David - It was the war *
"Judith? Quickly, please. "
Eyes open wide in a curve of black mascara, shooting back that it straightens.
"Mh?"
Seno. Shot to shot in the neck of her blouse.
"Oh yes, of course ... Yes .. Advocate Good morning ... "
" I said quickly . "
" Quickly, yes ... "
It does not even know, David, what's going on behind him.
has already crossed the antechamber of the study, is already penetrating the corridor. The fingers are already closed on the buttons of his jacket while on the desk of Judith excited to come rustling paper and fabric, the slamming of drawers broken. The breath of one who has just stumbled strangled somewhere, and it was probably just a twisted ankle.
and so every day. Every time I enter into that office for years.
It would indeed be wondering, what on earth do his colleagues while he was absent. If Judith spend your time raving a night of passion with the actor of her favorite soap, or if they indulge in Morfeo Herrera dreaming all nature documentaries in his collection. David
in a hurry, though - always in a hurry, when it comes to the study. And if you miss it
generally have the time to get certain questions - that there is an urgent need for coffee in the morning, and not until Judith took stock of the situation can be served cordially forget that his longed-ration of caffeine - but today it is the will, fail.
has other thoughts on my mind well - the process in the first place, and the Jaguars out of order. Megan's words, that failure to pursue hate to mind in every moment of the day. That repeat in a continuous cycle, crystallized into a kind of curse the dark.
But above all - above all - are the events the other night that has deeply shaken the balance.
"Alloradunque, phoned Carter ..." Judith panting, limping back with his notes flying.
"Only the important things, be kind."
"Mh, yes. Weldon, then. Apparently not yet been able to contact you ... "
" I said what's important, dammit! "He exclaimed, opening the door of the room. "I speak Arabic, maybe?"
"Your daughter?" then she ventured, and he spun around. He raises his eyebrows - his jacket still stuck to the sleeves.
"My daughter what?"
"He called," comes the reply, surreal, before Judith correct quickly. "I mean, the babysitter for his daughter ... He called an hour ago ... "David feels
whiten.
"To warn that the bank seems to have even credited the bank, this month ..." the other end, before he jerks off his jacket and throw it badly on the couch. Before cigarette lighter and banging on the desk - a sudden and angry gesture.
Impatient.
"Fuck the bank, "he says, while she trembles, dropped his pile of scribbled sheets. As he bends to pick them up quickly - the neckline dangerously poised on the brink of a tiny button.
turned his back, David let go a laugh incredulously.
"Shit, you loony!" Hisses. "Tomorrow you open the fucking trial of the century and she comes to talk of trade union demands for a stupid babysitter! I am talking about Carter, and the paranoia of Weldon, and forces me to waste my precious time worrying about what will take the button of his shirt to raise the white flag, you realize? "Immediately
Judith blush, straightening his back shooting.
"Oh, hell!" Cut him short, and around the desk to drop the chair.
Turns cigarette - sudden movements. Smoke invades the lungs, bitter.
"Bring me the damn coffee, rather," he says, waving his hand with a movement annoyed.
It had never happened that a process innervosisse him so much - and there is strong external pressure is to be expected that deepens more, from now on, but this is not the real problem: David is accustomed to managing expectations and responsibilities, is perfectly able to keep control the press and has never had any particular difficulties nell'affrancarsi by cumbersome interference of her father.
This time it seems to be your personal balance, however, which is struggling to stabilize.
Why put that to talk about his grandmother's chickens to what was supposed to be his prey is not normal and not normal to have come to seek the opinion of a kid on issues that should not be questioned .
is not normal that showed weakness with Keith - that need to undress each mask suicidal and foolish hope that he could understand. Offer a feasible direction, an alternative. The
anger in the mouth the bitter taste of defeat worse, if only the mind is allowed to retrace the steps of that history: any teenager in the dressing room of the pool and the normal predatory instincts that leaves room for the illogical decision to save himself. Let it go, for no apparent reason.
