Chapter 2.
It was a moderate day of beginning spring, an adorable season even in the directional centers. When the cold withdraws him, the sky becomes brighter than its same reflex in the walls of the skyscrapers, the perfumes of the pollens and the hormones wander in the air fraternally entertained by particles of thin dusts, the plants return to dye him of life, thanking with the green the man that has left them that meter picture of earth among the sidewalks to stretch the roots; and the women few to few they discover him relegating in the attic the heavy cloths androgens that insult their beauty.
It was a day pervaded by the indifference as so many. As everybody. A day articulated by automatisms as that of Helen to turn on the jail cell to few footsteps from the car.
You/he/she was gone out in all hurry of the office of Cesana, without not even being him turning to lavish a smile, a look, a gratification to the middle quarantenne that so much work had lavished for resulting attractive.
How many formal meetings you/he/she had already lived that still more than this you/they had shamelessly diverted toward gallant results. It is to how much equivocal you/he/she had delighted to lend him, you want for ambition, you want for fun, you want because indeed bewitched. It was a woman and it loved to enmesh, to dominate but above all to deceive, with naturalness and without wickedness. It loved the pleasure, that rejuvenates the minds maintaining her fanciful and creative besides stimulating the senses.
But it was not this the case, neither you/he/she would ever be been able him/it to be. Zero imagination, zero seduction; and not so much because the poor Cesana was so worse of many that had tried to report him with her.
It was the context: in that hurry from office, the veiled offers of the doctor could not deserve winks useless, neither false courtesies, perlomeno not now. You/he/she had been assumed, it was for now a pharmaceutical informant on behalf of the Furnaces and so much it was enough.
It was what wanted, from still before ending the university: the job and the money. A job from which the money, without hypocrisies: to be to the world and to be well us, necessarily passed of there. And a pharmaceutical informant doesn't earn badly.
These and other thoughts trapped her/it in that angle of industrialized province, with a shoulder Louis Vuitton and a The-phone still in hand. When digitò the PIN, was because the cellular phone started to weigh her.
And between past and present, in the immediate future a name, a face, a man attended to again have involved in his/her life.
You decided to recall from the index book that number: it made to flow the voices up to reach a name, the alone name of present baptism in an orderly list of last names.
A quiver the glances then in the hand, so much fleeting that she didn't even have the time to perceive him/it.
The phone call departed; the memorized man as Angel you/he/she would have answered within brief.
The rings extended him, inexorably outstanding; it felt then a strange excitement climb from her stomach. It was as if to give news of the assumption could upset her/it in the good or in the evil. To give news of it to him, above all, that so much had shared of his/her whole existence.
«Hi, stronzetta.»
The answer came sudden. A bold masculine voice, that gave her to his/her way the welcome one.
«To the buonora. Have I perhaps interrupted something?»
«Some that yes: you have interrupted my meditation.»
«Oh, excuse me! At least you have thrown the sciacquone?»
Laughed at taste the tenebrous interlocutor.
«You/he/she cannot be hidden you nothing, true little sister?»
«I know you from the birth.»
And it was true. Helen had come to the world first; it was still in the room birth when Angel had put out the crapino, fidgety to follow his/her sister in the new adventure. Angel: it called this way it in my honor; Helen, instead, in honor of the beauty. His/her parents thought about having made an autonomous choice; but, as all the deadly, autonomous they were not: that two names luciferini was directly rained in their heads by me.
«Then you are, inside or out?» he/she asked him pursuing her/it.
Helen didn't hide a certain irritation.
«Thing you ask me him to do? You know him/it that you/they had already assumed me. I had only to accept the charge.»
«In fact I didn't report me to them. I reported me to you.»
The irritation became resentment.
«Stop her/it with these discourses» it tried to catechize him/it. «I have already served my choice as a piece, we have spoken of it more times.»
«And is it what you wanted, correct?»
Helen delayed. It was what wanted. But because it labored so to repeat him/it once more, as if it were really that the replica of too much?
