One after the other, they arrived. Honking their horns and revving their engines. Some of them rode their motorcycles up onto the sidewalk, others parked them there in front of the locked metal gate in front of the Euclide.
Babi dismounted from Step’s motorcycle and brushed her hair back with one hand. At that moment, Pallina came up to her. “Cool, right?”
“What?”
“Well, you know, running out of that place, into the night, without paying. I’ve never done that. Come on, it was too much fun. Plus, they’re nice, aren’t they?”
“No, they’re not. And I didn’t think it was fun at all.”
“Well, just for this one time…”
“No, it’s not just one time. You know that perfectly well. It’s the usual thing for these guys. Pallina, you don’t seem to understand. You might as well have just held up that restaurant. If you eat their food and leave without paying, you just took part in a robbery.”
“Oh, give me a break! A bowl of tortellini and beer. The robbery of the century!”
“Pallina, when you’re determined not to understand something, there’s just no way around it with you, is there?”
Suddenly, a hand slapped her on the back, twice, and not lightly by any stretch of the imagination.
Babi turned around. Maddalena was right in front of her. She was chomping on a stick of gum and staring at her, with a smile on her face. “Listen, you’d better not come around here.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you around here.”
“I don’t think this place belongs to you. So you can’t tell me not to come.”
Babi turned back to talk to Pallina, putting an end to any further discussion. She tried to start a conversation, any old conversation. But this time a sudden, violent shove forced her to turn around.
“Maybe you didn’t understand what I’m saying. You need to beat it.” Maddalena hit Babi hard on her left shoulder with her right hand. “You get me?”
Babi heaved a sigh. “What do you want from me?”
Maddalena raised her voice as she turned red. “I’m the girl that’s here to smash your face in.” Then she leaned in and shouted just inches away from her face: “You get me?”
Babi grimaced in distaste. All around her, people had turned to see what was happening. Slowly, the people stopped talking and clustered around. Everyone seemed to know what was about to happen.
Babi knew it too. She tried to shove Maddalena away but she was standing far too close to her. “Listen, cut this out. I don’t like it when people throw tantrums.”
“Ah, you don’t like it, do you? Then why don’t you just stay home…” Maddalena stepped forward menacingly.
Babi extended her arms and put her hands on Maddalena’s shoulders, trying to keep her at a distance. “Look, I told you, I don’t feel like arguing with you…”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Maddalena looked at Babi’s hand resting on her right shoulder. “Do you think you can put your hands on me?” And she slapped hard and fast at Babi’s arm, knocking it aside.
“All right, I’m leaving. Step?”
Babi turned around, looking for him. But at that very moment, she felt a stinging blow under her right cheekbone. Something had just hit her.
She turned around. Maddalena was right there, facing her. Her fists were up, clenched and menacing, and she was smiling. She was the one who’d just hit her.
Babi lifted her hand to her cheek. Her cheekbone was hot, and it hurt. Then Maddalena kicked her hard in the belly, and Babi reeled backward. Maddalena only grazed her with the punch, but it still hurt.
Babi turned around to leave. “Where do you think you’re going, you ugly bitch?”
A kick from behind caught Babi right in the seat of her pants, thrusting her forward, but Babi managed not to lose her balance. She had tears in her eyes though. She continued walking slowly. All around her she heard jeering and howls, saw faces laughing, others staring at her in cold silence, and people pointing at her.
She saw a group of girls watching with worried expressions and heard the noise of distant traffic. Then she saw Step. He was standing there in front of her.
Suddenly she heard the sound of running feet behind her. She shut her eyes and slightly bowed her head. It was Maddalena. She was going to attack her again.
Babi felt her head yanked backward by the hair, practically hauled physically, and she whirled around to keep from falling. She found herself being dragged by Maddalena. By that screaming fury who was a whirling dervish of punches to Babi’s head, neck, and shoulders. Her hair almost seemed to be coming out at the roots, and a stab of atrocious pain surged to her brain, driving her crazy.
