Lizzi Bizzi and the Red Witch

by Stefano Pastor

  He looked around. Why had they taken him there? Was it his room, in the past that did not exist?

  Maybe; for some moments it seemed a child’s room, even if the bed was too big, but everything in that house had exaggerated proportions. He realized there were no toys and when he opened the wardrobes he saw they were empty. There were no personal items, nothing that could stimulate that impossible memory.

  At this moment he thought that deep down it was not so terrible to come here to die; whether they were real or not, they released him from his loneliness.

  He dressed himself and used the bathroom, even that was immaculate; then he gathered courage to venture outside the room and search anything to eat.

  The corridors were badly lit; its few windows were covered by thick curtains that did not let the light through. The omnipresent carpets muffled all noise. He strained his hearing, trying to hear any sign of life.

  He started looking for the stairs, to go down to the floor below. As he was turning around the corner he froze.

  There was a train in front of him. A vintage locomotive and ten wagons attached to it, which quietly advanced through the corridor. There were no rails though, and the carpet absorbed all noise.

  It was a model, certainly, but much bigger than normal. The locomotive reached a height of forty centimenters, and did not go in a straight line, occupying the whole corridor.

  Mr. Orazio started following it, moving very silently, not to disturb it.

  When it reached the end of the corridor the train turned right, without Mr. Orazio understanding who was controlling it. He decided to postpone his search, however, since he found himself in front of the stairs.

  There was a teddy bear, sitting on the last step, and seemed to be looking at him with his glassy eyes. Mr. Orazio felt uncomfortable and went aroud it, trying not to touch it. The fear of the bear following him stroke him, but fortunately it remained immobile.

  When he got to the ground floor he started looking for the kitchen.

  That house had so many rooms, too many for his personal taste. He felt lost, since he had always lived in microscopic apartments.

  He did not find the kitchen, but got to what seemed to be the dining room. Sitting at the big table was the housekeeper that had received him and that strange child, Bobo. He was still looking upset and was immerse in a discussion with the woman, keeping their voices down not to be heard.

  They stopped as soon as they noticed his presence.

  The housekeeper stood. «Do you want breakfast? You must be famished».

  Mr. Orazio almost did not hear her, he was fascinated with the child. He could not take his eyes from him, with his mouth open again in astonishment.

  Even if he was very upset, Mr. Orazio sat at the table.

  The seat next to the child was taken by an old dented puppet, that vaguely resembled the Harlequin, so he was forced to sit in front of the child.

  The housekeepr left the room to carry out her task.

  Mr. Orazio felt in need of making conversation. «Do we know each other? Do we know each other well? I’m sorry, but I don’t remember ever meeting you. Could you tell me anything? Talk to me about the time in which we were friends».

  The child did not have time to answer, because the annoying girls made their entrance. «You weren’t friends, you’ve never been».

  Mr. Orazio sighed deeply, hiding his disappointment from that interruption. «Yes, but…».

  She interrupted him yet again, turning to the child. «Bobo, go away. Now! Hurry!».

  He did not make her repeat it and stood up quickly. Before he could leave Lizzi started shouting. «Take Ax away with you too!».

  Bobo grimaced. «He can very well leave by himself».

  He made Lizzi even angrier. «Take him away! And don’t argue with me!».

  The child came back inside unwillingly and took the puppet’s arm, making it fall to the ground. He left dragging it behind him, reluctantly.

  «He wasn’t your friend, he has never been», Lizzi continued, as soon as the child left the room.

  Mr. Orazio sighed again in resignation. «Yes, I know, you’ve already told me. I don’t have friends, and I’ve never had any».

  «Bobo is your brother», Lizzi concluded.

  The bomb had been thrown and Mr. Orazio took some time to understand. Lizzi quickly stemmed against that river of questions that was about to pour from his lips. «You loved him like a brother; you cannot expect him to understand, after what you have done to him. After all he’s a child».

