Scent of coffee grounds

Bam bam bam. A light, then nothing. Quick pics flow like a film, quick flashes now slowing down. Here we are, me and Roby. I've grazed my knee, because he was holding me and he let me slip out of his arms. I'm afraid of blood, but I don't want to cry because I don't want to give him this satisfaction. «It hurts?» «YES!!» «Sorry, didn't mean to…» «You're a jerk, as usual. I won't play with you ever again.» And then I cuddle up, pretending to hurt more than I actually do. He stands up and goes to the kitchen, he's gone for a while. When he comes back, he's got two coffee cups, even if mama doesn't want us to drink it. «I put four sugars in yours, shall we make peace?» I don't answer, take my cup and mix the sugar. He's fooling around, gargles and make me laugh. «Still mad?» «Little less now.» «So you can smell the scent?» «What scent?» «That scent you smell after you drank a cup of coffee when you're happy. Can you smell it?» «You're right, I can smell something. I think it's the scent of coffee grounds.» «Oh, I thought it was the cup. But you're the one to know such stuff, so I trust you. It's the scent of coffee grounds.» Pics flowing again, running fast. Here they slow down again. Me and Roby again, but older. I'm crying after I just broke up. «Hussshhhhhh c'mon, stop it huuuushhhhhhh!!» He could never stand my tears, he's afraid of seeing me cry. «It's not worth it, c'mon! He was such an asshole!! He can't force you to do something you don't want to! If you're meant to be, you will meet him again, if not you'll find a thousand other guys, much better than him!! Huuusssshhhh stop it, c'mon stand up and follow me.» He draws me out to the balcony where we hang our laundry out to dry. We can see all the roofs from there, time's close to sunset. «Do you think it's worth to cry?? Look at this sight, look at the colors of the clouds! This is worth crying for, but with happiness!!» I stopped crying, but I don't give a damn about the clouds. «Thanks.» I smile. «Fine, that's a start. If you stop fuckin' sulk, then, you can also find a new Brad Pitt.» I push him in play and laugh, he puts his hand on my shoulder and we go back inside.

Bam bam bam. I open my eyes, where am I? Blue light Oh My God I can't breathe aaahhhh aaahhhh calm down calm down it's just an oxygen mask. I take a deep breath, where am I? IV everywhere, am I at the hospital? I'm passing out, I close my eyes. Pics flowing again, as if I'm watching a movie. Me and Roby again, we're children again, we're puffing up our cheeks. We're Bubboo and Bubbee, we must keep talking like this until one of us laughs. He's doing everything he can to make me laugh, and finally he manages to. He's happy, but not because he won, just because I'm laughing. Pics flowing again, memories shoal and mix together. Here I am, at Roby's door. Ding-dong. «Heeeyyy dumby, how come you're here??» «Hi.. well… I dropped by to give you the invitation, you know... I'm marrying Manuel.» «Oh. Oh, OK. But, are you sure? Come on in, let's talk about it.» «Oh no, he's waiting in the car, I'm on a rush... sorry.» He looks down at the invitation. «Sorry for what? The thing is, I don't know if you would still be sorry, if you were happy. And if you would miss that sparkle in your eyes. But if you say you're happy, then I believe you, you know I trust you.» «And I trust you.» I've got a lump in my throat, I don't want him to frown at me. «Don't turn away from me.» «Heeeyyyy are you nuts?? How could Bubboo turn away from Bubbee??» And he puffs up his cheeks, like when we were children. I laugh, and he's relieved to see me laugh as I used to. «But if you have any problems, you know I'm here, right?» I hold him tight, because I'm afraid we will end up growing away anyway.

White lights, distant voices. «Doctor, the girl is waking up.» One light in one eye, then in the other one. «Giovanna, can you hear me?» My mouth is furred, I can't answer. «Sedate her, she's still weak». It's dark again, and the pics are flowing again. Me and Roby walking on the beach after it rained. He lifts some wet sand with his umbrella and I get dirty. I'm about to get mad at him when he throws me to the ground with a wrestler's move, we laugh and fight. Back at the bungalow, mama gets really mad. «C'mon mama, it's my fault 'cause I made her kinda tumbling down!!» I laugh again. Pics flowing, once again. We're in his car, I'm crying while Roby's driving. «I don't wanna start with "I warned you", so let me just say he's the biggest jackass on Earth. And stop looking at that fucking mobile or I'll throw it away!! He's not gonna call you, and if he does, he will talk to ME! When will you begin to understand how much you deserve thanks to the wonderful person you are and all you give to other people??» «Sure, what I give besides ballbusting? Evidently, I wasn't enough for him.» «YEAH, SURE!! And if that was true, he's justified in finding another woman? Are you kidding??! If I weren't driving I would wrestle with you like we used to, just to see if I can re-activate some cells in that brain of yours!! And do you really want to know what you give to other people? Look at what I found in my stuff, the other day, read something that's worth crying for, c'mon!» He takes a piece of paper out of his pocket, it's old and yellow. At the top, there's a date written by a child. «Hey, what the fuck is he doing?? WWWOOOHHHAAA!!»

