Читать книгу Gunpowder, money and a glass of red - - Страница 5

The owner of the bar, Murillo, helped with the search for a doctor who has nothing against treatment without insurance and is able to maintain absolute secrecy. He properly treated and stitched up the wounds. For a month, he came every day to give an injection. These were antibiotics. For the first week, Jorge had to regularly swallow painkillers.

Massimo said goodbye to Aunt Barbara. In addition to him, Pablo, Murillo and lawyer Kurt Miller arrived at the cemetery. Jorge’s father, Sergio Gomez, arrived a little late. He expressed his deepest condolences and informed Massimo that he could turn to his family for help at any time.

Without any questions or discussions, Pablo voluntarily spent most of his savings on paying for the services of a funeral agency even before Massimo began to bother about the funeral. Among other things, he ordered a tombstone with a beautiful epitaph.

The loss turned out to be much greater than others might have thought. Massimo did not leave the apartment for more than three weeks, and when he left it, the reason was the desire to visit his aunt’s grave. Then another couple of weeks in blank walls and absolute silence. In Massimo’s mind, the family consisted of two people. He didn’t remember his parents well, but Aunt Barbara replaced them and became that same family for him. Now she is gone, and with her the whole family is gone. Massimo had barely turned eighteen when the very next day he was left alone. Discouraging feelings did not let go of him for a long time. He didn’t think for a second about the man who robbed Sergio Gomez, who also wounded Jorge. That incident was the first murder for Massimo. His hands were now covered in blood, but this did not bother his conscience at all. The mind was in the grip of completely different thoughts.

Three months have passed since Aunt Barbara passed away. Massimo rarely left the apartment, and even less often – from the house. If he left the house, then his walk was limited to a minute’s walk to the nearest supermarket, where each of his purchases was, to put it mildly, modest. Massimo’s appetite completely disappeared. Most of what he ate was brought by Pablo when he came to visit. In view of this, even going to the store was a rarity for Massimo.

Now that Jorge, who had recovered from his injury, came to visit with Pablo, Massimo cheered up a little. He was pleased to see Jorge who did not frown in pain and was devoid of defects in his gait.

It didn’t take them long to persuade him. A shift occurred in Massimo’s head. He himself wanted to go out and take a walk around the area. The appearance of a healthy Jorge in front of him seemed to start blood flowing through his veins.

The first thing they did was visit the cinema. There, in one of the halls, the second part of «Dirty Harry», filmed three years earlier, was shown. But this film has no statute of limitations. You can watch it ten years later and do it for the hundredth time. Clint Eastwood was cooler than ever. Cool, fearless, vigilant; It will get anyone out of the ground. The guys were sitting in the last row. While watching, in passing, Jorge said that it would be nice to take an example from this guy. If you do everything like Dirty Harry, you will conquer any peak. And Jorge also hinted that they should also acquire the same deadly tool. The.44 caliber Magnum shot no less powerfully than it looked from the outside.

The next point after the film show was the nearest cafe. Massimo greedily swallowed two plates of chicken cutlets with deep-fried potatoes, three glasses of Coca-Cola and two hundred grams of chocolate ice cream. Pablo and Jorge were not surprised by such an appetite.

After a hearty lunch, the whole trio boarded the train, which headed towards the coast. Less than an hour later, Massimo, Pablo and Jorge were sitting on a bench on the embankment. The weather was sunny and clear. A light breeze was blowing. The view was enchanting. Calm ocean waves covered the wet sand, palm leaves swayed faintly in the wind, and crowds of sunbathers filled the beach. Some fried their bodies under the rays of the sun, others kicked a ball in a noisy company. The main part floundered in the ocean. Sun loungers, towels, straw hats and drinks with plastic straws were everywhere. Behind the benches, on one of which the boys were sitting, runners in sunglasses often rushed by. Pablo’s attention was caught by a girl of about twenty-five running by.

– Look, look – Pablo noticed in a hurry. – What luxurious standards…

He spent a long time devouring the runner with his eyes, examining her bare parts of the body, which were hidden under a thin layer of sweat, covered with the attractive glare of the daytime sun, until the girl disappeared from sight.

Pablo turned around and continued:

– I heard a couple of months ago that a new island was being developed a few kilometers from here.

