Ron dormiva; aveva un gran livido rigonfio sulla testa e quasi l’intero collo tumefatto. Il suo aggressore doveva aver provato a staccargli la testa a colpi di bastone. Ron si svegliò lentamente, forse aveva percepito la presenza di qualcuno che gli stava accanto. Salutò Al con un accenno di sorriso, che però si deformò in una smorfia paradossale; tentò anche di parlare, ma riuscì soltanto a mostrare una buffa espressione di sofferenza. Anche il solo tentativo di aprire la bocca doveva essere una tortura, immaginò Al. E chissà come mangiava. Al gli fece cenno di fare silenzio. «Va tutto bene, Ron. Ti porto a casa mia. Se puoi cerca di aiutarmi.» Al lo afferrò per le spalle, lo girò e se lo issò sulla schiena. Pesava un accidente. Il giovane scese le scale con cautela, facendole scricchiolare; l’auto era già lì, Eva Heinz teneva lo sportello posteriore alzato. Al depose delicatamente quanto poté il corpo dell’amico, poi andò a prendere Helmut. L’uomo lo fissava senza dire nulla, cosciente ma inerte, come se l’oltraggio della violenza subita gli avesse tolto ogni energia vitale. Il giovane si caricò sulle spalle anche lui e lo depose accanto a Ron. I due si osservarono senza parlare, con una bizzarra espressione di disgusto reciproco. Al si mise alla guida e la signora Heinz sedette accanto, con la bambina in braccio. Il viaggio fu breve e silenzioso. Al parcheggiò davanti a casa e ripeté il trasporto corpi al contrario. Aveva due camere con altrettanti letti; maledizione, entrambe al primo piano. Percorse le scale con più fatica di quel che dette a vedere e assegnò un letto a ciascun ferito. «Dormirete sui divani» disse a Eva «non ho altro.» «I divani andranno bene» disse la donna. Allontanarsi da casa propria le aveva fatto tornare un po’ di colorito. La bimba si lasciò andare a un gridolino di entusiasmo; sentendo trambusto i gatti erano passati in soggiorno. Ric si strusciò alle gambe del padrone, gli altri si mossero qua e là, incerti sul da farsi. Al si chinò verso la bimba. «Non so ancora il tuo nome, signorina.» «Mina. Hai dei gatti fantastici.» «Al. Bene. Che ne dici di prenderti cura di loro? Dopo ti dirò come si fa.» La bimba batté le mani, compiaciutissima. Si chinò ad accarezzare gli animali, che l’attorniarono in cerca di attenzioni. La mamma sorrise. Qualcuno bussò d’improvviso alla porta. Eva si preoccupò, sbiancando visibilmente, ma Al la rassicurò subito. «Certa gentaglia non bussa» sentenziò con calma. Si sentiva scalpicciare in maniera strana, là fuori. Come se fossero venuti a trovarlo un gruppo di amici dopo una notte di bisboccia. Be’, in fondo un tantino di apprensione poteva starci. Chi cavolo c’era, all’ingresso? Al aprì la porta cautamente. Era il sindaco, e sorreggeva un Pablo dall’aria sconvolta. Il povero poliziotto aveva un brutto livido sulla testa, evidente a causa della corta capigliatura. “Oh, no. Un altro” pensò Al. Il sindaco entrò frettolosamente aiutando Pablo a raggiungere il divano. Eva Heinz si mise una mano sulla bocca e condusse la bambina in un’altra stanza. Mina era così concentrata sui gatti che quasi non si accorse di nulla. Il sindaco ansimava. «Non sapevo dove portarlo» disse a fatica «ho pensato di andare dagli Heinz. Erano stati gentili con Ron. Ma ho visto la porta aperta e del sangue per terra. Mi sono messo alla ricerca della loro auto e l’ho vista parcheggiata qui. Loro stanno bene?» «Più o meno» disse Al «cos’è successo?» «I Gomez. Sono entrati in casa di Pablo e gli hanno portato via di tutto, anche la pistola di ordinanza.» «Non si curano neanche più di agire di nascosto» disse Al. «Già.» «Che ci fa alzato a quest’ora, sindaco?» L’uomo arrossì. «Be’, Pablo non può fare tutto da solo. Alla mia età dormo poco. Facevo una ronda notturna.» Al non disse niente; certo che di pazzi ne aveva in abbondanza, quel paese. Comunque, la sua casa si stava riducendo a un lazzeretto. «Le ferite alla testa sembrano andare per la maggiore, quest’anno» considerò Al, osservando la botta sul capoccione di Pablo. Era come quella di Heinz. Pablo girovagava con gli occhi, in preda a un evidente giramento di testa. «Me lo lasci qui» disse Al «non è il caso di muoverlo troppo.» «Sì, è stato un bel colpo» disse il sindaco. Al lo condusse a vedere anche Helmut Heinz e gli raccontò dell’accaduto. «Ti si è riempita la casa, Al» concluse l’anziano. «Non è un problema, questo. Il vero problema è il cibo. Io quasi non mangio, ma ora ho tre feriti, una donna e una bambina.» «Posso portarti dei materassi e qualcosa dalla farmacia. Ma hai ragione: il problema è il cibo. La gente non vuole dare a chi non ne ha; Pablo non ha niente in casa, e lo stesso io. Ma alla mia età il cibo è opzionale.» «So io dove andare a prenderlo» disse Al. Il sindaco lo guardò storto, ma non fece domande. «Hai una brutta cera, Al» disse soltanto. Il giovane aveva due borse sotto gli occhi con cui avrebbe potuto fare facilmente una grossa spesa. Al fece spallucce. «Dobbiamo fermarli. Questo lo sa, vero, sindaco? Continueranno a irrompere di casa in casa per assicurarsi di avere tutto il cibo e le armi. Prima o poi capiterà qualcosa di irreparabile.» Il sindaco assunse un’aria cauta e triste. «Non sai quanto hai ragione. Sono entrati anche nella camera della vecchia Flo, stanotte. Il figlio ha trovato la casa svuotata e la madre a terra in una pozza di sangue. Un colpo più forte del necessario. Non voluto, credo, ma il risultato è quello. La signora ha un fisico tenace nonostante l’età, sono sicuro che se la caverà bene. Ma è pura fortuna. Poteva finire in tragedia.» Al non sapeva che dire. Non conosceva quella Flo né il figlio, ma era comunque un altro fatto che colpiva. Il sindaco tentennò, come volesse evitare di trarre la naturale conclusione ma non potesse farne a meno. Fissò Al con intensità per un momento. Sospirò forte. «Spadroneggeranno. Lo so, Al. Ma non dispongo di un esercito. Proverò a parlare con la gente, stamani. Dubito che servirà a qualcosa. Abbiamo contro parecchi fucili e tipi senza scrupoli. Sai come funziona, lo spirito comunitario va a farsi benedire quando si tratta di fronteggiare una cosa come questa.» “La gente” pensò Al “a volte deve essere protetta anche da sé stessa.” «Lei pensi a portarmi medicine e materassi» sbottò il giovane d’impulso «al resto penso io.» Il sindaco lo riguardò storto, ma non disse nulla anche stavolta. O era proprio troppo stanco, o aveva il senso della discrezione più spiccato che Al avesse mai avuto modo di apprezzare. L’anziano andò verso la porta e con un cenno si diresse rapidamente verso la propria auto. Al lo guardò ripartire. Sapeva dove sarebbe andato; le campane della chiesa avrebbero cominciato presto la loro canzone. Eva ricomparve e dette un’occhiata a Pablo senza profferire parola. «Ne ho abbastanza» mormorò Al. Guardò la donna «vado a prendere da mangiare. Lei chiuda la porta e stia tranquilla. Per ora nessuno verrà qui, a parte forse il sindaco.» Eva gli prese un braccio con la mano. «Non so cos’hai in mente, ma non fare pazzie.» Gli aveva dato del tu; niente quanto una difficoltà comune rende amici così rapidamente. Al sorrise appena, poi scrollò le spalle. «Non le noterebbe nessuno. Ultimamente ce ne sono stati, di gesti folli.» Le strizzò l’occhio. Cosa avrebbe fatto? Non lo sapeva neanche lui; quel che sapeva era che rimanendo passivi a subire non avrebbero che peggiorato le cose. Si sentiva stonato e le mani gli tremavano, ma non era mai stato così determinato. 16. Al non poteva crederci; pioveva ancora. Era una specie di record. Non ricordava una stagione simile nel passato, né avrebbe scordato questa, anche se per ben altro. Prese la macchina di Heinz e si diresse all’insediamento dei Gomez; guidava lentamente, consapevole che stava facendo qualcosa senza capo né coda. Già, cosa stava facendo in realtà? Anche adesso che superava le ultime svolte prima di affrontare un rettilineo, e dopo quello i Gomez, non aveva idea di quel che avrebbe combinato. Agiva d’impulso. Non aveva un piano. Sempre che fosse davvero lui a prendere decisioni e non quello spiritello irrazionale che scaturiva dalle pieghe schizoidi della sua infermità, ora incontrastata. Però, era così sbagliato seguire l’istinto? Le cose migliori della sua vita era venute da quello. Come quando aveva conosciuto e sposato Lori; non sarebbe mai accaduto se non avesse seguito l’impulso di esprimere il suo apprezzamento nei suoi confronti, a dispetto della parlantina corrosiva di lei, scoprendo il fianco e prendendola quindi di sorpresa. E perché poi aveva perduto Lori? Per la sua mania di controllo, perché non voleva lasciarsi andare; doveva pilotarla, questa sua vita, il suo lavoro e, più in grande, doveva governare le opinioni altrui con letteratura facile e servizi convenzionali. E anche il suo rapporto con Lori aveva manovrato, rendendolo vacuo, artificiale. Una relazione di plastica. Non poteva ammettere la propria fragilità, soprattutto dopo l’insorgenza dei suoi disturbi. Aveva quindi eretto un muro e continuato così, finché il suo equilibrio non aveva fatto splat come un’ingente deiezione di mucca. Era stato l’istinto a portarlo a Delora, ad accogliere Ric. Era stato l’istinto a fargli scrivere il primo libro serio. Ed era stato il bieco raziocinio a rovinare matrimonio e salute. E adesso? Potevano esserci rischi, dai Gomez. Ma chi se non Al stesso era giusto li corresse? Non aveva molto da salvare, non sarebbe mancato a nessuno. I paesani potevano fruire del suo esempio, un impegno proveniente da uno che alla fine non aveva gran bisogno di profonderlo. Al se la cavava meglio di tutti loro, in quella situazione. Certo, non era un atto di coraggio il suo. Al non era un martire; i Gomez, per quanto malevoli, non l’avrebbero appeso per i pollici. Ma mostrare di fare qualcosa per gli altri fa bene anche alla gente guardinga che ti sta intorno. Le persone sono importanti. Al strinse i pugni sul volante. C’era poi quella bambina mai nata. Una piccola Lori. Rimuginava la questione da un po’, Al, in piccoli assaggi: non era in grado di digerirla tutt’assieme. Una cosa dura. Immaginò che fosse stato così anche per Lori. Una cosa dura. Diamine, lo era per lui, anche se ancora non era pronto ad ammetterlo. Allontanò il pensiero in un attimo, movimentava troppo del suo animo; fu lieto di vedere che la strada si raddrizzava e innanzi gli si parava un rettilineo scuro battuto dalla pioggia. Era quasi arrivato. Ormai conosceva bene il posto anche se il maltempo rendeva tutto nebuloso. Parcheggiò sulla statale, a una certa distanza, per uno spirito di prudenza non del tutto razionale. Fece l’ultimo pezzo a piedi, studiandosi i veicoli posteggiati di fronte alle abitazioni. Le auto in realtà stavano tutte davanti alla casa di Bo. Si erano fermate da poco, a giudicare dalla lieve nebbiolina che si diffondeva dai cofani. Al si portò verso l’ingresso della casa; per fortuna qualcuno aveva sparso abbondante segatura sul terreno, almeno non avrebbe rischiato di sporcare l’impiantito con i suoi stivali. La padrona di casa sembrava suscettibile, su questo. Dall’abitazione venivano i suoni di molte voci. C’erano gli uomini, dentro, che parlavano forte, gesticolando per descrivere chissà quale scena, e c’erano i bambini di tutte le famiglie radunati nel grande soggiorno, con Bin a far loro da bambinaia. Il pover’uomo non c’era abituato e avrebbe preferito senz’altro partecipare a qualche razzia. Al fece capolino dalle finestre, cercando di capire quanti adulti ci fossero. Be’, era inutile cincischiare. Doveva provare a comunicare con loro. Prendere tempo, magari, a beneficio di quelli del paese, finché qualcuno non fosse svegliato ritrovando un po’ di senso civico; i Gomez erano armati, ma erano pochi. Suonò. Dapprima parve che nessuno avesse sentito, Bin continuava a sorbirsi i battibecchi tra i bambini con aria sconsolata e non c’era traccia delle signore. Gli uomini però avevano smesso di vociare. Al sentì uno scalpiccìo dietro alla porta e cercò di assumere un’aria francamente amichevole. Bo spalancò l’uscio e lo fissò con sguardo interlocutorio; si vedeva che si sforzava di ricordare chi fosse quel tizio tanto adeguatamente inzuppato dalla pioggia. «Ah…» fece, Bo. Aveva collegato, ma era evidente che non gradiva la visita «… il ficcanaso amante dei gatti.» Come inizio era piuttosto scoraggiante; Al decise di far finta di nulla. «So facendo un giro per le famiglie» disse rapidamente, per timore di essere interrotto «quelle che non sempre vengono in chiesa.» Bo lo fissava con espressione imperscrutabile. «Ho una buona notizia» disse ancora Al, con forzata vivacità «tutto bene nel mondo là fuori. Presto verranno i soccorsi a darci un aiuto.» Bo fissò Al dritto negli occhi; benché fosse più basso di lui, Gomez era decisamente più robusto, e aveva un che nell’atteggiamento che impediva di sentirsi a proprio agio in sua presenza. Come se non ci fosse limite a quello che avrebbe potuto fare. «Che mi dici» disse Bo con voce incolore. «Già» disse Al «appena l’ho saputo sono venuto qui.» «Te l’ha detto il bottegaio, questo?» disse Bo, socchiudendo gli occhi. «No» disse Al «Ron non è in grado di parlare. Ha preso una botta in testa e non ricorda quasi niente degli ultimi giorni. Ma il sindaco sa usare la sua radio.» Una panzana. Ecco cosa cercava di rifilare. Se i Gomez avessero creduto che la gestione del territorio non era venuta a mancare, forse avrebbero rinunciato a tentare di ottenerne il controllo. «Che succede?» disse un uomo basso e grasso, che somigliava a Bo. Era comparso all’improvviso dietro alle sue spalle. Al lo riconobbe anche se non lo aveva mai visto molto in giro; era uno dei fratelli Gomez, il più giovane, non doveva avere più di vent’anni. Mac, si chiamava. «Dice che si sono sbagliati» spiegò Bo «che possiamo starcene tranquilli, perché qui verrà un sacco di gente portandoci doni. Come sta il gatto, Al?» Mac guardò il fratello senza capire, Al impallidì leggermente. Bo continuò. «Al ci ha fatto una visita, ma noi non c’eravamo. Così è tornato.» Bo non poteva essere sicuro che a riprendere i gatti fosse stato lui, ma certo era un candidato più probabile di qualche vecchietta afflitta dalla scomparsa del proprio micio. Comparve un altro fratello Gomez, alle spalle di Al. Sembrava che si sforzassero di prenderlo si sorpresa, quel giorno. Era il fratello scemo; Al non ricordava il suo nome, ma sapeva che se c’era da fare un lavoro di sacrificio, in quella famiglia toccava a lui. Non assomigliava alla stirpe dei Gomez; aveva una corporatura snella ed era alto quanto Al, ma lo sguardo era incostante e fugace, privo di espressione, come sapesse a mala pena di essere lì. L’uomo era bagnato come un pulcino ma non dava importanza alla cosa. Aveva un grosso fucile da caccia tra le mani e gli stivali inzuppati di fango; guardò Al senza interesse e si piantò davanti a Bo. «C’è una macchina, sulla strada. Sembra quella di Heinz» annunciò. Doveva essere una specie di vedetta. Al aggrottò la fronte; sentinella sulla strada, armi, i bambini riuniti in un’unica stanza. Aveva tutta l’aria di un’organizzazione stile militare. Bo sorrise. «Grazie, Loco. Sei venuto con quella, vero, Al?» Al non rispose. Gomez guardò i fratelli. «Vediamo un po’» rimuginò «accompagni qui il poliziotto. Ti riprendi i gatti. Te la fai col bottegaio e il tedesco. Vieni qui a spararci le tue fandonie. Mi domando quale sarà la tua prossima mossa.» «Nessuna mossa» disse Al, con calma «le cose si sistemeranno da sole, come ho detto. Questione di ore. Sei libero di non crederci. Ma questo non cambierà i fatti.» L’ostilità di Bo contagiò gli altri due fratelli. Tutti fissavano Al. «Le cose si sistemeranno, è vero» affermò Bo, parlando lentamente «a modo nostro. È il nostro paese, adesso.» Vi fu un certo trapestìo alle spalle di Al; le donne stavano uscendo dalla baracca dei gatti, dove avevano finito di sistemare la mercanzia frutto delle ultime ruberie. Isabelita era indubbiamente la leader; camminava in testa a tutte, impugnando il manico di un’ascia senza lama. Visto Al, prese a palleggiarselo tra le mani dirigendosi verso di lui. «Signora» disse Al. Il giovane passò in rassegna i volti dei presenti. Incredibilmente tutti cambiarono espressione. Anche Bo mise da parte la sua tracotanza e mostrò un certo disagio: avevano decisamente paura di lei. La donna non disse nulla. Manovrò con abilità il suo bastone; Al ne seguì le notevoli evoluzioni, finché quello non gli colpì il polpaccio sinistro strappandogli un urlo più di sorpresa che di dolore. Il giovane mise un ginocchio a terra, incapace di sostenere il proprio corpo con la gamba offesa. Isabelita sorrise. «Bene, un po’ di rispetto» disse. Poi assunse un’aria cupa. «Meglio di quando sei venuto di soppiatto a prendere quello che è mio. Non mi piace chi si introduce in casa come un ladruncolo.» «Non piace neanche a me» mormorò Al, massaggiandosi la gamba. «Che dici?» fece Isabelita. «Come spiegavo a suo marito, signora, le cose non sono così brutte come credevamo. Il tempo sta cambiando e gli aiuti verranno presto. Libereranno le strade e ci metteranno in condizione di lasciare la valle.» Isabelita lo fissò come avesse detto un’eresia. «Lasciarla? Questa è la mia valle, adesso, e non verrà proprio nessuno.» Assunse un’aria furba. «Sì, capisco perché lo dici. Il sindaco ci vuole tenere tranquilli per avere tempo di organizzare una polizia civica. Tempo buttato. Il paese è pieno di smidollati.» «Smidollati senz’armi» puntualizzò Bo. «Lo saranno» lo corresse la moglie «quando avremo fatto visita a tutti quanti.» Al inspirò profondamente. «È così, allora.» «È così» disse Isabelita Gomez, giocando col bastone «per un ordine che se ne va, un nuovo ordine viene. Il mio. In tempi difficili sopravvivono i più forti e i loro figli. Gli altri campino pure. Con le briciole.» Il giovane guardò la donna sforzandosi di non esprimere un moto di dileggio; Isabelita non era molto credibile, come regina di Delora. Allora si rese conto che non li avrebbe mai convinti; era un’idea stupida sin dall’inizio, quella di farli ragionare. Non gli restava che andarsene di lì tutto intero. «D’accordo» disse Al «io ve l’ho detto.» Fece per avviarsi, ma Isabelita non era d’accordo. Gli puntò il bastone contro lo stomaco. «Rivoglio quello che hai preso» disse «entro un’ora. Le risorse di questo posto le amministro io, adesso.» “Questa qui rivuole i gatti, ma in realtà non le interessano affatto” pensò Al. “Un atto di sottomissione, ecco cosa pretende. Povero Ric.” Scostò il bastone lentamente. «Signora» disse. Fece un accenno di saluto agli altri e s’incamminò verso l’auto, seguito dal Gomez sciroccato. Al non era molto contento: l’ultimatum di Isabelita non gli lasciava scelta. Cercò di ragionare ignorando la tensione; stare come stava gli faceva apprezzare la vita altrui come mai, e disprezzare la propria. E poi i Gomez avrebbero continuato a imperversare nel paese facendo del male a chi capitava loro sotto mano finché non fosse giunta la polizia dalle città vicine. Quanto tempo doveva passare prima che altrove si rendessero conto che lì a Delora c’era qualche problema serio? Forse in quello stesso momento qualcuno si stava dirigendo lì. Forse l’area lì attorno non era così mal messa come altre zone del pianeta, c’era ancora un governo efficiente a gestire la situazione. Nel frattempo? Dopo che lui se ne fosse andato i Gomez sarebbero tornati in caccia, rischiando di fare vittime innocenti. Prima o poi il morto ci sarebbe scappato. E poi, visto che lui avrebbe ignorato l’ordine dei Gomez, sarebbero venuti a casa sua per una spedizione punitiva? A casa sua, attualmente rifugio di tre feriti, una donna e una bambina. Se poteva fare qualcosa, era il momento di provarci adesso. Non per fermarli, erano troppi e ben armati. Per rallentarli. Al continuò a camminare ed entrò in macchina sotto lo sguardo vigile del Gomez meno accorto, che Bo aveva chiamato Loco. Al accese il motore e abbandonò l’acciottolato per l’asfalto della statale. Prese la strada del ritorno. Dopo un paio di curve, al riparo da occhi indiscreti, uscì dalla strada e parcheggiò sotto un boschetto di pini. Spense il motore e scese dall’auto. Aprì il portello posteriore ed estrasse uno zainetto; se lo infilò. Prese il suo arco e se lo mise alle spalle; afferrò e legò la faretra tra le scapole, scostando lo zaino. Rimase in paziente attesa. 17. Sembrava incredibile ma stava spiovendo. L’aria era ancora satura di umidità e nel bosco pregno l’acqua gocciava e capriolava dagli alberi fino a terra. Ai suoi margini, Al aspettava. L’uomo aprì il cofano del motore e staccò un paio di fili elettrici, quel che bastava perché nessuno potesse metterlo in moto; poi richiuse e serrò gli sportelli, infilandosi la chiave in tasca. Guardò l’orologio; questione di minuti. Liberò l’arco e ne provò la corda. Incoccò una freccia e studiò la distanza dalla strada. Una ventina di metri, forse meno. Aveva un margine di errore accettabile; un’auto gli sarebbe passata davanti offrendogli il fianco per almeno due tiri. Prese un pezzo di pane dallo zaino e si mise a sgranocchiarlo, più per nervosismo che per fame. Dovette rimetterlo a posto quasi subito; il rombo di un motore in accelerazione segnava la fine del tempo che era a sua disposizione. Aveva sperato che in quell’ora succedesse qualcosa di buono, magari che qualcuno si facesse strada con le ruspe al passo nord e comparisse in compagnia di ambulanze e polizia, ma non era successo nulla. L’auto comparve quasi subito; era un camioncino dei Gomez, si vedevano due persone a bordo con due fucili appoggiati ai sedili posteriori. Al tese l’arco, poi imprecò; le auto erano due, la prima era seguita dal fuoristrada di Bo. Prese bene la mira; non era abituato a colpire bersagli in movimento. Scoccò, mirando alla ruota anteriore del camioncino. Bin, alla guida, sentì un colpo metallico vicino alla ruota e rallentò per un momento, allarmato. La freccia aveva colpito il mozzo della ruota, il centro esatto; un tiro inutilmente perfetto. Troppo ritardato. La cautela di Bin consentì ad Al di prendere un’altra freccia e scoccare prendendo di mira la ruota posteriore, stavolta tenendo conto della sua velocità. La gomma esplose con un gradevole fragore; il camioncino sbandò e Bin schiacciò il pedale del freno con tutta la sua forza. Il veicolo fece una mezza piroetta e si fermò di traverso, occupando entrambe le corsie. Bo non riuscì a evitarlo e urtò il muso del camioncino facendolo roteare di novanta gradi e riportandolo in carreggiata. Le imprecazioni dell’uomo giunsero fino al giovane, che incoccò un’altra freccia: il tiro era facile, adesso. La punta d’acciaio si conficcò nella ruota posteriore destra del fuoristrada, che si inclinò leggermente da un lato. Era tempo di squagliarsela. Si mise l’arco in spalla e lasciò l’auto di Heinz incustodita. I Gomez vociavano per strada, cercando di capire cosa fosse successo. Videro le tre frecce; Bin, incredulo, strappò quella dalla ruota di Bo e la mostrò al fratello. Questi entrò in macchina e prese il fucile, subito imitato dagli altri. Al ci stava dando dentro; doveva far perdere le sue tracce, ma non troppo. Camminò, quasi corse per duecento metri, poi attese che i Gomez si accorgessero della sua auto parcheggiata e facessero due più due. Li vide cercare le sue impronte sul terreno. Erano facilmente visibili in quel punto. Contò quattro uomini, il Gomez sciroccato era rimasto di guardia alle abitazioni. La terra era tutta fanghiglia. Lo spirito della caccia li prese; imbracciarono i fucili, lieti di quel diversivo, e sorridendo si sparpagliarono dirigendosi verso Al. Il suolo si faceva più irregolare, dove si dirigeva il giovane; era una zona che lui conosceva bene, ma la conoscevano anche i Gomez, dato che era vicina a casa loro. Al lasciò altre impronte, sempre più rade, finché cominciò a calpestare tutto quanto vi fosse di solido. Il sentiero era roccioso adesso, impossibile seguire le tracce. I Gomez si distanziarono ancora, rimanendo a portata di voce. Al correva mentre i Gomez perdevano tempo a guardare per terra. Il terreno saliva. Ora Al poteva vedere le case dei Gomez ammucchiate là in basso. Sterzò bruscamente verso le case, al riparo degli alberi. Corse più silenziosamente possibile sul crinale, discendendo e sperando di arrivare giù prima che il più decentrato dei Gomez lo intercettasse dal suo lato. Al correva accovacciato ora, una cosa scomodissima, con la punta dell’arco che strusciava sul terriccio bagnato minacciando di farlo cadere. La schiera dei Gomez era in vista ormai. Mac era l’ultimo della fila; Al lo vide per primo e si accovacciò contro il tronco di un albero per non farsi vedere; poi strisciò, sdraiato nel fitto fogliame asciutto, evitando le gore di fango che l’attorniavano. Mac era a una trentina di metri, ma era lento. La salita, tutta quella ciccia e la sicurezza di chi è ben armato lo rendevano meno vigile del necessario. Al non poteva più strisciare, l’avrebbero sentito; intorno a lui c’erano molti rami caduti, anche di discrete dimensioni, vittime del maltempo. Raccolse più rami che poté, sedette con la schiena contro l’albero e si cosparse le gambe di foglie cadute, poi mise i rami a protezione del busto. Era un tentativo balordo, se ne rese conto troppo tardi, ma per fortuna Bin non si dirigeva lì. Gli passò a circa dieci metri di distanza, sufficienti per rendere quel nascondiglio efficace. Al era stato abbastanza rapido da evitare la rete dei Gomez, in fondo. Lasciò che i fratelli procedessero in quella direzione per qualche altro minuto, poi si alzò e corse verso l’agglomerato delle loro case. Scese di corsa il declivio. Non rischiava più di farsi sentire, così accelerò ancora e raggiunse la casa più lontana dalla strada. L’aggirò con cautela spiando l’interno attraverso le finestre. Nessuno. Corse verso la casa di Bo, preoccupato perché non vedeva il quinto fratello né le donne. Nel soggiorno di Bo stavano i bambini e due signore a sfaccendare, un’altra era in cucina a preparare da mangiare. Bene. La quinta donna fu sul punto di sorprenderlo vicino al capanno dei gatti; ne uscì bruscamente, portando un fagotto verso la cucina. Era un po’ del cibo che i Gomez si erano procurati a modo loro. Al si defilò appena in tempo, la lasciò entrare, poi sbirciò dalla finestra del capanno e vide Isabelita che stava sistemando pacchetti dentro a uno dei tre grossi congelatori. Non poté resistere; voleva essere certo che i Gomez dessero la caccia a lui e a lui solo finché avessero retto loro le forze, e ora aveva l’occasione per garantirselo. Entrò nel capanno e riaccostò la porta. Di soppiatto si avvicinò alla stanza dove stava Isabelita. Fu più forte di lui, era illogico e pericoloso, ma quella era pur sempre una donna, grassa e molto bassa. Al entrò. Isabelita si voltò e in un attimo la sua espressione passò dal compiaciuto all’iracondo. Al sorrise, ma subito perse il buon umore; il bastone di Isabelita, che evidentemente lei teneva sempre con sé, sibilò a un palmo dalla sua testa. Fece un balzo indietro e la donna lo seguì muovendo il legno in maniera fluida; lo mancò di nuovo, distrusse un paio di mensole e i vasi che ci stavano sopra. Al si allontanò da quella furia ma la donna lo incalzò e sferrò un altro attacco; Al saltò di lato appena in tempo. Il bastone roteò intorno al corpo di Isabelita e comparve dall’altro fianco dirigendosi verso la testa di Al. Il giovane fece un altro balzo indietro, colpendo la parete divisoria con le scapole. La donna proseguì il movimento portandosi il legno sulla testa, ma Al ne aveva abbastanza: anticipò il colpo e afferrò con la destra il manico d’ascia che scendeva su di lui, bloccandolo. La donna cercò di liberarlo strattonandolo con ambo le mani, ma Al contrasse i muscoli induriti dall’uso dell’arco. Per un attimo i due si guardarono negli occhi. «Fa più male a te che a me» mormorò Al. Non valeva gran che con la sinistra, ma il pugno che sferrò venne proprio bene: Isabelita, stupefatta, lasciò il bastone e piroettò goffamente all’indietro senza controllo. Colpì dei sacchi di farina con la faccia, rimbalzò e cadde a terra, biancastra a chiazze, incapace di muoversi. «Lesa maestà» mormorò Al «ora sì che mi darete la caccia.» Prese il bastone della donna e fece per buttarlo, poi ci ripensò: si adattava benissimo agli spazi nella faretra e ce lo infilò. Un rumore nella stanza accanto gli disse che la donna diretta in cucina stava tornando. Si allontanò dalla porta; la donna entrò, cercando Isabelita con gli occhi, poi si accorse di Al e della strana posizione che aveva assunto la moglie di Bo. Mandò un grido soffocato. Al le fece segno di fare silenzio. «È il mio paese» disse Al, che a questo punto si divertiva. La donna lo ascoltava come ipnotizzata «voi Gomez farete bene ad adeguarvi, se non volete che vi capiti qualcosa di brutto. Capito?» La donna fece di sì con la testa, remissiva. Al aveva sempre sognato fare la parte del cattivo, sin da quando, bambino, aveva partecipato alle recite scolastiche. Ma era troppo paffuto ed educato e aveva perso tutte le occasioni. Be’, avrebbe perso anche questa; non c’era gusto a spaventare quella tizia. Con Isabelita sarebbe stato diverso, ma non era del tutto sicuro che lei potesse rimanere impressionata dalle sue sciocchezze: era fatta di tutt’altra pasta. Fece segno alla donna di occuparsi della contusa che, cosciente, gli fissava i piedi con sguardo vitreo. Al se ne andò senza voltarsi indietro. Nel piazzale c’erano quattro auto dei Gomez. Al estrasse una freccia e punzonò tutte le gomme, che si afflosciarono. I veicoli era inservibili per il momento. Dalla porta della casa uscì un’altra delle donne, incuriosita dagli sbuffi delle gomme che si sgonfiavano. Quando vide Al corse in casa e ne riuscì quasi subito con un fucile. «Oh oh, signora, parliamone» disse Al, a distanza di sicurezza. Quella era una doppietta a rosa larga, oltre i trenta metri non era in grado di ammazzare nessuno. Il giovane comunque si allontanò verso la strada e la donna, con evidente goffaggine, sparò un colpo prendendo di striscio un’auto. Al incoccò una freccia e corse verso la strada. Come si aspettava, il quinto fratello comparve di corsa: aveva sentito lo sparo. Al era pronto, mentre l’altro correva impugnando malamente la sua arma. Loco rallentò per prendere la mira, ruotò la bocca da fuoco verso Al; il giovane era ancora in vantaggio, ma solo per pochi istanti. «No!» gridò Al. Gomez stava puntandogli il fucile verso la pancia; quando Al fu certo che l’altro avrebbe sparato scoccò, mirando in basso. Lo sciroccato dette un muggito di dolore, quasi lasciandosi cadere il fucile; la freccia gli aveva trapassato la coscia. Al pensava di averlo messo fuori gioco, era una ferita che faceva sicuramente un male del diavolo. Ma quello non accennò a rallentare; adesso aveva un’espressione rabbiosa, quasi selvaggia, e brandiva il fucile come fosse un’ascia. Al incoccò una seconda freccia e valutò se colpire il braccio che teneva il fucile; Loco in realtà sembrava aver scordato di averlo in mano, continuava a correre fissandolo con gli occhi spiritati. Al senza mirare tirò d’istinto e trapassò anche la seconda coscia. Stavolta Loco non emise lamento; corse più forte, ormai vicino. La terza freccia gli trapassò il piede, sbilanciandolo; l’uomo scivolò e cadde a terra, gridando di rabbia. Al non voleva uccidere; prudentemente si allontanò, si mise l’arco sulle spalle, raggiunse la strada e valutò un momento se correre verso il bosco che si inerpicava sulle colline. Quasi fermo, il giovane sobbalzò al colpo di fucile. Una lunga striscia grigia aveva graffiato all’istante la strada, a due metri dai suoi piedi. Sulla collina alle sue spalle, i Gomez stavano tornando alle macchine, quasi certi di aver perso la preda, quando avevano sentito gli spari vicino alle loro case. Al era in una pessima posizione, ora: correre verso i boschi lo metteva allo scoperto per un lungo tratto, tornare indietro lo riportava da Loco. C’erano le auto abbandonate, più avanti, in mezzo alla statale e con le portiere ancora spalancate; al corse verso quell’unico riparo mentre un altro proiettile sibilava vicino alla sua testa; i Gomez vociavano allegri, adesso, vedendo che la sorte dava loro una mano. Al raggiunse il camioncino; aveva la bauliera aperta ma per quello che aveva in mente non andava bene. Passò allora all’auto di Bo; aprì il bagagliaio posteriore, quindi aggirò il veicolo ed entrò nell’abitacolo. Un colpo di fucile colpì il finestrino del passeggero e una gragnuola di vetri rimbalzò dappertutto, depositandosi in prevalenza sul seggiolino accanto ad Al. Il giovane era fortunato, le chiavi erano nel quadro; quasi ci contava, in realtà, dato che Bo era stato troppo preso dalla bramosia di acchiapparlo per curarsi del resto. L’auto partì subito. Il giovane dette gas e urtò brutalmente il camioncino a più riprese per farsi strada. Il muso dell’auto si deformò, i fari si sgretolarono sul paraurti del van. Un alto grido di rabbia si levò dalla collina mentre gli altri Gomez, incuranti della furia del fratello maggiore, sghignazzavano commentando le manovre di Al; era evidente che pensavano che il giovane fosse in trappola, qualunque buon tentativo avesse in mente. Un colpo di fucile fece saltare lo specchietto retrovisore. Un altro prese la ruota di scorta nel bagagliaio, che si afflosciò lentamente. Al spintonò il camioncino, mentre le ruote slittavano sull’asfalto umido. Il mozzo della ruota forata cominciò a fumigare per l’attrito. Al riuscì a farsi largo mentre il gruppo in caccia scendeva lentamente verso la statale; l’auto finalmente accelerò, sbilenca, con lo sterzo che rispondeva a metà, sculettando qua e là. Il giovane si stava allontanando. Fece una centinaio di metri arrotando l’asfalto, poi quattro fucili tuonarono tutti insieme. Al porgeva il tergo adesso, protetto in certa misura dal cofano spalancato del baule; ma i proiettili schizzarono più in basso, rimbalzarono sul terreno e andarono a martoriare gli pneumatici. Esplosero tutti. Al arrancò per venti metri, e per altri venti, mangiando ciò che restava delle gomme. Ma era arrivato dove voleva: uscì di strada e visto che non avrebbe mai potuto fuggire, si proiettò contro i margini della stessa boscaglia da cui venivano i Gomez, duecento metri più in là. Ruotò la macchina con una derapata soddisfacente e colpì il primo tronco d’albero con il retro della vettura. Ora porgeva il muso ai Gomez. I fratelli si fecero un segno d’intesa; non l’avrebbero lasciato scendere. Camminando con sicurezza, uno alla volta sparavano alle portiere e al lunotto anteriore. Al si chinò per schivare i colpi, strisciò sui sedili posteriori proteggendosi gli occhi dagli infiniti frammenti di vetro e metallo. Bo arrivò all’auto per primo, spalancò la portiera puntando il fucile prima sul sedile del guidatore, poi su quelli posteriori. Bestemmiò alacremente. Al non c’era. I sedili posteriori erano rovesciati, Al era passato nel portabagagli e da lì all’esterno, defilandosi nel bosco mentre loro si divertivano a sparare alla sua auto. * * * Grazie per aver letto la versione LIGHT di questo racconto. Ci auguriamo che tu possa averlo apprezzato a tal punto da voler proseguire la lettura: in fondo è proprio questo lo scopo delle versioni “Light”. Se così non fosse, siamo comunque lieti che tu abbia trascorso qualche ora in nostra compagnia e ci auguriamo che tu voglia approfittare ancora delle nostre edizioni Light (ce ne sono tante!). Se invece, come speriamo, hai apprezzato il racconto fin qui letto, ti invitiamo ad acquistare la versione integrale: dall’ebook potrai anche scaricare l’audiolibro realizzato con voce umana. E se proprio non vuoi, almeno parla di quest’opera in rete, consigliala ai tuoi amici. Vorremmo anche segnalarti la possibilità di leggere gratis i nostri ebook in versione integrale: esiste un gruppo chiamato CORREVOCE che ha la funzione di biblioteca privata, tramite il quale potrai leggere gratis tutte le nostre pubblicazioni, in versione integrale. Vieni a trovarci su www.quellidized.it Di seguito c’è la versione integrale del racconto tradotta in inglese con traduttore automatico (traduzione IBRIDA), che attende di essere corretta con ZEd Lab. Se consci bene l’inglese e hai voglia di metterti alla prova, prenota l’elaborazione di questo lavoro in ZEd Lab: una volta terminato, la versione inglese corretta verrà sostituita a quella ibrida e tu guadagnerai la tua quota sulle vendite dell’ebook. Approfondisci l’argomento su ZEd Lab: www.quellidized.it/zedlab Versione AUDIO: L’audiolibro è disponibile per il download all’interno della versione integrale di questo ebook. # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # Luca Poggi The last rain The last rain Copyright © 2012 Zerounoundicis Editions ISBN: 978-88-6578-135-7 In cover: Image Shutterstock 1. It started to rain on damned Tuesdays of a light and constant rain. The tall pines of the valley him quickly imbibironos of water transuded, puffing fogs of it of vapors and dripping droplets from the point of the needles. The valley slowly took to smoke and its breaths wound careful the inhabited area. Delora was a small incoherent country, with a nucleus of brought closer buildings turned to shops and residences; the rest of the houses was shed in the outskirtses of the principal road, for the truth the only one, that longitudinally crossed the valley. The house of Á. the was dark slightly aloft of the others; I know proud, in his/her lumber of dark and uneven beech tree, you want for the time that for the I know many patches, erect to bastion of to low hill and sharp pain of chestnut trees, with mute the leafy branches that ran after him to competes for himself/herself/themselves shreds of sky. The nature was mutable and interesting; the first time that Á. the happened down there it had mistaken road because of the maltempo, years before, and you/he/she had been spellbound. You/he/she was detained, attracted by the landscapes and by the mining museum. Also that, to his/her way, it was suggestive. Many years had passed from when there had been the most resonant scandal of the region: imprudent geologists had wandered about for that desolate moor decreeing the opulence of the subsoil of it. Gold and silver. The technicians maintained him on the vague one, I won't dictate precise indications, they didn't trace X on the maps: someone thought pits because they wanted to be their to earn us on; but an accident aerial layings end to their life prematurely. Of them gossips and inaccurate accounts remained only. This was not enough, nevertheless, to discourage poor thing and dreamers, that took to sound the river and to dig the earth demolishing trees to raise the first huts. After six months of searches the river had made only excellent trouts, the earth excellent cabbages. Other geologists arrived, that beautifully denied the precedents colleagues; but by now the nucleus of the country it was almost formed. The people, not without traumas, it abandoned the idea to become rich; after a reasonable period of peaceful indignation, it passed to the anger, then to the aching silence and therefore to the resignation. Some, those that kept on feeling himself/herself/themselves missed nababbi, went elsewhere for cercar fortune; but the most greater part remained to keep on living from common deadly. The media didn't allow the by now ex seekers to be him of it in peace. They started to pick around them up. But the fellow townsman had a discreet idea: they made a commemorative museum to celebrate the erratic destiny that had conducted them in such a beautiful place; you/they had not found you wealth, but to be there was magnificent however. They inaugurated him/it with discreet pomp, publicly thanking God because the gold there was not and nobody would have defaced that beautiful places that now they called house. Rhetoric some becera, but it played again in the hearts. Also for this the museum was a success. A lot of people rained on Delora; people that paid for contemplating with haughtiness the usual things of the miner: frying pans forellate, mine carts, overall and helmets with the typical oil lamp, picks and shovels, explosives and faded photo. That same people that then suffocated the gape, it went to throw pebbles in the river or it camped on the slopes of the sweet hills waiting for the sunset. The smoke of many camps out it wound in the timid evening air for quite a lot summers. In short it worked. The media became benevolent, as always when it is invented an initiative that he/she sells; the tourists traced in bold type the run on their maps and they learned that Delora was one of the so many places to see at least once in the life. The people of the place also had of whether to live. But that was a by now distant and unusual parenthesis, for Delora. The old mining country was slowly changed in the decades. The descendants of that remote epoch were strongly grafted in the real world; around halves the work force operated part-time in the near cities, the other half had an employment that allowed to be him of it the most greater part of the time to proper house. The valley of the Delora was probably one of the places of the planet where the telelavoro was more spread. When Á. the happened from those parts it was still to discreet journalist and he/she wrote books that burdens senseless came even to buy. His was a life of run; then it was said that, if you/he/she had ever slow down, the valley of the Delora would have been a good place to live us. You/he/she was not been wrong. When it paid I burn him/it of that life - the failure of the marriage with Lori, an exhaustion that conducted him/it to hate his/her work - he/she remembered of that enchanting place and it returned you. You/he/she had accumulated enough money, stress and bitterness to feel the one year-old need sabbatico. Many buy a sailboat and they wander about among the islands of the tropics, or they go to the search of itself same in some Buddhist monastery; him decided to spend his/her year to Delora. He/she bought the only house in sale, some distant from the center of the country; it went to fish in the river and it cultivated his/her vegetables. The people of the country bothered him/it, she wanted to be alone him of it. You limited to practise the chiesetta of the country on Sundays, it reciprocated who greeted however it it didn't frequent anybody. This way it ended up knowing all, but superficially. And all knew him. His/her misanthropy not the surrenders a nice neighbor. It was very chatted and he/she knew him/it. Apart the church, the only place where forced was to meet people it was the emporium. It was great for a country of around three hundred souls and very furnished. He/she sold seeds, spades and accessories from garden; food for animals and Christians, home and hardware, poisons, weapons, paintings, construction lumber and quant'altro you/he/she would not have disfigured in the whatever modern supermarket. And there was Ron, the owner; of certain the person with which Á. the had, by circumstance exchanged burdens word in, blackberries. Idealist and witty, Á. would have classified him the; but his/her own scarce attention for the people had never allowed him to go over. It is Ron, from old marpione, had framed well him and it limited him to an extrovert bonomìa procommerciale. To the he/she knew that it was able of to do of better: you/he/she had felt him converse with usual customers with everything other scilinguagnolo. Toward of him Ron brooded a certain interest, that didn't sometimes hesitate to show; but the man respected the reserve of the young one however even if you/he/she prevented him from satisfying his/her own curiosity and Á. the you/he/she was him of it thankful. The months passed with few shake. When the year sabbatico had term Á. the it felt him lost. It didn't feel like returning to the world from which was run away, only idea disgusted him/it. This way it did that, that in the occasion ago a bankrupt journalist: been granted another year sabbatico with the excuse that would have tried to write a book; a true book, not that garbage of political buonismo and ideological forgery that had allowed him to pay the accounts of the divorce. In reality you/he/she had always loved to write; he/she wanted that some that love, that from too much you/he/she had forgotten, it returned to belong to his/her life. The beautiful one is that the book wrote indeed it; few months of feverish appointment, then the dispatch to a publisher that knew would have read him with conscience and you/he/she would have basketed only him if it was not worth. He, could tell as for finally him in vacation. If the book had not gone it didn't care; you/he/she had done that that it felt, you/he/she had tried. You/he/she could return in the world, now, but not before enjoying himself/herself/themselves for the first time the feeling of a rest deserved after the correct work. It went to fish every day, it cultivated the garden in intensive way, it walked on the slopes of the mountains that the valley edged before rising some sun. It slowly advanced or it marched as a soldier, according to the humor, listening to his/her body to work waiting for the dawn. He/she sometimes met an unexpected hunter; he/she almost always picked him/it up of surprise, him, from the furtive incedere, in front of the stainless spocchia of the other. The carbine slightly rotated then, with a wince, for then to return to doze on the shoulder of the annoyed man. But for the most part Á. the didn't see anybody; it proceeded to long footsteps and every now and then it made to standstill. Not necessarily when it was tired: he liked to observe the country from the tall one while he gradually woke up. Taken back his/her old juvenile passion of the arc. It prepared the field of draught on the back, it had enough earth. You built a target, a big disk of woven straw and takings to regularly practice himself/herself/themselves. It was well. Then on damned Tuesdays came. You/he/she had started to rain to the first lights, slowly. The rain filled drainages and channels, weakly roaring, rivolando for the roads and impolpando the countries. To the it had a beautiful escort of food in the house, so definite of him of it calm to laze around and to stay. You/he/she was putting again to place his/her things, all that variegated congerie of memoirs left him by the past and that you/he/she had never dared re-examine, so much less than to throw. Photo and letters, succeeded articles, some prize; there were the writings of Lori, that were his/her personal diary to the epoch of the marriage and that then she had made him deliver through the lawyer. To the you/he/she had always thought that you/he/she had done him to show him what kind of scoundrel had been. For this you/he/she had not touched them yet; they were there still, in a box of cardboard with above writing" ALEJANDRO." The vision of its complete name put him/it to uneasiness, for all you/he/she had been only always Á. the; Lori called him/it for wide only when he/she wanted to reproach him/it for something. It was difficult to orient himself/herself/themselves in his/her messy past. Wanted us a whole day; the initial purpose was also that to throw away some trash, but he/she didn't succeed very well him. Every thing, when he/she picked her/it up in hand, he/she spoke to him in uncertain way and; the mind it wandered about for his/her account trying to find again a continuous thread among elusive and disconnected memoirs. Its permanence to Delora seemed to have tangled and confused its memories, an aware effort served him to seize again the past. As if by now it didn't belong him, it was not his/her thing anymore. It kept on turning him among the hands the box of the letters of Lori without opening her/it, waiting that it told more him something, but it didn't do him/it. Yet it owed; in the last times it spied him/it from above the closet of room when it was in bed and he/she greeted him/it with an icy glance when it got up the morning. You/he/she had had to change I post her, after some, inserting her/it in the closet to the entry, but without resolving big that; that damned box seemed responsible of every weak scrunch of its house, a nice colonial small villa completely in wood. As if the inevitable chatter of the seasoned structures reached the angles contrasted of the building departing from that bungling closet; from there, where a clear portion of its soul floated among walls of cardboard. To the he/she knew when the thing starts; to write that book of his had baited a mechanism of painful introspection, it was annoyingly of it aware. Ripescatosi from the limbo in which you/he/she had wandered so for a long time, now when it looked him at the mirror to shave himself/herself/themselves he recognized; it started to understand who pits that scoundrel that stared at him/it armed with razor. He/she thought a lot, well knowing that to think too much makes evil. The bankrupt marriage was one of that pains; unintentionally, from a couple of weeks you/he/she had taken to ripercorrerne some foreshortenings, as in a film of low quality. That that he/she saw it was indistinct, and for some verses this was a good; he didn't often like at all it. A thing had certainly understood her: with Lori and with itself same you/he/she had been superficial. And not only with her; to race so much you/he/she had prevented him from stopping himself/herself/themselves on that that it counted really: the people. At least, according to Lori. You had repeated him/it to him so many times in that years, but he had not succeeded in grabbing the concept. Too people edged his/her life, then, for the more rompiscatoles or leeches. In substance, types to be avoided; or, to the more, to manipulate. Now that he/she lived alone you/he/she could contemplate the essence of the thing. The people. It didn't need it, in reality. Ever had. Yet, of someone of the timid regards who received in the church or to the emporium, or in the middle of the road, it felt the heat. It was inexplicable, for Á. the. It interrupted the thoughts, shaken the head and it leaned out to the window. It still rained. It was dark, by now. Taken a book from his/her library and he/she sat in armchair. You/he/she would have read for the rest of the evening, according to one consolidated habit. It fell asleep in armchair as an oldie. 