Wednesday, August 20, 2025

BONUS TRACK: "The Exhibition" - Part I (Emmanuel-Christian at Gianni's exhibition)

Introduction:

Many months have passed since Gianni and Emmanuel met at Bar Paradiso (see "Paradise Bar"), and the two are now a stable, albeit clandestine, couple.
Gianni has decided to organize a major exhibition of his best photos in Milan and wants Emmanuel to be present at the opening. But some photos portray Emmanuel as a model, and Massimiliano, Gianni's partner, a famous painter, will also be there... How can Emmanuel not be recognized?
Gianni has an idea: he dyes the boy's hair red, puts glasses on him, and dresses him like a slightly nerdy college student.
From now on, he will no longer be Emmanuel, but Christian, Gianni's secretary.



- Hello, beautiful people!

Maurizia Ajroldi di Robbiate enters the exhibition with a radiant smile on her re-made lips and the Milan Cathedral on her head (one of the hats she's famous for), clad in a skin-tight candy pink dress, accompanied by a pair of blue-haired boys and followed by a small flock of paparazzi. The onlookers applaud: the sight of the surreal noblewoman, well-known in the Milanese area, always inspires joy and good humor.

Massimiliano approaches her and kisses her hand with a small bow.

- Countess, what a pleasure.

The pleasure is all mine, dear Cattaneo: you know I've never missed one of your shows.

- This, actually, isn't mine, but my partner Gianni Gandolfini's. He's a photographer, not a painter. It's his first exhibition: he's not a stage animal like me; he doesn't like showing off his art. But he's good, you'll see.

- The invitation comes from you, my dear, and you are absolutely guaranteed. But where is our Gandolfino?

- I'll introduce him to you right away.

Massimiliano takes a few steps toward the buffet in the dining room, where Gianni and I are sitting. Today, he's dressed with the refined, slightly 19th-century elegance that characterizes him at his best: a magnificent navy blue linen jacket over a stunning multicolored paisley-patterned brocade waistcoat, a crisp white shirt slightly open at the chest, and pearl gray trousers. An almost invisible diamond sparkles in his left earlobe. He's beautiful, like something out of a Van Dyck painting, but he doesn't show off, despite being the star of the evening: he stands discreetly aside, letting others gaze at him. I, who have to play the role of the insignificant secretary we'd agreed upon, have opted for a nondescript dark blue wool cardigan over a white shirt, cream corduroy trousers, and prim, mouse-colored loafers. I'm wearing round glasses, without any prescription whatsoever, just to complete the effect. And of course, as expected, my hair is dyed a dark Titian red, similar to my son's, slicked back with gel and tied in a pathetic ponytail at the nape of my neck. I feel decidedly ugly in this disguise, but Gianni's eyes light up when he looks at me: the complicity that binds us in this moment excites him, and besides, he really likes me in this nerdy guise.

"You have no idea how much you make my blood boil looking like that," he whispers in my ear as I sip my cocktail. "I'd eat you alive." He takes advantage of the situation to give me a little bite on the neck, without being noticed. I laugh.

We're busy being served the signature drink prepared for the occasion by an elegant waiter: Gianni spared no expense in setting up his exhibition and asked the catering service to create a custom cocktail for the occasion, inspired by the theme of the exhibition and the colors of his works. They named it "Yellow Absinthe Neck," I don't understand why.

Massimiliano ignores me completely and takes Gianni by the arm.

- Come, what are you doing here? he whispers. The countess has arrived.

- I'm coming, says Gianni, quickly taking a sip of his cocktail. He turns his back on me and follows Massimiliano.

I watch them walk away: Massimiliano has the typical winning attitude of established artists, moving with ease and absolute mastery of the situation, as if he were the protagonist of the exhibition. Gianni, on the other hand, retains a kind of underlying shyness, the same one that occasionally emerges with me too: Massimiliano is undoubtedly the dominant element of the couple. I think to myself that, despite his corpulent build and his now thinning, gray, and rather long hair, he is still a very interesting man. He is dressed in a seemingly casual, but in reality very refined, style, that characteristic semi-informal style of successful men who have nothing to prove to anyone. The dark blue shirt is by Trussardi, as I deduce from the greyhound logo embroidered on one corner of the collar, severe and elegant, contrasting with the light, unstructured Armani jacket, the jeans, and the slightly boyish sneakers. Around his neck hangs a pair of very expensive and exclusive Epos Bronte 3 glasses with dark blue satin frames, which he displays coquettishly. Gianni, on the other hand, only wears glasses when we're looking at photos on the computer in his study: his eyesight is still good. Neither of them looks gay: they resemble, respectively, a decadent dandy, too bored to think about sex, and a Brianza industrialist who preys on young girls.

Meanwhile, the countess continues to assume various extravagant poses for the paparazzi, alternately jutting her breasts and bottom forward and backward.

- These rascals, she modulates in a slightly croaky contralto voice, they follow me wherever I go. After all, what do you want? It's my destiny: the ephemeral is my kingdom, and nothing is more apparent than the ephemeral. Guys, follow me, I'm going to look at the photographs: that's why we're here, isn't it?

The Countess advances toward the central hall, which houses photographs of the church of Merate: I appear in almost all of them, in the guise of Apollo or the Archangel Gabriel. Gianni and Massimiliano accompany her on her tour.

- But this painting... or is it a photo?, asks Ajroldi, stopping in front of "Apollo in a Gothic Church," which portrays me life-size between two columns of the church in Merate.

- It's a photo, Countess, explains Gianni, but appropriately retouched, so that it looks like an oil painting.

- Well, Gandolfini, congratulations: not just for the technique, but also for the subject, the idea, everything. But who is the model?

- He's a country boy, a shy and reserved type.

- This guy absolutely has to be at my parties. I absolutely want him at the villa and at Amnesie too, ab-so-lu-tely!

- I don't think that's possible, Gianni smiles, It's not suitable for your parties, Countess.

- Don't be kidding, Gandolfini! This boy is stardust: I'll convert him with a couple of lines of coke, the country boy. Isn't he here?"

- No, he didn't want to come.

- Outrageous! You should have forced him.

- In any case, Countess, Massimiliano intervenes annoyed, allow me to tell you that your enthusiasm is excessive: passable body, in fact quite well made, but take a closer look at the subject's face.

- I'm observing him, Cattaneo: so, what should I notice?

- The expression, Countess.

The countess squints to see better and focuses on the face of the "subject" (myself).

- Well, yes, it seems to me that he has an expression a little bit...

- A little bit?, Massimiliano urges.

- A little bit like...

Massimiliano explodes:

- And say it, Countess! Like an idiot!

The noblewoman hesitates, looking now at Gianni and now at Massimiliano; then she smiles:

- I wouldn't say like an idiot: I'd rather say like a tender absent-minded.

- What absent-minded?, Massimiliano blurts out again. He has the look of a boiled fish. Imbecile, completely imbecile!"

- Massy... Gianni tries to intervene.

- Forget it, Gianni, I know you want to defend your work and I understand. But this boy has a complete lack of intelligence in his eyes, admit it. "Void of Intellect," that's what you should have titled the painting.

- Massy, Gianni replies firmly, the void was intentional: he was meant to embody Apollo, and his gaze was meant to express the gods' indifference to human affairs. It's not me who needs to remind you of Montale's lines: "I knew nothing, except the prodigy revealed by divine Indifference: it was the statue in the midday drowsiness, and the cloud, and the high-soaring falcon."

Massimiliano bursts into a hearty laugh.

