"Yes," he said. She pulled up the nose. "And this is my dad," she added, turning to Daniel.
"Nice to meet you" Roberto greeted him, offering him her hand. Matthias looked as if clutching a gun. "It's the first time we meet."
"A pleasure," replied the boy, shaking his hand. His grip was firm and strong shock, which confirmed his impression that Roberto Daniele was anything but embarrassed, as often happened. He had been uncomfortable in the first occasions on which he met the parents of Simon. "Yes, I came to your house three or four days ago, but she was not there. I regret that now ... "
"Yeah, I was in school," recalled Robert, a hint of a smile and leaving the hand of Daniel. "My wife told me about you." And for no good added mentally, recalling the night when Simon expressed his opposition to the relationship of Cristina. He had not indulged much more than that, knowing that at nineteen her daughter had every right to experience and take also of the crabs, if necessary. It was life.
"Oh, well," Daniel said, smiling. "It is ... It is a shame. I'm sorry for this tragedy. "She did not put to him all'occhiataccia Matthias or perhaps pretended not realizing it.
"Yeah," agreed Bob. "Yeah." And those words hung in the air, the silence of the church, which suddenly seemed to fall gloomy atmosphere. "Well, we go" said Roberto, noting that there was not much to say. "If you want to stay here, go ahead," said Cristina. "We will expect from his grandmother. But do not be late. "
"No, no, I'll be right. The greeting and arrival. "
"Sure, I'm going now," added Daniel. "Otherwise it's getting late. I ... "
"You have done much to please us all," interrupted Robert. "Thank you so much for coming. You're a good boy. "And he wondered how he managed to find it so unbearable Simona after seeing him on Friday afternoon.
"Oh, thanks," Daniel almost stammered, while next to him Cristina blushed even more.
But Matthias saw something else. He read in the eyes of the boy that went beyond a feeling of gratitude and emotion. He seemed to see a cheerfulness that was barely contained, as if Daniel was trying to restrain himself from bursting out laughing crazy. Matthew saw the same expression on his classmate Stephen, the bully of the moment, assumed when he taunted him. And once again he did not like.
"Well, come on," Roberto said goodbye. "Come, Matthias."
"See you in a while ', Dad," said Christina as she walked away. And in his eyes you could read a new emotion for the first time that day sad sincere love towards his father, who in a few words had given its approval to the story with Daniel, for which Simon had instead used only words of fire.
***
"Dad, I can tell you a secret?" Said Matthias when they were outside. Robert held her hand, which felt that the close was made stronger.
"Tell me, darling. Tell me everything, "he said, stopping and bending over to get his face to his height. He perceived in a particular shade and tone of voice was beginning to worry: he had not forgotten that Matthias was perhaps the most at risk of psychological fallout after the death of Simon.
For a while the boy seemed to have changed his mind. Actually was wondering if it was the right thing to tell Dad what he saw. It was almost certain not to be mistaken, but, after witnessing the demonstration of affection against Roberto Daniele, afraid to combine a mess. And to hurt Cristina, above.
For him to make a decision reached another mental image of her mother. Simon smiled, as only she could do. Then he approached and embraced him, squeezing tightly and filling it with kisses. She often did. And Matthew remembered the feeling when she kissed him on the ears, the loud crack and the thrill that ran along the back.
His mother was gone, no longer would have hugged and kissed. And in the evening when people prayed or thought to remember it, Daniel had had the courage to laugh. Amused . Matthias could not swallow a mouthful so bitter.
"I saw him laugh," he said tersely. He could not fix his father as he spoke.
"Who?" Asked Roberto worried. The laid her hands on her shoulders. "Who laughed?"
"The boyfriend of Christina," he said. "While the priest spoke, I turned and he was laughing." Without warning, tears began again to flow. "It's not just," she sobbed.
Robert was impressed. No one would ever expect such words from Matthew, not now. You thought your problems were very different, but apparently was not well versed in child psychology. "I ... do not know, "he said, looking around as if searching for the best explanation fits. "Maybe ..."
