Authors: Massimo Russo
Tommy realized from Norman’s baffled expression that he was completely in the dark.
“Mr. O’Neal. You disappoint me. You’re not going to tell me it never occurred to you. All those seemingly accidental encounters? You met her as well, didn’t you? She’ll have tried it on with you too, I presume?”
“But...”
“Oh, come on! I must say that even I didn’t cotton on at first. But afterwards, thinking about it and putting the pieces together .... and that unmistakable name. Luc. I’ll draw you a picture if you like.”
“You know Luc?”
“We all know him! We’ve all heard talk about him, but we’ve always tried to hide him behind illusions that we avoid looking at. He’s our nature, our only truth, our damnation, our greatest desire, one that’s only curbed by a primordial instinct for compassion toward whoever we want to save from the only thing we’re nonetheless compelled to follow: Lucifer is our light!”
A thunderbolt struck Norman’s mind. The last fragment of the puzzle slotted into place. Everything made perfect sense now. The devil had tried to take possession of his soul in order to control all future generations that clung to the words of an ambitious poet. That power would enable him to rout all competition; no other being would be able to oppose him for long. Although it was an extremely unnerving situation, Norman could only admire such perfectly honed reasoning: the devil intended to hold sway over people’s souls by manipulating them with words of love. A contradiction so great it would plunge the whole universe into the abyss.
“So, Mr. O’Neal, there we have it. I can see in your eyes that the light has dawned. Welcome to mankind’s last day. Why don’t we celebrate together?”
“Lucifer’s failed! I didn’t decide to take my own life out of desperation. I decided to give it as a sacrifice.”
“My dear friend! You don’t have to worry yourself about that any longer. It’s not up to you anymore. Maybe you need another push in the right direction, because you haven’t taken the whole picture into consideration. He probably knew all about your weakness and that’s why he sent me here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You’d kill the only light left on earth? How do you think you’ll control the souls that follow me?”
“There’s your big mistake: you can’t see beyond yourself. People don’t know your face, only your words. So we only need to make a small substitution. Nobody will notice a thing and I’ll finally be able to say I’m Mr. O’Neal, the light that will take everyone towards the only possible conclusion.”
“You’re crazy! What do you get out of all of this? You made a deal with him, didn’t you? He’ll take your soul and leave you with nothing!”
“That’s not exactly true, Mr. O’Neal. My image will be engraved in time and what everyone will remember will be my name and my face. I’ll be immortal! I’ll even be more powerful than the devil! Ha, ha, ha!”
His hysterical laughter soared upwards, carried away on the clear, icy air. Norman was utterly bemused by such simple and perverse logic. It was probably the best line of reasoning he had ever heard. He wondered how the devil could sit back and be a party to a theft like that, how he could allow a human being to have more ambition and power than he wanted for himself, the king of all earthly imperfections.
“You know what I think, Mr. O’Neal? I’ve had enough of all this nonsense. You’re a weakling and you don’t deserve to talk to me or to be in the position that’s mine by rights. So, I’ll take my leave of you; I’ve got a date with history to rewrite the future of the world.”
He raised his gun and aimed it at the heart of the human being who had succeeded more than anyone else in striking a chord in the hearts of others. He didn’t hesitate for a second, and neither did fate, who, as always, was watching history to give it the chance to carry on hoping.
Chapter 43
Alex paused, alarmed by footsteps trampling the brambles that signaled the arrival of someone who hadn’t been invited to his party. He clamped his hand over Will’s mouth. The boy was struggling get out of his captor’s clutches, but the only sound he managed to utter was a soft grunting that blended in with the rustlings that forest animals make to give comfort to those who seek it in silence and peace. Will tried to wriggle his small, naked body from the grasp of a sick man who was trying to abuse it in an attempt to gain a freedom he had never possessed.
