The large, muscular-armed chimpanzee advanced across the grass-covered clearing, keeping a few meters away from the body of water to his right.
Walking on his knuckles at a leisurely pace he then reached an area abutting some tall trees, whose shade managed to provide shelter from the sun's inclement rays.
Most of his group, consisting of just over a dozen chimpanzees equally divided between males and females, cubs excluded, was gathered there, clustered tightly around a particularly authoritative-looking specimen.
At the sight of the newcomer, the one who gave the impression that he was the leader of the pack, he prematurely interrupted the grooming session, and drawing the arm that was being groomed back to himself, he began to peer at it with interest.
''Armed with the support he has earned through food exchanges, favors, and long grooming sessions, Buck believes he is finally ready to play his game to become the new Alpha male of the group''
The words of the voice in the background, busy describing what was happening on screen, were accompanied by a high-pitched squeak from the kitchen.
Intrigued, Alessandro stopped staring at the TV and turned toward the source of the noise, catching his mother moving the pantry door back and forth. Having confirmed that the creaking was repeated such and such each time, Elisa gave a sigh of resignation and closed the door without comment.
Alessandro went back to staring at the screen, where Buck had now stood up on both legs, and was making particularly intense noises with his lips stretched out.
''...it is clear that this is too great a threat for Ratchet to have the luxury of ignoring it. At stake is his role as Alpha.''
The authoritative-looking chimpanzee stood up in turn, and emitting calls that showcased his deep voice, he took to waving his arms vigorously. Following closely behind him, two other specimens, the first one with a particularly robust physique and the second one small and with a pair of beady eyes, reached Ratchet and joined their voices to his.
''Cunning Jacob and strong Mike are the first to take to his side.''
Another pair of chimpanzees got up from the bed of dry leaves where they were resting and went to stand beside the Alpha male.
''Then it is the turn of the females, especially matriarch Lara, accompanied as always by the favorite Maya. It is time for Buck to lay his cards on the table.''
At this point the challenger began to wave his arms, emitting increasingly intense vocalizations, in what sounded like the surreal imitation of an orator engaged in haranguing an audience. Members of the group watched him in curiosity as he tried to get their attention, urging them to support him.
Since the dominant feeling among the spectators seemed to be reluctance, Buck decided to redouble his efforts, and in the meantime even tried to make eye contact with a trio of males seated in the front rows.
However, even when these noticed him, none of them had the courage to maintain eye contact for more than a few fleeting moments, as if simply showing solidarity with him represented an improper act.
Although it appeared unmistakable that he was disappointed, Buck again tried to engage other chimpanzees, but just as had just happened with the trio, the rest of the group was no longer convinced. Twenty seconds elapsed, and at the stroke of one minute it became clear that the game was now over.
''His alliances proved weak,'' commented the female voice in the background. ''The group chose Ratchet.''
In a pathetic attempt to vent his frustration, Buck slammed his fists on the ground, then spun around shrieking in anger.
Taking advantage of his distraction, Ratchet burst out of the group at incredible speed, and after charging at the challenger he delivered a powerful shoulder strike that sent him tumbling across the lawn.
Squeaking with fear Buck quickly got back to his feet, but when he had raised his gaze and found that towering over him was his Alpha, he bowed his head as readily as he had raised it, ending the duel before it even began.
Always keeping his eyes downcast, Buck extended his arm toward Ratchet as if he wanted to shake his hand.
''By now isolated Buck is forced to show submission to Ratchet, acknowledging his leadership''
For several seconds Ratchet merely scrutinized the former challenger from top to bottom, but finally decided to comply with his request by giving him a tap on the palm of his paw. Having received the forgiveness he had hoped for, Buck walked away at a slow pace in the same direction from which he had come, being very careful to keep his gaze always on the ground.
''Ratchet agrees to pardon and Buck withdraws. The coup has failed''
He had just begun to skirt the stream when he passed by a small group of females intent on grooming each other, all the while tending to their young.
It was then that Buck pounced on her.
Performing a lightning dash, he threw himself at the first female he could get his hands on and began beating her savagely, and then did the same to the others, who, terrified by that totally unexpected assault, could do nothing but make a hasty escape in an attempt to protect their children.
''Buck lashes out by wreaking havoc in the group of females''
Meanwhile, as Buck lashed out at the last female who had not yet managed to escape, Ratchet nonchalantly returned to his command post, where he resumed being groomed as if the interruption just before had never happened.