  «I… I…».

  He just could not find anything to say, maybe because he had so many questions.

  At that moment the housekeeper returned, with the breakfast tray, and started serving him.

  «She’s Ms. Peggy», Lizzi introduced her. «You don’t remember her either, I imagine».

  He did not care about the housekeeper, Mr. Orazio’s mind was an erupting volcano. A brother? His brother? It was absurd, impossible, and yet his heart was beating like hell.

  The housekeeper’s voice was chilling. «Stop it Lizzi, you’re all wrong, like always. You two know nothing else than to make trouble»:

  This time even the red witch stood forward to confront her.

  Lizzi now had that tone that did not match a girl of that age. «You don’t care about him at all, why do you intervene?».

  «You don’t know what you are talking about».

  «You couldn’t wait for him to die!», the girl shouted.

  The mood froze and even Mr. Orazio was too amazed to intervene. The rest seemed to have forgotten he was there.

  «We have to calm down», Ms. Peggy said, who was the first to recuperate.

  «Well, I don’t have all your certainty. I can’t do anything about it».

  «I don’t think it’s time to…».

  Lizzi pointed at Mr. Orazio. «How can you be sure we can survive him?».

  Ms. Peggy closed her eyes. «Lizzi, I beg you, it’s not the time!».

  «And what if there’s nothing left later? What if his death means we’ll also stop existing? Have you thought about this?».

  Ms. Peggy exploded, setting aside any attempt of reasoning. «It would be liberation all the same! Isn’t that what we are all waiting for?».

  A jaunty smile made her look like a child again. «Talk for yourself, you old witch. I have absolutely no intention in disappearing».

  Ms. Peggy started shouting again. «Lizzi, this isn’t the way! Not in front of him!».

  «He has to remember, right? It’s the only way for him to remember. I’m helping him».

  «Remember what?», the housekeeper shouted. «Remember how to kill you? Is that what you want? If he remember we’ll all be dead!».

  Lizzi grinned again. «You aren’t afraid of death, are you? You can’t be worried about that».

  «You’re hurting everyone, Lizzi! You’re hurting us and you’re hurting yourself! You’re even hurting him!». She looked at Mr. Orazio for the first time. «He was dying, it was his choice, why did you have to meddle?».

  «He’s called upon us», Lizzi murmured.

  «I don’t believe you!», Ms. Peggy shouted. «He didn’t remember you! It’s only been your choice, only yours!».

  Lizzi shrugged. «If we made a mistake we’ll be the first to pay for it».

  Ms. Peggy turned around and left, rigid as if she had swallowed a broomstick.

  7

  It was not easy to eat, even if he was starving. Mr. Orazio was very upset. Both girls were sitting in front of him and kept staring at him without stopping. This made everything worse.

  «Why…», he started, but could not add anything else.

  Lizzi only shook her head.

  «No?», he asked confused.

  «We can’t tell you anything», Lizzi explained. «You have to remember by yourself, there’s no other way»

  «Without any help?».

  «There’s us, you’re in this house. That’s all the help we can give yo
u. This is your house, all the answers are here».

  That stance was absurd, after all he had heard.

  «You don’t exist, do you? I’ve created you. It’s this you’re afraid of, of ceasing to exist when I die».

  Lizzi stretched on the table and slapped him soundly. Mr. Orazio almost stood up in astonisment.

  «This is to show you we’re real».

  He took some time to recuperate. «Then I don’t understand, I just can’t».

  Lizzi replied. «We already know this».

  «How can I remember if you don’t want to help me?».

  «We are helping you! To remember you have to want to!».

  «But remember what? This isn’t my house. It’s never been my life. I remember everything perfectly, and you aren’t part of it!».

  He started gesticulating. «I don’t have any brother! Whose son could he be, then? My parents only had me, I’ve never seen him. I’ve never seen any of you!».

