not easily forget the story of Andrea, in fact I remember with clarity the day we met. I just finished my first day of wandering, the time spent at regular intervals, punctuated by calls abroad and individuals that emerged from the low marshes of my sordid past. A sunny afternoon Comrade George called me ordering him to keep it free, because this time
needed my help ... "Beautiful, we need today, Franco is making a move ..."
"A move," I replied, "damn you, but I have to study ... "
" Do not make me laugh, you know that you do not need anything. Will pick the two ... "
" Okay ... "I answered the phone while lowered in a state of trance.
George was like clockwork, and Franco van parked in front of the rickety door of my condominium. They handed me a beer em'indicarono the back of the van, because there were some furniture to maintain, "especially in the fuck of bends," as George explained in a friendly Savoy. He obeyed with beer in their hands, then opened the door and found myself in front of the emblematic figure of Andrea. This came immediately and thanked me happy, because the City had finally decided to allocate public housing. Could well leave the Circle Amendola, an old section of the party where he had lived thanks to some good-hearted fellow.
"Damn, that section he was not comfortable, but better benches in Piazza del ..." He uttered this sentence with his disarming smile, as if living on the benches of the Piazza del Carmine was like sleeping in a hostel where you are not the all at ease. The appearance of good
Andrea struck me immediately, as it struck me that among the bony fingers clutched a soggy cigarette, but he continued undaunted to smoke. In addition to physical, facial features and clothing was strikingly similar to Toto, but much uglier, and with a look that reveals a dramatic reduction to be beaten dog. His clothing was the clothing of the classic "last", a special uniform that despite obvious differences are similar in some respects. The jacket dirty, the shoes with the tip upward for too much use, the collar of his shirt dirty and dilapidated, the sweater and ripped holes were indisputable indicators of belonging to a class, now become my adopted family ...
The journey to get to the "home" was a devastating interstellar travel, in fact we had to use all our resources in order to overcome those heavy cardboard furniture. Every so often the poor Andrea was brutally crushed by a table, raped by a chair, humiliated by a library, slapped on a cot. The hairpin turns were our crucifixion, the sudden braking of the red-hot iron in our meat skewered, and the rude gesture that launched George augment our despair. Franco was driving like a maniac, and was not at all concerned about our conditions, similar to those of two young hubs, armor of good will have to deal with a devastating tropical storm. From time to time Andrea stretched his skinny hand, and I take it back from that mass of wood and cardboard that it intended to reduce it to mush miserable throbbing. He tried to tell me thank you, or so it seemed, because his language was inevitably cut off from fear, and fear of a new jolt. I gave her kicks and punches to the front sheet, screaming, shouting, shook his fist in the rearview mirror, stage unnecessary faces. Franco then I looked through the mirror with his cold eyes, leaned slightly to the right arm and reached out his middle finger. Meanwhile vehemently trod on the brake pedal, and almost "nailing" the goal ... we found ourselves unexpectedly
When I came down from almost half did not lose his balance, and I had to put George in the same instant he cursed. Andrea, however, rushed out of the van crashing into the asphalt, and we had lift almost lifeless. It was a small bird, weighing up to fifty pounds, and nose that did nothing but accentuate its character from volatile undernourished. As soon as he was standing there with his eyes looked mad, Franco then offered him a cigarette, but he proudly replied that "he had his." That fear, and wonder ... He had the "Four Nations" without the filter, the same who once smoked my poor uncle murdered by a terrible cancer ... Cigarettes Andrea produced a nauseating smell that seemed to come from the most dangerous refineries of the Gulf of Cagliari , so I had to get away and only then became aware of the neighborhood where we were ... I do not mean to be overly dramatic, but this afternoon we looked like happened in some other region of the earth, perhaps the poorest in Latin America or Africa. The neighborhood was the important achievement of illogical choices of some local governments, which had decided to barricaded portion of the population (of course, the poorest) in a sort of ghetto, which held sway in the popular buildings claims, in which there was the shred of a pharmacy, a supermarket, a hell of asylum, in which there was neither a school, let alone a bus, or one of those tragic suburban churches that put him in a moody black ...