2. The following morning still gathered him/it in uncomfortable position with the book in hand. It looked out and it puffed to the maltempo; it kept on raining. Ric entered the room protesting gracefully; it was a really big orange cat, always hungry, and it complained his/her breakfast. To the you/he/she had never possessed an animal in past, and it would not have him however ever had if Ric had not made his/her appearance in front of house, limping and lean, in the eyes that feline dignity that the men should learn; it was only a palletta of trembling hair of cold and fear, there on the threshold. It was firm without meowing, fixing upward the gigantic human with the musetto, ready to fight or to run away in the haze of a mediocre forenoon. To the era remained to observe him/it for some instant hoping that it went; Ric had stared at him of rhyming and you/he/she had remained there. To the you/he/she was surrendered and you/he/she had made him enter, of certain solo for some instant, that was damnedly done then long, turning himself/herself/itself into months. To the beginning he/she didn't want to give him some name; the name of an animal or it is I deprive of sense, or it is as a label that disparages the value of whom the door. That cat would not have been able to ever call him/it Pussi or Mao without insulting his/her feral proper love. But Ricardo was the his/her according to name and Á. the you/he/she had also detested dark him than Alejandro. It is that cat some he saw again. There, to the door, to the bad weather, in silence. A life out. This way, at the end, when you/he/she had realized that could not simply recall the attention of it the throat clearing himself/herself/itself, you/he/she had gone for Ric. An abbreviating, the name for wide it played ridiculous. To the it poured him some milk in the bowl and it made him some blandishment, then it also prepared for itself. It loved thick breakfasts to base of salty food, he/she detested the sweets. Taken his/her medicine with a sip of coffee. The rain continued with to go down, slow and constant. With gesture impatient Á. the wore the raincoat; you/he/she would not have allowed the climate squinternato to ruin him the day. It loved the sun, but to walk with the rain the same went well. It made a wary turn around the house giving a glance to his/her vegetable. He/she immediately saw that something didn't go; there had been some nighttime visits, probably a porcupine. The potatoes were for half to throw that year, and you/he/she had found you already nibble other primizie. It had of it enough; taken the auto, an old fuoristrada that had never betrayed him/it, and it went toward the center. It mechanically drove observing the sky covered in way uniform; it inserted of intention a pair of puddles, in the intent to do yes that the spray dilavassero the mud on rubbers and rims. And then the effect was not no evil. There was not around anybody; when it entered country he/she insinuated him among the lines of the parked autos and it, disturbed by the rain. The emporium opened very soon and already had all the power on lights; Á. the parked before and it entered. Ron was behind the counter, it systematized with patience the new articles on the shelves. It looked at the young one with the tail of the eye. «To the» it said. «Good morning Ron.» «Again those beasts, eh?» «Already. Don't you have something? A trap, stuff of the kind.» Ron showed a pair of rather bloodthirsty articles. «There is no something less bloody?» Ron snickered. «You are the first one that asks me him. If you kill then her do you eat her to you, no?» «Mmmm» it did the young one; but it didn't comment. It was a mentality at hunter, it imagined Á. the. A tall and lanky man entered the emporium making to tinkle the campanellinis on the door; you/he/she refolded the umbrella with great attention and you/he/she supported him/it on one side. It splendidly had the white hair. «' Day to all» it said; its hoarse voice gave him a tone of authority. To the it was certain that it practiced him to the mirror the beard shaving himself/herself/itself. «Good morning mayor» he/she greeted Ron. To the it said the same; he/she didn't know how the mayor called, from when he lived there you/he/she had always felt him/it call to that way. «Who ago out who?» he/she asked the mayor mentioning a smile. «Our Á. the, here.» it said Ron «it seems that burdens animal the impestis the garden. But it doesn't seem intenzionato to hurt him.» «As the Gomezes, then» it said the mayor with a point of acridity. The Gomezes were five brothers, all similar ones among them, in the character and in the aspect. Bristly, stumpy and muscular, from the sulky and stubborn air always of the hard-working and pugnacious farmers. They didn't have fame of great intelligence, however, neither of good heart. They had each numerous children, spit to his/her/their fathers. They lived in a gruppetto of houses set apart, distant from the center a pair of kilometers in opposite direction to the house of Á. the. Sometimes Á. the saw them wander in the countries before the dawn with the aimed rifle evil and pride painted on the torch; for them that weapon was the natural prosecution of his/her own erectile organ, it was evident. They always dressed in mimetic. «Already» it said Ron «I have known about that buck. Done ever feel of a faced buck and done stab to death?» You/he/she had looked at Á. the. The young one he flattered not to give him satisfaction; it pointed out of the stakes and of the iron fil in rolls. «We try with that» definite. If you/he/she had not worked for holding far the intruders, that material would have known whether to use him/it however. Ron kept on looking at him/it. «I don't know well them» it told the end Á. the. Its answer let the dealer twisted the mouth. «It is this the trouble» it admonished «once it was not this way. The country was more united. Today for the we ignore therer. Also his/her children. From when you/they have founded the school telematics they don't have motive to stir of house. Any physical contact with the others. Structures that favor the socialization to Delora don't exist. Today we don't even know thing to wait us, from our neighbors.» It was the preferred discourse of Ron. It often did him/it; the first times Á. the thought that it had him with him, but with the time he/she understood that Ron spoke in general. It desired indeed that there pits a greater community conscience. The life of the actual world however it went to opposite direction. The mayor had listened with attention, feeling himself/herself/itself I aim at the I live from the last part of that discourse. «And away, Ron» it said, trying with ability the manageability of a short ax «you know him/it that there are not deep. We are down here few souls. No kindergarten for his/her/their children, park plays, recreational circle. If an elderly wants to play cards it is well that turns on the computer. Online it finds all the companions that he/she wants.» Ron shelled the eyes and became red as a pepper. The mayor he allowed to escape a smile. «I was joking only» it assured. You/he/she would not have been able to provoke better the dealer of this way. Also Á. the been granted to had to good time grimace. «You are right, Ron» it added the mayor «we know him/it everybody. It is so that the things go today. A lot of people don't even make us case.» You/he/she would not have had to say him/it; this subsequently tickled Ron, that exhibited him in an endless lamentation taking breath little times. The mayor had told on purpose him: you/he/she had a good time a lot making to speak Ron, that showed a speech to vociar of impetus so furbished by to make to think about a social extraction of everything other pasta. Had you/he/she always been a storekeeper that man? To the it had of it enough of so so many chatters; it paid, it picked up his/her stuff and he/she left Ron to inveigh and the mayor to gloat malicious. It made a sign of regard to the two men and it went out of the emporium. It inserted you purchase him in car, it entered in turn. The rain happily ticked on the wide chest of the fuoristrada. Turned on the motor and it went homeward. He/she thought about Lori. Days were different, by now. It had to be the box of the letters. It was not able to ignore her/it anymore. It spied him/it. To the it was aware of his/her existence as you/he/she had been a noisy topolino that rosicava the structures of his/her house, of his/her life. The sound of that rustle spread everywhere, inudibile present eppur; but that was only a box. What heck, how many times if the era said? When it arrived home he/she left the material in the luggage van and runs inside. Ric welcomed him/it with feline enthusiasm. To the ignited the pitcher of the coffee - it was an inveterate consumer - and taken the box of Lori. He/she sat to earth and for the first one turned from that you/he/she had been delivered him it opened him. Who knows how come for a swarm of sheets was waited prepared helter-skelter, a big diary there was alone instead, on the type of that used by his/her/their children, with the image of a horse on the cover. Lori had always loved the horses. To the it skimmed through reluctantly the pages, without being he/she anchors him definite to read. The general idea that drew was that of it of a systematic and orderly job. The handwriting was that of Lori, small and rotunda, every page was written sharp pain without cancellations. The printed date was abraded, to in general Lori had him pen riscritta, so that among two consecutive pages there necessarily was not an alone day of discard. «My God» it murmured Á. the «The have married to grafomane.» Ric took to strusciarglisi on the legs. «Be'» it said Á. the, vague. It returned back and it started to read from the first page. An account detailed of the party of marriage, not so much on the facts, how much on as her you/he/she was felt. It flowed the other four following pages. Always on important moments of their life, on her way of feeling. It was romantic and happy as Á. the he didn't remember. The first times it was all right, then. He had been so taken by his/her own job that it was not entirely of it certain. The pages were followed jumping quite a lot days, often weeks; they were enough harmless. To the he relaxed and takings to examine her without jumping a word. After a beautiful packet of pages and a couple of hours of reading the notes they were done more frequent: something didn't go. The career of Á. the he was putting in mean. No, not so much the career; Á. the surprised him to discover that also Lori considered her/it important. It was him, Á. the, that didn't go. He/she thought only about itself same, according to that that he/she wrote Lori. Nothing anniversary, missed appointments; the anxiety that there pits another woman appeared evident from the writings of the period. To the this was not realized; there had not been never never another woman, only the job. Nth coffee started to mumble on the fire. To the it ignored him/it. Lori wrote of throw, now, without punctuation, and almost all the days. He/she quoted facts of which Á. the had to confused memory, you/they had been alone border of his/her life; for Lori instead you/they had been important. Had you/he/she been so absent indeed? The loneliness of Lori was clear. You were a good physician and it were per diem away of house a lot of times, but Á. the had beaten her to the great one; it seemed not to have made the least effort to find to foreshortening for them. A lot of times Lori had gone to the newspaper to have lunch with him; Á. the there was not never and if there was it didn't make him find: the time of lunch was that in which he/she worked better, with all the colleagues out of the boxes to eat. It reached the point in which Lori wrote some refuge in his/her father's hospital, an old authoritarian that Á. the you/he/she had not digested entirely never. It was something serious, Lori had written words it soaked with anguish. From physician, he/she knew well thing it waited for him/it: it was the beginning of a long hospitalization. To the he/she remembered to have gone to find him/it in the hospital, but the visit had not been pleasant entirely, to the beginning. You/they were sniffed as they make two dogs, with a certain suspicious, that also with the time you/he/she had never come less. You/they were turned around speaking of the more and of the less, without telling him nothing, that is. «So, Dan, has inserted down here you» Á. the had begun, trying to take to seat without stumbling in the trabiccolo of the flebo. Dan, his/her father-in-law, had implicitly translated": so you have gotten away of I return for some, finally." «Only a few days, Alejandro. You as you are?» To the you/he/she had started for as you/he/she had been called and also because the man had stolen him the wisecrack: you/he/she was to the son-in-law, obviously, to inquire himself/herself/themselves on the health of the other. To the you/he/she had translated": I know him/it that you don't care a dry fig tree. You are only here for not having scabs from Lori." You/he/she could not give him blame; from what you/he/she was gotten married, Dan had not done anything else other than to put on in mean: iperprotettivo toward his/her/their daughter, rompiscatole toward of him. And you/he/she was making unwillingly him visit, Á. the; journalist as it was, with Dan the words always missed him. But the shade of worry on the face of Dan, a man everything of a piece that never surrendered, had struck him more than thousand deadly diagnosis. It was indeed shaken of it. While it was reflecting in that way the elderly one you/he/she had looked at him mischievous. To the you/he/she had translated that silence of his": aspect that you ask me as I am, even if it will now make you feel an idiot." «As you are, rather» it made Á. the, submissive. Dan, had translated rightly or wrongly,": I immediately satisfy you, I know that it goes too badly you for impuntarmi of pride." «Tell me him you» it made then Dan, corrucciando the forehead. To the you/he/she had translated": I know him/it that you know more than me, Lori is a physician and you/he/she will have talked to you. We see if you have the testicles to blurt me what my daughter doesn't want to make to know me." «I fear to know of it how much you» you/he/she had said Á. the, assuming to surprised expression; he/she knew well that the other one would have translated": The acknowledge not to have testicles." And in fact Dan had smiled, but with sad tone: you/he/she had to have been afflicted indeed. Usually that type of plays it went on for quite a lot and he, that generally sprouted her/it, had lost now biting. To the you/he/she had felt the need to grant more him. «Lori feels little like speaking of it» you/he/she had added «you/he/she is worried. But not too much.» Dan if it didn't wait for him/it, the Al that knew would not have brought before her/it: lied you/he/she would have lied, but the less possible. This almost seemed the truth. And it was so that the two men had started to speak indeed, perhaps for the first time; they chatted of Lori, for the more, and pleasantly. Without need of strange translations. «It returns to find soon me» Dan had exclaimed at the end. «I will do him/it» you/he/she had promised Á. the. It never kept the promise. One period of intense job came, for Á. the. An evening and this episode he remembered well it, it was the anniversary of their marriage. Lori had left his/her father to the attentions of other physicians to look for Á. the: after having tried to manage for times that sick by now terminal, and nevertheless still wrathful and unmanageable, he/she wanted the evening to have something of good person. You/he/she had returned home; it was so disoriented that didn't remember the appointments of his/her/their husband. Something irrational had made her think about finding him/it there, ready to sustain her/it. To the it was far and you/he/she was not made to track down for a piece. Lori had lived that moments with increasing anxiety. When finally Á. the had responded to the calls you/he/she had liquidated her with little words, without listening to her/it: it was out, there was to job to end, important expirations, it didn't have time to grant to romantic chatters. On the diary of Lori that dialogue was written as it belonged to a blotter of fiction, with all the signs of punctuation to their place. To the he/she read freezing a tantino: he felt nailed to the wall by those accurate lines as a butterfly from a collector. «To the.» you/he/she had said Lori with small small voice. «It doesn't feel him big that» it was the answer of Á. the «it changes position, where the net The ams it goes and it comes.» You/he/she had immediately thrown down. Lori had recalled later few minutes. The voice was always the same one. To the you/he/she had sigh from the impatience. «Anchor doesn't go, Lori.» «To the?» «Eh? Feel me, then.» «Yes.» «I know him/it. It is the anniversary and me I am out. We have given the speech a lot of times. We will refer there.» «To the, dad.» «I also know this. It gives me I set: wastage his/her child; I should be with her instead of going around. But me job, Lori. Do you regret if of it riparliamo? I am busy a lot.» «N-no.» «Good.» To the you/he/she had attacked again. You was fallen in the discouragement; is sat on the bed and you/he/she had remained with the chin on the elbows for quite a lot time. You/he/she had looked for again then her husband, but this time its jail cell was out. It repeated later the attempt ten minutes, with the same result. It returned to support the chin on the elbows. The diary didn't quote some thought of Lori, the thing was not commented: she had remained there simply leaving that the mind it corrected for account really. At the end you/he/she had returned in the hospital; his/her father was worsened, you/he/she was not more conscious and you/he/she breathed with the aid of the cars. It would be dead of there twos times without waking up him. There, in few sentences, Lori expressed strong the sorrow not to have been able to speak to him; while his/her father slipped in the forgetfulness she looked for the comfort of his/her/their husband that was not. To the it cursed to low voice. He/she remembered that for the whole day you/he/she had been busy to organize an important interview. The jail cell had almost always been out, except when Lori had called him. He had not understood anything of that that she had told him. To the he/she read the comments of Lori; she had suffered quite a lot of it and certain to follow it owed to have shown this punishment to words and behavior, but he had not acknowledged anything. You had subìto his/her impassibility with an I still bruise more aching, that slipped out also from the following pages. Yet she had never blamed him nothing, even when the divorce seemed inevitable and the bitterness of the woman slipped out even from the gestures. Lori had kept on writing every day; Á. the continued with to read those lines, for to long time, shaking the head for his/her own evident inadequacy as The marry and as hand. To the it inhaled strong and closed the diary with steadiness. It went to extinguish under to the macchinetta of the coffee, that by now he complained as a dying person. «I didn't believe to go out of it so battered» it said Á. the, caressing Ric, that followed him/it as to little dog. He/she drank a cup fumante, then resumptions the reading. That evening, before sleeping, the teeth it was washed looking himself/herself/itself at the mirror. You rinsed the mouth. Shaken the head to that guy from the disdained expression and the guilty air. «You have been a discreet stupid» it said. You/he/she could go in bed now. 3. Naturally The morning rained later. You/he/she had done him for the whole night, striking strong the roof in wood of the house of Á. the; he had been between vigil and sleep conscious of it. To you treat the beating rain you/he/she had swept the windows playing again gracefully impudent Argentinian. To the he woke up suddenly, the mind still soaked with the residual smokes of dreams that it didn't try to seize again. Curtains give some window it filtered the light of the dawn, weak and halfhearted among heaps of clouds in movement. The man got up with decision, you/he/she poured the food to Ric, taken his/her medicine and he quickly dressed. You/he/she would have done him him to see him to the maltempo. Takings two slices of bread, some ham and a bottiglietta of water, inserted everything in the backpack and prepared him to go out. The rain went down anchor, incessant but not strong. It didn't interest him, however. You/he/she had been to laze around enough; from when you/he/she had started to make long walks that physical activity you/he/she had become a drug: its muscles and its mind pretended her/it. It went out and closed well the door leaving the cat in the house. It didn't have umbrella, but the raincoat dearly worked; the hood was trodden tiing well it to him to the neck and quickly set out toward the center of the valley according to a run that a lot of times had done. You/he/she would have been able to follow him/it to closed eyes. The valley of the Delora almost had a form to eight. In one of the lobes he was found; the Delora crossed in the eight center, but not longitudinally: it did him/it the eight in two, it almost intended to separate the two round bellies crowned of tall necks. To the center, really where it flowed the river, there was a narrowing among the mountains that it reduced the valley to a narrow gully slightly raised again; to pass from a belly to the other one is necessary to cross a bridge in steel. Seen by the tall one the area it had an unique aspect; the road and the river were perpendicular among them as a cross that it divided in fourth almost equal the valley. To north, over the crown of mountains, there were between the four and the five kilometers of lowland, then a mountainous chain of great extension brought the ground to still climb; there the road climbed him among the woodpeckers, for then to go down again over and to reach the nearest city, to around trentacinque kilometers from Delora. To south, there was not instead, anything else other than an amplissima flattened verdant, adorned here and there of woods of dark and dense trees; an inhabited center could also be met to continue for other seventy good kilometers. To the it was expeditiously started; you/he/she would have reached an extreme of the valley estranging himself/herself/itself from the river. Procedette in slope, following by now an old mulattiera in disuse. It was the only layout that conducted him/it in safety among the woods allowing to know him where it was also found among the mists of the first morning. It made a breadth turn fighting with the rain what time it came down to the great one; with the good time you/he/she would have enjoyed of a beautiful sight, but so it was satisfied with to feel his/her own body work breathing with harmonic and constant rhythm. Spent around a hour without staying himself/herself/themselves. The thought of Lori went and came. You/he/she had made her evil, it is true, beyond that that the diary said. However, after all you/he/she had not been, really a carcass; a lot of guilts that the woman imputed him they didn't derive from his/her egocentrism, but from the illness; a new companion, elusive and pretentious. You/he/she had reached the sudden one when Á. the, without particular joy, you/he/she had reached the apex of his/her journalistic career. They started to invite him/it to demonstrations and ceremonies, by now it was enough known; one anonymous day to a boring meeting, sat in good order to the listening of an elderly colleague, you/he/she had arrived I improvise the first devastante attack. To the it instantly became aware of his/her own cardiac pulsation, of the blood that raced in his/her body to waves. And if you/he/she was stopped? Or contrarily, if that to pulsate, amplified already, was you/he/she grown and done grow anchor up to make to burst him/it? The idea, absurd, he made road in his/her mind. It was as if a dark cloak wound him/it, it felt the point of every nerve react, almost to fry from the tension, while its legs were as cut by the body, almost inactive, profits only to hang his feet as if they didn't belong him. Attended the death. that it didn't as. Few second but the forehead it lasted only him it him of sweat and in an instant the strengths they abandoned him/it. It didn't feel him in degree to hold him standing, but when shortly after the discourse had term it got up and it applauded with the others. It kept silent that event, it removed him/it from his/her same thoughts. An anomaly, an accident irripetibile as a snowfall of August, so he/she wanted to classify him/it. Until it didn't happen again, in more occasions, and entirely unpredictable. How could you/he/she see the thing? You/he/she had become a problem and he/she knew him/it. But you/he/she would not have done anything. Happened, that's all. Few second of great suffering, dopodiché physically felt him and emotionally to throw. But you/he/she could hide him/it. In the moment of the attack Á. the stiffened the torch, it tightened the teeth not to send forth burdens sound, he/she was slightly then senseless; you/he/she could stumble, to that point, however to small accident Khan also be attributed to other. To the it became very skilled to pretend; with Lori it was even diabolic. It was a physician his/her wife, it had to be good. Endless excuses; she perceived her as such, he/she groped in the doubt but at least it stayed distant from the truth. Then the day of the accident of auto came. To the he/she didn't succeed in going to the office anymore that morning. The idea to estrange from house, to take the highway to make a half dozen of kilometers terrified him/it. Yet it had to react. With the senses misted by the panic it inserted the tollgate for pure fortune, then the eyes him they darkened him and it planted the car in the guardrail. They brought him/it in the hospital, badly not that of Lori; it was not a serious thing, but in the fainting its defenses had lowered and that physicians were smart. They passed him/it from the psychiatry first aid. Questions on questions. Exhausted, it admitted. It was the beginning of a care of his despite: the doctor would not have told his wife, but he promised to make himself/herself/themselves follow from a professional. You have to maintain the word for strength: the physician watched him/it. To the it shivered, remembering how much difficult it was for him to accept that help. The muscles now started to protest; taken by inauspicious memoirs you/he/she had instinctively reacted increasing the walk. It, intensely assembling himself/herself/itself on the breath; he was getting tired more than the usual one, it had to be guilt of that damned terrestrial slippery. Luckily it was rather in form. Already, the physical activity. That had been a discovery. His/her psychiatrist was a fanatic of body building. Done ever have a personal physician by the gigantic pettoralis? It upset some that sight. You/they had spoken very well to him some, however. To the first meeting, in the room of attended, you/he/she had felt like escaping strange tant'erano the faces of his assisted. There were indeed of the metally ill ones in that saletta. But, the body, was as for damnedly all in form. You/he/she was felt ridiculous in the middle of them. The only wren. Then you/he/she had known the doctor and his/her therapy: chemistry and physical activity. «So, do I owe really to choose a sport?» you/he/she had said Á. the. The physician had scrutinized him unconsciously dancing about the two-headed ones. «Certain. It is as important as the pharmacological help. Believe me. Activity to the open one. Then?» It attended an answer; Á. the had always despised the palestratis. To the open one, eh? There was his/her old passion. «I would say that. The ams an archer.» You felt ridiculous while it was telling him/it. The physician had shaken the head and the whole bundle of muscles connected. «It doesn't go. That is not a true sport. Not.» «If I beat her/it to iron arm it gives him/it for me for good?» Pulsation of eyelids under thick eyebrows. Then, a disparaging smile. «If he/she doesn't want to do pesistica or activity of team, the run is dedicated to.» «It gives him/it for me for good or no?» Other smile. «Of accord.» To the you/he/she had won in ten seconds: to extend the rope of his/her arc had made him the hard musculature of the right arm as the stone. The physician if n'era been with the aching shoulder for some still speaking of the cares; then the man had not been able to avoid to change expression staring at Á. the with agonismo. «Two on three?» «It is all right.» That day the poor psychiatrist had risked an ugly dislocation. Forced to choose not anymore, Á. the was relaxed and you/he/she was become easy-going. This way you/he/she had decided to devote himself/herself/themselves to the run. And it was a revelation. You/he/she would never have told him, but it did indeed for him. This thing Lori didn't understand her/it and Á. the didn't tell the whole history; she knew only that of point blank À. the had begun to race, to every time, also sacrificing the precious job. Thing that he had never done. to be him of it with her, for instance. Distracted by his/her lucubrations, it to become better himself/herself/themselves account of where it was found; the rain made more complex to orient himself/herself/themselves. It recognized the place from the near trees, two enormous twin platans. It continued. The first sign that was about to reach the destination they were the poles of the telephone; they parallelly crossed the valley to the road and with it they took to climb, as soon as they gradually drew near to the barrier of the mountains. Then road and poles separated him: the road lazily wound, the poles followed the steep trajectory and right-hand that it conducted to the crests of the side north. The leaning buttresses started to glimpse him among the fogs; Á. the been granted the first standstill and sbocconcellò the sandwich with appetite. He/she didn't sit: anywhere there were rivulets of impromptu brooklets that went down from the tops, the rain had sprinkled everything of a veil of sticky damp. When you/he/she had ended resumptions the march directing himself/herself/itself toward the asphalted road; it was to around three hundred meters from the footstep when it perceived that something didn't go: the poles of the telephone were dejected and the road seemed cut. Among the coils of fog, it guessed that the footstep had collapsed; it was the only clear of zone of trees and the rocks of the area they didn't seem so stable. Guilt of the man and his/her fury disboscatrice, as usual. The insistent rain had saturated the strata, inflating the earth that, not more held back, you/he/she had dragged all with itself. A refolo of wind removed the fogs for enough once to show the details of the landslide. The mountain was as knelt; notable rocks were seen rolled for hundreds of meters and a landslide generalized that you/he/she had left the mountainous chain as a toothless mouth: an avalanche of terrestrial impolpato of water had dragged and upset the culminating line of the road, bringing every very more thing in low, reducing the few trees of the slope. The poles of the telephone appeared as messy darts on the back of an enormous patient in a session of acupuncture. You/they would not have used the telephone for a piece, the inhabitants of the valley. To the definite ones to return back, perhaps any other he/she knew. You/he/she would have been able to warn with the jail cell, but in the zone for the jail cell there was no line. They were isolated. To the it accelerated; if someone crossed the road in car, unaware, you/he/she would have taken some risks. The mountain was still unstable and many rocks encumbered the asphalt: you/he/she could be come upon us in the rocks even before to see the landslide. It tried to trot some, but it risked to slip a couple of times and it. You climbed on the final line of the mulattiera crossing the last ascending curve; from there the road it became for the return easier and sure, to pact not to fall in the middle of the mud. The daylight penetrated among the clouds, but the rain was constant however, even if it now went down to bland rhythm. To the it stopped him taking breath. From that position he/she heard something that had not noticed to the going. There was a sound that echoed on the slopes, actually brought by the wind him; as of a fall. It was the river. To the it him/it from the tall one, now that looked in the correct direction. The Delora, inclusive among the Woodpeckers of the Wolf, the two bastions that tightened the valley, flowed furious and brown among the banks inerbate. The banks were strong, but water threatened of esondare. A flood so it didn't appear in the annalses of the country. The bridge that the river climbed over, the only street remained for entering and to go out of the valley, was slapped by the water in the points of attack to the dry land. Now Á. the was indeed worried. Quickly gone down crossing the almost invisible path and inserting a beautiful sequence of puddles; it slipped in checked way, using the soft mud of pits and swampy hollow to slow down. The big boots fought among the swash of the muds. The hood upset him but Á. the allowed to I give. It was soaked, by now. To arrive home employed once that seemed him endless. He/she didn't take care of him to tidy up him, taken the keys of the car and runs to the emporium. Ron got up soon always and you/he/she would have known whether to do. Later not very the bells of the country took to play without standstill. 4. The church he was riempiendo; the incessant sound of the bells in weekday had first incuriosito, then worried all how much. The last fellow townsman were entering, also who didn't frequent the religious functions it was present and it slightly looked around him at uneasiness. The mayor was next to the altar; the priest delivered him the microphone that used for saying mass. People spoke in a low voice for inquiring himself/herself/themselves, but nobody knew. To the he/she sat on a bench to half height of the central aisle, permanently scrutinized by the small one of the Heinzes, a family of blonde German arrived in the valley ten years before. The baby was stormed of freckles rugginose and you/he/she had a look of an insolent blue. To the it ignored her/it. The mayor beat a finger on the microphone, lifting a prolonged whistle. «Friends fellow townsman» it started «I apologize me if you have been called in this way, but we are here for an important reason: the slope north slips.» There was a low buzz, that the mayor easily overhung. «I exhort you not to use vehicles in direction north, the road it is not practicable. The landslide has also demolished the telephone lines, therefore it won't be possible to effect and to receive calls up to its restoration.» The buzz did him stronger. «It is an uneasiness, I know him/it. Other times you/he/she is happened. Until we won't perhaps be covered by the cellular net it will still happen.» It said the sentence with polemic tone; you/he/she had proposed various times the laying of repeaters on the crests of the mountains but the people, frightened by the proven damages to the organism provoked by the magnetic fields, you/he/she had always refused. The only repeater of which he/she wanted sentir to speak was that TV, that had been installed years first on the Woodpeckers of the Wolf. «Someone should go to ask help» it said a man with a big beard, slowly lifting himself/herself/itself standing «if we leave that the manager realizes of it and intervenes with his/her times, we will be isolated up to Christmas.» «Correct» it said the mayor; the forehead smoothed him with the hand. «Before doing anything I would say to wait for Pablo, you/he/she should be here to moments.» Pablo was the only police officer of the country. Someone from the last files asked thing it entered it the police with the telephones. The verified it articulated well the words. «You/he/she is checking the bridge. It seems that the river is very tall, I am as able to remember.» This was some big to send down. «He/she wants to say that we would have problems to leave the valley?» churches Bo Gomez, making himself/herself/itself spokesman of his/her family. The Gomezes sat gathered and all had a frowning expression, more annoyed than worried. Also the numerous children. The mayor shook the head with decision. «We don't make premature hypothesis» it said «we wait for Pablo, you/he/she should be here already. We stay calm.» People started animately discussing with the neighbors of bench. The mayor slowly sat, fixing to more resumptions the clock. But where was Pablo ended? 5. Pablo observed the structures of the bridge; they were strong, but old. The beams in steel were under good conditions, what worried him/it they were the pylons: three, a plant in the middle of the river and the others two set in the opposite banks, all realized in concrete of low quality. The pillar in the mean was of simple support, there was a plate in steel on which the intradosso of the bridge was attested; those side were not true pillars but embankments dressed again by a crostone of cement. The river in that point was not wider than six meters, the smaller width in its rectilinear run in the valley. There waters accelerated; many trunks were quickly transported by the impetuous tide, banging against the inferior structures of the bridge that, being relatively light, it waved in sonorous way. The strength of the waters had the tendency to sideways move him/it, you support him of extremity they opposed him to the solicitation, showing however some fractures grey dark on the surface of concrete. Pablo didn't know what to do. You rubbed the face, drying himself/herself/itself to the beautiful ones and better from the rain. Water was to the limit of the banks; the bridge, that was edged by a steel grille to narrow sweaters to avoid that the people in transit fell in water, you/he/she was pressed by a big mass of arboreal material of small and great dimensions dragged until from the mountains there: that mass pressed because of the tide, and its rhythm of progressive accumulation didn't mention to be reduced himself/herself/themselves. That that it was worse, the bridge had been realized for old courses of water, antecedent to the brief mining adventure, following which, with the change of the equilibriums idrogeologici, new tributaries had appeared. Provisions had been taken through works of adjustment, but the banks had been raised; only with the whole material of leftover from the mining excavations it was the easiest thing, but the bridge had not been raised again. The result was that the bank was taller than the inferior level of the bridge and the water you/he/she was starting to flow on the suspended road fund filtering through the net of parapet. Pablo climbed on the viaduct to be sure himself/herself/themselves some thing bathing himself/herself/itself the shoes. From there the Delora it frightened. Pablo worried him quite a lot. The net was strongly pressed, the big number of upcoming deposits they had the tendency to cover the holes and Pablo of it temette that the water, not finding any outlet anymore, it created such a pressure from sconquassare the structure. Raced in car, it opened the chest and it looked for among the utensils that it always brought him behind. Taken a long pliers an arm and runs on the bridge; taken to dismantle the elements of fixing of the net without perfectly becoming himself/herself/themselves account of that that it did. He/she thought that it was a good idea to cut there here some some, to do yes that the net came together all. The pressure was notable; as soon as the man shore, the net deformed more him. To the sudden Pablo he/she heard an unexpected crash; the net, as he wanted, you/he/she had surrendered in his/her whole. Under the push of trunks and branches the net was undone projecting himself/herself/itself against the man, that had enveloped of it; Pablo jumped to foot you protect the roadway, cast against the net that was on the other side of the bridge. The hit was violent, accompanied by a branches bombardment and sprigs, rotten leaves and soil. The man fell sat, slightly senseless. You polished up the face from the I dirty, while water, hindered not more, it entered to waves bringing of everything. The tritume took to quickly accumulate against the other net. Now water was middle meter above the asphalt and Pablo, incapable to stir, it was actually you absorbed to the belt. You felt an unfit bimbone understood in a dampness destiny. You received shivering to the icy embrace of the dirty waters. It got up, then, unbecomingly splashing about for freeing himself/herself/themselves from the net divelta; told the shoulders the tide, and this was an error. You/he/she had not used the pliers to get away himself/herself/themselves the hindrance that a couple of trunks quickly drew near yet, it climbed over the obstacles and it swept the bridge striking Pablo to the legs. With a moan the man fell in knee, the legs trapped by the woods; you/he/she fought for freeing he anchors, but you/he/she seemed him to stir in the glaze. Anymore the time passed and newer stuff suited him against or it was set to the remained net. Pablo succeeded in getting up, without breath; it allowed to lose the pliers, here it was in game the skin. Without more obstacles, quintals of refusals accumulated on the asphalt. Other trunks were added; they were not big but they created a new problem: they inserted him in the structural parts of the manufactured article opposing himself/herself/itself to the free flow of the garbage carried until there. With horror, Pablo saw that the road was filled with some everything. The net was not alone: that would perhaps have surrendered to the excessive pressure. Now they were the same structures in steel of the bridge that you/they contributed to the impilamento of the material. Pablo fought for returning to the car, it climbed over quite a lot obstacles, it fell and he bathed afoot afresh. It risked twice to drown. The car was down there, it seemed inarrivabile. Now the bridge was full, but other things they succeeded in jumping those present lifting piles. The weight started to make himself/herself/themselves considerable. Incapable about doing something intelligent Pablo thought only escaping. It grabbed on to the tallest girders and it made the funambolo with the few of energy that stayed him. It had him almost sort. With a jump it found again him on the bank and with another it clumsily tumbled toward the car. It was safe. He/she didn't succeed in starting again himself/herself/themselves standing, he/she left that the knees were drenched of mud. Attended a few minutes breathing strong. It got up, finally, with caution, slipping on the pluvius pregnant ground. Dense sharp pain was going down. You directed again on the bank; in that brief timecourse the bridge was filled up to the improbable one, and it was his/her guilt. Removing the first net but not the second, you/he/she had created a knapsack in which the tide poured again him without standstill bringing new things. The heaped up trunks were quite a lot, now; they covered big part of the surfaces. «It will collapse» it murmured Pablo. The weight of the water and after all you/he/she was making to squeak the carrying structures. Pablo observed impotent. It kept on worsening. There were everywhere mud and wood. The bridge sent forth left sounds and the cracks on the embankment they widened. Not cedettero neither the metallic structures, neither the asphalted part, but the embankment twisted him and flaked him with an unreal slowness. Earth and cement fell in the river leaving an ample and black hole to their place. The bridge stirred: the connected part to the earth detached him to work under the push of the flood; the extreme of the bridge rotated and lowered, without sinking. The bridge shook, it rubbed against the central pilastrino, traslò toward valley rotating plain, finally the floor deformed him and detached him in wide flakes, allowing to docilely fall tons of load in the center of the Delora. Pablo held back the breath; it observed stupidly the material that first it debated him quarrelsome, and then it found among the billows the street to surrender him to his/her trip toward the sea. The man turned the head; the bridge was unusable, by now it stayed to toss himself/herself/themselves in the center of the river, tilted, still bound to the last embankment on the opposite shore. In the hollow left by the in general his/her Pablo he/she saw to channel him a great deal of water: in that point of the bank there was not anything to oppose himself/herself/themselves to the strength of the river. The first strong surge of water exploded in shiny braids and hurled him to the outside of the bed, finally free. The auto was run over by the billows, it oscillated, slowly stirred. Pablo launched a terrorized redskin cry. It jumped toward the car drenching again himself/herself/itself as a chick in the plentiful stream in rout toward valley. The man groping grabbed on to the handle of the door and it entered auto together with a beautiful po' of water; closed the counter and turned on the motor. The auto immediately started; Pablo uselessly forced the motor, the wheels were partially dipped and they skidded. The dark water of minutaglia threatened with slipping himself/herself/themselves in the exhaust pipe. Luckily the river esondato dragged the vehicle for many meters, up to conduct him/it in a point in which the wheels made again taking. Pablo steered toward the country and departed to rocket. 