  The red witch intervened, shaking her head, then she gave Lizzi a strange look and started gesticulating. They really seemed to understand each other, even without words.

  Lizzi started drumming on the table with her fingers, pensively, then uttered: «Do you remember your mother well?».

  Mr. Orazio started feeling upset again. «Certainly». But he suddenly corrected himself. «Well, she’s been dead for ten years now; I don’t remember her perfectly, but…».

  Lizzi shook her head. «Not now. Do you remember what she was like when you were a child?».

  «It’s been a long time, but yes, I remember something».

  «What was her lipstick color? Did she have carious teeth? Did she dye her hair?».

  Mr. Orazio froze flabbergasted. «What kind of questions are you asking me?».

  «Answer».

  «I don’t have the slightest idea!».

  «I suspected so».

  He shook his head, trying to recall his mother’s image. «She would always prepare chocolate cake, my favorite. And in the evening she would tell me stories. She walked me to school every morning…».

  «Oh please!», Lizzi interrupted him, fed up. «All mothers do this! I want more, I want something special, something unique!».

  «But almost sixty years have passed, how can you expect…».

  «You don’t remember then».

  It was just like that, as much as he strived he had no vivid images of that period, only muted memories.

  «What has all of this to do with…».

  «And what about your father? You don’t remember him either, do you?».

  Those memories were even blurrier, his father was never there, he came back in the afternoon and when it was time to watch TV he was sent to bed.

  «What does it mean? What does it mean?».

  Absolute silence from the other side of the table; they seemed to have gone mute.

  Even Mr. Orazio was suffering in silence, trying to make sense in his stormy mind. «Is it all fake?», he ventured. «My parents were fake memories? They weren’t my parents? Have I been adopted? Is this what you want to tell me?».

  Could it be possible? What he remembered may have not been real? They had adopted him, and in that house, he had forgotten about his past, he had made one up on his own, tailored to his new family? He had so little memories from his childhouud, and they all resembled advertising spots. There was nothing important in his memories, nothing that stood out.

  Could that happened? Could that have happened? A small child, maybe with trauma on his shoulders and deprived of his memory, had created new memories with what he believe to be his true family.

  «What happened here, in this house? What happened when I was a child? Something happened, right? Something terrible».

  He had hoped that they would shaked their heads so much, but the red witch nodded instead.

  «And was it my fault? Do I have anything to do with it?».

  They froze for a second, then Lizzi recuperated. «It’s useless like this. It’s useless for everyone; you aren’t remembering, you aren’t even trying. You’re waiting for us to tell you, and it doesn’t go like that».

  «What must I do then?».

  «You have to look for the answers on your own, it’s the only way. You’re home, explore it, look at it, and try to truly understand where you are».

  Mr. Orazio’s voice became tragic. «You’re dead, aren’t you? You’re all dead. It has happened then… You’re only ghosts».

  Lizzi exploded. «It’s not good like this! It doesn’t work like this! We can’t give you the answers! Look for them!».

  The house. His house.

  To explore, to discover, to know again.

  Were the answers to the questions that obsessed him truly there? How could he recognize them?

  He stopped in front of the big flight of stairs. Yes, he had to explore it, look room by room, try to remember. He wanted to, he wanted to with all his strength.

  He started going up, one step at a time.

  A slight swish startled him and he turned around suddenly.

  The teddy bear sitting on the first step had moved. It had now turned towards him and tried to follow him. It trudged on every step because it was not easy for it to go up that flight of stairs, its legs were too short.

  Mr. Orazio looked at it, chilled.

  The bear was increasingly nearer him and the fact that it could move had no explanation whatsoever

  He held a scream and dashed on the stairs, leaving it behind.

  He got to the top of the stairs with his heart in his throat and then he turned. Fortunately the bear was still trudging on the first steps.

  When he stepped forward, he slammed the wagons of the train that was passing in full swing. Some came out of the locomotive and hit the wall, getting ruined. Mr. Orazio also fell to the ground in great pain.