- Even the display of classical culture! Well done, that's what we needed! But it doesn't work with me, Giannino, you know: this guy doesn't have the divine indifference of the gods in his eyes, he has an absolute emptiness in his brain. A pneumatic void, at most a few cobwebs.

The Countess takes the opportunity to remind those present of her artistic roots.

- I love Montale: and how could I not, since I am his humble disciple? "No one can stop you; you must fly with your own wings..."

Massimiliano gallantly kisses her hand.

- Exquisite verses, Countess.

- Speaking of exquisite, let's go see what this wonderful buffet has to offer... Oh, I see our Marta's here! Excuse me, everyone, I can't help but adore her.

The Countess walks away quickly towards "our Marta".

There's a stormy atmosphere between Massimiliano and Gianni: they stare at each other for a few seconds without saying anything. From my corner, I can see everything and follow the developments with some apprehension.

- Darling, Massimiliano hisses, I have a few words to say to you in private.

- Whenever you want, Gianni replies coldly.

- Right away.

- Okay, then in the other room.

The other room is near the door where I stand, unseen, hidden by a gigantic and providential Ficus Benjamina tree. I decide there's no point in being discreet: I want to understand something more, to understand the situation I've gotten myself into. So I lean against the wall with apparent nonchalance, sipping my cocktail, and listen to their bickering. It's not difficult for me to do so, because they're talking animatedly, loudly, and with the door open.

 

Sunday, August 10, 2025

2.8. Paradise Bar (Finally, Emmanuel and Gianni see each other again) - Season 2 finale episode

(September 1998).

- Here I am.

- Thanks for coming.

- You're welcome.

- Sit down, don't stand.

- Do you want to talk here, among the people?

- Yes, please. If you don't mind.

- Okay.

- Paradise Bar is one of my favorites: you'll love it, you'll see. I love its warm, informal atmosphere. The food is excellent, and there's a wide selection of natural and organic wines.

- Thank you, but I have no intention of dining here, nor of drinking wine.

- I was just saying. You know, this bar hides a little secret: the "Underground Paradise," an area accessible only through a trapdoor.

- Really? Interesting. You're always a mine of gastronomic information and local curiosities. And where does that trapdoor lead?

- In an underground refuge dedicated to tastings and special evenings.

- Fantastic. Too bad we can't take advantage of it.

- Yeah, that's a shame. What should I order? The usual pineapple juice?

- Yes please.

- Waiter, please, a nice cold pineapple juice, but without ice, and a Campari soda with a slice of orange.

(Silence)

- I'm sorry I've been harassing you on the phone all this time. It's not my style, believe me. I apologize.

- There must be a reason you did that, I imagine. I'm here to find out.

- I'll explain in a moment. But tell me a little about yourself: how are you getting on with your new photographer?

- Normal. He takes pictures of me and that's it. He's good.

- Yes, Guido is one of the best in the area. And what about the rest? How's it going with your nursery and your baby?

- Fairly well in both cases. The nursery is starting to sell well, and the child, more or less, accepts my presence, even if he doesn't know I'm his father.

- I imagine this makes you a little uncomfortable.

- Yes, definitely. But I don't feel like talking about it now.

- You've cut your hair a bit, I see.

- I got extensions like you asked.

- Yes, but I still notice it.

- Guido prefers it shorter.

- You look good anyway, but don't overdo it: as I've always told you, your body type requires long hair. Guido doesn't understand it because he's straight, and straight people don't understand shit about aesthetics. They're always vulgar and predictable. It's no coincidence, evidently, that all the greatest artists were gay.

- Yes, I've always thought so. I see you've grown your hair out, though.

- Yes, I wanted to seem a little less obvious and insignificant.

- You've never been obvious or insignificant, Gianni. Am I wrong, or have you dyed them a little?

- Yes, I dyed my hair brown to… to try…

- To try to please boys more?

- I did it yesterday, Emmanuel: I haven't seen any boys yet.

- Now, you don't mean to make me believe you did it for me, especially since I've always liked your gray hair. Anyway, long hair looks great on you, and so do your round glasses: you look like some kind of intellectual D'Artagnan, you have an old-fashioned nobility.

- You're always kind to me, little sparrow... Sorry, I didn't mean to call you little sparrow: it slipped out.

- That's fine, Gianni. Hey, cheer up: why are you so depressed?

- I made you come all the way here to explain it to you.

- Then do it, please.

- Are you in a hurry to leave?

- No, I'm in no hurry.

- First of all I have to apologize: that day with Aaron I behaved in a despicable way towards you.

- Yes, absolutely. You've offended me to no end, Gianni.

- I know. I want to explain why I did it.

- Maybe just because you liked Aaron and wanted to get rid of me.

- You're completely off base, and besides, I'm sorry to point this out, you're not thinking clearly. If that were the case, I would have taken advantage of the opportunity to cut you out of my life, and I certainly wouldn't have obsessed you with constant phone calls and requests to see you again.

- Yes, I thought about that too, but I believed it was just a little remorse for making me feel so sick.

- Were you really that sick?

- To die for.

- So it's just as I thought.

- Meaning what?

- I'll get there later.

- How is Aaron?

- I imagine he's doing just fine: he's in the States and is the kept man of an elderly billionaire.

- Come on: has he started working as a gigolo?

- Exactly. After all, it was right up his alley.

- He was nice, Aaron: if it weren't for the fact that I was stupidly jealous of him…

- Yes, very stupidly, believe me: I only had eyes for you.

- You wouldn't have thought so. By the way, how did the advertising campaign for the Smart Fortwo go?

- Very bad, honey: unfortunately, you were right, they found the idea of two big, burly guys riding together in a Smart car ridiculous. They entrusted the campaign to another, much less original photographer, who, as usual, featured a couple of women. The height of predictability.

- I'm sorry, Gianni, seriously.

- Besides, all my work isn't going well. I've lost inspiration, my shots are now banal. You were my muse.

- Gianni, I… I mean, I'm sorry, I work with Guido now, but if you need me… I just can't afford to pay two photographers, that's all.

- No, honey, I'm not asking you to take pictures with me again; except that if that happened, I wouldn't charge you for the service: we'd make half the commission fee. But that's not why I wanted to see you; it has nothing to do with the photos.

- So tell me, Gianni.

- That day I had decided to end things with you: that's why I treated you in that absurd way, even involving Aaron.

- But why, Gianni? What did I do to you?

- Nothing: you simply exist.

- Oh, I get it: it's always the same old story. I'm "too much," I make people feel bad, etc. So I just got another door slammed in my face, that's all.

- No, wait, it's not that simple. I thought I absolutely had to break up with you, but I didn't have the strength, so to achieve it I chose the crudest and most offensive means: I tried to make it so that you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me anymore.

- Well, Gianni, I'm letting you know you've succeeded. I still don't quite understand why you had to end things with me at all costs, instead of seeking a compromise or something like that, but I take note.

- Emmanuel, I couldn't find any compromise of any kind, because I already loved you.

- Gianni… But I don't understand, we had already talked about it that night, and it seemed to me that…

- Darling, it wasn't as simple as it seemed. I thought about you day and night, counting the minutes until I'd see you again, you understand? I wasn't living anymore. Even going without sex was just a pretext to avoid ruining everything: I couldn't risk never seeing you again. But that was precisely the point: I was now willing to give up everything just to have your presence: you had become as necessary to me as the air I breathed, and I didn't understand why and I was getting more scared every day.

- So you've decided to bust the bank?

- Yes, exactly.

