Women Who Do The Weather

Antonio Lucio patted his back and entered the cabin to change his shirt. Lucius leaned against the railing, looked at the wheel of Don Guido as if it were a pearl or a foreign currency, and finally threw it into the ocean with the solemnity of a king who decides to break away from its former wealth to be given to asceticism. .. He dropped it, actually, and it was as if the wheel had fallen also its spirit, the will. The

of sight before they reached the sea. Why
suddenly reappeared fear to question the nobility of their dreams. Why. He looked stern. He looked toward the bow.

The ship was underway, was had an origin and a destination, but on repeated, endless cycles, that left him bitter taste of despair, it was as if that was never finished. Lucio did not know of heaven or constellations, when I looked into the night, only saw stars, a splash of light that anything they said. It was always the same show and it seemed that it would continue until eternity. However it was clear that Maria Fioravanti one day come to port, and while not missing much for that, the trip seemed to him interminable. The reality was nothing but an endless sea and a boat stubbornly through it alone, leaving behind a trace that immediately buried water. The sun was always from the old track and put in the virgin field, where the bow is headed. But if Lucio looked forward, saw only blue and more blue, and sometimes a small line between them. Nothing more. Only water, sky, and endless travel. The past seemed like a dream, a lie. Alma and the girl had not been more than a trick of his imagination. America, a stupid illusion. Neither were the only truth was that now silent, damp, without variation, without consolation. Yet I knew, he knew there where the sun would eventually die that day, waiting for a port a land, and behind, where the sun was trying to retake the hill vaulted a world that was also expected, as expected. And even if I knew it, I know. Lucio had wanted to live his entire life at that moment. Everyone, from the first of his days to the last, experiencing every second in one second. And there remain with shovels, burying their fears.

closed his eyes and strove to feel alive, in himself, as when he left Italy without looking back, every one of his dreams. Endeavored to return their forms, its harshness, its flavors and aromas; were forced to return the images that achieve very soothing every morning, awake. He forced himself to feel ass, to think only in this donkey. But nothing, nothing, only a fist clutching his chest until he hurt. Only this, and blue. I needed something, holy God, only he knew how much I needed a word, although it was suggested, in order to regain the will to let him go through another day, prayed, prayed for a sign, pleaded with the angels of that endless sky, so blue as the sea, let him feel a warm hand resting on his shoulder, a helping hand, an injection of Fe, the hand of Christ who had been with him ever. He closed his eyes again, he imagined a cloud breaking blue monotony, then another and another, and let the clouds go down to moisten the face, it was a warm moisture, like the hand you expected, falling slowly down his face, causing a slight tickle in the skin could feel the life of that moisture from the sky piercing his face to fall on his lips, to lead where the parched thirst, anxiety, and then spent his tongue along the rim of the lip and tasted the substance of that saving tag, angelica ... knew the sea. And then he heard the voice.

"Thank you, young Lucius. Lucio

turned startled. It was Hope.

- "Thanks for what? - Hesitated.

"At my father.

"It was nothing," said Lucius, looking back, perhaps hoping that the sea threw him back the wheel, as he had done with his mind.

would have wanted to engage an intelligent conversation with Hope, but the words and the meaning of the words were gone. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out of there and, embarrassed, closed. She leaned against the railing and looked out to sea (as if nothing existed in the world than the sea and the sky blue, Lucio thought, but now, with hope, with an inexplicable joy.)

-finally know my name dared to say.

"Sure, my father does nothing but talk about you, he has fallen in grace, and now with her help ...

"It was nothing, I told you.

"Oh, no, it was a lot, you do not know as he was suffering the wheel.

- Did we hurt from before?

"Yes, for months. Suffered so much every time he attacked the pain seemed to die. But now no longer has to worry about.

"No, of course," he said, looking down, as if afraid that, this time, the wheel retrieved.

- took out a lot?

- How?

"My aunt says you're a famous tooth-puller.

"Uh, yeah ... but ... You know is strange to see one around here, Mr. Guido would not let him.

"No, not my father, my mother who keeps me in the cabin, but is now entertaining with breakfast and my Aunt Mary is helping," said Hope, and then said, "I imagine beautiful.

- What?

-La America, so far. Lucio

looked at the blue horizon and smiled.

- Hope!

"It's my mother, better return to the cabin.

Antonio, hidden in the darkness of thirty, he looked away.


Chapter 11