“Excuse me, do you have a painkiller?”, I ask, “I want this awful headache to go away.”
The shadow gesticulates with his hands, moving them to the right and to the left, he stares at me for a while with the two lights that he has in place of his eyes, then, without answering to me, he goes away leaving me alone and without any chance to take away from me the dizziness due to the headache.
I feel powerless in this situation, with the headache that never goes away and, instead, it seems to increase, giving up more and more. I don’t react, I look like an unarmed fighter.
What can I do?
Far away, behind me, I see some small fires, maybe six or seven, like candles. What do they mean? I don’t even have the energy to make up hypothesis.
Other vehicles pass by me, walking pace, I see them without being able to distinguish them, they appear to me like masses of metal sheets and light. Why?
This scene goes on like this for a while, I spend the time distractedly watching all that’s happening around me and realising that I’m bystander grown apart, shot down by the strong migraine.
xxiii
The morning after, Luigi showed up at the gym that was suggested by the doctors to start the long rehabilitation procedure.
“Come, mister Mazza”, a twenty-five years old girl greeted him, “I’ll introduce you the person that will follow you all the time.”
They started walking towards a specifically furnished room, where a guy in his tracksuit was organizing the gymnastic equipment.
“Here, he’s Massimo,” said the girl, “I introduce you mister Luigi Mazza.”
The two greeted and, after a few moments, they were alone in the gym and the rehabilitation sessions started.
xxiv
Mario Mazza found the phone number of the traffic police that was the nearest possible to the house and, after getting informed about office hours, he went there in person to ask for some information about the accident that got his brother involved.
He was received by a lady in her fifty that, as soon as she saw him coming in, she put the sandwich she was eating down and said: “Hello, can I help you?”
“I hope so”, he replied, “I’m looking for some information”
“Tell me”
“Maybe you could help me. About two or three weeks ago, on Bologna’s orbital road took place a car accident. I would like to know more about it.”
“Mm… are you a journalist?”
Mario smiled and said: “No, don’t worry. It’s just that my brother was involved in that accident.”