Chapter 7 - Secrets

The afternoon classes flowed by as slowly as a river of jam.

Filed philosophy without having absorbed a single word about Hobbes and his ardent passion for absolutism, he then moved on to biology, where the only conclusion he was able to draw from the explanation given by Professor Colombo about the nervous system was that at that moment he wished he didn't have it.

The last lesson of the day was history, but although Cominetti was incredibly adept at making even the most mundane succession to the throne exciting, not even the account of Napoleon's defeat at Leipzig and his exile on the island of Elba proved sufficient to distract him from the pain he felt.

In the short interval between the exit of one teacher and the arrival of the next, Marco tried to question him about what happened during the lunch break, however, each time Alessandro merely answered by shaking his head slightly.

He did not feel ready to broach the subject with fresh bruises still throbbing. Perhaps he never would be.

Although he was seated only a few seats away from them, his gaze did not for a moment rest on any of the members of the trio. In a way it was as if giving in to such a temptation represented something totally inconceivable, on a par with an unbreakable taboo.

The journey home from school was something atrocious.

Exit the classroom.

Descend the stairs one step at a time.

Trying to keep up with Alice who was urging him to hurry.

Getting on the bus.

Endure with stoic resignation the jerks of the vehicle due to bends or potholes in the roadway.

Getting off the bus.

Chatting with his sister while pretending to be perfectly fine, when in fact he would have gladly given up a kidney if it would have allowed him to get through the pain.

Turning into laughter the gasp that escaped his lips when an off-leash Labrador sneakily popped up from around a corner and began to feast on him by resting its paws on his legs.

Enter their apartment building at 53 Turati Street.

Cursing from the bottom of my heart the wretch who had hung the ''OUT OF SERVICE'' sign on the elevator car.

Go up the four floors of stairs to the Olivieri's apartment.

And finally cross the threshold of home.

He spent the rest of the afternoon lying in bed pretending to study, but was interrupted, however, when Umberto returned from the fruit and vegetable store holding up a couple of large crates containing unsold produce from the store, announcing that there were three more left in the car overloaded with oranges now nearing expiration.

After the suffering it had cost him to hold up the overloaded satchel for countless blocks and as many flights of stairs, having to endure that torture as well was something simply sickening.

Twelve minutes and one hundred and sixty-eight steps later, Alessandro laid his own crate on the kitchen table (thank goodness his father had been kind enough to shoulder the greater burden), but no sooner had he straightened his back than an excruciating twinge pierced his right side, tearing a cry of pain from him.

When asked for an explanation that obviously followed, he was able to prove himself skillful enough to pass it all off as an exclamation of astonishment, convincing the family that he had just remembered that he had a geography assignment due the next day.

Like the others, Alice made no comment on the matter, giving the impression that she believed him.

Nonetheless, over the course of the dinner of rigatoni with fancy pesto and seafood salad half a day past its expiration date, both the result of Elisa's unparalleled aptitude for recycling, Alessandro counted no fewer than five occasions when he caught his sister peering at him, although each time he noticed she averted her gaze so casually that he gave the impression that she was not really like that.

He finished double-checking the geography assignment he had already completed on Tuesday night, lingered on the couch for just about ten minutes, listening to his parents debating which of the politicians on a talk show he found most disgusting, and eventually went to bed.

He had just entered the room after turning on the light when the door suddenly closed behind him.

''The geography assignment, huh?

Caught by surprise Alessandro immediately turned around, finding himself staring at Alice, who stood leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, pretending to fall from the clouds.

Alice curved her lips into a sly smile.

''Next time I suggest you come up with a better excuse,'' she suggested to him in a mocking tone. ''You had already done that assignment. You didn't write anything in the notebook tonight.''

''I was wrong,'' Alessandro explained, inventing on the spot.

''Of course,'' Alice confirmed, nodding sarcastically. ''Come on, what happened to you?''

''Nothing,'' Alessandro replied decisively.

Alice's smile faded.

''I wasn't born yesterday.