– And what? – asked Massimo.

– And the fact that nudists began to develop it.

– Are there nudists in these places? – Jorge was surprised.

– That’s what I’m talking about.

Pablo began to develop his thought in an unexpected direction:

– Briefly speaking. One man owns a small yacht and takes tourists around the open waters. So, he found a new part-time job. Every Thursday and Sunday, he takes clients to this island who were looking for a free beach to sunbathe in the nude. After some time, he himself began to sunbathe in what his mother gave birth to, so that, so to speak, he would join the rest of the world. And the boat remains unattended. He simply drops anchor and leaves with everyone else. I saw this yacht. It has high sides, so it won’t swim close to the shore. And now the most interesting thing that I learned is that these perverts leave all their clothes and valuables on the yacht before leaving. It’s like they’ve been doing this for a long time, they know each other, they’re all one friendly bunch and they trust each other. I would ignore this story, but a whole crowd leaves their belongings unattended. They collapse on the sand and do not move until sunset.

– Continue – said Jorge, intrigued.

– There is a boat station nearby. I still have enough left from my savings. We can rent one high-speed motor boat, I’ll find out where this island is, and we’ll drive there. The island is empty. Until recently it was uninhabited.

Massimo suddenly intervened:

– We’ll need oars. The last two hundred to three hundred meters the roar of the engine can be heard.

– Listen, Massimo – said Pablo. – Actually, I wanted you to, well, stay on the backup, with a good view on the second boat somewhere to the side. In case one of the nudists moves, you would give a signal. I do not want to risk. You’re on probation…

Massimo interrupted him sharply:

– I don’t care. Look at him – pointing to Jorge, who sat between them. He was lucky last time. He might not be sitting here right now. It’s too risky for two. Where is the guarantee that while we rob, no one will get on the board and that none of them will have a gun or a knife, as then? If suddenly someone among us gets wounded, at least it will be easier for two of us to drag the wounded. And then, I’m already tired of sitting around doing nothing. I won’t go and bend my back for pennies. And so I spent my whole life in poverty. Enough.

Pablo and Jorge thought for a long time, could not decide for a long time, but in the end they decided not to resist the will of their friend.

– Do you have any clothes with a hood, a cap or something like that? – Pablo asked Massimo.

– No.

– Basically, it’s no problem. I’ll grab mine.

They shook hands.

Four days have passed. At noon it was already hot July weather – the most suitable for nudists to go to a closed party.

Massimo and Jorge were standing near the parking lot in front of a cafe. On Jorge’s shoulder hung a backpack with equipment for the case, which he checked several times. There was a pier about fifty meters away. After an hour of waiting, they noticed Pablo approaching in a motor boat. They walked along the pier and at the very end went down to the boat. Inside, as planned, were two oars that Pablo had rented from one of the fishermen at the boat station. He put the engine at low speed and taxied away from the shore, around the breakwater. Jorge unzipped his backpack and then pulled out a gray cap and sunglasses for Massimo. Jorge shook out the remaining contents at his feet, grabbing the bottom of the backpack. The contents included three pocket knives, five rolls of vapor barrier tape, two plastic bags, binoculars, several towels, some clothing and three spent pistols with loaded magazines: one.25-caliber and two.45-caliber.

The boat continued to sail very slowly until all three of them had finished covering the inscriptions on the sides with tape, so that if something happened, no one would be able to identify this boat. Pablo stepped on the gas. Half an hour later a dot appeared on the horizon. After another five minutes, the figure of an island with trees began to emerge.

Soon Pablo slowed down. At Massimo’s request, he turned off the engine. Then the two of them began rowing with oars, gradually going around the island. Fifteen minutes later the opposite shore appeared. Jorge took his binoculars and began to scan the shore. About a hundred meters from the shore, he saw a passenger yacht with the inscription «Peterson» on its side. Jorge’s face contorted. His lower jaw dropped back as he turned the binoculars slightly to the side.

– Well, what’s there? – asked Massimo.

– O-O-O-O-O… Wow.

– What do you see? – Pablo repeated irritably.