That was it: Babi saw red. She tried to shake loose. But every jerk, every writhing act of resistance, just meant a new stab of pain, another lancing streak of agony. So she followed after her antagonist, practically chasing her. She held out her hands and managed to grab hold of Maddalena’s jacket, shoving forward with all her strength, closer and closer, faster and faster, without seeing where she was going, without a glimmer of understanding.
Until she heard a loud clatter of metal, the sound of falling iron, and was suddenly released, free to breathe, at last at peace. Maddalena had stumbled backward into the line of mopeds and scooters and had fallen to the ground, taking with her a green Boxer. And now there she lay still, while a greasy wheel with rusty spokes was still spinning and a heavy frame and a set of handlebars pinned her in place.
Babi felt a surge of rage rise within her suddenly, like a tidal wave. She felt her face redden, her breath grow ragged, her cheekbone still stinging, and the ache all over her scalp—and in the blink of an eye, she was all over Maddalena. She started punching her and kicking her like a wild animal, unrecognizable to those who knew her.
Maddalena tried to get to her feet but Babi leaned over her and pounded her with her fists, striking everywhere, screaming, scratching, yanking her hair, and drawing long, jagged lines of blood down her neck.
Then two powerful hands grabbed Babi from behind and lifted her into the air. She suddenly found herself kicking her feet, writhing to escape in an attempt to go back on the attack, back to biting and wounding. As she was pulled back, one last accurate kick lashed out, though not with that precise target in mind, and hit another moped. An SH 50 tumbled over slowly next to Maddalena, who lay panting in exhaustion.
“Oh, my scooter…,” one innocent voice called in dismay.
As she was being dragged away, Babi looked at the crowd. They weren’t laughing now. Now they stood silent, staring at her. They parted to let her through. She let herself fall back, abandoning herself to the one carrying her off. And a nervous laugh rose from her lips toward the sky but she heard nothing coming out of her mouth.
A cool breeze was caressing her face, so she shut her eyes. Her head was spinning. Her heart was racing. Her breathing was ragged, and violent surges of rage rushed through her from time to time, only beginning to subside. Something underneath her came to a halt. She was on the motorcycle.
Step helped her off. “Come here.”
They were on the Corso di Francia bridge. She climbed the steps and went over to the drinking fountain.
Step got his bandanna wet and placed it on her face. “Is that better?”
Babi shut her eyes. The cool wet cloth felt good on her reddened skin, on her bruised cheek, on her still-swollen face. She nodded her head.
Step sat down on the low wall nearby, his legs wide, feet dangling. He sat there smiling as he looked at her. “Who were you again? The one who hated brawlers? Violent thugs? Well, that’s good! I mean, if I hadn’t got you out of there, you’d have murdered that poor girl.”
Babi looked at him. She took a step toward him and then burst into tears. Suddenly, in a convulsive fashion, it was as if something had suddenly broken in her, and that river of tears had just burst forth, untamable and violent, relentless.
Step suddenly
found himself holding those small, soft shoulders, racked with powerful gasps of sobbing. He stood there, staring at her, spreading both hands wide, not sure what to do. Then he hugged her close. “Come on, don’t be like this. It’s not your fault. She provoked you.”
“I didn’t want to hit her. I didn’t want to hurt her. Seriously…I didn’t want to.”
“Yes, I know.”
Step put a hand under her chin. He caught one tiny, salty tear, and then he tilted her face upward. Babi opened her eyes, sniffing and blinking, smiling and then laughing, still on edge. Sobbing slightly, she looked up at him. He smiled at her, doing his best to calm her.
Slowly, he leaned close and then kissed her on the mouth. It seemed even softer than usual, warm and submissive. And she gave in to that kiss, seeking comfort from it, at first gently and then harder and harder, desperately, until she buried her face in his neck. And he felt her wet cheeks, her cool skin, her tiny, racking sobs hidden against him.