6. The mayor hardly succeeded in calming the people. They were all shaken ones and frightened. The Gomezes had decidedly become rabid, now. Stumpy and strong as unloaders of I bring, they animately discussed with the voice that seemed above all an expressionless growl. When Pablo, rotten and frightened, it made his/her appearance in the meeting with serious delay, all were struck dumb. The mayor perceived some conditions in which you/he/she was and he insisted for making to sit him/it. Pablo refused. Many asked him questions. The man lifted a hand and weakly spoke so much to force other people's silence. «The bridge has gone» it said. I shout general. The mayor valiantly tried to hiss the presents. «. silence, has said!» the mayor shouted for fourth time. There was an instant of calm. «The bridge has gone» taken back Pablo «I was present. Water is filtering from a hole of the bank. We have to do something in hurry or the strength of the river it will dig a breach of such dimensions to quickly flood the valley. And the houses are in the lowest point.» «The end of the mouse!» it shouted a frightened woman. «Calm» it said the mayor trying to cover the vocìo that that comment had originated. Bo Gomez consulted him with his/her/their brothers. «Mayor» it said, lifting himself/herself/itself standing «we cannot escape, if we ever wanted. We have a landslide to north and an impossible ford to south. I have here a lot of children and nephews with me, mayor. I hope that I/you/he/she have a proposal.» The mayor looked around him looking for an answer without finding her/it. To the at he also looked around him; people were terrorized. You/they would already have been enough desperate abandoning their houses, but to have to wait for the flood without being able to run away. «Someone has an idea?» he/she asked the mayor. «We send someone to ask help. Idea is valid even more, now» it said the lady Heinz, a young attractive woman from the marked German accent. It was a pair of meters away from Á. the and it tightened his/her daughter as if she wanted to escape her. Shook Pablo the head. «It is a good, but old idea. If we don't do something to embank the flood, in two hours we find under us everybody some meters of water.» To the it got up standing, winning the instinct misantropico that pushed him/it to make himself/herself/themselves his/her facts. The presents observed him/it without particular interest. It lifted both the braccias pointing out to want to speak. The mayor saw him/it. «To the» it said the elderly head of the community «tell us.» «We need a new bank» it said Á. the, with to tone slightly forced for making himself/herself/themselves feel. Bin Gomez, smaller brother of Bo, sneered turning to his/her/their relatives. «A new bank, sure» it murmured «because we have not thought there?» Bo approved the sentence of his/her/their brother with a sardonic giggle. «. The said» it continued À. the «what we have created to another of it.» Shook Pablo the head again. «I don't know what you have in mind, but you/he/she cannot be done. The area is impracticable, now.» «I don't say to draw near to the river. We salt about twenty meters on the slopes of the Woodpeckers of the Wolf and let's make them jump.» «We make to jump what?» it said surprised Bo. «The two Woodpeckers of the Wolf» Á. the responded «you/he/she should not be difficult. The collapse of the walls of rock can form an enough barrier.» «With thing we should make to jump them, to words?» it said Bin, to strong voice now. To the it widened the braccias in a gesture omnicomprensivo. «Delora has been a country of miners. I should not be me to suggest him/it.» «You have said correct, friend. You/he/she has been. A lot of years ago» it replied Bin. «Oh, in short» sbottò Ron squirting standing «we have understood what it intends Á. the.» «You have understood him you» it made Bo, in defense of his/her/their brother «you have some explosives, in the emporium?» Ron been granted a grimace of contempt. «The museum» the mayor joined in conversation «sure. In the museum we have a beautiful po' of ingots of dynamite. But they are old.» «It doesn't stay us whether to try» it said Á. the «they use only us the volunteers that the positions place to the feet of the Woodpeckers and make her to shine. With a long beautiful fuse, also.» Now his/her brothers Gomezes had the eyes that sparkled. «We will think there us. We have experience, in these things» it said Bo. Nobody felt like asking that type of experience; someone was available and so much was enough. «Well. I propose that the Gomezes are goes suffered» it said the mayor «we cannot allow there to attend over. Us others we can wait here.» All agreed. The Gomezes marched to the museum and they took all the candelottis of dynamite that found, they loaded them on their jeep and they departed to the time of the river. People attended with impatience, sat in the church. To the it went out some to the chetichella; you/he/she had been too much also already under the reflectors for his/her tastes. You/he/she had reached the church afoot, and afoot it was started toward the Woodpeckers of the Wolf. 7. The explosions were almost simultaneous. The Gomezes had done soon, but also Á. the had stirred in hurry; you/he/she had been coming in sight of the Woodpeckers for two minutes when the double rhombus struck the walls of the mountains. From his/her position, distant but sopraelevata in comparison to the bed of the river, Á. the had to good visibility of the events. The smokes of the morning he was spacing out; it was almost spiovuto. The sun didn't have enough strength to perforate the clouds, but it spread light and heat enough to disperse the last fogs however. The Woodpeckers trembled. To the beginning it seemed that the dynamite had not had effect, then, with an infuriating slowness, whole columns of rock began to crumble himself/herself/themselves. The Woodpeckers came down, flaking himself/herself/itself in costoni and rocks of every dimension; the noise of the collapse was impressive even more of the explosions. The rocks did to competition to reach the ground, rolling and jumping on the uneven ground, invading the road that conducted to the bridge intercepting the waters of the river that the valley was invading. Tall spray of water were raised in sky. To the he/she remained to look at that show until, between the dusts and the mud, the visibility of that portion of valley reduced him to little thing. Tall cries raised there him in low: they were his/her brothers Gomez that celebrated. They roared and they sneered of pride. To the attended that the drizzle polished up the atmosphere. 8. In the church people shook the hands to the neighbors and praised his/her brothers Gomez, that didn't take care of him to hide a certain boldness. After the nuvolone was dissipated you/he/she had been suffered evident that the attempt had succeeded; the river had been embanked and you/he/she had taken back the regular course slightly starting to esondare above the south shore. Water had begun to go down in that part of valley without possibility of damage, considering that for a long time the zone was uninhabited. All made party; you/they were still isolated, but at least anymore the skin they didn't risk. Ron approached to Á. the, that had just reentered from the nth his/her scarpinata of the day. «You see?» it said with sarcasm Ron «all of love and of accord. Even the Gomezes seem decent, today.» To the it stared at him/it with a certain surprise. The irony of the merchant didn't seem entirely him motivated. «This people have risked quite a lot, today. It is normal that they are happy.» Ron reciprocated the look of Á. the. «Certain» it consented «but as you/he/she would have gone if the situation was not resolved?» «Be', if indeed water purifies, now we would be all purified ones.» «It is not that that I intended. If the emergency had not been so dramatic, would we have played all to celebrate-together-the-Gomez?» «Ron» it said Á. the «The don'ts understand you. Once so much as that the country seems united you wanted you.» «Only for funk, Á. the, only for funk» it replied Ron. People animately spoke in a low voice still, visibly more relaxed. The mayor tried to attract the attention waving the hands. «Friends.» it started «friends.» Some turned him verse of him and they sat again, in attended. The other ones followed the example without hurry. «Fellow townspersons» taken back the elderly one «we are all thankful ones to his/her/their brothers Gomez for I bring him that you/they have given to the matter. And thanks also to you, Á. the, for the good conceives. But we are still in emergency. I would say that we should decide what to do. We cannot communicate with the near cities, we can receive only the telecasts. I am our solo contact with the external world. We have to consider the opportunity to send someone warn of our condition.» «Yes, correct» someone told after all the aisle. Varied favorable comments were you, but it seemed that nobody realized what it behaved. There was who took the walk as a scholastic trip. His/her despite, Á. the was perhaps the only one that for experience it had an conceives of the difficulty of the initiative; it got up standing. «Excused me. I don't want to frighten anybody, but not even to leave that the thing underestimates him.» The fellow townsman attentively looked at him/it; Á. the wagged him, slightly to uneasiness, alternatively moving the weight of the body from to foot to the other. «To ask help» it said «it is had to climb the crest of mountains that surrounds the valley avoiding the landslide or the collapsed woodpeckers, that are unstable. Then to climb the following chain of mountains to arrive to a zone covered by the cellular nets. Four days afoot. I also have to specify Mr. mayor, that we macaws not even able to receive the telecasts. The repeater was a great deal next to the Woodpeckers of the wolf. Too much.» The people we remained badly. Many looked at the Gomezes some less enthusiastic ones. Bo stared at Á. the with to certain resentment. «You know a lot of things, you» it said Bo «how you know how much it takes?» «I like to walk» it said Á. the dry land. «You also knew about the flood» it said Bo. «Yes.» «And the landslide? Who stamani has seen her you/he/she must have lifted soon damnedly him.» As often Á. the had seen the Gomezes dressed of all point for the hunting, knows they had seen À. the to vigorously march among the fogs in the seed-obscurity. To the he/she nodded. «I have met the landslide and I have noticed the flood, luckily» Á. the responded. He/she didn't see us nothing of badly. To his/her shoulders and around they got up malevolent buzzes. Bin Gomez united him to the game of his/her/their brother. «You have suggested to make to collapse the Woodpeckers of the wolf» it said. To the it understood what they tried to insinuate, even if it didn't understand the of it why. However he didn't care of it nothing. «There was not alternative» it said. Bo Gomez lifted the voice. «Somebody else among you others you/he/she has seen the landslide?» he/she asked, flowing him/it look on the presents. Even if murmured, the answer was an evident" no." «I suggest to go to see, then. He/she is never known.» To the it tightened him in the shoulders. The mayor, that had a certain liking for the young one, seemed embarrassed. «I would say. that you/he/she Khan be done, without offending anybody» it intervened, avoiding to look at À. the «in car want us no dark than ten minutes.» «Fairies also» it said Á. the «when you will have seen her, the problem of the paramedics will remain however. I don't feel particular like going, but I am that more proper.» Ron appeared nearby him, a hand put on his shoulder. People mumbled in incomprehensible way; with a meaningful look Ron pointed out the presents. «I appreciate your offer, Á. the» it said then, knows that the other ones they felt «The know that there is no need to go to the landslide.» The mayor looked at Ron, Á. the and the Gomezes. «Certain» it said «nevertheless our citizens have to be sure. It is an already enough difficult situation. It doesn't cost anything to go to see that landslide.» «If there is, and if it is a landslide» it said Bin. Frankly it had a good time. Other upset murmurs. «What there is?» he/she asked Bo «you/he/she has been Á. the to suggest the dynamite. He/she knew well where it was.» «It is' silent, Gomez» it said Ron «all we knew where it was. If you/he/she had been used for closing the footstep north the explosions you/they would have wakened up everybody. You/he/she has been a landslide, instead, inudibile for the maltempo.» «Ok, ok» it said Bo smiling. However many peered at Á. the with clear hostility, and he would not have been able to give them blame: the Gomezes often showed their mental lillipuzianità, but they were predictable as the taxes. To the era held strange for habits and attitudes. Who others did he drench nottetempo for the solo to like to walk? Pablo got up standing; by now you/he/she was taken back by the experience on the river. «I have understood» it said. It went from Á. the and the takings to braccetto. «I regret it, Á. the» it said. The young one quadrated him/it with a certain amazement. «For your safety, Á. the» it told tall voice the police officer «you remain inside house for burdens, The see too twisted glances, here inside. Until all it is not clarified.» To the smiled without joy. «Of accord. But we are wasting time.» Pablo accompanied Á. the out of the church and did him/it enter the auto of service. To the it noticed the compassionate conditions of the vehicle, but it was not in vein to comment; it did for sitting on the back seats, but Pablo opened him the door before: he/she didn't want the youth to be considered a true prisoner. Pablo accompanied him/it to his/her house and greeted him/it with professional courtesy, recommending not to leave around him; then it returned to the reunion paesana. To the it entered house and it hung without a destination here and there, then definite to pick her/it up with philosophy and to read a good book; he/she took from the library one of it, but it immediately put again him/it to place. You/he/she could do of better. It went to take the firewood in the capanno adjacent house ignoring again the rain leaf, and it returned within with an armful of strong branches. It put the all in the fireplace and turned on the fire, that taken to happily crackle. The full winter was not cold you/he/she was passed by a piece, but the continuous rain of that days had lowered the temperature of some degree and Á. the it found to physical and psychological relief in to blaze happy of the dry firewood. He/she left that the fire reddened him the skin of the face; then definite as you/he/she would have passed the rest of the day. You organized for well; frugal meal and select reading in front of the hearth. The box of Lori was for earth, open; Á. the held the diary among the hands, burdens too much next to the torch, knows that unconsciously it had to leave half open the eyes to put to fire dense the writing in which it was absorbed. To the domiciliary arrests or that that they were, it didn't have other stimulus that his/her personnel's history to read failure as I marry; too times you/he/she had left that its job entered its family life, too times Lori had suffered without doing him him to weigh of it. Then the illness; to that point of the diary you/he/she had already come into play. A new factor, of which Lori didn't have to know. A mezz'uomo, here is thing had married the sensual one, cerebral, sweet Lori. To the takings to take care himself/herself/themselves to her insaputa and it went to race in the most unexpected hours: he/she adored at night the city, the feeling of efficiency of his/her own body, the sweat that dispersed together with the anguish. Didn't Lori understand us more nothing; that man did the possible one to escape her or thing? In the middle of that I stun, still reading Á. the also saw to tender side of Lori that he/she didn't think it existed; you/he/she had always been nice with his/her/their children, but in the page of two year-old 12 Decembers before it said": The have met the baby of the neighbors, today. It has three years and a half, a doll vestitino and a fantastic way of look the things. As if they were more than that that I am. I/you/they have not succeeded in swaying the attention while it was playing with the friends and he/she explained his/her reasons with spite. Fantastic. It is her fallen the ball in our garden, you/he/she has come to pick him/it up next to me. It perfumes of baby. I have thought as you/he/she would have been if it were my daughter. Me, with a child. Who knows if to Á. the would like?" To the you/he/she had never seen Lori as a mother. Lori had never seen Lori as a mother, for that that he/she knew him. You/they had never spoken to have children; too complicated, seen their job, or it was too soon perhaps simply. At least for Á. the. You/he/she was not felt mature to become father, as for a lot of other things. The men, eternal children. The preferred sentence of his/her mother, remembered. But it was not only this. To the it was sick. And he felt sick. What kind of father would you/he/she have been a man this way? The correct care was distant a great deal, then; only the run gave him relief. Lori continued then with other facts, not very interesting for the truth. The diary brought then a harmless event that however Á. the would have preferred to forget: the patatrac that he had combined to the regatta of end year. He/she remembered too well also; Lori and he had gone by boat on a lake they climb on, and since the boat was comfortable and from the flat fund, be', it was predisposing rather to the flirtation. But certain effusions can be inopportune if he floats to the center of a lake where it is about to unwind himself/herself/themselves a sail competition. Those had not certainly, signalled her, but Á. the was felt tiny child when, sbaffato of lipstick, had had to lavish him in excuses with the most ill-mannered competitors. Read those lines without enthusiasm but with increasing amazement: Lori had lived her in so different way! You/he/she was had a good time, even. Had laughed of I taste, minding to hide him/it to Á. the; that boy was I know embarrassed! You/he/she had appeared from now on tenderly her unprepared to so much thin figure; him, that always strove him to maintain the control of the things. You had often repeated him/it to him": there is not to delude himself/herself/themselves to have the control of your life, the things they happen and enough. It is important to accept him/it, this, to be happy." Lori had ever offered sentence more distant from the way of feeling of Á. the. He had always planned his/her own things pretending too much since from itself same and from the others rigor. And so you/he/she had done until, then it didn't stop being able to practice that control,: first the sudden illness, therefore the crumbling of the marriage and the job. A deaf thud, his/her life. And this had conducted him to Delora. To the been received, whipped by the codone of Ric. Lori is be liked that cat. It was not alone beautiful, it was an animal able to follow the humor of Á. the. It was nearby him when he was badly, complaining himself/herself/itself with a difficult miagolìo from micettino; it was held to the wide one in the moments of bad mood; it was integral part of the mobilio in the pleased time and in the rest. In short, the was better than Á.; him yes that it adjusted him to the things, according to the thought of Lori. To the he/she caressed him/it on the back lifting a pleased prrr. Started over reading. The day later Lori wrote of a friend an eighth month of pregnancy; it said":. The have revealed to spy his/her enormous belly, and she has started laughing. I have apologized her and I have laughed also. What does it have to be to have someone inside? To feel him/it, to call him/it for name, knowing that that sound penetrates inside of you and reaches that defenseless esserino? I thank God that has made me woman. To the he/she will never know thing it means." To the it started to sbocconcellare a stuffed sandwich of salad of the garden. It flowed about ten full days of facts and anonymous thoughts; him he was involving benino, in that period, Lori was enough serene. Then on January twenty":. The would like that it was to surprise. To the if it doesn't wait him of certain. But I don't know how he/she will pick her/it up, it is better perhaps that I/you/he/she discover him/it from itself." And twenty-three":. The don'ts feel well me. To the it is to the foreign countries, busy. We have not spoken of it yet. I am afraid, Á. the has started over being unfriendly. I cannot tell him him. I have to close, now. I don't feel quite well me." The following page was dated twenty February a whole month of jump. There were few lines, written in small handwriting": I don't want anything. To the it has some problems to the job, he/she continually speaks of it. I try to help him/it, but he/she would like us who sustains me. They are to earth. I don't believe to want to risk to repeat this experience. I feel me destroyed by the loss of this child." To the dams the diary of release making to dart the vibrisses of Ric to the insù, that him he was acciambellato against. He/she furiously thought, for a long time. It slowly put back the diary in his/her box. It stayed to observe the flames that were pursued in the fireplace, until the lightnings they were not made fiochi and finally he/she didn't remain but ash. «My God» it murmured «there is something that I knew, of that woman?» 9. Ron timidly knocked to the door of the house of Á. the. The youth was with its wrapping of pills in hand. It was empty; with the maltempo the pharmacy of the country had remained unprovided of it. He believed to have an escort of it, but you/he/she was been wrong. To the it kept on pondering the thing for a moment; they were years that it was not badly, it didn't have anymore perhaps need of medicines. In precedence you/he/she had happened him to stay without pills for two days and had not happened anything. To the it tightened him in the shoulders and it looked for the container of the coffee. It always prepared in excess of it, so that to be able to heat some without waiting too much. Ron meanwhile you/he/she had made the turn of the house and he/she saw Á. the from the window while he/she was caressing Ric putting the kettle on the fire. You/he/she had reached the correct moment. To the it noticed him/it, there out, dripping of water, muddy to the correct point, and it made him sign to enter. Ron sat in the kitchen with a funny timidity; it dirtied the floor of filthy droplets and been lavished in exaggerated excuses. It was the first time that went to find Á. the to house. «How the prisoner goes?» he/she asked Ron sipping the coffee. It was delightfully hot. «Be'.» it made À. the. Two eggs sizzled on a plate of ghisa sending a notable perfume. To the it turned her and it winked to Ron, that politely refused. The youth sat in front of the guest riempiendosi the dish. «I wanted to adjourn you on the decisions of the meeting» it said Ron. To the sforchettò without giving signs of interest. «. that obviously you/he/she has not decided anything» it sentenced Ron «people want to wait, they seem all sure ones that the paramedics will as halo.» «Magnificent» it said Á. the; it lifted the glass of squeeze for an implicit toast «that's all?» «No» it said Ron «I have remembered to have an old transceiver. I would say more ancient than old. From young I was impassioned. It is malmessa, but I can work us.» «You want to say. the spar that is above your emporium?» All you/he/she had seen that long flexible auction that escaped from the roof of the shop. It was so tall to be asked for four long steel connecting rods. To the you/he/she had noticed her, but its curiosity towards certain things was very bland. «Already. It doesn't work, but it would be able. The appointment I/you/they are taken me to mend her/it. One day of job, then or it goes or it is to throw. The mayor lends me a hand. His/her father had something similar.» To the it attached the second egg with unchanged enthusiasm. «Yes» it said «it is an attempt to do.» Ron looked at him/it in strange way for a couple of minutes, sipping the coffee. «Of accord» concluded «considering that you don't ask me him, I/you/they have also come for another reason. The landslide you/they have seen her all, and it is evident that you/he/she has been a landslide because of the strong rains. Any explosion. Pablo has said that you are free as always of circular.» «Grandiose. To go where?» «If you think about departing for asking help I recommend you not to do him/it. It is a damned trip. It doesn't stop raining. In day I could succeed in mending the radio. Then it would be an useless bravery. It waits at least up to tomorrow.» Ron seemed on the thorns; you/he/she was evidently worried for him. «I will wait» it said Á. the «I know much The ams busy to lot.» There was the diary of Lori to attend him/it. He/she cannot wait to start over reading him/it. Ron stayed another mezz'ora speaking of the more and of the less. Then it went to the emporium to mend the radio. The mayor waited for him/it on the door with a big cassette of utensils among the feet. The two entered and they put on to the job. 10. Another ugly day. To the you/he/she had lost the account, by now it seemed, it rained for a long time. Ric gave him the good morning jumping on the bed to complain his/her breakfast. To the he/she mechanically sat to the tavolino. You/he/she had read big part of the diary of Lori, by now, continuing up to the small hours. It was a good reading, that showed two things: first, as Lori had not had fortune to meet him/it, but you/he/she had not succeeded in avoiding the marriage; according to, as he had had fortune to marry her/it, but you/he/she had not succeeded in avoiding the divorce. To the the empty head felt him. It gave it eats up her/it to Ric and it inserted a handful of crisp cereals in a tazzone of milk and coffee. How much simpler, although detestable, he/she succeeded in thinking for filling the belly. You/he/she was still hocked to crunch when it played the bell of the church. Another assembly paesana. To the it finished with calm to eat, the teeth it was washed and it ended to dress himself/herself/themselves. It was not sure entirely to want to go. It didn't know well that people, neither it was very interested to know her/it. For once you/he/she had tried to help - also helping itself same, it is obvious - and those had not reacted as there would be expected from reasonable people. They were afraid, certain. This coesi would perhaps have them at the end. At least, it was how much it hoped for a long time Ron. To the he/she distractedly caressed the cat, then definite to go. Out it came to the great one. The youth put on the raincoat and inserted him in car; the roads you/he/she was crossed by annoying brooklets. The light of the sun produced some light, the temperature was of very under the seasonal averages. To the it drove with attention until near the church. The square was full of auto; it parked far not, then runs to the shelter of the porticos of the negoziettis that you/they surrounded the building. When it entered, good last, made to lift more some eyebrow but nothing. Ron was speaking; the mayor was close to him, and you/he/she had an earth face. Ron had not gotten used to speak in public; it knew them all, but it was able of to take only well them for one to the time. His was the introductory discourse more entangled and inconclusive that to that people you/he/she had happened to feel. The mayor came in his/her help: the cheeks of Ron were of a beautiful red tomato. «Friends» it said the mayor with decision «that that our Ron was trying to say it is that its radio works only for half. It receives only. Which is already something, considering that here the common radios cannot do him/it. Yesterday night we have remained to listen for a beautiful po.' Si sentiva per lo più rumore di fondo. The few transmissions that we have received were in French.» The mayor had been in France different times please, you/he/she was always boasted to know very well France. Also Ron spoke French; his/her grandmother came from Lione, when the nth economic crisis of that country was transferred you/he/she had put in knee the national economy. «The situation is serious» it said the mayor «we should be us to bring help, it seems. All the cities of the world have been stricken from hurricanes and floods. Our rain has created us problems; elsewhere whole cities have been almost submerged. The corpses don't be counted. Landslides, collapses and devastations, here as the world it is. They are six weeks that it rains in south America, the Rio of the Horsewomen has invaded part of the forest. New York. be', we have not understood well, but it seems coop fighting for checking the level of the sea and to lot of roads they have flooded; burdens dikes of The Netherlands have surrendered. The Maldives are been evacuated to the beautiful ones and better, to the moment they live only us the fishes. Common events, in these decades, but for combination everybody now happens together. Do you think it? Usually if it rains here, from another part there is the sun. Statistic. Now no. An anomalìa. Who have felt it is closed in the house, to the sure one from the pillagers, with a good escort of food. In so many zones the commercial system is clogged, the supermarkets are empty, people suffer the hunger. The hospitals are out use, the electric tide misses in a lot of cities. In the southern hemisphere they burn the furniture of house not to die of cold. The list of the facts is long, but the sense you have understood him. Nobody will come to help us. Not for now. If we sent someone to ask help, we would attract here at the most people in hunting of our same resources.» Nobody said nothing. It was too much big, this, to arouse easy comments. The presents looked him among them some lost. «I know how you feel you» Ron intervened «but we have to react. We are to the sure one, here. We have our woods, water in abundance.» nobody had the spirit to appreciate the irony of the affirmation «. our country has great natural resources. We are people gotten used to simply live. The electric tide won't miss: energy comes from the hydroelectric plant on the mountains to ten kilometers from here. It is automated, there is not personal that can run away or to go crazy, goes alone. Its dike is to test of universal downpour.» For how much it played reassuring, Ron had not succeeded in reassuring anybody. Many started to ask questions on the transmissions gained by the radio, but the answers were always the same. You/they were almost all worried for relatives and friends of the near cities, but available information were too you fragment because someone was satisfied. «Thing we do?» he/she asked the lady Heinz. «The rain will end.» the mayor started. «How he/she knows him/it?» it said Bo Gomez, staring at the neighbors with sourness «Ron has spoken of universal downpour. This resembles him quite a lot.» Many shared his/her apprehension. «Already» it got up someone from the last files «you/he/she could be the last rain that is given to see there.» «Suvvia» it still said the mayor «we use the logic. The rain will end. We have only to wait. You know him/it, I am ago years that the climate the tantrums. That that is happening it was not so impossible then to be foreseen. For good part it is guilt of the man. You/he/she is happening now, that's all. It is dramatic, for many tragedian, but it will pass.» Shaken Bo Gomez the large head, mumbling with his his/her own dissent; it didn't count her/it to him correct, the mayor. «How we are to provisions?» he/she asked Á. the. All turned him to look at him/it. Since it was the emporium the only shop of groceries, Ron he felt summoned and it showed an embarrassed smile. «Be'» it said, lifting the voice «I have not been supplied for days. It is a thing on which I have thought. I believe that if we satisfy there rationing the food, we will have of what sfamarci for other three days, perhaps four. More what you already have in the house.» It was not big that as news. Many sbottaronos from the frustration. «We can chase» it said Ron, looking at the Gomezes; they were in the usual mimetic estate from ammazzasette. «With this time?» it said Bin Gomez «a buck you pick only it up if it throws yourself under the car.» «We pick up, then» it said Á. the «there macaws many wild vegetables that grow anywhere.» «Vegetable» it murmured Bin with the same expression disgusted of a sulky baby. To the shake the head; he/she succeeded him difficult to think that people didn't love tubers, salads and grasses of field as you/he/she did him. His/her grandmother had stuffed him of vegetable soups from when you/he/she was a penny of cheese. There in country it was one of the little that the garden did. Personally it was able to go on for weeks,; without gobbling him, certain, but the food was not a true problem. For the one that was in the city the things they went worse decidedly. «We will try to chase» it said Bo Gomez. «Very well» it approved the mayor «and we will also follow the suggestion of Á. the. After the reunion, who knows the grasses wild grocerieses you/he/she is begged to stop himself/herself/themselves a few minutes, we will see to organize us. Ron will take an exact inventory of the products in the emporium, then it will put on in listening to the radio. Some of us need medicines. Luckily the pharmacy is well furnished and there is no serious cases. The bells won't play anymore, except that in the emergencies. Every morning at nine o'clock I will be present in the church, for a hour, with good peace of our priest. Who needs something or he/she simply wants to know how the things go, comes here. If you have proposed that it is the moment to do her. It is for now everything. I don't succeed in thinking to other, grant me and grant you some time to digest this situation.» The mayor had a sign of tiredness; you/he/she felt strong the sense of the responsibility. To the he/she thought that he was involving rather well. Slowly the meeting dispersed him; the mayor drew near to Á. the and beat on his shoulder. «Pleased to see you, Á. the» it said the elderly hand «things happen from crazy person, eh?» To the it reciprocated the regard. «Smart man» it said Ron to Á. the, observing the mayor that went chatting with whom asked him questions. «Yes» it said Á. the, with sceptic air. Ron knitted the forehead. «You don't believe?» «It is not this» it said Á. the «The think that the mayor would have had immediately to organize to team of police. Pablo will be also able, but it is alone.» «Police? To do what? There are not criminal in country» it said Ron, amazed. To the smiled; when he/she spoke of his/her village Ron it became as a wife irrational. «I don't know him/it. But we are in a particular situation and it is not said that all succeed in maintaining the control of the nerves.» Now it was the face of Ron to have a sceptic air. The man set out for returning him of it to the job. To the it detained him to listen to the most picturesque comments, then it went out of the church to reach Ron; he placed side by side while it was going toward the parking lot. «Your radio works, then» it said Á. the. Ron seemed embarrassed. «It goes and it comes, for the truth. I don't believe that it will last. They miss the pieces of exchange. We have gotten by there with component of fortune.» Ron opened the door of the auto. To the it directed him to his. «You watch out» it said strong Á. the. He/she greeted with the hand, turned on the motor and it slowly drove. The rain made every indistinct thing. 11. The morning immediately was clear later that something didn't go. To the it got up very soon, more tired than the usual one; few had slept that night making confused and tormented dreams. As sometimes happened him, even if he/she didn't remember what you/he/she had dreamt, the lived emotional state sleeping had been him stuck. It was in a bad mood. The humor didn't improve when, looking out, he/she saw that a thin drizzle ticked on the garden. And it also became worse when it realized that that night someone had made him visit. In the ground there were big holes where first the pride of the garden was, a sequence of vegetables in leaf of great dimensions. You/they had not been animal; the confused imprints of a man had created some distances regular puddles. They hardly saw in the obscurity premattutina, but they was unmistakable however. «Curse» it murmured Á. the. It uselessly went out for observing the misdeed drenching himself/herself/itself after few footsteps. Six holes, all in line. The sly person wore big rubber boots. You/he/she would have had to tell him/it someone, but you/he/she would not have resolved big that. It abdicated. It had a light breakfast, it was not hungry. It was an ugly symptom, but he/she didn't mind us. You dressed well and it went out; it felt the need to stir. You/he/she would have ignored completely the rain, for taken party. It made a long turn marching with a regular rhythm afoot. To feel his/her body that worked had helped when the illness had gathered him, years before. You/he/she had not immediately understood thing was happening; the simplest things had become a problem, he/she didn't succeed in facing her. The marriage suffered of it, but he could not admit to need help, even to itself same. Anxiety was gradually climbed on, an anxiety without motive, permanent and terrible. He/she succeeded in pretending well with everybody, but you have to arrive next to the point of breakup to appreciate the professional help his/her propinatogli despite. It was the beginning of so many frustrating tests, any medicine seemed effective. The worse fact was that you/he/she immediately could not realize if you/he/she was using the medicine that did for him; they had to spend weeks before if they saw the effects of it. You/he/she had spent good part of a lot of nights to open eyes, listening to the slow and soft breath of Lori. You perceived his/her difficulty without succeeding in individualizing the causes and Á. of it the you/he/she was been careful not the speak to him of it; if you/he/she would be gotten by halo, as always. The job, in that period alienante, didn't benefit. Same Lori didn't benefit; it was not his/her guilt, naturally, but to have to appear the usual normal Á. the of every day added further stress. Reflecting, the youth been granted a bitter smile; everything also Lori you/he/she had not known on him what was to know. To the it accelerated marching among a long plethora of firs; it made an ample curve, it returned back then for another path. It dawned. The weak light of the day he made space among the clouds illuminating the landscape. It was indeed a very beautiful world, this, even if it seemed gone crazy. To the he/she thought continuously about Lori, now. You asked if also she had involved in what was happening or if, as he, had found an angle of planet in emergency, but however some most normal. He/she saw his/her house that drew near, footstep after footstep; it didn't enter, it directly went to garage, taken arc and quiver - if the era done by hand, with the skill of a true redskin - and it grabbed the target. It was made out of compressed straw and it weighed an accident. It positioned him/it in the courtyard behind the house. It spent the whole day to throw with the arc, in beard to the rain. The braccias hurt him, it was from quite a lot that he didn't practice in so intensive way. Half afternoon was already gone by when it realized that its hands trembled. It was not the work. It looked her as if they didn't belong him. It put again all to his/her place and it entered house. You surrendered to a hot shower. Ric rubbed him to the door of the bath; the whole day had been neglected. The bell rang while Á. the he was dressing. With the due calm the youth went to open. It was Ron. «I have not seen you to the function, stamani» it said the dealer. It was him really escaped, the mass; Á. the conducted him/it in the kitchen and it put to the fire of the coffee. Ron looked at him/it of tralice; it didn't have a beautiful aspect, that boy, but it didn't say anything. To the it lengthened him a packet of biscuits. It was the second time that Ron came to find him/it; it was kind. To the left half open the eyes trying to think; when it is that you/they had become friends, them two? «After the mass there has been the meeting of the country. I make you a summary of the reunion. There were almost all» Ron started. It started laughing «even the fetid sisters.» To the it stared at him/it without understanding. «They call this way her» it specified Ron «Isabelita Gomez, wife of Bo and the two little sisters old maid, Reia and Tia. They makes to very rarely see, here around. Because calls her fetid I don't know him/it. Even they are washed few, but I don't think that I/you/he/she am a simple matter of foul smell. They are not of the true Gomezes; that is the last name of his/her/their husbands. But they want to have called however this way. A lot of clan, understands ago. They say that someone, a big man, had done him him to notice. Of the last name, I intend. Few missed us they tore off his head from the neck.» To the it was not very interested to those humorous remarks and his/her face it expressed well him. Nevertheless could not the young one refuse to think": but how much devil am I/you/they, these Gomezes?" Ron recepì something of the humor of Á. the, because it stopped sneering and it returned with the thought to the contents of the reunion. It looked at the ceiling in I strive him/it to assemble the ideas. «The Gomezes have gone to hunting and you/they have taken only some thrush, to how much they say. Obviously they are their preys. For nobody was waited that shared with the others.» The two men smiled. «My radio is exhaling the last breath» taken back Ron «I have done mine beautiful compares discouraging to the mayor. Nothing again from the world, the usual disasters. Of the regions here nothing is not known around. Of the beautiful one and of the good one is taken for making to intend him/it to the people it. Old friends and relatives, understand. And the emporium has received a nighttime visitina.» To the it lifted an eyebrow. «Food?» churches. Ron nodded. «Qualcosina. They have been polite.» To the it told him of his/her garden. «You should be careful» it said Á. the «perhaps we macaws halo to the beginning. You would do well to give you a weapon.» Shook Ron the head. «They have only to make local mind» it said «they need time. Heck, I also need it me. Our true wealth they are the neighbors.» «Unfff» it made Á. the «how the Gomezes?» «They have been useful with the matter of the dynamite.» To the it didn't feel like embarking himself/herself/themselves in the usual conversation. «Of accord» it said «you dine with me? Pie of vegetables.» It told him/it hoping that Ron didn't accept. It had fortune. «I am not able. The mayor wants a complete inventory of the emporium for domattina.» To the not insistette; perhaps Ron had realized that something didn't go, and perhaps no. The two was greeted. To the he/she remained to the window observing the effect of the lighthouses of Ron on the beating rain. 12. The bells of the church woke up suddenly Á. the. You/he/she had not slept that night, you/he/she had succeeded in taking alone sleep toward the dawn. Ric, alarmed, it came to complain about himself/herself/themselves of that noise weakly meowing. To the it looked him at the hands; they trembled more, now. The neurotrasmettitoris of its brain were picking up him her comfortable without the medicine that goaded them. It got up and he quickly dressed. It didn't have breakfast, it had some it nauseates. Without thinking it prepared the breakfast for the cat and it went out. The orange of the cat jumped against the windows and the white curtains while Ric followed I make an attempt the departure of his/her/their master. To the it arrived soon to the church; around a pair of cars were parked only. It rained, but gently. The pits were not too much even floods. To the it entered church looking for the first time the clock; they were you are her of the morning. Stirred among the counters, but he/she didn't see anybody. Then next to the altar it perceived of someone in knee; there were the mayor and Mr. Heinz, lowered above to body. The extended man to earth was Ron. To the it quickly drew near. Ron was pale, it had a big hematoma on the forehead and blood on the suits. You/they had stretched him above a thick cover and with another they maintained him/it to the warm one. Heinz held the legs lifted for favoring the influx of blood to the brain. «Thing has happened?» it said Á. the. «To the» it said the mayor «someone has entered the emporium, tonight. He/she didn't believe that there pits Ron. I had sent him to take the inventory. You/they have beaten him and stabbed. Ron has succeeded in reaching the first residence, that of Mr. Heinz, has knocked and you/he/she has fainted.» To the it bent him on the poveretto; the blow in head was bruttina, the wounds on the side and on the back were not deep but to judge from the state of the suits owed to have lost a lot of blood. «It is weak» it said the mayor «you/he/she wakes up a couple of times. It stutters, then it loses the senses.» Heinz had a remorseful expression. «I would not have had to bring here it» he/she confessed «but I hoped that there pits someone whom he/she knew whether to take care of him/it. I/you/they are not gotten by well never in critical situations.» People were starting to arrive. You was forming a capannello of people around the wounded. The mayor handled to say how much he knew what happened. Pablo entered dark in face. You/he/she must be directed by the mayor. «The emporium has been emptied. The whole food has disappeared» it said «but not only. What you/he/she can be used as it arms you/he/she has been brought away.» You/they had felt everybody. People started to get scared himself/herself/themselves. «We think about Ron, now» it said Á. the. «Correct» it arranged the mayor ignoring the clashes of the presents. «Let's bring him/it to my house» it suggested Á. the «there is no healthcare, here. A house is worth the other.» The mayor fixed the young one for a moment. «No. Excuse me, but you have an ugly wax, Á. the. It is not the case to burden you of this. It is better if one of these families does him before. More people in the house can manage better it.» Mr. Heinz drew near. «You/he/she has come from me» it said «I have not chased him, neither I have intention to do him/it now. Let's bring him/it to my house.» This way it was definite. While, with the help of Pablo, Á. the gently lifted him/it, Ron he woke up. It was very confused; he/she saw the young one that held him/it for the shoulders and it smiled at him of a dark smile. «I didn't believe, Á. the, didn't believe.» it whispered, almost incomprehensible. It did for adding something, but it seemed whether to speak gave him pain. To well to look, the language was swollen and sanguinolenta. The hit in head owed to have made the mouth of release close with the language among his teeth. From a showy cut on the forehead it kept on going out blood. They loaded him/it in the auto of Heinz; it had a very long relative and the trip it was alone of some hundred meters. The three men that brought him/it entered the back of the auto with Ron. Mr. Heinz put on homeward slowly to the guides and procedette. The mayor asked to Pablo: «Who will have been?» Pablo thought of us an instant. «Doesn't ask me him, Mr. mayor. Also without tests, I would be tried to answer her.» Nobody said other, but all thought about one of the Gomezes. The auto jolted, jumping a hole. «There is another thing» it mentioned Pablo with caution. To judge from his/her funny expression almost seemed that it feared to cover himself/herself/themselves with ridicule. «Here. different elderly ladies you/they have called me; be', they lately call me all, and for the strangest things. They make me race. These ladies were very disturbed, you know, you had to feel her. From when the telephones don't work my office you/he/she is visited by the most unlikely messengers. For two change they come me to take and they bring me from the afflicted citizen. I have seen four of them, yesterday.» «Pablo, is worse of Ron» it was a mayor «I hope that you will end with to tell us him, sooner or later.» «Ugh, you excuse» it said Pablo «you/they have called me because of their company animals. Cats. There is that they have disappeared.» 