The sound of the footsteps was followed by the voices of two men. Alex wondered whether the interruption would last long or whether it was just two curious individuals exploring a hitherto undiscovered place. The conversation that followed unsettled him. He didn’t know how, but one of them was saying Will’s name. Evidently, the blow to the old man’s head in the bar hadn’t been hard enough to knock him out for the time Alex needed to purify his soul; he had managed to raise the alarm and get two men to help him. Alex should have tied him up in the storeroom. The oversight annoyed him. But, from what he could make out, the two intruders were arguing. He tried to peer through the bushes; he couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if one of them was pointing a gun at the other.
His brain wandered back in time, to a similar moment, and his mind cleared: that man was no stranger, but his father, come back to finish the job.
Suddenly, he was filled with sadness and anguish, and his hand loosened its grip on his new young friend. It was no longer Will’s face, but the boy he had loved since their schooldays, ever since they had begun to explore together a world unknown to either of them, a world made up of small things, stolen glances and thrilling emotions. A world of their own, where they had tried to bolster each other’s courage, holding hands and whispering such tender words that love was moved to pity. A world that was a refuge for their kisses and caresses, where they were overawed by the magical, fragile events that were dearer than their own lives. That world had been swept away by a father who had never wanted to accept it. Before Alex could react, the monster had killed his beloved, battering him so viciously and repeatedly that he couldn’t get away. His reflex action of pushing his father out of the bedroom window had come too late. The monster was dead, but so was love, as if fate had needed to balance the scales. Now, though, Alex had the chance to settle the score: there, a few steps away, was the monster, come back to look for him, while he and his beloved were following the only path to happiness. Alex wouldn’t allow him to kill his love again; this time, he would strike first. He turned to Will, drowning in those eyes that kindled emotions beyond description each time he looked into them. He bent to his ear, trying to find a way to reassure him.
“Hi, Sam, my darling. Stay here for a minute. There’s something I’ve got to do and it can’t wait.”
Will stared at him, but wasn’t listening. He knew that something had changed in those eyes. Alex had let him go and he could breathe again. But his damaged heart could no longer bear the strain. He was afraid his time had come, but he lost consciousness before he could figure out whether he would wake up again.
Alex laid him gently on the leaves and kissed him. Then he stood up to put an end to a story he hadn’t yet been able to alter. He would go back to him afterwards and they would continue their wonderful journey together without further interruption. He heard his father’s voice calling to him.
“Where are you, you disgusting fairy? Show yourself, you bastard. I’ve got just the cure for you. Filthy damn poof!”
Alex made no reply. He relished the surprise he would give by coming at him from behind. He felt calm, extremely calm. He felt no pressure at all; he would take all the time he needed.
“Hey, you dirty queer! You can’t hide. I’m your father and I’m here to help you. Come on, you bloody animal. Come to Daddy. I’ll find you and that nancy friend of yours and I’ll give you both a lesson you won’t forget. A stiff lesson that’ll toughen you up like a soldier, then you’ll be strong and ready for anything. You’ll hate queers and you’ll have got rid of that sickness. Alex? Come out, damn you! Come on! I’ll make you the man you’ve always wanted to be, instead of the faggot you think you are!”
Alex struggled to stay calm, but those words stung more than a thousand lashes. He saw his father a yard away from him. He waited for the right moment and then, with a leap like a lion, he pounced on him.
A gunshot rang through the trees. Tommy couldn’t understand what was happening. He clearly heard angry words and felt hands clasping his throat, strangling him; the strength of that grip surprised him. Norman stared at the scene in disbelief. He didn’t recognise the man who had leapt on the individual who was about to kill him, but he thanked the fate that had been watching, and noted that he was indebted.
Tommy couldn’t move; Alex’s strength was fueled by an anger that was unstoppable. He tried to wriggle away, but his efforts were in vain. He saw his gun a few inches away; it would only take a small movement to reach it and end this nightmare. His physical training, based on rigorous daily exercise, was worse than useless against that unexpected attacker. Alex, thanks to the harshness of his father’s barbaric methods, seemed too strong to beat.
Norman watched with all the anxiety of a spectator who finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. He saw the man who had charged from the bushes hanging on for dear life and the one who had led him down the path being throttled to death. Then, another gunshot signaled game-over. The winner, however, was still be be determined; that task had been left, as always, to fate, the only umpire capable of making such a decisive choice.
