The legacy Read online

  Once again the voice seemed far away to Bob, but this time as one that reminds us of a dream from which we do not want break away. There seems to be able to stay if we work hard, if we pretend not to hear that call, but eventually the dream is gone, and we have our eyes open. What the professor was not a wonderful dream, but the worst of nightmares, so easily gave up and looked away. The tears, however, did not cease.

  "Simona" he managed to say before bursting into a fit of sobs.

  The young man waited patiently. In the meantime, had also approached the two women, to which was added a man of forty who had parked his car next to the two already parked. The truck with the pigs had already passed away and other carloads of curious people. An elderly lady Cadiceto, Roberto and Simona knew only by sight, went next door to the street on his bike, weighed down by a bulky shopping bag, and let out a "Holy God!" before stopping to browse in turn. There was nothing to fill all the summer nights with her friends to talk. In the distance continued to play the horns of those who still could not see the scene.

  But for Robert it was a different world. He recovered from crying and continued: "It was ... It was my wife. "Then the tears started again more abundant than before and he was forced to bring their fists in his eyes. Then even that was enough and fell forward, face down, to pour out his grief on the dry grass.

  "I'm sorry," said one woman, one that from a distance had seemed in shock. It was so. "I was passing here ten minutes ago and I saw these signs blacks on the ground. There I saw them this morning going to work and even when I came back for lunch, so I hit. I glanced toward the ditch and ... "He shook his head as if he could not put into words what going on in my head. "It was a tremendous show and tell her that I can understand if you ..." But, after the blue words "terrible spectacle", Roberto had burst into tears even more desperate.

  The young woman stopped raising an open hand towards her. He gave her a dirty look. Stop admonished those eyes. I see very well saying that his wife was reduced to a heap of mangled flesh, without notice and make him remember him! "We have already called the ambulance and police," but informed aloud. "They will arrive soon."

  Police , he thought Roberto between sobs. This was the case to call them. Yes, definitely.

  ***

  When, with greater clarity, Roberto would have tried to remember the events that followed, it would not be able to catalog them in chronological order, or to link them with a thread of some logical consequentiality. Thinking about those times would be like turning the pages of an album of photographs taken in the same vacation: oh yes, here we were at the beach, but here in front of the hotel, oh my God, this is me dressed as a Hawaiian!

  The only division that would have been able to make was between what had happened immediately after the tragic discovery and what was in the days following. First, an endless succession of events in the space of a few hours, then dropping a few phone calls that came down to talk with Matthew and some sad or Cristina or with a few other people had asked him questions and trying to console him.

  And the rhythm became more bland, more Roberto felt approaching a monster awful and unimaginable until a few days before. A monster who never believed he could reach him, who had lived just trying to keep him away. A monster, however, was forced to discover, it was kept at a distance far from excessive, - free - was avventando on his new victim as a dark shadow of pain and death.

  It was the monster of loneliness.

  ***

  He remembered having heard the first sirens that overlooked the horns of impatient motorists just minutes after the words of the young man who said he had called emergency but, in the state that was the time revealed itself in all its relativity and for all I knew could be two hours well spent. Lying on the floor with his face pressed against the hands and sunk in the dry grass, he heard someone, a woman, say they are! and someone else, a man, Let the space and many other voices commenting on the scene with unnecessary expletives, or invocations to God and all the Saints.

  Remembered thinking why, why, Lord? Because to us? Perhaps we were proud to think that a family or almost perfect? No, I do not think! I do not think, sir, that you did die soon also the father of Simona and even my father, who was not at all proud, and I gave everything he could, all he had earned in a lifetime of work. I think you've been envious of his generosity and why did you die with that lung cancer, even though he had never even picked up a cigarette. And now I think Simona is taken for the same reason. She was too beautiful, beautiful inside, leave it here for another few years, right? You are too powerful to miss their prey so delicious. Why leave it to me, for that matter? A miserable professor who loved her as his own life, if not more. They are too little, right? They are nothing too! And is that why you're killing me, too?