"No, I was not wrong, I did well," almost shrieked Matthias.
"Calm, calm, do not say this. Except that maybe it was a face or maybe you thought it was just a smile but ... I do not know. "It actually did not find any explanation, except that Matthew wanted to find a scapegoat, someone to download it after her sadness into anger. Not much different from what he had done himself few hours before, had to be convinced that the accident was caused by some careless pedestrian or cyclist. "Listen, if it was, nothing happens. So it's not married to Cristina! You'll see that it's not a nice guy she leaves him. "
"But I do not like," declared Matthew wiping his nose.
"Excellent," said Roberto. "But please try not to tell Cristina, okay, champ?" The ruffled hair and smiled. Matthew nodded and was a reassuring sign.
However, some of Roberto was already looking with some concern that Simon had done nothing but repeat for days that the boy did not like.
***
It was nearly twenty-three, when Robert, Matthew and Cristina returned home. They had stopped for half an hour at the home of Gisella, along with Isa and Olga. They had talked sadly, looking as possible to avoid the subject Simona, but ricadendoci punctually.
Above all, they had made a thousand efforts to wrest a single word, a single reaction Isa, without success. She sat motionless, blankly, absent, as if it were somewhere else, in quite different circumstances. Christina and Matthew, who always managed to make inroads into her heart, had tried to get her to talk, but even they had turned away from that its been almost plant. Eventually we were tired and had given up. Everyone was hoping that was a problem passenger, just enough time to metabolize the condolences.
When he was starting to get late, Roberto refused the invitation of his mother to stay overnight at his house. She had loaded her children into the car, his mother-in-law and Olga, and had accompanied the two women at home. Then they were rincasati, Matthias for the first time since that morning, when Simon had accompanied him to school. The memory made him cry again.
Before going to sleep, Roberto had called her children in the kitchen. The normalcy that prevailed in that, as in the rest of the house, unbearably out of tune with the fact that they were only three. But he had to pull themselves together and convince themselves not to let go: Simona was gone and he must also play its role. However, he was aware that their lives would never be the same.
"We are all tired," he began, not knowing exactly what he said. He knew only that it was necessary to speak, to see Matthew and Cristina that he was present and that they could always rely on their father. "It was a very bad day, the worst of our lives. Maybe tomorrow will be worse and maybe tomorrow will be even more, but we must be strong. "
Matthias looked at him with shining eyes, Cristina listened to him trying to restrain himself. His focus shifted from one part of the kitchen, creating thoughts similar to those of Robert.
"I am with you always, whenever you need, okay? But you also need help. We must help us, if we go forward. Because ... "He had to stop, because he started crying again. Everything continued to seem impossible. "Because my mother would like that."
He had fainted. He put a hand to his forehead and lost his balance. Christina ran towards him, but fortunately he had found a foothold in the back of a chair. "Papa," cried Mattia scared.
"It's okay," he said to pacify them but felt it was not at all true. Frames were running before the eyes of that day and he thought would tell a story lasting years. "We go to sleep. We try to sleep. And tomorrow we're going to vis
it his mother in the hospital. "
Christina opened her eyes and stepped back. "How?" He asked. She had not expected to have to look at the corpse of his mother, especially not believed to be able to.
"We will go to the hospital," agreed Bob. "And at the cost of endeavor, I'd say a last goodbye to her mother is due." Rarely had given orders to his sons, but the tone of his voice suggested that he was one of those occasions.
Cristina said no more, but remained shaken. Said good night and went slowly upstairs.
"And you, child?" Asked Robert to Mattia. "Do not go to sleep?"
"I miss my mother," she said candidly.
"Me too, man. So much. But she will sleep with us tonight. His soul will always be here. We must be happy, right? "
"A little '," said Matthias. Then he turned and reached his room. Robert watched him, wondering what they ever did to deserve that pain.