Vivian, then, with its cryptic confessions: I imagined it was Keith, I know who you're talking about, I know of view. Already say that from that moment he had not realized their friendship would not be very honest, as it would be a lie to say that he had deliberately chosen to ignore the issue. Pretend that nothing, even in that circumstance. And then the absurd
inconclusiveness interactions - an eighteen year old obviously confused that seems to ask in every way, to put it to close. To break down the defense and the responsibility to raise uncomfortable choices, and that's all seduce him.
would have been too easy for him. But no.
Why was the desire to play, to test him. Test your reactions and dig deeper, to challenge him. Know.
have realized since then that a goal can not rely so much trouble, even if the kid is obviously in his first idea to get your hands on something that nobody has ever touched a stimulus is essential. Precisely for that. It took only a
just bit of strategy to bring already in bed that first night. And would it have been sufficient even less later, when he was approached: there is something wrong if, instead of a boy fuck you you put on the heels of his own volition you agree to talk as you would with your daughter . If you ask him courage and confidence when you know that you can not expect courage and confidence, because his problem is you. Because what I think you imagined, and yet you did so come to tell you in the face. Looking in your eyes.
And you know that there's more. That was not only Vivian - who almost never get to know you were worried il nome del corpo che prendevi né ti ha mai attraversato uno scrupolo di coscienza per chi nel frattempo lasciavi a casa, per chi hai sposato. Per chi hai creduto di amare, o per chi hai amato davvero.
Ha fatto male, e questo brucia.
Come brucia la rabbia di averlo sempre in testa, quel ragazzino: il contrasto schizofrenico fra l’impulso di fargli male e quello di proteggerlo, fra la stima per un avversario tanto pericoloso e la voglia di vincere. Fargli pagare quei suoi ideali limpidissimi e quella sua strada perfettamente tracciata - la superbia odiosa di tenersi lontano da chi le mani sporche le ha sempre avute.
Non sono il tipo.
Vorrebbe ripetergliela all’orecchio mentre lo sbatte con violenza, that phrase put in front of what surely will be his perfect little family with middle-class and sex snatch the hours of study, undermine his life to the point that whatever direction seems feasible. Any error.
"Your coffee, sir."
him fall in love, perhaps.
With a wave of his hand, David Judith motions to leave the cup on the table. Leave the room disappear.
But she stops at the door, uncertain. His fingers closed on the handle firmly, glancing down the hall.
"Herrera says he needs to talk to her," he ventures, clearing his voice. "He asks if he can give him ten minutes in the morning ..."
"No," was the dry response. One look, and Judith is quick to nod.
He buttoned his shirt almost under his chin, he notes. Felt like it would be fun to laugh, because his discomfort is a spectacle that is to say more clearly, it would be interesting to bet if you find the courage to do it or not. If he can not die first.
"I prayed that he would like to relate them to receive instructions for tomorrow," he finally decides to stutter, and suddenly shudders when he looks up to plant it firmly inside her. A hard look - sharp.
"Okay, today I say that has not time ... "ensures fast moving one step back. Pulling the door below, to reduce the opening to a thin crack.
"Then there would be his stepfather," he adds, almost in a whisper. "You just arrived, he wants to join him in his office as soon as possible."
The next moment has already gone down the hall - almost an escape. Strategic retreat.
And he can let themselves go against the chair back, threw back his head. Loosen the tie with an abrupt gesture, exasperated.
work so you can not - not with how his team with his stepfather and that is my breath neck. Not with that kid of shit in the brain in mind. With the odious sense of defeat to avenge.
must deal with the matter seriously - fuck Keith once and for all and then make them pay any interference in his life. Make him pay for the insult of any waste - still can not believe that he was able to send non-white one, but two nights. He can not forgive him for having dared to express opinions on his conduct and his moral - take it to bed not to close the question even if they were taking her virginity and doing so in a certain way. To leave forever engraved on the rematch.
The game is over - this is the decision who has completed when you finally decide to get up from his chair to head listlessly in the study of her father.
is already prepared to deal with yet another string of questions and recommendations - so for weeks now: the old man appears structurally incapable of not interfering in the case of Holmes and his reluctance to involve it has done nothing but encourage the obsession, tighten interference. Take a child his toy and it'll scream like hell - was to be expected.
