Of course he was impressed, but by my impudence! she said when, thinking about us, she dwelt on that episode, for the purest purpose of feeling a little hurt. I had the daring to take the first step! Stupid! Even after they were married, it was as if he were always above the both of them. He paid homage with his presence, honoring her feelings. He conceded himself parsimoniously and however always with an evanescent discretion ... the more elusive he was, the more she violated him with pretensions of conversations that inevitably ended in arguments Who knows how we managed to conceive Elena in the meantime ... yes, the daughter, the only really beautiful thing that had had taken away from that strange romance.
With Elena he was different. He came down from that kind of pedestal he was perched on all the time, and he played, joked, even laughed with the little one. But as soon as she tried to get closer to him, getting into the kind of exclusive circle that father and daughter formed when they were together, he stiffened, moved away from both of them. They had endured ten years, and suffered for this “guilty love”. For ten long years he had tried to figure out what it was in her that was not working, naturally attaching all possible faults – too bold, too extroverted, too messy ...
Always and still too ... little! Today he was hated for having done so badly, for having given up on living a real love, because of a love that had idealized only within himself. Tidy to the point of paranoia, he had seen her every time she ran home to pick up her daughter’s toys so he would never find anything out of place on his return. Methodically, like a Swiss watch, she had forced her life and their child’s life into a scan of hours and times that were consistent with her husband’s habits, but never with her “habits.” But to the indifferent and obstinate silence that he addresses her with, she had never got used to that no. And it was a continuous lament, begging him, pushing him to discuss, not being able to converse. She had demanded that he accompany them at least on Saturday afternoons to do the weekly shopping, as a way of going out together, since he had rejected any other occasion. She was aware that forcing him to do so increased his disapproval of her, but in the end it had become a slither of revenge that gave her a little pleasure, in the midst of so much melancholy.
She had bought the computer one night, when she had left the court after the meeting with the judge who had approved their separation. It was something she’d longed for, without ever daring to ask him, because surely it was an object he would not approve of. The Internet, with its immense network and branching information, was too broad a concept, too liberal a liberty to interest him. Thus, she had bought it as an act of liberation, in response to the outstanding suffering suffered by her husband – “former-husband!” – that day, remaining silent, with the distant expression on his face, when the judge had attempted the rite of reconciliation. Even at that indifferent occasion, superior to everything, to what had been their marriage and that was over. She had turned quickly, after signing, greeted the attorney who had assisted her with a deliberately confidential “Ciao”, and had left quickly, without waiting to see any possible reaction on her ex-husband’s face. She had only stopped at the entrance of the computer discount near home.
“That one!” she had indicated the most expensive, the most aerodynamic ... the most powerful one. Only later would she read the instructions and would learn how to use it. Now, what was important was that she was free to do and buy what she wanted. Without the approval of anyone.
******
Iride’s Message: Being or Feeling?
“Does it make sense to be without feeling? And can one honestly say that you can feel without necessarily having to be?”
Here she was again: Iride. There was something in the themes she proposed that attracted him. He had tried to ignore her at first, but her answers to other statements had intrigued him.
Skywalker’s answer
Iride, you naive soul, do you really think that “being” necessarily involves “feeling”? I’m marveling at you, but I don’t like it!!
Iride’s response:
Naive, probably ... certainly, fortunately! And that, dear Sky, I’m happy but I’m not surprised!
Now it was a while that they had gone on like this, little verbal skirmishes, virtual skirmishes. She wasn’t looking for him, he was pursuing her. She was trying to escape, perhaps scared by those subtle provocations. But to feel pursued was a new thing that she wasn’t used to. She had always chased her husband, but she did not know what it meant to be the subject of interest. Skywalker’s every provocative response caused her anxiety, but at the same time excited her. She was trying to escape, but his impetuous spirit prevented her from keeping silent for too long. And that night they were connected at that same time, inserting messages one after the other ... Strangely they were following the same links, the same invisible threads of the subtle and impalpable web of the Internet...
“Sky, why are you following me” she could not go on, she had to act. “You really think that is following you? “I have full confirmation ... What do you want from me?”
“To meet you!”
Iride was now there, in front of the shaky, flickering monitor, wondering if she’d gone mad. Something had to have burst in her head, so much so that she could accept that meeting.
Sky was incredulous. For the first time in his life, he had courted, persuaded and insisted on inducing a woman to accept an invitation. For the first time he had taken the initiative.
*******
The small bar with tearoom was completely empty. Sky had asked for permission from work to go there in the afternoon ... So you will immediately know who I am ...
A mixture of excitement and sympathy assailed him, now that he was sitting in front of a chamomile pretending to read the newspaper, just for effect. Iride was late
She probably won’t come.
It might be better like that. But he felt excited.
Iride peered into the window and saw that man hiding behind the newspaper, she knew that was Skywalker. Her knees bent a little, remembering the first languor of adolescence. Idiot that I am ... One moment to ask if it was really what she wanted, then the usual impulse answered for her, she went in, and she quietly went to the table where the one she knew to be Sky was sitting, when suddenly the guy lowered the newspaper ...
They remained for a few moments waiting; their eyes wide open with a bewildered expression on their faces. To find themselves in front of each other, suddenly, unexpectedly ... until together, they exploded in free laughter, full, liberating. Uncontained tears of disbelief, amusement, cheerfulness. After ten years, for the first time, they were laughing together.
The bartender, now tired, had tidied the room, picked up the chairs, closed the cash machine, watching for a long time those two who had been there since three in the afternoon, sitting in that corner talking so much, in a kind of secret code: Chips, bit, ram, mega, dos, browser ... He went up to them shyly “I should close ...”
He saw them move away, and lowering the shutter could not help but watch the strange couple who, disappearing, immediately vanishing swallowed up by the mist ... their strong and cheerful voices still talking that incomprehensible language ...
“ISDN or ADSL?”
The end.
Hearts in the net was written in 2003. It is dated and you can feel it. Along with another 5 stories, it won the selection of the Literary Prize Tales on the Net and was published in an anthology by Newton & Compton. It’s my gift for you, readers, because you have followed me all the way to the end.
If you want to read more or know more about my literary production, you can read my blog http://amnerisdicesare.wordpress.com
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