Jorge responded in a shocked tone:

– I have never seen so many asses before. – A couple of seconds of delay. – But there’s plenty of nasty stuff too. Crap. There are a lot of old bastards here too. Damn!

– Is there something wrong? – asked Massimo.

Jorge responded in a reserved manner, sharply lowering the binoculars:

– There are as many naked female breasts as there are phalluses. I won’t be able to sleep after this.

Several dozen lovers of exotic tanning appeared before his distant eyes.

– Give it to me – said Massimo, snatching the binoculars.

He examined the beach, simultaneously describing the picture:

– There is a small pier there. It is located just on the edge of the beach. The yacht is standing there, on the side closest to the beach. We can sail up from the other side and moor at the opposite end of the pier. The dimensions of the yacht will easily cover our boat. Nobody will notice us.

– Is there anyone on deck? – asked Pablo.

– I don’t see anyone. If anything happens, we do as planned.

After a short pause, Massimo threw the binoculars into Jorge’s hands and said:

– Let’s row.

The two of them took up the oars. Their boat sailed along the shore so that the view of the vacationers was blocked by the massive yacht.

In about ten minutes the boat had already sailed close to the pier. Jorge remained on guard. Massimo and Pablo each took one pistol, a plastic bag and a knife. Using the oar, Jorge moved the boat a little closer to the edge of the pier so that Massimo and Pablo could climb to the surface without sinking into the water.

– Hey, hey – Pablo whispered indignantly, turning to Massimo. – Where is the cap? Cover your face. Forgot about your criminal record?

– Don’t be hysterical – Massimo retorted, continuing to move forward.

Crouching down, they began to climb the ladder. It was quiet on deck. Pablo rushed through the passengers’ belongings, and Massimo crept into the captain’s covered cabin. There he found a safe. But only a lazy person could call it a reliable storage facility. The safe was made of aluminum, and the lock was one of the cheapest. In such a lock, the tongue simply rotated in a circle when the key was turned. There was no spring or horizontal bolt made of solid steel. Massimo inserted the blade of a knife between the door and the frame, and began to hit the lock tongue through the crack with the edge of the blade. On the second attempt, the mechanism bent under pressure. Inside were documents for the ship, a notebook and some photographs. These are all things that were of no value. And among the more significant objects, Massimo discovered a gilded cigarette case, the contents of which he poured onto the deck; a box with some rare coins and other things from the bottom of the ocean, and a stack of bills from the day’s earnings. Taking with him money, coins and the cigarette case, Massimo went to help Pablo.

Pablo worked promptly. By that time, he had already dug up six gold chains, eight gold and five silver rings, four of which had precious stones; He also took out seven wristwatches, three pendants, an ivory smoking pipe with a carved design, a miniature lady’s mirror in the shape of a heart, eight wallets and about a thousand dollars, which lay in pockets without wallets. With the appearance of Massimo, the volume of loot increased significantly. To this were added eleven purses, fifteen hundred dollars from pockets, ten gold chains, ten rings, four pendants, nine wristwatches, a pearl necklace, an aquamarine bracelet, three pairs of earrings, a rosary, a fountain pen and the latest issue of Playboy.

Inspecting the volume of loot, Pablo suddenly thought:

How many perverts come here to bask their genitals in the sun!?

They hurriedly threw everything into a plastic bag indiscriminately, and when they had collected everything, they began to tie the bag at the lowest point above the contents. After the knot was tied, the bag was turned inside out, as if placing the contents in the second layer of the bag. Having finished with the first plastic bag, they placed it in a second identical one, trying to leave as much air inside as possible.

While Massimo was hastily tightening the second knot, a woman’s voice was heard from behind:

– Pablo?

Seized by a sudden rush of fear, they looked around. Behind them stood a naked blonde girl of about eighteen. Her feet were hidden under a layer of wet sand. She stood motionless, her eyes bulging. When her pupils awkwardly stumbled upon the pistol lying near the robbers, her body seemed to surrender to the embrace of total paralysis. The rustle of the plastic bag stopped. Deathly silence fell on the deck. The girl’s chin trembled and her knees began to shake. After a few agonizing seconds, she barely moved her right foot back a few centimeters, starting to back away.