“That’s enough now.” He pushed her away a little. “Come on, don’t be like this.” Step climbed up onto the low wall and looked over. “If you don’t stop crying, I’ll jump. I’m not kidding…”
He took a few precarious steps along the edge of the marble walls. He spread his arms wide, trying to keep his balance. “All right then. Are you going to stop or do I have to jump?”
He was walking along, putting one foot in front of the other, wobbling dangerously. Many yards below, the river ran calm and dark, the black water painted by the night, the banks covered with bushes.
Babi watched him, worried, but still weeping. “Please stop…don’t do that.”
“Then you quit crying!”
“I can’t help it…”
“Then farewell, cruel world…” Step jumped in the air and with a shout went over the side.
Babi ran to the edge of the wall. “Step!” She looked down. She couldn’t see a thing, only the slow current of the river, rolling along.
“Booooo!” Step emerged from under the wall and grabbed her by the lapels of her jacket. Babi shrieked.
“You fell for it, didn’t you?” He kissed her.
“Oh, this is the last thing I needed. Look at the shape I’m in, and you decide it’s time to play practical jokes?”
“I did it on purpose. A good scare is exactly what you needed.”
“That’s just for hiccups.”
“Well, it sure sounded like you had the hiccups, you know that? Come on, come here.” He helped her over the low wall.
They found themselves outside of the bridge itself, suspended in the darkness of a small marble cornice. Far below that ledge was the river, and a short distance away was the brightly lit Via Olimpica. Then, enveloped in the darkness and the slow whispering of the river’s current, they kissed again, passionately, with a surge of desire.
Step lifted her T-shirt and touched her breasts, freeing them. Then he undid his own shirt and pressed his smooth flesh against her chest. They remained there, breathing in each other’s warmth, listening to each other’s heartbeat, feeling their skin brush together, wrapped in the cool night breeze.
Later, sitting on the edge of the low marble wall, they looked up at the sky and the stars. Babi lay down, resting her head on Step’s legs. She stayed there for a while, in silence. Now she was calm and relaxed while he brushed her hair back off her face.
Looking around, she spotted a piece of graffiti that struck her fancy. “You’d never do anything like that for me, would you? You’d never write here on the side of the bridge.”
Step understood what she was referring to. Right in front of them, a brokenhearted spray can had etched its words of love, in English, just to be more romantic: Bambi, I love you.
“That’s true. I don’t even know how to spell, according to you.”
“Well, maybe you could find someone who knows how and tell them what you want written.” Babi tipped her head back, smiling back at him.
“And anyway, I’d write something like that, which seems better suited to you.”
Babi looked at the words that Step was pointing to. On a white column right in front of them was a piece of graffiti to which someone had added a brash insert: Sophia’s ass is Europe’s second finest. Second had been added with a small arrow.
Step smiled. “That’s a much more sincere piece of writing. Especially because yours is without a doubt the finest.”
Babi scrambled down off the wall and punched him with her small fist. “You pig!”
“Now what? You’re going to beat me up too? Oh, then you really can’t help yourself…”
“I don’t like this joke,” she said.
Step tried to hug her, but she resisted for a little while.
“I really don’t like you. It seriously bothers me.”
Step hugged her tighter. “All right, I won’t say it again.”
In the end, she let herself sink into his arms, believing his promise for a brief instant.
Chapter 25
When Step took Babi home, her folks hadn’t come back yet. He said good night to her at the front door. “Ciao, have a good night. Good job, I’m really proud of you.”
Babi smiled and disappeared up the staircase. But later, as she was going to bed with a handkerchief full of ice on her right cheekbone and little uprooted hanks of hair caught in the hairbrush in the bathroom, she thought back to those words. Right then and there, she hadn’t really thought about it. He was proud of her. Proud of what? That she’d beat up another young woman? That she’d punched her, hurt her, possibly disfigured her?