  He remembered the sirens, so close it hurt the ears, and a voice shouted: "Stand back, please. Move away and let us work. And you, please, resume the march, cleared the roadway. " He had a very pronounced southern accent, but in that time Roberto did not understand what the region was more than had ever been able to comprehend the infinity of the universe. Neither wanted. Another man, surely another of policemen arrived on the scene, collected the first evidence of the woman who had found Simon. "Then she tells me she did not see the incident but found the car later?" Asked, this time without any inflection in his voice.

  "Yes. I arrived and saw those signs and ... "she answered.

  "Well, well, the rest I understand. I just wanted to know if she witnessed the accident "he interrupted her.

  "Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please! ", The policeman began again with the southern accent, probably the one responsible for restoring the normal flow of traffic. "Get away, there's nothing to see. Vacate, please! Evacuate! "

  He remembered robust arms around him from behind and finally rialzavano ground. He was not trying to help his rescuer, but he was dead weight, all the muscles relaxed, his head bent forward and eyes closed. The tears continued to flow incessantly and rolled down her cheeks, scratched at some points from branches that were in the grass.

  "Please, sir, I can not do. We're trying to help, "said the man behind him. He opened his eyes for a moment and saw two hands clasped on his chest that flowed from two fluorescent orange sleeves, then closed them again. He felt a bit like a child 'cresciutello the arms of his mother but not the idea aroused no laughter. You've got the ambulance? thought. I had not noticed. I have not heard the sirens and ... Yes you did hear that, because ...

  He remembered the policeman who abandoned her Southern courtesy made ​​to please and please and started to cry addressed to some motorists.

  "Holy Mary, but we want to avoid! Let the ambulance pass and go! Next! NEXT. "

  And the ambulance sirens were also close enough to split the eardrums, but all of a sudden were extinguished. He felt one or two doors that opened, other men shouting Leave space! Leave space!

  "I do not think there is much left to do," the officer announced in no uncertain terms no inflection in his voice. "We called the fire department to remove the body. Take care of that man ... of her husband. "

  He recalled two other arms that took him for help the first responder. Ambulance took him to sit inside but he thought he wanted to stuff it with drugs to calm and lull it to sleep and Simona seppellirgli before he could see her one last time.

  "No, let me! Let me, "cried loudly, her voice broken by tears and struggling like a madman while putting a strain on the great strength of the men who supported it. Opened for a moment more red eyes and saw about fifty people, that his eyes appeared watery as the double, clustered around the point where he had crashed the car Simona. Someone looked intrigued, others shook their heads commenting on each other, others were expelled from southern policeman - or at least thought it was that. Before him was the self-Medical with its blue light flashing silent. Just beyond, the police car. And a lot fewer cars on the road than before. What time is it? wondered. How much time has passed?

  Be remembered lying on a st
retcher inside the ambulance, with tears that slid toward the ears, mixed with sweat. 's thought. At this serves to be optimistic! The greatest suffering is manifested when the reality for what it is. If I had believed from the beginning to the words of my mother, to those he was saying before I stop going, I might have already been prepared. Okay, I would never be completely ready for such a discovery, but it was not even a complete surprise.

  He recalled that the needle penetrated the vein of the arm. He felt the slight sting and resume to squirm, trying out a sense of shame and helplessness for having been fooled by the rescuers: the were asleep as he had feared and never ever would see Simon. At least not consciously. But he could not make any movement: the bastards had tied up like a sausage. He cried, turning all his despair in one direction and a new monstrous, uncontrollable crying. But his cry was not done yet that was already dominated by other sirens, the fire brigade who came to liberate the remnants of the body of Simon. And Roberto, feeling the first symptoms of drowsiness that the medication induced, opened his eyes just in time to see the two men in uniform fluorescent orange carrying out an iron chest. The new bed Simona thought, without really wanting do.

  Then he slept.