Pablo’s hands left the bag and reflexively reached for the gun. At these moments the girl turned sharply in the direction of the ladder. The barrel of the pistol was already looking after her, but the trigger refused to budge, allowing the girl to take an extra few steps. Pablo removed the safety with his thumb. The bolt got rid of the obstacle in its path and the weapon ceased to be safe.

The girl began to run towards the ramp, leaving behind traces of crumbling sand. Soon the lead pierced the skin on her back. The wild cold emanating from the forty-five caliber filled the blood.

BANG!!! BANG!!!

Two crimson holes on the golden tan.

Her body collapsed onto her stomach.

After two deafening bangs, Massimo shrugged his shoulders in fear and ducked away from the two flashes. Pablo ran up to the girl’s immobilized body. His cool gaze went through the sight on the bolt to the back of the victim’s head. Another shot. There was a ringing noise of a falling cartridge case.

Screams began to be heard from the beach.

Massimo picked up the pistol and the bag with the last unfinished knot, which was no longer urgently needed.

Somewhere overboard the roar of the running engine was heard. Jorge looked for friends on the edge of the deck. A second later Massimo appeared. He dropped the bag of loot, which splashed into the water, swaying on its surface. Jorge swam closer and threw the bag into the boat.

– Let’s jump! – Massimo said in a restrained half-cry.

He and Pablo ran to the edge of the deck and walked a few meters beyond where the boat was. Holding tightly to the handles of their pistols, they jumped off.

The screams of the yacht’s passengers grew louder. Separate words were heard. It seems that these were male voices. Someone plucked up the courage to run up to the ship with his head down.

Jorge swam to the place where Massimo and Pablo dived. They surfaced a few meters from the boat, inhaling deeply through their jaws open wide. Jorge turned on the weak speed, swimming as close as possible. Massimo swam a couple of meters, threw the pistol into the boat, and then stretched out his arms and grabbed the edge of the side. He pushed with all his might and fell over the side. Meanwhile Pablo held tightly with both hands to the oar that Jorge handed him. As soon as Pablo plunged his body into the boat, Jorge pressed the lever all the way, the engine roared and the boat rushed at full speed away from the shore.

When the pulse returned to normal, Massimo rushed to ask Pablo how the girl knew his name. Everything was very banal. The murdered girl turned out to be the one who told Pablo about these weekly secret cruises to the beach. She slept with him for two long months. In bed she became very accommodating. And even too much. She gave him everything. She told about all the details, down to the little things that concerned the place where things are left, who is in this club, who is how old, the time of arrival and departure.

– What were you waiting for!? – Massimo shouted, turning to Jorge. – Why did you let her on the yacht!?

– At first I ducked down so that she wouldn’t notice me, and when she climbed the ladder, I had to row to the pier because the boat drifted a little. I needed time and… Sorry guys.

Massimo immediately waved his hand, urging Jorge to stop making excuses.

Along the way, they took off their wet clothes, took out towels, dried themselves and put on dry clothes. They tore the bags and poured the loot into the backpack, and then threw in pistols, tape, knives and everything else. Meanwhile Jorge was peeling off the vapor barrier tape from the sides, leaving it lying inside.

The boat stopped off the coast a couple of kilometers from the boat station. Massimo and Jorge rolled up their jeans to their knees, picked up their shoes, the backpack, torn bags with pieces of tape wrapped around them and went out into the vacant lot.

Pablo started the engine and rushed to return the boat to the boat station.

Massimo and Jorge dried their feet and then put on their shoes. They carefully collected the used tape into one lump, which they wrapped in torn bags. Massimo threw his backpack over his shoulders, Jorge took the crumpled bags, and both slowly walked towards the railway tracks.

Less than an hour later they met Pablo at the train station. Jorge threw the plastic with tape inside into trash cans half a block from the station. They waited for the nearest train and returned to Little Rome on it.

Over the weekend, Jorge borrowed his father’s car. On it they went to the other end of the city. There they found one of the pawn shops and pawned half of the jewelry. The second part was pawned at another pawnshop located in a neighboring city. Everything else – the watches, necklace, smoking pipe and other goods – went into the hands of traders who made deals on the black market.

The total profit from the case was over fifty thousand dollars.