- "I understand you, Gianni. You chose a cruel way to get rid of me, but deep down I understand you: if I had become such an unbearable burden to you, it's only natural that you chose to rid yourself of me by cruel and violent means. Now that I know, I bear you no grudge; you were right to tell me. Perhaps you called me here because you wanted to apologize and earn my forgiveness? Then know that I forgive you with all my heart, because you were sincere.

- No, darling, that's not all.

- Isn't that all? What else is there?

- When I saw your angry reaction, I realized you really cared about me, too. Your desperate cries, like a wounded lion cub, pierced my heart from top to bottom. I didn't expect such a reaction from you, you know?

- Oh, so you thought I was a spineless wimp? Thanks for the appreciation.

- "No, I didn't think so. I thought you were a calmer animal, that's all; I didn't attribute to you the nobility of a lion cub. And yet you are. And then I thought you didn't really care much about me. After all, what could you care about a middle-aged guy with no particular attraction? Yes, maybe it could have been some kind of youthful crush, the kind that passes like clouds blown by the wind. But your reaction, both then and afterward, made me think of something more serious.

- Gianni, I thought I let you know I had serious feelings for you. Now don't ask me to explain why: love always catches you off guard. It just happens.

- But this changed things completely. I thought leaving you would hurt terribly for a while, but eventually I'd get over it. I thought in hindsight it would appear for what it was, or rather I believed it to be: the typical midlife crisis of a gay man who falls head over heels for a kid, but who inevitably comes to his senses when he realizes that for the kid it was just a small, fleeting crush, destined to pass in a few weeks. It's like taking a really strong punch in the face: it stuns you at first, but then you come to your senses and realize that you were the idiot, that you wanted to challenge someone much stronger than you.

- Well, it wasn't like that, Gianni. It wasn't like that. I truly loved you, and it hurt me so much. I couldn't believe you wanted to throw me out of your life for no apparent reason.

- I know, I get it.

- Now that I know the reason, it still hurts, but at least I realize you had a serious reason for doing it. Thank you for telling me.

(A few seconds of silence)

- Emmanuel, I…

- What's wrong? Gianni, please, I can't see you so sad.

- I just don't know how to get out of this.

- From what?

- I kicked you out of my life, but now I'm in a terrible place. I wanted to be the hero, the teacher, the Socrates of the situation, but I'm just a miserable idiot. I can't live without you, I can't live, do you understand? I beg you to come back into my life somehow, no matter what.

- Is that why you sent for me?

- Yes. I apologize for this. I didn't mean to bother you. I know I'm making a fool of myself, but I beg you: I'd get down on my knees if we weren't in a bar. I love you, Emmanuel, I love you with all my soul. Please, I beg you: I need you. You choose the way, any way, as long as I can see you.

(A few seconds of silence)

- It's incredible what you told me, you know?

- I'm sorry, I…

- Gianni, don't apologize: what you just did is beautiful, you know? Beautiful and courageous. No one, ever, begged me to stay in their life.

- I thought it would bother you to hear me ask that.

- Bother me? Oh Gianni, you've made me incredibly happy! For weeks I'd been living with a crushing weight on my shoulders, my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice: everything I did had a horrible bitter aftertaste, it was as if there was poison in the air I breathed. Now I can breathe deeply, I feel like I'm flying. Thank you, truly.

- You're welcome, little one: it's the honest truth.

- Look at me, Gianni: smile, you don't have to be sad.

- Why should I smile?

- Because I'm about to tell you something nice.

- Yes? And which one?

- I love you too.

- What are you saying, child?

- The truth: I love you.

- I don't understand... If this is a joke, please tell me right away.

- I never joke about these things, Gianni. I really love you.

(Silence)

- Let's try not to cry, little one…

- Give me your hand, Gianni.

- But here, in front of everyone? People are looking at us.

- Who cares. Let me stroke your hair, I love it so much.

- Please don't make fun of me: I'm just an old gay man with his hair dyed by a hairdresser. A ridiculous being.

- You're beautiful, Gianni. I think you're beautiful.

- If you see me as beautiful, you are truly in love: only lovers are that blind.

- Yes, I'm blind and in love, maybe even stupid, but I don't want to know why all this is happening. Leave me alone, Gianni: I'm happy, damn it, I'm happy! You love me, you came back looking for me, and I'm holding your hand. I'm experiencing one of the best moments of my life, I don't care about the whys or wherefores.

- We're in trouble, my love.

- Why?

- I can't be with you, you know: I'm with another man. But there's more: even if that weren't the case, I can't touch your body with sexual intent. It seems sacrilegious to me, and I would never want you to touch my withered body for sexual purposes: I'd be mortally ashamed.

- It's not faded at all, but okay, I acknowledge your taboos and respect them. We'll do without sex.

- So what can we do together? We can't live together or apart. That's why I'm telling you we're in trouble.

- Listen to me, love… Can I call you love?

- Of course you can, even if it seems out of this world. I'll touch myself to see if I'm awake.

- We need to think calmly, lay things out on the table one by one, and calmly seek a solution. With a little goodwill, you can find a solution to anything.

- You say?

- I mean. We just have to try to be absolutely honest.

- Yes, that's for sure: you saw what a mess I made trying to deceive you.

- Indeed. And so let's put the first fact on the table: we love each other.

- Yes.

- This is something we're not responsible for. You can consider it a gift or a curse, depending on your point of view, but the result remains the same: we can't do anything about it.

- Indeed: it just happened to us.

- Then it's not a fault: up to this point, we're both fine. We can't eliminate the feelings we have for each other, and that's not a bad thing in itself. It can be bad to try to translate them into something we shouldn't do: you, for example, would be very uncomfortable if you cheated on your Massimiliano.

- It's worse than that: as I told you, I couldn't cheat on him with you, because you're not a fling to me. I'd leave him forever, and then live in regret for the rest of my life.

- But then I understand that you couldn't cheat on him with me even if you wanted to, given that you have that sort of sexual taboo towards me.

- Look, darling, this is something I can't believe. It's never happened to me with anyone, you know? The more I want you, the more I shy away from you.

- We'll get over it, Gianni: in fact, in a certain sense it helps us.

- So, darling, what's left for us to do together?

- Everything else, Gianni. Lots of things, really, lots. It's the soul that loves, not the body, right? Our souls will learn to love each other by walking, calling each other, saying nice things, holding hands like now, telling each other about their days, etc., etc. Actually, you know what came to mind?

- What, my love?

- Arriving here, on the outskirts, I saw a huge multi-screen cinema: we could spend a few days together in there watching good films, eating together at the bar, sitting in the armchairs in the waiting rooms and gazing at the view below us from the top-floor windows: it will be like being perched in Paradise, munching on colorful chocolates, out of this world.

- That's a wonderful idea, little one.

- Then maybe one day we'll come back here and slip through that trapdoor you were talking about, huh? And if you want to take some pictures of me, of course, we'll take those too. What do you think of my proposal?

- I don't know what to say, because I have to wake up first: I'm having a strange dream in which an angel with extensions sitting across from me at a bar table holds my hand and suggests I enter Heaven with him, instead of kicking me out for the harm I've done to him. So yes, I'm definitely dreaming, and I'll wake up soon.

- Gianni, we're already in Paradise: this is Paradise Bar, don't you remember? Stop crying, come on.

- We're becoming as corny as two characters from a photo novel, little marmot.

- Oh, you finally called me a woodchuck again. You have no idea how much I've missed you. Yes, we are saccharine and cloying. Steeped in molasses like Alice's dormouse, sweet and sticky.

