All In Mid-August

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All In Mid-August Page 22

by Nunzia Castaldo


  ***

  At the fair of St. Lazzaro

  August 15, Monday evening

  Now a lot of people, ordering, filling trays, sat at the table selected.

  Emiliana and Stephen did the same. They were loaded with food, a carafe of white wine, and made their way through the crowd to find a suitable place to witness the spectacle that was about to begin. Passed between the rows of tables clutching the tray not to spill it. Smells of grilled, chopped onion browned by the Bolognese sauce, mingled with Char burning, ladies perfume, which is poured wine from the carboys. Finally found a place in a corner almost behind the scenes, behind the first row of tables. He sat down between chatter among squeal of rocking chairs on uneven cement, tablecloths of paper rustling between plates and plastic cups creaky, alternating between smooth music to pop. "I did a lot of good I can vent with you, I wanted to tell you" She was silent, her head spinning. Meanwhile, Stephen turned his gaze farther and found himself thinking how small the world and how everything converged to irritate that in mid-August. Ha had recognized at a table the secretary of Stanzani. He told her the shop and worked there as always. His father gave him space for entertainment. If needed, the afternoon, back to school, he was in the store and even in the summer. He made him feel guilty and he got what he wanted. When his father bought the store, I'll made payable, but the aim was to force him to work steadily. grocer had become so too. Emiliana now let him speak, she felt that it was good romp and a shoulder to cry she could not deny it to anyone. Stephen continued. He told her that he had always been very apprehensive in his life. He was an only child, his parents were advanced in years when he was conceived and raised in the belief that he was born by mistake and therefore unpopular. Every situation that was difficult to deal with, he thought it was because of how he was brought up to his parents: " Do not you see how many sacrifices we make for you, one day it will all be yours." He was different, he loved to study, he wanted to travel, spend money on modern equipment and get a luxury car. Instead he had not had a penny in my pocket for several years after he began working steadily in the store, ran his own father. "I have also agreed to buy the damn shop" He gesticulated and they Bolognese aching legs seemed to materialize as soon as casts. Emiliana thought that Stephen needed vacation. She was best he left Bologna for a holiday, could not take any more stories, her and the others. "I have a great need to regain energy, I think that in contact with the sun and the sea I'll feel better; I think I'm going to Naples". She was planning immediately that he could move from Naples to visit the islands of the gulf. If Stephen wanted to go on vacation with her, he would not have refused, the holiday could make him just fine. Trombley was not one to grasp implied. "Oh, you go back in your part," replied the other hand, without malice, but without some finesse. Emiliana if it was not bad, not misunderstood, it was since he had had the use of reason to feel that she had to ask ' where are you from?' Every time she used his last name or when stared with a little attention. It's true, as a child, through adolescence, she had resented, but now there was more chance. She made ​​no distinction of origin, each person was unique, not easily categorized. Even she was. Sometimes it was hard, restless, or romantic and understanding. Always in love with everything that was good and expression of human ingenuity. At this thought when a familiar voice was calling to her face and a known came forward out of the crowd dancing in the square. Emiliana recognized him right away, even if that was not met by the college years. "Hello". Paul approached, but she had no pleasure to present Trombley. He got up quickly. "Stephen there's a friend of my party" "Okay," replied Stephen nodded, raised his eyes again and this time he saw Simon, the secretary, the sent a wave from afar, had recognized him. Trombley began to think of his bureaucratic practice and the chance to win the appeal.

  Simon was at the table with the girlfriend, a slender graceful girl. Now the story of how this strange subject, agitated and anxious was the office of the Stanzani, his boss, that "squeezes balls" called her and told her about what had wrong with thinking that a woman could take it more calmly at work. She complained to her that the Stanzani not granted him a moment's respite, and told that three days earlier, had called him to the office for some details of the practice of Trombley and that certainly was an excuse, it was just to check if he had gone to office. Simon noted at that time that the work haunted him even in August, because there was no longer refers to Carla and girlfriend. "Today's expansion of Stanzani around me, there is also her friend Carla, I know because sometimes came to the office."

  Carla did not realize Simon was engaged to convince his parents that the rabbit sauce was good, just like the previous year. Meanwhile, she thought she would have done better to put them in a nursing home for the holidays and to go to Ischia with Trizia, that no matter how irritated the new marriage Duilio, the phone had appeared too cryptic, it was a new lover? Would suspect that mattered to him Trizia not always right. Meanwhile, ballroom dancing was over. There was a pause. It was just before the beginning of the show. Emiliana had reached and Paul was sitting at the bar on the other side of the square. They want to talk about how they had achieved in life after his studies and how he had lost sight of and how to work commitments away. Then he went down to the staff and discovered that both were not yet built a family. Emiliana also wanted to know of Posillipo. He still had parents who lived there. She searched his memory of sweet and fun girl, those few moments they had lived together. He was a graduate in Engineering and he found himself very well in the city, so much so that he returned to Naples after he had an office in the center of Bologna. Emiliana knew he sang and accompanied himself on the guitar. She had not forgotten that summer, at the home of Paul. On the terrace, the crisp breeze, with the sun already over the hill of Posillipo , when the sea becomes blue and the houses at the foot of Vesuvius more distinct , they invented the music and the words of a song. I wonder if he still remembered it. She intoned: "Looking in your eyes ..." He finished: "... I found loving you ..." " And then," asked Emiliana, but both had forgotten. "Come with me to Capri, my parents would be happy to see you again" "Me? In Capri? "An ancient light of curiosity and amusement lit from the bottom of the eyes off. Paul shook her hand. "Then we are agreed," he added. "I think about it and let you know," said Emiliana and added: "A beautiful holiday in my part, as Trombley says, can only be good for me," she smiled. Paul had no idea what he meant, but did not pay much attention, now thought only to take her with him on vacation.

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