13. After you/they had systematized Ron for benino, Á. the didn't want to I give anything hilts other than to return him of it to house. It didn't feel entirely him in form. Mr. Heinz was kind; taken back the car and it brought them in plaza of the church. To the it entered the auto greeting the mayor and the police officer. It did for turning on the motor, that however he/she didn't want to know of it. It was an old car, certain, but you/he/she had not left afoot never him. To the it still tried. After many attempts the auto weakly coughed more and more; it was a problem of battery. To the it cursed and it went out of the auto in time to see Pablo that unthread beside him. To the it gesticulated and it ran after him/it lifting pluvius spray. Pablo and a bit returned back. It threw down some the car window. «The auto doesn't depart» it said Á. the. Pablo made him sign to climb. «It is too soon for the mechanic» it said «you come, I accompany you to house. Ah, no, first I have to pass in a place.» «Any problem» Á. the responded. You/he/she would have walked gladly normally, but at that time the legs seemed him heavy as boulders. «Of accord. Footstep from the Gomezes, is only an instant.» It was almost interesting, for Á. the; after all it was curious to know where it was that kind of family clan that I know much made to speak of itself, for dark the badly. To the you/he/she had not known them all, he/she knew only that that it was said of. Pablo followed the road with attention, slowly driving; the outskirtses were pleasant, the houses appeared from behind small high ground to the sudden one, never too much neighbors in the road. Each was surrounded by garden. They reached after a couple of minutes an agglomeration of houses to hundred meters from the principal street; there was there a secondary road excavated that it directed him toward east aiming to the woods. Pablo took her/it, covering with mud the car of ugly. It, the roadway was a whole hole, the puddles watered the grassy borders. Pablo stopped him in an ample square in front of a white house of wood; a beautiful house, not very well estate, to judge from the discolored portico and the wooden partition punctuated by spots of brown rottenness. «It is the house of Bo» he/she explained Pablo extinguishing the motor «many have pressed the mayor because I came to check. You know, for the matter of the theft from Ron. But they have not been the Gomezes: that morning they were to hunting while the fact happened. I know him/it why I have accompanied them me. It waits here.» Pablo went down from the car; it was to about ten meters from the entry. The ground was a sticky mud. With a noise of I kiss takings to stamp on the mud, that stayed him stuck to the sole making to skid him/it. Assembled as it was for not falling it grabbed on without attention to the pole that held up the protection roofing of the door of entry. It slightly stumbled, it moved the weight of the body from a foot to the other and it breathed a sigh of relief putting the heel on the dry floor. That touch all it took is for dirtying a pair of meters you square of floor. Pablo tried to remove mud's clot glued to the sole, but being that that it was he/she succeeded in the intent projecting part of the zozzeria on the portion of wooden partition been clean. To the it observed from in the car and you/he/she could not do to less less than laugh. Pablo lifted the eyes to go himself/herself/themselves to the door of entry, in time to take him a big hit of ax in the middle of the breast. To the it held back the breath following the trajectory of the poor guy that arched him on the back and it noisily fell to earth. The hit had removed from him the breath and gotten certain a beautiful livid, but nothing more: the handle of the ax, now that Á. the looked better at it, it was without blade. Pablo complained him, stretched out to earth. «Stattene there, ugly meddler» it said the figure appeared to the sudden one, muffled up for protecting himself/herself/themselves from the rain; it was a hoarse and female voice. The woman brandished the wood pole threatening other hits. To the it went out of the car, it went to assist Pablo. The woman served capolino as the hood of the raincoat and aimed the auction toward Á. the, that ignored him. Pablo coughed a couple of times, making sign that was well: in the small pocket of the jacket the notebook and the pen were undone, but you/they had reduced the hit. The vest had made the rest. «Mrs., The ams Pablo.» it murmured the police officer trying to get up. The woman, low and sturdy, it drew near him and, surprisingly, a foot put on his stomach. «I know very well who are» it said her, and it trod the sole on the belly dirtying her/it of mud seeds solid «what I don't know is what you want, here. Apart to dirty me the portico.» Pablo built. «I don't understand.» it mentioned «mines is to control of routine.» «Be', go to serve him/it as another part» taken back the donnone withdrawing of a footstep, always on the who alive «we don't like those any government. There is not any government anymore, by now. Each for itself.» Pablo assumed an outraged expression. Mrs Gomez didn't allow him to say nothing. «The men are out, to hunting» it grinded, almost spitting the words «I don't like that someone comes here when they there is not.» Pablo didn't know whether to say; the woman, Isabelita Gomez, the wife of Bo, goaded him/it with the baton. «Vattene» concluded. A child stained with jam served capolino as the door of entry, but you/he/she was chased away again within immediately by a rapid look of his/her/their mother. Pablo was to opened mouth, incapable to put together a discourse. To the it beat on his shoulder. «We go, Pablo» it said «we don't do us nothing, here.» Pablo he allowed to drive to the auto; it entered, waiting that Á. the he sat nearby him. The auto departed of rush, it made an ample curve and him reimmise in the wide road. «Isabelita Gomez. I don't understand her/it» it said Pablo «I had never had problems, with the Gomezes.» To the it grinned. «People change, especially in the moments of difficulty» you/he/she said «there is who throws out the best, who the worse.» «It needs that I/you/he/she talk to the mayor of it» it said Pablo, more to itself same that to Á. the «you/he/she cannot be left these liberties to someone.» «Correct» it said Á. the «but careful to have its authority.» The auto. Pablo was now starting to put to fire the situation. «I represent the authority of the mayor.» «There is no authority without strength.» «What you want to say?» «You have your gun. The Gomezes have quite a lot more.» Shook Pablo the head embittered. «It needs that I/you/he/she talk to the mayor of it» it repeated. It kept on slowly driving with worried expression. They were almost arrived to the house of Á. the, but already from to make it was evident that something didn't go. The wicket was wide open and a luccichìo from the windows underlined some broken glasses: someone had entered with the strength. To the it jumped from the car and it entered house. «Curse» it said the young one. The intruders had made a slaughter house; you/they had entered with the dirty boots of mud - you/he/she would have been arduous to do otherwise - and you/they had disseminated material sticky on the whole floor. Pablo had followed Á. the and it contemplated the inconsolable vacuity of the ransacked refrigerator. «You/they have taken that that there was» it observed Á. the «meat, vegetables and cheeses.» To the it wandered about for the whole house, seeing that other you/they had combined. Pablo followed him/it as a little dog. To the it almost crouched him to earth, observing the imprint of a mountain boot. It was particular: besides the zig zag left by the muddy rubber, a coat of arms distinguished him to the center of the sole. A small couple of wings sorts of slime it still stayed well engraved on the floor in wood. To the it turned him toward Pablo: you/he/she was noticing another thing. It grabbed the police officer for the braccias studying the muddy abdomen of it. Smiled. It brought Pablo in front of the mirror of the bath. «You were right, Pablo» it said Á. the «they macaws not the Gomezes to steal here and there. They are his wives.» Reflected to the mirror, Pablo contemplated the imprint of two small wings of mud left him on the body from the piedone of Isabelita Gomez. 14. Ric was not found. At first Á. the thought that seeing to arrive of the extraneous ones the cat had escaped to the outside; it went to call looking for him/it in the outskirtses: Ric detested out star with the rain. Then Á. the reentered in the house and he/she saw that it also missed the sack with his it eats up. «What you/they make of a cat?» he/she asked Pablo. To the it looked at him/it dark in face. «Ever eaten a cat? They say that it is good as the rabbit.» «Oh, street.» it mumbled Pablo. Did it say Á. the seriously? «Because no? Reserve of fresh meat, if it ends that already butchered» it said Á. the «it needs that I/you/he/she take back him/it to me.» Pablo appropriated the breast of the young one, even if he had not stirred of a millimeter. «Not to even think of us» it said the police officer «it allows to do to me. Now I go to the mayor. We think there us. It misses only that someone goes to pick out the Gomezes some legal channels.» To the it didn't have a convinced air; he/she already saw him/it, Pablo, that went to the mayor to tell him that his/her cat had lost. The mayor would certainly have been stunned of it. «You have to promise to be me calm» it confirmed Pablo «it stays here. I have to find the way of seeing that they combine, in their ownerships. Are happening too of it. You promise.» To the it was tired; the hands trembled more, now; you have to hide her in the pockets of the plush. It promised. Pablo left the house after other reliefs. To the he/she remained to look at the spicinìo of glasses and the I dirty everywhere. You/he/she would have liked to lie down himself/herself/themselves on the couch and to pretend of nothing, but he made strength and it polished up every thing; it mended well the glass to the and better using abundant adhesive ribbon for packages. At least you blab him you/they had disappeared. Once ended it didn't rest; taken to walk before and back frustrated by the impotence. Ric was his/her family. It was only a cat, certain, but he/she knew how to make to feel his/her elegant presence with rushes of affection that Á. the you/he/she would not have believed: it dark behaved from dog, that from cat. You/they had found the way of communicating meeting himself/herself/itself to half road; Á. the had learned to give him the correct signals with the voice and the language of the body, Ric you/he/she had started to express emotions and intentions with meows that dark resembled dark and elaborated to discourses. To the shake the head, not to think. Pablo was perhaps right, it was always also the police officer of the country and it deserved some trust. With an effort deliberate Á. the diverted his/her own thoughts. It still had some things to read, the last part of the diary of Lori. It grabbed a fruit left by the careless thieves there and it started to sbocconcellarlo. Also taken the diary. It was almost after all, by now. You laid down on the carpet and it began to read. It passed good part of the afternoon so, without acknowledging the time that passed, until him made not account with amazement that had ended. The diary contained other pages, but they was empty; the glances slowly, for safety. When it was about to abdicate he/she met another written page. It was to great and accurate letters, different in the style from the notes of quick and tiny handwriting that you/he/she had just finished. You/he/she was not given there. "Dear Á. the." he/she read. You immediately interrupted. It was not waited that there pits a direct letter expressly to him. You/he/she would have been able to read those lines very before, if you/he/she had not been for the acridity that climbed on him every time that he/she thought about the past moments. Lori had written her after you/they were separated. You/they had not been able to serenely converse, in that period. You/he/she had also been very bad, and I force him/it fact to avoid that Lori discovered of his/her illness it had him sfiancato. To the resumptions to read putting himself/herself/itself more comfort. "Dear Á. the, this is the only way that The have for telling you something. To communicate among us difficulty has become too much. The games are made, by now: the separation is official. The way according to which you/he/she has happened is almost worse of the same separation. A stuff among lawyers. It didn't seem me that we had voice in cause, in this. But it doesn't care. You have perhaps wondered because I have decided to leave you. You/he/she has been me impossible to explain you him, till now; when I began the discourse I lost the control of me. They are not the cold suppers that you left me to consume alone while who knows where you were, or your monumental egocentrism; not even your obsessive job. It is that I/you/they have been wounded enough. I didn't succeed in bearing him/it anymore. I have tried to understand you, always. I believed to know you, but with the time you are changed, you have created an impassable wall to defense of a part of you that you hid, you have left out me. Once we spoke so much and from that I understood that needed me. Of thing you have need now? I/you/they have not succeeded in penetrating your caress and I don't have the energies to keep on trying. Yet I remember that boy from the dreams some unreal ones that loved to chat: you also tormented me the night, even if the day later I had an operation. I have always let you do, it is one of the things that I liked of you. You took yourself care of me, then we were a family. Then you have gradually stopped doing him/it. I don't do a guilt of it. I don't make you a guilt of nothing. Perhaps I was not enough, for you." To the it dissuaded the look for an instant; left half open the diary and it opened more some the curtains of the stay. You poured a sip of water looking himself/herself/itself at the palms of the hands. They trembled. It returned to take a seat and it reopened the diary where you/he/she was interrupted. ". There is to message that The have to leave you; but The don'ts want that you react disdainful sbottando without giving me time explain him/it making use of that sour rhetoric in which has always been teacher. You don't have to demolish me him, this time, so I write you him. You can stop reading, certain. It is a choice. But you won't do him/it, if nothing else for curiosity, or perhaps for a form of respect that you know to owe me, because I have always lived with you as loyal companion. I won't be close to you to try to convince you there. He/she leaves aside the animosity. Laws, simply. This way, here is my message. The people are important, Á. the. The family is important. The people. I don't say for me. It is important for you. I know you or, at least, I want to believe him/it. Not do ignore the people, would hurt only yourself. Remembered because you have started to be a journalist. You have always had need to take he/she takes care of yourself of the people, not to run away her/it now. Whoever there will be in your life, not to forget that you need it, you have need to take care. What other are we if not the reflex in the eyes of the other? They are the others to tell you who six, this I have learned him from you; not to give up the others and the others not rinunceranno to you. I have not done him, I have not abdicated: I have had only to go for saving myself. Among us you/he/she has gone so: I can accept him/it. But I don't accept that I/you/he/she surrender yourself to that that you have become. Remembered as you were. If you are changed it is perhaps because you have forgotten what it was still important for you before the life, with his/her complexity, it dissuaded you from the simple things. The people, Á. the. The people. The rest doesn't count. Don't lose sight this, and then you can give a new sense to your life; close to me you have not succeeded there, you have forgotten your same nature your needs. It is also perhaps my guilt, perhaps I was not the proper companion. I don't know him/it, I will be sincere. I think a lot, in this period, and he/she anchors I don't succeed in shinily elaborating all. But of this that I write you I am certain: the people. The family. You are done this way. I know him/it. Don't forget him/it. To the, I will pray for you." To the he/she read again again the letter. Closed again the diary and it put again him/it to place. It delayed for a long time to look at the rain that ruled the glasses with small translucent beads. It was of supper almost now, the first shades of the evening darkened the landscape. It was not hungry. With a sudden release, Á. the runs to take the raincoat and he/she quickly wore him/it, but with attention. It had a friend to save. It went out closing the door and takings to march under the water. The movement immediately did him/it feel better. Did it reach the church soon, did it go beyond her/it; it slightly puffed, did it avoid the rare autos in movement now, (but where did you/they ever go, that guys?) and it coasted along the government one for different minutes, ignoring her frequent puddles that insinuated him in the asphalt crepolato. Walking tried to become convinced him that that that you/he/she had decided it was not so idiotic. To go to provoke that good sons in their den. it was burdens from crazy, it admitted him/it. It is Ric it was a cat. But Á. the was always burdens picchiatello. and then, how much and as it needed to be friends to offer help in the need? There were some things that had to simply have done because correct; even if there was even to face of the few of good person. And was there also the point not to grant them: how much be takes advantage of the people of Delora? If someone immediately didn't try to establish a limit, a limit there would not be more state. What heck, to make the rascal toward the innocent ones must have made difficult. To the it lifted the head, leaving that some pluvius bathed him the face. Smiled. Even you/he/she had twisted rotten and they were all lies. Perhaps you/he/she had already lost the sense of the reality, the illness had perhaps arrived fully already, it disturbed its ability of judgment, it diverted its thoughts. You/he/she had been so in past; this thing altered him the way of appraising the world and produced pain. Not the pain of a kick in the shin bones or of a stab. You/he/she could not be located, it didn't seem physical. It was a thin blade that insinuated him in the soul making unbearable also the most peaceful daily paper. Probably, only ugly chemistry. But it weakened the spirit, it cut the legs. To the it inhaled increasing the footstep to avoid that the incipient evening, inscurita from the maltempo, gathered still it on the road. You looked around at smoothing himself/herself/itself the eyebrows it soaked with water piovana. It didn't exactly remember where it had to turn, but its memory worked above all for images in these matters, so it put on calm and expeditious procedette, in attended that the geography of the places told him something. Here, after a few other minutes of march it recognized the deviation and the entrance to the stony road that had already crossed with Pablo. The houses of the Gomezes were there a little anymore an in, surrounded by puddles and mud. To the it did behind-front and it returned back for about twenty meters, it crossed the road for I handed on the side of the roadway from which it detached the ramification toward that simpaticonis. From his/her side, later as soon as a pair of meters in which grass and low plants, they immediately began saplings and some leafy and thick stem dripping furious droplets. To the it stopped him an instant, listening to of it the chiacchiericcio with the ground. Over he/she was not seen really well, but the thick forms of tall and dark trees made capolino among the roars. Then he/she left the government one and it set out toward the wood walking among the fields, avoiding the head of hair of the tall vegetation not to get soaked really entirely himself/herself/themselves; when it was found in the thick of the trees it shook the hood and he discovered. The branches were so dense that the rain didn't succeed in penetrating. There was here and there only a continuous dripping, where water found free outlet. There were a lot of puddles, the brushwood didn't succeed in digesting that extraordinary and incessant precipitation. To the it revolved the installation of the Gomezes without seeing him/it; a was found a little more aloft, in the full one of the forest that surrounded him/it. He/she knew that there were five houses each lived by the one of the five brothers with the family narrow and various relatives. After some it gathered the first signs of it, the fireplaces they smoked abundantly. To the it was fortunate; the rain fell even more strong, now you/they would hardly have seen him. It drew near to the house of Bin, the first one, turned around you; the residence didn't have garage, it was small and deprived of attached external. It changed building, moving himself/herself/itself and avoiding the windows. Desire came him to crawl as a command; he felt foolish, and you/he/she would have been too much a damp matter, so it continued normally walking. It was almost to the house of Bo and Isabelita. Surprisingly in garden there were his/her children, wet rotten but happy. They played to chase each other himself/herself/themselves making a lot of noise, and they were very dirty. To the it detained him on the back of the house, it bewared of the windows; there were bedrooms, empty. You moved on the wall north. His/her children would have been able to see him/it. You crouched. Isabelita opened wide the door of entry to the sudden one, three meters away from the head of Á. the. He/she barked to his/her children enjoining them to take refuge himself/herself/themselves in the house. These, reentered reluctantly drying himself/herself/itself the feet against the poles of the portico. His/her mother arranged them a sonorous nocchino without offering word. The little boys didn't complain him. They entered directly racing to the sweets in refrigerator. The door beat leaving alone Á. the under the rain. After some instant the young resumptions to move himself/herself/themselves avoiding the windows. It was on the back of the replacement now, the most promising place; a great and well done construction. You have to cross an unsecured bit, with a feeling of itch to the shoulder blades, it was finally set to the first wall of the building; attended a second before entering. It handed the ears; some sound didn't feel him originate from the inside. It opened the door with decision and it closed again behind her of itself. The environment was a true disaster; stracolmo of stuff there was not almost place whether to put the feet. A lot of things were certainly of Bo but Á. the you/he/she could see the clean and well worked metal of the piccozzes ounces in salt from Ron; there were other articles of the emporium and also of lowered the that came from its same kitchen, of whose disappeared account was not made even. The room gave on other doors. To the it opened her all; a lot of heaped up stuff pressed on the walls. In a small room there were three big well refrigerators. To the it didn't open them, it passed nearby to the room. Five pairs of eyes observed him with interest. Ric was consuming some croccantinis; it stopped and it came to greet him/it scolding him/it for the delay. You rubbed to his/her knees. To the at he looked around; yes, you/he/she had seen a wicker basket to the entry. It went to pick her/it up and it inserted us Ric; it did for leaving, but it considered us. Picked up the other cats talking to them to calm them. It covered the basket with a dark cloth, trying to stare at him/it so that not to make to pass the rain. The cats were calm, to the dark but one of them it complained him for the fear. «Silent, cat» it whispered Á. the. Taken the whole food for cats that it found. It tore a strip of plotted by the filthy curtains and it passed her/it among the sweaters of the basket. It was a primitive harness, but it was better than nothing. It opened the door and at he looked around. Anybody. It made contrarily the run jumping the examination of the house of Bin. It had that that he/she wanted, now. When you/he/she had entered the wood he felt better. Taken the road of the return marching with regular rhythm, and to the meantime it tried to reassure the frightened animals talking them to peaceful voice: there was there some uproar inside. It went out of the inerbato and it trod a foot full of mud on the grey surface of the government one. It beat you both the boots, it systematically inserted then all the puddles that it found for cleaning himself/herself/themselves the sole. It slowly walked, now. It began to do dark; the sun was never seen, but by now also the diffused brightness of that day was beginning to diminish. Ric had to tell him something, there under, but Á. the didn't have the opportunity of giving him straight line yet; it supported better the basket, it continued the walk without hurry minding to where it put the feet. To the of the fool been said for having thought badly of his/her same idea. Everything you/he/she had not been so terrible, neither so risky. The Gomezes would be him irritated some, certain, but you/they would not have given big weight to the disappearance of the cats. Perhaps you/they would not even have understood that someone had come to take back them to him. Ric was good to slip himself/herself/themselves in the minuscule holes, difficult to hold back him/it in imprisonment. You relaxed and it continued the walk to light cuor. It arrived home with the almost complete obscurity. You unthread the boots before entering, cleverly, from acrobat, forcing on the heel with the point of the feet. It opened wide the door and it deposed the earth basket with a puff of satisfaction. It opened him. Quite a lot quick gambettes darted in all the directions. Then, when you/they were reassured, the cats started a meticulous examination of the new environment. To the stretched many newspapers in an angle of the bathroom and it sprinkled them of sawdust. How litter could go. You relaxed a moment, but not more: five vocettes invoked the supper. 15. It was time to change. To the it was convinced of it. Even if that morning the head hummed, even if it started to feel in the legs the kind of tension that in the past you/he/she had prelude to the worse, you/he/she would have gone to find Ron; you/he/she had shown him friendship, that man, although Á. the had not done anything to deserve her/it. The people are important. To the if it repeated him/it from when you/he/she had gotten up. It played well. The people are important. It didn't have breakfast too nausea. But you/he/she would not have allowed that trifle to prevent to do him that that it felt correct. For so much time you/he/she had lived away from itself same; after the writing of a book, its first true book, was also time of this. Lori was right, naturally. You/he/she had almost always had her. When it appeared in stay you/he/she was welcomed by a mighty meow: moustached heads complained little darlings and food. To the it distributed them both, with moderation, then it dressed him to go out. A light drizzle in the first morning made to feel more cold of that that it was. You/he/she had left his/her auto in front of the church; a scab that breakdown, but after all he didn't care it, it didn't have to go far and you/he/she could walk. Taken the road with decision, slightly puffing. There was not around anybody, it was sooner perhaps of that that he/she believed. He/she didn't know the time, they were years that it didn't possess a clock, neither it heard the necessity to have him/it. It marched expeditious until it didn't reach the church, it went beyond her/it and it abandoned the asphalt for a stony path that conducted to the small villa of the Heinzes. The outskirtses were well taken care of, ornate of flowers and studded by magnificent secular trees as an ancient and splendid garden. The cottage was in red mattoncini and endowed with an exaggerated number of fireplaces, that you/they gave him the aspect of a house of the fairies. The Heinzes had bought him full of enthusiasm for the life of country, but you/they had not succeeded in integrating very well himself/herself/themselves in the small community. Helmut Heinz was one of the little that the garden did, but it was I deprive of green thumb: its tomatoes decayed before maturing, the salads stayed lower case letters, the fagiolinis were full of insensitive lice also to the most drastic treatments. However it kept on trying us. He/she listened to the suggestions of all the neighbors, that you/they often knew less than he, lavished more vainly time and energies for the. Only a summer succeeded to well to show up in the cultivation of the zucchines; but it was so gotten used to fail that you/he/she had sowed too of it and for weeks the family was sipped breakfast zucchine, lunch and supper. To the it arrived near the house, not knowing well thing to do; it was soon indeed, my goodness, it risked to wake up all how much. It stayed to crumple out the door for a bit, then it felt a movement in the entry. It drew near a few, and then it noticed only that the lock had to have been forced; it was full of scratches. The door didn't seem anymore then to close well. From an ample crack the light of the entry filtered to the outside. To the it bent him toward the lock, just in time to introduce his/her face to the scopettone of Mrs Heinz. The woman, with the eyes spiritati, had appeared of sudden on the threshold provided of that unlikely weapon, and it threatened seriously to give a sweep to the hairy chin of the young one. To the it made back a footstep; the lady recognized him/it and allowed to fall the broom. You/he/she had shaken seriously. «Mrs. Heinz.» it mentioned À. the. The woman put on a hand to the breast without offering word making him sign to enter. His/her daughter entered the room of run stopping himself/herself/itself of stroke of forehead to Á. the. «My dad is made evil» you/he/she said. You saw that it was frightened. To the runs in the adjacent room. Helmut was to earth, the head covered with blood; you/he/she had not fainted, but even entirely in itself. He/she saw Á. the without recognizing him/it. It got up and it grabbed him/it for the collar. «Gomez.» it murmured «Gomez.» To the it put again him/it to earth, kindly; the man upset the head and takings to observe the ceiling. To the it gently deposed him/it on the pillow handed him by his/her/their wife. «Thing has happened?» he/she asked Á. the. The lady didn't succeed in tearing off the eyes of back to his/her/their husband. «I/you/they have gone down from few» it said «I have felt some noises, I have found him this way. The door was open.» To the it looked for the bath; taken a towel, it drenched him/it of cold water and it returned from the wounded. Cautiously it polished up him/it from the blood that you/he/she had dirtied face, neck and suits. A wound could now be seen along the forehead, due to the impact with a long body but not sharp, as a baton. The blow had been enough strong to be created a beautiful hematoma; around in the mean the skin had been removed and blood slowly went out of a bluish ripple. «Holds always bathed the towel with cold water» it suggested Á. the «we look for at least not to make to big bump as him.» Helmut was inactive, but conscious; he allowed to do everything without showing pain. That and its misted eyes frightened more than the wound. To the it inserted the kitchen and the refrigerator opened. It was empty, the Gomezes had arrived there also. It looked for some ice, but there was not even that; then it went to bath, it imbued another towel and it put him/it on the forehead of the wounded to mo' of turban. Helmut had a shiver of cold but it didn't protest. «We cannot stay here» it said the lady «I am afraid for my daughter.» To the it looked around him with attention. Then he/she saw the cabinets of a locker disclosed. The locker was empty. The woman followed his/her look. «The fuciliera of Helmut» he/she explained «there were his/her shotguns. He/she bought her when we arrived here. He/she thought about becoming a hunter. Then it discovered that it was not for him.» To the it opened two lowboys: there were the wraps of quite a lot packages of ammunition, empty. «Food and weapons» it murmured Á. the. The houses of the Gomezes were not distant; it seemed that the dawn was their preferred schedule. Habit of hunting, evidently. «You will come to my house» it said Á. the, impelled of. Its house was probably the most distant from those of the Gomezes. You/they had already been from him and you/they had taken that that they were able, from the Heinzes perhaps no: Helmut owed to have caught them while they were entering him house. «I don't have the car. We will take yours. Later I will go to talk to the mayor and we will see if people will want to do something.» Mrs Heinz looked straight at Á. the in the eyes. «Because?» churches. To the it reciprocated the look of the woman. He was not really the last to have an idea of the why of the things, but certain it felt rather after all him to the line. Not this time, however. It had a precise opinion on the intentions of the Gomezes. «I don't know him/it, lady» it lied. Helmut had to seem an ideal victim, mild as it was. «Ron where it is?» he/she asked Á. the. «Than above» it said the baby, approaching himself/herself/itself to the young one «it is a big sleepy-head.» «Mrs., hands here the car before. I go to take Ron.» «It will have to bring him/it of weight. You/he/she has put badly, he/she doesn't even succeed in speaking. It has the swollen language as a grapefruit. Does it make her/it to bring alone down it?» «Certain, lady.» The woman weakly smiled. «Stops her with this Mrs. My name is Eva.» To the runs than above and for the first time you/he/she could give a more industrious glance to the wounded. Ron slept; it had a big livid bulgy on the head and almost the whole swollen neck. His/her aggressor owed to have tried to tear off his head to hits of baton. Ron he slowly woke up, you/he/she had perhaps perceived the presence of someone that was nearby him. He/she greeted Á. the with an indication of smile, that however it deformed him in to paradoxical grimace; it also tried to speak, but he/she succeeded only in showing to funny expression of suffering. Also the only attempt to open the mouth had to be a torture, it imagined Á. the. And who knows as he/she ate. To the it made him sign to make silence. «Everything is all right, Ron. I bring you to my house. If you are able it tries to help me.» To the it grabbed him/it for the shoulders, it turned him/it and if it hoisted him/it on the back. It weighed an accident. The young descents the staircases with caution, making her scricchiolare; the auto was there already, Eva Heinz held the lifted back counter. To the it gently deposed how much it was able the body of the friend, then it went to take Helmut. The man stared at him/it without saying nothing, conscious but inactive, as if the outrage of the suffered violence had removed from him every vital energy. The young one also loaded him on the shoulders him and it deposed him/it close to Ron. The two was observed without speaking with an eccentric expression of mutual disgust. To the it put on to the guide and Mrs Heinz he/she sat nearby, with the child in arm. The trip was brief and silent. To the it parked in front of house and it repeated contrarily the transport bodies. It had two rooms with as many beds; curse, both to the close-up. Crossed the staircases with more work of that that told to see and it assigned a bed to every wounded. «You will sleep on the couches» it told Eva «I don't have other.» «The couches will be all right» it said the woman. To estrange from proper house had made her return some complexion. The baby he allowed to go to a gridolino of enthusiasm; feeling uproar the cats you/they were passed in stay. Ric rubbed him to the legs of his/her/their master, the other ones they stirred here and there, uncertain on the to make himself/herself/themselves. To the it bent him toward the baby. «I don't know your name yet, Miss.» «Mine. You have some fantastic cats.» «To the. Well. What do you say about taking he/she takes care of yourself of them? Later I will tell you as he does.» The baby clapped the hands, pleased. You bent to caress the animals, that surrounded him looking for attentions. His/her mother smiled. Someone knocked of sudden to the door. Eva worried him, visibly whitening, but Á. the immediately reassured her/it. «Certain mob doesn't knock» it sentenced with calm. You felt scalpicciare in strange way, there out. As if you/they had come to find him/it a group of friends after a night of carousal. Be', after all a tantino of apprehension could be us. Who cabbage was, to the entry? To the it cautiously opened the door. It was the mayor, and it supported a Pablo from the stunned air. The poor police officer had an ugly livid on the head, evident because of the short hair. "Oh, no. Another" he/she thought Á. the. The mayor hastily entered helping Pablo to reach the couch. Eva Heinz put on a hand on the mouth and conducted the child in another room. Mine was so assembled on the cats that almost it didn't acknowledge anything. The mayor panted. «I didn't know whether to bring him/it» it told work «I have thought about going from the Heinzes. You/they had been kind with Ron. But I have seen the open door and of the blood for earth. The search of their auto I have put to and I have seen her parked here. Is They well?» «More or less» it said Á. the «thing has happened?» «The Gomezes. They have entered house of Pablo and you/they have brought away him of everything, also the gun of ordinance.» «They don't even take care of him more than to act of hidden» it said Á. the. «Already.» «What it does us lifted to this time, mayor?» The man blushed. «Be', Pablo cannot do alone all. To my age I sleep little. I made a nighttime watch.» To the it didn't say anything; some that had in abundance of it of crazy persons, that country. However, his/her house he was reducing to a lazzeretto. «The wounds to the head seem to go for the most greater, this year» it considered Á. the, observing the blow on the capoccione of Pablo. It was as that of Heinz. Pablo wandered about with the eyes, prey to an evident fit of dizziness. «You leave here him to me» it said Á. the «it is not the houses to move too much it.» «Yes, you/he/she has been a beautiful hit» it said the mayor. To the it conducted him/it to also see Helmut Heinz and it told him what happened. «The house is filled you, Á. the» concluded the elderly one. «It is not a problem this. The true problem is the food. Me almost I don't eat, but I now have three wounded, a woman and a child.» «I can bring you of the mattresses and something from the pharmacy. But you are right: the problem is the food. People don't want to give to whom doesn't have of it; Pablo doesn't have anything in house and the same me. But to my age the food is optional.» «I know me whether to go to pick him/it up» it said Á. the. The mayor looked at him/it crooked, but you/he/she didn't ask questions. «You have an ugly wax, Á. the» it said only. The youth had two purses under the eyes with which you/he/she would have been able to easily shop. To the it made spallucce. «We have to stop them. Does this know him/it, true, mayor? They will keep on storming of house in the house to make sure himself/herself/themselves to have the whole food and the weapons. Sooner or later something irreparable will happen.» The mayor assumed a cautious and sad air. «You don't know how much you are right. They have also entered the room of the old Flo, tonight. His/her child has found the emptied house and his/her mother to earth in a puddle of blood. A stronger hit of the necessary one. Not wanted, I believe, but the result is that. The lady has a tenacious physicist despite the age, I am sure that if you/he/she will get by well. But it is pure fortune. You/he/she could end in tragedy.» To the he/she didn't know whether to say. It knew neither that Flo nor his/her child, but it was another fact however what it struck. The mayor shook, as he wanted to avoid to draw the natural conclusion but you/he/she could not do to of it less. It stared at Á. the with intensity for to moment. It strong. «They will boss around. I know him/it, Á. the. But I don't have an army. I will try to talk to the people stamani. I doubt that it will serve to something. We have against quite a lot rifles and types without scruples. You know how it works, the community spirit goes to make to be blessed when it comes with facing a thing as this.» "The people" he/she thought Á. the" at times it has to be also protected from itself same." «You thinks about bringing me medicines and mattresses» sbottò the young one of impulse «to the rest I think me.» The mayor concerned him/it crooked, but you/he/she didn't say this time also anything. Or it was really too tired, or it had the strongest sense of the discretion that Á. the had ever had the opportunity of appreciating. The elderly one went toward the door and with a sign it quickly directed him toward his/her own auto. To the it looked at him/it leave again. He/she knew where you/he/she would have gone; the bells of the church would have started soon their song. Eva reappeared and told a glance Pablo without offering word. «I have of it enough» it murmured Á. the. It looked at the woman «I go to take to eat. You closes the door and calm coop. For now nobody will come here, apart perhaps the mayor.» Eva the takings an arm with the hand. «I don't know what you have in mind, but not to do madness.» You/he/she had given him of the you; nothing how much a common difficulty so quickly makes friends. To the smiled as soon as, then it shook the shoulders. «Nobody would notice her. Lately they have been of it, of insane gestures.» The eye squeezed her. What would you/he/she have done? He/she didn't even know him/it him; that that he/she knew it was that being passive to suffer they would not have that the things worsened. You felt false and the hands trembled him, but you/he/she had never been so determined. 