David had not accounted to him for having to answer to someone for not having granted fed to reporters, though: the warnings are generally invited to hold at bay vanity and involvement - to downsize his ego. In fact he had planned to manage printing in order to get as much exposure as possible, in the wake of the media interest case.
He realizes only now that has come to choose inputs always secondary when it comes to access to the court. Or go to study, to enter the prison. The only time that the cameramen were able to get them dismissed with a terse: "Not now," and almost in secret and far exit of the last preliminary hearing.
"I simply preferred to wait until all the others had made their entrance on stage," says the old man now, and for a moment the smell of cigar closes the stomach in a spasm of nausea.
"The hero always comes last," he chuckles.
From behind the desk inlaid in-law watches him without flinching when it grunts and between the teeth, property: "All right then," he was caught by the sudden feeling that is going to impose something particularly odious. Something that will not be easy without exposing itself to avoid further suspicion and pressure, to more heavy interference.
"I spoke with Nancy Grace this morning," comes the announcement, and he raised his eyes suddenly. "Your presence is confirmed in transmission for tonight, you will be connected from their home in New York. "
" You're kidding, I hope. "
" You can contact them directly for details. "
" No. "The voice sounds dry
- severe - and perhaps the first time happens. The first time that a waste does not go to his father to cross roads, which is not processed in a diplomatic and effective.
Breathing deeply, David Greenhouse's jaw in a final attempt to control.
"I need to handle the matter in my own way, Larry," marks. "You had full confidence once."
And he thinks that has never been so in the end - that everything went smoothly only until the old man was able to exert its influence on him. Instruct and guide and supervise every move. He liked the idea of having a disciple, he never wanted anything different.
autonomy was not covered from the beginning, in his plan.
"no process will focus on an ever so strong media interest. Do you really think it is only for your professional qualities, which was entrusted to you? "Is indeed the answer, and any suggestion to avoid the obstacle collides with the knowledge that this time will not help - you have to swallow the medicine to hope to carve out space in the future. That played it wrong, this hand. And it is his fault.
to blame tiredness and questions that should not arise, because of having released the reins for a moment when he knew very well that they can not afford anything like that.
feels like to explain the perfect kid, what are the tradeoffs.
What it means to have a process that opens the next morning and spending the night on TV, face a slut willing to put a corner to secure his weekly dose of audience and having to win by force, that cause. Having to win because you put the face because half of America will say that it is only for your face that you're there. Because I
is saying your father, and you can not even afford to take a punch. You can not do anything.
David knows how to deal with the cameras - it is important to know when to smile and when it becomes critical gaze into the lens. He knows how to turn to his advantage a question, like getting out unscathed from the pitfalls and how to measure out the bastards more seriously with the irony. How to flaunt safety.
But nothing is automatic - the tension is entirely concentrated in the shoulders and pass on the monitor while the testimony of the victims of a novel he thinks he should know that too, the little boy: what it costs to keep a straight face, remove any shadow from the face of nervousness and remain faithful the script to the end. Until the window of the Jaguar never return to free wind speed and the roar of the engine does not dissolve in each other cry, until in the distance does not appear the sign of the usual red hotel.
There had been no prospect of meeting Vivian everything would have been even harder, probably. But it's Thursday - the day when there is no need to make an appointment. The day reserved for only the two of them agreed together.
twenty-three hours each week. In that hotel.
This time I'm eleven forty, though, and David is still dressed. Still standing by the window - the phone wedged between shoulder and mandible. Frowning expression in rigid, tight-lipped.
In the room, all around, a very unusual order.
"Hello?"
"It's more than half an hour I am ready, if we want to be precise," articulates the phone, casually lifting his elbow to throw at his watch. "What happened to you, has something happened?"
"David!" There
that the enthusiasm of an unexpected call, the voice of Vivian, and this is perhaps to be particularly suspect.
"I thought you were busy with work: you alright?"
dropped it on the edge of the bed, he sighs. Resigned.