- We really suck, everyone's watching us. And I've never felt better in my life.

- Give me a kiss. A kiss is allowed, it's allowed by the rules.

- What rules?

- The ones from Paradise.

Monday, August 04, 2025

2.7. The Trial (Emmanuel decides he has had enough)

- Emmanuel, there's no point in trying to deny the evidence: you should have been more careful.

- Michael, I don't need you to tell me this: I've been telling myself this since yesterday. I should have been more careful, though I still don't understand how, damn it. Actually, I think I'm just really unlucky: I was extremely careful, I didn't lose sight of Martino for even a second. When he got hurt, he was walking next to me and I was holding his hand.

- Darling, my mother intervenes sweetly, the fact is that you shouldn’t have made him take off his shoes.

- Yes Mom, you're right, I shouldn't have made him walk barefoot.

- Yeah, right - my brother confirms ironically, with the tone of someone who says "poor fool, he can't understand the obvious."

- But then, Emmanuel, my father adds, you can't take such liberties with someone else's son. How did you get the idea to take him for a walk as if he were your own son? I really don't understand you.

I am at the height of exasperation.

- Dad, Michael isn't the child's father either, but you've never had any complaints about him taking him wherever he wants.

- What, are you jealous of Michael because Antonia asked him to be her godfather?

- Dad…

- Calm down, brother, Michael interrupts me, appropriately changing the subject. I've never taken Martino out without Antonia. At most, I'll take him here, to the villa, where Mom and Teresa never let him out of their sight. But I've never dreamed of taking him out alone to dangerous places.

- Dangerous!, I blurt out. The Orco Creek is dangerous on a summer's day? I spent half my adolescence there!

- Apparently it's dangerous, since the little one got hurt.

I remain silent, nursing my anger and bitterness. I don't feel justified even as a father, which I am, but what I'm undergoing is a Kafkaesque trial in which I'm a nobody who, for who knows what reason, has taken the liberty of carrying someone else's child around, and this makes my blood boil. I'm about to blurt out, "Fuck you, assholes, haven't you realized yet that he's my son?"

I'm holding myself back just in time, and only because I should explain a few things to my parents about my relationship with my brother's ex-wife. Sometimes I think it would be better to do so, even at the risk of sparking outrage and scandal: it would be the only way to clarify the situation. But right now, I'm sorry to admit, I don't care enough: I don't see why I should go to all this trouble to clarify things with people who, deep down, have no desire to understand me. Better not to care, and let them think what they want.

Teresa, who is serving coffee, allows herself to intervene with a smile, seeing me in difficulty.

- Manuelito thinks they were all like him - she says good-naturedly, to lighten the mood.

- You're absolutely right, Teresa, my mother confirms. As a child, he used to jump like a goat from rock to rock in the streams and never got hurt. But Antonia's baby is more fragile than you, darling: you can see it...

- True, - I confirm, - I reasoned with the head of someone who never got hurt as a child, but evidently not everyone is like me.

- How did Antonia take it?, my father asks. I don't have time to answer: Michael beats me to it.

- How do you think she took it, Dad? Very badly. She was very angry, especially since she's against vaccinations at too early an age; but in this case, Emmanuel did the right thing by giving him the tetanus shot.

- Of course, there was no alternative. How's the baby now?

- So-so. He can't put his foot down and his leg is a little swollen. But he has a strong character and is coping well, at least psychologically: I managed to get him to play a bit with his Sapientino, and he was in good spirits.

- I imagine, my mother says timidly, that she won’t want to see Emmanuel anymore, after what happened.

- Not really, my brother replies. He said 'bad Unkl" several times, but then, while we were playing, he turned to look and asked where 'Unk Manu' was, who in the meantime had left, slamming the door.

- And I don't think I'll see him again for a while, 'Unk Manu', I reply sarcastically. I'm not even thinking about setting foot in that house again, after the way Antonia treated me.

- Emmanuel, try to understand: it was an absolutely inevitable emotional reaction given the circumstances, but then she apologized to you.

- I don't know what to do with her apologies, especially when you suggested them. Do you think I didn't notice?

I didn't mean to be so arrogant, but I'm on edge and I'm fed up with this trial. I can't wait to leave.

- Darling, you'll see that when the child gets better everything will be back to normal: the incident will be forgotten.

I look at my mother coldly.

- You see, Mom, I'm the one who doesn't forget. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off: I have a couple of appointments with some clients at the nursery this afternoon.

- Aren't you staying for lunch with us?

- No, thank you.

- It's still early, it's only ten o'clock.

- I'm in a hurry, Mom: I have to go to the hairdresser to get my hair extensions done.

- Your… extensions?... You're kidding, right?

- Of course, Mom.

- Well, if this is a joke, why don't you stay and eat with us?

- Mom, I have things to do: I have to work if I want to pay back the loan.

I give a dramatic bow to the assembly and turn on my heels.

 

...

 

- The slightly longer kabélu suits you, Prins.

- Thanks, May.

- Did Guido ask you?

- No, Carlos, it was my initiative.

- Sure?

- Absolutely.

- Anyway, Prince, you should have been more careful: someone can get seriously hurt in a creek.

- Oh fuck!, I blurt out, exasperated. You too, Carlos?

- Irmùn..., Mayra begins, seeing the storm gathering on my face.

- No May, what's right is right: you can't always agree with him even when he's wrong.

- Okay Carlos, I get it: bye, guys.

I noisily push the wooden chair aside and stand up.

- Oh no, Prinsy! Wait, have a slice of cake...

- Thanks May, no.

Bella, annoyed by all the commotion, starts barking.

- Shut up, Bella!, I exclaim. Bella yelps and falls silent.

Mayra suddenly loses her patience.

- That's enough for both of you now, okay?! Listen to me, irmùn: Prinsy did his best, and it's not his fault if he made a mistake. We all make mistakes. Don't you ever make any?

Then he turns to me sweetly:

- And you, Manu, when you do things like this, maybe call me, I'll gladly partner you: four eyes can see better than two. I'll give you a hand looking at the minìnu.

I smile at her, but reply:

- Thanks, May: you're basically telling me that I can't take care of my son alone.

- Oh no, don't think it, Manu... I would never dare!

- Eh, but that's exactly what you said.

- Also because that's what happened, Prince, Carlos concludes without animosity, with the tone of a simple statement.

I throw my denim jacket over my shoulder.

- All right, guys, I understand. Thanks for everything.

- But Prinsy...

- I'm tired, May, it's been a really hard day. I'm going home to sleep.

- Don't you want to stay here?

- No thanks, not tonight. Come on, Bella.

I take a few steps towards the exit, then turn around at the threshold.

- Oh, by the way: I won't see you tomorrow, I have a very important appointment in Milan.

- With Guido? - Carlos asks me.

I smile.

- It’s my business, I reply, and leave.

I close the door behind me and hear them arguing heatedly: Mayra is scolding her brother. I pretend not to hear and get into my SUV.

As I drive to my little house in Baldissero, I feel a sharp sense of loneliness and immense relief at having gotten everyone out of my hair, with the exception of Mayra, who, however, was irritating this evening with her charitable offers of help. Tears of anger and disappointment well up in my eyes at the thought that I had truly done my best with Martino: evidently my best is far below par. A thought crosses my mind: it would have been better, much better, if I hadn't brought him into the world. This thought is so horrible that it paralyzes something inside me. I must be crazy. Martino is a special child; I don't know how I could harbor regrets like that: even if I were never worthy of the role of a father, it would still have been important to give him the chance to live, live as he pleases, with anyone else. And if he doesn't like me, so be it. I wouldn't like having a gay, clumsy father who endangers me instead of protecting me either.