Bam bam bam. I wake up, I'm still numb but my head is clear. A nurse is changing the IV. «Good morning Giovanna, how do you feel?» «Confused… weak» «You had a bad accident, it's normal.» «Roby… Roberto, my brother, where is he?? How is he?» «You must thank him, if he hadn't had that quick reaction... he sheered on his side, to avoid you being hurt. He saved your life. He's in a different ward.» «Can I see him? I want to see him.» «Maybe tomorrow, right now he's still too weak.» She goes away. I start looking around, bringing the room into focus. I see my mobile on the bedside table, and that piece of paper. I must have had it in my hands. I take it and read the first lines:

“March 10th 1989. That is the day I turn eight.

Today I'm writing the eight nine or maybe ten stuff I more like, so when I read this in four or maybe five years I can see what I like still and what not. I begin from the less good to the best good.

10.Playing Pang on the Amiga, cos I always win at Pang and sometimes at golden axe too.

09.The recess at school, so I can run and play and I can not study for a while.

08.When we sit around the table at Christmas and New Years Eve all together and we laugh a lot and we eat what Auntie makes and then we count sixty fiftyfive and so on, cos now I can cos I'm older but some time ago I couldn't cos I was too young and I slept a lot earlier.

07.The scent of burned paper and wood when papa cooks barbecue and we collect pine needles. Then papa always gets sick and that's not good, but before it is.

06.The scent of grass when it rains or maybe not, the scent of everything when it's not raining anymore and everybody go around in tracksuit with the umbrella and then you can see the rain bowl too.

05.When we go to the beach together, cos we sing in the car and we laugh all the time but then my sister gets sick so we must be quiet but I still like it.

04.When my mom hugs me tight and I don't know that she wants to hug me, so I like it anyway no I like it even more.”

A smile fills my mouth, tears fill my eyes, I close the paper and decide to go on reading it later, with Roby. He's so right, there are many things worth crying for. Finally they let me see him. Doctors have dark, crusty faces, I don't like them. They stop me in the hallway.

«Hi.»

«Hi.»

«Miss D., maybe you should wait a little while. It's not a good show.»

«I don't care, I wanna see Roby. How is he?»

«Oh… he's not well, Miss D.»

«What do you mean? How long will he have to stay here?»

«Well… he suffered some traumas and brain damages which led to an oedema… he's in coma, Miss D.»

«Coma? But he will pull through. He must pull through.»

«We don't have big hopes, honestly. I'm sorry but... well, if he doesn't react in the next six hours, we will have to declare his brain death. I'm really sorry Miss D., honestly.» Silence.

«Mrs.»

«Sorry?»

«You keep calling me "Miss" even though I'm married. Mrs.»

«Oh… sorry. Seriously, you'd better choose another moment to see your brother.»

«No. If you're telling the truth, this could be my last chance to see him.»

«It's up to you then, ma'm. Let me take you to the room.»

The room is dark, Roby's got IV everywhere. His head is all wrapped, his legs too. Oh My God brother, what happened? I get closer and hold his hand. «Hi, it's me.» Beep beep beep. «C'mon, stop pretending, you won. Wake up.» Beep beep beep. I can feel a lead weight on my stomach. It's called helplessness. I'm looking at the only man –or maybe the only person- who never deceived me, and gave me all he had without asking anything back. And I'm helpless. And I can't even tell him, how special he is. How long I've been looking for someone like him, someone who could see in me all the good things he saw. I can't stop staring at that bandage around his head... how much did it hurt??! Why?? To save me, once more. To save my life and save me from my life, at the same time. To make me realize how many walls I built along the years. Walls around myself, to prevent me from getting at my heart and hurt myself. Walls against other people, to prevent them from getting at my heart and destroy me. Walls against the whole world, afraid of I don't know what, but it's something that could kill me if it'd only got closer. Maybe it's fear of happiness. Roby never built any walls. Every time he was slapped, he smiled back. And every time he was let down, he chose to trust again. Like he did with me. I let him down all my life. And yet he made me feel the most important person in the world. What's so special in me, I don't know. I can't even wake you up. I keep crying. Oh yeah, the list. I take the paper, start reading it and remembering with him. Nothing. Beep beep beep. There's only half an hour left, I've been here for five hours and a half. I go on reading, there are three items left.

