«Do as you please. Do you want to get dirty in that cemetery? Then let’s go».
They changed direction, while the old man mumbled. In front of them a large avenue, surrounded by ancient sequoia. Dry leaves, on the ground, moved by the wind.
«So you call it chalk garden too?».
«Does it bother you? Everyone calls it that. I can call it Leibner Garden, if you prefer».
The old man chuckled. «You know the history then».
«I heard something. But I do not think anyone knows the true history».
«I have all his disks. You can listen to them». Then he added: «If you stay long enough».
«Of Leibner?».
«All original editions of the beginning of the century. They are very rare».
«Are you a collector?».
He shook his head. «I do not like music, I find it useless. It is Leibner who interests me. What do you know about him?».
«I think he was a famous Austrian composer. Strauss’s student, I think. He was very rich, and he settled down here».
«You are wrong. All the riches were his wife’s. She was a baroness. The villa was also hers».
Lin shrugged. «Whatever, they settled down here. In the early years of the century, I think. There was also a daughter».
«Daphne. Yes they came here in 1903. Daphne was only fourteen years old».
Lin looked at him impressed, Brainc’s knowledge surprised her. «Then there was Zephir».
«Leibner found him and took him to the villa. No one had ever heard of him, but Leibner presented him as the greatest sculptor in the world».
«And was he?».
«We will never know, don’t you think?».
«I don’t understand… the villa is full of his works».
«Corroded, all corroded by time. Unrecognisable. He never wanted his works to be photographed and now it’s too late».
«Chalk…», Lin murmured.
«Yes, all the works of Zephir were made of chalk. He knew that they would not survive, he chose it specially. As if he wanted to be forgotten».
«At that time they had to be beautiful».
«There is no one who has seen them in person. It has been almost a century now». He took a long sigh. «He came for Daphne, to make her a statue. That was Leibner’s gift for her birthday. But he never went away».
Lin remembered the story. «He made statues apon statues, filled the garden of the villa with hundreds of statues. No one knows how many there are, they have never been catalogued, they are constantly discovering new ones in the most unthinkable places. And all in chalk».
«Already in the 1930s they began to decompose. The rain, the wind, corroded them. Chalk powder engulfed the whole garden, covering everything with a white mantle, like snow. And since then it has always been so, still today the deterioration continues and the statues fade away».
«Is it not possible to stop it? Today there are some very effective fixatifs».
«Do not be fooled by the gates always being open, Villa Leibner is private property. No one can intervene. If the owners do not care about saving them, nobody can do anything».
Lin thought differently. «Villa Leibner has been uninhabited since 1914».
«You are informed, I see. But this does not change the fact that it has owners, even if they do prefer to let it go to ruin».
«Who are they?».
The old man chuckled. «I’ve never found out, though, even though I’ve been searching for years».
Lin refrained from asking personal questions, the mood changes of the old man were sudden and she did not intend to be offended yet again. She fought with more neutral arguments. «They say that those statues were strange».
«Not at first», said the old man, satisfied with the question. «Mostly of gods and heroes. Then, over the years, Zephir’s style changed, his figures were less and less human, more… alien. They say the last works were terrifying».
«What do you mean?».
«There are very few who have seen them, he hid them, in the darkest and most forgotten places in the garden».
«But it’s not that big!».
«You think?».
Lin had never come over there, even as a child. It was too dirty, there was a risk of ruining her clothes. Her mother had forbidden outright. But she knew that other children had been there, and had explored it.
She tried hard to remember. «There was gossip. About Zephir ».
The old man snorted. «They said he was Sophie’s lover, Mrs. Leibner, then Daphne, when she grew up. They also said that Leibner knew it but did not care. He had been enchanted by his art, he would do anything to make him stay in the villa».
«How did it end?».
A cheeky smile. «You don’t know?».
«I’m asking you».
«Nobody knows. No one has any idea what happened to them. Everyone disappeared at the threshold of World War I. Perhaps they felt the imminent disorder and preferred to move to safer places. Maybe not».
«Is nothing known about it?».
«No one came back after the war. The villa was intact, it was spared form being bombed, but no one came back to live there, ever again».
Already a whitish, thin powder covered the wall. Lin realized that their objective was near. All the houses on the street were very old and mostly abandoned. They were ancient villas, very distanced from each other, with large abandoned parks.
«Why is it open to the public?».
«It is not open to the public. It’s just open».
«I do not understand».
«Me neither. No agreement has ever been made with the municipality. It has always been so, that I know of, the gates of the villa have always been open, no one has ever seen them closed».
«And who opened them?».
«Leibner, I guess, when they left».
Lin looked at him incredulously. «Have they been open for nearly a century?».
He chuckled. «I think so».
«Yet there is an owner».
«Taxes are paid every year. It’s all sorted out by a Swiss bank. So yes, I guess the villa has an owner».
«That’s crazy», Lin said.