I swallow back my tears and carry on unperturbed. I banish all memories of those last two days and make room for just one thought: tomorrow I'll see Gianni again.

For some time now, I've been having a strange dream: we're walking side by side along a golden country path. Everything around us is the color of gold: even the air is golden. Suddenly, he wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me so violently that he almost suffocates me; I'm forced to resist and push him away a little. I say softly, "You're taking my breath away, Gianni."

I don't want to cultivate any hopes or fears: things will go as they will, but right now the only source of sweetness in that desert is he.

He who wanted to see me again at all costs.

He who trampled on his dignity and pride just to stay in touch with me, even though I hung up on him every time.

He who went to great lengths to see this failure who never gets anywhere, this loser who everyone finds fault with.

He who finds this loser wonderful.

Pygmalion loves his statue, he sees her as beautiful, he doesn't notice her flaws, and she inevitably returns his love.

My Pygmalion.

He, the one, the only one.

Gianni.

I don't care about other people's opinions now.

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

2.6. Pee, Daddy! - Part II (The situation explodes)

(August 1998)

Code yellow. The wait is long, exhausting: I'll be very late, Antonia will be beside herself. As I sit on the plastic chair in the waiting room with the baby in my arms, I give her a call and make up some excuse to explain the delay, trying to sound completely natural. I tell her we went to visit Mayra at the greenhouse and that she entertained us with one of her desserts. She falls for it. I hang up.

Finally, our turn arrives: we enter the emergency room and are met by a portly nurse, almost Mayra's size, but lacking any of her maternal sweetness. She wears glasses, her hair tied in a tight bun on top of her head, and her classic white uniform - a short-sleeved tunic and pants -shows visible sweat rings under her armpits despite the air conditioning. She sits Martino down on a bed, removes the handkerchief, and examines his foot.

- How did the little one get hurt? - she asks inquisitively. I hold Martino's hand firmly in mine, which is shaking a little, and answer:

- He was taking a few steps in a stream and cut himself on something that was on the bottom.

The nurse looks me up and down:

- Are you the father?

Embarrassed, not knowing how to keep the child from hearing my answer, I nod, my head behind his shoulder. Unexpectedly, Martino answers for me:

- Unk Manu.

- Oh, so you're the uncle, not the father. And why did you say you are the father?

I shrug, resigned.

- How did you come up with the idea of leaving such a small child alone in a stream?

- The water there is shallow and almost still, there's a kind of pond... - I begin to justify myself, but immediately a wave of rebellion comes over me: "What the hell does this woman want from me? How dare she grill me like this?"

- Anyway, he wasn’t alone, - I continue dryly. - I was walking with him and holding his hand, and then there was my dog, too.

Your dog?

- Look, - I say brusquely, - the child wasn't alone, okay? I don't think it's worth wasting time on a trial: it's a matter of treating the wound, disinfecting it, and possibly giving him a tetanus shot, because I haven't been able to figure out what he cut himself on. Are you willing to do that or not?

- The tetanus shot, no doubt. You put the baby in danger - she insists, staring at me coldly. I hold her gaze: I say nothing, but I start to move toward the triage area, intending to request the intervention of another, less obnoxious nurse. Finally, she leaves to fetch gauze, bandages, disinfectant, and the necessary equipment for the injection.

- Now, - I whisper to Martino, picking him up, - this lady will make your sore spot go away. You'll feel a tiny prick, but it won't hurt at all.

Soundless tears flow from Martino's eyes: I dry them with my handkerchief and cover his cheeks with kisses.

- Ug-ly lady - he sobs.

I think exactly the same way he does, but I mustn't let him know.

- But no, darling, she's not ugly: she's a good lady who's taking care of your little foot now.

He hides his face in my shoulder. I hold him like that while the nurse administers the injection, which causes him to flinch slightly.

- Done, it’s all over now - I tell him, hugging him to my chest and stroking his hair.

The nurse observes the wound.

- I was afraid I'd have to stitch him up, but fortunately, with a good dressing and a tight bandage, we can avoid that.

I breathe a sigh of relief: we were also missing the stitches and the related anesthesia.

Martino stoically endures the dressing, without complaint: I admire him greatly; for such a small boy, he shows great strength of spirit. Meanwhile, I never stop holding his hand and stroking his head, not even for a moment.

Finally, I thank the nurse, who, while unpleasant, did a great job. She doesn't even answer me: she nods, turns on her heel, and goes back through the glass door. I pick up the baby and leave the emergency room, eager to get to the hospital parking lot where I'd left the Suzuki with Bella inside, obviously with the windows open and a bowl of water available.

- Is everything okay? - I ask Martino, after settling him into his car seat. He nods, but the downturned corners of his mouth suggest otherwise. I caress his cheek again, climb into the driver's seat, and drive off.

And here I am on my way home. I've done my daily stupid thing: who knows what Antonia will say to me soon, how many curses she'll throw at me, who knows if she'll let me carry Martino around again. Besides, I've done what I could: the wound has been treated, and the tetanus shot will ward off the worst. I caress his bandaged foot, but he pushes my hand away.

- Bad Unk! - he exclaims.

- You're right, Martino, - I admit, dejectedly. - I'm a careless uncle, but I love you. You'll see, your little foot will heal quickly.

Martino, offended, doesn't respond. I turn the stereo back on and put on the lullaby covers he loves so much, but the baby whines impatiently. I turn off the stereo and drive for a few minutes in silence. Suddenly, my cell phone rings: I've connected it to the stereo on speakerphone. Instinctively, I reach out to turn it off, but then I think that Martino is too young to understand. I don't want to be offensive to Gianni; I don't want to hang up on him. I pull my arm back and put my hand on the steering wheel, feigning indifference so as not to arouse suspicion in Martino, who's watching me out of the corner of his eye. Gianni's voice carries clearly through the car.

- Emmanuel, love, are you there? You're driving, right? I can hear the engine: put it on speakerphone, please, I don't want you to be in any danger because of me. I know you're not answering, but please listen to me. Don't hang up, please.

A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, while Martino becomes strangely attentive.

- I think about you every day, you know? I never forget you for a second. I'd love to meet you to explain... explain some important things to you, that's all.

Martino lets out a little scream.

- Oh, but I sense you're not alone: is your little one with you? What an adorable little voice...

I bite my tongue bloody to avoid answering him. Meanwhile, Martino continues to chirp, and Gianni melts into raptures:

- God, what an adorable little creature... You're lucky, darling, to have a little marmot of your own. I'll never be able to have one... I... I only had you, as a marmot, and now I've lost you...

Gianni sobs softly. My embarrassment is sky-high. Suddenly, Martino bursts into hysterical laughter, like the one he greeted me with when he first saw me.

I hear Gianni stammer:

- Your little one laughs at me… Emmanuel, my love, I'm afraid I'll have to say goodbye. I'm becoming an unbearable burden to you: I'm drowning your life in ridicule…

Gianni cries silently, while Martino laughs more and more amused.

- Goodbye, my love: forgive me for everything - Gianni concludes with a sob, and hangs up.

Martino is still laughing.

My heart explodes into a thousand pieces. I immediately dial Gianni's number again: he doesn't answer. I drive in a daze for several minutes, blood pounding in my temples, dialing that number over and over again. It's voicemail; I leave him a terse, peremptory message:

- Gianni, call me back, damn it.

