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 Tiepolo1, 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.
1 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.
His sister and Libero were already dipping them in the milk.
Libero asked him:
"Do you know who's coming today?"
Elio startled at his question.
"Who?" he replied.
"Ercole, my little brother!"
Elio did not say anything, but he had completely forgotten of his peer.
"From where?" he asked as if they had not talked about it.
"What?" replied Gaia. "Aunt Ida told us yesterday."
"He's coming back from summer camp." said Libero smiling.
"The attic is waiting for you two." hinted their aunt with a tone that brooked no argument. "Come on, Elio, finish up your breakfast and get to work." "Gaia will come and help you in a bit. I need her to run an errand for me."
Elio drank his milk in a sip, being relieved at the idea of spending some time alone in the attic. He was happy that he could go back to listening to his music on his mp3 player.
He looked for it all over the house but could not find it anywhere. He went back into kitchen and asked:
"Has anyone seen my mp3 player?"
"Unfortunately, something happened to it yesterday. You had left it on the sofa. When I opened the sofa bed, it got stuck in between the frame mechanism...There's not much left, but I’ve managed to save the memory card." said his aunt, who took the memory card from a saucer and gave it to him.
"The day has begun in the worst way" kept thinking Elio. He climbed up the stairs that lead to the attic with his usual pace and switched on the light.
Things were piled up everywhere. He would have had to tidy everything up and find a spot where to place two beds. The thought of it was too much for him. Therefore, he decided to open up the big central window to let some fresh air and some daylight in, and intended to sit down somewhere and wait for Gaia.
But then, something caught his eyes. It was a book placed on an old wooden box that looked weirdly similar to that book the old man was reading on the train.
It was a very odd coincidence. It certainly was not a very common book, which made his nervous. All of a sudden, the light went out and Elio began to hear that odd voice that, like a bad omen, was whispering into his ears words in an unknown language.
Although he knew it was impossible, Elio was scared that the old man could be standing right there with him, in the dark. He searched for the light switch, but could not turn it on. The light bulb must have burst. A deep-rooted fear took over him. The voice was getting stronger and stronger and kept echoing in his head. He was fumbling around in the dark to get to the window, dragging along with him all the objects he was running into.
When he got to the handle, he realized that the window was locked and started punching on the glass hoping it would unlock.
He was shaking and was covered in cold sweat.
Suddenly, the light came on. Elio turned around, he wanted to scream, but his throat got all choked up.
Then he saw Gaia.
"Elio, are you okay? What's with all this noise? Are you hurt?"
The boy, who was white as a sheet and was shivering, looked distressed.
Gaia hugged him tightly and worriedly whispered to him:
"Is