22
It was the eve of the great day. Pietro leaned out in the room in Geneva and saw the classical bed in bare cherry of the sheets. He/she remained in the porch and he/she saw Mrs Loi cross the corridor. It transported to work a basket of containing bamboo a big heap of dirty laundry to bring to the source of he/she Knows it will Lose.
«Gives to me Mrs Loi! I have a few times before meeting me with the militiamen to set the last matters on the safety of the Duce. Me ago pleasure to lend a hand.»
Mrs Loi suddenly became hard-working and accelerated the footstep tightening with heat the bamboo basket. «You don't worry him, is marshal, paid for this or no?»
Pietro was not waited for that demonstration of exaggerated laboriousness. It appreciated but insistette. «You put back, he never stops!» It tore her without overbearance the bamboo basket from the hands.
Mrs Loi didn't oppose further resistance. You/he/she would have liked to do him/it, because he/she knew that it was about to let loose himself/herself/themselves an uproar. It intended to be himself/herself/themselves the most distant possible when Geneva would have confessed to his/her father that that had announced already instead to her. The small basket seemed to small too Pietro to be able to contain that crowd of laundry. Mrs Loi saw him/it upset all inside a big terracotta basin, very heavier in comparison to the basket and clearly more capacious. Its strong shoulders would not have labored over the due one to conduct that load up to the source. He/she remained in equilibrium on an alone leg, the basin leaning himself/herself/itself on the lifted knee; it was in procinto to give him the definitive rush that would have brought him/it on his/her shoulders. «Dad, won't marry me Daniel Minghetti!» It was the voice in Geneva and it originated from his/her shoulders.
Pietro started and lost the balance. The basin fell for earth smashing himself/herself/itself in thousand sharp pieces. Mrs closed Loi the eyes and it was clogged the ears with the hands, as if a lightning were fallen to its feet. Pietro scrutinized the tangle of sheets combined with the so many terracotta pieces. It started to laugh without ratiocination. It approached that image of the basin in pieces to the future of his/her daughter, even if in his/her thoughts the chimera fluttered not to have heard well. «Geneva, not to say cazzate!» Taken to kicks the congeries of sheets and it made her fly in air as kites in a day of strong mistral.
The ruler was almost afraid of that inconsiderate gesture and huddled him in an angle. Geneva was immovable without answering; it imagined a reaction of that kind.
«I don't want to believe that my daughter is losing the reason to make to be swept by that prodigy of merda» you/he/she howled to squarciagola and the nerves of his/her neck they became big as the ropes of the capstan.
Geneva was astounded: never in his/her life you/he/she had believed that his/her father could use in his/her comparisons such a vulgar dictionary.
Mrs Loi, feeling the word" to sweep", it blushed. Before being a racchia in menopause you/he/she had been a desirous girl. He/she knew well that that term, said by a furious man, it extended him to all the present women, and it had an implied equality: equal woman bagassa. That was the sentence that you/they used all the men to saw the discussions and to never take him his/her own responsibilities.
«Dad, doesn't recognize you more» you/he/she whispered Geneva shaking the head.
Pietro didn't even feel her/it. «Now enough! I won't be here to attend to have a nephew sordomuto, repellent and perhaps epileptic!»
Mrs Loi, smelled the danger for Geneva, it held back the arm of Pietro. «Coop I calm, marshal, won't want at all.»
With a sharp tug Pietro wriggled him from the woman that you/he/she fell to the ground thunderously; at that time of she didn't care him a cazzo. Geneva provoked him/it. «What there is, does dad, want to beat me now?»
Pietro didn't succeed in having self-control himself/herself/themselves. It was the first time in twenty years. «You think about still continuing your relationship with that subspecies of animal? I want you to live!»
Geneva was crushed by thousand premature beat and the breath missed her. Taken to beat the eyelids and it opened the mouth as him same suffocating, then its bellows found again the oxygen and its heart he/she emigrated from the anomalous one. «I don't allow you to call this way Lucio. You cannot decide my life!» It made an instant of break to dry the tears and perhaps for catalizzare all of his/her strengths in the inhuman cry that was about to launch. «You have understood?» it shouted with a voice devastante.