With the females now out of reach Buck retreated to the opposite end of the clearing, and after retrieving a branch laden with fruit he began to eat it with a dejected air.
''A glut of ripe figs is the only consolation on this unlucky day''
Breaking away from the group gathered around Ratchet, a chimpanzee with a bald head and completely white facial hair moved forward in Buck's direction, stopping little more than a couple of meters away from the would-be usurper.
At that point she stretched out her arm toward him, and opening a mouth inside which there were very few teeth left, she emitted some guttural noises incredibly similar to a kind of bizarre laughter.
''Apparently, old Rufus seems intent on putting his finger on it.''
In the face of such blatant mockery, Buck responded by turning his back on the elderly chimpanzee, but without letting go of the branch of figs with which he was stuffing himself.
''Buck, however, pretends not to see it and continues to eat.''
The frame returned to focus on the Alpha male group, now busy playing with his own finger with a baby boy who was in his mother's arms.
For a few seconds Ratchet interrupted the game and stared at Buck, but when he saw that his rival was still eating on the sidelines, he looked away.
''Ratchet watches the scene from afar without showing particular interest, however, now he knows who he will have to watch out for in the future. The challenge for dominance today has been won, but tomorrow...who can tell?''
''Couldn't you put on something a little less depressing?" asked Alice, sitting at the other end of the L-shaped sofa.
Alessandro turned toward his sister, but she continued to keep her eyes fixed on Art Workshop - Handbook of Practical and Theoretical Sculpture, without meeting his gaze.
Deciding to indulge her he grabbed the remote control, and just as on the screen Buck abruptly turned to throw Rufus a fig in the face, he tuned to the first news channel he could think of.
As soon as the TV display lit up again, a man with oriental features dressed in an elegant dark gray suit appeared in the center of the frame, intent on speaking over a stage. The caption that appeared at the bottom of the screen read:
Premier Nakayama's press conference at the ASEAN summit in Singapore
''...moreover, we renew our call for the international community to recognize the Somali Movement for Unity and Reconciliation as the only legitimate interlocutor, and to provide it with all the support it deserves so that it can lead the country towards a lasting and stable peace.''
Looking away from the audience that was listening to him in religious silence, Nakayama took a quick peek at the podium in front of him, and then resumed the speech left interrupted.
''The massacre carried out yesterday in Ufeyn only confirmed for the umpteenth time the brutality of the Dahir regime and the SLA. If action is not taken now, that the conditions still exist to do so, we risk plunging the entire country into an abyss from which...''
''I said less depressing, not more,'' Alice said sarcastically, shooting him an eloquent look.
"Do you want the remote control?" proposed Alessandro impatiently, extending his arm toward her.
Alice seemed about to reply, but was interrupted when the bedroom door opened and her father came out.
''Yes, yes, all right.'' Keeping the Smartphone glued to his ear Umberto walked down the hallway and entered the living room. ''That's fine.'' He exchanged a glance with his wife. ''Okay, say hi to Marta a lot. ''Bye.''
''So what did he say?" asked Elisa, as soon as she saw him lower his cell phone.
''You won't believe it,'' he said, placing the Smartphone on the table. ''He was going to slip me the Galas at two-fifty.''
''Two fifty?!" blurted out Elisa in shock. ''This is a joke. At Quickly we sell them for two and twenty!
''That's what I told him, too,'' Umberto revealed to her. ''Who do you want me to buy them if I agree to buy them at retail prices?''
''For the rest instead?
Umberto shrugged his shoulders.
''The usual,'' he replied dejectedly, ''half acceptable and half disaster.''
Elisa approached him and then placed her hand on his shoulder.
''Matilde told me that next month we will have discounts in the fruit and vegetable department,'' he explained in an encouraging tone. ''Maybe there will be some Marcodowns.''
''Never mind,'' he retorted, shaking his head, ''those operate on another level, and anyway...''
He stopped suddenly and pointed his gaze toward the area of wall next to the kitchen window, only to find himself staring at the circle-shaped halo that the clock had left imprinted on the wall.
''Wait a second, what time is it?''
Before he could retrieve the Smartphone from the table, Alessandro already had the answer.
''Eight thirty-two o'clock,'' he anticipated immediately after checking the time on the TV.
''And you don't tell me anything?!" rebuked Umberto in a good-natured tone. ''Go ahead, put on RaiNews, it should have started by now.''