Massimo bought a new TV, refrigerator and tape recorder, refreshed the furniture and made minor cosmetic repairs. He hired workers who replaced the parquet and tiles in the bathroom, updated the plumbing, painted the walls and installed new interior and exterior doors. Now the apartment looked quite respectable.

Jorge stopped asking his father for a car because he now had his own silver 1967 Ford. Now he moved on wheels every day, and not just on weekends.

And Pablo… nothing was heard from Pablo for about a week. After his sudden appearance to the people, he explained his absence by a prolonged stay in the apartment of some Italian woman who lives a couple of blocks away.

After two months, everyone still had a considerable amount left so as not to worry about anything. But Massimo was worried. He couldn’t bear to sit still. When they were just developing the robbery plan, his mind was already cleared of oppressive thoughts. This attracted him. A little time has passed since the robbery on the yacht and passions have subsided. The blues began to return. He needed to do something else. Any adventure could bring him out of this state. Some kind of outing in search of robbery is the best and only acceptable therapy for Massimo.

It was late evening. Massimo was walking down the street. Thoughts about Aunt Barbara couldn’t leave his head. He urgently needed to chat with someone. He went into «A glass of red». As he approached the bar counter, he was greeted by the owner.

– Who came to us? – Murillo said enthusiastically. A black shirt fit him well and, as usual, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. A pair of buttons undone at the end revealed a thick gold chain on which hung a cross with the image of the crucified Jesus Christ. – I haven’t seen you for a long time. How are you doing?

Massimo sat down on a chair in front of the bar, waved his hand languidly and said:

– So-so. The other day it seemed to feel a little better. And now my soul feels bad again.

– You know, it’s normal. You don’t have to think that this has a bad effect on you or that it shouldn’t be this way. This happens to many people. I know she was the only close person. But believe me, there are a great many people like you all over the world. So just be patient. Time will heal everything.

After a few seconds, Murillo placed a glass of water in front of him.

– Here. Have a drink.

Massimo wrapped his fingers around the glass, but things went no further. He looked at the bottom of the glass through the water, imagining how he landed on the same bottom of life.

– Crap. How bad I feel – Massimo muttered under his breath in a bitterly trembling voice.

Murillo placed his wide hand on Massimo’s shoulder and said carefully:

– Don’t worry. Believe me. It will let go after a while.

– It depends how long it takes. I’ll be gray before sclerosis comes to my aid.

– My niece works in a hairdresser. Do you want me to make an agreement? She’ll quickly turn you into an old man. You’ll be old as mold. You won’t have to wait for gray hair.

Murillo’s efforts at this moment were in vain. Massimo did not react to such a joke. Then Murillo added:

– Well, or I can ask someone to get on your nerves. They say that nerves can make you grow old quickly.

Massimo’s face remained stony. Only the eyes moved a few times.

Murillo surrendered. He lowered his eyes and returned to wiping the glasses.

Massimo continued to sit at the counter, surrounded by dozens of customers. His right palm lay on his forehead, and after a while it began to shake. From under his hand, through his open lips, it was noticeable how he clenched his teeth.

– Hey? Massimo? – Murillo said cautiously. He carefully removed his hand from his face. A tear slowly fell down Massimo’s left cheek.

Murillo raised his voice slightly:

– Listen, dude! Maybe stop playing out the drama. Yes, we are not all soulless machines. We are all humans. Everyone suffers, experiences pain, loses loved ones. But are you a man after all or what!?

From such words Massimo covered his face with both hands. His shoulders shook even more.

Confused, Murillo again placed his hand on his shoulder.

– Sorry. This is not what I wanted…

The Cuban stopped his speech, not understanding how to continue it.

– Just be patient. You will see. Everything will be alright.

Massimo took his hands away from his face and said without hesitation:

– Maybe you could pour me something? I think rum or cognac will definitely do the trick.

– Oh-oh-oh-oh… – said Murillo, removing his wide, hairy hands from the bar counter. – And you need to be careful with this.

– And what is wrong?

– You are still too young. At your age, drinking in this state is dangerous. You will feel better. But as soon as you sober up a little, your hand will reach for the drink again. You’re too upset. This way you won’t feel the limits, but you need to know the limit. So slow down.