  His heart was beating madly.

  He saw the locomotive come back and help the wagons get up, then these hooked to the locomotive again. In a few seconds the train was rebuilt and restarted its silent path.

  But the point of no return, what threw him onto madness’s arms was Ax’s arrival. The puppet that resembled Harlequin so much came out of a dark corridor and it was impressive. It walked towards him like a man and there were no invisible strings that moved him.

  He grew nearer and nearer and Mr. Orazio tried to pull himself away, far from him.

  He crawled on the floor, like a worm, until he reached the walls and he cringed there, like a little boy. He diverted his eyes not to see that inanimate being moving towards him and looked down, where the wall meets the floor.

  There, for a moment, a terrifying, anguishing moment, understanding found him. And he started shouting, with a shrill, pitiful and despaired voice.

  «Billy, no! Oh Billy! No! No! No!».

  8

  They were all talking at the same time, but Lizzi’s voice prevailed over all that noise.

  «He mentioned Billy! He’s spoken about Billy, I heard him myself!».

  Who did the rest of the voices belong to? Who else was in that house that he had not yet found? The mysterious Mr. Agenore? They sounded like many, a whole lot of them.

  Mr. Orazio was still lying on the couch, where he had been taken, and could not even keep his eyes open.

  He felt tears running down his face and pain came back to overwhelm him. Not physical pain this time, but something more hurtful, something he had never experience before.

  «He’s dead, isn’t he?», Mr. Orazio managed to murmur, with a weakened voice. «Billy’s dead».

  His words silenced everyone else.

  He felt someone by his side and understood it was Lizzi. «Do you remember him?».

  Mr. Orazio barely moved his head and made an effort to open his eyes. Ms. Peggy and Bobo were there, a bit further away, and also the red witch, perched in her strange way on an armchair. He did not see anyone else; though he was convinced he had heard so many more voices.

  «He’s dead; tell
me, is he really dead?».

  «What can you remember?».

  «It happened there, at the top of the stairs, right where I was. I’m sure».

  «Can you remember who he was?».

  Mr. Orazio shook his head. «No, I don’t remember anything».

  «What was he like?».

  «No, no, nothing, I told you».

  Lizzi turned around and exchanged looks with the rest.

  «He was a friend of mine, right? He was truly my friend, did he love me?».

  Lizzi took some time to answer. «Yes, he was your friend. He really loved you».

  This incredible discovery was marvelous for Mr. Orazio. He, who always thought to be alone, had really had a true friend, an important one. So important, that even in that moment, more than fifty years later, his loss was heartbreaking.

  «Why can’t I remember him? Why can’t I remember his face?».

  Lizzi sighed. «I don’t know. You must find out».

  Mr. Orazio straightened out tiredly and sat. «Talk to me about Billy, I beg you. Tell me who he was».

  Lizzi remained in silence.

  «I remembered! I remembered something! Now you must help me!».

  Ms. Peggy took a step forward. «I don’t think that’s the case…».

  Lizzi stopped her with a nod. «She’s right, it’s not the case. Not with Billy. It’s too soon for that». She smiled at Mr. Orazio. «You aren’t ready yet».

  Mr. Orazio was starting to hate her, to hate everyone. «Who was Billy? How did he die? Why don’t you want to tell me about him?».

  «You have to lie down», Ms. Peggy suggested him. «Look how pale he is, he needs to rest».

  Mr. Orazio was not against those words, but this time he opposed that weakness firmly. He did not want to sleep, not now. «Who was Billy?!», he shouted.

  Everyone was coming closer, even the red witch had stood up.

  «Look how weak he’s become, he cannot even stand», Lizzi said.

  «He should rest. He won’t make it like this», Ms. Peggy added.

  It was true, he could not oppose the weakness, which had possessed him. Mr. Orazio struggled to keep his eyes open. «No, no!», he managed to murmur.