That deafening clash escaped by the imprisonment of the house and it almost all reached the villas of village you Rule. Pietro made a rapid release and arranged a strong reverse on the right cheek in Geneva. A mixture of saliva and blood it escaped from his/her lips waving himself/herself/itself in the air. You/he/she had not been the pat that is given to a bad child, but rather the resonant schiaffò that would be given to a wife found in bed with his/her lover; the slap that would be given to a bagassa. «You won't see that piece of merda anymore! Have I/you/they been clear?» it ordered with still more vehemence than done first from his/her daughter.
«You have not understood anything dad. I don't know how much I will still live but I know that that that it stays me from way of living I want to pass him/it with Lucio, not with Daniel Minghetti. Don't you care this?» The cheek pulsated her and started to swell himself/herself/themselves. The taste of its same blood in mouth nauseated her/it.
Pietro began to cry. «Some that I care. But can the Minghettis make to recover you and you/they can avoid that you end in the field of Pertzogiu, you understand him/it?»
«Pertzogiu?»
Pietro lowered the look, reformed to have struck Geneva. «Yes, Geneva, has said Pertzogiu: soon a field that the Nazi will turn into a lager. A place where they will kill sick people as you.»
Geneva was placed a hand on the cheek and movements the jaw to verify its functionality. Smiled disorientating his/her father. «You are afraid that dies of epilepsy as his/her/their mother and you is afraid that is slaughtered to Pertzogiu? This, dad, is my life, and as brief as I intend to spend her/it with a person that I love. To thing it would serve me recover, or to escape to the lager, if then I will have to pass the whole existence with a man that I don't love, tormenting to have abandoned me instead what I wanted with every strength. Do tell me, you, that life would be?» Its face was serene.
Pietro chilled to those so wise words. It didn't intend to accept her however. It still kicked the laundry and some terracotta piece it broke him on the wall damaging the plaster. It didn't say anything anymore and it went out. It intended to resolve the matter without passing from third.
Mrs Loi had still sat to earth with the aching back. Geneva helped her/it to rise again himself/herself/themselves and embraced her/it, asking almost excuses her on behalf of his/her father, then it went to his/her room. You stretched prone on the bed the head covering himself/herself/itself with the pillow and he/she cried. It didn't recognize his/her father anymore, he had never touched her and you/he/she could not be turned him into that deprived ogre of feelings. Yet had happened.
Pietro had not appeased his/her anger yet. It climbed on the motorbike Guzzi and it made to roar the motor more times, to announce him. It departed as a lightning, feathering, with destination Montevecchio.
It parked the motorbike in front of the geologic office, of side to the hospital. This time doesn't be tumble in the climb, its fury would have worked from amorphous barrier preventing to fall downstream down him. An instant after it was already in front of the abject hovel of Lucio. With a calcione it opened the door and he/she saw him/it: immense and horrendous. Without minding his/her dimensions that in an instant you/they would have been able to overpower any malignant intention, showed him/it. «You, filthy, clammy worm, laws well mine labial» it said with an increasing tonality and with the finger staid index on the lips. «You won't have anymore to have nothing to that to do with my daughter there is understood?» it a
rticulated, howling as if Lucio could gain that increase of volume in his/her words.
Shook Lucio the head and it drew near to Troise, perhaps to madly explain Geneva to his/her way of loving.
«Not to touch me, joke of the nature, you don't have the right to take advantage of you the illness in Geneva!»
Lucio grunted as a wild boar hurt by the hunters, you/he/she would have liked to explain every thing but it was him impossible.
«Creeds that everything is you due because of your aspect? I thank you to have saved me the life, but my daughter is another thing. You don't belong you.»
Lucio bent the head. When its squeezed nose raised again him/it it dripped and its eyes had taken to cry.
Pietro, seeing that giant in tears, it had a wince and it considered to the words in Geneva. "That life will be away from the person that I love?"
"That life will be instead mine without you, Geneva?" he/she wondered Pietro. It was what was doing but legitimate to save the life of his/her daughter, that one day would perhaps have understood.
«Not to approach anymore you to her, because with any pretext, in the best of the hypotheses that you/he/she could happen you, I will arrest you and threw the key. Understood?»
Lucio nodded, destroyed in the mind. Now, the application to run away far served him as Geneva was really the only way of continuing to love him.
To house Troise, perhaps for the stress and the anger, Geneva was run over by a new crisis of epilepsy.
Lead Petals Page 21