  ***

  When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a white ceiling, which was a bit 'too high to be his bedroom. It took a few moments because the idea that that would be to dissolve, giving way to remember and subsequent understanding. He lowered his eyes again, feeling swollen eyes, and forced herself not to take into tears. He found the effort too as he had thought and thought they could have helped other sedatives that were administered during sleep.

  Was in the hospital. They had brought him there because he was in shock and had to keep it under control before it decides to commit suicide or drowning in her own tears or lose the reason.

  Simon was dead.

  Died in a cruel way.

  That was the truth, not the dream he had while he slept, where he and she went dancing in a club that had never been, while hundreds of people around them applauded. That was a dream. The reality was a nightmare.

  He opened his eyes. He tried to move and found that we could seamlessly. He sat on the bed and looked around. He was in a small room that was probably reserved for people like him or those who had sudden worsening after bad news on the conditions of a family: that there were only bed and a wardrobe with sliding doors of iron, the kind that even in high school were present in each class. The room was so small that you felt lack of oxygen, as if the walls were about to squeeze more and more, up to choke him.

  The bed was one of those that were used for medical visits, covered with gray-blue skin and a layer of paper, to cover the surface hygienically. Roberto looked at the clothes and found green grass stains on jeans at the knees. He also noticed the tiny red hole in the crook of his left arm, where he had inserted the first needle puncture. He had only a vague memory of that moment: she was crying as he had never done in life and he felt that he would never stop, and they were tears of sorrow, but also of anger. Of those sentiments remained very little, as the halo of an annoying stain on a white shirt. Also in the sedatives had to have played a key role. And it was not bad after all: why reject a moment of tranquility when the day is coming prospettavano as the worst possible in the life of a man?

  He put a hand to his forehead, rubbed his temples and felt terribly tired. Perhaps it was because he had just woken up, perhaps the reaction of his body to great pain was fatigue worthy of an entire marathon. He moved his hand through his hair and smoothed them, finding them dirty and sweaty. It was worse than a small rag, it smelled as if not washed for days and especially did not care a damn. Had it been for him would stop brushing for eternity, if only he had been told that Simon was still alive. Nothing could come close in importance to her. And she was gone.

  He looked at his watch and saw that it was missing a quarter to four. Two hours thought. Two hours ago I left home with very little hope. Two hours ago I saw the man in the Mercedes who swore the world. and two hours earlier he had watched the show the most gruesome of its existence. He thought the secretary of the school and what he should have thought of seeing him back nor after fifteen minutes or an hour or two after. Not to mention the other professors who were waiting for the polls. Who knows how many bad words had turned!

  "'Fuck!' Cried at the thought, feeling his mouth and tongue kneaded asleep.

  "Oh, you are awakened," said a young woman's voice from the corridor on which faced the door of the room. Roberto was the sound of a chair that was moved and thought what a strange effect would have had his expletive sull'infermiera who was awaiting his awakening. He was almost inclined to laugh. Almost.

  The nurse entered the room with a serious expression. He could not have more than thirty years and it was quite nice, it was not for a big if right just below the cheekbone. It seemed made to be a nurse: the tunic and white trousers donated the lot, as a frame to fit a picture of a certain value. A picture with a nasty stain in the wrong but still nice.

  "How are you?" He asked gently. His voice was soft, and on other occasions Robert would also find it sensual. What I did not fail to note, however, was that the doctors had saved the best for he had been at other times at the hospital - the cancer of her father, especially - and had never found nurses especially kind and nice. That seemed an exception.

  'A bit' ... dazed, "said Robert without thinking. "In pieces" he added, this time saying what he really explained everything. He looked down again and felt the tears that were trying to make headway. He managed to keep them staring at the white sandals were the chief nurse as high fashion best that had ever been produced.

  The nurse sighed and his eyes seemed to glisten. "The doctor gave her pain killers and told me to let it rest. I advise it, if I may ... "

  "Where is my wife?" I asked with a tone that surprised even himself, without pain, without malice. Just out of curiosity. The hope had left hours before, when he had already seen the young man shook his head at the edge of the ditch and he was left in place only for the resignation. That was not for the initial stage, of course, and largely supported by the usual soothing.