16. To the you/he/she could not believe us; it still rained. It was a kind of record. He/she didn't remember a similar season in the past, neither you/he/she would have forgotten this, even if for well other. Taken the car of Heinz and it directed him to the installation of the Gomezes; it slowly drove, aware that was doing something without neither head nor tail. Was thing already, doing in reality? Also now that it overcame the last turns before facing a rectilinear, and after that the Gomezes, didn't have idea of that that you/he/she would have combined. It acted of impulse. It didn't have a plan. Always that pits indeed him to pick up decisions and not that irrational goblin that it sprang from the schizoid folds of his/her infirmity, now uncontested. However, was it so wrong to follow the instinct? The best things of his/her life you/he/she had come from that. As when you/he/she had known and married Lori; you/he/she would never be happened if you/he/she had not followed the impulse to express his/her appreciation in his/her comparisons, in spite of her corrosive gab, discovering the side and picking her/it up therefore of surprise. And because then it had lost Lori? For his/her mania of control, because he/she didn't want to let him go; it had to pilot her/it, this life of his, his/her job and, more in great, it had to govern other people's opinions with easy literature and conventional services. And its relationship with Lori had also maneuvered, making him/it vacuous, artificial. A plastic relationship. You/he/she could not admit his/her own brittleness, above all after the onset of his/her troubles. You/he/she had erected therefore a wall and continued so, until his/her equilibrium you/he/she had not made splat as a huge defecation of cow. You/he/she had been the instinct to bring him/it to Delora, to welcome Ric. You/he/she had been the instinct to make the first serious book write him. And you/he/she had been the sinister ratiocination to ruin marriage and health. And now? You/they could be I/you/he/she risk us from the Gomezes. But who if not Á. the same was correct it corrected them? It didn't have very to save, it would not be missed to anybody. The fellow townsman could enjoy of his/her example, an appointment coming from one that didn't have big need to lavish him/it at the end. To the if it got by better than all of them, in that situation. Certainly it was not an action of courage his. To the it was not a martyr; the Gomezes, however malevolent, you/they would not have hung him for the thumbs. But to show to also be good ago something for the others for the careful people that are around you. The people are important. To the it tightened the fists on the steering wheel. There was then that child been ever born. A small Lori. It thought continuosly about the matter from some, Á. the, in small tastes: it was not able to digest together her everything. A hard thing. It imagined that you/he/she had so also been for Lori. A hard thing. Heck, it was him/it for him, even if he/she anchors it was not ready to admit him/it. It got further the thought in an instant, it enlivened too much of his/her mind; it was pleased to see that the road straightened him and from now on him a rectilinear dark color protected him beaten by the rain. It was almost arrived. It knew well by now the place even if the maltempo made all nebulous. It parked on the government one, to a certain distance, for a spirit of prudence not entirely rational. It made the last piece studying himself/herself/itself the vehicles parked in front of the residences afoot. The autos in reality all were in front of the house of Bo. You/they were stopped from not too long, to judge from the light nebbiolina that spread from the chests. To the it brought him toward the entry of the house; luckily someone had scattered abundant sawdust on the ground, at least you/he/she would not have risked to dirty the floor with his/her boots. The landlady seemed susceptible, on this. From the residence the sounds of a lot of voices came. There were the men, inside that you/they spoke strong, gesticulating for describing who knows what scene, and there were the children of all the families assembled in the great stay, with Bin to serve them as nanny. The pover'uomo had not accustomed there and you/he/she would certainly have preferred to participate in some it raids. To the it served capolino as the windows, trying to understand how many adults there were. Be', it was useless to crumple. It had to try to communicate with them. To take time, even, to benefit of those of the country, until someone you/he/she didn't wake up finding again some civic sense; the Gomezes were armed, but they were little. It played. At first it seemed that nobody had felt, Bin kept on sipping him the squabbles among his/her/their children with desolate air and there was no trace of the ladies. The men however you/they had stopped shouting. To the it felt a scalpiccìo behind the door and it tried to frankly assume a friendly air. Bo opened wide the door and stared at him/it with interlocutory look; he/she was seen that it strove him to remember who pits that as guy adequately drenched by the rain. «Ah.» it did, Bo. You/he/she had connected, but it was evident that it didn't appreciate the visit «. the snoop lover of the cats.» As I begin it was rather discouraging; Á. defined the ones to pretend of nothing. «I know making a turn for the families» it quickly said, for fear to be interrupted «those that come always not in the church.» Bo stared at him/it with inscrutable expression. «I have a good news» it still said Á. the, with forced vivacity «everything well in the world there out. Soon the paramedics will come to give us a help.» Bo stared straight at Á. the in the eyes; although it was lower than him, Gomez was dark decidedly strong, and it had to that in the attitude that prevented from feeling himself/herself/themselves to really ease in his/her presence. As if there was no limit to what would have been able to do. «What you tell me» it said Bo with colorless voice. «Already» it said Á. the «as soon as The have known him I/you/they have as here.» «You/he/she has told you him the storekeeper, this?» it said Bo leaving half open the eyes. «No» it said Á. the «Ron is not able to speak. You/he/she has taken a blow in head and he/she doesn't almost remember anything of the last days. But the mayor knows how to use his/her radio.» A fib. Here is thing tried to trim. If the Gomezes had believed that the management of the territory had not come to miss, you/they would perhaps have given up trying to get its control. «What happens?» it said a low and fat man, that resembled to Bo. You/he/she had appeared to the sudden one behind his/her shoulders. To the it recognized him/it even if you/he/she had not seen very around never it; it was one of his/her/their brothers Gomez, the more youth, didn't have to have more than twenty years. Mac, called. «It says that they are been wrong» he/she explained Bo «what we can be calm, because here a lot of people will come bringing I/you/he/she give us. How is the cat, Á. the?» Mac looked at his/her brother without understanding, Á. the slightly turned shovels. Bo continued. «To the you/he/she has made us a visit, but we was not there. This way you/he/she has returned.» Bo could not be sure that he had been to take back the cats, but certain it was a more probable candidate of some oldie tormented by the disappearance of his/her own cat. Another brother Gomez appeared, behind Á. the. It seemed that they strove him to take is caught him/it that day. It was the stupid brother; Á. the didn't remember his/her name, but he/she knew that if there was to I give of to job sacrifice, in that family it was his turn. It didn't resemble to the stock of the Gomezes; it had a slender build and the was as tall as Á., but the look was inconstant and fleeting, deprived of expression, as he/she knew to bad punishment to be there. The man was wet as a chick but you/he/she didn't give importance to the thing. It had a big hunting rifle between the hands and the soaked boots of mud; it looked at Á. the without interest and it was planted in front of Bo. «There is a car on the road. It seems that of Heinz» it announced. It had to be a kind of look-out. To the it knitted the forehead; sentinel on the road, weapons, the reunited children in an only room. It had the whole air of an organization military style. Smiled Bo. «Thanks, Place. Have you come with that, true, Á. the?» To the he/she didn't answer. Gomez looked at his/her brothers. «We see some» it thought continuosly about «you accompany here the police officer. You take back your cats. You do you her with the storekeeper and the German. You come here to shoot us your lies. I wonder me what your next movement will be.» «Anybody movement» it said Á. the, with calm «the things will systematize halo him, as The have said. Matter of times. You are free not to believe us. But this won't change the facts.» The hostility of Bo infected the other two brothers. All stared at Á. the. «The things will systematize him, it is true» he/she affirmed Bo, slowly speaking «to our way. It is our country, now.» There was a certain trapestìo behind Á. the; the women were going out of the hut of the cats, where you/they had ended to systematize the merchandise fruit of the last robberies. Isabelita was undoubtedly the leader; it walked in head to everybody, grasping the handle of an ax without blade. Seen Á. the, taken to play ball him/it to him among the hands directing himself/herself/itself toward of him. «Mrs.» it said À. the. The youth passed in review the faces of the presents. Incredibly all changed expression. Also Bo put aside his/her arrogance and showed a certain uneasiness: they were decidedly afraid of her. The woman didn't say anything. It maneuvered with ability his/her baton; Á. the followed the notable evolutions of it, until that it didn't strike him the left calf tearing him to dark cry amazed than of pain. The youth put an earth knee, incapable to sustain his/her own body with the offended leg. Smiled Isabelita. «Well, some respect» it said. Then it assumed a dark air. «Better of when you have come furtively to take what is mine. I don't like who introduces in the house as a young thief.» «I don't even like it» it murmured Á. the, the leg massaging himself/herself/itself. «What you say?» it made Isabelita. «As I explained to his/her husband, lady, the things are not so ugly as we believed. The time is changing and the helps will come soon. They will free the roads and they will put us in condition to leave the valley.» Isabelita fixed him/it as you/he/she had said a heresy. «To leave her/it? This is my valley, now, and it won't come really anybody.» It assumed a cunning air. «Yes, I understand because you tell him/it. The mayor takes to care calm to have time to organize a civic police. Thrown time. The country is full of spineless.» «Spineless without weapons» it specified Bo. «They will be him/it» his wife corrected him/it «when we will have made visit to all how much.» To the it inhaled deeply. «It is so, then.» «It is so» it said Isabelita Gomez, playing with the baton «for an order that goes, a new order comes. Mine. In difficult times the strongest and their children survive. The other ones also live. With the crumbs.» The youth looked at the woman striving himself/herself/itself not to express a motion of mockery; Isabelita was not very believable as queen of Delora. Then him made account that would never have convinced them; it was a stupid idea since the beginning, that to make to reason them. It didn't stay him whether to leave of there all whole. «Of accord» it said Á. the «The have told you him.» It did for setting out, but Isabelita didn't agree. The baton aimed against his stomach. «Rivoglio what you have taken» it said «within a hour. The resources of this place I administer her me, now.» "This here rivuole the cats, but in reality they don't interest at all her" he/she thought Á. the. "An action of subjugation, here is thing pretends. Poor Ric." It slowly removed the baton. «Mrs.» it said. It made an indication of regard to the others and it was started toward the auto, followed by the Gomez sciroccato. To the it was not very happy: the ultimatum of Isabelita didn't leave him select. It tried to reason ignoring the tension; to be as it was it made him appreciate other people's life how come, and to despise the proper one. And then the Gomezes would have kept on raging in the country making some evil to whom happened them under hand until the police you/he/she had not come from the near cities. How long did have to pass before elsewhere made him account that there to Delora there was some serious problem? Perhaps in that same moment someone he was directing there. Perhaps the area was not around there so ache put as other zones of the planet there was still an efficient government to manage the situation. In the meantime? After he had gone the Gomezes you/they would have returned in hunting, risking to make innocent victims. Sooner or later the corpse would have escaped there. And then, considering that he would have ignored the order of the Gomezes, would you/they have come to his/her house for a punitive consignment? To his/her house, currently shelter of three wounded, a woman and a child. If you/he/she could do something, it was the moment to try us now. To stop them, was too many and well armed not. To slow down them. To the it kept on walking and it entered car under the vigilant look of the least aware Gomez, that Bo had called Place. To the turned on the motor and it abandoned clatters him for the asphalt of the government one. Taken the road of the return. After a pair of curves, to the shelter from indiscreet eyes, it went out of the road and it parked under a grove of pines. It extinguished the motor and descents from the auto. It opened the back porthole and it extracted a backpack; if it inserted him/it. Taken his/her arc and if it put him/it to the shoulders; it grabbed and it tied the quiver among the shoulder blades, removing him/it backpack. He/she remained in patient attended. 17. It seemed unbelievable but spiovendo was. The air was still saturated of damp and in the pregnant wood water dripped and capriolava from the trees up to earth. To his/her borders, Á. the waited. The man opened the chest of the motor and detached a pair of threads voters, that that you/he/she was enough because nobody could start him/it; then closed again and you/he/she shut the counters, the key inserting himself/herself/itself in pocket. It looked at the clock; matter of minutes. Sipped the arc and it tried the rope of it. It notched an arrow and it studied the distance from the road. About twenty meters, perhaps less. It had a border of acceptable error; an auto would have passed him before offering his side for at least two draughts. Taken a piece of bread by the backpack and it started crunching him/it, more for nervousness that for hunger. You have almost immediately to put again him/it to place; the rhombus of a motor in acceleration marked the end of the time that was to his/her disposition. You/he/she had hoped that in that time something of good person happened, even that someone he made road with the bulldozers to the footstep north and it appeared together with ambulances and police, but nothing had not happened. The auto almost immediately appeared; it was a pickup truck of the Gomezes, two people were seen on board with two rifles supported to the back seats. To the brims the arc, cursed then; the autos were two, the first one was followed by the fuoristrada of Bo. Taken well the aim; you/he/she had not gotten used to strike targets in movement. It struck, contemplating to the anterior wheel of the pickup truck. Bin, to the guide, it felt a metallic hit next to the wheel and it for a moment, alarmed. The arrow had struck the ship boy of the wheel, the exact center; a perfect draught uselessly. Too delayed. The caution of Bin allowed to Á. the to take another arrow and to strike aiming at the back wheel, this time keeping in mind of its speed. The rubber exploded with a pleasant din; the pickup truck skidded and Bin crushed the pedal of the brake with all of his/her strength. The vehicle made a half pirouette and stopped him on the wrong side, occupying both the passages. Bo didn't succeed in avoiding him/it and bumped the face of the pickup truck making to rotate him/it of ninety degrees and bringing him/it in roadway. The curses of the man came up to the young one, that notched another arrow: the draught was easy, now. The steel point hammered him in the wheel back right of the fuoristrada, that slightly tilted him from a side. It was time to melt her/it to him. It put on the arc in shoulder and he/she left the auto of unguarded Heinz. The Gomezes shouted for road, trying to understand what had happened. They saw the three arrows; Bin, incredulous, it tore that from the wheel of Bo and it showed her/it to his/her/their brother. These it entered car and takings the rifle, immediately imitated by the others. To the you/he/she was giving us inside; it had to make to lose his/her traces, but not too much. It walked, almost runs for two hundred meters, attended then that the Gomezes acknowledged his/her parked auto and they did two more two. He/she saw them look for his/her imprints on the ground. They were easily visible in that point. It counted four men, the Gomez sciroccato had remained of watch to the residences. Earth was all mud. The spirit of the hunting picked them up; they aimed the rifles, pleased of that diversionary, and smiling they scattered him directing himself/herself/itself toward Á. the. The ground did him more irregular, where it directed him the young one; it was a zone that he knew well, but the Gomezes also knew her/it, since it was near in their house. To the he/she left other imprints, more and more roadsteads, until it started to stamp on everything how much there pits of solid. The path was rocky now, impossible to follow the traces. The Gomezes were outdistanced anchor remaining within shouting distance. To the it raced while the Gomezes wasted time to look for earth. The ground saliva. Now Á. the could see the houses of the Gomezes piled up there in low. It brusquely steered I pour the houses to the shelter of the trees. Raced more silently possible on the ridge, coming down and hoping to arrive down before the more decentralized of the Gomezes intercepted him/it from his/her side. To the it raced now crouched, an uncomfortable thing, with the point of the arc that rubbed on the wet soil threatening with making to fall him/it. The team of the Gomezes was by now in sight. Mac was the last of the line; Á. the saw him/it for first and it crouched against the trunk of to tree not to make to be seen; then it crawled, stretched out in dense the dry foliage, avoiding the gores of mud that surrounded him. Mac was to about thirty meters, but it was slow. The slope, that whole flesh and the safety of whom is well armed they made him/it less officer of the necessary one. To the you/he/she could not crawl anymore, you/they would have felt him; around him there were many fallen branches, also of discreet dimensions, victims of the maltempo. It picked up more branches that it was able, sat with the back against the tree and been sprinkled the legs of fallen leaves, then it put the branches to protection of the bust. It was a foolish attempt, realized too late, but luckily Bin didn't direct there him. It passed him to around ten meters distance, enough to make that effective hideaway. To the era enough rapid state to be avoided the net of the Gomezes, after all. He/she left that his/her brothers proceeded in that direction for a few other minutes, then it got up and runs toward the agglomeration of their houses. Descents of run the slope. It didn't risk more than to make himself/herself/themselves feel, so it still accelerated and it reached the house most distant from the road. It revolved him with caution spying the inside through the windows. Anybody. Runs I pour the house of Bo, worried because he/she saw neither the fifth brother nor the women. In the stay of Bo his/her children and two ladies were to sfaccendare, another was in the kitchen to prepare to eat. Well. The fifth woman was on the point to catch him/it next to the capanno of the cats; you/he/she brusquely went out from there, bringing a bundle toward the kitchen. It was some the food that the Gomezes were gotten to their way. To the it was defile as soon as in time, he/she let her/it enter, then it peered at from the window of the capanno and he/she saw Isabelita that was systematizing packets in one of the three big freezers. You/he/she could not withstand; he/she wanted to be certain that the Gomezes chased only the him and he until you/they had held up their the strengths, and it now had the occasion to guarantee him/it to him. It entered the capanno and riaccostò the door. Furtively it drew near to the room where Isabelita was. It was stronger than him, it was illogical and dangerous, but that was always also a woman, fat and very low. To the it entered. Isabelita turned him and in an instant its expression passed from the pleased one to the irascible one. To the smiled, but immediately lost the good humor; the baton of Isabelita, that she evidently held always with itself, it hissed to a palm from his/her head. It made back a leap and the woman followed him/it moving the wood in fluid way; you/he/she missed again it, you/he/she destroyed a pair of shelves and the vases that were us above. To the it estranged from that fury but the woman it pursued him/it and sferrò another attack; Á. the jumped of side as soon as in time. The baton rotated around the body of Isabelita and appeared from the other side directing himself/herself/itself toward the head of Á. the. The youth made back another leap striking the dividing wall with the shoulder blades. The woman continued the movement the wood bringing himself/herself/itself on the head but Á. the you/he/she had of it enough: you/he/she anticipated the hit and you/he/she grabbed with the right the handle of ax that went down on him stopping him/it. The woman tried to free pushing him/it to it with both the hands but Á. the you/he/she contracted the muscles hardened by the use of the arc. For an instant the two looked him in the eyes. «It hurts you that to me» it murmured Á. the. It was not worth big that with the left but the fist that sferrò came really well: Isabelita, amazed, he/she left the baton and it pirouetted back clumsily to the without control. It struck some flour sacks with the face, it bounced and it fell to the ground, whitish to spots, incapable to stir. «Injured majesty» it murmured Á. the «now yes that you will chase me the.» Taken the baton of the woman and it did for throwing him/it, then it considered us: it suited very well him for the spaces in the quiver and it slipped him/it. Nearby a noise in the room told him that the direct woman in the kitchen was returning. It estranged from the door; the woman entered, looking for Isabelita with the eyes, then you/he/she acknowledged Á. the and of the strange position that had hired the wife of Bo. He/she sent a smothered cry. To the it made her sign to make silence. «It is my country» it said Á. the, that had to good time to this point. The woman listened to him/it as hypnotized «you Gomez you will do well to adjust you, if you don't want that I/you/he/she happen you something ugly. Does understand?» The woman did of yes with the head, submissive. To the you/he/she had always dreamt to make the part of the bad one, since when, child, had participated in the scholastic performances. But it was too much chubby and polite and you/he/she had lost all the occasions. Be', you/he/she would also have lost this; there was no taste to frighten that tizia. With Isabelita you/he/she would have been different, but it was not sure entirely that she could remain impressed by his/her foolishness: you/he/she was made of everything other pasta. It made sign to the woman to deal himself/herself/themselves with the bruised that, conscious, it fixed his feet with glassy look. To the it went without turning back himself/herself/themselves. In the square there were four autos of the Gomezes. To the it extracted an arrow and it punched all the rubbers, that got flabby. The vehicles it was useless for the time being. From the door of the house it went out another of the women, incuriosita from the puffs of the rubbers that deflated him. When he/she saw Á. the runs in the house and he/she almost immediately succeeded with to rifle of it. «Oh oh, lady, let's speak of it» you/he/she said Á. the, to safety distance. That was a shotgun to pink wide, over the thirty meters it was not able to kill anybody. However the young one got further toward the road and the woman, with evident awkwardness, it shot a hit taking of graze an auto. To the it notched an arrow and runs toward the road. As it was waited, the fifth brother appeared of run: you/he/she had felt I shoot him/it. To the it was ready, while the other one raced badly grasping his/her weapon. Place for taking the aim, it rotated the fire mouth toward Á. the; the youth was still in advantage, but only for few instants. «No!» it shouted Á. the. Gomez was aiming the rifle toward his belly; when Á. the was certain that the other one would have shot it struck, contemplating in low. The sciroccato said a bellow of pain, almost letting himself/herself/itself fall the rifle; the arrow had pierced him the thigh. To the he/she thought about having put out it game, it was a wound that surely made an evil of the devil. But that didn't mention to slow down; now it had a hot tempered expression, almost wild, and it brandished the rifle as it was an ax. To the it notched a second arrow and it appraised whether to strike the arm that held the rifle; Place in reality seemed to have forgotten to hold him/it, it kept on racing staring at him/it with the eyes spiritati. To the without contemplating it threw by instinct and it also pierced the second thigh. This time Place didn't send forth complaint; raced stronger, by now nearby. The third arrow pierced his foot, him/it; the man slipped and fell to the ground shouting of anger. To the he/she didn't want to kill; cautiously it got further, it put on the arc on the shoulders, it reached the road and it appraised a moment whether to race toward the wood that climbed him on the hills. Almost firm, the youth jolted to the hit of rifle. A long grey strip had scratched instantly the road, twos meters from its feet. On the hill to his/her shoulders, the Gomezes were returning to the cars, almost certain to have lost the prey, when you/they had felt the shots next to their houses. To the era in a bad position, now: to race toward the woods put him/it unsecured for a long line, to return back it brought him/it from Place. There were the abandoned autos, more before, in the middle of the government one and with the doors still opened wide; to the runs toward that only shelter while another bullet hissed next to its head; the Gomezes shouted happy, now, seeing that the fate lent them a hand. To the it reached the pickup truck; it had the open bauliera but for what had in mind it was not all right. It passed then to the auto of Bo; the back luggage van opened, therefore it revolved the vehicle and it entered the cabin. A hit of rifle struck the car window of the passenger and a hail of glasses it bounced everywhere, depositing nearby himself/herself/itself in prevalence on the seat to Á. the. The youth was fortunate, the keys were in the picture; it almost counted us, in reality, since Bo had been too taken by the greed to catch to take care him/it him after all. The auto immediately departed. The youth said gas and it brutally bumped the pickup truck to more resumptions to make himself/herself/themselves road. The face of the auto deformed him, the lighthouses crumbled him on the bumper of the van. A tall cry of anger raised him from the hill while the other Gomezes, regardless of the fury of the most greater brother, they sneered commenting the manoeuvres of Á. the; it was evident that they thought that the young pits in trap, any good attempt had in mind. A hit of rifle made to jump the small mirror retrovisore. Another takings the spare wheel in the luggage van, that slowly got flabby. To the it pushed the pickup truck, while the wheels skidded on the damp asphalt. The ship boy of the perforated wheel started to smoke for the attrition. To the he/she succeeded in making himself/herself/themselves wide while the group in hunting slowly went down toward the government one; the auto finally accelerated, lopsided, with the steering gear that answered fifty-fifty, waddling here and there. The young one he was getting further. It made hundred meters sharpening the asphalt, then four rifles thundered together everybody. To the it handed the back now, protected in certain measure from the wide open chest of the trunk; but the bullets squirted more in low, they bounced on the ground and they went to torture the tires. Everybody exploded. To the arrancò for winds meters, and for other winds, eating what stayed some rubbers. But you/he/she had arrived where he/she wanted: it went out street and considering that you/he/she would never have been able to run away, it was projected against the borders of the same brushwood from which the Gomezes came, two hundred more meters in there. It rotated the car with one skidded satisfactory and it struck the first trunk of tree with the back of the car. It now handed the face to the Gomezes. His/her brothers made him a sign of agreement; you/they would not have let him go down. Walking with safety, one to the time shot to the doors and the anterior lunotto. To the it bent him to shun the hits, it crawled on the back seats protecting himself/herself/itself the eyes from the endless fragments of glass and metal. Bo reached the auto for first, it opened wide the door aiming the rifle first at the seat of the driver, then on those back. He/she briskly cursed. To the there was not. The back seats were inverted, Á. the was passed in the porter and from there to the outside, himself/herself/itself in the wood while they had to good time shooting to its auto. 18. «You/he/she has not gone so badly» it said Bin. «Ah no?» Bo roared. The automobile was reduced to a wreck. «It looks» it said Bin pointing out the deformed back bumper. Blood was stained with. The humor of Bo improved. Smiled. «Let's catch him/it» concluded. The wood took to go up again the hill with so many paths, more or less defined. «It owes to have taken one of these» it said Bin. Mac Gomez the said a spallata of prompt. «Strength. It has a small advantage» it incited. His/her brothers divided him scattering himself/herself/itself in the brushwood and they took to go up again the hill. To the it looked at them disappear behind the trees. It went out of the hideaway limping, freeing himself/herself/itself of leaves and mud; the legs were to place, in reality, the problem was a dishonorable rose of little balls that the meat of the gluteis had engraved him. The wounds were not deep but painful. «These boys will never learn» it mumbled Á. the. For the second time they thought him/it of escape on the ridge, while he drew near to their houses instead. You/he/she had not been really a choice, however; the wound prevented him from stirring to duty, better finding a more permanent solution. To the it directed him toward the group of residences watching out for not to leave imprints on the ground. It was not difficult, all it took is entering all the puddles that he/she saw. It arrived to the house of Bin without problems; it was the most isolated and perhaps inside there was no anybody. For too safety it risked to be open; a woman, the wife of Bin, discussed with Isabelita in the room from lunch. You/he/she was doing her of the you package on the eye that Á. the had outraged and the virago complained him to every movement of the poor girl. If you/they had seen him you/they would have howled as eagles. To the it turned around the house and it found a disclosed window. Shaken the head; that people didn't want to pick seriously it up. It entered, complaining himself/herself/itself for the sharp pains to the buttocks. It was in a room. It went out in the adjoining redemption, that gave in the stay. You/he/she could see the two busy women in a dense dense conversation. It extracted from the quiver a hunting arrow from the sharp point and the sharp edges and he/she jumped to the sudden one in the middle of them, it pushed the more youth and it pushed the point of the arrow against the carotid of Isabelita. «Silent!» it said Á. the, pressing the blade against that neck vizzoso. The young wife of Bin suffocated a cry fixing the drop of blood that rivolava from the point to the aluminum crossbar. Isabelita looked at him/it with interest and without showing fear. «What you believe to do?» it said «you are not the type of man that can stop us.» To the a point mentally assigned her for its coldness. «For now I get by» it said him. To the the surrounded one was untied some pantalonis. The girl put on a hand on the mouth. Isabelita opened wide the eyes, while Á. the he lowered pantaloni and underpantses. It was not the moment to do the ashamed one. Isabelita fixed the hairy and muscular legs and the prospicienza among the thighs. «You would like it, litterbug» it said Á. the. The woman lifted the eyebrows interdict. To the it made sign to the girl, that understood all other. «Mrs.» it did low and dismayed «it is insatiable, he/she also wants me.» «Suvvia, gentleman» it said Á. the had to good time one «riparliamone another time. I now need cares. You, take some gauzes, some water and of the disinfectant. It makes an attempt to you, as you see the throat of the lady it easily punctures.» Isabelita looked in the quiver, incuriosita from the primitive weapons of that man. Together with the arrows it recognized his/her baton. To the it hastened. «It is mine now. I bet that you would like to use him/it on me as you have done on the others.» The woman smiled. «It will be a pleasure» it said «I will tell the men to hold you firm.» The youth entered the room with the necessary one. To the it handed him another arrow; that disinfected her/it and it observed with the maximum attention the wounded bottom of the young one. «I will end up blushing» it said Á. the «it starts.» The girl cautiously inserted the point of the arrow in the most superficial wounds, easily extracting the little balls of it, almost without pouring blood. It cleaned and it disinfected with care making to tighten the teeth to the young one. Then it passed to the deepest little balls. It was a half disaster; the girl trembled and you/he/she was reducing the ache buttocks party. To the it tightened more still the teeth; he/she didn't succeed to tender Isabelita under control with the arrow, feared now to cut the throat of her/it for error. The said ones a push, sending her/it against the fireplace, it extracted the arc and it notched, holding her/it under draught to distance. The little balls fell bouncing on the floor with delicate tinnii. «I am out almost all» it said the wife of Bin «you/he/she has remained one of them, but it is too much depth.» «Get away» it ordered Á. the. «It is deep» that whined «I don't succeed there.» «You owe.» The young one surrendered him and takings to look through with the point of arrow, but it was afraid to do him/it with conviction. After some I draft the gluteo you/he/she was uselessly sprinkled of blood. «So it doesn't go» it said Á. the, gasping from The strive him/it to bear the pain «it enters with astute the point the hole of entry, it sinks, divarica, polishes up and looks.» Isabelita stared at him/it with great attention, still supported to the fireplace. Perhaps if it enjoyed her/it. The girl polished up from the blood the buttock, you/he/she leaned the point on the hole served as the little ball and you/he/she pushed strong with both the hands. The point entered completely, and Á. the almost allowed to go the arc for the suffering. Isabelita had his/her occasion. From behind his/her back a poker of the fireplace appeared, the woman brandished him/it as a sword and tried a lunge in the stomach of Á. the. The youth saw the danger and rotated the arc to intercept the iron; it diverted him/it that so much that was enough for making the target miss him, but the arrow notched lost contact with the rope and it fell to the ground ending under the feet of Isabelita. The woman prepared him to another stab but Á. the you/he/she was faster; with to rapid gesture you/he/she fished at random from the quiver withdrawing of to footstep. Isabelita advanced while Á. the notched. It was not an arrow, that that Á. the had grabbed, but the strong baton escaped to the woman. There was no time to change; it notched him/it and extended at the most the rope. The youth attended up to the last instant, restìo to still use the violence. The point of the poker was already dangerously near when it allowed to go the rope. The baton something departed and it bumped there before, the deaf sound of the impact separately felt him. For a moment it seemed that you/he/she had struck the wall, but the poker didn't rage. Isabelita stared at Á. the with absent look, it almost stumbled, for an instant it seemed to recover himself/herself/themselves. It collapsed abruptly then to earth, while the first signs of a grandiose bump appeared in the center of the forehead. The young wife of Bin held back the breath, frightened. To the it placed the arc to earth. «You end the job» it ordered. The woman dried the wound, sprinkled with a sponge dipped in the basin full of warm water, you/he/she opened to the left then the incision some dart: nothing; you/he/she did to the right the same, and here that a beautiful lead little ball made its appearance, abandoned on the thin foil of the point of arrow. He/she filled the ravine of water, opening even more, while Á. the silently sang psalms from the pain. Water, blood and the little ball escaped and they fell in the basin. The girl took a long gauze, you/he/she disinfected the wound and you/he/she bandaged the buttock with ability. It was some narrow, but at least Á. the would not have risked to bleed himself/herself/themselves. «Thanks» it said Á. the. The girl looked at him/it with amazement, as if you/he/she was not waited for that courtesy. «I regret» it continued the young one «I didn't want to frighten you. But do tell me, thing I have to do with you? If I quietly go out now you you start to scream and I cannot do what few footsteps.» Did The girl look at him/it for an instant; indeed you/he/she was waited for a suggestion by her? Then inclusive that the alternative was to also take him it a blow in head and it went to all hurry in bedroom. To the he/she let her/it do. You returned with old torn sheets, it tore a long strip of it and it handed her/it to Á. the. The youth approved with a sign. «Good idea» it said. The girl sat on a chair and Á. the you/he/she tied the wrists behind her back, without tightening too much. «Well so?» The youth nodded. To the takings another strip of fabric and it gagged her/it, having care that could not howl but succeeding in guaranteeing her least uneasiness however. «Well so?» it repeated Á. the. The girl nodded again. To the resumptions the arc, made her a sign of regard, then he/she limped toward the door. It looked through the near windows, it seemed that in the threshing floor there was no anybody. It opened the door. Place was correct in front of him. 19. Place had the fist lifted for knocking and employed more time of him to grab the situation. To the it grinded of disappointment; it had to be a kind of local nurse the wife of Bin. In hand Place brought the change of the bandagings that the girl evidently owed to apply him. The man leaned the armpits on two big wood crutches, handicraft but efficient. You/he/she had cleverly come there since, with the encumbrance in hand, succeeding in avoiding holes and mud ticking the point of the crutches on the insidious ground; who had built her you/he/she had thought well about affixing a kind of ample cone of pressure to the extremity, so that with the ground I release Place it didn't sink however. Place had gone over: he/she succeeded in avoiding to support entirely the feet working with the alone strength of the braccias. As you/he/she had been able to do him/it with the bundle in hand, Á. the ignored him/it, but this interested him/it less that little. Place witnessed him, you/he/she could observe the slow one rise of its bewilderment from the funny expression of the face. Place opened wide the eyes, Á. the made to jump the arc from the right hand to the left; the look of Place followed the trajectory of the arc. While it was grabbing the weapon of left-handed, sferrò the fist with the right. The hit was not granché, but he/she sent Place in the mixed mud to sawdust in front of the entry hurriedly. To the he/she didn't succeed in thinking to anything else other than to escape. Taken to race, plain and among thousand complaints, toward the back of the installation, hoping that the wounds of Place prevented him from launching him to the pursuit. You was wrong. Place got up making use of the clothes hanger and observing with contempt the young one that ran away; it started to maneuver its utensils to hold him behind, but the crutches were awkward and inefficient. A grim smile he painted him on the face; the man threw that useless lumber and was held alone straight. The foot, in the shoe, started over bleeding; the wounded thigh made to feel its remonstrations. Everything ached, but it didn't matter; Place forgot the clothes hanger and began to race, also him limping for the pain, that was decidedly more intense than that than Á. the. The man however it scorned him/it and for how much the foot especially had to ache him, it was evident that it didn't intend to let the boy be escaped. To the it tried to accelerate for sowing Place. After some instant he turned; Place there was not anymore. Had you/he/she succeeded? Then he/she saw that the man had chosen to lose terrestrial for a good reason: in a house was stopped for catching a rifle and you/he/she now took back the run. «Porca poverty!» Á. the exclaimed. It accelerated, going up again the hill behind the houses of the Gomezes. The other brothers didn't have to be distant but following that direction Á. the, with reason, he/she thought about getting further him of it. To the saliva to great footsteps, helping himself/herself/itself in the steep lines with the hands and the branches of the near bushes. You still turned. Place followed him/it, even if on that slant it had to suffer quite a lot. Of iron was made, that man. To the scollinò and it began to come down the opposite slope racing. The buttock seemed in flames. It slipped and it fell, tumbling for some meters, then he allowed to roll in way checked up to the feet of the knoll, thing a great deal more rapids and painless to race, since the vegetation was everywhere sharp pain and creeping. The head of Place appeared on the top of the hill, then the body. Distance hips it was evident that its wounds had opened: two ample gores of blood dyed its pantalonis, the shoes if the era removed and you/he/she had thrown who knows her where, and now he/she left a strip of blood to every footstep. The bone of the foot, pierced by the arrow of Á. the, you/he/she was certainly broken. Yet that leaned you the weight of the body without hesitating. It now started to undertake himself/herself/themselves in the descent. It raced as a crazy person and inevitably lost the balance and it fell; it kept on racing however, anchor falling and reverting, on plants and rocks, scratching himself/herself/itself and covering himself/herself/itself with bruising, also not to lose terrestrial. To the resumptions to race; it made a breadth turn, trying to alternate slopes and descents to put Gomez in difficulty. It started not to make her/it more, however. It had to stop him/it until he/she still succeeded in breathing. Few footsteps and it was found in a dense grove of firs. You stopped panting to their shade, it extracted the arc and it notched an arrow. Attended with calm behind the trunk of a big leafy tree until it didn't feel the messy scalpiccìo of Place that puffed as a tired horse but it didn't mention to slow down. The long strip of blood was wider, now, but Place was indifferent. Nothing would have prevented him from catching his/her enemy. To the he/she saw the man that went beyond him/it of run, it reached the limit of the grove and it looked over; the ground was hairless, if Á. the had passed of there you/he/she would certainly have been in sight. Without staying himself/herself/themselves, Place made a hold curve and returned back good tightening the strongest rifle. «Fermo!» it shouted Á. the, showing himself/herself/itself. It aimed the arrow against the body of the pursuer for his/her position of advantage to make clearer. To Place it didn't interest, it only for taking the aim with the rifle. «Fermo!» it repeated Á. the. Place stretched the reed of the rifle toward of him. It was a big weapon, loaded to shots. If you/he/she had been stricken nearby from, Á. the would be reduced to heap of dead meat. «Fermo!» it confirmed Á. the, taken by the desperation. He/she didn't want to fear his/her arc that guy. I rent takings the aim and Á. the it struck. To that distance, no more than ten meters, it was not him difficult to exactly insert an arrow where you/he/she had already done him: the wounded foot was pierced again, arousing a look of inhuman hostility in the eyes of Place, that it didn't send forth complaint. To the it was piercing the other foot so frightened of it that notched and it threw again. Two draughts to the maximum extension of the arm. Place had been nailed to earth. The man, immovable, it looked him at the feet with an untranslatable expression, then it made strength on the right one and it tore the other from the ground; the arrow stuck out from the heel with a sod of damp earth still plunged. Then it broke the arrow under the point and with a dreadful boldness it slowly extracted the crossbar of it, making the back of the foot dripping blood to cross her. To the it looked at open mouth. I rent it didn't show pain, only an uncontrollable fury; layings to earth the free foot, forced and lifted the right one, equally pierced. It repeated the operation and it extracted the second crossbar throwing her/it distant. It looked at Á. the in the eyes to long moment, almost triumphant, as you/he/she could perceive the shiver of horror that had crossed the back of À. the in front of that scenes. Then it started to almost race verse of him without limping. It was unbelievable. To the it withdrew and it tried to notch another arrow, but it was late. Place was him I set. As had already happened, the new wounds had made him forget the evolved function of the rifle, now it grasped him/it for the reed to mo' of cudgel. It drew an ample arc in the air, then it beat him/it against the leg of Á. which it fell to the ground, folded up in two by the pain. Place still rotated the weapon and drew near to Á. the, that tried laughed to again himself/herself/themselves leaning himself/herself/itself to the trunk of to tree. Gomez repeated the same trajectory; Á. the got up completely, leaving that the other one planned as before exactly the hit, then with good sense of timing he allowed to fall to the ground making back to leap to the. Place continued in the movement and bumped the base of the tree with the kick of the rifle. A strong explosion followed the impact. To the it was of it almost deafened. When it looked again aloft at Place you/he/she had disappeared. To the it got up standing. Place was spread out to a little more earth in there. The hit of accidental rifle had disintegrated the face of that man, what time it lay stretched out in decomposed position, undoubtedly dead. 20. «Oddio» it murmured Á. the. There was blood anywhere and parts of the face, redheads and moist, they lay shed everywhere there around. To the you/he/she had already seen other dead bodies, but that was particularly horrible. He/she was stunned for a few minutes, trying not to look at the poveretto. Then prevailed the instinct of survival: of there to few his/her brothers Gomez would have arrived, attracted by the hit of rifle. With some fortune you/he/she could have fifteen minutes of advantage. The problem was that it didn't feel him in degree to walk, to the moment. The blow that I Rent had arranged him it made an evil of the devil and it didn't allow him to use to duty the left leg: it was in trap. To return back to mean to slip himself/herself/themselves in mouth to the Gomezes, to go on brought him/it in an open space that would have been able to overcome only if you/he/she had been able to race well. There was a great and rent wood, there before, but for as the things they went it was unattainable. He/she remained to reflect some instant, arrancando without purpose among the firs, looking around himself/herself/itself looking for way out and trying to furiously reason. Lori. Now it inserted also him in his/her thoughts. But to focus himself/herself/themselves on her could not be him profit, to the moment. Or perhaps yes? Then it had the idea, and you owe him/it really to Lori; the first years that were together traveled a lot, pursuing the love that she fed for the animals and that it cultivated in all the places of the world it was found. He had made her know a system to draw near to the nests of the great birds. Lori, although it had the knowledges of base of it from the course of mountaineering that had made them meet, you/he/she had never used that technique, so much less to that purpose. A technique that asked for the use of the arc. It was distant once, he was a simple journalist looking for itself same, that tried the paper of the naturalism in that period before the politics contaminated him/it. It was enough that he/she remembered as it was. The backpack that had on the shoulders contained some that memoirs. If it removed him/it from the shoulders, with notable difficulty for the hit immediately a little before. It rummaged in the backpack; there was a lot of cordage and, luckily, the system of pulleys, rather handicraft, that had used for a long time. It wandered about under the grove with assembled air, then it found the proper place. Taken an arrow and it tied you a long and slender cordino, it contemplated and it struck. The throwing was fortunate it climbed over the branch that you/he/she had taken of aim and the arrow it reverted to earth on the other side without finding obstacles. Raced to take back her/it, it loosened the knot and it tied a steel hook to the cordino from the part of the hook. To the ring of the hook it fixed a bigger rope and, little bottom the same hook, the hoist. It consisted in four pulleys, two fixed to the rope and two that you/he/she would have hooked to the harness in life. From the couple of pulleys in summit and from that that would have held back to the body four ropes they were stretched: with that system it was able to throw him on, dividing for four the necessary strength to lift the really weight. They were always about twenty kilos, however: to have the possibility to rest a moschettone of arrest was had, also that would have used for stopping the slide of the rope used for throwing him on, so much to grant him the time to relax the muscles of the braccias without reverting. It hoisted the hook and with it the rope throwing the cordino, until this it didn't reach the select branch. The hook banged against the wood and Á. the it tore to few to make to climb over him the stem thick rich in sprigs and leaves aghiformi. The hook passed over. To the it grabbed the rope and it threw: the hook of the hook, returning back, it inserted him in the branch. Now it was a reliable grip. The leg hurt him, it labored to be standing. It explored the content of the backpack until it didn't find the harness. It was about to put her/it to him when a noise of hell the surprises: it came from the installation of the Gomezes. To the you/he/she could not know what it happened, but inclusive that his/her brothers in hunting had arrived down there, attracted by the hit of rifle. You/they had asked to all the relatives of I shoot him/it and at the end you/they had found Isabelita, not yet in degree to stir but conscious. In effects the woman was taken back and, pursued by