After a few minutes that seem like an eternity, I finally hear my cell phone ring. I take it off speakerphone and put it to my ear, heedless of any traffic regulations.

- Gianni.

- Emmanuel.

- Gianni.

Contact re-established. I take a deep breath and begin again:

- Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. The child...

- Oh, your adorable little child… what do you expect him to know, poor thing: he simply thought I was ridiculous, which in fact I am.

- You're not ridiculous. You hurt me, but you're not ridiculous, damn it! Do you understand?

- My love, it was precisely to explain some things to you that I wanted to see you again.

I sigh deeply.

- When?

- When you can.

- The day after tomorrow at four.

- All right.

- Where?

- I'm coming to Turin, I don't want you to run all the way here.

- No, not in Turin: I'd rather come to Milan. Where?

- At the Paradiso bar. Do you know it?

- No, but I'll find it.

- Do you still have long hair, love?

- No, Gianni, I cut it in the meantime.

- Oh no, please! I want to see you again as you were, my angel: and angels have long hair.

- But I can't grow it in two days!

- Get extensions, please: like that day we met, remember?

- Okay, I'll see what I can do.

- I am grateful to you from the bottom of my soul, Emmanuel.

- See you the day after tomorrow.

I hang up.

I'm drenched in sweat, my heart is beating haphazardly, no longer bothering to alternate systole and diastole. I slump back against the seat. I turn on the stereo and forcefully turn up the volume, not giving Martino any right to reply, and in fact he remains silent. I caress his hair.

- Does your foot hurt? - I ask him.

He shakes his head decisively, like a real man.

- What do we tell Mom? That you tripped over a sharp rock?

He shakes his head again.

- And what do we tell her then?

His response leaves me speechless:

- Emanue love.

He bursts out laughing again.

- Emanue love, Emanue love, Emanue love… - he repeats laughing, in a mocking tone.

He may be my son, but he's a cruel creature, and that's a trait he couldn't have inherited from me. I swallow my anger and frustration, trying to remind myself that I'm the one at fault: I wasn't careful enough and let him get hurt, so I deserve this and more. Besides, I'm happy that the child is back in a good mood and laughing, even if he's laughing at me.

And now, “Emmanuel love,” prepare to receive a dressing down from Antonia.

I sigh without saying anything else and concentrate on driving, comforted by Bella's presence in the trunk and the prospect of dinner with Carlos and Mayra.

But another, more intense joy is melting my heart like a popsicle in an open refrigerator: soon, very soon, I will see Gianni again.

 

 

Thursday, July 24, 2025

2.5. Pee, Daddy! - Part I (It was supposed to be a nice trip...)

(August 1998).

- Please, Emmanuel, be careful: the baby is still very small. Please don't put him in danger.

A sense of impatience assails me at these words: I can't stand being treated by Antonia as some kind of mentally handicapped person, good only for occasional sex. I want to be respected, not treated with the condescension we use towards limited individuals to avoid making them feel too inferior. I want to feel the way Gianni made me feel, unique and precious; I realize how irreplaceable the hyperbolic admiration that only a gay man can have for another man is: no woman can make you feel that way. It truly becomes a drug, incredibly difficult to do without; and, needless to say, I've fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

But that, unfortunately or fortunately, is water under the bridge. My present is here, with this woman and this child, and if it weren't for the bitterness that envelops my days like a toxic smoke, I could almost say I'm happy; but there's no point lying to oneself: I'm not. After all, happiness is a chimera, one must be content with what one has, one must ask the gods not for what one desires, but to free oneself from desire, and so on. I'd like to at least feel serene, that's all: but the tone of indulgent superiority that Antonia always uses with me prevents me from doing so, irritates me.

- Antonia, I say to her, is it possible that you consistently take me for an imbecile? I know he's small, and it's not the first time I've brought him with me, I think?

- Yes, but before it was different: he couldn't walk yet, you put him in a baby carrier and took him for walks like that around the woods or to those strange places you like.

- Of course, I'm the usual loser who takes him around the woods or "to those weird places I like," which, coincidentally, you used to like too: not to San Sicario in the new cabin or to the pool at the villa. I wonder why, huh?

- Emmanuel, come on, don't start…

- Anyway, yes, I also took him around the woods and along the stream: so what? Sometimes I even took him to the mountains and once even to the sea, and nothing ever happened to him.

- Of course, because while you were walking, he was hanging on your back or your chest. But now that he's started walking, everything's different: he's in full exploration mode, he's never still. Even at home, he's constantly falling to the floor around every corner; I'd have to have a thousand eyes to keep an eye on him. So please, be careful.

- I'll be very careful. And Bella's there to help me: Martino loves to walk clinging to her fur, and she's very patient with him.

- Yes, she's a good dog.

Bella confirms with a bark and a broad smile, letting her tongue hang out. I often have the impression that my dog understands Italian, or at least grasps the general gist of what's being said. Martino gives me this impression now too: he understands many words and simple sentences. He's a very curious child, decidedly intelligent, he understands cause and effect relationships, and he's starting to construct two-word sentences, which, from what I've read, represent a fairly advanced stage in a child's logical-linguistic development. I've often heard him say "Mom food" or "Cat ball" when he wants a ball to throw to Gino, who plays with it like an expert soccer player, dribbling around obstacles and making him laugh heartily.

Of course, I don't have the slightest memory of what I was like at his age, but I think I was a rather silly child, the kind who enjoys sitting in their mother's arms and looking around with a dazed, dreamy expression. I loved playing in the garden, yes, I remember that perfectly: I learned to run very early, and I often scraped my knees from falling; but, according to my mother, I never cried.

Antonia finally gives me the baby: I pick him up. He paws the ground and squeals a little, wanting to walk on his own, but I don't let go: I place him in the front seat of the Suzuki, in his special child seat, put Bella in the trunk, go back to give Antonia a kiss, and start the car.

It's a beautiful, warm August day: I turn on the stereo and put in a record that Martino really likes: it's a lullaby reworking of some famous rock songs I loved and still love. I would never have thought, for example, that Nirvana would lend itself so well to cradle-themed covers, but that's not at all strange: there's almost always something childishly catchy about the melodic turns of Kurt's songs, a sort of self-consoling evocation of childhood memories. Martino hums Nirvana in his own unique way, confirming that he really is my son, and he seems quite at ease in his comfy car seat.

It's already half past two, so we can't go far. I'll take Martino to the Orco stream, where I often went as a boy with his mother to study: it's nice to see those places again. Now that I've re-established a relationship with Antonia and our situation has, for better or worse, reached a point of equilibrium, it no longer hurts to return: in fact, I'm happy to take my son and my dog there, even if I realize with a sudden pang of bitterness that Saucepan remains irreplaceable to me. I love Bella very much, but it's a different relationship, external, so to speak. Instead, that poor grayish, faded animal was a part of me, a sort of canine alter ego. This thought clouds the serenity of my mood a little, veiling it with a hint of melancholy. Besides, lately, I've been constantly sad, even when I pretend to be cheerful.

I still suffer from Gianni's loss. I suffer doubly because I shouldn't suffer. I'm here with my son and I wish I were in the arms of a man who could be my father: what kind of man am I? What kind of father can I possibly be?