''And I have no idea what you are talking about,'' Alessandro insisted, straining to appear convincing.

In response Alice took to advancing toward him.

"What do you want to do?" asked Alessandro, backing toward the window.

Alice said nothing, merely walking until she reached him. At that point she lifted her right hand, and with a lightning snap pressed her index finger to his side.

''Shit...''

Alessandro had to bite his tongue to avoid carrying out the expletive, and as soon as he had recovered from his initial shock, he shot a dirty look at Alice.

''What the hell...''

Ignoring his protests, she grabbed a flap from his pajama shirt and lifted it abruptly upward so as to reveal his bare skin.

At the sight of the disturbing hematomas covering most of his torso, Alice squeaked in horror, then stepped back, bringing her hand to her mouth.

"And leave me alone!" blurted Alessandro, tucking his shirt inside his sweatpants.

''They beat you up,'' whispered a shocked Alice.

''No!'' replied Alessandro defensively. ''I fell...down the stairs.''

Alice widened her eyes.

''You're a jerk,'' she concluded dryly.

Letting out a sigh of relief at the narrow escape, Alessandro stuffed his hands in his pockets as he tried to assume a more natural tone.

''Yes, I know, in fact I should have...''

''Not that,'' Alice interrupted him, ''the excuse is dickish.''

And it seemed to you

Furious with himself for not being able to come up with anything better, Alessandro looked away and stared at the floor biting his lip.

''I won't tell anyone,'' Alice promised him in a conciliatory tone.

Alessandro took a deep breath.

''I had a disagreement,'' he admitted vaguely.

''Call it a quarrel.

"I took them, happy?" confessed Alessandro in a stunned manner.

"Who did it?" urged Alice.

"Matteo.

Alice's reaction sounded like that of a spectator who had just witnessed a confrontation between a grizzly and a poodle, where the dog eventually came out on top.

''Did you get run over by that little shit?" she asked incredulously.

''He was not alone,'' Alessandro pointed out in a flat tone. ''He had also brought his two little friends. They blacked me out.

''But how did they manage to...''

He interrupted her by raising his hand and then went to get the letter, which he had placed in a pocket of his backpack.

''With this,'' he announced, handing it to her.

Alice unfolded the paper and began to read.

Though consumed with embarrassment, Alessandro pretended not to see the grimaces and stunned expressions that appeared on his sister's face throughout much of the reading.

Having reached the end in just under a minute Alice gave a sigh and shook her head.

''It is definitely...''

''Too beautiful,'' concluded Alessandro in his place. ''I know, I was an imbecile to fall for it.''

Alice folded the letter and threw it on the desk in front of the bed.

''You have to report it,'' he said firmly.

An icy chill went up Alessandro's spine. Judging by the rapidity with which he widened his eyes, it was evident that he thought that proposal was utter nonsense.

''I don't even think about it,'' he retorted, looking away.

''They could expel him for such a thing,'' Alice pointed out to him.

Alessandro blew contemptuously.

''His father is friends with the principal and also with the mayor, he would be fine.'' He shrugged his shoulders. ''And anyway, I don't want to rat him out by going whining to the teacher like an elementary school kid.''

''This is not tattling,'' Alice insisted, looking him straight in the eye. ''This is telling the truth.''

''I told you to leave it alone,'' Alessandro repeated impatiently, crossing his arms. ''I don't want to talk about it with anyone.''

Realizing that she would not be able to convince him, Alice lowered her head.

''Does it hurt a lot?" he asked simply after a short pause.

''Well no for sure,'' Alessandro admitted. ''But I will get well.''

''You know these things are felt more the next day, right?''

Alessandro's eyebrows arched in unison.

''Really?" he asked worriedly.

Alice nodded sadly.

''Oh, fuck,'' Alessandro commented bitterly, before adding in a slightly more optimistic tone, ''Well, if nothing else, there's no school tomorrow.''

He approached his bed, and although he gritted his teeth at every little friction, he finally managed to get under the covers.

''Good night,'' he said, closing his eyes.