Alex let go and stood up, swaying with fatigue; Tommy was still sprawled on his back. Their clothes were covered in blood. Alex looked at Norman, as if searching for a sign of approval and confirmation of his victory. He stepped forward, then the force of gravity took hold of his injured body and felled him. The winner was declared.
Tommy flexed his legs and tried to stand up to finish the job he had started. Norman swiftly took the opportunity that presented itself, the only one that would turn things in his favor. He grabbed a heavy branch from the path beside him and flung himself at Tommy, striking him with a fury he hadn’t known he possessed. One blow was all it took to prevent him from getting up. Norman’s idea was to disarm him and tie him up and then wait for him to come round and make him confess where his son was hidden. He patiently began the job at hand. He picked up the gun and made sure Tommy was still unconscious. Then he turned to Alex and saw he was no longer breathing, was in fact dead. He searched for something to bind Tommy’s arms and legs together. He was exhausted, but couldn’t quit yet.
There was nothing suitable in the vicinity, but as he looked around, he noticed a red heap at the end of the path that jarred with the green of nature. It couldn’t be a plant; it was the wrong season for such vibrant colors to be in bloom. Keeping an eye on the man he needed to tie up, he stepped closer to the patch of color. He couldn’t make out what it was until he was on top of it. It was a jacket, and it was too small for a man.
“Will!”
Yet again, panic became part of his life, a life that was more bedeviled than ever on that particular day. He tried to calm himself and then peered into the brambles. There was something else a couple of yards away. He plunged into the maze of branches, oblivious to the thorns scratching him. He focused on the scene before him: a pair of blue trousers discarded on the ground that resembled those worn by the boy he had recently met. Then, another image, more heart-wrenching than any he had seen until that moment. Will’s body was stretched out on the ground, wrapped in a nakedness that was too frail to be revealed and too intimate to be examined. As he rushed towards him, tears coursed down the furrows in his cheeks. He listened for a heart-beat, felt for a pulse on the ice-cold wrist, but couldn’t find one.
“Will! Please, Will! Don’t leave me!”
A thick fog shrouded his thoughts and a feeling of utter despair swept through his body. He wanted to die. He couldn’t imagine a more unexpected turn of events. He felt like a spectator who had been cheated by being sold the ticket of hope, and shown instead the film of resignation. He began to shake and an irrepressible urge to scream welled up inside him, but his voice was stifled by a lump in his throat so big it felt as if it were suffocating him. He heard voices in his head that muddied his mind, and lucid thought gradually faded away. He swung around slowly, looking for help he wouldn’t find, a word of comfort he wouldn’t receive. All he could hear were indistinct, wailing voices he couldn’t put a face to. He circled round a few times in an attempt to find a way out of the labyrinth his mind had trapped him in. He fell down heavily, bumping his face on the slippery ground, and his sight misted over. He tried to get up, but was overcome by the pain that seemed to have found a home in that spot. The voices in his head multiplied, swamping any attempt to move his body, battered as it was by emotions so devastating that a human body can barely absorb them.
“Norman!”
He heard his name echoing from a direction he struggled to locate.
“Norman! Wake up!”
He tried to obey the voice, so clear and unmistakably gentle, but panic hindered his movements.
“Norman! Norman!”
The fog in his mind began to lift. He could vaguely see his mother holding Will’s hand and his father smiling, pointing the way out of the pain. But the path was blocked by the man he should have tied up, and beside him was Luc, grinning at the image in the mirror he was holding, the image of himself ranting about being old, while Dustin sat opposite him, sucking his life out through a straw stuck in his heart.
“Norman! Wake up! Norman!”
Suddenly, everyone started to burn in the rays of a light so bright it was impossible to look at or extinguish. He lifted his hand to ward it off, until he saw in that light the hope he had always dreamed of finding. In the midst of all that desperation, he couldn’t help but notice that love was saving him. Deep down, he had probably never doubted it, not even for one second.