“In the rain. In a phone booth. Should I come over to your place?”
“I wish. My folks are home.”
“Then why don’t you come meet me?”
“I can’t. I’m grounded. They caught me when I came home yesterday. They were at the window, waiting for me.”
Step smiled and tossed away his cigarette. “So it’s actually true! There are girls in the world who are still being grounded…”
“Yep, and now you’re dating one.”
Babi shut her eyes in sheer terror, waiting to hear what would happen when the bomb she’d thrown exploded, but there was no taking it back now. However, there was no explosion so, slowly, she opened her eyes. Outside the glass, under a streetlight, the rain was more visible. It was starting to slow. “Are you still there?”
“Yes, I was just trying to figure out what it feels like to have been outmaneuvered by a very clever girl.”
Babi bit her lip as she walked nervously and happily around her room. So it was true. “If I was such a clever girl, I’d have picked someone else to outmaneuver.”
Step laughed. “All right, truce. Let’s see if we can keep it up for at least a day. What are you doing tomorrow?”
“School, then I’ll study, and the whole time I’ll be grounded.”
“Well, I could come and pay you a visit.”
“I’d say that’s not one of the best ideas…”
“I could dress up nice.”
Babi laughed. “Not because of that. It’s a slightly more general set of considerations. What time are you getting up in the morning tomorrow?”
“I don’t know, ten, eleven. Whenever Pollo comes by to wake me up.”
Babi shook her head. “But what if he doesn’t come?”
“Then I might sleep until noon.”
“Can you come get me at school?”
“At one o’clock? Yes, I think I could do that.”
“I meant at the start of the day.”
Silence. “What time would that be?”
“Ten past eight.”
“Why do people start school at dawn? And then what would we do?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We could run away…” Babi heard those words of hers, uttered in a tone of amusement. She practically couldn’t believe her ears. She must have lost her mind. Still, she liked the idea of running away with him.
“All right, let’s go crazy. At eight on the dot in front of your school. I just hope I can wake up.”
“It won’t be easy, will it?”
“Not exactly.”
She laughed. Then remained silent for a while. Uncertain what to say next, how to end the call. “Well, then, ciao.”
Step looked out to see that it had stopped raining, and the clouds were scudding along fast. He felt happy. He looked at the receiver. Right now she was at the other end of the line. “Ciao, Babi.”
Step hung up. A few stars had appeared, timid and wet, up in the sky. Tomorrow it was going to be a beautiful day because he was going to spend the morning with her. He climbed onto his motorcycle.
Ten past eight. He must have lost his mind. He tried to remember the last time he’d gotten up that early, but nothing occurred to him. He smiled. Just three days ago, that was when he’d returned home.
In the darkness of her room with the telephone still in her hand, Babi continued staring at the glass pane for a while. She imagined him in the street. It had to be cold out. She shivered on his behalf.
She went back to the living room, handed the telephone back to her sister, and then sat down beside her on the sofa.
Careful not to be noticed, Daniela was curiously studying Babi’s face. She wanted to ask her a thousand questions. She’d have to settle for those eyes that suddenly stared at her happily before going back to watching television.
For a moment, that old black-and-white film seemed to be in full, glorious color. Babi didn’t understand any of what they were talking about in it, and her mind wandered off, captivated by her own thoughts. Then she suddenly returned to reality. She looked around, worried, but nobody in the room seemed to know what she was thinking. Tomorrow, for the first time in her life, she was planning to skip school.
Chapter 20
Paolo was sitting at the table, idly leafing through the newspaper. When he got to the business section, he focused a little more intently. Just then, a noise attracted his attention. The milk had boiled over, foaming over the sides of the little pot onto the burner below, partially extinguishing the flame.
He ran toward the stove. Now the coffee came gurgling up under the lid of the Moka Express coffeepot.
Paolo turned off both burners. Then he picked up the pot of milk and the coffeepot and went back to the table. Midway there, he realized that they were both burning his hands. He picked up his pace, going faster and faster, until finally he was running. When he reached the table, he was finally able to set them down.
He waved his hands in the air, now free to cool off, and sat down. He looked around. There wasn’t much there for breakfast. Strange. He’d asked Maria to bake an apple pie. Naively, he supposed she must have forgotten. He opened a jar. Cookie fragments still lay on the bottom of the jar in a golden dust. He bit into one. It crumbled in his mouth without a hint of flavor. This wasn’t turning out to be one of the better breakfasts in his life.
He remembered a pastry he’d bought for emergency situations. He decided that this might be one of those cases. He opened several cabinets. At last he found it. He’d hidden it well to keep it from the ravenous hunger of Step and his friends.
He set it down on the table, unwrapped it, and cut himself a slice. Just then, Step came in. “Ciao, brother.”
Paolo looked up at him and then shook his head. “Does this seem like the time of the morning to come home? Now you’ll spend the rest of the day in bed, then, best case, you’ll go to the gym, and come evening, you’ll be out and about again with Pollo and the other half-dozen criminals you hang out with. Life is good for you…”
“Very good indeed.” Step poured himself some coffee and then some milk. “As it happens, though, I’m not coming home. I’m leaving.”
Paolo glanced at his watch with some concern. Then he must be late. No, it was seven thirty. He heaved a sigh of relief. Everything was under control. Still, something didn’t add up. Step had never left the house at that time of the morning. “Where are you going?”
“To school.”
“Ah.” Paolo relaxed. Then he suddenly remembered that Step had finished school the year before last.
“What for?”
“Fuck, what’s with all these questions, and at the crack of dawn too?”
“Do whatever you want, just try to stay out of trouble. Wait, didn’t Maria make an apple pie?”
Step looked at him with an innocent expression. “Apple pie? Not that I know of.”
“Are you sure? It’s not like you ate it all up, you and Pollo and those other pigs you call your friends?”
“Paolo, why do you always have to insult my friends? It’s not nice. What, do I ever insult yours?”
Paolo remained silent. No, Step didn’t insult his friends. But then, how could he? Paolo had no friends. Every so often a colleague or some old university classmate would call him, but Step could hardly have insulted any of them. They’d already been insulted by life. Dreary and sad. It wouldn’t be fair to punish them any further.