Despite the clarity of that farewell, Alice did not move.

"Do you want me to get you an Aspirin?" he asked willingly.

''No, thank you,'' Alessandro replied with his eyes closed. ''However, if you have to read, keep the light low, okay?''

''All right,'' Alice promised.

***

Alessandro walked down the resin-floored hallway until he stood in front of the entrance to the girls' bathroom.

Feeling he had to hurry, he grabbed the handle, and once he had thrown open the door, he crossed the threshold.

The girl he had been meeting with was waiting for him in front of the window, at the end of the row of sinks. Her back was to him, but something about her long amber hair suggested she was endowed with unparalleled beauty.

With his heart beating wildly, Alessandro advanced a couple of steps and half-closed his lips.

However, just as she was about to address her, the girl turned her head away, revealing that under that long hair was actually a labrador's muzzle with sweet eyes and a dangling tongue.

He had not yet had time to recover from the shock of that revelation, when the features of the female dog (or at least, he thought it was, given the pink bow she wore hanging around her neck), reshaped into those of a male Rottweiler with a studded collar, which after emitting a menacing growl, began to bark at him with savage fury.

At the sight of the creepy man-dog hybrid advancing barking in his direction, Alessandro let out a scream and ran away.

Running through the corridor chased by the creature, he cried out for help at the top of his lungs, but got no response. In fact, it did not seem at all possible that anyone would come to his aid. Although he was in the school in fact, along the corridor he was running down, no door could be seen.

Meanwhile, the monster's barks were getting closer and closer.

Terrified, Alessandro redoubled his efforts, yet never daring to look back. Nevertheless, the barks did not stop increasing in intensity.

After an escape that seemed to last him hours, suddenly the end of that very long corridor materialized in front of him in the form of a small wooden door.

With his heart in his throat and nerves on edge Alessandro pounced on it when he now feared he would be joined by the creature. The void.

As soon as he had crossed the threshold from the other he found nothing to greet him. Neither another hallway, nor a room, just nothingness.

As he plunged into that abyss of darkness, which he feared was the elevator shaft, Alessandro let out a cry of sheer panic, only to land moments later in the living room of his home.

It was evening and his family sat on the couch nearby, watching the eight o'clock news.

The presenter, who for some absurd reason seemed to have the same appearance as his math teacher, was giving an account of what had taken place in the previous days, making use of the images on the screen to make the narrative more exciting.

France had surprisingly invaded Italy about a week earlier so that it could finally get its hands on its immense supply of pencils.

All countries seemed to be disinterested in the affair, but fortunately Japan had decided to come to their aid, sending immense combat mecha to the scene.

Worn down by repeated defeats, however, the French had responded by forming an alliance with the followers of Cthulhu, promising to partition the country when the war was over.

The pencils were to go to the French, while the defeated inhabitants were to join the church of the alien god, serving him for eternity.

Alternatively, however, they were magnanimously given the option of being devoured immediately.

At that point, the presenter, (it was really strange to see Ronzini in that role), put on his head a strange headdress resembling an episcopal mitre, on which was inscribed the words ''SERVE CTHULHU, HE IS YOUR LORD,'' and then announced on the air his eternal allegiance to the cause.

Opinion that apparently the broadcaster, renamed on the spot to RAI CTHULHU, also seemed to share.

Faced with that surreal spectacle, Umberto snapped to his feet, shouting at the top of his lungs at the television.

''Carrion! doormat! Fourth-rate lackey! Penniless clown!''

The living room door swung open with a roar, allowing an absurdly bizarre creature to make its entrance into the living room.

It was a tangle of long, slimy moss-green tentacles, flailing wildly around what appeared to be a vaguely humanoid-shaped central body.

Not at all intimidated, Elisa got up from the couch, and after retrieving a large butcher's cleaver from the kitchen drawer, she went back, pouncing on the monster-rainbow by thrashing slashes left and right.

''Come on guys, come and give me a hand!" he shouted in an encouraging tone. ''Don't you know how much octopus costs per kilo? That way we can save a bundle!''