the questions of the men, you/he/she had gone to all the furies. You/he/she had picked up the baton that Á. the had left her on the floor and you/he/she had run after husband and brothers brandishing him/it with ability, also wandering without to lot of sense of the equilibrium. The scene he was unraveling in the squares. «Incapable!» it howled, racing better always, with an enormous bulgy bruise on the forehead «while you were being looking for butterflies, that fool has done that that you/he/she is seemed him with the family!» «But treasure.» it implored Bo, running away «my love!» Isabelita arranged a hit to his legs making to fly him/it in the mud. The other ones grinned, but Isabelita had not ended: it pursued all sowing the panic. Bin plunged him in his/her house from an open window hoping not to be noticed, while Mac protected a hit of baton with the rifle, but he/she didn't succeed in avoiding the second in direction testicolare. The man knelt repeatedly folding up himself/herself/itself to Moslem way. To the it understood to have more time of that that he/she thought. It contemplated the dead body and his/her own suits, dirty, wet and battered. In the knapsack it always brought a complete change. Definite there for there, without thinking too much of us. You stripped and it changed him in hurry, then it stripped, not without difficulty, also the poor man Place. It put him his/her old suits, included shoes. The takings the rifle and it inserted the weapon with the dirty suits of blood in the trunk of a dry tree and full of ravines. To be more believable had the temptation to leave him arc and quiver; to be correct, thought that you/he/she would have had to leave also him the backpack, but if it didn't feel her/it to free himself/herself/themselves some only things that could help to remain him/it in life. He/she left the body there, seeds sinking him/it in a pozzangherone to justify the lack of blood on the suits. It seemed him to see itself same; the face so defaced it was unrecognizable, you/he/she could be indeed whoever. You/he/she had wasted precious time, the uproar of the Gomezes was damped. He/she wore the harness, the hoist hooked you and started to throw. It was tired. It cost him quite a lot work to throw him on a pair of meters: the first leafy branches of the trees grazed his head. It inhaled with calm fixing the rope of draught to the moschettone of arrest. Its body softly swung. He/she remained in listening some instant, then resumptions to climb. The hoist worked well, without a cigolìo. The first branch brushed its suit pricking him the face; Á. the removed him/it pushing him/it with the head that I know much that allowed him continuous to with the ascent. You heard far not a noise of footsteps. To the it held back the breath: his/her brothers Gomez was arriving. It a few, but it was not risked to stay himself/herself/themselves: whoever had looked at the insù you/he/she would have seen him. When Á. the had reached the seven high meters the Gomezes they came under of him. It was still visible, between the ground and he alone a pair of great leafy branches. But his/her brothers had acknowledged the dead body, it didn't come them to mind to look very around at himself/herself/themselves. They made capannello around the body, trying to understand of who pits. «Dead» it said Bin. Bo looked at him/it. «What idiocy» it said acid. Had not the treatment suffered by his/her/their wife benefited to its humor «for strength, don't you see that the whole face misses him?» «Who is?» he/she asked another brother. To the, that could comfortably follow the scene, it was certain not to have ever seen before him/it. You/he/she had participated in his/her pursuit, obviously, but Á. the had not had occasion to look nearby it from. It was the fifth brother what it missed for completing his/her knowledge of the masculine stock of the Gomezes. There were Bo, Bin, Mac, Place (by now dead) and this last guy. It forms to keg, full of muscles, aggressive look. A Gomez, in short. Of sure it didn't attend the church or you/he/she would be remembered. «What devil I know?» it said Mac. «It seems that man, Á. the» it observed Bin. The young one, feeling his/her name, cedette to the temptation to still get further and slowly it acted on the rope of draught. Docilely the hoist brought him/it on, while with the legs Á. the removed the leafy branches, dark dark and sharp pains, that he/she met climbing. Without noise he/she succeeded in going himself/herself/themselves to about ten meters high: now its body was invisible, covered as it was from the wealth of green branches. Only a careful observer, lifting the head, you/he/she would have been able to perceive him/it. The harness was enough comforting. To the it fixed the rope to the moschettone and he relaxed. The cordino, by now useless, it hung from a big leafy branch and lost grip. It slowly slipped up to earth, silently twisting himself/herself/itself against the ground in ample rings as a snake, to around fifteen meters distance from his/her/their brothers. Nobody hastened. The wind against the trees produced analogous sounds, the men didn't look in that direction. But it was only matter of time. To the it grabbed the cordino and it started to withdraw him/it on, winding him/it to him on the shoulder with ability. You/he/she could start over breathing only when its head left the ground and you/he/she had overcome some meter high. «You are right» it said Mac after having thought of us on «they are his/her suits.» «You/they have killed him. But who?» it said Bin. «Us no, and not even the women» it said Bo «the only one that I don't see from some is Place.» «Place» it said Mac «yes. With him it had him of certain.» «What we do of it?» he/she asked Bin. «Be', let's bury him/it» it suggested Mac. The other brother, that that Á. the didn't know, it started laughing. «What you say?» did it join in conversation «you feel like laboring? Now the terrestrial one is so soaked that seems glue.» «It doesn't suit me to have a dead body next to house» it said Mac. «Let's leave here it» it suggested Bin «we will occupy another day of it. By now the thing you/he/she is ended.» «Another day and it will stink to remove the breath» it said Bo «let's resolve now her.» «I have an idea that saves us the work» it said Bin smiling «let's bring him/it in country and let's leave him/it for road. You know that I/you/he/she do they will do that soft.» All snickered. «It would play as an example» it observed Bo «I like it. But there am no auto funzionanti. This guy has inserted everywhere arrows.» «It is not a problem» it said Mac «we take all the rubbers of escort and with those it will make him a new car.» «Good idea» it said Bo «once in country we can take us the autos that we want. The moment has arrived to do seriously, with that people.» His/her brothers agreed all; Á. the didn't have difficulty to feel the conversation. After all, this thing to make himself/herself/themselves pass for dead it didn't seem you/he/she had given many positive effects. That men would have raged in country, really that that Á. the was established to avoid. «Mac» it said Bo «find I Rent me. It needs to transport this body to the houses.» «It is not easy at all» it said Bin «you know as it is Place. Who knows where you/he/she is ended.» «Of accord. We systematize a car and we bring here her. You prepare a stretcher.» «Give us breath, Bo» it said the fifth brother «the guy is systematized, Isabelita will be happy. We go first to eat, then we do as you say you. The body doesn't escape. We find again down here there after lunch.» Bo puffed as a hood, but it recognized that his/her brother was not wrong entirely. «It is all right. To house.» The four was slowly started, rifles in shoulder. To the it followed them with the look until they didn't disappear behind the roundness of the hill. The youth breathed a sigh of relief; you/he/she could relax. The leg ached him and the position in which was found to the long one got a general soreness. You massaged the thighs and him it lifted anchor, finding a branch which to rest himself/herself/themselves. But he/she jumped back immediately: the buttock hurt him, you/he/she could not put on sat, if not in such an uncomfortable position to be made to feel everywhere him sharp pains. It had to go down. Attended quite a lot minutes, then been decided. With calm it gave rope leaving that the hoist did the big one some job. When the feet touched earth it threw a breath of relief. It was exhausted. You removed the backpack and been cleansed the numerous droplets of sweat that his forehead. It inhaled deeply, then takings a sandwich to the ham. It was not hungry, but it had to sustain himself/herself/themselves in strengths. He/she anchors he/she didn't know what to do, but you/he/she would have thought about something; you/he/she could not leave that the Gomezes scorrazzassero freely for the country. It started to eat, taken a bottiglietta of water and it dried up her/it, then it tried to walk for loosening that knot of pain to the left leg, but without a lot of success. Not could sit it put on in knee and it silently finished his/her meal. The thoughts whirled. In past without the medicines it often had the tendency to day-dream to think continuosly about in obsessive way. It now did the same. «I have killed a man, Lori» it whispered bitterly. It was not true entirely, and he/she knew him/it. But it felt him guilty however. The pressure of the events was becoming unbearable; he/she saw him/it from the hands, that didn't want to decide him to be him of it firm. To be in knee oddly seemed him comfortable; its body also relaxed him in the pain and a compassionate ottundimento it pushed him/it to close the eyes. The mind it whirled. Anchor and anchor, in an incessant torture. To the it was sheltered among his/her preferred memoirs. 21. Lori had an air it toasts and few female, in that short estate that showed the tonic muscolettis of braccia and legs. You/he/she was cleverly enough climbing the wall of rock, certain better than you/he/she would have done him. It was evident that that was not his/her first course. It cleverly maneuvered the harpoons, forcing well the feet to contrast before risking to throw him on; it allowed to slip the ropes on his/her body, climbing, without ever losing its contact for every eventuality. There was the safety rope, certain. Even if that was fallen you/he/she would have stopped her before touching the ground. But you/he/she would have been a small shame. The hands were whitish of chalk; the sweat slipped on the shiny braccias, but Lori intercepted before it reached the wrists with automatic gestures, almost unaware. The fingers looked for the following cretto with attention, whereas she had just peered at stretching out himself/herself/itself to arc on the sour costone of rock; they immediately found that that they looked for, they insinuated him and they made taking. Lori he threw on anchor. The teacher observed her/it with attention sometimes distributing superfluous suggestions; the girl was smart, and she was seen. Close to the teacher there was a group of spectators, all climbers of half nick, among which Á. the. They were in prevalence men. There was who studied the movements of Lori appreciating the technical gesture of it, but not only; the girl had curves to the correct place and the eyes of many of the present men they were revealing. Among them, without words, that sort of atmosphere was created solidale and sorniona that it comes from the frustration of the enfeebled voyeur; Lori was always stainless, it pierced the present maschiettis with indifferent look ogniqualvolta there it passed nearby them. It always treated all with icy courtesy and nient'altro. To the you/he/she had never been devoted to that particular masculine attitude. There was something fearful, for him, in to observe with useless and passive malice; something clammy and some sordid, a soft arc of deficiencies that you/they darted from the void hedonism to the minced impotence. A man or he/she wants a thing, or he/she doesn't want her/it. Useless to lose himself/herself/themselves in ridiculous onanismi. To the it lowered the look to his/her companions; there was who smiled as soon as or sgomitava the best man winking aloft. To the it stopped observing Lori and it studied that poor futile mandrilli. Him that then he felt rampant journalist, of intelligence and tonnage well greater of the bystanders. It was the period in which its name began to be known in certain environments. You felt to the great one for this. Its ego, however, had not become monumental yet; the political appointment was alone to the beginning, the articles that he/she wrote they were in prevalence for-environmentalists. Some ugly experience had lived, also side beside with the idealists sfegatati of Green Peace. Lori was to a difficult passage, now. The rocks, leaning and spigoloses, forced the woman to extend part of the body toward the void. It needed to revolve a big protuberance as a compact car, to lean on a natural and perfect spur, then to climb anchors him. Lori faced the work with calm; he/she embraced as it was able the calcareous relief using hands and feet to look for points of taking. Leg and braccia were wide open, the muscles contracted by the tension to maintain entirely not the posture natural; the gluteis stuck out back to the, tense, to maintain the basin away from the scabrous surfaces. The work of the woman he could simply perceive almost looking at her/it. «Jesus» it commented someone close to him. To the it turned him to look him/it at an instant, then it returned to observe the girl. It was to the height of I strive him/it; you/he/she had found grips, but not in ideal positions. It had to stretch too much him, braccia and legs took to wave from the tension. The basin oscillated, and someone thought well about commenting that movement with little grace. They snickered some all: the usual sexual allusion. To the it followed the pirouettes of Lori with curiosity. It was a critical moment, he/she wanted to see if the girl if it got by or no. In him it prevailed the technical interest; you/he/she would have had to also complete her/it Á. the, that scaling. They snowed beaten by every part. The group had departed colorless, the morning, but now to that show he was heating. To the smiled a couple of times, then heavy comments spoiled too much the moment of hilarity; you/he/she could be its girl, Lori or the girl of somebody else. Every thing has its limits. Also the teacher now looked at the students with evident disapproval. To the, that was delighted then of a certain Puritanism - it served to the great one, writing of politics - sbottò almost without realizing of it. «Be', boys!» it said, overhanging the chiacchiericcio. Lori fell of under. They were all taken of surprise. An instant first the woman twisted him, in procinto to double that damned prominence; the instant found again down later him to head to the, falling toward the companions without control. Lori acutely shouted but without strength, delicate; it almost had to do him/it for laying, not for fear. To few meters from the group the rope him extended and Lori caprioleggiò, finding again then himself/herself/itself to slowly oscillate in eccentric position to few meters from the ground. The teacher drew near to the girl. «Ugly fall. All to place?» Lori consented to work, incapable to speak, and not for funk or pain. It was raging. It began to stir with extreme slowness to free himself/herself/themselves from the ropes, it lowered him with the alone strength of the braccias and him it allowed to go to the last line, therefore it fell to the ground cleverly springing on the ankles. The lips were so much holds to appear whitish. Lori directed him toward the group, planting from now on then himself/herself/itself to Á. the; the young one vaguely stared at her/it interrogative with air. Lori crossed so plain the braccias that it seemed it was absorbed in the molasses. «You» it said to Á. the. Air of storm. The group indiscriminately withdrew of a footstep, or at least so it seemed to Á. the, that felt him of sudden very halo. «I know qual it is your problem» it said Lori. The scene developed him slow. Almost unreal. Lori he took his/her times, and they was damnedly long. The girl lifted the right arm, opened the hand, brims index and thumb maintaining them near among them, as to point out a small distance. The index drew an arc on the thumb, the fingertips they almost touched him. They passed some second so, then someone there behind laughed at a burst liberatorio. To the it became quite a lot red, not for the poisonousness of the gesture, but for his/her injustice; he was the only one that had not made indecent appreciations but Lori, disturbed by the scurrilous language somehow recepito from his/her sixth female sense, you/he/she had heard only well the voice of Á. the. The young one didn't know what to say, seemed him everything inadequate. It understood that Lori buckled him the guilt for his/her fall, and very more. You/he/she had bewared him/it with an expression of such a cold and impersonal contempt of to make to desire him to be elsewhere, also on the edge of that precipice without safety rope. «Mother» it murmured Á. the, suffered sudden fetal introversion. Lori turned on the heels and united him to the rest of the group. «It seems that you are your turn, grand'uomo» it said acid the teacher. The run pointed out him in which the woman had failed. "Oh, no, also him" he/she thought Á. the. It tried us, naturally. But the feeling of that hostile eyes against the back was so annoying and frustrating that didn't succeed to find the necessary concentration. It fell to the first obstacle of a certain difficulty. Since then, that small adventure had been being characterized for long days, for Á. the. It became known as the litterbug of the course. The mornings Lori always greeted him/it with vivacity, calling him/it with various epithets; then it ended up settling himself/herself/themselves on a few conventional sventramosche. During the day Lori distributed other sweetness, to his/her way impietosa. To the it didn't react. It didn't laugh, but he didn't even vex, even though surrounded by giggles or coldness. It was an adult, he/she knew whether to behave him. Among the two who heard again more it was Lori; not only Á. the didn't suffer, but she was losing other people's solidarity. That damned maniac. he was making even burdens friends. To the he was putting of appointment, he/she worked very hard, it didn't miss to help the companions. It was of an unsuspected seriousness. How climber was overcoming her/it. A morning that Lori you owe assentarsi for job, to Á. the was submitted the guides of the group. It missed the teacher and it seemed natural that the young one took the place of it. Nea, the worse student in absolute, you/he/she was climbing along an easy slant, clutched to the safety rope. «Relaxed. Don't waste energies to hold you to the rope. It doesn't serve» it suggested Á. the, almost shouting for making himself/herself/themselves feel. Nea tried to obey, but it was everything anything else other than to really ease; physically it was in form, but the fear of the void was stronger than her. It participated in that course really to win her/it, but to the moment he/she didn't succeed in sprouting her/it. The woman tangled him with the ropes and him you/he/she found again lockout as in a ball; moreover you/he/she had to face entirely not a passage banal. It tried, but it jammed on the point sharp of a spur of scabrous stone and faceted. He/she remained so for different seconds, until it was clear to everybody that it was found in the troubles. «Nea?» it made Á. the from there under. Anybody answer. «Nea» taken back Á. the «you macaws calm. If you have problems, enough that I/you/he/she allow yourself to go. The safety rope will make the rest.» To throw down him? For Nea that suggestion was absurd. To the it understood later immediately it and it him the lips. «Of accord. I come there.» To the it was grabbed to a free rope that lazily dangled, it climbed for some meters and then if it hooked her/it to the life; it nimbly continued the ascent until you/he/she had not reached Nea. The girl started to his/her touch, but she was immovable and rigid as a stoccafisso. To the he/she kindly spoke to her while it was freeing her/it from the cordage that it involved her/it. Here it was free. But he/she refused to stir. «Enough that I/you/he/she allow yourself to slip up to earth. Hold yourself to the safety rope, if you want.» Shook Nea the head. It had the closed eyes. «Uhm.» mugugnò À. the «it is all right. I think about all self. You have only to turn I pour you of me, now.» It didn't even do this, the girl; time stayed to the rock. To the it was not prepared to this, it was not enough smart yet. You/he/she could not simply pick her/it up in arm: Nea was thin, but they was about fifty kilos that you/they were added to the his/her eighty however. An arm served him to work on the moschettone to let him slip up to earth; you/he/she could hold alone Nea with the other arm. Fifty kilos: impossible. Then it had an idea: despite you/he/she had just freed her, taken back to ravvoltolare Nea to his/her cordage. It did a beautiful and good salamino of it, then three moschettoni applied her, so much to overdo. Taken another free rope; in reality it had a jammed head on top of the small mountain, invisible, there aloft. It rolled up him until the second head it didn't jump him in hand, it inserted him/it in the three moschettonis of the woman, then it tied him/it to a pair of moschettonis of his/her own harness. It now needed that Nea collaborated: it owed lasciar to go the rocky concretion. «He/she leaves the taking Nea. You are tied up to me, now. You cannot fall» it said Á. the. The girl didn't want to know of it. To the him stretched out verse of her, clutched her/it and tore her hands from the rock. Nea fell for no more than a meter, rigid as a pietrone, then Á. the felt to tear to the abdomen and the woman he stopped. Now the weight of Nea was for half on the point of anchorage of the new rope and for half on the harness of the young one. Twenty-five kilos and both the free hands: Á. the could make well her, it was as if you/he/she was suddenly fattened up. But he/she underestimated the ostracism of Nea. When it began the descent she tried everything to hinder him/it: it grabbed on to anything it found with any part of his/her own body; the fingernails the broke him and the fingers bled, but the girl had found again vigor just in time to increase the work of the young one. To the it, now. It tried to estrange the woman from the rocks, but she howled as an irritated cat. It abdicated us and it kept on going down with great caution. He/she talked to the girl however. It was a history of few minutes, even if to him they seemed very more. When they reached earth, both sweaty ones and contracted by stress and tiredness, Nea was grabbed by the companions and Á. the he/she sat against to rock gasping. You adjusted the soaked hair. Then two feet attracted from now on there its attention. It lifted the look and he/she saw Lori in front of itself. You/he/she had just returned from the job and it stared at him/it with irony. You have to tell him something of sferzante but Á. the was I know busy to breathe that it didn't understand anything. The rest of the group drew near to the two. You did before Nea, still pale and trembling, but with an I seize definite. The girl put on in front of Lori. «You see to plant her/it, nice. It is not more amusing from a piece» it murmured Nea looking at Lori with strength. Lori reciprocated the look of it, expressionless. The companions, included Neas, got further chatting for their facts. «It is true. It is not amusing» it admitted Lori thoughtfully fixing the young one. To the it got up standing. «I could not be more than accord» it told her. «The truth. it is that you macaws to damned problem» it said the girl «you don't behave you as it would wait us from to clammy worm.» To the it jolted. «You are rather hard. Above all for that little that creeds to have felt.» «I believe? You will now tell me that I have too imagination.» «No of certain. Who knows that reaction you would have.» Lori smiled on the bitterness. «Of accord. I am hard. But with my work. in the hospital. The don'ts know anymore how many women The have had to assist for the violences. even children.» «It is certain allusions you don't like they. I understand him/it.» Was it sincere solidarity, that of the young one? Lori sat on the stone where first Á. the was. He imitated her/it. «Truth is that I wanted to pick me up her with you» it admitted the woman «it was a cinch to the beginning. Then you have become mister perfection.» This time Á. the laughed. «Not to change too soon mind on me. Don't know me» it suggested Á. the «after all you could have been right.» Lori he threw back slightly, surprised. «Thing is, do you have a good time being offended to gogò?» «Something of the kind. You there are busy quite a lot. You have been creative. Sventramosche, eh?» Lori blushed. «Not to say him/it. To feel him/it from somebody else seems so vulgar.» «It is him/it.» «Already. What do we do, now?» To the it tightened him in the shoulders. Lori didn't allow him to be evasive. «You have to tell me him. If you have been of wide mouth you could ask it excuses me. If you have not been him/it, tell me him and I will apologize me me.» «Because? You are good to jump alone to the conclusions.» Lori puffed. «You hold me on the rope, it is well. I perhaps deserve him/it, perhaps no.» «They are not the gossipers the guys from which to look at himself/herself/themselves Lori. Theirs is simple folklore. Foolish, perhaps. Immature» it said Á. the, smiling «they macaws the banking ones in jacket and tie, those dangerous. The calm ones, with the hair always to place, the reliable ones. The fathers of family.» «You are telling me that, in how much gossiper, you are not dangerous?» «Or what dangerous am in how much taciturn. no, The jokeds. I was speaking only.» Lori toyed with that pos' of loose ground that he found again under the feet. If it passed him/it from a hand to the other, then it smelled the scents of it, therefore it put again him/it to his/her place making to flow its grains among the fingers. «You have not said badly anything of, you» concluded Lori. «No, but it is not so important. And however I would have been able. It is not to assist effortless to one scaling of yours without feeling himself/herself/themselves shaken.» Now Lori rippled the forehead, uncertain on the to make himself/herself/themselves. Did he/she speak seriously, Á. the or gigioneggiava for love of comedy? «Uhm, as do I have to pick her/it up, this?» «I would say well. Relaxed, it is a compliment without immodesty. It would be foolish not to admit to admire what it is beautiful.» «You. you macaws always I know frank?» «Really no. But this time you/he/she has come me so.» Lori smiled wary. «Hooks the risk. I have just remitted you a heavy wisecrack, and here is another appreciation.» «Of all other tone.» «Yes» it admitted Lori. «Be'. peace, then?» «Peace, certain.» They shook the hand with conviction. There was no time to say other, the teacher had returned to the base to take back the normal course of the lessons. All assembled him around him and someone came to call Á. the and Lori for the plans of the day. It was since then that Á. the and Lori took to climb together. Later not very, also to live together. 22. The lunch was a tradition of family that all the Gomezes religiously respected. Us took two hours because a by now nervous Á. the saw Mac Gomez and the smaller brother go out himself/herself/themselves burdens installation, beautiful calm and paciosi, and obviously without weapons. They came to take his/her dead body; that is, what you/they believed pits him; Á. the, for the time being to the shelter in the obscurity of the grove, attended that the two brothers started to climb on the hill, therefore he/she worked of braccia and him it threw again on, the arc assuring himself/herself/itself to the shoulders. You felt indeed tired, now, with the empty head. The tension of the last hours was acting on him adding himself/herself/itself to the symptoms of the illness. You/he/she had lost lucidity, it was not certain entirely of that that you/he/she was doing. The trembling to the hands, that you/he/she was appeased for some, had returned stronger than before. It tightened the rope with more energy. The quiver bothered him, but you/he/she would have been up there suspended for not a lot of time. Mac was before, the other one followed dragging the net of an old iron bed. How stretcher could go. To the it brought him to eight meters high; the Gomezes passed under of him and they directed him toward the dead body. They loaded Place on the stretcher, touching him/it the less possible not to get dirty himself/herself/themselves. To the it slowly loosened the rope and descents behind the two men touching earth without noise. It unhooked the harness, allowing to fall her/it to his/her piacer, and it grabbed the arc. The rustle of the wood against the backpack attracted the attention of Mac; when the man turned him he saw the point of arrow you/he/she turns verse of him and behind this the suffering face rather of Á. the. Mac opened wide the eyes without aprir mouth. «I don't want that I/you/he/she hurt him anybody» it said Á. the, with calm voice. The other brother started and he also turned him. Both stared at him/it stunned. To the he/she didn't know whether to do. It was an excellent situation, but really the fact that the other ones were without weapons created him some serious problems of approach. He/she knew that you/he/she would have had to throw, you/they would have done them him; but in front of him a victim was, already and you/he/she was for his/her guilt there. Mac immediately took back him. «If you are alive, this here who is?» it said. To the he/she didn't answer. Mac examined the dead body with new eyes; it seemed some that Á. the didn't represent to big threat, above all with that ugly wax that found again him, knows it turned his back and it assembled him on the corpse. The head of Place was dirty and mutilated, but the body was everything whole. Mac started to rummage in all the pockets that it found looking for signs, then, when it looked through in those some pantalonis, it threw out a bloodstained hand: the wound to the leg had drenched the inside part of the pocket. Suffered a suspicion the man it removed a shoe from the dead body: the back of the foot was covered with curdled blood, twisted and deformed, so much had been devastated from the arrows of Á. the. «Ah!» Mac exclaimed, in an instant of surprised understanding: close to him the lessened body of his/her/their brother was. The more youth opened the shirt of Place revealing the breast of the corpse: a desire of strawberry was there, small and detector. The two Gomezes looked at Á. the with hard expression. «You!» it said Mac. «An accident» it said Á. the, that his despite it felt him in guilt «it is not necessary to add other corpses.» The two got up standing allowing to lose the stretcher. To the it pointed out for earth. «The rope» it told Mac with out voice «pick her/it up. It ties the wrists of your brother.» Anybody stirred. To the it started to sweat cold. Mac noticed the interesting zoppìa of the young one; it seemed that it didn't lean entirely the left foot to earth. It also noticed his/her general conditions; it behaved as it was seriously wounded, it shook and it had the erratic look as that of a bird. To the it noticed those glances and it tightened the teeth. «Move you» it pursued, stepping backwards for making the rope take him. Mac if a moment studied him/it. Then smiled. «I bet that you are right» it said «you/he/she has been an accident. You are not able of to kill. Isabelita frames very well always the people.» It now grinned. The smaller brother imitated him. «You take the rope» it said Á. the, flatly. «Otherwise?» it said Mac. As if you/they had put on of accord, the two brothers got further turning around to Á. the; the youth stepped backwards: it was in difficulty, now, with the arc you/he/she could hold only under draught one of them. If he/she wanted to act, it had immediately to do him/it. The youngest Gomez acted for him. Put him behind it cast him to his/her shoulders but Á. the was I know in difficulty that it didn't even hasten. Mac made a footstep before and opened the braccias to distract him/it, but it was an error. To the it brusquely stepped backwards and it withdrew the elbow to extend the arc sinking him/it in the stomach of the smaller brother, that expelled the breath in a hit. The unexpected bump frightened Á. the, that he allowed to escape the arrow. With a hiss the dart was plunged in the paunch of Mac, that was seen to dangle the feathered crossbar from the hole in the vest. For an instant the man thought about being sold, but at the same fortunate time, because also in the agony you/he/she didn't suffer. While the two Gomezes were busy one to breathe, the other to learn himself/herself/themselves the wound, Á. the allowed to fall the arc, it slunk away and raced away, unarmed and without strengths. His/her brothers put us some second, they took back well then him. The wound of Mac was a trifle; the point in the meat was penetrated for some millimeter, when the arrow had been struck the rope you/he/she had not been tense to sufficiency. To the you/he/she had earned some meter; the two started racing him behind. To the era there there to be taken when it mended him behind a tree cable. The other ones sneered. «Who knows where you/he/she is hidden, I have him really lost of sight» it said Mac. The other one imitated his/her tone ridanciano. «I believe that I will rest me behind that trunk. You/he/she has escaped there by now.» And it threw out a jackknife, something more of a penknife. It turned around the tree and us some he/she remained badly when the reeds of the rifle of Place opened him the nostrils. The Gomezes withdrew of some footstep, surprised. To the it grasped the big rifle with uncertain hands. Mac immediately was gotten back. «You won't use him/it. You don't want to kill anybody.» «To kill?» it said Á. the «perhaps if we were near, as has happened to Place. But if I now shot you, we tell a leg, it would be a wound from few.» «You would make her/it squirt away from the body!» Mac exclaimed, frightened. To the he/she knew very well it. «Not to say imbecilities, knows few about fire weapons, but I is not so foolish to believe you.» The Gomezes became yielding; Mac took the head of a rope, he/she embraced his/her brother and with him it started rotating while Á. the held it stops the rope with the free hand. The rifle weighed an accident, if sustained with an alone hand. To the it leaned him/it on the forearm and it lifted and it lowered as soon as the rope this it wound the Gomezes. When you/they had made many turns his/her brothers they started to oscillate for the sea sickness; Á. the tied together the wrists of the two men, knows that you/they could not free, therefore it ended the job in all calm. As salamis were tied up. To the it threw out of the trunk cable the battered suits of Place and it gagged the Gomezes for their impedir to ask help. They didn't feel like shouting, you/he/she would have been humiliating for them to invoke the paramedics in front of a threat so despised; but when you/they had guessed the idea of Á. the you/they would have been able to change to seem. To the he/she wore the harness, then it grabbed the suspended rope to the hoist, it stared at her/it to the tangle of knots that shut the wrists of the prisoners and it threw the head of the rope of traction. The feet of the Gomezes got up from earth arousing some mugugnis of surprise. They were heavy; the hoist absorbed the three quarters of I strive him/it, but the quarter remainder made to sweat Á. the. They were around forty kilos load; been hung to the rope letting the brothers of some meter lifting. You/he/she had not been aware, you/he/she was forgotten to prepare a system of arrest, if you/he/she was gotten tired too much the two you/they would have reverted as sacks of potatoes. It kept on making strength however, until you/he/she had not brought them near to the branch of support of the hoist, to a two weeks of meters high. The Gomezes mugugnavano continuously, but Á. the from earth didn't succeed in feeling them. With the rope of draught it turned around a tree various times; the asperities of the trunk sustained the weight to its place. It was finally able tirar breath. You/he/she had not ended yet. It fixed better the rope to the trunk and it climbed you. You/he/she would normally have been him to climb effortless, you/he/she had done him since child; but now everything was complicated. It slowly did him/it, helping himself/herself/itself with the branches that he/she met, until it came close to the prisoners I get tired and sweaty. He/she sat on a branch and been granted a moment of rest. The Gomezes, incapable to express him, they stared at him/it with the shelled eyes, ogling there sometimes in low. They didn't have the spirit of the climber. To the it threw some the rope of traction, then it grabbed the skein of ropes that wound the poverettis and it brought her/it on his/her same branch. It was a big branch, even if sets aloft, you/he/she could hold up all and three. To the it made to sit Mac on the layer, then it also made space for the smaller brother. The two men were in unstable balance, now, and you/they were visibly frightened. To the it encircled them with the rope around the trunk of the tree, tightly, with many turns and knots, therefore it separated them from the hoist. They were free, but an everything one with the tree. The youth finally fixed his/her own harness to the hoist, therefore it used the rope of draught to softly go himself/herself/themselves up to earth. It grabbed the cordino and it threw away from the tree the harpoon, that reverted to earth with a deaf thud. It put us few to put again the equipment in the backpack. To lift up there the Gomezes until had brought only away him about ten minutes. Very well. To the it still felt the numbed chiappa, but it set out more quickly that it was able on the street of the return. 23. The auto rattled in the shady grove. It was only a strong pick-up with a seat before, an unique piece that could easily welcome four people. But Isabelita was not prone to share the spaces; you/he/she had accepted for driver her husband Bo, but Bin and other two women were standing in the vain one of load, seized to big metallic pipes from which a jumble of lighthouses orientabili hung. That was the mean preferred by the Gomezes to go to hunting. Bo drove the car among the trees looking for his/her/their brothers; you/he/she could not see the figures of it, lashed aloft there by gusts of wind, busy in the attempt, now frantic, to loosen the ropes that enveloped them. However Á. the had learned to make very well the knots and you/he/she had not granted them big liberties of movement. Mac mugugnò to all strength, but the motor of the auto and the rustle of the leafy branches covered its remonstrations. Bo brought him to few meters from the body of Place and stopped the auto. Isabelita almost went out from there of run and fell him on the dead body. It lowered the face until almost to touch the pie of meat that had been the face of the poveretto comparing that decay with the ruddy protuberance that found again him on the forehead. The hit of Á. the ached her anchor, of intense an and pulsating evil, but it was not anything in comparison to what that hand you/he/she had suffered; in their argument it had us certain put again him. Isabelita inhaled deeply opening wide the nostrils, then him risollevò and it made a sign to his. «You put the gattaro on the car. We go to country» it ordered. The two women of the group jumped down nimbly from the auto and they raced from Place; they grabbed him/it for wrists and ankles and they lifted him/it without apparent difficulty. They were more young people of Isabelita and as many thick, but of a corpulence of muscle. They vaguely resembled her, but they had facial features less altered by the blood nature of their stock. Reia and Tia, the two sisters misanthropes of the leader, perfectly seemed to them ease in to manipulate the dead body. «Where the idiots of your brothers are?» it told then Isabelita her husband. Bo made a grimace of disgust. «Who knows him/it?» he/she answered «they perhaps look for Place.» «It doesn't care» it said Isabelita «rather, better this way. In country that two would have combined only troubles.» The two sisters that hoisted the dead body on the back of the pick-up looked; they moved the body showing two-headed well few female and a showy down ascellare. They were as similar among them they resembled to Isabelita; they had the same expressionless and glacial look, they knew how to intimidate only also a man with that. Isabelita frightened for the facts, to them all it took is appearing. They threw Place in the vain one of load as it came, then they unbecomingly positioned him/it of side with some well arranged soccers. They made a light sign of assent to Isabelita; the woman entered the auto and looked at Bo. «You go» it said. Bo accelerated and began to go down the hillock on the same side from which Á. the had departed. The man procedette with calm, without forcing the wheels all disegualis. The country was impregnate of water; Bo revolved the zones more soaked and cut for of the uncultivated fields reaching the provincial one. It jumped on the asphalt with satisfaction, then takings the direction of the country. It was a small trip of few minutes, done in silence. The man looked every now and then at Isabelita. That shameless frown of his made proud him/it, a devil of wife was married. He/she didn't exactly know thing it had in mind, but you/he/she would have been an amusement. The first houses served capolino as a curve. «Where we go?» he/she asked Bo. «Where a dead body brings him? To the church.» Smiled Bo and it continued until the simple and solemn forms of the chiesetta not him they protected him before. There was some people in the before plaza, absorbed in the usual endless discussions on the maltempo and the to rage some Gomezes. Bo parked the auto in front of the entry of the church grazing a pair of oldies. People stopped speaking when you/he/she recognized the car. The Gomezes remained to their place, in silence, waiting that Isabelita took the initiative. But the woman remained session close to Bo; you/he/she threw down the car window and takings to polish up him the teeth with the fingernail of the little finger. Bo kept on looking in front of itself, Bin sat on the edge of the pick-up and the other two ladies they started studying the solid forms of two batons, the same clubs that Isabelita had very shown to appreciate and well to use in different circumstances. The priest went out of church accompanied by the mayor; the two spoke in a low voice among them, then they brought him from the Gomezes. «Boys» he/she greeted the mayor shaking the candid large head. The priest also lifted a hand him, but without enthusiasm. Both were object of the indifference of the Gomezes, that you/they continued with their contemplative matters. Sees their immobility the piazzetta he revived. People started over speaking in a low voice to low voice holding himself/herself/itself to a certain distance from the new arrivals. The priest went to greet the Gomezes on the back, but when he saw the dead body put ache you/he/she shelled the eyes and you/he/she made him the sign of the cross; the mayor followed him/it and observed with disappointment, horror and pity the unrecognizable body of Place. «A tragic fact» it said the man, turned generically to the five. «Yes» it said Isabelita, looking from now on at itself «they will be other of it, if it doesn't recognize him what it is mine.» «How?» «What is mine!» it shouted Isabelita turning himself/herself/itself to all the presents «this country, his/her resources, the countries. We have a police of ours, that works.» People stared at the woman with amazement; the mayor slowly shook the head. «For whoever it will come from out, provvederemo us» taken back Isabelita, stronger. It opened the counter and it got up standing, leaning on the running board; it was the only way to slightly be taller than the others «the country we defend him/it with our strengths. I will manage him/it me, together with mine. We don't know what I/you/he/she wait out us for Delora, in that crazy world. Perhaps stray, desperate looking for a place from which to draw wealth, organized also even. We will oppose us to us to all the invaders, we will administer the strengths of Delora. The opponents.» the woman clearly looked at the body braked of Place «. they will have his/her same fairies.» The two energumenes opened the back counter of the pick-up and they threw out the dead body to suon of kicks. The rests of Place fell with a group of bones, they unbecomingly lay among the I stun some bystanders, the prepared legs one on the other and the breast toward the clouds pluvius grigie. A woman there near it suffocated a cry of surprise and fear, some men made back instinctively a footstep. «Even if it is dead. to treat him/it I know.» it said the priest. «Sacrestano» it coldly said Isabelita «you do what tells you yours I officiate with this man, then bury him/it.» «Helped to bring me him inside, at least» it objected that. «Buried him/it you» it said in turn the mayor, with malcelata hostility «it is your blood.» Isabelita stared at him/it with contempt. «You are wrong you. Don't you recognize him/it? It is that man gossiper, the mean crazy person that wonders aimlessly on the mountains before the dawn.» The man drew near for giving a glance deepened to the rests of Place, and you/he/she did him/it with the safety of whom knows well thing to look for. «I/you/they have been sorry for this death» it said then «you/he/she would not have had to happen. If you don't want to stay for the function, you return home of it to cry yours joined.» Isabelita left half open plain the eyes and it stuck out him toward the mayor. «You have become of ears hard with the age» it said sharp «here this is not some one Gomez.» «You have not looked well enough, then.» Isabelita went down from the auto, perplexed. The mayor the he placed side by side and it pointed out the legs of the dead one; there were some small reddish dots whereas Á. the had placed his/her arrows. The blood of the wounds had drenched the fabric that that it was enough because a certain part of fluid riaffiorasse. Suffered the suspicion the woman it untied the belt of the pantalonis of the dead body and it bared the inferior limbs of it, arousing a noisy horror in all the presents. The wounds were there, of the you look for red slabbratisi when you/they had been drawn out the arrows. A shoe of Place was separated by the foot for the manoeuvres of Isabelita; the pierced bone and now deformed of the back it made beautiful show of itself, partly discovered by the removed half sock. Blood also there. «Place!» Bo exclaimed, jumping down from the car; it held a hunting rifle and it appeared amazed at least how much his wife. «You!» did Bo exclaim, moving the rifle toward the mayor «if this is my brother, where that guy, Á. the?» «Here» someone said nearby there. Bin lifted the eyes and fixed the figure crouched on the roof of the church. It was Á. the with the arc in fist, to about twenty meters from the Gomezes. The church was an elevated construction, Á. the dominated could the scenes from the tall one. «It throws the rifle, Gomez» it exhorted Á. the. Bo shut the teeth with anger; understood the joke that had made him the gattaro. I rent the most beloved brother it was not certain, but