“03.The sun set when there are a lot of clouds in the sky, and they color orange and pink and then birds fly into them and there's the light wind that ruffles my hair.

02.The scent of coffee grounds, cos then you are very happy if you smell it, and you love very very much that who's with you. When my sister is there I always smell it. Only if I drink coffee, that is.”

Oh, yeah. It's been a long time since I thought about that. It's been a long time since I last smelled it. I take a glimpse to the last line, and everything collapses. The world as I considered it until now, the idea of being forced to fight for something different from what I already have. I look around and discover a new world, that is the same world but now I'm able to see it. And I understand that my life is stronger than my efforts to ruin it. And I finally understand that there are many things worth crying for, but many more things worth laughing for. Once again, Roby gave me joy, gave me my life back.

“01.My sister's smile, cos it colors everything and it seems that there's a light so strong that you must close your eyes, even if it's raining outside. And she always smiles even if I say silly silly stuff, but she smiles cos she's nice. Here they are. This are the stuff I more like. One day I say them to my sister, so she can say hers. Not today cos she's mad, and I want to make her laugh. So then she's happy.”

Beep beep beep. I can't hold back the tears anymore. I stop. I read the list all over again. Beep beep beep. A doctor walks in. «Ma'am… you should walk out the room.»

«No.»

«Please, ma'am, we must unplug the machines.»

«Unplug them, but I'm staying here. And bring me a coffee, with lots of sugar.»

«But ma'am…» He's persuaded by my glance. When the nurse comes in bringing my coffee, I slowly mix it. I look at Roby, and I can't see anything else. I drink my coffee as we used to. Beep beep beep. Beep beep. Then nothing. His face softens, he looks as if he's ready to stick out his tongue and make me laugh. Thus I laugh, laugh, laugh and everybody thinks I'm crazy but I can't see them nor hear them. Out of the windows there's one of our sunsets, full of clouds in the sky. And I bet you can smell wet grass, rain and burnt wood in the air. But I can smell only one thing, and put my lips on Roby's 'cause I'm sure he can smell it too. It's that scent, again. The scent of coffee grounds.

Who knows (taste of regret)

Memories are treacherous: you're sure that they're elaborated, rationalized and stored in the back of your mind to explain all your life's events… and then, little removed details suddenly come to light, awaken by the smallest feeling. And so you understand, in that short instant, the reasons of many of your behaviours. Thus, when my seven-year-old daughter insists on making me taste that so-called "strawberry milk", I'm not expecting what's about to happen. It happens that the so-called milk tastes like strawberry chewing-gum. So what?! So much, instead. 'Cause that's the same taste of my first kiss, so long ago. I remembered having thought two things: "Tastes like strawberry" and "that's it?!" But then that beautiful sensation came back to my mind, for a short instant. Having the whole world at my feet. Having all that I wanted. My mind empty, no thoughts. Pure happiness. It lasted just a moment, then and now. And since that day -that evening, I mean- I never dreamed of flying anymore. My analyst told me it's because I'm not able to let myself go. Of course. The bruises of the crash, when you fall, remain, they don't heal. It's called "growing up".
Then there was my first time. My first time tasted like tears. Not because of the pain –not only that, at least- but because it represented freedom. Freedom from taboos, from concerns... concerns of what?! After all these years I can't recall it, but sometimes that taste of freedom comes back to my mind, oh yes.

And then so much water flowed, under the bridges. Bridges of life, death, pain and joy. And then he crossed the bridge. He seemed so far from me that I must have been on a boat. Our affair was a matter of distance and lack, more than normality. That normality which -who knows- could have destroyed us. Our desire was fed by the impossibility of living it -or, who knows, it could have been real love. And after all, "real" depends on those who live it. And we both lived it, but each one in his corner, afraid of the possibility that the whole world could have put us to the test and asked us a reason for being us, and not simply "me" and "you". I insisted on saying that a dream can change the whole world's mind, and persuade it. When you're young you're sooo ingenuous, sometimes. But then maybe -who knows- if you try, maybe the world is ready to be changed by a dream. And then maybe -who knows- we would have fallen upon that normality that scared us so much. All that I know is that, when I hugged him, in that fake friendship's farewell in which each one really wished the other one to find a way that would finally separate us... well, I tasted tears once again. But they didn't taste like freedom, this time. They tasted sour, they were talking about regret. And if I think of us now, and despite everything I look at my normality, that doesn't scare me anymore, since I'm far from him... I can still taste that flavour in my mouth.
And I think, who knows?

