Читать книгу The Great Ski-Lift - Anton Soliman - Страница 8

He spent a few days practicing alone, always on the same ski run. Every little slope and variation in the pitch was now firmly engraved in his mind. He knew the exact points where extra care was needed to descend without mistakes, at least on the track. Several days had passed pleasantly skiing around the Great Ski-Lift without complications. This seemed important to him. At noon he stopped at a kiosk at the ski-lift base.

He sat so the sun shone on his back because the light was intense enough to blind. He looked towards the village with an empty mind. During the intense days of exercise his mind cleared. He ran through the track in his mind so that it would be smoother each time.

He chose an isolated table, a few feet away a young couple immersed in conversation. The two little kids playing on their own must be theirs. Suddenly he realized the man had noticed him. There were no other tourists around and he felt a twinge of fear. He had not completely forgotten that he was in the Circuit illegally, the feeling of being watched caused a shiver of dread. This strange vacation had started unconventionally and now he needed to normalize it. For example, he could return to the City, his work, and family. Common sense considerations gave way to a rising feeling of emptiness, sure proof that in the reality of things the intertwining of events was more complicated. The man rose from the table and smiled in welcome.

- Excuse me sir, my wife and I feel that no one should be eating alone in a corner in such a remote and out-of-the-way venue.

The man seemed the sociable kind... almost definitely a tourist who had nothing to do with the Great Ski-Lift system.

- Let me introduce myself. My name is Robert Massoni, I'm here with my family for Christmas. We own a chalet behind the village and come here every year.

Oskar introduced himself in turn, responding with a wave to Mrs Massoni's smile.

After breaking the ice, the man, who looked a few years younger than Oskar, invited him to the table where his wife had already prepared a cup of hot coffee and a slice of cake.

- Help yourself, Mr Zerbi! Get stuck in, - said Robert warmly.

Oskar looked at the family's kind faces: they had a gentle appearance. Since arriving on the Sierra mountains, he was finally meeting some pleasant people. This was a very important thing for him.

- Are you on vacation for Christmas? Your first time here, Mr Zerbi? - asked Mrs Massoni amiably.

- Yes, a few days now, just getting to know these places. Besides, I've not been in the mountains for years.

- Are you travelling alone? she asked.

- Yes – Oskar reflected a moment and added – I needed absolute rest.

- I assume your job is very demanding, Mr Zerbi! - said Robert.

- I'm an engineer. But who knows? Maybe when I head home again I'll change job – he said smiling.

- What a coincidence! I'm an engineer too. See how many engineers we meet Bea? - Massoni turned to his wife laughing.

They chatted inconsequentially for a while but it started getting cold, so Oskar suggested: - Robert, why not all go skiing? Anyway, no need to be some formal between colleagues.

After the lonely days on the slopes he relished the warm family glow, he was happy to be talking with his peers.

They climbed into the chairlift. During the ride, he wondered why Robert had noticed him. The green card around his neck for permanent membership was undoubtedly a very rare symbol, distinguishing him from the other occasional skiers.

Being seen with a green card seemed to open doors, and solved the rigmarole of introductions. His current position in fact meant saying as little as possible on his account, and asking his new friends questions instead. Shielded symbolically by the Great Ski-lift pass, he was able to relax and quietly observe the others´ behaviour.

-What is self-representation? - Oskar mused, -maybe a form of consistency to imbue a certain order to a person? - He thought of a dinghy that needed inflating to float, something similar to blood pressure.

He knew the track off by heart and managed to make a good impression. Robert and his wife praised his style, in turn, they skied confidently. Obviously, most people did not hold skiing as important. Oskar was flattered by the compliments and for a moment thought he'd reached a high standard. The next descent saw him even go off-piste on the fresh snow, seeing if he could handle a different slope. In those abnormal conditions, set loose from his imposed automatism he struggled instantly. It was as though starting to ski again, the lack of true knowledge apparent, that flexible ability to adapt to every circumstance. It was about understanding a Rule in all its facets, while he was limited to knowing a single definition.

- What a beautiful day! A pleasure meeting you at the lodge – said Robert on finishing the last ski-track. The sun was already setting, and the staff was about to close the chairlift.

- Why not come for dinner at our house? We can take you back to the hotel afterwards.

- I gladly accept - said Oskar.

Engineer Massoni owned a typical chalet, which had been tastefully refurbished The tiled fireplace was set in the centre of the living room. Oskar remembered seeing such a layout in the Tibetan valleys.

- What a beautiful fireplace, very impressive! - he exclaimed on entering the house.

He sat beside the fire as the family stepped into the kitchen.

Oskar watched the flame dancing over the wood: it changed shape continuously, full of irregularities, and yet perfectly harmonious.

They had left him alone, the house seemed deserted. After all, he was a visitor who'd stopped to rest. The journey started in Valle Chiara, the remote Sierra village, was still continuing without a specific destination He could not remember when this holiday actually started, probably it had been traumatic, a scary event that needed to be buried in his insight to avoid any unnecessary suffering.

The invitation offered by the Massoni family was based on a fleeting, superficial encounter. Mainly by virtue of the great Ski-Lift multi-year pass, a seemingly important badge of honour. Moreover, Oskar felt it unlikely that the setting, an interesting turn of phrase or a change in his persona would make him interesting enough for the Massoni family.

After dinner, on saying he felt ready for bed, Bea invited him to stay in the chalet as a guest as long as he wanted, without any problems. Several rooms were free, and he accepted gladly, longing for the company. The family went to their rooms.

Oskar was left alone in the living room. He stared at the burning fireplace. The house had drawn in around itself. Something had snapped and the chalet no longer looked authentic at all.

He thought obsessively about potential difficulties to face in the Great Ski Lift. Lifting himself from the armchair he decided to head back into town the following morning.

There was a door ajar in the corridor leading to his guest room. The dim light illuminated an empty room he felt inexplicably drawn to. A veil of moonlight filtered from the windows and helped his eyes gradually start to distinguish distinct objects. The furniture was mahogany, a detail that intrigued him the most. He seemed to have entered the cabin of an old transatlantic line.

There were books and a handwritten note on the desk, as if a work was in progress. He opened the wardrobe to reveal neatly hung women's clothes. The occupant was undoubtedly a woman. On the bedside table was a photo of a smiling little girl sitting on a swing.

Oskar had the impression to have known that person as an adult, just a few years earlier. Maybe the images overlapped due to an actual prototype in mind.... Another Archetype from the world of feelings?

The external light glinted off the brass handles.

Waking up in the guest room the next day, he recalled the mahogany furniture spotted the night before. He remembered the photographs too, reinforcing the sense he knew the room's guest in the cabin that resembled an old transatlantic. He dressed and opened the door silently, rifling through the drawers for a clue to the woman's identity. He found more photos, one of them showed a familiar face, Oskar Zerbi!

That's what he wanted to know, he could feel something. Years ago, he and Sara must have travelled together. If that was the woman's name. He suddenly remembered everything. Sara was the woman he met in Austria. A funny romance had happened. He couldn't remember the reason it ended, but that aspect of the story didn't feel important.

An incredible coincidence... Not a case of chance. The Great Ski-Lift was making increasingly clearer the contours of a confused world. The only logical alibi was along the subtle Present line.