it was of the family however. Bo lifted the mouth of the rifle and this time Á. the not attended the last moment; an arrow that went to pierce the bicepses right of Gomez struck. The man howled from the pain allowing to fall the earth rifle. The mayor was unthinkably quick and grabbed the weapon throwing her/it distant. Bo looked at the elderly one estrange from the group of the Gomezes, as they did the others give to Á. the the possibility to dark check freely the situation. «I don't want to kill» it said Á. the, forking another arrow «The don'ts want that I/you/he/she still happen.» «What you have done of it of my other brothers?» it said Bin rabbiosamente «we don't have more them found. Done also die them?» «No. They are tied up to the sure one. You are alone, now. Without weapons.» «Two blunders in an only sentence» it said Bin, reaching Bo; it tightened something behind the back «for first thing, I don't believe you. You have killed them as I Rent. And then.» Without any prudence but with more decision than you/he/she had shown Bo, Bin Gomez extracted a big rifle to pomp and aimed him/it at Á. the. There was not the time to contemplate and to press the trigger; the point of an arrow penetrated in the right shoulder of Bin, that rotated as a marionette and a deafening hit exploded in everything other direction lifting a murmur of dismay from the most greater brother: Bin had just braked the left hand of Place. The phalanxes ruled of blood the flooring to mattoncini of the piazzetta, shed to few meters of distance from the unfortunate owner. Bin sat to earth gasping and allowed to fall the rifle. The mayor also fell as a hawk on that and passed him/it to the preferred chierichetto of the priest, that finickily grabbed him/it with two fingers and you/he/she brought far it. Bin and Bo are sat both to earth, now. Incredibly they whined. Isabelita had the eyes as flames. It assumed a disgusted air and it turned the shoulders to the joined wounded. The population slowly started to flow from the houses; a cautious procession that it gradually surrounded the two men for earth and the three furious women. The two horsewomen on the back went down from the auto with the clubs in fist. «It is useless to oppose himself/herself/themselves to the country» it said with calm the mayor «you leave the batons and entrances in the church with us. We will take care of your men.» People were quite a lot and were a lot next to the Gomezes. This was the first error. Someone stuck out the hands toward the batons to do him them to deliver: the second error. If also the male Gomezes had not shown to be worth big that, for the females Gomez was different. When Isabelita saw the forest of hands and the smiles of satisfaction just mentioned, it felt the anger increase inside of itself; a shiny and serious anger, that had been springing for years of experience in to manage with hardness the irrational focosità of the masculine line of the family. It made only a sign to his/her companions, and those aimed the clubs with renewed conviction and they cleverly rotated above her head. The deaf sound of the impacts, and three people fell to the ground while some tooth squirted far for going to bounce on the near sidewalk. It was as signal: in the hands of Isabelita another club appeared, as if actually to then you/he/she had been hidden under the suit, and the three ladies they began a ballet made of amazing pirouettes, smothered cries and collapses to chain of struck bodies. The mayor opened wide the eyes from the amazement; you/they had underestimated the Gomezes, you/he/she was evident. There was a you run away you run away general and again the three women were found again sun, to the mercy of the draughts of Á. the. The mayor turned him toward the young one, as to tell him": from the"!. But Á. the didn't throw. The braccias trembled him now, you/he/she could not take well the aim. You/he/she could strike, certain, but it was not able to know exactly where, and it was to kill effortless with the arrows. It tried to stop the trembling of the hands, but it was him impossible, then an instant laid down him leaning the back on the stratum of the roof. The clouds proceeded plain above of him pushed by the winds in quota. For some second the man breathed the fresh air of the afternoon, ignoring the sounds and the hot tempered cries from the square of under. It was to the terminal and he/she knew him/it. You/he/she had definitely lost the control of itself same. It imagined the own balzanis neurotrasmettitori that messily stirred in his/her brain, bowling balls that they demolished as ninepins the pillars of his/her biochemical equilibrium. «Porca and riporca» it murmured the young one, suffocated by the old ones horrible feelings of once. All inside of him stretched out him toward the survival, but it did him/it with such intensity not to allow to physically react him to the threat. To the it didn't fear for the situation to risk or really for his/her own life; suffering had eliminated for a long time that worry. His was a purely chemical reaction; something in him shouted so strongly to prostrate him/it until in the intimate perpetrating the most merciless of the possible aggressions. The braccias waved for the sudden attack, you/he/she could not do anything to stop her. The mayor realized his/her difficulty, you/he/she was from a piece that Á. the you/he/she showed to be everything anything hilts other than well; I know he called to big voice the chierichetto because the rifle of Bin brought him. «I have thrown him, gentleman» it said the boy. «Go to take back then it» the mayor insisted. «I am not able. I didn't know whether to put him/it and I have thrown him in the well.» There was an ancient well to the side of the plaza; it didn't use him/it more anybody, but it was of valuable invoice and you/he/she had remained there, to memory of the first installation of Delora. «Curse» it said the mayor, the three women that chased the citizens sneering looking «it looks for the first rifle, that of Bo.» «Ehm.» it made the boy, looking himself/herself/itself at the feet «it is also in the well that.» «Porca poverty. Here the people if it gives her/it to legs.» It was true. The ladies Gomez was become the owners of the plaza. On the ground there was about ten fainted people or painful. Isabelita returned from the mayor with a printed surly smile on the face. It did for striking the elderly one with his/her baton, then it considered us. «Now it touches to the gattaro. You it is' to look, that you ago well» it said the woman, with some bead of sweat on the forehead. It had a second occasion to give the example; with his/her men to ache party, his/her violence and of the girls you/he/she was upsetting the fates of the clash however. Few imported what it had Á. the, it was not anymore evidently able to stop her; you/he/she had perhaps finished the arrows or even it was qualcos'altro. But it was unarmed and you/they would have taken advantage them of it. Isabelita made sign to the sisters to go himself/herself/themselves to the other entries of the church, that back and the access from the adjacent parsonage. You entered from the principal. To the some instant hesitated on still the roof, the arc turning himself/herself/itself among the hands. The mayor said a distracted look to Bin and Bo, sat as beoti shoulders to the auto, then you/he/she drew near to the church and you/he/she shouted: «They arrive, Á. the.» The young one turned him toward the window of the skylight that alleged to the roof; Isabelita would have leaned out of there to few, covetous of revenge and of power. You/he/she could already feel the scrunch of the steps that you/they brought up there since. To the it inserted the arc to the shoulder and it systematized the arrows remained in the quiver, then it began to slowly slip on the tiles to reach it her/it; you/he/she was coming down well here is the steep stratum. With prudence he/she was forced to jump it her/it and it beat a sonorous schienata on the underlying canopy that covered the colonnade of entry. It was to four meters high, now; on all four it drew near to the second it, with greater caution, whether to fall of there, with the sense of equilibrium that found again him to the moment, you/he/she would have brought certain to some ugly fracture. The mayor had understood everything. He was elderly and his/her scurvy fellow citizens rather, but nobody would have been able to prevent Á. to help him the as it was able. In hurry and fury it made to push the van of the priest out of the garage, in insane and to out motor; three boys of the parish choir moved the van toward of him, while Bin and Bo observed stupidly. When the vehicle silently stopped him in front of the entry of the church they finally understood the sense of that manoeuvre. «Hey, women!» it howled Bo with discovery spirit «it escapes you from under the nose!» To the it threw him from it her/it and it beat the gluteis on the canopy of the van. It suffocated a cry of pain, then he allowed to slip up to earth. The mayor helped him/it to rise again himself/herself/themselves, leaving his arm when he saw the expression on his/her face: you/he/she was a mask of suffering. «The key is in the picture. Strength, Á. the.» The youth reacted and jumped on board. Luckily the priest held very well the car; the motor immediately departed. «You/he/she has not gone just as it owed, but patience» it said Á. the, with weak voice «torch that that we have established, mayor. I know how to get by her/it.» The elderly one did of yes with the head; it didn't suit him to leave Á. the to his/her destiny, but the country came for first. To the it crushed on the accelerator. One of the Gomezes emerged at that time from the side of the church and to the meantime Isabelita it leaned out to the window on the roof. «Stop him/it!» it shouted Isabelita. Reia, armed with baton, if it didn't do him/it say twice. Raced to all strength against the auto that was accelerating, ignoring the evident danger. It brandished the club twos hands and it rotated downward her from the tall one. The auto missed her/it of few centimeters, but she struck the correct windscreen in the mean. A rain of splinters watered Á. the in the cabin. The youth fought for maintaining the mastery of the vehicle. But Á. the had not passive been; while Reia struck the windscreen, he had opened the counter to catching her/it by surprise. The door struck her/it of graze, making to tumble her/it for earth in the middle of the mud. The auto jumped on the sidewalk and inserted him in a hedge devastating the muretto of surrounded immediately over, stopping himself/herself/itself. To the takings to kicks the windscreen until this didn't hang from a side uppercut, for then to fall on the grass sowing myriads of crystalline translucent. The woman, that he was raising again, had surprisingly succeeded in maintaining the possession of the wood what time you/he/she turned to the portion wipe away her some mean, to power on motor but she anchors immovable. It destroyed a back fanalino, but you/he/she could not do more. To the it geared the reverse and it departed to all gas showily skidding, and meanwhile Reia removed him and he/she took the aim to strike the driver with the baton while the auto unthread beside her. Of, new the woman didn't calculate the anterior counter, that opened correct when Á. the was reaching her draught; this time the door the takings in full serving her saltar by the weapon as the hands. Reia was overwhelmed and it rotated twice on itself same before tumbling again to earth. «You Gomez not you ever learn» it murmured Á. the passing her to side. Reia got up again, slowly, the fanfold right arm on the ribs, harshly stricken. It didn't show any suffering, raced to grab the club for earth with the left hand and it studied the auto that estranged from her. It tasted some the dampness that slipped on her lips, edged by moist down of water and mud; expressionless, absorbed. To the it straightened the auto, badly deformed on the before, and he/she left the plaza taking the road toward the footstep among the hills. Reia shouted an expression irriferibile, but shinily, without emotional content, dictated above all by the habit to the free scurrilous language; therefore the baton loaded him on the shoulder. «Gotten a decent mean!» Isabelita shouted her. The woman withdrew him from the window and fell down him to rout of neck for the staircase of the church. Tia appeared beside Reia gasping for the run; it observed without comments the conditions of his/her/their sister, then it grabbed the first victim to course of braccia and the shake as a bed rug. The manikin beat the teeth and understood the antiphon. With the right fuor of pocket was chased the keys and with the left it pointed out his/her own auto to the woman before suffering worse consequences. Tia was satisfied; it seemed a mean comfort and fast, certain more than the car with which you/they had arrived until there. Isabelita appeared racing as a mad person, in time to jump on board of the vehicle already in motion. The Gomez to the guide made to roar the motor and with a beautiful stridìo of tires the car squirted away taking the same direction of Á. the. In an instant the principal plaza of Delora returned calm. Someone of the bruised ones lifted him from earth complaining himself/herself/itself with mixed voice. The mayor saw the priest, there, close to him. «We do as we have decided with Á. the. You play the bells. We go all together with to take back us that that it belongs us to house of the Gomezes. The violent dregs of their stock is out game or in search of the boy. When those diavolesses will return, if they will return, they will find us ready to welcome aiming her their weapons. The dominion of the Gomezes is ended before starting.» The priest nodded with a long furrow of worry on the forehead; the point in which the two autos were quickly dispersed looked. «And that boy?» he/she asked. «If it will get by. It is smart» it said the mayor. But it was not able that to consider to the expression suffered that you/he/she had seen drawn on the face of the young one while it was helping him/it to rise again himself/herself/themselves. 24. The auto of the priest was kept well, however it was not certain big that. To the it pressed the tablet accelerator, but it was evident that the auto of the Gomezes earned terrestrial. The arc inserted in shoulder bothered him, the quiver it prevented him from resting himself/herself/themselves to the seat, so it freed him of both and it leaned them close to itself. The youth drove with evident difficulty, not only because it was badly; without the windscreen speed forced him to almost close the eyes for the big wind. Dark was starting to lower in the valley. It was not late, but a recrudescence of the maltempo began to stretch a cloak of obscurity on country and countries. Dark and slow Nuvolonis placed him in the center of the sky dispersing the last flashes of light of the noon. Taken to gradually rain, almost with timidity. To the he/she saw the lighthouses of the pursuers throw backer lightnings some hundred meters. It also turned on them him. The provincial one was not illuminated, even in the next line to the country. It was cold to that speed, the rain annoyingly entered drenching seats and driver. The shirt of Á. the drenched him of water and of sweat getting to the young additional shivers. Then the hell instigated him. The rain took down to obsessive venir, to sticky goccioloni, making the impossible guide. To the he/she didn't know anymore where it was, he/she succeeded to bad punishment to glimpse the edge of the road. It rained so to make the air to miss. The youth, hoping to improve the things, without getting big that. You/he/she could not see the auto of the pursuers anymore. His/her own lighthouses were of obstacle, they made to be resplendent the iridescent stripes that snowed from the tall one to damage of the details of the roadway. Lost the sense of the time; it was said that that clash could not last that some other instant, but when he/she succeeded in being hardly saved himself/herself/themselves from the third approach to the road eyelash with a desperate - and fortunate - intervention to straighten the vehicle, definite that was not the case to risk over. It stopped the auto in the beautiful mean of the government one, to beautiful mail, it extinguished the lighthouses and descents closing again the door. A moment hesitated; only that was an obstacle that risked to cause quite a lot pain to the Gomezes, but you/he/she would not have been deadly. The fetid three could not even proceed in speed them, tant'era the maltempo. It estranged from the road trying to orient himself/herself/themselves; it went up again the bank of a full ditch, shaking the shoes full of water and more times slipping on the inerbato. He/she didn't see anything and it was tired. It tried to make himself/herself/themselves he/she forces, but it was not quite badly to be laid down down there whipped by the rain. There was then the impact. You/he/she had not believed after all you until; it was from idiots to race on that road and the Gomezes they knew well that was not able forever their sfuggir. There was instead the sudden sound of a taut motor and a noise of ferraglia and broken glasses. Then, the silence. After a couple of minutes a door beat; a mega sneeze, then the noise of footsteps of someone that was looking for him/it. The rain became less violent making the work of the pursuers easier. It had all the fortunes, Á. the. The youth lay on the sweet slope to closed eyes. «But yes, Lori, after all who rubs» it murmured. Taken to day-dream allowing to go the mind. It was serene. It felt that that that of badly could happen had already happened him to him. You granted a long moment of abandonment. It returned to his/her memoirs. 25. The house was very great, one of the last, ancient noble constructions still turned to residence. Dan, the father of Lori, lived alone him. This, by itself, it was already rather depressing; Lori had spent the whole preceding day to put him/it on the notice, especially for the caustic vein that his/her father was granted toward the new come. Worse, if his/her daughter's companions; worse anchor, if you/they had not earned their first million yet neither they had ambition or perspectives in such sense. You/they would have remained for a week there, nominally for vacation; but the thing could reveal all anything else other than relaxing. To know Dan had been almost illuminating, for Á. the; him, that had always tried to understand the people to the beginning of his/her career, in Dan you/he/she had found an individual fact with to die by now lost. To talk to Dan meant to discuss with a hard and the endless his/her echis. You/he/she had tried to explain to Lori; the word that came him to mind to describe his/her father was doubleness, but it was of big long defective. It was not false, Dan, everything other. Only that to converse with him was as possession of forehead two people; the discourses seemed to always assume double meaning. Dan could be faced provided that the interlocutor was duplicated also. Lori didn't succeed in understanding him and Á. the after burdens it gave up explaining him him; but he immediately learned to split up himself/herself/themselves in two since, in his/her presence, without the girl if it realized of it. «Therefore, this. it is À. the» it said Dan when they appeared him before. He/she wore a room dress, still convalescent later something more of a chill and less of an influence. The sentence and his/her reverberations it made to jolt Á. the; Lori and he had just entered stay. Dan was opening the mail of the morning without any hurry. It was a tall man, from the austere air, with all those small wrinkles of expression around the lips and the dark outline of three marked lines of sorrow on the forehead. The voice, not gruff, it was incisive however. To the it translated in automatic: "That' therefore'. you/they have already spoken of me; and the break before my name. The ams appraising you, son, already from the first look, but The don'ts recognize you yet what companion of Lori. They are things that are earned, these." To the shake the head, thinking about galloping too much with the imagination. «Mr..» it said À. the shaking his/her hand. The eyes of Dan flashed; the look of the two men was crossed and they was understood to the flight. Dan had tightened with strength and constancy, longly; the taking of Á. the was been normal, for then to increase while the contact prolonged him. Dan had translated well a great deal. "I don't care of you" it had in reality intended Á. the" The don'ts have to show you void, but if it is the war that looks for, with you find her/it to me." Also Á. the had understood; theirs would have been to permanent duel which Dan would never have escaped. Lori slightly smiled, unaware. It was an acute girl, but the presence of his/her/their father made her/it refractory to the use of its same abilities of perception. «And his/her mother?» it said Lori. Dan tightened him in the shoulders; you/they had divorced from a piece and Lori it held to that they were very often felt. Secretly he/she still brooded in her the childish desire that you/they returned together. «Ah, and where is it? I would like to greet her/it» it said Á. the, suddenly talkative; the presence of his/her/their wife would perhaps have sweetened the old he-goat. Dan stared at him/it for an instant. «The divorce, Á. the. she doesn't live here» it said then Lori, account making himself/herself/itself that you/he/she had never spoken to him of it. To the it felt to have made a blunder. «I understand.» it mentioned, with too emphasis. Dan stretched the lips. "I believe well it, if it is brisk halves Lori it is held to the wide one" it translated the man in automatic. "It is obvious that it is held to the wide one, if it is awake halves Lori" he/she thought of effects Á. the. «You should call her/it you. Because you immediately don't do him/it? Then you pass her/it to me» it said Dan. To the it looked around him hoping there for pits a telephone. There was not, naturally. "The old man wants to talk to me." Dan mentioned a smile. "We understand very well there, us two" he/she thought" now you will pass under of me, and you know him/it. When mother and daughter chat you/they can last quite a lot." Lori kissed his/her father, pleased of the proposal, and it went out of the room to talk to his/her mother. «It is a smart girl, my daughter» it said Dan pointing out the armchair to Á. the. "You don't deserve her/it, and however for it is still now my thing" it translated Á. the. "It is a classical" he/she thought" a rebuke is now up to me with the bows." «It is him/it» Á. the consented. Dan rippled the forehead. Condescension. Had you/he/she already decided to surrender himself/herself/themselves so, the boy, that was of it of their game? «It is independent. He/she knows what wants» taken back Á. the. Smiled Dan. After all you/he/she was not ended, that duel. "You/he/she has chosen" it interpreted the man" and you/he/she has chosen me, it doesn't hang from the lips of the paparino anymore." Dan neglected to offer him to drink according to the label and Á. the it pretended not to realize of it. The man asked him as you/they were known and Á. the was well pleased to tell him him, surrendering to the temptation of limestone burdens the hand. You let for a half litterbug that you/he/she had confused and tricked a naïve ragazzina working of hints and of halfwords passed. Dan followed that story inflating to lines the cheeks and contracting the jaws; the man faked to ignore the double senses of Á. the, taking the story for that that the would have been dark second his/her parents' simpleton. In reality Dan started to worry himself/herself/themselves. The boy thought his/her challenge and maneuvered well, you/he/she didn't seem to fear him/it; rather, to lines you/he/she seemed to pick around it up. To the it reacted beyond the suggestions of Lori, by now. You had recommended him the line of the surliest resistance, with his/her father, but he was going over. Dan stirred with great slowness, now, as it was usual to make Lori when you/he/she was raged. It firmly checked his/her own reactions, the old one, keeping on being polite and easy-going. "Kind with the friend, kind with the enemy" it was a witticism in which both the men believed. They conversed with increasing geniality, as passerotti hooting. But it was everything anything else other than calm, Á. the; you/he/she was winning that risk, but only because it was already found in advantage in departure: Lori was with him, they cohabited, and Dan didn't have voice in chapter on this. As you/he/she would have gone subsequently, when Dan would have had the opportunity of attaching him on events to come and not on a state of fact? Was shrewd, Dan; how much talent wasted in the acridity! When Lori reentered in the room it found the two men sat on the couches, confrontation, separated by a tavolinetto of crystal on which it leaned a great chessboard in alabaster. Dan was a good player, Á. the alone discreet, too much impatient devoted to precious time to lose himself/herself/themselves behind the project of movements and countermoves. But Dan had challenged him with persuasive and polite ways. The juice of the game, to the appearance antiseptic and intellectual, it was that it needed to destroy the adversary. To the he/she knew that you/he/she would not have had to accept, it was not to the height. Dan talked to profusion after having moved, putting him/it in difficulty; the ego of the youth reacted striving himself/herself/itself to produce sensible answers and at the same time to devote the necessary appointment to withstand the attacks organized of the other. It was a magician with the horses, Dan. They were everywhere, they defended the king and they insinuated his/her queen. Lori saw that they played and smiled satisfied. It was the first time that his/her father was granted so much to one of his/her friends; Á. the had to like indeed him. «Dad, his/her mother is to the telephone» you/he/she said Lori placing side by side himself/herself/itself to Á. the. «It seems that your king has the short breath, Á. the» you/he/she said his/her father with atonic voice. «Dad.» Dan distractedly nodded; he/she wanted to win the game and it was about to do him/it. What Á. the devoted him to the game of the goose or to rubamazzetto, that left that game to the men from men. «I will call her later back, Lori. Do you regret it? To the here it doesn't allow me to go.» «To go can go, Dan» it agreeably said Á. the. Dan looked at him/it of rhyming, quietly smiling. "I know where you would like to send me, boy, but here and I will now win me. And I won't detach me from this table, I won't lose sight my affairs, it is well that you know him/it. But do you know him/it, true Á. the? It is not only a game, this." Lori hesitated, then it returned from his/her mother. To the you/he/she could not win, but it was not this what it pressed him. It maneuvered for defending the king with all of his/her pieces; now they were both in silence, each hocked without reservations him accelerating movement after movement. He/she didn't want a lot us because Á. the was found with the shoulders to the wall; almost without pedestrians, you/he/she could interposed only pieces of value to obviate to the brittleness of his/her situation. Dan also dismantled that defense, gradually. The crazy chessman was inevitable. Smiled Dan, but Á. also did him/it the. «Chessman» it said Dan. To the you/he/she would have been able to surrender himself/herself/themselves, and instead picked up an ensign of the adversary immediately losing after his/her own tower. Did Dan noisily inhale: thing tried to do the boy? But it didn't care, after all. You/he/she had lost. Dan advanced his/her own queen and Á. the it found again him to alternative an; you/he/she could move to horse to pick up the queen, but then Dan would have used the ensign that was behind her to close the game to his/her favor. In alternative, Á. the could escape with the king prolonging the game of another po.' But it was not that his/her plan. He/she ate the queen. Dan acted of impulse and advanced with the ensign. «Crazy» it said. To the he/she was immovable some instant, as if you/he/she had not understood the defeat. Lori entered the room. «I have won, boy» it clarified Dan without slipping out trionfalismo. «Yes?» it made plain Á. the. Dan stared at him/it without understanding. «The kings don't interest me» it murmured Á. the. Then it opened the hand showing the last piece that you/he/she had taken to the other. His/her queen. «This me enough» concluded Á. the. Left half open Dan the eyes. "I have won the wrong mail" he/she thought. «It is time to unload the car, don't you believe?» it told Á. the Lori with vivacity. «Certain» it said Lori «we systematize there to the last floor, dad. If you don't regret.» «No» it said Dan «fairies also.» You/he/she had lost him at the end. It is good to Á. the. Especially because the boy didn't show some gratification. Beautiful type. Dan was received. «You also go, dear. I go to call your mother.» The girl kissed him/it on the cheek and went out together to Á. the to take the baggages. 26. It was, that, one of the few occasions in which Á. the could say to have her/it blunt with Dan. But the thing didn't give him anymore so much satisfaction, to well to think of us. Poor Dan. You/they would have been able to be friends, instead. but he was dead without À. the knew how to show him an anything that went over the stainless film of which both seemed mantled. Because, because people have to build him this damned bark? "I regret it, Dan" he/she thought Á. the The pours again to earth. It slowly inhaled, leaving that the drizzle the dilavasses the face. «What there is, do you have intention to make to take you?» The voice, weak but near, it induced him to reopen the eyes. «Be', in short.» À. the responded, indefinite with expression. Who devil was, this other? Rather, this other. The tone was undoubtedly female. Certainly it was not a Gomez, of them you/he/she would everything have felt the point of the baton. To the it turned him to the new arrived; the rain was more clement, now, he succeeded in seeing there up to some meter in. To the it beat a couple of times the eyelids; porca poverty, or he was definitely rimbecillito, or that was an infradiciatissima Eva Heinz. You lifted to sit. «Eva, that you do us next to the footstep?» «What you say, Á. the? The footstep is far, we are near in your house. To hundred meters. I have felt the blow of the accident. All to place?» «My House? Curse.» With the good intention to conduct the genìa of the Gomezes distant from house, at the end you/he/she had brought them really there. «Not to put scrubs yourself» it added Eva «but I have seen to go down from the auto Isabelita Gomez.» The friend was able to do two more two. It was as if Á. the was whipped by an electric shake. It blocked the eyes and it went off standing. You looked around; it was away from the road, but not as much as you/he/she would have hoped. «Better spinning her/it to him» it murmured Á. the «those damned Khan feel us.» «To go where? In the house there is Mine and.» «I know him/it. But I have to go really there. If they wait for him/it, they know very well where I live. I will have to think about something not to make to enter her.» Eva stared at him/it for a moment. It had an ugly aspect that man but something in him it gave her trust. Determination perhaps, a palpable determination, rediscovery once known where you/he/she was stopped with the car; Á. the would not have allowed anybody to hurt his/her friends, he/she was read him/it to him in torch. As you/he/she would have done he/she didn't even know him/it him. But Eva this could not guess him/it. «Strength, let's precede her» it suggested Á. the. It set out homeward with Eva reporting her main point around last events. They walked in hurry, aware that the maltempo would have slow down the pursuers. It was not so easy to orient himself/herself/themselves, also for the one that knew the place to menadito. «But then, my goodness. you have almost envoy out game all the Gomezes. Those that count!» concluded surprised once Eva Heinz that Á. the had finished his/her story. «Those that count are near here that look for me» it specified Á. the. «We can also make her/it with them. They are only three.» «You would not tell him/it if I/you had seen her use those clubs. And then we am two and, if you have not noticed him, our masculine component is not entirely in form.» «Uhm.» it made Eva, giving blackberries him aware glance «The believe you on the word. What idea do you have?» Who had told her that it had some ideas? They arrived soon luckily next to house. There was an unreal peace, and little would have lasted. The wounded were to rest in the rooms than above, Mine he took care of the cats in morbid way. They entered house dirtying everywhere. Eva had a moment of hesitation but Á. the it gently pushed her/it inside. «We will clean another time» it said the young one. You/they had just crossed the threshold that the floor of the entry had already assumed a tone marroncina. «To the!» Mine exclaimed, racing I meet him with a smiled of it. To the it leaned a hand on the head biondiccio. "Lori" he/she thought" perhaps our child would be so, if lives." To the shake the head as to free himself/herself/themselves some thought. Then it perceived a light noise in the other room. Something boiled on the fire. «Is cooking?» he/she asked. «Pasta to the juice. Iummm!» it said the baby. It was almost now already of supper, by now. There was a pentolone of water that blustered and a small bundle of spaghetti that didn't succeed in being him of it standing anymore; yielding sciaguattava in the cauldron, fileggiando. To the smiled among itself, then it turned him to Eva, with calm, not to upset his/her daughter. «You close well the doors but not the windows, I want to look out. Then goings than above to make company to the sick.» Eva consented and been said by to do, helped by the small one; Á. the takings to wander for the house, peering at to the outside to check if his/her sisters had already arrived. Mine and Eva made him a sign and they climbed to the close-up. You felt lifted. Told a glance the pot on the fire; the spaghetti penalties would be him. Better. The staircases crocchiarono again and Eva raced from him imitating his/her wary look toward the outside. «You sees anybody?» To the it crossed the braccias. «What you believe to do, have not I told you to stay on?» «With the cabbage. I want to help you.» «You have already done that that it serves.» The hands of the youth tightened strong the forearms, but not enough to prevent a light trembling of the fingers. Eva was not able not to notice him/it. «Uhm» it did her «you have to be a cold of the devil.» «No» it limited him to say Á. the. «Then. The think about being able to exclude an incipient bronchitis fever.» The voice of the woman was full of irony. But there was also a veil of apprehension. «Ugh» mugugnò Á. the, sticking out himself/herself/itself to give to glance toward an external angle of the house. «As the things are you tell me him another time» he/she ascertained Eva. «Already» it said Á. the. It was about to start to nibble him the fingernails, him that you/he/she had never had that vice, when he/she finally saw a dank figure draw near to the residence. «He/she listens well» it murmured the young one, staring at Eva in the eyes «it returns from your daughter. I work badly, but I work better when I don't have to worry me for the people that are me to heart. Believe me on the word. Those have him solo with me, for now. We do what the things stay this way. It returns on.» For an instant Á. the stayed stunned by that that you/he/she had just said. People that are him to heart! And then, did he feel indeed better if it fought alone? The youth warned that the answer was a yes, but for a reason that up to a little before you/he/she had not understood: it was not for inclined solipsismo, but because when it was only to him and he to give him to do, it felt so strongly the burden of responsibility toward the others to fight better against his same chemistry. A psychological component, that that had given him the lash of adrenaline while it was being supine on the shore of the ditch; if Eva had not appeared you/he/she would not be raised again. Simply you/he/she would not have found the strength. There was not only the chemistry, then. It was also to him. This new conscience infused him greater determination. However Eva didn't want to know of it. It slightly shook the head, it was also his/her battle. Those accursed had struck his/her family. Then he/she still met the look of Á. the. Pure grim. The hands trembled, but it didn't seem an important thing; the youth was perhaps right, it worked better if the things it conducted her to his/her way. Eva tightened him strong an arm. «I go from Mine» it whispered. Taken the street of the staircases and silently it disappeared than above. To the it turned his/her attentions to the outside, to the first Gomez that with safety it walked I pour the house. The man if it studied her/it while it was drawing near. It was Tia. It grasped the baton with both the hands, it walked plain but definite toward the door of entry. It had to revolve part of the building, however, since the government road was from the opposite side. To the it went to the stoves, taken the pot and runs in the bath, opened the window and he/she remained in attended. Tia had to pass of there. A cat of who knows who went making behind him the purrs but Á. the it ignored him/it; it had other to which to think. Tia appeared under the shutter. The house of Á. the was an to little raised again by earth that I know much that was enough for avoiding to beat around the head against the fixtures windmills. The cat rubbed him to the legs of Á. the making burdens blandishments, meowing; Tia brusquely turned the head toward the inside and À. the it opened wide the window. Moved Tia the baton but Á. the, threw by instinct her, The sets the poor cat. The animal reacted maluccio: you/he/she scratched Tia in face and you/he/she tried to escape from the rain. Tia however it grabbed him/it with a hand getting further him him of back and Á. the it took advantage to insert her pot in head of it, inverted. Tia had an instant of amazement and Á. the it made strength on the handles treading her container until on the neck. Tia allowed to go the cat and tried to free only himself/herself/themselves some pot shaking the head. But the thing became a great deal immediately more criticism: the water, warm, you/he/she was roaring on her and it entered until in the suits; some spaghettos it made capolino from under the edge of the casserole. It was a red-hot bath, unbearable. Tia sent forth a grunt, it allowed to go cat and baton and the supper tore him from the head with extreme violence. Then it began to stir around there almost gropingly until it didn't happen in the first available puddle, where it inserted him with an enthusiastic dive of head. He/she remained there trying to refresh himself/herself/themselves; the neck was becoming color cherry, Tia it breathed some yes some no, so absorbed in the water, but it seemed intenzionata not to unstick him from its puddle. To the he/she let her/it lose; with the tail of the eye you/he/she had seen Isabelita that he was approaching to the house from the other side. The young runs out and it inserted him in the capanno of the utensils closing behind the door of itself; Isabelita heard the hit of it and diverted, coasting along the wall of the capanno. It peered at from the finestrella, but it was too much dark and nothing was not seen; the woman almost did for opening the door, when this opened from itself and from the inside an a little reassuring sound you/he/she came, as of rubbed blades. Isabelita made back a footstep interdict. To the it appeared of sudden on the threshold with a damned lawnmower antediluvian, completely mechanic; there were the blades rugginose that whirled, you directly operates from the motion of the wheels, and he was directing verse of her. Isabelita opened wide the eyes but not stirred, appraising the situation; the lawnmower lengthened downward with a greater course of its arm armed with baton. To the era party to rocket toward of her, convinced of that that it did. So much was enough for inducing to withdraw her/it, to withdraw anchor, and then to run away before to Á. which put her/it all to reach with the utensil his/her plump calves. To the, for how much in a difficult moment, you/he/she could not avoid a motion of scompiscio; but if you/he/she had also inhibited the impulse ridanciano, it was not able to race over however. It, snickering to asphyxiated but savory taps. "I am really crazy" he/she thought. Isabelita became red as a pepper, he turned and told a big mazzata the ancient mechanism reducing him/it in pieces. To the runs to bashful and it went to slip again himself/herself/themselves in the replacement. Isabelita snarled, therefore it drew near to the shelter without hurry. It tried the door with the free hand, and it still tried. It was closed, Á. the held back her/it from the inside, or there was perhaps to stake or similar stuff. Her didn't care; the woman prepared the baton. It was a porticina from nothing, an alone hit you/he/she would have been enough for her. It lifted the club, but a sudden sound attracted its attention. A motor to burst as sputazzò of that smoke, there, inside that she separately heard Á. the to cough and he/she saw to grey cloudlet make himself/herself/themselves road among the cracks of the building toward the outside. The door opened wide again him; Isabelita withdrew a few to become himself/herself/themselves account. To the it went out grasping a lawnmower more modern with the accelerator to all strength. It was one of that instruments to plastic thread, how much more away from a dangerous weapon you/he/she could be imagined. Isabelita smiled sinister, it referred from now on then a footstep. To the it lifted the instrument and the woman it whitened from the surprise and the pain; a long strip of blood appeared on her taurine neck whereas the whip had struck her. To the you/he/she had lengthened the whip for over a meter, eliminating from the car every protection. The filament, that on the winds canonical centimeters you/he/she would have hurt only, with that arm of action it was something dangerous. But only for the first hit; the cordino was not made for this and you/he/she immediately was enfeebled detaching himself/herself/itself from the car. Isabelita didn't know him/it. It prepared the club to answer per second attack, that didn't come. To the it launched her I set the lawnmower, she intercepted him/it and it pushed him/it of side with the baton while the man disappeared again in the capanno. Isabelita had of it enough. «Thing is, a damned game?» bofonchiò «games with me, Á. the?» Anybody answer. The woman prepared again the hit against the door. The deaf sound of another motor still appeared to burst, this time some difficult, but constant. To the it felt indeed like amusing himself/herself/themselves, but she would not have granted him other relaxations. It handed the ear to understand what kind of utensil could be, then definite to care; its predatory instinct suggested her that something didn't go, in that matter. It struck it brings her/it average strength but the wood him sbreccò immediately folding up himself/herself/itself in two frayed spezzonis that fell to the ground without big noise. You/he/she had been from not too long a door. Isabelita entered brandishing the club; at he looked around, but Á. the there was not anymore. An old deprived motozappa of ploughshare softly crackled in an angle. The side finestrella was wide open; Á. the had covered the noise of the escape with that with the motor. Isabelita grinded and jumped to the outside racing away from the capanno. Here it is, the youth was there, intent to race as a wounded animal toward the road. Isabelita departed good, which, seen the woman that was, it very quickly meant not. To the it assured him to have been seen and succession, therefore taken the direction of the government one. It was some worried for the third virago, Reia, because you/he/she had not seen around her; besides it had to make sure himself/herself/themselves that also Tia followed him/it. This way, when it found again him to the covered with some dense trees it returned back. He/she left that Isabelita overcame him/it without acknowledging him, while it was peering at his/her ankles cicciute from the impromptu hideaway, then it turned around the house just in time to be grabbed for the collar by a furious Tia. According to his/her style, the girl didn't speak but the face, ruddy, you/he/she was a disaster, and you/he/she had to make her an evil of the devil. To the he wriggled but Tia with an only hand lifted him/it from earth. The shoes of Á. the they got excited fifteen centimeters above the pavement. Does her of Á. the it was turned to the building and the hand, in that humiliating situation, he/she saw to preoccupatissima Eva to serves capolino as to window. Under of he felt Tia roar plain. With the free hands the youth tried to give him to do but, after that that it had subìto, Tia seemed entirely refractory to that pos' of pain that Á. the could inflict her. The kicks didn't even work, it seemed to strike a statue of marble. Strengths began he to miss, as the ideas. Tia kept on sustaining him/it without apparent work. It had the bicepses enormous, completely tense for the effort. The other hand brandished the baton, but to the moment she didn't even seem to realize of it; it had Á. the in fist, literally, and I know much was enough for her. In balìa of that monster, Á. the didn't succeed in thinking better about nothing of whether to break away the buttons of the flap. Tia lifted an eyebrow. «It gives on the power on red, lady» it said Á. the with mixed voice «The know me thing it works with the burns. Urea. A panacea, allows to use.» He/she didn't know you/he/she would have had the forwardness; it noticed that down there Eva already held a hand on the mouth. The face of Tia transformed him from a constant sneer to a mutable expression of orripilato contempt. «You, small man» it chewed Tia shaking him/it with the manone. It cast far it, or at least so it seemed to the young one, since it fell to the ground with a beautiful bathed thud. In reality it had him few more than allowed to go, pushing him/it street with that that it stayed some strength in his/her arm. However it put on her/it, Á. the was again free. But Tia rotated the club with notable skill, now. "A car" this thought Á. the seeing to draw near her/it. It didn't have human expression, it was a well oiled mechanism with a run to cover for seizing the prey. Very different from Isabelita, cruel and passionate; but as many unbearable. «You, small man» it repeated Tia, impassive now. To the a straccetto felt him thrown there and there you/he/she would perhaps have remained, if you/he/she had not seen an allarmatissima Eva Heinz that it was about to open the window. «No» it murmured Á. the «no, no no no.» He/she jumped standing as a rubber band and it dispersed him fast toward truncating the gesture of the friend on to be born. Tia was interdicted; that guy was turned by morituro to quick little hare into a second, its energies went and they came as the downpours of that days. Patience. It was as if an armed wagon put on in movement; close-up, slightly skidding on the fragile ground and impolpato, then with agility and energy increasing. Tia had departed to the pursuit of Á. the. At the same time the youth had disappeared among the trees and you/he/she was covering the brief journey that separated him/it from the roadway. He/she met an uncertain Isabelita of return from the place of the accident, where she was waited for to find the young one; the woman was referring the backtracking but without conviction. You looked around, assembling himself/herself/itself on the soft forms of the plants tilted by the weight of the water, perhaps the gattaro imagining himself/herself/itself crouched here or there, hopeful and trembling. To the it appeared her to the sudden one before, fast as you/he/she had never seen him, and the thing the takings in controtempo. It tightened the baton with more strength but Á. the passed her before without looking at her/it. You/he/she had taken a decision, the young one, and it gave within us to maintain her/it; it had otherwise there to leave from, in his/her good wish to lend assists him, Eva Heinz would have ended with to make himself/herself/themselves discover. And, with her, all the people that were in his/her house. To the it easily overcame Isabelita, it jumped the ditch and it found again him on the shiny asphalt. The two abandoned cars were a little more there in; the fetid ones had collided with him benino scattering a lot of plates on the asphalt. There were a deformed bumper, some piece of the red lucines of the anterior arrows, the hub-caps of a pair of wheels and other small and unrecognizable objects, certain of both the vehicles. The pursuing auto was inserted to fund in the luggage van of that of the priest, that had subìto an impressive and expensive damage but not functional. That of the Gomezes was able not to also succeed in leaving again, instead; the motor was found before and the front-axle assembly was obviously the most compromised part. While Á. the if of contemplative it ristava, Isabelita was arriving funnily caracollando. The rotten grass not the he suited, even if he/she wore a pair of comfortable shoes without heel. The youth hoped that it slipped but the Gomez was very careful, especially now that faced the alert one some channel against road. «Reia!» it howled Isabelita «unstuck from there, the gattaro arrives!» To the it drew near to the autos; in pocket it had the key of his, it felt the sharp forms of it on the fingertips. Where was Reia? Yes. The third sister is sat in the stolen auto, but you/he/she prepared him to go out of it. Also in the semi-obscurity Á. the saw that something in her didn't go; the accident, that had left the others two uninjured, on her you/he/she had had burdens effect. There was a long cut and a hematoma on the forehead, the already injured arm was abandoned along the side and the nose it dripped blood. The windscreen was not damaged, the woman in the bump owed to have struck the seats or qualcos'altro. It didn't seem entirely in itself, it stirred in way a little natural, jerky, but its facial expression was that usual: spiteful and icily hostile. To the it had to transit nearby her to reach his/her mean. It increased the walk, using the residue of energies that the solicitation adrenalinica had given him of a little before, and it was beside her while this was going down from the auto. Reia raised the head lifting himself/herself/itself from the seat of the passenger. It was out for half, with the healthy hand it grasped the inseparable wood club. For an instant the two looked him; then Á. the, surrendering to the taste of the paradox that always amused him/it, it threw him against the counter open with the whole weight of the body and the inactivity of the run. Reia if it didn't wait for him/it. For the third time. It was harshly stricken. In face from the car window, that cracked him; to the legs from the inferior edge of the shutter, that lacerated the meats of shin bones and ankles. The bones didn't break him, he/she wanted of it, but a pair of bruises would have appeared there also. To walk would have been her undesirable, of there to little. The woman reacted with a hot tempered bofonchio. To the it continued and it reached his/her car. It entered. It felt that the counter of the other auto he was opening again and he/she saw Isabelita that was on the road, a bit backer. They didn't stay him that few second. Tia arrived, also with his/her constant run from railway small truck. It was late, but it had the an opportunity everything his/her to make up for: it didn't slow down when it found the descent and the ditch, he allowed to go and it entered the water squirting as a cheerful dog. It went up again and it went out on the road but without. The auto of Á. the coughed slightly but it didn't depart; he kept the calm, it tried again. The motor took well the by, this time, Á. the used him on the accelerator trying separate to himself/herself/themselves from the other vehicle; the car scodò burdens and crocchiò then he wriggled here and there, and he/she the asphalt squeaking as an old hand grinds. The reunited fetid three stayed an instant to observe, to few meters of distance. Then they entered the stolen auto. «What you have done to the face?» he/she asked Reia to Tia, massaging himself/herself/itself the legs. It heard a pain of hell. Tia the skin of the face touched him. It still burned. «It is not your affar» it said Tia. «Of accord» it made Reia looking at the auto in escape «but that is mine.» Tia stared at his/her sister with evident disappointment. Turned on Isabelita the motor giving a glance to both. «It is of whom picks him/it up» it said. The discourse was closed. They departed. They were again in hunting. 