Bad Invisible Teachers Read online

  Chapter 7

  In an ample office, there were four postings of job. Three were empty, one no.

  It was the open space reserved to the informants of the Furnaces Pharmaceutics, and while the three senior they were in mission, Helen Sastri took confidence with the new subject.

  The investiture of the first day consisted in the welcome one of doctor Cesana, in the presentation of the present colleagues, therefore in the assignment of desk, laptop computer, telephone and switch for the macchinetta of the coffee.

  It was alone after the job, that true, rained her on the table: it got up towering in front of her a battery of documents, informative sheets, brochures, clinical studies of medicines both in commerce and in the street of experimentation. It was not busy other for that day that to read them everybody.

  But the massive structure you/he/she was digested with unusual slowness.

  Helen distractedly skimmed through still the first folders of a line of alimentary integrators for the pregnant ones, since prenatal and pediatric pharmacology was the specialty of the house.

  It observed the virtuous circle of a base iron medicine, that every good mother has to assume beginning from the fourth month, for itself, for the fetus and for his/her amniotic bagnetto. A chain of chemical reactions they explained the operation of the product, dense charts illustrated the results of it.

  And Helen didn't already bear her anymore. Times it studied her, it now neglected her; sorvolava the necessary datum and it realized to have to reread afresh.

  "Resumed, resumed". it suggested you to every distraction. And she didn't even succeed in understanding what in effects it distracted so much her. Or only he/she didn't want perhaps to understand him/it.

  A coffee.

  A classical of the fancazzismo, the break to the macchinetta, according to alone to the stroll in bath. Sinned that she had never been fancazzista.

  It got up from the chair, it pretended to put back the sheets that it held throwing them on the first found free space.

  You have only to go out of the office, to cross few meters of the corridor and an atrium opened to the comfort of the employees: there, a macchinetta multibevande didn't wait anything else other than the testing of the switch. With lightness, it inserted that that it owed and it crushed to fancy. Then attended.

  The plastic bicchierino lay on the support, coffee was gone out, the palettina in soak, sugar grew thick on the fund. And Helen still seemed not to realize of it.

  «You/he/she is waiting that I/you/he/she am cooled?»

  The voice sudden junta to its shoulders did her/it start. A deep, kind but definite voice.

  You turned of release.

  «You excuse me, I had not felt her arrive» it said embarrassed, even before to discover who the you/he/she was turned.

  A strong man and parish priest it observed her/it and it attended in silence. It was not for Helen an unknown presence: it had the certainty to have already seen inside the firm during the interviews him/it. That look, clear and severe as a sky of mountain, you/he/she had already sustained him/it.

  He/she didn't know who pits but it was as if he/she knew that, in a certain sense, the Furnaces Pharmaceutics passed from that man.

  «It doesn't have intention to use?»

  «Oh. Yes, naturally. The coffee.»

  Helen he felt stupid, perhaps for the first time in his/her life, but that presence disorientated her/it.

  It lifted the counter and takings the drink. It started to turn the liquid, and to blow for cooling him/it.

  «I/you had arrived before hardly, I would have been able to offer me. It will be for next time, doctor Sastri.»

  In to feel himself/herself/themselves to call for name, Helen you/he/she could not hide his/her own surprise.

  «We know each other?»

  «Not yet: I am Charles Pezzali, the manager of the laboratory of search.»

  The manager of the laboratory. The researchers' head. Would you/he/she have had to already know his/her name? And if you/he/she had already felt him/it, without succeeding in remembering when?

  «So much pleasure.» The hand tightened him. The doctor smiled at way similar to as Helen you/he/she had veduto so many proud teachers of her and he asked that sense could have. «I didn't imagine but the researchers they interested him in the assumptions of the informants.»

  «The researchers have to interest himself/herself/themselves in everything: if so it was not, the secret of the nature would stay I blocked forever.»

  Helen sipped his/her coffee, uncertain on the to make himself/herself/themselves: it was the first time, from what the age of the innocence had abandoned, that didn't succeed to understand what a man wanted from her.

  «I have started to appreciate your discoveries today.» It threw her on the professional flattery. «I have to say that you have developed a very creative approach, especially in the line of prenatal integrators.»

