Fiorile AKA Wild Flower Page #5

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Even beating them up won't do.

Too bad for them. Let's go.

Lieutenant, if we can save one,

I would give it a try.

I know a way to recognize

amid those scoundrels

who Benedetti is.

And how?

Get up! Come on, get up!

Are they really going to kill us?

Turn around!

Come on, turn!

This is outrageous.

It is outrageous.

They are really killing us.

It is outrageous.

Your hands.

Show me your hands.

Yes, your hands.

Like that.

Your hands.

Your hands.

Your hands.

Your hands.

The fifth on the right!

Out!

Hey, Massimo Benedetti, come here!

- Out of the way!

- No!

Hey, my name is Gino Gabrielli.

When the war is over,

don't forget about me, all right?

Come on! Aren't you happy?

I am.

Go, Benedetti.

- Come on! Let's go! Let's go!

- And be thankful for your name.

You are Massimo Benedetti.

You are Massimo Benedetti.

I know you, young man.

I know you.

But you, they didn't kill you,

Benedetti!

They didn't kill you!

Benedetti, they didn't kill you!

They didn't kill you!

For many days, Massimo

wandered about the countryside.

When he appeared again,

the war was over.

But he had changed.

He decided to get rid of his lands,

leaving them in the hands

of some incompetent administrators

or rascals, I don't know.

He shut himself up in a clinic.

He thought he had gone insane.

But was he insane?

No.

He was just filled with sorrow.

And your mom?

Our grandma?

Your grandmother

went from prison to prison.

She was brought to Nantes

and died under the bombs

just a few days

after having given birth to your dad.

But your grandfather

was fixated on the gold's curse.

And he decided that Luigi

was to live away from him.

That's why I grew up

and studied in France.

And your grandpa,

since he came out of the madhouse,

has been living there,

in the house of Corrado and Fiorile.

But what does he do for a living?

He lives off the last gold coins left.

The people believe that

he keeps them hidden somewhere.

Really?

No.

He lives off what the field gives him,

what he grows.

But look at your grandfather.

Isn't he beautiful?

Dad, we came to see you.

Why did you bring them here?

You ought not to.

Say hello to Grandpa.

Dad, I hope you don't still believe

in that curse nonsense.

They are eight and nine years old.

You don't even know them.

Corrado.

Elisabetta.

Go on, introduce yourselves.

Tell him your names.

Emilio.

I recognize you.

Simona.

Yes, it's you.

You shouldn't have brought

them here.

My friend, you have been sick.

And you need us.

My friend.

Your accent is so sweet.

You are not capable of fooling me.

How is your heart, Dad?

The ants have been leaving me alone

for a few days now.

What do you mean, "the ants"?

Yes.

At every attack, when I open my hand,

there are ants crawling up my arm,

until they reach my heart.

Go in and use the rooms

at the very back.

I want to find a table

that has been set.

I am going to the woods.

I'll be back in a short while.

This cutlery is not matching.

This is nice.

Is it gold?

No. It must be brass.

'Yellow, glittering, precious gold.

This yellow slave

will sew and tear every faith.

It will bless the cursed one.

And it will make one worship

the livid leprosy."

- Up there! There's Jean!

- Stupid, what are you talking about?

I saw him! It's Jean!

Emilio!

No.

It's not Jean.

Can't you see?

It is Jean's puppet.

It's cloth.

Don't be scared.

I'm not scared.

So here you two are.

Come on, let's go eat.

- Wait. Behave yourself.

- But I'm hungry.

To apologize for my rude welcoming,

I prepared these.

I picked them up in the woods,

just for you.

I can't eat them.

The doctor prohibited it.

Oh, God, the mushrooms.

Oh, my God.

Dad, they are beautiful.

So, what are you waiting for?

Come on, eat.

- Honestly, I'm not hungry.

- Me neither.

All right.

We'll eat them all, then.

Better for us.

Mom, I'm sleepy.

Can you take me to bed?

Later. Let's eat now.

Mom, no!

Don't eat them.

I can see that you know everything.

Legends spread all over the world.

And you, you poor kids,

you pay for it.

Look, would you be more comfortable

if I ate some, too?

Anyway, you are right.

Legends are not legends.

Legends are true.

It's my fault, Dad.

I told them all those old stories,

and I scared them.

I was wrong.

Yes. That's too bad.

I should have told them

that in this legend, the gold has won.

But we also told them about Jean.

Jean?

He ended up in the attic.

Dead and buried.

Listen, Dad.

You can't stay in this house

on your own anymore.

You have been sick.

We...

We were thinking that you could

come live with us in Paris.

And we can come here

in the summer.

What do you think?

Maybe we could renovate everything.

We could put a swimming pool

outside for the kids.

Tomorrow morning

I want you to leave.

I don't want to see those two

in this house anymore.

You can't sleep, either?

I don't know.

The countryside.

And the kids in this house.

And your dad up there.

Actually, I feel good here.

I wonder.

Maybe it's because this is home.

Little ant, little ant

In the evening and in the morning

I can't remember it.

How did it go?

Only you are close to me.

We can go now.

Poor Jean.

The hat, look under the hat.

Maybe he's got an empty head.

Inside.

No, he hasn't got an empty head.

It's you.

It's made of wood inside.

Then the last gold coins

must be in here, of course.

Inside here.

Take that!

The hat!

I must be really sick, then.

Hold it. Don't move.

He's crazy.

You are making me fall down.

If he finds us, he'll kill us.

No.

I am not raving.

You said something.

I know what you want to tell me.

You don't say it

because you are a good guy.

But you want to blame me

for the things

that I said tonight at dinner.

I had buried you.

But you came back.

How could I doubt it?

Forgive me.

How could I forget the words

that you, gentle warrior,

were able to find

for the woman you loved

and that you called Fiorile?

No, I haven't forgotten them.

It's just that I had no one

to tell them to.

I feel sad for you, too, Jean.

You had come from so far away

to throw the seeds of a big plant.

But you threw it away

in a poor earthenware vase.

Small.

Like I am.

The roots have grown,

they got entangled...

...and the vase has shattered.

Oh, Jean! Jean!

Oh, Jean!

Enough!

Enough!

Let's go away!

Let's go away!

If it's painful for you,

let's not sell the house.

Let's just leave it there, empty.

I don't want to ever go back there.

If they want to when they are adults,

they will sell it.

They're quiet.

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