No smoking

Every time I used to leave or come back, the "no smoking" writing would welcome me. It was written in enormous letter over the buildings sorrounding the railway station, and it had become the symbol of every trip, ever since. Now that I was coming back to the place I used to call my home, that writing had disappeared.. of course, since the smoking ban was now law, there was no need for it to be written everywhere. The station though was still the same, so grey, smelling bad and with all those faces that here are called "sooo shady" and instead, there where I consider to be my home now, are just faces and nothing else. I was setting foot in Italy for a short weekend, right on the threshold of my endurance to my mother's care, just for a special occasion: ten years from our graduation, to see how much we've grown old and what's happened to That who's not Her boyfriend anymore. The places that I used to know have changed, but not so much. The streets have still holes in the asphalt, people and houses are still asking themselves if we're a village, outskirts or a little town. The air smells like smog. But the date with our past is "downtown", so at least it's troubling for everybody - and that's fair. Our funny chap mate arranged the whole thing, reserving a front-lagoon pizzeria to have the comfort of the landscape, at least. "Downtown" you can smell saltiness, humidity, sewer.. same as always, but in the evening you smell saltiness more than anything, so you feel better and almost think you're on holiday. So here we are, twenty adults who don't know what to do with this meeting, except for buzzing about it the next day, with the only close friend left frome those years. There's the copycat, the never-studying one to whom everybody should always pass the tests but-it's-really-not-fair-'cause-this-is-my-effort-and-you're-taking-advantage-of-it, there's the self-confindent girl damn-English-teacher-wasted-my-high-school-years-but-I-still-have-a-fucking-degree, there's the poser girl from-my-loft-I-can-see-the-London-Eye.. guess what, it's enough to say that you live in London, and you MUST see the london Eye, that big. «Instead I live in Lausanne, and from my loft I can see the lake». It's a joke –of course you can see the lake, you can see it from every house in Lausanne- but He's the only one to get it. Yeah. Of course. He saw it, “the loft”. He was supposed to live with me, in the loft. It was not a must, but it was a plan. At least my plan. Slightly before he planned to tell me "If you love me, stay here". «How are you?» Where do I start from? I'm just like that. I'm looking for something that may not even exist, I'm blaming other people for that happiness that I can't find in what's already there, and that's so much. «I'm fine, and you?» Let me tell you that you look like one whose eyes are full of melancholy and regret. But it could be just my sensation. «Not bad, you know.. the same, you know.» Yeah, the "same" that we used to share day and night, and seemed so worth to me. The same that turned out to be the same, nothing else. So true, the magic vanishes. He's a little fatter, turned a little whiter, he's a little normalized. He's not the man I wanted to marry anymore, I can't recall what I thought was so special about him. Except for the love he felt for me. «How's your job, how do you feel living in Switzerland?» You mean, except for those two lonely months spent crying? And the remaining time healing the wounds, to finally find out that I'm stronger by myself? And those pathetic attempts to hear each other? As if we could really remain friends, after all? «I was sorry not to hear from you again» «I think it was better like that» «Yeah, maybe you're right» Still don't have the guts, uh, even after all those years? I don't know what I'm looking for, but it's certainly not here, tonight. Not in his eyes, not in twenty faces that play no role in my life. And I even ate a better pizza in Lausanne. We stand up, a quick walk by the lagoon, then we greet each other. «Well, take care. Maybe we could hear each other, someday.» Yes, of course. Guaranteed. I walk away, breathe deep the air of what used to be my home and I used to think was my whole world. There was a time when I thought I could stop. Then I understood that maybe those who wanted to love me should have followed me - or wait for me, like John Donne's compass. To go back I get on a plane, to escape faster. I take my seat, fasten my seatbelt, watch the lagoon farther and farther away, I fly over the clouds and let myself be blinded by the sun. Beep. A warning has been switched on. It shows a cigarette with a red cross over it. No smoking. Welcome back home.