«We have already spoken of it» it still hissed. «And then it deals with my life. You are my brother, not my father, neither my husband.»
«You would have need both of the one and of the other. Your brain must be held some to brake and well driven from who would know whether to use better it.»
«To use him/it?» You/he/she could not avoid to howl calling attentions from the passer-bys back. It hastened and it tried to calm down himself/herself/themselves, at least for pretense. «It is this that you think of me, true? An investment for the future, a factory of satisfactions? For you and for all self I am always that good that passes the assignments. Beh, has done my way this time.»
They spent then endless instants of silence. Angel knew not to have to do anything else other than to attend the exhaustion of I discharge him/it. They didn't last too much never, it was not in the character.
«You have ended?» it whispered brotherly, before sinking better. «You know thing good I report me.»
Serpentine insinuation day-dreams. Helen you have to face a motion of disgust: he/she knew well it yes, an outrageous desire that had never abandoned Angel. But it hoped that, at least for affection, you/he/she would not have thrown anymore out it.
Disturbance was struck dumb her/it.
«Helen, is still there?» you have to pursue his/her brother.
«I have already told you that the search doesn't interest me.»
He/she affirmed definite.
And it was true: chairman, correlatore, assistants you launch you/they were lavished for holding her/it in the laboratory, because it continued the job on the transdifferenziazione of the cells staminali in the stroma of the bone marrow in cells of fabric neurale.
Profit for the human kind, told her, pursuing her but not profit for itself, recepiva the balky researcher. It repeated about ten and about ten times a week the same trial, with the same identical results; when it seemed that something changed it was because errors were verified in the procedure. And on every of that trials three converged, four, at times five pairs of eyes, connected to brains that elaborated again the failures, to consciences that them somatizzavano and to mouths that divulged them to ears connected to the same brains whose eyes had already seen everything.
It was from the end of the high school that didn't believe in the science as viatico anymore to resolve the evil of the world. And the show offered her from the laboratory didn't do what its doubts to fortify.
It was so that its thesis refolded toward the popular one and those flies, you already study and you exploit to the improbable one, they were I sprout him/it for a pleasant dollied on the history of the genetics of the last decades. A disappointing thesis, at the end of a triumphal ride among the most disparate examinations: of however, mine beloved calculator had realized very well not to need a genial thesis to get the maximum one some votes with praise however.
But he didn't treat only of this.
You knew him/it and Angel knew above all it.
It very still flows between the sky and the earth, dominion of eternal and unchangeable corporate body, able for wish or laxity to condition the to act some men, and, because no, the de
stinies of the planet. They winks, they tries, they redeems and they misleads at the same time, pure light and pure eroticism. The world them he/she wants messengers, the Creative subjects, celestial bureaucrats able render insane those people to which you/they reveal him, more for jest that for vocation. I was among them, I was the first one.
And now, a deadly that brings their name monkeys the prerogatives of it, so harshly you have been conquering on the field for the day of the creation.
For very less, others would already have been struck by lightning.
But him no. He is my favorite Child. And you/he/she is talking to her, my Daughter, the only beloved.
They can talk of sky and earth of life and death. And of resurrezione of the bodies.
«You know him/it that for us it is a disappointment to know out you» it added him.
Helen could not pretend anymore than not to understand: the abyss the he protected from now on, impossible to overcome him/it with a leap, fatal to fall you inside. To turn the heels and to knowingly abandon him/it, here is the street.
«I am out, Angel. Done a reason, your friends and you of it.»
«They are also friends your.»
«I don't want to speak of it anymore, have you understood?» it howled of anger and pain. «Hold you your follies. That that you propose me is not search: it is a crime. And I don't want to have us nothing to whether to do.»
«Ok, ok!» It tried Angel to embank that river in flood full of suffering, to soothe a herd of frightened horses to death. «Now calmed. We don't speak of it more.»