For weeks, for months now, I've been fighting against myself to forget him. He himself helped me a lot, treating me that indecent way. So yes, I suffer, but I bear the pain stoically. Unfortunately, I know full well that it's his daily phone call that helps me endure it: every time my cell phone rings and I see that number, my heart does a somersault. Now I've changed my attitude: I no longer hang up immediately, but listen silently to what he has to say, without answering. Then I hang up. This way he knows I've heard him: I don't want to make him feel humiliated or rejected. I love him, damn it, and I don't want him to suffer any more. But no, I won't go looking for him again: I'll let our wound bleed peacefully, drowning us both in a lake of melancholic torpor. We drown holding hands: it's a way like any other to stay together.

And there it is, my stream, where it widens smoothly and peacefully into a cove next to the grassy bank I so often chose to study, alone or with Antonia, but always in the company of Saucepan. Fortunately, Bella shares Saucepan's tastes and wags her tail happily, while I lower Martino onto the grass and lead him by the hand toward the water. He trots beside me with small, still slightly unsteady steps, holding on to Bella's tail with his other hand. We sit on the bank and I pick him up; I watch the calm flow of the water, blue and transparent, my chin resting on his red curls, and I feel a strange emotion come over me. Suddenly, the baby fidgets nervously, putting a hand on his pants near his genitals. Antonia put him in a diaper before handing him over to me, and I also have two spares in the Pluto-printed bag I carry with me, which is entirely dedicated to Martino's things. However, I have the impression that he's trying to tell me he wants to pee, and not in his diaper. In fact, he whimpers:

- Pee, Daddy.

I'm astonished: not so much by the message he's communicating to me, which reveals a precocious ability to recognize bladder urges and an equally precocious desire to control them, but by the last two syllables. Anyway, I indulge him, help him get up, and carry him to an area sheltered by bushes (an unnecessary precaution, but my son and I are very reserved types), pull down his shorts and diaper, and help him, supporting him, to pee "like a man," as he desires. Finally, he seems very satisfied and smiles as I pull his shorts back up and lead him back to sit on the edge.

- Martino, I tell him, you were really good at asking to pee like the grown-ups, you know?

He nods with conviction.

- But you also said something else… you didn't just say "pee", did you?

He shrugs, as if it were no big deal.

- What did you say, Martino? I insist.

- Pee, he replies.

- Yes, but what did you say after that?

- Pee! he repeats.

- I understood you said "pee," but then you said something else. I didn't hear it clearly. Can you say it again?

- Peeeeeeeeee!, he blurts out exasperatedly, as if he wanted to end the conversation once and for all.

I sigh in resignation. I'm sure I heard correctly, but I won't hear anything from him; he's closed himself off like an oyster. I'll carry this doubt with me for who knows how long.

- Come on, I tell him, let’s go take a walk in the water: it’s shallow and calm here.

Bella, as usual, immediately grasps the meaning of my words and is happy to comply: she dives into the stream and splashes heavily among the smooth white stones of the riverbed, kicking up splashes and attempting to snap up some passing fish, obviously without success. I accompany Martino to the shore of a small natural pool with blue-green water, just over twenty centimeters deep: it seems like the perfect place to take him for a swim.

- Fitsch!, exclaims the child, pointing to some barbel or chub fry.

- Yes, there are little fish, I confirm smiling.

I take off my sneakers and slip his shoes off, placing them on the dry shore. Then I take his hand and walk toward the water, trying to persuade him to walk into the small blue pool, but the boy balks and resists.

- Come on, Martino, come with Uncle Manu.

- Eat!

- Yes, I'll give you your fruit puree later, but first we'll cool our feet. Look at Bella jumping in the water!

Unconvinced and hesitant, the child lets himself be persuaded and begins to take a few steps beside me. I try to get him to place his feet on the larger, smoother rocks. Martino is beginning to enjoy the walk; we walk hand in hand with our feet in the water for a few minutes, when suddenly he lets out a little cry.

- What’s happening?, I ask him, alarmed.

- Ouch, foot!

I pick him up and my heart stops: his little left foot is bleeding profusely, injured by something I don't know what. I try to reassure him, but in reality I'm in a state of confusion and my heart is racing. I peer into the water to see what might have injured Martino's foot, but I see nothing: probably some damned glass, blending in with the blue-green transparency of the water. The child, of course, starts crying; Bella immediately stops her water games and comes to us barking.

- Shut up, Bella! Don't you understand that this way you're scaring him even more?

Bella immediately falls silent and wags her tail dejectedly.

- It's nothing, Martino, now your uncle will bandage your little foot and then we'll go get treated.

I pick up the baby and carry him to the bank. Then I take a clean cotton handkerchief from my pants pocket, which I luckily brought with me, and bandage his foot, trying to close the wound and keep it from bleeding too much. I know full well that to avoid tetanus, it's best to let the blood flow. But enough has already flowed, and I don't have time to waste. I run to the car with the baby in my arms, place him in his car seat, put Bella in the trunk, and rush to the nearest emergency room, which luckily is only a few kilometers away.

Martino, shocked, stopped crying. The whole ride over, I keep calling myself an idiot.

 

Sunday, July 20, 2025

2.4. A pool of honey (Gianni again, finally!)

Four days without even a call from Gianni. I feel like I'm ten feet under, but I have to react. I worked hard today: in the morning I went to see the houses in Albugnano with Bruno, an interesting business in which I decided to invest a little money myself; in the afternoon I helped Mayra at the nursery, where several customers arrived, almost all sent by Mrs. Bozzoli to buy some special rose varieties that I had acquired in the meantime. Word of mouth seems to be working.

Now I'm quite tired and want to rest in the cool: the back room faces north and is very comfortable even in summer. I throw open the two windows, where Mayra has put up some providential mosquito nets, and stretch out on the bed. She joins me almost immediately with a glass of pineapple juice: I thank her and drain it in two gulps.

I must not let melancholy take over.

- Sit here, I say, pointing to the bed. She obeys.

- No massage?, she asks me.

- No, not for now. We're just spending time together.

- Okay. Do you want to talk?

- Yes, if it doesn't bother you.

- But imagine if it bothers me.

- Let's get back to yesterday: I was telling you I want to try giving up sex, and you gave me a slap for it.

- No, you don't have to give up! Are you a loon?

- Mayra, I thought I explained things to you and I thought you understood.

- Oh, I get it! But you can't do it the way you say, you're too young. You just "have" to do it.

- Excuse me, what are you talking about? I mean, do you think I have to have sex just for the sake of it? With the first person I come across?

- No, not with the first one. You have to choose it carefully. We'll think about it now.

It makes me laugh, despite everything.

- Mayra, it's not a matter of choosing or thinking about it: it's something that happens, or it doesn't. And if it doesn't, there's absolutely nothing you can do about it.

- So explain to me, since I couldn't do it alone: what was so special about Antonha that you can't do with the others?

- Everything, absolutely everything.

- This is not an answer: it's like saying that a cat is a cat because it is a cat.

- By the way, how is Gatu Felìpe?

- Great, thanks: I made him a new, lighter headset for the summer. But don't change the subject, answer my question.

- Let me explain. The special thing was that with Antonia I let myself go completely.

- What do you mean you let go?

- May, it's really embarrassing to talk about this. I think… yes, I think I'm beautiful in certain moments. I let the beauty in my soul shine through. But I only let it shine through if I trust someone.

- So you trusted Antonha?

- Yes. I trusted her from the very first moment and continued to do so for a long time, even though she cheated on me and rejected my marriage proposal.

- And you still trusted her.

- Yes, I trusted her.

She bursts into a loud laugh.

- What a little idiot you are, Manu.

- You're right, I'm a real idiot.

- Anyway, I thought it was the woman who let herself go in those moments, not the maskio.