"So you want me to believe that the reason why you're giving me the hole is deep respect that leads to my work?"
"I did not start giving the hole," replied the other, cautiously. "You're usually the hotel?"
"Vivian." Pause.
there to give him that respect still has a whiteness of his own, even in some things. Nothing to do with the theatricality of the mutinies of Samuel or the icy coldness of waste Megan. You can even get angry with him. Perhaps, indeed, could be considered the most insidious of all.
"Lift your pretty ass to wherever you have parked it and come here right away - you know exactly where, "she says into the receiver, giving himself back on the mattress. "Take a taxi, you refund the money when you arrive."
Following is the complete darkness.
hard to believe that way of being dropped, David, when the collapse of the mattress alert the senses to snatching a nearly comatose sleep: Vivian is there, sitting beside her. And he is watching from above - the term loosely uncertain of who does not know how to deal with an unusual situation. The hair on the eyes - messy. The head just tilted to one side, in that posture which is typical of its most spontaneous.
"Oh, shit!" He says, pulling on his elbows. "I must have fallen asleep, shit ..."
"Do not worry," comes the reply, while the boy leans over to kiss him gently on the cheek. "Heavy Day?" He adds.
But David has already frowned, sensing something is already heavily dystonia. Not that that night was devoid of surreal moments - in some cases it was asked what the reality really can overcome the most absurd fantasies. The most unexpected and grotesque. But Vivian
that kisses on the cheek would be alarming in any context, let alone if he just tried to forget their appointment. If he sits on the edge of the bed to put out the hair from her face as she did her grandmother when she was six. With the same maternal tenderness - chilling.
moving away almost abruptly, he stretches out his hand on the table to retrieve cigarettes and matches.
"I bet you have a headache," scans, looked at him. "The question really would be between that and the cycle, but I doubt you'll the excuse of the second."
"Headache?" Repeated the other, confused. "I have no headaches, David. Are you, what seems on the verge of collapse at moment. "
" I'm not breaking down. I do not ever collapse, "is the answer, annoyed.
There continues to be something that does not return, but the rationality refuses to believe that the problem can even remotely relate to sex: the last time it was perfect - no problems and absolutely no recrimination later.
David is convinced that it did not yet senile so as not to recognize a good fuck from a disaster - usually with Vivian, then, is also very attentive.
particularly incisive, and convincing.
"So?" He smiles, pulling up and blowing away the smoke. Spreading the arms of front of him - an offer evidence of its body. A call for an accomplice, agreed. Vivian
no signs of wanting to move, however, and continues to fix it with the same hesitation little nervous before. The same strange look - uncertain.
"I thought ..." begins in a low voice. He clears his throat, then - turn your head the other side. "Keith is my friend, David. Do not ... I can not go to bed with you and in the meantime ... "He combines
eyebrows, motionless.
"I know you are looking at Keith," said the boy, softly. "What you're left with a few days ago ... I can not try to convince him to jump and Meanwhile, continue to have sex with you. It's like betraying him, "he concludes, was not the last chapter of a harmony misspelled. Or the moment a tear-jerking soap opera Judith.
And David left his arms fall slowly down the sides - a slow motion almost. Let the smoke around the arm slides in a continuous ribbon, which is dwindling in the eyes two sharp cracks. Two scythes of very dark black on the face.
He can not believe it.
becomes every moment more unreal, that situation - like a dream-like plot where the individual instances, but acknowledge that the overall logic structure can not make any sense, no consistency.
Vivian is talking seriously and the thing funny is that he has not even been able to kiss him, her precious friend of the heart. The tragic thing is that the choice is being presented - all decided it was probably unknown to him the same afternoon in which Vivian was submitted to Keith.
now also understand why it is not immediately come to the hotel tonight - understands the hesitation and uncertainty of looks. The kiss on the cheek.
For a moment, madly, it's almost about to hurl an ashtray against the mirror. Kicked in the closet, sweep away the glasses from the table and set fire to everything - carpets and curtains and sheets. Breathe deeply
another mouthful of smoke instead. Shaking the dust, and turns his back to the boy.