Alessandro did as requested, while in the meantime his father paced the living room with the same joyful enthusiasm of a child on Christmas Day and then sat down next to him.
''You remembered the bottle, didn't you, honey?" asked Elisa, when his wife also took a seat on the sofa.
''He is cool, quiet,'' she reassured him.
''Perfect,'' Umberto commented, rubbing his hands together. ''Tonight we really need to celebrate. For once in a while that ... ah, here it is, it's starting.''
Meanwhile, on the screen, the image of the announcer who was commenting on events from the studio was replaced by a shot taken live from inside a room packed with journalists.
The focus of attention was all on a long table at which just then four women and a man in his sixties dressed in formal attire began to sit. The latter took a seat in the chair in the center and after running a hand through his dyed black hair brought the microphone closer to his lips.
''Good evening and thank you all for coming.''
Noticing that his voice was hoarse, he gave a couple of cough taps, although when he resumed his speech the situation did not improve much.
''As already anticipated this morning, I am pleased to announce that the preparatory work for the next congress is now complete and that the official date has been set for the end of June.''
He coughed again and passed a clipboard to the young girl on his right.
''Now, as to how this will be done, I invite you to open the files that were provided at the entrance...''
Ten minutes later Alessandro had stopped following the live broadcast, preferring to start leafing through Fundamentals of Mathematics - Volume Four, a reading he had initially abandoned in favor of the documentary on chimpanzees, but which compared to that tedious bureaucratic speech appeared surprisingly exciting.
In the meantime, Alice continued to study her Handbook of Practical and Theoretical Sculpture without comment, interrupting her reading every two or three minutes only for the time strictly necessary to turn a distracted glance in the direction of the screen.
As for their parents, both Umberto and his wife watched Secretary Cappellini's speech with quiet interest, although much of Elisa's attention was on her husband, whom she checked at regular intervals with the same apprehension reserved for a bomb ready to explode.
After all, one could not blame him. He had been waiting for that moment for a week, although he had actually had the dream of seeing the executive fall since the day of the confidence in the chambers.
''A government whose choices I don't agree with 99 percent, and that 1 percent that advances finds me only partially agreeing. Even if they don't realize it in the end.'' That was the diplomatic phrase with which he usually responded whenever someone asked him his opinion on the matter.
To be fair, Alessandro did not doubt that if any minister had casually let the phrase ''the sky above us'' slip out, Umberto would probably have immediately run to the window to make sure that was still the case.
The rest of the family did not think otherwise, although they had different ways of dealing with reality.
Elisa for example seemed to have simply put her heart at rest, accepting the situation as something almost inevitable. Like the cold of winter or the mugginess of summer. Phenomena of which one had no control and toward which the only rational response was adaptation.
Not a very dissimilar discourse for Alice, who indeed carefully avoided broaching the subject with any member of the family. Whether out of actual disinterest, or a desire not to provoke a nervous breakdown in her father, remained a mystery.
Instead, Alessandro had managed to avoid getting an ulcer by focusing all his attention solely on foreign policy.
Pretending that Italy was a kind of magical land floating in the sky, he enjoyed playing the role of the invisible observer, who from the heights of that fairy place straddling the clouds, scrutinized the events of the world below through the lens of a telescope.
Reflecting on what was happening, and imagining the alternative scenarios that could have occurred, if only he had been given the chance to decide instead of those who really held power.
Conceiving uchronies. Definitely his favorite hobby.
Given the current scenario, however, at least for that day perhaps he could have also afforded the luxury of coming down from his own enchanted refuge and focusing on what was happening in his own country, rather than thousands of miles away.
After all, for the opposition, a more favorable scenario could not have dawned. Agreed that only last month one of their most important regional coordinators had had to resign after it was discovered that he had awarded several large contracts to his cousin, but while shameful, even this scandal was not enough to overshadow what had happened the week before.
In the political world, taking bribes was an all too common practice, and for many of those who lent themselves to it represented an almost trivial act in itself, performed as casually as ordinary people buy bread or pay their bills.
However, for four ministers to be caught simultaneously at the bar and in broad daylight, haggling over the amount of their respective dues with an undercover carabiniere, seemed to be a tad excessive. Even for a public accustomed for decades to expecting anything and getting worse.