When I turned to my right I saw a huge rectangular square of concrete, in which some boys amused themselves to train a mighty pit bul through a tire hanging from a swing. The animal jumped and bit his suspension with the air force while the boys, who wore steel jackets "Dainese" and wraparound glasses, hit him with some blows, commenting enthusiastically jumps poor animal crazy now. The square was strewn with debris, broken glass, stones, shards of glass glinting in the sun, and the whole presided over some totally charred motorcycles, which were proudly displayed as a stylized sculptures of futuristic ... Meanwhile, the surrounding buildings came from the original soundtrack. A family had decided to start a bloody rebellion home, and the noise seemed that this fight was no holds barred. The wife seemed to have the upper hand over a man, possibly drunk or disrupted by some other self-destructive substance. Despite the whole neighborhood was full of the anger home, the boys who beat the "pit" there were careful, moreover, the episode was only for their daily routine. They continued to laugh and joke with each other as if nothing had happened and while they watched stunned, my attention was caught by the impressive show that human shoots on balconies of those horrible buildings.
at a balcony completely moved nonchalantly chipped a girl who wore a towel on his head, skinny, pale as a vampire in a crisis of results. He held a cigarette between his fingers, and watered the flowers with a very special posture: hands on hips, cigarette in mouth hours, looked like a man in the act of urinating. For a few seconds I was enchanted by it, but she turned suddenly and while my eyes were projected to other horizons seemed to me to see her touching the so-called "jewels". Only then, including the situation, so my eyes were able to run into another show at all pleasant. Downstairs a rather fat woman and had supported its disproportionate legs on the ledge of the balcony, and as if nothing was intent to shorten the nails. As I watched this further representation of the total lack of femininity, I could not help but notice the people who entered and exited from the building it was in the apartment of Andrea: indifferent passing of authentic walking corpses, carried by a strong catalyst to places and people certainly absurd. Skinny, emaciated skin, eyes sunken in the orbits away, leaned forward, lips or lips that disappeared, venereal disease or visceral who lord it over their bodies as dangerous cleavers ready to break inconsistent on their necks. Gait tired, showed the same body positioning fate of certain death, sooner or later they would be caught with no way out. I was particularly struck by a factor: these people (and the word citizen is used in case) did not seem to have any age, younger people seemed older, and older people almost young. However it was impossible to pinpoint their age, because it could prove a thirty sixty years, while a sessant'enne, on account of a teenage hair or some sparkling earrings, could prove less. In short, these were people who did not belong more to the time or the seasons.
"lore, come on," said George, "so that we go away from this place, damn it!" I
posizionai at the van, and waited for me to pass the first mobile Franco. It was an old table packed with dust, which could carry with enormous effort on the stairs. The entrance hall of the palace looked like a faithful representation of Dante's circle: the walls were peeling, mold had decided to establish uncontested estates on the walls, a penetrating smell of urine will upset the nostrils gelandoti blood, and then of course papers, some condoms , a towel and some blood-stained syringes, however, remain a constant. While the posavo foothold on a little girl stood before me. I stopped to recover from fatigue and amazement, and this looked at me with sad eyes. In one hand he held a small blue bag containing some kind of junk, while the other was a small doll anointed, similar to those that used to be "winning" in the roaring of the drums Dixan. I let her go, and if I had not had that mass of wood in his hands I would certainly stroked her hair, maybe I would post a question, maybe I tried a trick to make her smile. I simply shuffling a "hello" and she just replied with a smile, ready to catch insects in the garden full of debris, filth and slush, with its pale green eyes and his hands from Scandinavian fairy ...
A plan, two floors, three floors and Andrea finally here, that wait for me in the position of coffee before the door, a huge door, armored enormous and powerful, the classic door that awaits you at the end of the sky. This, in fact, was not a real door, but a sort of shield against interstellar atomic attacks, that perhaps only to the sound of TNT ogliastrino could cross. Caught my breath before the improbable figure of Andrea, and as I pointed to the bowed gigantic object.
"Andre, and this door ... Mamma mia, it's huge ... "
" He put the City, "he said satisfied," the apartment has been conquered before. Look at that, see? They tried to break into the gun ... "The verb" conquered "meant that the property was already occupied. I do not know why that would use military jargon, perhaps he was influenced by the overpowering presence of the door. Andrea pointed out to me after a few seconds three deep infossature not far from the lock, apparently caused by a firearm. Andrea looked at with concern, but he returned my frightened eyes with joy. Had lost some teeth, but that smile was like a sunset in the bay, and I could not help but feel an unreasonable sense of peace and tranquility, as if those bruises were a commonly accepted element, as the screams continued to come from 'apartment next ... Yes, in fact, had finally managed to find accommodation, and I could not ruin "his" time with my concerns but, in retrospect, I would do well to worry further.
in prison, while waiting for his turn in the lunchroom, I tried to pass the time looking through the paper. After laughing for the usual antics of local politicians spent the crime, in which I immediately recognized the photo of Andrew, who was lying on a sidewalk stained with blood. His skull had been crushed by a revolver, and the reporter asked, innocently, what they might want from a man who had never harmed anyone, and especially did not have anything. The reporter was not in possession of certain key elements, as Andrea "something" did. The apartment where he lived was now free, and that the killers had more of everything ... The war between the poor is more grim, with even the most silent ...
Vincent M. D'Ascanio. Unpublished 2009.
