In the background she could hear Carlo ask questions and laugh.
"TV and video games are gone. In extremis, extremity."
Elio, was lying on the bed. He could not move his body. It had been years since he moved that much.
At school he would always make up excuses to skip gym class.
"Elio call your sister here. I need some help with dinner."
Elio could not believe what he had just heard. She could not be for real.
But Aunt Ida spoke with such a tone that would not allow any negative answer.
"Elio, did you hear what I say?"
"Okay." he replied and proceeded towards the stairs all grim faced.
He stopped right beneath the wooden ladder and began yelling her name.
Despite her brother's yells, Gaia was not answering.
Then Elio, even more upset, decided to climb up the stairs. In the semi-dark room of the attic he was feeling anxious. Step after step, the journey to the attic seemed never-ending. As soon as he arrived with his head underneath the hatch, he began yelling his sister's name. But again, no one replied. He forced himself to walk the last steps. And then something from above grabbed his arm.
Elio stayed still, with his eyes shut and the terrorised look on his face.
"Got ya!" yelled Gaia, who had noticed that Elio was in awe.
"Get away from me. You scared me. You should've answered."
Gaia did not take the bait as she was intrigued by what she had found, and said:
"This attic is packed with odd things. Come over here. Look at this..."
Elio finished walking up the stairs and followed his sister, who was browsing through old pictures.
"This is so funny." she said, passing the pictures to Elio.
"What is funny?" asked Elio.
"What?" asked Gaia. "Do you not recognise him?"
"Who?!" asked again Elio.
"It's dad!" exclaimed Gaia.
"Dad? You're right. I didn't recognise him dressed up like this. He looks a little bit like Libero. They're basically wearing the same clothes!"
Finally, after a very long time, he smiled. Gaia, in the meantime, kept looking at the other pictures.
"Have you seen this one? I think it's a very young Libero. He seems so serious and sullen that it doesn't even look like him."
The picture portrayed a pale and frail child with a blank stare in his eyes.
"He looks so alienated" commented Gaia.
In the picture, he was standing in the garden and was holding in his hands his toy cars. The photograph had been taken at dusk with the sun setting behind him. Libero was alone in the picture, however there was a second shadow running along his.
Elio spotted it and worriedly said:
"Can you see this shadow?"
"Which one?"
Elio began feeling nervous.
"This one here. Do you not see it? This shadow does not correspond to anything" he said, pointing his finger at the picture.
"This? It's the shadow of the tree."
Gaia was not really convinced either, but she tried to reassure her brother.
Elio did not want his sister to think he had gone crazy, and decided to switch topic of discussion.
"We have to go downstairs. Aunt Ida made me come here and call you. She needs your help."
"Are you staying in here?" asked Gaia as she was jumping towards the stairs.
Elio thought that there was not a chance that he was going to stay there on this own.
"No, I'm coming with you" he replied.
Gaia found her aunt busy making dinner and began helping her out.
Elio was about to lay down on the couch when he heard Ida's voice.
"What are you doing? Come and help us. It's not time to rest. Set the table, please.
"Where's Libero?" asked Gaia.
"Surely he's closing up the stables." replied Ida. "Elio, if you are finished, could you go and call him over here?"
"I'll go." offered Gaia smiling.
"No, I need you here. Let your brother go."
"Yes." Elio tiredly replied, who was unusually hungry.
He stepped out of the front door and looked around for his cousin, who was sitting on the tractor in the field and watching the sky.
Elio walked towards him and had the impression that everyone in the family had gone deaf: he called him several times, but Libero did not answer.
"I really hope it's contagious. At least I'll be able to lay down and I won't need to listen to anyone's orders. " meditated Elio.
He had to walk right under the tractor to have an answer.
"Why are you yelling?" asked Libero.
"You should come inside. Dinner's ready" replied Elio.
"Come on up." said Libero, as if he did not hear any of the words Elio was saying.
"Up there?"
"Yeah, up here. I'll show you something."
Elio climbed up the tractor and sat down next to him.
"Look how beautiful it is." exclaimed Libero, pointing at the sky. "A few years ago I could not see it."
"What?" asked Elio as he tried to spot what he was referring to.
"The sky." repeated Libero.
"The sky?"
"Yeah, the sky. It's a beautiful thing. But most of the times in our lives we don't raise our heads up. And I don't mean just to check the weather, but to contemplate it, in silence, in the same way we contemplate the sea. It's just that it is easier to admire the latter; that's why it's appreciated more often. Have you ever stopped and admired the sky?"
"No."
"You should. It lifts you up and makes you look at things in the right perspective."
Elio, amazed at his cousin's profundity, stayed in silence with him and looked at the sky for a while.
From blinding white to smokey grey, the clouds were floating between two strips of sky. The strip beneath them was lead grey, the strip above them was deep blue, illuminated by the last glares of the sun that was setting. The edge of the clouds looked golden, as if they were brightened by light of another world, as if they were there to illuminate a past life. The white ones were thick like firm peaks, the grey ones were squiggled like a child's scribble.
Amongst all of them, one can be easily distinguished. It was unicorn shaped and was standing against the white background as if the grey animal were running in the white celestial meadows. Just like a fresco painted by Tiepolo
, that natural infinite roof was stretched over what is visible, over the mystery of the existence of our souls: so small, yet eternal.
All of a sudden, Libero jumped down.
"I'm starving now" he said, laughing out loud.
"Aren't you, Elio?"
"Yeah."
"Come on, let's go and eat. Maybe another time I’ll drive you around on the tractor."
He said, heading towards his house.
Elio did not waste any time and began following him. He was starving too.
Tiepolo was a famous Venetian painter in the 18th century.
Fourth Chapter
A voice was whispering into his ears words in an unknown language.
Elio woke up early. It was impossible not to give into aunt Ida, who was insistently screaming his name. It was nearly dawn outside. He looked at the sky get pink and for a second, he pictured the image of the previous night's sunset and relived that feeling of peacefulness. But it did not last for a long time as he began to hear a sharp ringing in his ears that was cutting his soul and made him go back to reality.
Elio dragged himself to the kitchen still wearing his pyjamas and hoping breakfast would wake him up.
His aunt, cousin and sister were already dressed up with their hair perfectly combed as if it were 8 am rather than 5.30. There was a festive atmosphere in the house; Ercole was coming back home from summer camp and Ida was excited at the thought of having her son back home. He had been away for five days and she had been very apprehensive. She was always worried when their kids were out of the house after what had happened to Libero when he was younger. She would never have wanted to take her eyes off them.
As soon as she spotted Elio being unruly, Sergeant Ida sent him away to make him freshen up.
Ida was a strong woman who had been strengthened by the hardship of life. Following her husband's death and the issues with her son, she had to get accustomed to a totally different life from the one she was leading in the city with her husband.
Tough and determined as she was, she tackled that new challenge. Sometimes she would let herself cry in secret, but despite everything she would not lose her strength.
Her authoritative tone was her shield. However, on the inside she was as sweet and soft as a cupcake.
After a while, Elio came back fully dressed and almost freshened up despite his bad mood and his hunger.
He could smell milk and chocolate, and the fresh pastries that aunt Ida had made the day before.
They were milk, braid-shaped brioches in different flavours: cinnamon, anise, and sesame, his favourite.