Following the exit of as many as two parties, albeit modest in size, from the majority coalition, there were now no obstacles to the fall of the government. The only step still to be filed before that happened was the confidence vote scheduled for the next day. Which of course implied the negative opinion of the opposition party.
In theory this would have been an obvious fact, and in fact Cappellini himself, along with almost the entire political world, had wasted no time in denouncing the seriousness of the episode.
Nonetheless, after more than a quarter of an hour of soporific arguments concerning how the party's next congress should be held, the secretary still had not touched on the subject, and to be honest, did not even seem to have the intention of doing so.
''...and so, yes I would say that's it,'' Cappellini commented, closing the file. ''Now let's move on to the questions.''
''Am I wrong or did he not mention it?" asked Alice, frowning.
''No, not even a nod,'' Alessandro confirmed.
''Perhaps he considers it so obvious that he did not feel it necessary to reiterate it,'' Elisa speculated cautiously.
Both of her two sons turned almost in unison toward her. Judging by their expressions it seemed that they thought they were more likely to see cedar flowing from the sink faucet.
''It was just a theory,'' Elisa justified herself defensively.
''It's a tactic,'' Umberto concluded, nodding with conviction, ''he preferred to be asked directly to keep the attention high during the first part.''
He looked away from the TV and when he saw the skepticism on his children's faces he added, ''I know, he could have saved it, but the important thing is that he says it.''
Meanwhile, the reporter who had been selected from among his colleagues in the room stood up to ask his own question.
''Alberto Cornacchia of La Civiltà,'' he announced, bringing the microphone close to his lips. ''I couldn't help but notice that you changed your tie. It's a really nice tie.''
Several giggles echoed through the room, which seemed to put Cappellini and the women at his side in slight embarrassment, although the secretary tried to hide it by giving a few coughing taps.
Sensing what must have happened, Alessandro ventured to peek out of the corner of his eye to the right. As he feared, his father's complexion had taken on a vivid scarlet hue.
''Did you wear it because you are convinced it is a special day?" continued Cornacchia in an adulatory tone.
''That's it, now we're there,'' Umberto said excitedly, leaning forward.
''Well, of course,'' Cappellini replied, buttoning his jacket so as to hide his red polka-dot tie. ''The launching of the next congress is a very important day.''
''Imbecile, they are all there for one reason,'' Umberto hissed, gnashing his teeth. ''Nobody gives a damn about your damn congress!''
A hand rose among the audience, and a moment later a female voice resounded through the hall.
''Sorry, actually we would like to--''
''And you would be...'' Cappellini stopped her, squaring her with condescension.
The girl who had spoken stood up.
''Laura Gatti from Update Me!" he explained, speaking into the microphone. ''I wanted to know what...''
The secretary did not allow her to finish the sentence.
''This is the third time he's come to one of my press conferences, and he's interrupted me on every occasion,'' he noted with an irritated air. ''I see that a leopard can't change its spots.''
''I did not interrupt her,'' Gatti retorted calmly, ''I just wanted to know if...''
''Next,'' Cappellini dismissed her by adjusting his glasses on his nose.
The reporter returned to her seat, while a colleague sitting a couple of rows away snapped to his feet.
''Alberto Giussani of the National Gazette,'' the man introduced himself. ''What will you vote for in the next trust?''
Cappellini widened his eyes and cleared his throat. It was obvious that he would have gladly done without answering that question, but realizing that he could not maintain silence for too long, he finally decided to speak.
"The next trust?" he repeated, falling from the clouds.
''No, my grandfather in a wheelbarrow,'' blurted out Umberto indignantly. ''Yes, trust!
Giussani, however, did not mention the grandparents in a wheelbarrow, preferring instead to simply state, ''The trust scheduled for tomorrow in parliament.''
''Ah, sure,'' Cappellini said nervously adjusting his glasses on his nose. ''Well, that is...''
''Go ahead, say it,'' Umberto encouraged him by leaning out further from the sofa.
''We are of the opinion that it would be better to listen first to what the prime minister will have to say during his address to the chambers in order to know what line to take''
''He is the head of the government!" ranted Umberto turning purple. ''What do you want me to say! Vote for me or the country blows up! Do you really need to wait until tomorrow! Even a dumb child understands that!''
''But you have always maintained that this government was a serious detriment to the country,'' Giussani reminded him.
''Yes, I said that,'' the secretary confirmed unwillingly. ''But you also have to evaluate the context and...''
"Context?!" exploded Umberto beside himself.