"To hell with saving, Mom!" shrieked Alessandro and Alice simultaneously.

Too caught up in the frenzy of the moment to hear them, Elisa continued in her mad assault, and after delivering a deadly slash, she cleanly severed one of the creature's tentacles.

Not knowing what else to do, Alessandro merely witnessed the scene by staying still where he was, but as soon as he saw the humanoid octopus waving its stump in midair splashing blue blood everywhere, something in his brain clicked like a spring, and he abandoned the dream.

When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was the lower covering of his sister's bed. The room was bathed in half-light, although the light filtering in from under the door and between the window shades gave him a sense that it was now morning.

He tried to get up, at which point he realized how much truth there was in the words Alice had spoken the night before. His whole body felt as if pierced by thousands of invisible needles, which dug into his flesh with every smallest stress or movement.

Striving not to give in to pain Alessandro shed the blankets and then sat down on the edge of the mattress. Expecting the worst, he took a couple of deep breaths before getting back to his feet, and after biting his lip for safety he gave himself the push up.

Alessandro did not cry out, but he saw the stars anyway.

When he walked into the living room five minutes later, Alessandro found his mother sitting at the dining table writing something on a koala-themed notepad, interrupting every so often to tap on the keys of the calculator she kept next door.

''Good morning, sleepyhead,'' she greeted him, without looking up from her notepad.

''Hello Mom,'' Alessandro said, curving his lips into a smile. ''Can I have breakfast?

''We would miss you.

She shot him an eloquent glance through the lenses of her glasses.

''But no gorgonzola,'' she clarified calmly. ''We can't afford it, and it's not good for you to eat it by the spoonful anyway.''

''I didn't eat it by the spoonful,'' retorted Alessandro indignantly.

''It certainly didn't finish itself last time,'' Elisa pointed out to him, returning his focus to the calculator. ''Just stick to business as usual, okay?

''All right,'' Alessandro promised, setting off in the direction of the cupboard.

Once he opened the door, he retrieved a large one-pound bag of half-full granola and also a package of discount brioche with no filling, then placed everything on the kitchen countertop.

He was on his way to the refrigerator to get milk and jam as well when his mother's voice called him back halfway through.

''Honey, why are you walking like this?''

Alessandro immediately understood what he was referring to.

His right leg being the worse off, since he had gotten out of bed he found it decidedly less painful to move by resting most of his weight on his left, however, inevitably ending up with a staggering gait.

Unable to afford an explanation, he raised his eyebrows in amazement.

''What are you saying mom?" he said feigning surprise. ''I walk normally.'' And to confirm that version he decided to make an effort, covering the last steps that separated him from the refrigerator by walking as usual.

The twinges of pain nearly drew a groan from him, but he skillfully disguised it with a cough.

"What are you doing?" he asked affably, opening the refrigerator.

Elisa continued to stare at him doubtfully for a few more moments, but finally returned her focus to the notepad.

''The accounts,'' she replied simply.

Alessandro searched among the various shelves crammed with bruised fruit and wilted vegetables for the jar of orange marmalade made by Elisa, and although his gaze kept converging on the already-opened tub of gorgonzola, he finally managed to locate what he needed behind a large head of cabbage.

"How are we doing?

Elisa typed a few keys on the calculator before adding a note on the pad.

''Paid all bills and after expenses we are in the black by...''

He turned the page to double-check a figure.

''One hundred and twenty,'' he concluded with a hint of satisfaction.

"Mila?" joked Alessandro, as he pulled out the jar of jam.

Elisa burst out laughing.

''Witty,'' she commented amused.

He had just finished pulling out the milk carton as well, but before he could close the door Elisa spoke again.

''Ah, there are also cooked apples in the fridge if you want them,'' she explained to him as she typed on the calculator. ''They are the unsold from the store, but they were just a little shriveled up.''

''All right, thank you,'' Alessandro said in a gentle tone.