"I believe that force you to attend the professor will be even more stoned than it is him," articulates finally loosened his tie.
But he knows that the game is lost now - and that's another thing to be served at Keith. Perhaps the only one that can never really forgive him, the most cowardly and most absurd.
dropping his chair, passing his hand quickly through his hair.
"Why?" Application Vivian, on the other side of the room. "Just because I think it might work between you and Keith?"
"Do not I care what you think, "is the answer, abrupt. More abrupt than David would have wanted, actually. "You have made a decision - do not agree with the reasons but I can not help but respect it."
"I had not reckoned, then," said another, with an ironic snort, "Keith was right, it it seems. "
" Keith is always right, I do not know? "
" Keith has virtually never reason, especially when it comes to him and the effect they have on others. I mean, is still convinced that you consider it the most stupid and pathetic person ever appeared on earth, " scandisce Vivian, asciutto. “E che non gli avresti dato mezzo secondo di considerazione se non fosse stato mio amico… Ma me l’aveva detto, che non l’avresti presa bene."
“Esatto. Ci vuole davvero un’intelligenza superiore alla media, per immaginare una cosa simile,” sibila lui, eppure non è che una rabbia frustrata. Una freccia avvelenata che continua a sbagliare bersaglio e che forse non vuole neanche centrarlo davvero, il nucleo della questione.
La verità è che si tratta di Vivian, e Vivian smuove sempre qualcosa molto in profondità: qualcosa che vorresti stracciare con disappunto, a volte. Qualcosa che invece finisci sempre per guardare dritto in faccia e che ti fa scuotere the head in front of any war. Any claim.
vanishes.
"Damn. Let's stop talking about Keith, please, "then sighs, reaching for the boy as if to invite him to come closer. Slips more comfortably on the seat of the chair, in the meantime. "I have not seen you two weeks."
"Yeah."
Smiling comes naturally, in response to his smile. What Vivian has flavor of melancholy and disappointed expectations - at least it is fragile because its is open. Cozy and soft. "I missed you," the mumbling, and closes his fingers firmly on his wrist.
It pulls near, sistemandoselo without stress on the knees.
"I know," he jokes, and threw back his head. The tilt to one side, wetting his lips. "Once someone has experienced is not easy to survive without me."
"Actually I was just about to call you yesterday."
"It always happens, my name is music." Giggling
Vivian shakes head, and David knows that fail so atrocious. Who will want to kiss and undress and touch - to hear him and want to breathe in her hair. To see him crouch between their legs.
Now the only important thing seems to be that he is smiling, though.
That has laid her cheek on his chest - he closed his eyes.
"No, that is ... I need to see you, I think," she whispers, and he's touching his throat with the back of the hand.
"You are going to make me a declaration of love?" He grinned.
"I went to Samuel, yesterday afternoon," says Vivian, however, his voice low. Almost choked against the fabric of his shirt - a little 'tired. "I do not ..." Pause. "You know him, the man for whom he was writing his book? Have you ever met? "
" Edward Logan? "
" No ... " The boy bites his lip, and hold the eyelids. "Bjorn," he says.
And David raises his head, surprised - by bending the neck to spear Vivian incredulous look. Suspicious, too, and just a little 'disappointed.
"Damn, I knew it!" Puffing, pushing the boy's shoulders with both hands. "It 's been a professor at the dumb, it was obvious!"
"I was not senile," Vivian protest, dragging his feet. He runs his hand through his hair, absently, glancing toward the bed - to the window. Taking a deep breath, move a few steps toward the other side of the room.
"Maybe I'm just tired," he adds, shaking his head. "I should go to sleep too, I think ..."
"Vivian." One breath, deep. "What's up, mh?" He asks.
But there are no answers at the moment - only the stillness and the boy lost his eye, his shoulders tense. David
must be no violence to achieve it and tie his arms around her waist - kissed her neck and say something in a low voice, no matter that makes sense. No matter that they are not lying - cheating or stories or notes of a song. The
spoke too hard tonight - too much distance, and shadow Keith continuously between them. Other people, too.
were not alone even a single minute in that room.