- May, you should know that from the very beginning, she was always the one to take the initiative with me. I mostly let her do her thing.

- So you didn't do anything?

- No, calm down, it's not that I didn't do anything: I did something too. In fact, at a certain point I grew up and started to take the game into my own hands.

- The game into hands, Prins?

- It's a figure of speech, May, I reply impatiently. And I'm sorry, I can't go into details: try to imagine. I know it's not easy for you, but it's not my fault if you don't know anything about these things.

- I bite my tongue.

- Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.

- No, don't be sorry, it's the truth . But I've seen a few sex films too, huh? I think I've figured one thing out: you, more than having sex, like certain things to be done to you.

I blush. Mayra captured in one click that "sexual passivity" that the psychologist had once highlighted as one of my defining personality traits, explaining the whys and wherefores with long, pointless turns of phrase (it was obvious to me even without him telling me). I now discover that there's no need to pay a psychoanalyst when dealing with Mayra.

- In a certain sense, yes I admit.

- Okay, but I can do those tricks too, she says candidly.

I lift my head and stare at her with wide eyes.

- Mayra, you don't know what you're talking about. At least I hope so.

- Why, what would be strange about that?

- Everything! It would all be weird and completely absurd! I can't even imagine you doing those things. Oh God, Mayra, don't make me think you used to do them too... And with whom, anyway?

She, hastily, cuts it short:

- Listen, Manu: I think she gave you massages or something like that, right?

- Eh, more or less.

- Well, I can do massages too.

I lean back against the pillow with a sigh of relief: thankfully this poor woman didn't understand a thing.

- Yes of course, May, you are very good at giving massages.

- So do you see it?

It makes me laugh again.

- But what do I see? Come on, please, let's be serious: these are two completely different things.

- I know it's not exactly the same, huh! I can understand that. But a massage is better than nothing, right?

- It's much better than nothing, May. Much, much better.

- And you don't let go when I massage you?

- Yes, May, I do let myself go. I like it, it relaxes me, and it cheers me up. If you enjoy giving them to me, I enjoy receiving them, and we're all set. There's really no need for you to do… anything else, that's all.

- Neither with me nor with anyone else.

- Then start being content with this. Then we'll see.

- Okay, Mayra: massage me again, I'd really appreciate it.

I lie down, taking off my shirt. She starts massaging me again.

- Don't you take off your trousers, Manu?

- No, it's better not. If Carlos happens to come back...

- All right, I understand. I'll massage your back and stomach.

I close my eyes and relax completely. I remain silent for a while, then I decide to ask her a question that's been on my mind for a while:

- Don't you ever miss sex, Mayra?

She looks at me strangely, as if I'd asked her something profoundly stupid.

- What could I possibly miss, Manu? I have everything.

- In what sense?

- I have a great job, an irmùn like Carlos who loves me so much, a nice house with a cat, a vegetable garden, good chickens who lay eggs every day, a beautiful garden with lots of flowers, a dog like Bela, and even you in my bed! I really think I'm the luckiest woman in the world, Prins.

Suddenly my eyes fill with tears. I fake a sneeze; she hands me a tissue.

- You caught a cold. Here, put this woolen scarf on your shoulders, the massage here is finished.

I wrap the soft wool shawl she holds out to me around my neck. It smells faintly of vanilla or something similar, a sweet, opiate scent.

- Anyway, Manu, she tells me understandingly, if you miss sex so much , it's easy: just go back to bed with Antonha.

I am completely taken aback by this statement.

- No May, I can't anymore now.

- Why? She doesn't want to?

- No, she never turned me down as a lover. The fact is, I've changed. She humiliated me, as a man and as a father. Before, I was just a boy; it might have made sense for her to treat me with superiority, but now...

She interrupts me with unusual severity.

- No, Manu, it didn't make sense before either. If you were a little boy, she should have treated you like a mamàn, not sucked you up and then treated you like a superior and slept with the older men.

I can't help but laugh again: her description is very funny, even if perfectly fitting.

- May, the superior is a sort of leader of the nuns, and believe me, Antonia is nothing like a nun at all.

- Eh, I can imagine.

- Anyway, May, I just couldn't let myself go with her now. I could have sex with her, that's for sure: there's always been a very strong physical attraction between us.

- And what did I tell you? You can have sex with her.

- Mayra, so I didn't explain myself. Having sex without feeling, as I told you before, isn't communication, it's just fucking. I'm not interested, and especially not with her, since I truly loved her. It's pointless, you don't understand.

- Instead, I think I understand, Prins: what you miss is that you can no longer show her the beauty you have inside you.

I look at her in amazement: she has hit the nail on the head.

- Exactly, Mayra. I absolutely don't intend to show her the beauty in me anymore: she's seen it and despised it. So it's over.

- That's right, Manu. But you really miss showing someone that beauty you have inside. That's why you wanted to show it to Janni, who thinks you're so beautiful on the outside.

I nod.

- You need to find someone you trust, Prins.

- Yeah, but there isn't. I was hoping to find it in him, but I'm just stupid. And there's no other.

- Absolutely none?

I'm about to answer "none," but I suddenly stop and look up.

- I mean, actually there would be, but…

- But?

- But I can't.

- And if you can't, never mind.

I remain silent for a few seconds, then I ask her the most idiotic of questions:

- So what do we do?

She shrugs.

- Let's wait for that person, Manu, to arrive, and in the meantime let's do something else.

I relax again and try not to think about anything else. Suddenly my cell phone rings.

- Prinsy, I'll turn it off for you, otherwise you can relax.

I jump up on the bed.

- No, for goodness sake, don't turn it off: give it here.

Mayra, sighing, hands it to me. My heart skips a beat when I see the number.

I resist the temptation to answer and stare transfixed at the screen, listening to the ringing and waiting for the final beep that confirms I have a message on my voicemail. Meanwhile, Mayra has sat down with her hands clasped in her lap and is looking at me with a resigned expression.

- Aren't you listening to it, Prins?

- Yes Mayra, I'm listening to it now.

- Now when?

- Now.

- Oh, I get it, you want me to go.

- No, May, please stay. This message could be the last and it could hurt me deeply: that's why I prefer you by my side.

- All right, Manu. Come on, press the button.

I hesitantly press the button and put the phone on speakerphone, so that Mayra can hear it too.

"Emmanuel," begins an unusually calm and controlled voice, "I don't know what to do anymore. If you don't talk to me and give me a chance to explain, I can't make you understand how things really are. It's not what it seems, believe me. Please answer me. I'd like to meet you to apologize and explain everything. Please, give me that chance. A big kiss, my love."

Click.

We both remain silent. Then Mayra speaks.

- It seems sinseru, Manu.

I nod slowly.

- Yes, I know, May: Gianni knows how to pretend very well. Otherwise I wouldn't have fallen for it like a chicken.

- I don't think he's pretending.

Another silence.

- Maybe you should try talking to him, Prins, because you're feeling too bad and I can't do anything for you.

- That's not true, Mayra, you're very important to me and you always manage to make me feel better.

- Better, yes, but not good. Try talking to him, worst case scenario, you'll shut the door in his face if he offends you again.

I stare at my phone. Then I put it on the nightstand and lie back down on the bed.

- I'll think about it, May. Now, please, finish the massage.

- Agreed.

She starts massaging me again.

- You know, you're much more relaxed now? Your muscles are much softer.

- Yes, I know.

I feel like I'm drowning in a pool of honey, such is the sweetness of that re-established contact.

Gianni came back to look for me.