27. To the it drove to the maximum speed allowed by the vehicle and by the wind. It was without a precise destination. An intolerable thing, for a maniac of the planning as you/he/she had been. It had to improvise. It was tired, it felt the posthumous ones of the run that had done for reaching the car avoiding the Gomezes. What would you/he/she have done, to that point? He/she didn't know him/it. The only thing that had a sense was to keep on escaping for giving time to the fellow citizens to recover himself/herself/themselves the country. You/he/she would not have gone on for very; the road continued for some other kilometer, then it began the line in slope that brought to go beyond the hills to crowning of the valley. The road however it ended first; there had been the collapse of the ridge, the asphalt was obstructed of rocks and rubble. The footstep could not be climbed over and to go down beyond in the lowland. The last occasion to have fortune Á. the had just wasted her; despite the evident damage to the plates, the vehicle of the fetid ones still worked. He/she saw the lighthouses of it - a dented mean, for the truth - that they whipped the asphalt creating from now on a continuous fall of lower case letters pluvius sparks for some meter. But the rain was thin, now; good for the Gomezes, that succeeded in following better it, but well also for him that it didn't have to suffer too much for the lack of the windscreen. To the it drove with particular attention without exaggerating in speed. You/he/she had realized that the other auto didn't force; there was no need immediately to catch him/it, Á. the was inserted halo in to blind alley everything and he/she knew him/it. Now the road started to gradually climb. They spent few minutes of almost calm guide. The suits of Á. the they were rotten and the hand dried the torch with to hand, for then to shake her/it from the droplets in rapid releases. Now the ascent was more evident. Dark was almost done complete of sudden. The lighthouses illuminated there only for few meters before. The first sod made their apparition on the asphalt, then some stones, and finally Á. the you have to slow down for avoiding to encounter himself/herself/themselves against shed pietrame of discreet dimensions. They were the layers of the landslide. It stopped the vehicle and at he looked around. The panorama was ghostly and stopped him to the light of the lighthouses. Few over only indistinct forms. The man had a motion of uncertainty, then you/he/she grabbed the arc and the quiver deposed on the seat to his/her side. The solo contact with the bent forms of the arc they did him/it feel better. You/he/she would ever have thought about turning those weapons against the people, in past. "The things change" he/she thought. You inserted both shoulder ones and descents in hurry in the incipient night; been said around another glance, then it extinguished the lighthouses and takings the street of the ridge, climbing. It did fresh. The auto had already disappeared in the dark. To the it walked following the inclination of the ground. The asphalt didn't feel him more, under its feet there was above all shifted soil. It had to pay attention to the big rocks that are rolled there since by the top of the high ground. He/she didn't see us big that, it went gropingly with the braccias in before, trying to follow an astute line and however always climbing himself/herself/itself along the slope. "If I don't see us I, don't see even them to us" he/she thought. It put only us one minute to retract him; the sound of a motor and then the auto of the women gradually, actually to illuminate the distorted features of that of the sacrestano. Their car stopped a little backer him and they went out from there three figures that they hacked against the lighthouses. Someone extracted an object from an ample pocket, the same they did then the others two, and three bright rays took to look through on the ground looking for traces. The Gomezes were better certain you organize some husbands. The lighthouses of their auto stayed I turned on, and this if nothing else said a small hand to Á. the; you/he/she could see us that I know much that was enough for understanding whether to go. After all it had a possibility; if he/she succeeded in going beyond the top of the hill and to come on the other side, you/he/she would be found on a woody slant where him would have been simpler to hide himself/herself/themselves. But soon you have to also retract him on this; it was too much tired. It reentered in his/her clinical picture, the facility to get tired himself/herself/themselves. And you/they had given him all the motives to feel himself/herself/themselves next to I exhaust him/it. It breathed to work, while the three viragos came him behind quick and definite footstep. It kept on walking stumbling a couple of times. To the it was found surrounded by big boulders, now; for earth there was not anything else other than stone, pebbles of all the dimensions. He didn't leave anybody trace, proceeding there, and this was a good; but it was damnedly also fatiguing and noisy to walk us on. When also the Gomezes reached the rubble they did a beautiful po' of noise for a moment, they cunningly stopped then him remaining in listening. To the it jammed instantly, but not enough in hurry. «Down there» one of the women said. Three tightened cones of light almost pursued Á. the striking him/it; the young one hid him behind to rock and he crouched. The Gomezes darted with the torches here and there, then they started over climbing almost aiming the lights in the correct direction. To the resumptions the scaling. It was an almost disloyal pursuit; Á. the had to go plain not to make himself/herself/themselves feel, while the women proceeded expeditious. The man you have to take action that to walk in the obscurity with the shoulder arc was not easy; it was occasion of I stumble and, besides, for how much reassuring element, was not certain to be able to use him/it. You/he/she had already killed - it considered the death of Place one guilt of his - and you/he/she would not have done again him. It threw the arc; then, in debt of oxygen, it climbed on a bigger rock of the others. He/she remained there, gasping, while the Gomezes drew near. It tried to take back the control; it slowly breathed, deeply, as an old teacher of yoga had taught him. It ignored the world around itself, he/she remained on the top of his/her rock with the quiver that pressed on his stomach. You/he/she would have had to also throw that, but he/she didn't take care of. He/she was immovable until it was not evident that the three women had arrived. The torches traced around arrows of light all, grazing aloft there also its feet. «You look» it said Isabelita. Taken in hand the abandoned arc to earth. It stared at him/it with contempt, it threw far then it toward valley. «Unarmed» it added «let's separate us. It has to be here.» Isabelita scarpinò toward the high ground, the others two rummaged around looking for nonexistent traces. They spent two minutes, then one of the women passed again under the hideaway of the young one. To the he maintained immovable while that transited under his feet grazing him/it with the beam of light. The woman disappeared; another pair of minutes and again a trapestìo there under: you/he/she was Isabelita. The torch also illuminated the unmistakable his/her polpaccionis. This time for Á. the was to greedy occasion too much; it was an emotional reaction, and he/she knew him/it, but you/he/she could not avoid him/it. It extracted an arrow from the quiver and him it allowed to fall to the ground really behind of her. Idea was to pick her/it up of surprise, but that turned him instead with such rapidity that Á. the, torpid as it was, it didn't have time to I give nothing. Rather it was fallen as, such a sack of potatoes that you/he/she had remained there, unarmed and horizontal, incapable to believe in his/her same cowardliness. However it was a good. The Gomez aimed the height torch man and didn't see anything, it twisted again then him in the other direction, thinking that the ears had communicated her the wrong coordinates. To the been received to sufficiency by to find the necessary spirit to insert the arrow in that chiappones firm with all the strength of which it was able. It penetrated, it pushed well in the meats. A tall cry swept the hills. Isabelita maintained the control of itself; it was held wipes away her and svirgolava the torch everywhere. To the era always to earth, invisible. It introduced to strength a second arrow in the other chiappa. The woman howled again, more from the anger that from the pain. It held his/her cudgel of well seasoned wood and the movements with passion here and there, until he/she didn't see Á. the. The man built staggering. «I have of it enough» it said then. It threw the quiver I set to Isabelita, then he also threw him. The woman if it didn't wait for him/it; it grasped the torch from a part and the baton from the other, it was not able to grab or to push nothing. The two fell to the ground, Á. the above and the wound under. This time Isabelita snarled as an animal touching the ground. The two arrows were broken, but with the weight of Á. the the points were pushed well in the meats scraping off her bone of the basin. To the he raised again claudicando, while the woman tried to throw him on, without a complaint. Yet it had to damnedly hurt her. To the it studied of sbieco the shaky figure close to him, it tried to position well him for, it almost prepared the leg and sferrò a kick without looking. The chin of the woman went off toward the sky. Isabelita was again to earth, and he didn't raise again. It breathed eyes plan closed. Aloft a scalpiccìo revealed that the others two were arriving; you/they had felt you howl him and you/they were converging toward Á. the. The youth was without strengths, but it had to leave from there. With the torch it almost individualized a clear of grassy path of stones; it took him/it and takings to cross the torch extinguishing him/it, the hands it stretched out to look for the obstacles. The first winds meters were easy, you/he/she had seen the run and you/he/she could risk him to proceed to the blind one. The two Gomezes arrived; they examined the body of his/her/their sister in silence, from true commandos professionals. Then they began to look for around; Á. the had to be near. In the meantime the youth still climbed the hill; it was protected from some dense vegetation, now you/he/she could relight the torch. With surprise he/she saw that the top of the high ground was to few footsteps from him; this the said new vigor, succeeded even in trotting some. But optimism immediately disappeared; it was yes the top of the hill, but it appeared also covered by a gigantic rock in impossible relief to climb: Á. the was indeed in to blind alley, you/he/she could not return back neither to go on. «Gattaro» it said a voice. To the he turned. To few footsteps there was already one of his/her muscular huntresses. After an instant it was tiled from the other energumena. Both played ball his/her own cudgel with satisfaction. Reia suffered from that gesture, you give the conditions of his/her arm, but it didn't hesitate to repeat him/it tant'era the feeling of power that gave her. To his era, at the end. The youth drew near to the great rock, the smooth and damp wall was set to. The two women slowly followed him/it. They scrutinized to story in an unusual, unexpected motion of uncertainty; with the look they disputed him the prey. To the it breathed plain, relaxed. It had her really made to race, but the strengths in field had been too much you learn. It leaned the nape against the rock, left half open the eyes. It attended the inevitable one. Then it assumed a doubtful expression and it reopened the eyes. Tia and Reia were nearby him, but he/she didn't take care of. You surrendered to a surprised expression, and after this been granted a sorrisetto just mentioned; been stretched on the wall with the whole body leaning an ear on the rock, while the Gomezes looked him without understanding. Finally, Á. the strabuzzò the eyes and it threw him to earth, the head covering himself/herself/itself with the braccias. «Of all the scurvy gestures.» it said one of the two. But you/he/she could not end the sentence: the wall of rock literally exploded projecting endless bullets in all the directions. The women were run over by a hail of great and small stones, they made back a leap to the of a pair of meters and they badly fell to the ground semisommerse. They remained so, conscious, alive, coughing in the dust cloud that followed. They were imprisoned; the rock in endless you shatter himself/herself/themselves you/he/she was hurled with such violence by to leave strong signs on the bodies: wounds as from knife, exposed fractures, that didn't lift complaints but a deaf frustrated anger. The eyes of the Gomezes looked around impotent, shinily, also now looking for the craved victim. To the you/he/she was saved by the worse throwing himself/herself/itself to earth, but you/he/she had also been the more neighbor to that sort of explosion. A pair of ugly hits you/he/she was taken to the ribs and the nape and you/he/she had confusedly been awake. Pain. The man moved the look from the Gomezes to the point from which was jumped away hardly. The rain polished up the air and you/he/she could see well. A part of the great rock had disappeared; to its place it appeared a slice of sky, and under this the tracks of the greatest bulldozer that you/he/she had ever seen. To the it tried to get up, but it felt him as drunk; it lay to earth covered with earth, pebbles and. qualcos'altro; À. the shone to the lighthouses of the bulldozer. Million of sparks revived its body as a blanket of small dusty stars, a magic sheet endowed with endless beads. The young movements plain the braccias and innumerable reflexes blinked sudden on the rotten suits. To the it shelled the eyes; it had to be a dream, and also no evil. He/she thought well about continuing him and lost knowledge. 28. The house was full of people; Á. the he gradually woke up with this awareness, even if it found again him in one of its upstairs beds. The room was silent and warm. A diffused buzz played again dabbasso with the delicate tones of whom doesn't want to disturb, but of done it breaks; Á. the opened plain the eyes, with to hostile expression on the torch burdens skinned. It was his/her room of the guests, it was certain of it; he felt dry, the nape pulsated, aching, and in the air there was a vague odor of disinfectant. You granted the whole necessary time to recover himself/herself/themselves. It slowly breathed without stirring, more tired than that that it was permissible to wait him. It still felt inside of itself the bites of the I dismay that it came from his/her own pathology. But it seemed him as diluted, watered by the sequence of events of real life that falls him I lately set. Did a jumble of images and memoirs attack him/it making him ripercorrere the facts of the last days; all that had happened that indeed it remembered? «Well. returned» someone said next to him with hoarse voice. To the, amazed, he threw some on leaning on the elbows. Ron is sat nearby on the bed, but its equilibrium was uncertain. It had an aspect as soon as more human, now; the swelling on the head had weakened and the look, shiny, it had a how more peaceful. You/he/she was looking at Á. the with worry and to vein of obstacle that the youth distractedly noticed and didn't even try to make sense of himself/herself/themselves. «To the.» it made Ron, also succeeding almost incomprehensible in that monosyllabic «À. the. The owe. to tell you to thing. before the bedlam involves here you under.» The young one interrupted him/it. It was pain to see to strive him/it him this way. «Give only me one minute, Ron. Make to make me local mind. And not to say other not to strive you. I am happy that you are better.» His/her own voice surprised him/it; it was querula how much that of Ron. «No.» it said Ron «. important. I won't be better. until The won'ts have told you him.» To the he/she sat on the bed stiracchiandosi. Then it got up and it went to take a seat to the feet of the bed of Ron. However, it was able of to stir; then it was not really that old catorcio that believed. Incidentally it noticed to have, I wear one of his/her pajamas. Who had stripped him? He/she didn't remember anything after the explosion on the hill. «Cries her/it» it made Á. the, gruff «if you don't want another blow in head.» «I would deserve her/it to me.» it murmured the friend «. my guilt.» To the it was bothered seeing how it suffered the friend; but Ron grabbed him strong the wrists to force to listen to him/it. «The disasters in the world. all lies. The have lied, À. the. in the world. everything well. The climate is ugly here, but. it will improve.» The young one looked at him/it without understanding. «What you say» Á. the insisted «straparli, Ron. You have taken a big hit, it is a miracle that you don't have the brain in it eats up. And allow to go me. I don't succeed in finding a point that doesn't hurt me.» Ron seemed not to have felt. You cleared the throat as an old man. «I have. lied» it confirmed stronger. «You have lied» it repeated Á. the, flatly. It was usually brisker than so, but this time the matter didn't return at all him. Ron had lied. Ripercorse the friend's words, those that you/they had remained him in head. The disasters. the climate. all lies. Ron had lied. Lied. You/he/she could not believe us. The world. then the world was not I know in the troubles. And therefore Delora was not even it. Then he illuminates of hit. «The bulldozer. It was real.» «Yes» it said Ron «it has. freed the road. Then the helps have come. Police. to physician.» «And the mayor? Has he lied also? You were together, to the radio.» Ron despite the pain smiled. «The radio. you/he/she has never worked. put in scenes. The mayor doesn't speak French. him needle pleasure is thought. The knews, from I know much.» To the it looked at him/it with a big desire to give a fist on his nose. You/he/she had lied. Ron had lied. To the it delayed, uncertain on as to pick her/it up. An enormous thing seemed him, and of certain man whether to also appear to Ron. «You have thought well her. Because?» he/she asked then. Ron the voice cleared again him; it seemed it made better it star, in to speak it suffered less. «You know him/it. The wanted the united country. to show that it is possible. For some. you/he/she has worked. If we stayed alone, only us. with our strengths.» «. we would have dark been solidalis» it finished À. the «good conceives. Holy Christ. You have been a crazy person Ron. You have instigated an uproar. You have been a crazy person. Of a beautiful madness, perhaps. I don't want to add other. Except that a big desire I would have to do you another bozzo in head, from the other side. This way, for taste of symmetry.» «I have. made to country house, The know him/it.» He/she didn't know indeed perhaps how much it was right; there had been a corpse and so many wounded. To the same you/he/she had afflicted and risked a beautiful po', for that lie. Don't speak of the worry of all for friends and distant relatives. Ron didn't seem him an insensitive person, everything other; it owed to have thought that this thing was important indeed to play her/it to him so, with all those implications. The youth was held the head among the hands; it fed a visceral desire to put again Ron to nanna with a well arranged hit, but it strove him to sustain himself/herself/themselves calm. Same Ron had subìto the consequences of the really operated, and it was an enough punishment. «The Gomezes.» it mentioned À. the. «The police. you/he/she has made plaza cleaning up. When the things. they macaws clarified. and I give you know the funny thing?» "Because, is there also a funny thing?" he/she thought Á. the. The whole matter had been extremely disagreeable for him. «The paramedics.» it continued Ron, the neck massaging himself/herself/itself «. to Gomez of city has sent them. he/she didn't succeed in contacting here his joined. you/he/she has broken the boxes until the authorities, that were already busy theirs with the maltempo. you/they have not paid him attention.» To the his smiled despite. There was a to knock discreet. «Physician» it said Ron looking at Á. the. «Now you are the good child and you close that mouth Ron. Rested» it ordered Á. the; then it fixed the door of entry. «Before!» The handle rotated and the door opened wide him of impetus. In room a young woman entered from the busy air. To the era been amazed by a lot of things in the last days, but that was the greatest surprise of everybody. The doctor was his/her wife Lori. 29. «Oh» it said Á. the, staring at his/her/their ex wife as it was to ghost. The woman looked in turn at it, with an expression between the ironic one and the irate one. «An enthusiastic regard, after this whole time» it made Lori. Ron, that he/she didn't evidently know anything of their mistakes, mentioned a regard, but then it considered us. The eyes of the physician were aimed at the friend in a way that made him desire not to attract the attention on itself. What was there among that two? «Ugh, as. you macaws?» it tried Á. the. It was the wrong question. For some reason it did her/it rage. «As I am. Me. Certain» it said sour Lori «line in your bed, Alejandro.» Ron jolted to the altisonanza of the name; later it had to remember himself/herself/themselves to take around some the friend. Now however he/she was immovable looking himself/herself/itself at the fingernails with great accuracy. To the, mogio mogio, got up and he put again under its covers. «So the physician you are you» it said Á. the, knows much to break the ice. And he/she knows God thick quant'era. «Obvious» it said Lori «and not by chance.» The woman extracted a thermometer from some part and inserted him/it in mouth to his/her/their husband. «I was in the hospital calm of it when the police calls me» you/he/she shot Lori with sourness «his/her husband, knows. we am sorry you/he/she. We have found his/her body for the roads of Delora.» «My documents, in pocket in Place.» it said À. the surprised one, chewing the thermometer. «It is' silent» it said Lori looking him/it bad «one idea of yours, eh? That idiots have not even thought about asking the confirmation someone of the place, on the identity of the dead body. My husband was dead. Do you have idea of as it feels it?» Ron was taken by an individual irripetibile impelled of discretion. «If you are not sorry.» it chewed. «Not now» it said Á. the. It missed us that it also participated in the discussion him; Ron had the temptation to get up and assentarsi politely, but the impulse had already passed. By now the thing it damnedly did him interesting. His/her respect for the privacy of Á. the was disappeared as of enchantment. And then Ron had of whether to calm down himself/herself/themselves; Lori, however furious, you/he/she had not even minded him. «Ugly stupid» it said Lori. «Be'.» it tried À. the. «It is' silent» it repeated Lori «it is not this the worse. It is not the damned trip to come here, the wounded and I bruised that you/they have given me some thread to twist. It is my job and nient'altro that. But then arrival down here and I not only discover that you are not dead; I also find this.» Lori got by of pocket an empty wrapping of the daily medicines of Á. the. The man had thrown her in the basket of the bath, he remembered very well. Alone way of living had softened its usual prudence. «Duloxetina» it said Lori «from when you pick her/it up?» To the attended some instant, but the eyes of Lori flashed. «A few years» he responded. «Years. Certain» the woman exclaimed «I knew him/it, too things are explained. Does E. work?» To the it bent the head. You felt as a child fished to dip the fingers in the jam of his/her/their mother. It was not able whether to admit the truth. «Yes, enough. It is to find the correct medicine wanted of it, however.» Lori took to cross the room to great footsteps. Then it, as always when his/her fury, from irascible and destructive, it was compacted in a halo of circumscribed fury. Lori fixed the young one with intensity, then it was as a film to the rallentatore; its muscles gradually relaxed him and the woman kept on stirring for inactivity. Ron appreciated the metamorphosis with satisfaction; the doctor knew how to magnificently have self-control himself/herself/themselves. Lori crossed the braccias setting from now on himself/herself/itself to Á. the. On his/her face there was no anger. Only pain. «You are sick. Neurological trouble. In what form. it is to see» he/she ascertained Lori bitterly, looking for earth «and The ams to physician. And I have never realized. of nothing. You/he/she must have been terrible for you to be nearby me and to fake well of star.» «No, Lori. Don't pick her/it up so.» À. the started. Lori he turned verse of him with a release; wound appeared and again raging, more with itself same that with his/her/their husband. «How I should pick her/it up? I am a doctor. that beautiful doctor!» "Stuff from crazy person" he/she thought Á. the" now it is his/her guilt if The ams behaved by bastard." «It belongs to the illness hide his/her own uneasiness» it said Lori «I am not a psychiatrist, but they are things, these, that you/they also know very well the profane.» Lori took back to get excited; it walked quicker, now. To the left half open the eyes. «You make me come the headache if you keep on moving you so» it said Á. the with decision «please, take to seat and behaved in reasonable way. Do you have him with me or no?» «Sure» it said Lori with a hard frown, sitting himself/herself/itself on the bed of Ron. «Well. Correct. It is my turn to recite the mea culpa, Lori, not to you.» The woman observed him/it with interrogative air. «I have read your writings. All» it nervously said Á. the. Lori blushed «I/you/they have been unforgivable. You have done well to free you of me.» Lori remained to look at Á. the with illegible expression. Then it grabbed the thermometer and it gave him a crooked glance. «No fever. If nothing else the respiratory apparatus it is to place.» Without a word Lori approached to the door and grabbed the handle. «There is the police, of under» it said, again calm «they want to do you some questions. I have held back them until I have been able, but I will now have to let them climb.» Lori went out without adding other. Ron did him small small on his/her pallet. This thing was better than the polpettonis that gave in TV. 30. The police officer entered the room without the typical spocchia of the detective in front of an acclaimed murderer. You introduced as you/he/she would have been an employee of a postal office; not low, but with a certain air of embarrassment that Á. the didn't succeed in understanding. Ron, that Á. the watched if nothing hilts for the air of funny fun that the friend didn't expensive take of him to conceal, you/he/she seemed burdens same conceives; you/he/she stared at the investigator of city with surprised air and impicciona. «Therefore, he is putting again» it said the police officer moving the weight of the body from a foot to the other. He/she wore a great too raincoat that covered him/it until above the neck and that it dripped on the wooden floor from the extremity of the surrounded one and from the angle of the lapel. To the it twisted the mouth, but it was said that it was not the case to take back the man for that mistake. «Already» it said Á. the wary one. «Because, it understands» sbottò of sudden the police officer, of which Á. the had already forgotten the name «there is this damned dead body of which to realize. Different wounded. Two furious guys that we have labored down to tirar from a tree.» Ron stared at Á. the with quite to lot interest; that boy was full of surprises. «. but above all.» it continued the investigator «these terrible three, unbearable women. Endless depositions. Fanciful, but partly likely, seen the circumstances. They didn't even want to be cured. Yet. scratches, fractures, bruises, abrasions, hematomas, piercing, lacerations, burns. The ams an amusement for the impassioned ones of forensic medicines.» Ron struck another expressive glance to Á. the. «They have him to died with her, it understands» it said the man a cheek rubbing himself/herself/itself with thoughtful air «but I/you/they have not succeeded in exactly understanding because. They are reticent, on this point.» To the it tightened him in the shoulders. «I would not know neanch'io» it said the young one. «I can do of the. hypothesis» Ron joined in conversation, trying to express him in way intellegibile «perhaps it is to whole matter of cats. They wanted his. to all the costs. Ric is a big beautiful cat, he doesn't discuss.» The police officer quadrated him/it with hard air but Ron he didn't decompose. The officer suspected that that picked around it up, but Ron had a harmless air, it was badly, and so it allowed to lose; it was evident that in that country the eccentric ones abounded. Beginning from the local colleague, that Pablos. Difficulty to find an incompetent of peer invoice, in the city body of police. «I would be tried to send every thing to the devil» taken back the man «it is evident that here a lot of things are happened. I have picked up about ten other depositions. Those three. gentleman, seems that deserves every single bruising according to your fellow townspersons. The fact remains that the wounds of arrow are wasted, and that she is the only one, here around, that knows to use the arc. We have found a well kept of it in his/her capanno. And another abandoned for the countries.» To the it tightened again him in the shoulders. The police officer had his/her signs; evident, certain, but you/he/she didn't seem to his/her ease however. Something didn't return him, and Á. the had the impression that would have done better to avoid to clarify too much the matter. «But it would not be even the matter of the arrows» it objected the investigator. «It is this dead body, that gives boredom. with The wears the suits of À. the. And there are the accusations of the Gomezes» it suggested Ron, to work, cautiously. He/she didn't want really to be him of it silent. The police officer had an indication of bother towards the merchant, but Ron had said correct. The man he allowed to escape a gesture of approval toward of him, keeping on looking at Á. the with resentful expression. «I will frankly tell her» it said the police officer «what I have tried to insert her/it for this homicide. It is not easy, I know how these things go to the countries of province. People are reluctant, you/he/she protects him to story. It opposes the foreigners. But here. The have never found I know much difficulty to develop the investigations. I should arrest all of you!» «Reticence?» it tried Á. the. «More. Does tell me; where it was found before appearing on that roof of the church to defend the fellow townspersons?» To the it shook; that he remembered, on the roof had not been climbed for defending others that itself same and sforacchiare some Gomez to it needs her/it. «To my house» it quickly said Ron «we have eaten and drunk the whole time. There has been then that noise in plaza. He/she knows, the Gomezes that you/they, a lot of bruised.» «Indeed?» it was a police officer with colorless voice. It extracted a notebook from the pocket, full of clipboard lined of bad grace. You said a distracted look, returned then to stare at Á. the. «Therefore we are to ottantaquattro,» it said «it seems that her, Alejandro, has consumed ottantaquattro abundant meals, guest of as many experienced cooks. Someone has also described me the courses. No evil. The dead body is become such little time before the facts of plaza, according to the scientific one. Therefore you/he/she cannot have to do with her, that has been so busy to smascellarsi together with his/her fellow townspersons.» «There is who worries about to have a rag of alibi» it said Ron, striving himself/herself/itself to smile «and you, Á. the, has ottantaquattro of it.» To that point Á. the imagined that the police officer would have ache reacted to this wisecrack. But you/he/she was underestimating the acumen of Ron. The investigator fixed with attention the storekeeper, that reciprocated with an expression of extreme purity. Both smiled. To the it breathed a light sigh of relief. Until then you/he/she had not understood the spirit of that questioning. Such, a soliloquy seemed him, a mediocrity lamentation professional of the crime. Thinking well of us any serious police officer would have questioned him in presence of Ron, giving the opportunity to furnish his nth alibi strampalato to the friend. «Since she has so extraordinarily been busy, the homicide appears unlikely» it said the police officer, again serious «there is that rifle that we have recovered the weapon that has disfigured that poverettos. But the scene is compatible with an accident. On the weapon there are not that the victim's imprints. And, I have to say, while she was among the angels I have made her the test of the paraffin glove. Nothing. You are an expert of arcs. Nient'altro. The matter is closed here.» The police officer handed the hand to Á. the and tightened her/it with energy; then you/he/she did the same with Ron and you/he/she quickly went out, closing behind the door of itself. «You/he/she has been all right, it seems me» it said Ron. «Already» it said Á. the. Something of that meeting didn't return him, but it interested him less that little. Another eccentric element of that days, to put back in saccoccia and to forget. Ron tightened him in the shoulders. «They are frustrated, these guardians of the order of city. You/they have picked worse her up of that that it seems. Delora has done their a scherzetto that you/they have not appreciated at all. But. you/they cannot make her/it against to whole country. After all they even want. They are smart people and they know how to recognize the bad ones. Even if, they tell me, with the arrows that you have put him in body Place it had to seem a porcupine.» «I have thrown only to the legs and the feet.» «Quite a lot times» it said Ron. «Already.» Someone knocked in impetuous way and without waiting for answer it hastily entered. A crown of Argentinian hair appeared from the door and fell him in the room. The mayor fixed for an instant Ron, not without hardness, then you/he/she turned him to Á. the ignoring the storekeeper. To the it was not able whether to understand him/it; Ron had deceived him, as you/he/she had done with all the others. But you/he/she had also made him/it ridiculous in front of the whole country. The mayor had been unintentional accomplice of his/her lie, but in certain way guiltily: you/he/she had sinned of pride and arrogance. The man observed Á. the with great attention. Now that turned the shoulders to Ron, an expression of joy he/she took the place of the initial uneasiness. «Only an instant, Á. the» it murmured «that doctor watches the room as to warder strapagato. A true cerbero.» «Mayor» it said Á. the «as it is right. It is a terrible woman.» The elderly one looked around him vigilant and furtive as a ferret. «I see that you are better. Me ago pleasure. In the name of all. thanks.» «Be'.» «No, indeed. We have of whether to celebrate. And not only for the Gomezes. Delora has returned free, certain, but it is also richer.» To the it looked at him/it with interrogative air. «Gold, Á. the» it said the mayor, triumphant «the gold of the first geologists. They died before telling us where it was, but there is indeed. It is an unusual vein a tall band that almost races on the tops of the hills side north. Igneous rocks, understand. Gold and silver together, in the heart of the boulder. It was inarrivabile before the landslide. For this no alluvial gold, in the river you/he/she could not arrive. And then, the Delora transversally transits in the valley, not really void dilava.» «Gold and silver» it repeated Á. the. Ron had remained to open mouth. «It was true, then» it murmured Á. the «it was not to dream.» He/she thought to when its body glowed to the light of the bulldozer. The dust cloud of the explosion, the smokes and fallen pebbles on him. It had to damnedly be a rich seam to succeed in making to be resplendent him/it to that way. «It is true» it said the mayor «gold. We will do good use of it. It belongs to Delora, it is everything terrestrial demaniale. We will finally build those things of which Delora has need. Those things that.» «. Ron has always supported» concluded for him À. the. The mayor nodded with strength, embarrassed that Á. the quoted the friend verse which fed misunderstanding. «Also those» it said the elderly one «but for first thing we will put in safety the river. Then we will redraw the road and the line of the hills. We will extract, but without defacing.» A sound to the outside of the room put in alarm the mayor, that worried him. "That devil has made him Lori to make to worry him/it so?" he/she thought Á. the. «I have to go, now. I wanted only that knew» it said the mayor; the man opened the door and disappeared in an instant. To the it looked at Ron, had a good time. «The gold and Lori have put him quite a lot in nervousness» it said. Ron nodded smiling. «It has him with you» it added Á. the. Ron mentioned an afflicted grimace. «Yes. I don't give him blame. But. we have been knowing each other for I know many years. It will pass him. It is a good friend.» «Yes» he/she simply affirmed Á. the. A sense of tiredness suddenly pervaded him/it. Too things, all together. Lori, the Gomezes, the police and the gold. The open illness, the lie of Ron and the death of Place. Too things with which to make the accounts. You stretched for well on the bed, relaxing himself/herself/itself. Ron looked at him/it with curiosity. It didn't have intention to make to fall asleep again him/it, not yet. There was something of pendant and he/she wanted to know how you/he/she would have gone to end. «Well» it said Ron, inducing Á. the to reopen the eyes «with the police, closed matter. but that you will I give with the doctor? It seems. rather smart.» «And rather angry.» «Indeed? Perhaps. O. only grieved even.» «My guilt. Better for her that I/you/he/she return to his/her city» it said Á. the. «Yes?» «Yes.» To the he/she didn't want to speak of it; Lori had appeared of sudden, and he didn't know yet whether to react. It was delicious, as always, but Á. the didn't I give well her. You/he/she had never seen irritated Lori or been sorry with anybody, except that with him. «It doesn't stay you that to convince her/it, then» concluded Ron. To the laughed without joy. «There is few to convince. Lori will depart not as soon as possible.» «He/she knows me that you are not very up-to-date. Lori will depart, but Delora needs a physician, as small as is. Lori is good and you/he/she has shown him. People have talked to the mayor and him you/he/she has talked to Lori.» To the it turned him to look at the friend with the left half open eyes. What did you/they try to combine him? Smiled Ron him seraphic. It had a destroyed air, you/he/she was speaking too much and its throat burned, but the thing seemed to press indeed him. «There is an accord, I believe. Lori will still work in the hospital, in the city. but three times the week will as to its clinic of Delora.» You/they could not do him this. Lori had to be away from him, it was for his/her his/her own good. Possible that his/her wife didn't succeed in understanding him/it after the way according to which you/he/she had treated her yet? «Ron, appreciates yours.» «Aaah, is now' silent you, Á. the» Ron exclaimed «when to woman. it abuses yourself with the expression that The have seen on the torch of your wife, it doesn't stay you whether to undergo to his/her decisions. What a devil. you/he/she Khan as only burdens good. And then, he is madly in love with your cat. When it has an instant of time, it is there always to make him little darlings.» To the the chin was scratched producing a rasp noise. The beard was always grown him in hurry. This way, Lori had returned. In spite of the past and of himself. You/he/she would have had to get further her/it, but by now he/she knew. Was there badly then something of, to make himself/herself/themselves help? Did this certainly, injure his/her image of strong and independent man, but what kind of man was it one who could have a woman as Lori and it rejected her/it? And, finally, that capsulina. finally after years you/he/she had found the expensive correct, that that made him/it rather normal without preciously eliminating what of odd it was inside of him. You/he/she could give to Lori without faking to be well, because you/he/she would have been indeed it. Not immediately, certain; the interruption of the care had given him a recrudescence of the shiver, its body he/she didn't answer granché. But now that the situation had returned to regulate, with a few days of respite and the resumption of the care you/he/she would have returned to place. And there was also another aspect; Á. the was not pathologically anymore the busy hand with his/her job social climber. Delora had softened him/it, you/they had returned inside of him aspirations and values which you/he/she had abdicated the beginning of his/her journalistic career. Those that Lori also appreciated, that had done him/it to him to love. There was an infinity of true books to write; you/he/she would not have been easy, but you/he/she would have tried. Arduous to free himself/herself/themselves of Lori, however. Ron was right; now that had waked up again his/her tutelar spirit of woman and physician she would not have granted him way out. Neither he felt as the need to look for her. Ron was looking at him/it mischievous. The friend knew her/it long; he read him in face the to alternate himself/herself/themselves some thoughts, his/her internal conflicts. «You won't raise her/it to you from the feet, this time» concluded Ron. The storekeeper laid down him, exhausted; you/he/she leaned the head on the pillow, intensely staring at him/it. To the it reciprocated the look and it mentioned a pale smile. The head and the ribs ached, but it were from not too long stuff. The struggle was ended indeed. «Be'» it declared Á. the, relaxing himself/herself/itself on the bed as if you/he/she had taken to decision «thanks. I will see to do me of it a reason.»