''Honey, let me hear,'' Elisa scolded him, touching his shoulder.
Umberto gave a long sigh full of suppressed anger, however, he did not reply.
''...an intolerable disrespect for parliament,'' Cappellini continued, trying to appear confident. ''Not to mention that that bill represented...''
Gatti's hand rose again.
''If the prime minister merely makes symbolic openings will you vote against it or not?" he asked all at once.
Cappellini frowned.
''I told her to...''
''Is a possible abstention on your part on the table?" another reporter interrupted him, standing up.
''Here...'' Cappellini stammered uncomfortably.
''Will you vote for it?" asked a woman's voice in the middle of the audience.
''We feel it would be inappropriate,'' Cappellini replied, looking away.
''Inappropriate?!" exclaimed Umberto snapping to his feet. ''He is your opponent, you idiot!!!''
''Honey, the neighbors will hear,'' Elisa warned him in an understanding tone.
''Let them hear it!" retorted Umberto scornfully. ''I bet they'll be happy now! They gave them the vote and here's the result! A stone is more useful!''
Since no one inside the press room was following any kind of order anymore, journalists' voices had begun to overlap with each other, making it difficult for Cappellini to cope with the volume of questions coming at him from all sides.
In an attempt to restore calm, one of the women seated at the secretary's side tapped her hand on the microphone, but all she managed to accomplish was to add noise to noise. Cappellini cleared his throat, and although no one heard him because of the din, it slowly began to diminish.
''Knowing that your vote will be decisive, if there is no significant change in the government's agenda will you deny him confidence or abstain?" asked a voice in the middle of the audience once silence had returned.
Cappellini cleared his throat one more time.
''Say it!" ranted Umberto as he knelt in front of the TV. ''Carrion say it!
He grabbed the top edge of the screen and gave it a shake.
''It's easy, come on, it's so easy! It's being served to you on a silver platter! Do something useful for once!''
''Um...''
Cappellini adjusted his glasses on his nose and after running a hand through his hair finally decided to answer.
''We do not believe there are conditions to throw the country into a crisis in the dark that would risk...''
Sensing imminent danger, Elisa got up from the couch and tried to touch her husband's shoulder, but it was too late. Before Cappellini even finished his sentence, Umberto sprang to his feet and exploded into a scream of frustration.
''Ah!!!'' he ranted, putting his hands in his hair. ''I don't believe it, I don't believe it! Not even this! Not even this! It was the minimum wage, the base, the crumb! Instead, nothing, nothing!''
He curved his back so that he was face to face with Cappellini's close-up that appeared in the center of the screen.
''But how does he do it! But how does he do it, my God! You might as well tear up your membership and sign up with those others. Save your time. Save my time! Everybody's time! Do us all a favor and go jump in a ditch!''
''Honey, come on,'' Elisa pleaded with him.
''Fan...''
Grabbing him by the shoulder and giving a resounding cough Elisa managed to persuade him to look her in the face.
The look with which she glowered at him through the lenses of her spectacles seemed to dissolve all the fury that until a moment before inflamed Umberto's face, who then lowered his head.
''Yes, you are right,'' he admitted in a conciliatory tone. ''Now I'm going to...''
He took a deep breath and then threw all the air out of his lungs.
''I will calm down,'' he concluded quietly as he nodded his head. ''I'll calm down now.
Alice crossed eyes with her brother and turned an eloquent nod in the direction of the hallway at the end of the living room.
Alessandro nodded in response.
''Mom, can we finish studying in the room?" asked Alice cautiously. ''Or shall we toast anyway?
Elisa turned toward the sofa where her children were sitting.
''No, don't worry,'' he said thoughtlessly. ''Um, go ahead.'' She returned her focus to her husband and rested a hand on his shoulder. ''Good night.''
''Night mom,'' Alice and Alessandro said in unison. ''Night dad.''
''Night guys,'' Umberto replied in a mournful tone.
Taking their respective books with them, the two reached the short hallway leading to the other rooms in the apartment, and entered the small room equipped with a bunk bed that they shared together.
They had just crossed the threshold when Alberto Cornacchia's voice from the TV in the living room echoed back to them through the hallway.
''If the confidence in the government passes, where will you spend Mardi Gras?''
Umberto's scream reached them moments later.
''For fuck's sake...''
Alice closed the door just in time to prevent them from hearing the rest as well.
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top