He could find no answer and after a few minutes left in the bedroom she had shared for twenty years with Simona. Sleep was very difficult: the bed seemed too empty. And he reflected on how long the mattress was likely to become in the emblem of the rest of his life: an empty life.
Eventually exhaustion prevailed and that terrible day was over.
***
During the night Robert saw something, but do not remember anything the next day.
***
The next day was that of phone calls and commitments. Roberto got up early, at seven, after a sleep anything but restful. He had slept badly and woke up with a sense of malaise that seemed to come only from the events of the afternoon before but something happened during the night. Sometimes he, at times, and comforted him by telling him that Simon had probably had a bad nightmare that you had forgotten. With that memory, it was as if she were still there.
Moving from room downstairs, half asleep, he felt sore, as if it were fresh from a bloody battle lasting a few days. He wished to clear your mind and heart, even for a few minutes, to restore his body, giving him a chance to really relax. But he knew that was impossible and that it was useless to waste time with vain hopes. He was still in the eye of the storm and had to be patient.
The first phone call, her voice still slurred by sleep, he was the secretary of the school. Roberto explained briefly his tragedy to the secretary, the more saddened that bored, which recorded without any participation by the news that Professor Santoni would be missing from school for a few days. "I shall tell, sir. Many condolences, "she said in the same tone with which he could show a guy what modules to fill the request for a scholarship.
After hanging up, Robert found perhaps a wise arranged. Very quietly, to avoid waking up Matthias and Christina, to prolong their dreams that he wished to be happy, went to the bathroom to wash. There was a shower the day before and feel clean again was an indescribable feeling, as if the water had taken it with him even more black layer of dirt, that's blocking the heart from the moment he saw the wrecked car of Simona.
After half an hour on the phone again. The previous evening, while handing over the hospital's clothes Simona, he was asked to appoint an agency to begin funeral practices. He had to use the list to find the telephone number of the one he had chosen. The thought that he was turning the pages looking for just that number was both painful and unreal. If you added that he needed it to Simon, then it became unbearable.
He finally found the address and was able to talk with a gentleman from doing gentle voice set the tone of polite people used to talk to people. And with people in despair, for more. They agreed on what to write on posters and Roberto felt a meager satisfaction when he learned that they would be posted already that morning, from there a few hours. He wanted everyone to know that as soon as a woman was missing an angel. And if the funeral had been attended by many people, that would be a wonderful gift for Simon, as well as he and his sons.
Before you close the phone, Roberto made an appointment for the choice of cash. At first it seemed a particularly irrelevant, almost disrespectful, as if in a situation like the real problem was to choose between a wood and another. Then came the realization that she could do that was so that he was traveling. And anyway, if you had the chance to avert his attention from the drama, it could not harm him.
The last call was to his mother, Gisella. He was not surprised to find her already awake, much less to hear it cry. She was cold and cynical at first, but under a hard shell struck a sensitive heart. A heart like that of Robert. He asked if he could come home and stay with the kids while he went to the funeral home. She obviously had no problems. In that moment of pain, the individual needs had ceased and all acted with a common purpose, in memory of Simon.
***
The owner of the funeral home, Cabrini, was a fine fellow, about forty, very high. He wore a pair of jeans and a light beige short-sleeved shirt, a dress that at first he wondered Roberto. It was created in the mind the figure of an "undertaker" ideal, low, hunched, looking grim and clothing strictly blacks, but evidently his fantasy was to adjourn. Modernize.
Mr. Cabrini had a way, had the touch. He spoke quietly and never more than necessary, made a few targeted questions and repeated them without losing it when Robert was distracted by trying the desire to cry. She showed him some coffins and described the features, but without dwelling too much and without getting caught by her tone from any vendor. He was very respectful of him and Roberto was deeply grateful.
When they had finished it was nearly nine. They sat at a desk in Mr. Cabrini and agreed terms of payment. Roberto tried to keep the attention, not so much afraid of being cheated, as to not make a fool of boiled fish. Not that it was unjustified, but he preferred not to force even the gentleman to repeat itself.
