21
The dark of the night impended. Emilio accelerated his/her walk, it had intention to make visit to tzia Adelia Corona. It had to do to the quick one; if it didn't feel her/it to cross the wood in the obscurity and separated by the companions. You/he/she would have been this the fate that would be touched him if you/he/she was held back more than the due one by the old one. To make reentry to house, the miners that the fortune of a lodging didn't have to Montevecchio, they cut the road climbing himself/herself/itself on the mountain and unthreading of side to the village Rules. To observe their chain of lamps from the feet of the great mountain gave the impression to assist to a fiaccolata of conceited stars. They climbed toward the sky with the ambition to dethrone the most greater orsa and every other more famous celestial star. Emilio saw his/her companions advance along the walk and was sorry him not to be with them. The trip of reentry was more fatiguing in comparison to the going but decidedly more happy-go-lucky: the day of job was ended and you/he/she could be laughed and to joke. The morning, instead, the thoughts were turned to the twelve hours of job that waited as a creditor of long course. Anybody an absence could be allowed the wells, the waiting list to enter to belong to the mines overcame of big long the distance between house of Emilio and Montevecchio.
The ruinous abode of tzia Adelia Corona was already glimpse. To Emilio it still seemed more malridottas of the usual one, with the plaster of the walls that fell asunder and the tiles to Sardinian coppo that, because of the wind, you/they were detached by the roof and you shatter to the ground. Variegavano the distempering of the pebbles of mountain, designing the idea of a courtyard. It was evident that the hands of Luigi didn't take care of that slum anymore.
Emilio knocked twice. Nothing. Still two. Nothing. While it was being about to still strike the front door of fir, the old one opened sending to empty that last attempt of his of percussion.
«You are you, Emilio, enters also, I have attended you the whole day and by now I thought that you would not have come anymore.»
The odor prorompente of the elderly one stagnated in that hole. Old age had a puzzling ability: to make a first woman the memory of herself and subsequently the more appestantes rest of carcass of the world; and the expedient of tzia Adelia Corona to camouflage that torture had been making ineluctable for the time they grazed the absolute zero. It stinked as a sow confined in a neglected porcilaia. Who knows from how much time didn't make a bath, even from the departure of his/her child. Perhaps exhausted from the bustle forced for every necessity it had cacato and pissed in some angle of the room. Or suffered a sudden attack of dysentery you/he/she had not succeeded in arriving to the courtyard. It was Probable that tzia Adelia if it felt her/it all I set the frightening foul smell that emanated. The source of he/she Knows it will Lose distava some kilometers from his/her house, making the acquisition of the water a childish matter that didn't leave space to discourses for old. Emilio was promised to resolve to brief the matter.
«Emilio, the mail carrier has delivered me a letter and I believes both of my Luigi.»
Emilio jolted, almost not acknowledging himself/herself/itself the breathed sharp that tzia Adelia had projected him in concomitance with the words.
«Me the face to see, lady!»
The old takings an envelope that lay on the lunch table and it advanced toward Emilio. He/she staggered as a drunkard legionary from a night of carousals. Unfortunately for her, the afflictions would not be enfeebled to the awakening as after one drunk; the day when that pains would have passed, she would not have been able to enjoy himself/herself/themselves that moment, buried under meters of earth.
Emilio sighted the red shield shorn by the crown and rejected the last delays that orbitted around the universe of his/her thoughts: it was of certain an envelope coming from the front.
It opened her in agitated way and, when it a dissimilar calligraphy from the first letter sent by Luigi, dismal premonitions they took possession him some light. Little remained optimism was thrown him in the turbid waters of the lagoon.
The remnants that separated the elderly one from the blindness were enough to gather the sudden expressive change of Emilio.
«Thing there is, Emilio? Has anything happened of ugly to my Luigi?»
Emilio didn't respond and kept on fixing with immovable eyes that letter.
«Because you don't answer me, he/she speaks, I pray you!» tzia Adelia whined, starting to perceive the damp weeping on the cheeks.
The calligraphy didn't have anything to whether to see with that cleaning up and ordinate of the preceding letter. This introduced characters from the irregular forms, as if to write the words had been necessary to detach the quill from the sheet on every single letter of the alphabet. The writing didn't follow a horizontal line. The first line of reference departed from the tall angle of the sheet and finished few above the opposite half. If Emilio had not been sure that could not be as he/she thought, you/he/she would have believed that that letter had been written by a six year-old child.