  «It doesn't deal with creativeness: an artist creates, a scientist discovers. Dopodiché, uses what you/he/she has discovered for the common property. Nothing of what the science has produced you/he/she can tell him invented.»

  The compliment had escaped from her hands and an offense had become almost. It seemed that Pezzali knew whether to drag the discourse and Helen, unaware and curious, it favored him/it.

  «You believe therefore that there am no artifice in our job?»

  «Me ago pleasure to feel to tell her" our": he/she wants to say that the scientist that is inside of her is still long live. But to answer her, would owe first to intend us on thing it means artifice. Us men we have a technological instinct that unites us to other animals. The beavers, don't do for example, anything else other than to fold up the resources of the nature to them benefit, modifying the courses of the waters to cut out him a proper habitat. In this sense, the whole science and the medicine with it, it is rich of artifice. But the science also has too many detractors, that persist him to contrast" artificial" to" natural." They paint the search as a monster that dares to climb over the natural laws. But to climb over is her impossible: all of this that is permitted to the man is because it is also permitted in kind. A ship built by the man floats for the same principles for which a tree divelto floats from a hurricane and fallen in water by chance. The science is the humble handmaid of the nature; and in how much such, it also has the duty to help to open wide her/it all of its endless potentialities.»

  Coffee was ended; the cup fell, for the inevitable natural laws, on the fund of the basket of the refusals.

  «The idea not to throw away anything, the idea that every leftover of nourishment able to fortify his/her mother competes to protect and to enrich the fetus: this is a creative approach to the laws of the nature. The nature is too often individualist and merciless. The man has the duty to improve her/it.»

  «The disinterested man can do him/it. The interested man often finds advantage to stick not so much to the laws of the nature, but to the idleness with which this evolves him. Or his/her mother or the fetus: this is the approach of the traditional medicine. We take care of his/her mother, then we take care of his/her child, so we eat twice. »

  «Today's fetus is tomorrow's man. And it is better to have him/it healthy that sick.»

  «You is wrong, unfortunately. Too often the medicine, conditioned by the pharmaceutical industry, it looks at the single patient and it loses sight the humanity. It is a perverse consequence of the logic of the profit: better a sick to be taken care of today that a healthy man tomorrow. Ahead to us there is an unexplored sea, whose Argonauts will be our progeny. Me, when I make search, I look above all at them.»

  It was true, fearfully true. Helen didn't succeed in sending away the feeling that those sentences were the echo of something already felt in a removed past.

  On the fund of the corridor, Henry Cesana leaned out from his/her office. It exchanged a look with Helen, it acknowledged Pezzali and he withdrew. An apparition that allowe
d her to return on the earth.

  «Doctor Pezzali, she is right» he/she affirmed with regret. «But unfortunately without the money we would not be here neither me, neither her.»

  «A physician should hate the money. It is the hammer that nails him the wings to earth. But luckily his/her, she is not a physician.»

  Helen knew to have to reenter in the office but something held back her/it. You/he/she was not seduced, not yet at least. But from that man you/he/she would have liked to still feel other words.

  It was then that the silence of the attended one was upset by to storm some final ride of the ouverture of the William Tell of Rossini. Too much sonorous, too much minx.

  Helen blushed some worse shame. It was his damned cellular that went crazy to like in to call her/it back so, without any decorum. Helen cursed the idleness that had prevented her, despite the innumerable intentions, to change that suoneria that Angel had inserted her for jest.

  «I am desolate.» It stirred again madwoman in the bag, laboring to find the cellular phone. «I immediately extinguish him/it. Curse.»

  Only after innumerable efforts the instrument went out of the hideaway. And there, perceiving the display, Helen stopped him uncertain. The button with the red cornet already under his/her finger he/she didn't want to be crushed yet.

  «There are problems?» he/she asked Charles Pezzali.

  Helen shook him.

  «No, absolutely. It is only my brother. Now I close.»

  «No, I beg her/it.» The peremptory application of Pezzali arrested her/it in time. It seemed too definite, to be a simple courtesy. «Also answers. With permission.»

  It smiled at her and it went. While it was getting further, Helen realized not to have had the strength to ask him as it did to know who pits.

  Green button.

  «Ready.»

  «To the buonora. This time I am me that I have interrupted by chance something?»

  «Yes. You know, it calls job. I don't know if you have it foresees the concept.»