2
Everyone had visited it at least once. Anyone who had gone to that city, for pleasure or for work, hearing about that strange attraction, had to witness it in person. No was ever disappointed.
The chalk garden was impressive. From the street you could not see the villa, surrounded by centuries-old trees.
The first impression was to be in front of a snowy landscape. Then the realization that it was not so. Then there would be a feeling of watching a show, as if it were all a set design, then this also faded. Desolation strikes suddenly: not a frozen, crystallized world, but a dead world. The statues furthered this impression. They were corroded, unrecognisable.
There were not many, at least at first sight. Two at the entrance, at either side of a white stone path.
Two rows of benches along the path, also covered with chalk. Pure white meadows, on either side, with two marble fountains.
But the most striking were the trees. They also seemed to be transformed into statues. White, twisted, apparently dead or dying. There were many of them, almost a forest, and the green seemed banned from that white landscape.
More than ever Lin felt that she was in front of a cemetery.
«You do not want to get in there!».
«I’m thirty years old here, Miss».
«But…».
«It’s just chalk, it doesn’t kill. Do I look dead?».
«It’s easy to slip, you have to be careful».
«You be careful. By now I know every single stone in this garden. I do not need your help».
Brainc broke away from her and went on. Lin looked on, desolate, in her whitewashed coat. A frosty wind lifted flakes of chalk, spreading it in the air. It could have been snow. She went after him, annoyed.
«The third bench is the most comfortable», B
rainc said. «Let’s sit down there».
«It’s all dirty!».
«Does the white frighten you?».
She preferred not to argue. She reached the bench and tried to remove some of the dust. But now it had been encrusted, over the decades, layered, it seemed as if fossilized. She was content to sit on a handkerchief.
The old man sat rigidly, careless of dirtying his coat.
The silence was absolute, cars passed very rarely by that boulevard. Lin doubted that any were close.
«Why do you come here?».
The silence continued and Lin thought he would not answer.
«To wait».
«For who?».
«A woman».
Lin was almost disappointed. «A woman. Is she important to you?».
«Very much».
The old man turned to her and took off his dark glasses. For the first time Lin could see his eyes. In fact, she could see that his eyes were gone. They were completely missing.
«I’m sorry», she murmured instinctively.
The old man put the glasses back on. «The woman that ate my eyes».
Lin boggled, but then she realized that the sentence had to be metaphorical. «What do you mean?».
«You do not believe me, do you?».
«What should I believe?».
«That someone may have eaten my eyes. That she did to me. That she ate my eyes».
«You lost them in Indochina, you told me, more than fifty years ago».
«Yes, in Indochina. But lost is not the right word».
«Were you very young?».
He smiled. «I was only twenty. It was 1954. She said I had beautiful eyes and would have liked to eat them. Then she really did».
Lin did not want to feed into his fantasies, but she did not want provoke the hateful man. «Was she Vietnamese?», she asked, resigned.
«It was one of ours! A nurse. She was beautiful, flaming red hair that seemed to be ablaze. I will never forget her».
His voice softened, lost in memories. «The war was over, we had lost, I was injured, I was in a field hospital near Dien Bien Phu. The battle was raging, the fortress was about to fall. It was not a serious injury. An arm. I was about to be resigned. She…». The voice suddenly became sweet, surprising Lin. «She was an angel, everyone fell in love with her. She was so kind to me. She spent so long beside my bed, she spoke to me».
Then the voice became uncertain. «One night she came to me. She stripped off and entered my bed. It was paradise, a unique, unforgettable experience. She never said a word, she just gave me pleasure, tried to make me happy, and suddenly…». A moment of tension. «She leaned over me. I thought she wanted to kiss me, that she wanted to kiss my eyes. She ripped them out and devoured them».
He turned to look at her, as if he were capable of doing so. «Can you imagine it? She snatched one with her teeth, and I was staring at her with the other eye as she swallowed it! Then she lent back down to take that one as well».
Lin was incredulous, but subjugated by the tale. «Did you do anything to stop her?».
She shook her head. «I could not! She was too strong, she had immobilized me in bed, she had the strength of a hundred men!».
A long silence.
«After that what happened?».
He shrugged. «I screamed, what else? But they were used to screaming. I had to scream for a long time before someone came to see. They did not believe me at the beginning. They thought I had a nightmare, that my eyes were lost in the battle. Then they discovered that I should have only one wound on my arm. But it was too late».
«What happened to the woman?».
«She disappeared into nothingness. When they went to her tent there was nothing. Like she had evaporated».
Lin stayed silent for a moment.
«Why wait here? You said that more than fifty years have passed».
He smiled. «Because this is her home. Sooner or later she will come back, I’m sure».
Lin was not sure she had understood. «How old was she, that woman?».
The old man sighed. «Oh, she was young, my age, roughly».
«Impossible. This house has been uninhabited since 1914, she said, and at that time you had not yet been born».