"Hi Emmilio, cuesta and the first letera that I write with my hands. The gionalista and scatter-brain from the teddeschis and more nonpuo to help to write me but during her known to inseniato to me and my copagnis to write. Cualchecosa sela remembers one, cualchecosa laltro and so it conceals cavviamo."
Closed Emilio the shiny eyes thanking the sky. It supported a hand on the left shoulder of the old one, that assumed a dismayed expression. «It is Luigi, and it is alive!»
The old one bursted to cry and he/she embraced him/it. Emilio looked for with a hand to dry the eyes. It was touched and he/she didn't even remember that Adelia had that odor ammorbante.
"The rusis I uncover us schiaciando and my batalione ditruto he withdraws. There rubbed anus. Madavano the notris imprisoned copagni to serve as shield and nesuno dinoi had the coragio to shoot. Nesuno knows doveci manderano, but I am pasato in polonia and or seen the I live of cocetramento of auscviz, from them nesuno goes out and vegono toturate done and children. My God, the people and thin comme cheletri and them fano to wash in the gas that them amazza tuti. Them amuchiano with the shovels mecaniche, to miliaia and then they burn them after them baniano of bezina. I feel acora it shouts diperate that me to her scopiano the teta and not me fano domire of notes. Taken anus ache the capelano of my batalione and the anus closed again with them ebbrei, not credoche I will see anymore it again."
Adelia still waited for to have news of his/her child, but Emilio tightened the letter without tearing off her eyes of back and didn't absolutely say anything. It was elsewhere, in Poland.
"I hope that my mama and Lella are well and that ache you. Cueta guera sebra to never want finnire, is tanchi and we flies tornarre acasa. Or amazzatto a soldatto pearl primma turns and finirro allinfenno for cuesto. Who knows seaveva molie, who knows seaveva spins, I see me lasua facia in cotinuazione and cuando I die him me apetera for take revenge himself/herself/themselves. Now you salutto, ricordatti of nondire to my mama cuete things, abraciala and tell well her chele volio tato as ache to Lella and you emmilio. Preto tonero among divoi, a salutto votro Luigi."
Emilio would have meant him that they was well, that to Montevecchio life was hard and that of boys also died in mine of it. You/he/she would have told only it to encourage him/it, to make to understand him that sometimes life was merciless, so, with someone at random, choosing him/it without guilts or preferences. But Luigi distava thousand of kilometers from Montevecchio and to reassure only found him/it possible with his/her own imagination. Emptied by every energy, Emilio slipped going to take a seat on one of the two chairs approached to the table. The old one persistently frequented around him.
«How it is? Where is it found? When it returns home? Because you/he/she is done alive so late after the first letter?»
That wave of questions bothered Emilio, that he was taking back for degrees from the enormous emotion. «You sits, lady!»
Tzia Adelia made to slip back the chair to th
e with a screeching. You sat doing well attention not to load the weight of his/her body on the back, grungy and ready to feed the flames of the fireplace. Emilio stared at her/it in the eyes. It didn't sustain for a long time his/her look, he/she knew that what was about to read it didn't correspond to the reality. It feared that to fury to quadrate the woman you/he/she would have ended up unmasking alone his/her fallacious story.
It placed the eyes on the letter and it started the comedy pretending to read and without never lifting the look from that piece of made yellow paper. It told that Luigi was well and that you/he/she had been transferred elsewhere, away from the war. He/she now worked in a cafeteria for official, it made the help cook and the delicacies that the chef prepared sometimes pinched. Of four kilos you/he/she was fattened up. The evening went out with all the boys of its group and cannot wait to make to know them to everybody. It loved his/her mother and he/she cared for Emilio, he/she greeted all and soon you/he/she would have returned home.
Only Emilio found at that time the courage to still cross the trajectory traced by the look of tzia Adelia. Smiled. Adelia still cried. He/she cried of joy tightening the limp beret of Luigi. Emilio had been unexceptionable, its history had enchanted Adelia, that even for a meaningless according to you/he/she had doubted of its truthfulness. Emilio went out of the house of run. It raced happy and it didn't hear the work. Luigi was alive. To the feet of the path it intercepted the last gruppetto of miners that was held back to the wells for of the extraordinary. You felt fortunate. You/he/she could make reentry to house in company and Luigi it was well. If Giuseppino had still been alive, Emilio would have believed indeed to be fortunate.