  "Well, his wife is ..." He was obviously embarrassed. Perhaps they had not informed that he had had time to see , thought Robert.

  "I think I could give you all the explanations he seeks, Professor Santoni" said a doctor to help him at that moment entering the room. He was a distinguished man, who under the gown she wore a red tie on a pale blue shirt. He wore a pair of goggles from the hype that made ​​him look like a perfect doctor. Dr. Michelini Caesar , was written next to his picture on the tag that hung in the pocket.

  "If you feel able to follow me, I would take her in my studio where I can explain everything."

  "Of course I can," said Roberto, without bothering to do this. "Let's go."

  ***

  The study of Dr. Michelini was a room not much bigger than that in which he was awakened Roberto. Leaning against the wall with one side was a small desk with a computer and some piles of papers and folders. On a nearby cabinet had backed a laser printer connected to your computer. The opposite wall was covered almost entirely by a library with shelves filled by large bound volumes. A small window overlooking the courtyard of the hospital assured enlightenment.

  On one of the two chairs facing the desk sat a policeman very robust. As soon as Roberto and the doctor came in, stood up and took off his hat. "Marshal Mortini, good morning" showed up, reaching for the professor.

  "Professor Santoni," he said, that in a certain way it was expected to not only have to talk with the doctor. "A pleasure," he added, realizing too late that the place sounded out the word: what the heck, was not making a new acquaintance at the bar!

  He took the hand of Marshal and squeezed with all the strength he had left the drugs in his muscles numb. The policeman was taken of the firm. Roberto felt such a sense of déjà vu, and suddenly realized that this must be the same person who recorded the tes
timony of the woman at the accident site. The one without accents in his voice.

  "Sit also" urged the doctor, taking place in turn in the chair in leather by the high side of the desk. His voice was hushed, as well as what was thought of Marshal, and Robert was grateful to them because how could they showed their displeasure. They were much more so if they said "sympathy." "I hope it gets too hot in here." The doctor had locked the door but the room was cooled by the air from a nozzle on the wall.

  "We feel we have not too," said the marshal, in view of the uniform he wore, the heat had to deal with it daily.

  "Anyway, I'm fine," added Roberto, who continued to feel light and calm as if he had one drink too many. But it was a lightness and tranquility as thin as a veil that covered something much bigger and ready to rip at any moment. "As regards the temperature, I mean." She looked down as if to emphasize that as regards the rest was a million miles away from feeling good.

  "Well," began the doctor, folding his hands on his desk and guardandosele while turning over the thumbs. He had to begin his speech and, as had happened many times before, he felt as if he were the cause of what had happened. As if death was not understandable to the family of the deceased before he came to announce it as an unquestioned fact, transformed himself into that old skeleton with a scythe in his hands. Reflections that they had never touched when still at university. "I think she already knows that the conditions of his wife left no hope for the possibility that ... in short, that ... "

  "What survives" Robert came to him, nodding. It seemed incredible to be able to intervene in that speech as if he was giving his opinion on the action's goal in the match. Incredible do it without shedding a tear, not even feel the urge. "No, I ... I saw and did not seem right that any doctor could do something. " Maybe Jesus was about to add, but still had enough rationality to be able to stop those words suggested by the torpor that had invested the mind.

  "Yes, the situation was desperate, definitely." The doctor adjusted his glasses, which had fallen on the tip of the nose. "And his wife has done it, as you well know. We have only been able to verify that this death. He had a lot of internal bleeding and multiple fractures. At least two of the ribs have punctured lungs. The crash has thrown against the windshield, causing a deep head injury. "He paused, still looking at his hands clasped. Robert believed that he was considering whether to add other details, such as mashed eye cast on the cheek or the tongue hanging out on bloodied face. "If somehow it can be of any help, I can assure you that his wife was killed instantly. At about 0:30, ie an hour before he was found. "