He nodded. «Yeah, it would seem that way. But this is her home, she told me».
«She did?».
«She was talking about it constantly, how she was missing it, how she could not wait to go back. For whole nights she talked about nothing else. She described it in every detail. I went looking for it for twenty years, all over Europe. And ever since I found it, I haven’t left this place since». The smile returned. «I know she will come back. Sooner or later she will come back».
«Do you want to take revenge? You want to kill her?».
The old man’s voice was hesitant. «I want my eyes. She must restore my eyes».
It was an absurd story, he was just playing with her. Lin was certain. «How do you know this is her home?», she asked. «You can’t see».
The old man chuckled. «You believe so? Help me stand up».
Lin did not let him say it twice, happy to go away from there.
The old man, however, began to rant, pointing at the various points, as if he were a tourist guide. «When the gates open the statues of Apollo and Venus wait for me».
There was something strange in his emphasis, he almost seemed to be repeating someone else’s words. Words sculpted in memory.
«A path of white stones goes forward into the green».
The old man started off away from the gates. Lin had to run after him.
«The statue of Pan at the foot of an old eucalyptus».
Lin looked in the direction indicated. Perhaps the twisted and dying tree really was a eucalyptus, but it was not easy to recognize. Even worse for the statue at it’s feet, it had now lost all human semblance.
They continued on. «Diana is reflected in her fountain».
There really was an old fountain, now devoid of water from time immemorial, and a statue that overlooked it. It still looked vaguely feminine.
«Let’s go further, let’s go further».
Lin stopped him. «No, no need, I believe».
He smiled satisfied. «Don’t you want to see the villa? They say it’s spectacular».
Lin felt disturbed despite his scepticism. «Another time. It’s late».
The old man grinned. «I scared you, admit it! You take me for a crazy old man».
«No, no», she hastened to say, trying to be convincing.
He snapped. «It does not matter. She’ll come anyway. And I’ll be here on that day».
He stood still, silent, then snorted. «But yes, let’s leave, today she is not here. If she had been, I’d be aware of it».
Lin took him by the arm and the old man let himself be led, without complaining, immersed in memories.
When they passed through the gates, Lin breathed a sigh of relief.
Mule was sitting on the steps of the stairs when Lin came home. She was tired, exhausted by the endless walk, disturbed by the strange stories of the old soldier. She was in a hurry to go back to her mother, and she just could not put up with him as well.
She came in silence: Mule was holding his head between his hands and Lin could not see him in the face. «What’s wrong? What happened?».
He shook his head.
Lin let herself slide down the stairs, next to the boy. «Did they make fun of you again?».
Mule turned to look at her. He had to be sixteen now, and he would have been a good looking boy, if only… They all noticed it, with so many small hints: his mouth always half-open, a perpetually surprised expression, his drooping shoulders. Mule was not very clever, but his parents refused to admit he needed professional help. He had now been held back more times than not, and his schoolmates were ever younger than him. Inevitable that he became the object of everyone’s derision.
«What is it now, Mule?».
By now everyone
called him that way, it seemed like he liked it too.
«Was it your friends? Forget about them».
«No, no», he said.
«It’s late, you should not stay here. They will be waiting for you at home».
He seemed weird, stranger than usual. He opened his mouth to talk and then changed his mind.
Lin squeezed his arm, affectionately. «Come on, tell me. What’s the problem?».
He continued to look at her, with a fixed glance. «Lin…», he murmured. «Are my eyes beautiful?».
Lin was astonished and could not find an answer. Mule, embarrassed, jumped up and went up the steps racing. She heard a door slam before she could get up.
Lin was worried, very much so.
Yes, Mule’s eyes were beautiful, she always noticed them. Large eyes, with a thousand colours, with golden gildings inside them. They seemed colourful galaxies. They were the most beautiful thing about him, gorgeous eyes.
Lin felt a shudder, then she told herself that it was nonsense, and that Mule was just stupid.
«What can you see?».
«Shadows. But if I focus, if I focus on a single point, then it improves, the contours become clearer. But I do not always understand what I’m seeing».
Lucia Renda was slowly learning to move alone in the room. They had never approached the subject in a direct way, but they both knew how much it was necessary to learn, to know the house well, at least while what little sight that remained still lasted.
«That’s the sewing basket, Mom».
«Why is it still here? You know I can not use it any more».
Her mother’s strength surprised even Lin: she had never complained, had never shown defeat. Lucia Renda had been a decisive, independent woman for all of her life, not even the imminent blindness could change that.
«We could…».
Her mother had already understood. «What? Other doctors, other hospitals?».
«They could find a solution».
«Stop it, Lin! There is no solution! What about you, haven’t you quit yet?».
«I have not felt the necessity so far».
«We’re not starving! You’re the one who doesn’t want admit that I’m right!».
«That man…».
Lizzi Bizzi and the Red Witch Page 80