Having also retrieved the plate with the microwaved apples he then returned to the kitchen worktop, and after assembling the muesli inside a mug decorated with cartoon images of animals, he placed everything on the table and took a seat in front of his mother.

Although he managed to endure the discomfort of walking by distributing his weight on both legs, once he sat down the pain became so intense that he was unable to hide a grimace.

Fleeting as it was, it did not escape Elisa's notice, however, Alessandro spoke before she could.

"Where is Alice?" he asked point-blank in English.

As she hoped, a hint of a smile surfaced on Elisa's lips.

Although he had not taught school for years, he still loved being able to speak freely in that language.

''She left about twenty minutes ago,'' he explained again in English, as he resumed writing on his notepad. ''She wanted to visit her friends.''

Alessandro gripped the spoon and absentmindedly stirred the muesli in the cup.

''When will Dad come back?''

''He should be here by 4:15,'' Elisa replied. ''We'll come down as soon as he buzzes.''

''Isn't it a little early?" asked Alessandro a moment before putting the spoon in his mouth.

''The A4 these days is a disaster,'' retorted Elisa calmly. ''If I have to queue for an hour, I prefer that at least it serves a purpose, rather than arriving late and missing visiting hours.''

''Yes, you are right,'' Alessandro confirmed, smiling.

Finished the oatmeal and drank the milk, he opened the package of brioches on which stood out prominently the huge stamp ''NEXT DEADLINE - 50% DISCOUNT AT THE CASH,'' and grabbed the first one he could grab.

He had not yet had time to unwrap it when his eye fell on the inside of the transparent bag.

For a few more seconds Alessandro remained motionless with the brioche in his hands, lost in his own thoughts, until suddenly he began to chuckle softly, as if he had just heard a particularly witty joke.

"What's so funny?" asked Elisa in curiosity.

Alessandro shook his head and stopped snickering.

''No, it's just that...'' He pointed to the plate with the cooked apples. ''You cooked four apples, Dad will be back at four o'clock, we will travel on the A4.''

He lifted the brioches bag two-thirds full.

''And there are four brioches left. It's like an astral conjunction,'' he commented affably. ''We should play it in the superenalotto.''

And unscrewed the lid of the jam jar and prepared to stuff the croissant with it.

''You forget one,'' Elisa pointed out nonchalantly. ''You got a four in math.''

The knife Alessandro let slip from his hand landed on the plate with the cooked apples, producing a resounding clatter.

Ignoring the commotion Elisa closed her notepad, and after interlacing her fingers on the table, she looked her son straight in the eyes.

''Just out of curiosity, when exactly were you planning to tell me?''

His tone was surprisingly calm, but even so, Alessandro did not feel reassured at all. In truth, he found it disturbing.

''A little further,'' he replied in a small voice.

Although he would have much preferred to remain mute, he still made an effort to continue expressing himself in English. At that moment he needed his mother to be in the best possible mood.

''Like at the next report card?" urged Elisa, adjusting her glasses on her nose.

Evidently, the tactic was not meeting with great success. Alessandro did not think he had ever wanted so badly to sink together with the chair into the floor.

''I was waiting for the right moment,'' he said vaguely, as he tried with very little success to make himself small.

''I would say it has now arrived,'' Elisa concluded simply. ''Although I would have preferred you to tell me, and not for me to have to find out by checking online. I saw that you trashed the school email.''

He nodded, spouting sarcasm.

''Very mature behavior.

Unable to sustain his gaze, Alessandro bowed his head, setting his eyes on the edge of the table.

''Sorry,'' he whispered bitterly.

Elisa continued to keep her eyes fixed on him and after a few moments of silence took a deep breath. Her expression turned icy.

''If you fail...''

Alessandro snapped his head back up before he could finish.

''It won't happen!" he blurted out in panic.

Elisa's expression did not change.

''If you fail,'' he repeated calmly. ''Then...''

Fearing the worst Alessandro did not venture to say anything, but at the ten-second Marco of the last line his mother had not yet ended the threat, and he decided to venture to break the silence.

"So?" he asked cautiously.