"So, we partiremmo hospital tomorrow around two?" Churches now.
Roberto was about to confirm, since the funeral was scheduled for three o'clock, when his attention was drawn to the shirt pocket of Cabrini. Suddenly it was illuminated with a light green glow.
Roberto was scared, then felt stupid, then he was seized with anxiety.
He was scared because his mind, felt the pain and fatigue and short of rationality, the flashed before his eyes the image of that distinguished and kind that was pierced by a huge pressure on the inside, caused by the same force that emanated that green light.
She felt stupid, a moment later, when the grim fantasy gave way to the obvious explanation. The light was caused by the display of a phone that was ringing and he probably Cabrini had removed the ring.
Finally he was seized with anxiety because the color reminded him of something. He could not explain what it was, nor when they had to do, but the feeling that it derived was unpleasant. It was like hearing a taste with the tongue and fail to associate it with anything, if not to his wickedness.
"Mr. Santoni?" He called Cabrini. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes," said Roberto recovering, but it was not true.
***
At half past nine Roberto went home. His mother had tidied the living room and kitchen, but had not canceled the message left by Simon on the slate. What he did on purpose or not, it was better that way.
The churches of the boys and Gisella responded that they were in their rooms to sleep. Roberto took note of it but he suspected that in reality they were now wide awake, in company with their nostalgic memories. He decided to leave them alone.
In the two hours that followed, the phone became hot. At first she said Gisella, who then passed the phone to Bob. When it became clear that the trend appeared, he sat in his chair, with the cordless phone next to her as a receptionist.
They called all their friends Torvinaia Cadiceto and, from those with whom they often went out to those who barely remembered to know. Many relatives of Parma Simon phoned to ask if it was true the tragic news. They said that he had learned from the newspapers or other relatives, and expressed their sympathy and their sorrow, because for a long time they had paid a visit to Simon when he was still alive. There were aunts who praised the beauty and in
telligence, others who could not make sense because that sentence was taken from tears, and others that inquired about how to get to the hospital or the church for the funeral. Then came the work colleagues of Simon, the day before we were surprised not to see her coming, she was always so punctual. He called a few high school teacher Roberto and some mother of Matthew's classmates.
So while the news spread through the voices and the posters hanging around, all those who had known Simon felt the need to give a sign to say a word. Someone did it to comfort Bob, someone else not to appear rude and disinterested, some because they had a guilty conscience against Simona and hoped this would purify it. Only a phone call differed from the others.
Roberto had given up hope of receiving reports from people on the scene and was resigned to the dynamics suggested by Marshal Mortini. A tragic fate, as was said on those occasions. Then came that phone call.
The small screen of the phone indicating that came from a number with the prefix of the province of Parma, 0521. Roberto surprised if they do not: they had already called several relatives of Simon with the same prefix. After all, she was raised in that city and its roots were still there. "Hello?" He said, expecting to get to know some new aunt.
On the other end of the phone, however, never got anything more than a sigh. It was enough to try to make Robert a thrill. There was a gasp, more like someone took the effort to breath to speak, but continually desist.
"Hello?" He asked again, raising his voice. "Who speaks?"
For a while the sighing continued. Then, just as Robert was adirando hung up and thought, through the handset came a female voice distant, faint, almost a moan. "I ... I have known it, "he said.
Roberto felt the sadness and anxiety in the tone of his voice and imagined this could be a relative very, very old. "Madam?" Asked, enunciating the word well, with the same attitude with which he addressed to his mother-in-law Isa. "Madam, you know Simon?"
On the other hand, another pause. New sigh, this time accompanied by a few hiccups. "Lei. .." spat out his voice, as if the word was more bitter than ever was given. "He killed that."
Roberto sprang to his feet. She felt something snap inside, an alarm, a reminder to all parts of his body to be careful. He squeezed harder without realizing it took the phone and talking in low voices. "Who?" He asked. "Who killed her? She has seen something? "