Babi slid between the sheets. She was suffering now, and not only because of the pain from having had her hair yanked out. Certainly it had been self-defense. It hadn’t been her fault; she’d been forced into it. But where had all that rage come from? Why so much hatred? Suddenly she didn’t recognize herself, she no longer knew who she was. There was only one thing she knew for sure. She certainly wasn’t proud of that Babi.
* * *
“Alessandri?”
“Present.”
“Bandini?”
“Present.”
Signora Boi was calling the roll.
Babi, sitting at her desk, was worriedly checking her note. Now it seemed not quite as perfect as it had.
Signora Boi skipped a last name. A student who was present and who was determined to be accounted for stood up at her desk and pointed out the oversight. Signora Boi apologized and started calling the roll again from where she’d made her mistake.
Babi felt slightly reassured. With a teacher like her, maybe her forged note would pass muster. When the time came, she brought her notebook up to the teacher’s desk, along with the two other girls who’d been absent the previous day. There she stood, her heart pounding. But everything went fine.
Babi went back to her desk and listened to the rest of the lesson, more relaxed now. She touched her cheekbone. It was swollen and tender. Her mother, who never missed a thing, no matter how groggy she might still be in the morning, had asked her what had happened first thing at breakfast.
“Oh, nothing. I hit my face last night in the dark when I went into my room. Someone had left the door half-open.”
Raffaella had fallen for it. Luckily, she didn’t have any other marks on her. But she’d told another lie. Her umpteenth in recent weeks. She hadn’t been caught yet. But at this rate, sooner or later, it was bound to go wrong. What she didn’t know was that the moment in question was hurtling dangerously toward her.
A note landed on her desk. Pallina smiled from across the way. She’d just tossed it.
Babi unfolded the paper. It was a sketch. A young woman lay unconscious on the ground, and another was standing over her, posing like a boxer. Above them, a title in large letters: Babi III. It was a parody of Rocky. An arrow pointed to the young woman on the ground. Above it was written Maddalena. Next to the other young woman was a different phrase: Babi, her fists were like granite, her muscles like steel. When she arrives,
all Piazza Euclide trembles. Babi couldn’t help but laugh.
At that very moment, the bell rang. Signora Boi laboriously assembled her various items and walked out of the classroom. The girls didn’t even have a chance to get up from their desks before Signora Giacci came in. They all silently sat back down again.
The teacher went to her desk. Babi had the impression that when Signora Giacci came in, she’d looked around, as if in search of something. Then, when she’d spotted Babi, she’d seemed relieved, almost. She’d smiled.
While she sat down, Babi told herself that it had just been an impression. She needed to cut this out. She was starting to fixate. After all, Signora Giacci had no evidence against her.
“Gervasi!”
Babi stood up. Signora Giacci looked at her with a smile on her face. “Come up, come up, Gervasi.”
Babi left her desk. It had been much more than an impression. She’d already been tested in history. Signora Giacci really had it in for her.
“Bring your notebook with you.” That phrase was like a knife to her heart. She felt like she was about to faint, and the classroom began to spin around her. She looked at Pallina. She’d turned pale too.
Babi, with her notebook in her hands—suddenly a terribly heavy load, practically unbearable—trudged slowly up to the teacher’s desk. In the meantime, she was struggling in vain to come up with an answer, some last hope for that strange request. Why did she want her notebook? She couldn’t seem to come up with any other reasons. Her guilty conscience seemed to have nothing to suggest, save what she already knew. She set her notebook on the teacher’s desk.
Signora Giacci opened it, staring at her. “You didn’t come to school yesterday, did you?”
“No.”
“And why not?”
“I wasn’t feeling very well.” And right now she was feeling decidedly unwell. Signora Giacci was getting dangerously close to the excused absences page. She found the last note, the falsified one.
“So you’re claiming this is your mother’s signature, right?” The teacher laid the notebook right before her eyes.
Babi looked at that attempt at imitation of hers. All of a sudden, it struck her as insanely fake-looking, incredibly tremulous, avowedly false and counterfeit. A yes emerged from her lips so faintly that it almost couldn’t be heard.
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