– Murillo… – Massimo’s voice was still trembling -… please. I feel so sick. I can’t get over this.

Murillo looked at the boy puzzled. He didn’t want the boy to drink out of grief. But it was painful for him to look at the young man like that. The Cuban closed his eyelids, as if he was trying his best to restrain himself from doing something bad. When his eyes opened, he directed his gaze under the bar counter and looked somewhere for a long time. His long gaze was soon interrupted, he lowered his hand under the counter and took out a half-empty, barely transparent bottle.

– Is there anything stronger? I’ll pay – Massimo said languidly.

Murillo’s voice sounded firm and insistent:

– No. For your case, this is the most harmless thing. It is not so strong that it hits the brain, but it is quite capable of overcoming depression.

Murillo placed a clean, polished glass in front of Massimo. There was the sound of a cork coming away from the neck. The bartender tilted the bottle, almost resting the neck against the rim of the stemmed glass. The walls of the glass were enveloped by a crimson stream of wine. The pressure of red gracefully raised the boundaries of the contents, bringing them closer to the edges of the glass. When the glass was almost full, Murillo plugged the neck and returned the bottle to its original place.

Massimo’s fingers eagerly clasped the top of the glass and brought it to his lips. Without stopping, he poured the contents into himself. The glass was emptied in one continuous gulp. The stem of the glass came into contact with the bar counter. The remains of wine flowed down the walls, forming a cluster of several crimson drops at the bottom. Only now, when Massimo removed the glass from his lips, did the receptors on his tongue assess the quality of the liquid that slipped past. It tasted like real wine… and something else. This is not an ordinary wine. Murillo said nothing about this, and Massimo was not interested enough in this question to ask. It seemed to him that most likely this was wine, diluted with some other drink, but in a small volume in order to preserve its original taste. That’s why there is a strange aftertaste.

Murillo picked up the glass and said:

– Don’t leave. I’ll be right back.

The bartender retreated to the back room. During his absence, Massimo more than once wanted to drink more, but this desire somehow suspiciously became weaker. With every second, the craving for drink faded. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to drink at all, but he stopped seeing alcohol as a way to get bad thoughts out of his head. If he wanted to take a sip or two, then this desire was no stronger than on any day, regardless of his mood.

Murillo has returned.

Massimo asked a question:

– Where is your cook? I can’t hear him for some reason.

Murillo answered, keeping his gaze on the boy’s face for a long time, as if he was trying to make out something:

– His father fell ill, and he went homeland to see him.

– So your kitchen is not working now?

– Not really. The kitchen is working. Before he left, he found a person to replace him for a while.

– Really? And how does he cook?

– At least the food hasn’t lost its taste.

Taking a deep breath, Massimo said in a calm voice:

– Well, that’s already great.

Murillo was satisfied with this form of answer, but his face remained carefree.

– And I see you have a new waitress.

Murillo made a small correction:

– More precisely the second one. Karla asked to be released early. There are too many clients. It’s hard for one.

Massimo fell silent for a while. It was clear from his furrowed eyebrows that he was thinking deeply about something. Soon his thoughts were interrupted by his own voice:

– Listen, I’ve been wanting to ask for a long time, but I keep forgetting. Do you have any relatives left in Cuba?

Murillo shook his head.

– In 1955, my brother and I buried our father, and two years before that, our mother. We had no one else in Havana. We immigrated here and settled in this area. Already here my brother got married in the first year. Immediately nine months later my niece was born. A year later – the second niece. That, in fact, is all the relatives I have. True, there is another one. As a child, he helped me in the bar, and in return I would pour him lemonade or treat him to a hot dog.

With a grin, Massimo added:

– Or pour him some wine.

They both smiled casually.

Murillo continued to carry on the conversation while serving customers at the bar. The conversation lasted for almost an hour, after which Massimo decided to leave. When asked how much he owed for the wine, Murillo politely asked him to go to hell for an answer. In response, Massimo thanked the Cuban again and went home.