There was something in his/her voice of disarming simplicity, of rasserenante confidence, of found again intimacy. It was a warm voice, deep, from actor, a voice able to fill a stage and to also involve the most indifferent audiences. But it was also the voice of the infancy, of the puberty, of the adolescence and of the youth. and now also of the maturity; a voice that you/he/she had always accompanied her footsteps, to which it grabbed on every qual it turns you/he/she had needed it.
Angel had always succeeded in reassuring his/her sister, since when the childish fear, that doesn't understand and it fears the unknown one, had started to turn himself/herself/themselves into that deeper, more adult, that understands what it is and it has good motive to fear him/it.
As the nights of storm, diabolic epifanie of lights and dins, of of the in war among them on the heads of those people that were babies, but that, lost the innocence, they escape struggle you learn him to which are forced to assist.
And sweet Helen, escaped then, from your loneliness, from that bed that it was for you a constraint, while everything around they reboiled the elements. Of there, really in the bed close to yours, it lay serene your brother, the angel that you believed the sky had given you.
He didn't cry, he didn't tremble, almost that its ten years were more of yours.
You crawled the barefoot footsies, the cold of the floor shook your fragile body with a quiver, that salivates up to the abdomen from the legs. You slipped under those covers, you lay down you in the bed and huddled up, you stuck to his body, that aroused him.
It welcomed you in silence; a hand encircled you the life, yours it grazed its abdomen its side. The soft skin as yours emitted the heat of the life; the cold stopped, the troublesome winds, the sudden shines, the tears in the silence didn't torment you anymore.
Yet that quiver to the abdomen didn't pass yet.
«Now that you do?»
The voice of Angel broke the silence. The sky was clear, the triumphant sun; the family noises of motorists incazzatis identified a reality until too known.
The last reverberation of that quiver to the abdomen was again swallowed by the past. Now only the present, a banal, agonizing present.
«I go my home» he/she answered definite.
«You didn't have to pass to find me? You had said that we would have celebrated» he/she insinuated Angel.
«With how much you have made me turn of boxes? No, thanks. You have already ruined me the day. To house of mother I will spend another time.»
«Still in this house of mother? It looks that now it is my house» it replied him hiding the anger under a bark of affection.
«I regret to contradict you: it is and house of mother remains always. You are only a guest, if not a parasite.»
He/she sketched with brotherly patience, in front of the usual remonstrations maternalistiche of an uncertain sister still on his/her own role. It was unbearable for Angel: whatever woman enters your life you/he/she feels however always the physical need to educate you. It is troubles to affirm your independence of judgment in front of so much passion civilizzatrice.
«Mother is away» you/he/she restarted to explain for the nth time. «It is around for the world with dad to enjoy himself/herself/themselves the life. It doesn't return anymore and if it returns it will be alone for the wishes of native. Therefore, every of us has his/her own house.»
His/her own house: an apartment of one hundred and it passes meters you square in center to Milan him, a great studio apartment a bystander of the other infognato to the extreme south outskirts her. And none of the two owner: she fortunately unstitched a correct lease, he lived to I gobble up in the ancestral abode.
«You have won a beautiful terno to the lottery, viziatissimo pupattolo» it sentenced pedantic Helen.
«You could also be us you but you had hurry of andar street. And then mother is happy so.»
«And then that God has him in glory.»
Neither more attended replicas. Red button.
Closed so the conversation, with ecumenicalism and resignation, thanking the usual Old fortunate, whose name is on the mouths of all despite in an impetus of arrogance expressly had him/it forbidden once. And me, that so much has intrigued because the almost derisive lease of my dear pits, that I have given parents to their darlings that shiver of a second youth, able to bring them to turn the wonder of the planet with the enthusiasm of two fidanzatinis, freeing so for them an enviable apartment, assists as usual impotent to the praises for Him. But at the end, you will see that also they will know whom to thank: I am sure to deserve me him.
I have given them health, not resignation. I have given them intelligence, not modesty. I have given them comfort, not poverty, neither opulence. I have given them dignity, not subjugation.
But above all I have given them two parents, not a family.
And of these fortunes, you/they should be able to enjoy everybody.
Bad Invisible Teachers Page 3