  «Today we are well in vein of gentleness.»

  «Angel, is working. Tell me thing you want.»

  «To speak to you. What then the same thing that you wanted to do you last night is.»

  Last night. A merda of evening, on which you/he/she would never have liked to return.

  «Please. Don't speak last night to me» it replied angry.

  «It is not my guilt if you decide all to make me the surprises.»

  «It didn't seem me that the child was a surprise.»

  Angel stopped from an immediate answer.

  «You feel: I understand that the presence of Ricciuti can create you problems. But whoever other I frequent it doesn't have to concern you.»

  «Oh, yes. Certain. It is correct that you take your liberty to tag after minor.»

  «From when you dedicate yourself to the militant moralism, little sister?»

  «From when you have forgotten what both the ethic! I don't like that that do and I have never hidden him to you. I don't say your job, rather: you know him/it that I am proud of you. And it doesn't even interest me of your conquests and escapades. But I don't want to see you victim of greater games of you.»

  «To thing you report yourself, now?»

  «Of all of this that I have seen last night. I have seen you disorientated. You displayed a safety that, for the first one turned from that I know you, he/she put on you I set as a suit cut badly. You will have been able to deceive all but not me.»

  How much is it worth, to the world, an unmasked actor? How much a conjurer whose trick is revealed? How much a political sbugiardato? There are weakness in the human mind that the great ones hide even to him same; the conscience is a crumpled cloth, in which there are folds, tears and seams that serve from hideaway, and there they lies forgotten and buried demons inconfessabili.

  It is a sin of injured majesty to unmask the actor, the conjurer, the political one. But who could condemn, Angel, if in front of itself, had to betray him/it, discovered another himself?

  «We want to speak of it?» Angel cleared up in to be able to ask him/it. The quotidianità of the time missed him passed together with the twin one. «Ditches unemployed, could pass still to find me afternoon today.»

  Helen appreciated the invitation, and it relaunched well prepared.

  «I can spend this evening.»

  But to that proposal the eyes of Angel raced distant; Helen could not know him/it but at that time the look of his/her/their brother pursued a simple white envelope, still sealed, abandoned on the table close to the telephone.

  «No. Tonight I am not able» he/she answered detached.

  And Helen understood.

  «Naturally. Your universe calls again yourself.» A renewed bother was translated in hasty and sharp sounds.

  «You are afraid Helen. You are afraid for you as for me. You are in escape from that world that you have refused. And now you feel him/it again impend through me. But I am not your enemy. I am your brother. Of you can entrust me you. You have to entrust you.»

  «If I have to entrust me, then you can tell me what it prevents you from meeting us tonight?»

  «You are sure to want to know him/it?»

  He/she wanted to be his/her accomplice but an impassable wall it had been separating them for a lot of time.

  «You are right. It is better of no. Even if I don't know what both worse: to know a ragazzina to encircle you or to make the orgies with a group of old perverts.»

  «You are silent!» A peremptory order the squassòs the breast, as a fist cast of surprise. Helen staggered. He/she wanted to mistake him but that of Angel it seemed a lot simpler anger. «Of certain things should not even speak! You don't know anything of that that we are. You don't know anything of as we work. You have never wanted to know nothing!»

  The silence betrayed the emotion of Helen. A new fear gave her a new loneliness.

  But his/her brother immediately appeared ready to risollevarla.

  «Helen both me that you we have known the organization through Emilio. I have remained, and you no: the way with which he has approached us was evidently, all right for me but not for you.»

  «There is not anything to be understood!» He/she wanted then to defend himself/herself/themselves Helen. «Is what is trying to realize that is monstrous! Is playing with the man with the nature. Is playing to make God!»

  Angel let her/it discharge. It was not the first time that it respected the fears of it, loving boldness and brittleness of it.

  «If you don't want to understand, it means that you are not ready to do him/it. When you will want to trust me, as you have always done, then you will return, and you will ask me to explain. Until then, I have sworn: I won't be me to force to look you in the abyss.»

  Helen was about to answer when Henry Cesana appeared still.

  There was not more Pezzali to protect her and that inquiring look it detained him on the girl that anchors it delayed to the telephone.

  «I have to leave you, now.»

  «When we see us?»

  «I do me long live me. Tomorrow.»

  Riagganciò.

