Hovering Over the Water Page #2

and shot several times.

Issam Sartawi

fell immediatly to the ground...

They started work very early,

the untiring crime workers.

It's horrible to die

on an empty stomach.

Those who are sentenced to death

know it well:

a coffee and a cigarette.

Human life, after all,

conforming to small vices...

I must take you to a hospital.

The wound looks bad

and ought to be disinfected.

I'm coming, I'm coming...

Just a second.

I drew the bolt because I'm afraid

of being here alone.

If you want, you may leave earlier,

senhora Amelia. I don't need you.

Do you now when the ladies and the

children will come back from the sea?

I suppose tomorrow or the day after...

I don't know for sure.

The house is as clean as can be

and if you really can do

without my help,

I might use the occasion

for going to the doctor.

Not that I need it,

thank God I never did.

It's my son who's drinking heavily

and they told me to take him

to a doctor for the brain.

I'm sorry to know that.

If I can help you in some way,

please don't hesitate to ask.

God bless you, my lady.

Oh! It's you.

You scared me...

I called time and again

and nobody answered.

Hello, Antoine.

Sara is not here.

She isn't?

On second thoughts,

I'm really almost relieved

not to have found her.

With Sara

I always get the feeling

I'm one too many.

Or not too short.

Sometimes I fell

like I never calling on her again...

Do you remember the time

she sent me a telegram

asking me to join her in Florence?

"I love you. Come."

No, no...

"Come. I love you."

At first,

I thought it was a joke.

It couldn't be.

After all, Sara is not in the habit

of joking with that sort of things...

I didn't even

have the time to change.

When I arrived in Florence

it was bitter cold

and it rained cats and dogs.

I rang the bell at her place,

drenched to the bones and shivering.

She looked at me from head to foot.

I was immediately aware

that she was furious.

She looked lovely thus.

I only wished the earth

would swallow me on the spot

but the only thing I did

was to take the telegram

out of the pocket

and show it to her.

She smiled

and said:
"Ah!"

"I can offer you

a grappa and a towel."

"I'm sorry but I worked late

and I'm going to resume sleeping."

"We'll meet for lunch

at the Piazza della Signoria,"

"if you want."

She gave the name of a cafe,

the Rivoire,

and turned her back on me.

She was willing to marry you.

But what made her

change her mind?

What makes people change their minds

if they ever do change them?

Who knows?

If there had been another man...

There have been other man...

All right,

but I don't believe she loved them.

I don't believe she loved me.

Sara loved only one man:

Virglio, her brother.

It's not by chance

he was the only guy

I was truly jealous of.

Also of you, in a way.

Of me?

It was dreadful

when we went to Arezzo

to look at Piero della Francesca,

the Leggenda della Uera Croce.

Which cross?

I constantly asked myself.

Mine or Piero della Francesca's?

For both of you

it was as if I didn't even exist.

After a while

I couldn't see clearly any longer.

Virglio irrupted

from every recess of the frescoes

as a more and more intense

and bright volume.

I could never stand that...

...Piero della Francesca.

You're being unfair.

I was very much in love

with Virglio

and everything spun around us...

I'm jealous of everything,

that's the truth.

I don't know.

After all...

a guy tries to find,

by fair means or foul,

is excuses for his mistakes.

It might be a mistake

to think one failed

because things don't happen

as one has desired.

Maybe the blame we insist

on laying upon ourselves

should simply be laid on the rain.

On the rain?

Maybe your story

would have had another outcome

if, on that very day,

it hadn't rained in Florence.

Do you believe such nonsense?

What has the rain

got to do with our story?

Probably nothing but let me believe

that kind of nonsense.

It's undeniable

that Sara grew up

worshipping her heroe,

Virglio.

It took me some time to grasp that.

Strangely enough,

the jealousy only came up later.

More or less about the time

Maria was born,

but mothers are very powerful.

But that's another story.

What one must keep in mind

is that Sara's love for Virglio,

let's call it so,

was fully returned.

She knew herself loved by God.

That fervour filled her heart

and the men who approached her

got scared,

trembled with fear.

Instead of offering her their human

love they turned into rivals of God.

It's stupid to be jealous of God.

When you left Florence,

Sara cried her eyes out.

Maybe a drinking bout

helped her get over it,

or maybe not.

There's nothing we can do now,

is there?

No.

There's nothing one can do now.

Okay.

Tell her...

I came by

and will do so again

one of these days,

as usual.

Do you want me

to drop you somewhere?

We aren't going the same way.

Be careful. I hope you won't

come across Sartawi's killer.

If I'll come across him

I'll tell him that I've got a friend

who was an anti-fascist

and has severely criticized

the security system set up

by the Portuguese authorities;

or I'll simply say

that he commited

a disgustingly coward crime,

certainly in the pay of the Sionists.

Did I say it right?

You're not far from the truth

but one can add

a more personal touch

to ready-made sentences.

Anyway, you probably

won't come across him.

I suppose he has already

been caught.

How silly of me. I always forget

to switch off the headlights.

Good evening.

Documents, please...

Please, show me that bag.

Open it.

This one here?

Take it out.

The keys to the trunk,

please.

Here you go.

Your documents.

Thank you.

You may go on.

Good night.

The trousers are somewhat short.

No, I'm italian.

From Alta Valle del Tevere.

Borgo Sansepolcro,

provincia di Arezzo,

Toscania.

Excuse me...

Do you know where I can find

the Divine Comedy at this late hour?

Arriving at Portimo

you'll see a bridge.

You don't cross it.

You turn immediately to the right.

You drive some hundred yards

and you'll come upon a confectionery.

The Dom Rodrigos are good,

specially if you've ordered them.

Right beside it,

is a bookshop

where you'll be able

to find the Divine Comedy.

Up to now, we weren't instructed

to put translators into jail

and it's a pity.

I've got a son called Dante.

Mine is called Roberto

but he's still too young

to read Dante.

- Have a nice trip.

- Thank you. Good night.

- Enjoy your reading.

- Thank you.

Does it hurt?

Maria is the eldest.

Roberto, the youngest,

wails like a cat!

There!

It's done.

Let me see...

It looks great!

But very seldom,

once every century.

Excuse me.

But you're dead!

Exuberant sudden explosions

of pure colored matter.

This one is the king of fishes

that Carlos caught.

It's not the king of fishes.

The king of fishes is the shark.

This is the king of fishes.

This is aunt Rosa

on the bottom of the sea.

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