That Saturday night, the starry sky and the cool air were good reasons to go for a walk outdoors. An Arabian moon, cut out with precise definition, allowed a glimpse of the rest of the moon which was in the shade, just as a beautiful woman wearing a robe, reveals her figure through a fine silk fabric. The neighbourhood had already been asleep for a while.
The streets were going to be cleaned at three oclock in the morning; therefore the area was clear of the cars that usually parked there. A summery wind, which carried a faint sea fragrance, played with a tin can on the ground, causing it to tumble from time to time with a metallic sound, which was the only sound in the silence of the night, when Damien opened the gate and walked out of his property.
Chopin walked silently at his side, turning his nose to the right and to the left, but in a distracted and bored manner, with no desire to go hunting.
Giovanni had already gone to bed. He cleared the table and rearranged the kitchen before going to his room; he said goodnight to Damien and told him that he had prepared a new flavour Ainòs.
Tzu tusk! Damien made a sound to call back the cat.
Miaooooo! Chopin replied, turning his head back toward his friend who was already a little far away from him.
Come here! Stand by Me! Psssssst!
The cat stopped and waited for Damien, yawning. Then, together, with the same quiet step, they made their way to the store, just around the corner of the street.
Once they arrived in front of the closed door, Damien observed that the security guard had already passed by, for he noticed the white slip that proved he had passed by the store placed in a track of the shutter.
Next to that track, on the ledge, was the stores mailbox. From the opening protruded a yellow envelope.
How strange... a letter, why didnt the mailman bring it to the store this morning? he thought as he pulled it out with guarded curiosity.
Attracted by the colour of the paper, lit by the light of a nearby street lamp, a plump but still hungry mosquito went to lie on Damien's hand. And it died right then and there.
He felt, with a certain pain, the stab that pierced his muscle between his thumb and his forefinger.
Well... I no longer can do anything for you! speaking to the small insect that was already in the cats mouth.
Taking advantage of the street lamp, he opened the envelope, which was addressed simply to: Mr Damien G., and was written and delivered by hand, because it had no postage. Inside the envelope was a chequered sheet of paper, the kind that can be pulled from a small notebook and in fact, it had tear marks on the top edge.
If that mosquito had not had the arrogance to bite his hand, Damien would have been able to feel, although slightly, if the sender could be a potentially receptive individual.
But, since his hand was sore, he put the paper in his left hand. He didnt feel anything.
What a shame! He said to Chopin, who looked at him with his little head tilted sideways, and then, as if he understood him, (and indeed he had), he shook his head and sat down, waiting for the rest of the comments on the letter.
Dear Mr Damien,
You sold an electronic cigarette
and a liquid refill with nicotine to my daughter,
who it is still a minor.
I'm sure Its not the first time that you break
the Law and therefore I warn you that soon youll receive the visit of the Anti-Adulteration Squad, Im sure that they will find something for which theyll fine you.
Indeed, I hope so.
A pissed off parent
A slow motion movie played fast in Damiens memory, who tried to remember who that girl to whom he had sold cigarettes and nicotine could be, although he was convinced of the absurdity of those accusations. Surely it had to be something recent, less than a month ago. Could it be that he had sold a cigarette to a minor? No, it wasnt possible, when he had doubts he always asked for a document. What if a friend bought it for her? This could be the most conceivable explanation.
How much time passes before a good parent realizes that his daughter vapes or smokes?
Oh God... its not hard to understand that your child smokes. Their breath, clothes, hair, everything is saturated with the smell of smoke. But its hard to notice that they vape! Of course the electronic cigarette is not a tool that comes on its own. It has a battery charger, a bottle of liquid, perhaps even a box, or a strap. A lot of things that need to be hidden, Dont you think so Chopin? He questioned the cat by thought alone.
The animal stood up on its feet, walked around itself, as if he was chasing his tail and resumed the direction from where they had come. Damien folded the paper, put it in his jacket pocket and continued walking towards the main street.
He turned just a moment to see if the cat had actually taken the road home.
Part four (Massimo)
While Damien folded the anonymous letter, not far from him, Massimo put the letter he had received from the Italian Social Security Service in a drawer. In it was written that he was granted the attendance allowance he had requested for his elderly and disabled mother. That long-awaited financial help had finally arrived, and Massimo was to show up on the following Monday at the specific offices to formalize everything.
The letter, made up of just a few valuable lines, arrived on Friday morning. That Saturday night, before falling asleep, he read it over again. Good news usually heralds a good dream, as bad news brings bad ones. Without even thinking about it that much, Massimo related the many positive things that had happened to him in that short lapse of time, to his meeting with Damien. Not that he thought that Damien had some kind of special power; rather he credited the events in his favour to his courageous decision to quit smoking. And he had made that decision prompted by Damiens encouragement. Something in his mind had changed.
In re-reading the letter, in Massimos head happened the same thing that happened to Damien. Just like two people sitting in a movie theatre at the same time, watching two different movies, in two different theatres at the same cinema: Memory Cinema.
Following his fathers death, when Massimo was just eighteen years old, the world had become a hostile place to him. Finishing school and graduating as a surveyor had involved considerable sacrifices. His father was the only one who had a steady job, but he didnt even accrue the minimum of his pension contributions, while his mother, a housewife who did a little domestic work here and there, was able to earn just enough money for their daily expenses. They needed to pay their mortgage. When they signed the papers with the bank for the purchase of the apartment, they didnt even consider insurance in case of death. Who'll kill me? Massimos father asked. But in the 90s, cancer killed a lot of people.
So Massimo had to find an evening job and found one in a bar in the historic centre of Florence. One of those bars that closed at two in the morning, if all went well. Therefore, he worked the shift from seven p.m. to two a.m., got home at two thirty in the morning, slept five hours and went to school. After lunch, he napped for an hour, studied, had a snack and ran off, back to the bar. When he was twenty years old, he was so skinny, he seemed ill.Immediately after graduation things seemed to get better. An established engineering agency was looking for a technical designer and Massimo found his ideal job for ten years. Then came the moment when his pride beat his rationality. He decided to take the plunge and open his own Studio as a Surveyor and try to become a self-employed professional. And thats when his problems began. The construction crisis, the few customers who paid him, did so late or at a very low price; the weight of bureaucracy, the thousands of complex rules which limited his project ideas and, finally, his mother was stricken with Alzheimers disease. This combination of circumstances triggered a steady and progressive dissatisfaction in Massimo, which turned into a state of depression, from which, however, he now seemed to be slowly coming out of.The decision to quit smoking and the fact that he was succeeding; his meeting with Sonia, (and the fact that he liked her!); having found a new world, the VAPE world, which led to new acquaintances, such as Damiens shop and other Vapers that he had met in the meanwhile; these events were, in Massimos mind, giving a new sense to his life. Maybe it wasnt that bad at all.