  Thing was of it of Helen, lost in the meander of the business life, Angel could never know him/it.

  The beloved sister, industrious, punctual, loyal to the duty and the constituted orders, it splashed about at that time in his/her habitat: to bend the head to the business satrap, to glue the eyes to dense documents of rules, to fill empty spaces of numbers and sigle to satisfy other heads, that undergo to financiers, that try to ingratiate committees, in which nothing interests of a new conquest but only that all the white spaces become black.

  He found again him in the house, with I set a solo pair of jeans and an undershirt and with a mute cellular phone in hand. Is sat on the edge of the bed, the great bed, that of his/her/their parents. It was completely undone, still imbued of the perfumes of the night.

  It went out of the room and it
reached the study, where the power on screen of the PC reproduced a photo of the entry of the caves of Altamira, told the caves of the bisons for the superb representations risalenti the paleolitico. You/he/she had gone off her in a recent trip, also immortalizing as trophy Portuguese two students of anthropology, that that same evening had swept together.

  In low, on the bar, an icon flashed: someone recalled its attention. Cliccò with the mouse, without being amazed.

  Laura simply wrote him Hi.

  That's all. Who knows from how much time had come that regard that she had sent without pretensions.

  An only word, a simple call. And then attends him.

  Laura would never have stamped on anybody to get what he/she wanted. Just as Helen.

  So similar, the two girls, although fallen by the eccentricities of the servant in opposite contexts. One, Helen, incapable to enjoy the liberty that would have been able also to afford himself/herself/themselves. The other confined in a dream of liberty that anchors could not live.

  Since liberty is a difficult and dangerous prize and Helen it was always estate to the wide one.

  He/she remembered Angel, errors and heroes of youth in the scheming years of the high school.

  Angel and Helen had been enrolled both to the same school, but in different high school: Helen the scientific one, Angel the classical one. It was an institute comprehensive Catholic, among the most famous of the city. One great passion of mine, the schools of the Old one: there they nest the true free spirits, those able to thrill and to become enthusiastic himself/herself/themselves for the walk of the knowledge. The government alternative is the kingdom of gotten lazy bureaucrats a death sentence of the free thought.

  I free thought that tried many years ago to express him that morning of, in a great classroom that swarmed of strong young people. The theme was my preferred ossimoro: thing makes the free man.

  The more scalpitantis were the militiamen of the movement that it already made witticism in the name of the liberation. They played in the house, therefore you/they had departed to the attack: they gave breath to a twisted reasoning according to which the man is born free, but you/he/she is free only in the Christ, since its liberty coincides with the free adhesion to the sketch that the Old man has reserved to him, and therefore the life in community and the share to the movement I am the maximum one of the expression of their liberty, since it is free only whoever it understands that the good for itself is the meeting with his/her/their brother, his/her sister, his/her brother's sister, his/her mother, his/her aunt, but above all the Church, that notoriously bride is mother and to the necessity also lover. The all in an appearance of absolute simplicity and linearity.

  To flashes, when you/he/she was allowed them, the minorities trooped to the extreme ones, right or it damages that were, they uselessly shouted that liberty is also liberty from the doctrine and they exalted the heresy as germ of truth.

  And while the minds aroused enthusiasm him, Angel would never have forgotten the separation of Helen.

  Whoever intervened, he/she asked, he/she answered, it was troubled to sustain a rag of position: she seemed it almost refused to listen.

  «The liberty me ago fear.» you/he/she had answered him, when returning home had asked him of it the motive. «Too cruelties can end in name of the liberty, whoever arrogates the right to interpret its meaning.»

  As it was beautiful Helen to the high school. Such a refined beauty that only few had the liver to contemplate, the courage to desire, the strength to approach.

  It was so similar since that time the Helen to Laura.

  A pure beauty, perfect, that of an age that he does grace and of a vice that he makes innocence. The beauty that is always right and that of nothing has to realize.

  The free beauty, the greatest gift for a living being, what time it manifested him in that green little ball close to the name, on a cold and colored dialogue box.

  It was still on-line, in attended, faithful to his/her new passion. An adorable and exciting fidelity.

  A lot of things were to say. All the words that that night was held in throat, so that you/they were not thrown in the anything.

  You sat to the computer.

  Hi Laura. It began.