"He's my brother," however, comes the revelation, sudden, and suddenly the nerves are stretched on their own. He straightens his back suddenly, leaning forward.
"Your brother?" Exclaimed, confused. "Who would be your brother?"
Yet the answer is there - already clinging to the shoulders as the most vile of enemies. There would be no need for Vivian spoke, whispering softly, "Björn."
David stands up, his eyes are sharp as blades while the other adds, almost to explain: "... The Viking Sam's this? I found out yesterday ... It was a bit 'unsettling, I think. "
" The Viking Sam? "
" I found out last night. "
And here at last, the final insult: whole months spent waiting that the boy decided to reveal something of themselves and then be caught up in hatred Samuel thread that is interwoven with a whole life - fate and Northern Ireland and every other kind of bullshit.
Their tug of war lost in one move and the mind that runs frantic pieces of dialogue ever really listened to, words now lost in the labyrinths distraction.
The novel, and the hero come to life. The story - fiction. And reality.
Where the one and really ended where it started the other? He can not be answered
David - has never been able to do so.
"Samuel told you?" Asks instinctively, but Vivian shakes her head slowly.
"No," he says. "I mean, she told me her name, the coincidences were too many and I asked him if he knew ..." He shrugs - the glances. "The time was right. I was the one to tell him he's my brother. "
" You have a brother, then? "
A nod of confirmation, nervous.
"And the professor knew? What did you say, Vivian, who told you? "
" Sam knew nothing about it, I told you when I know ... "Taking a deep breath, the boy takes a step toward him. "I did not cheat but ... I feel a bit 'as if I had done all this time."
"Do not talk nonsense, it's just a coincidence," says David, and thinks back to the parks for dogs ponds and ducks. What is disgustingly small that city - to Samuel that you're probably gloating in the certainty that all his outlandish theories have finally been confirmed. And damn the novel, the chapter that his friend has read that winter afternoon.
The main character come to life.
quickly diverting the mind, a hand is pressed hard on the eyes.
"Okay," she says, trying to joke. "You'd be a Viking bonsai, then."
down Vivian's eyes.
"Your sense of humor was definitely the thing I missed most," he says, but she is smiling. He stopped in front of him again, and is shaking his head with amusement.
"I think I did too much effect Bj because now he is in New York. For months. And as he spoke I did not expect at all that Sam had a history so recent - it took me by surprise. "
" But you should know that even the most recent were written eons ago in the ancient book of destiny, "he chuckles , stretching their hands on the zip of his jersey.
raises an eyebrow, then - down the zipper. "The space and time ... What do you want?"
"David." Arching an eyebrow, in turn, Vivian stares into his eyes. "What are you doing?"
And if you question what he is doing - the mind continues to lose in the fragments of conversations with Samuel and the body seems to have found it out of habit, the way of contact with Vivian. The instinctive need to give protection and strength - make him smile.
Keith had already forgotten the problem, but also has the presence of mind to answer, calmly: "I bare. Now we sleep here tonight and I'm not going to share a bed with a boy who is top cat impel by the professor. "
not close eye, of course, but for the first time in days will not be the adrenaline to keep him awake or just opened the game with Keith - will not be the words of Megan and even the continuous pressure of his stepfather.
Vivian breathe regularly - her hair caught in the lips and it seems clear asleep in the sleep of the children while he is watching from above. Property.
Yet one wonders if he really had the childhood - a childhood without monsters and no secrets, no nightmares of light. It's no wonder really know what his brother Samuel, the boundary between fiction and reality and where it is specifically intended to carry the famous road to the North.
He never believed that one day he would put certain questions, David.
It would not have imagined that the challenge of a process could weigh so much - that would count hours with the mad hope that time would stop there: in that hotel room, in the abandonment of peaceful sleep Vivian.
One breath, and another. Another.
Until the dawn light will filter into the room and it's time to look at their faces one by one, all the ghosts. Expose and flush them out from their secret - arm yourself. And then, without any uncertainty, prepare for war.
* And the war came
Et nous voilà ce soir.
(Jacques Brel - Mon enfance)
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