Elisa maintained eye contact for a few more moments, then looked away.

''I have to think about it,'' she replied dryly.

Realizing that in this way his warning was in danger of losing much of its effectiveness, he almost immediately resumed looking his son in the eye.

''But I won't be happy at all,'' she added firmly, striving to flaunt a stern frown. ''And neither will your father. Not at all.''

Alessandro lowered his gaze and nodded his head.

Elisa's grave expression melted like a snowman exposed to the heat of a summer fire.

''Do you need help?" she asked him, softening her tone considerably.

"How?" asked astonished Alessandro, looking up again.

"Do you need private lessons?" she clarified.

''No,'' Alessandro replied dryly, shaking his head, ''absolutely not.''

''So you will study on your own,'' Elisa concluded.

''Yes''

''Even this summer you said that,'' his mother reminded him, ''but I don't think it turned out to be a winning strategy.''

''I will try harder, much harder,'' Alessandro insisted, nodding vigorously. ''I promise to succeed this time.''

Elisa merely stared at him in silence, although it was clear that she was pondering.

Finally, he lowered his eyelids, and after letting out a long sigh, he adjusted his glasses on his nose.

''Let's do this,'' she exclaimed quietly, ''from now you will start studying hard to improve your GPA, but if even the next two tests go badly, then we will switch to private lessons.''

Alessandro opened his mouth to protest, but Elisa proved quicker.

''You will make them with me,'' he announced simply.

Having guessed the kind of objections that were running through her son's head simply by looking at his dumbfounded expression, she decided to address them right away, without even giving him time to expound them.

''Algebra wasn't exactly my forte, but I'll go over the theory on the Internet and then teach you,'' she explained calmly. ''Exercise after exercise we'll go through the whole book until you can recite it by heart, and I don't care if we have to stay locked up here studying every afternoon.''

He pointed his index finger at them and then announced with granite determination:

''You're going to rip that sufficiency.''

Cornered, and coming up with no valid objection, Alessandro could do nothing but meekly sway his head in assent.

''All right.

Without saying anything Elisa got up from her chair and walked around the table.

When he realized it was headed toward him, Alessandro bowed his head, setting his eyes on the plate with the cooked apples, but the moment his mother placed her hands on his shoulders he was shaken by a slight jolt.

Although it was an involuntary reaction, mainly due to the pain caused by the bruises, Elisa seemed to interpret everything as the result of surprise, and therefore was not alarmed.

At that point she brought her lips close to his cheek, and returning to using Italian, she whispered in his ear.

''And you also have to promise that you won't hide things from me anymore, okay?''

Hearing her address him in that sweet tone, Alessandro felt a thrill of happiness run through every muscle in his body. If only for a few fractions of a second, the pain he felt a little everywhere seemed to dissolve.

''I promise,'' he said meekly.

Elisa's lips curved into a wide smile as she pressed her cheek to his in an affectionate gesture.

''That's my boy,'' she whispered softly.

She gave him a kiss on the temple and returned to her seat.

Perhaps because of the twinges that would not stop nagging at him, or perhaps also because of the agitation that the recent conversation with Elisa had put on him, Alessandro did not extend his breakfast too long.

Contrary to what he used to do on Saturdays or other holidays in fact, he decided not to overdo it, and therefore allowed himself only one brioche with jam, as well as a couple of those small cinnamon-flavored apples cooked by his mother.

Having to add indigestion as well to all the problems he already had seemed way too masochistic to him.

Seeing him close the jam jar, Elisa looked up from her calculator.

''Are you finished yet?" she asked in amazement.

''Yes, I'm not very hungry right now,'' he replied.

''Ah, okay,'' commented Elisa as she stood up. ''Then I guess I can also start cleaning.''

"Clean?" repeated Alessandro, frowning.

''Cleaning the house,'' Elisa explained simply. ''Since you are out I'll take the opportunity to mop and dust the furniture. In the meantime I'll prepare the jam.''

''But I'm not out,'' Alessandro retorted confusedly.

Elisa shot him a wide smile.

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