But rats are. There must be plenty of them around there. And rats bite. Urban legends. She remembered someone, a friend of a friend, who’d been bitten by a rat. He’d died very quickly. Lepto-something. Terrible. She veered away from the tufts of grass, dangerous hiding places for death-dealing rats. Darn that Pallina.
Babi walked to the center of the road, dragging her feet, her hands out in front of her. Suddenly she heard a sound off to her left. Babi stopped. Silence.
Then a branch snapped. Something came moving fast toward her, running, panting, through the shrubbery. Babi was terrified. Motionless, paralyzed in the middle of that dark road.
Out of the dark patch of vegetation in front of her came a big dog with a black coat, snarling. Babi saw its silhouette come barking toward her, moving at top speed through the night. Its baying bark echoed ominously over the solitary hills.
Babi turned and started to run. She slipped and nearly fell on the cobblestones. She recovered, stumbling through the darkness, hurrying forward, unable to see where she was going.
The dog was right behind her. It was galloping menacingly, gaining ground. Snarling and barking ferociously. Babi reached the palisade. She found a gap, up high. She stuck in her hand, then the other hand, and finally found a foothold. Right foot, left foot, and up and over. Leaping into the void, barely eluding the sharp white fangs behind her.
The dog slammed against the fence. It bounced off with a dull, hollow thud. It started running back and forth, barking, searching in vain for an opening, a space through which to reach his prey.
Babi got back up. She’d hit her hands and knees falling face forward in the dark. She’d landed in something warm and soft. It was mud. It slid slowly down her jacket, down her jeans. Down her aching hands. She tried to move. Her legs sank into the mud up to the knee. She almost tripped and fell. She regained her balance. She stood still. The dog was running far away along the palisade. Let’s just hope there’s not a way through. She could hear it barking, even more ferocious than before because it couldn’t get to her. Well, better this mud than a dog bite.
Then, all at once, an acrid odor, with a hint of sweetness, swept over her. She put her filthy hand up to her face. She sniffed at it. For a moment the countryside seemed to envelop her and make her its property. A shudder ran down her spine. Manure! That turned out not to be such a great trade after all.
* * *
Pallina stepped out of the front door, letting it shut gently without clicking locked. Then she took the keys out of her pocket, bent over, lifted the doormat, and put them back in the agreed-upon spot.
Babi hadn’t phoned yet. But at least this way she wouldn’t have to ring to get in.
Just then, Pallina heard the sound of a car. From the curve in the courtyard, a Mercedes 200 appeared. She recognized it. It was the same car that often brought Babi to school in the morning. Her parents.
Pallina let the doormat drop and ran toward the front door. She let it slam behind her. She took the stairs at a run, went inside, and shut the door behind her.
“Quick, Dani, your folks are home.”
Daniela was standing in front of the refrigerator in the throes of the usual terrible hunger that visited her at two in the morning. For that one time, she’d have to go to bed hungry. She slammed the refrigerator door. She ran to her room and shut herself in.
Pallina rushed into Babi’s bedroom. She took off her shoes and hid them behind the curtain near the window. Then she lowered the shutter and slipped into bed, fully dressed. Her heart was pounding. She lay still and listened. She heard the noise of the roller gate in the garage being shut. It was a matter of minutes now.
Then, in the dim light of the bedroom, she saw the school uniform draped over the chair. Babi had prepared her attire for the following day before leaving. She’d expected to be home early. What a good girl she was, poor Babi.
But this time, Babi was definitely in deep shit—literally.
Chapter 6
Step raced down Via Gregorio VII at top speed. He shot past the Samoto dealership, the same place he’d bought his Honda. He shot past Gregory’s Jazz Club. The different sound of his tires gave him some information. He’d left the asphalt and was now running on cobblestones.
He downshifted without touching his brakes. He quickly checked the traffic light. He looked right and then left. He shot into the tunnel.
Right after him came the city traffic cops’ squad car. The siren howled louder as it echoed off the tiles, a prisoner of the rounded walls. The light blue flashing lights spread, alternating, across those horrible yellow walls.
Step came hurtling out of the tunnel, practically leaping. He downshifted and hit the brakes before veering off to the right, along the Lungotevere riverfront. He accelerated and slalomed past two or three cars. Then he put the bike into third gear, accelerating and gaining speed.
If Step could make it to Piazza Trilussa, he’d be safe. In his side mirror he could see the police car getting dangerously close.
Two cars were ahead of him. He upshifted and poured on the gas. Third gear. The motorcycle lunged forward. He just managed to squeeze between the car doors. One of the two vehicles veered away from the other, frightened. The other just sailed along down the middle of the road. The driver, in a daze, hadn’t noticed a thing.
The city traffic cops passed on the far right. Their cars rose, thumping and springy, on the low curb of the sidewalk.
Step saw Piazza Trilussa straight ahead. He shifted again. He veered across the road, from right to left. The dazed driver slammed on the brakes. Step shot straight down the narrow street across from the fountain that joined the two riverfront roads, the two Lungoteveres. He raced between the low marble traffic barriers. The city police were forced to brake, marooned there by the barriers. They couldn’t get through.
Step accelerated. He’d made it. The two cops got out of their car. They only had time to glimpse a pair of young lovers and a group of panicked youngsters hopping onto the narrow sidewalk of that side street to let the lunatic on the motorcycle with his headlights off roar past. Step appeared at top speed in their midst and then shot away to the far side of the Lungotevere. He curved to the left. He continued to race along for another short while. Then he looked into his side mirror. Behind him, all was clear. Only a few cars in the distance. The usual traffic at this time of night.
No one was following him anymore. He turned on his headlights. That would be the one thing he needed: to be stopped for riding without his lights on. Then he took a deep breath. He’d done it.
He just prayed that they hadn’t managed to read his license plate. But he didn’t think so. He’d almost never used his brakes for that exact reason. The brake lights would have lit up the license plate too.
He upshifted again and twisted the throttle. Now he needed to turn around and go pick up Babi. He’d take the long way around. He didn’t want to run into that squad car full of city traffic cops again.
After all, Babi could wait. She was safe.
* * *
Babi’s father, Claudio, opened the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of water. Her mother, Raffaella, went down the hall, to the girls’ bedrooms. Before going to sleep, she always kissed her daughters good night, in part because it was a habit and in part because it was a good way of checking up to make sure they’d returned home.