Climbing the stairs, Massimo passed his floor and went to the roof. There he crouched on the edge of the ledge. His legs hung in the air, and his eyes rushed to examine the expanses of Little Rome under the cover of darkness. Somewhere, behind the residential high-rise buildings, it was possible to see some objects outside of Little Rome. For example, a high-rise television tower, the last few floors of the Eden Hotel, the luminous multi-colored peaks of a suspension bridge. From the east, the lights of planes taking off and landing at the city airport were often visible. On the western side, in the distance, the rays of spotlights sparkled at the stadium, where the world stars of «Disco» were giving a concert. Spending time here, Massimo imagined how somewhere outside of Little Rome life was in full swing and crowds of people were rushing from place to place. His hypnotic gaze seemed to be examining an alien planet, on which everything was arranged completely differently. Everyone is in a hurry to get somewhere. Everyone has something to hurry about. Busy everyday life of the middle class, into which the residents of Little Rome do not fit in. Yes. It was an alien planet, and it was so far away.

Massimo was mesmerized by the views from the roof. He leaned his hand on the edge of the cornice. Suddenly he experienced a strange sensation. Something crunched under his hand. He lifted the hand from the reinforced concrete covering and examined the strange object that came under his hand. They were shards of broken glass, most likely from a soda or beer bottle. Massimo noticed that his palm was bleeding. He examined the cuts in several places. And yet the feeling was very strange. He felt his own fluid spreading over his skin, but he didn’t feel much pain. It was more like a slight tingling sensation, as if a splinter had entered in five or six places.

Murillo? – thought Massimo.

He guessed that it had something to do with the glass of wine that Murillo poured him at the bar.

Out of curiosity, Massimo decided to apply pressure to the wounds to increase the pain. But there was no increase in pain. Massimo’s body seemed not to pay attention to the open wound and refused to use its protective reflexes to the maximum.

For a while he was distracted and continued to examine the lights of the night city. He thought it would be nice to have something cold or a cup of coffee on hand now, even if it was hot. He wanted to sit on the roof in an atmosphere that was at least a little reminiscent of how it is shown in the movies. His mind suddenly began to give birth to vivid pictures. He imagined how excited he would be to get behind the wheel of a beige Cadillac convertible and drive along the boardwalk, watching the crashing waves of the ocean and the clear moonrise. And he also imagined in all colors how he was sitting in a restaurant at a table that he had booked in advance. He saw how a waiter offered him a menu for review, and a head waiter came up and asked if everything suited him or if he might want something else.

Is this real?

All this happens to someone in these very minutes and in the same city, while he is sitting and humbly watching everything that is happening from the side. So YES! This is SO FUCKING real! To do this, he just needs…

Massimo went home. He took out a bottle of alcohol and a piece of cotton wool from the kitchen set. After the wound was disinfected, Massimo wrapped his hand in a bandage. In the end, he suffered for a long time, trying to tie it into a bow, but he didn’t have enough patience and he made a careless tight knot.

A loud, annoying sound filled the room. The phone rang. Pablo turned on the lamp on the bedside table and looked at the clock. The hands showed twenty minutes to midnight. He picked up the phone and the ringing that was beating through his brain stopped. A man’s voice was heard at the other end of the line:

– Hello. This is Massimo.

A second later, Pablo’s still-unawakened brain gave birth to an incomprehensible answer:

– Ah… hi.

– Did I wake you?

Pablo’s half-open eyes once again met the hands on the clock.

– Nothing. I’m all yours.

– Listen, I have a conversation with you.

– Yes, yes. Speak. I’m listening to.

Silence lingered on the phone, replaced only by the dull crackling of the communication line. After a few seconds, Massimo continued:

– Can we talk at your place?

– Now?

– Yes. Jorge left the car at my house. I have the keys too. He said he was leaving somewhere with his parents. There won’t be any until the end of the month. So I can come to you right now.

Without hesitation, Pablo replied:

– Sure.

– Great. I’ll be there in five minutes.

Massimo hung up and left the payphone booth that stood across the street from the house. He didn’t even think about calling from home. For some reason he is always drawn to the street. Even such a small thing as calling a friend forces him to choose a street phone, just to have a reason to leave the house.

He got behind the wheel and, as if by clockwork, stood at the door of Pablo’s rented apartment five minutes later. They settled down in the kitchen. In view of how animatedly Massimo started the conversation, as well as what was the subject of discussion, Pablo decided that sleep could wait and made them a cup of coffee.