Read Online In a Heartbeat by Sandrone Dazieri - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sandrone Dazieri
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a clutch that wasn’t there.
I unlocked the doors and got in.
Monica stood there stiffly on the sidewalk.
I leaned over and opened the passenger door.
‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m not coming.’
‘What’s wrong now?’
‘What’s wrong? What the hell is wrong? ’ She sniffed a few times, then burst into tears and ran away.
I ran after her.
‘Please, let’s not do this again, not in public.’
A taxi passed, and Monica flagged it down.
‘C’mon, Monica.’
Monica opened the door, but I closed it.
The cab driver got out. He was about two metres tall.
‘Is there a problem, Signorina? Is this man giving you any trouble?’
‘Yes,’ Monica said.
The cab driver came around the car and stood in front of me.
‘So, you like bothering women?’
‘She’s my girlfriend, and we’re having an argument. Monica, say something.’
‘I don’t know this man.’
The cab driver pushed me away and reopened the car door.
‘If you don’t leave I’ll call the police.’
‘Monica … ’
The taxi driver gave me another push and opened the door. ‘Signorina, please get in.’
Monica sat in the back.
‘You can’t leave me like this. C’mon baby, let’s talk.’
Monica closed the door. I tried to get her attention through the window, but she ignored me, cold as ice. The taxi sped away. I got back into the beast and went home.
The gate of my building opened with a remote control not much different from the ones from my time, a little smaller maybe. I went down the ramp, thinking about smashing myself into the wall. How long would it take for them to come and get me? One day, maybe two days or a week, and then I’d be in jail for life without even knowing if I really deserved it or not.
I parked the car in my garage that also contained a bicycle with flat tyres. Then I tried to remember the way back to my apartment. I noticed a strange odour. After a few seconds, it came to me … chlorine. It came from a flight of stairs that led to another level under the garage. I went down until I came to a closed metal door. The sign read: ‘ Use of the pool is reserved for residents between 9am and 9pm. ’
It was after eleven; damn. I looked at the lock. Yale. Not too difficult. I went back to my garage and rummaged through the toolbox. All I needed was some wire and a thin nail. It took less than a minute to pick it. It’s always like that. You either open it in a flash, or you have to go and get a crowbar.
It was dark inside, but I found the light switch. The ceiling lights flickered on. White marble steps, a few showers and a pool about half the size of an Olympic one. More signs. Use of the pool is reserved for residents only. Swimming caps are mandatory. Showers are obligatory before using the swimming pool. Topless swimming is prohibited.
What the hell!
I took off my clothes and jumped in.
Fantastic! I always loved to swim. I used to go to a public pool near the San Siro Stadium. It was always full in August but there were rarely any cops around so you could roll a joint on the lawn without anyone coming to bother you. Who knows whether it was still there or had become another construction site?
I slowly swam a few laps, trying to steady my breath. My body reacted well and my movements were fluid. Then I swam a few more laps freestyle, accelerating. At every stroke, I seemed to leave everything behind me. Trafficante, the Ad Exec, Spillo, the mental hospital, and the world where everything went wrong.
I began to cry as I swam until I ran out of breath. I grabbed the ledge, panting, exhausted and reborn.
A metre away I saw a pair of legs. I recognised the feet that moved around above the water. I raised my gaze. Monica.
‘Hey,’ I said.
‘Hey. I knew that I’d find you here. You always come here when you’re stressed out. You love to swim at night.’
‘In some ways I haven’t changed.’
‘Did you find the key?’
‘No, I picked the lock. Do I have a key?’
‘You have a copy that
I unlocked the doors and got in.
Monica stood there stiffly on the sidewalk.
I leaned over and opened the passenger door.
‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m not coming.’
‘What’s wrong now?’
‘What’s wrong? What the hell is wrong? ’ She sniffed a few times, then burst into tears and ran away.
I ran after her.
‘Please, let’s not do this again, not in public.’
A taxi passed, and Monica flagged it down.
‘C’mon, Monica.’
Monica opened the door, but I closed it.
The cab driver got out. He was about two metres tall.
‘Is there a problem, Signorina? Is this man giving you any trouble?’
‘Yes,’ Monica said.
The cab driver came around the car and stood in front of me.
‘So, you like bothering women?’
‘She’s my girlfriend, and we’re having an argument. Monica, say something.’
‘I don’t know this man.’
The cab driver pushed me away and reopened the car door.
‘If you don’t leave I’ll call the police.’
‘Monica … ’
The taxi driver gave me another push and opened the door. ‘Signorina, please get in.’
Monica sat in the back.
‘You can’t leave me like this. C’mon baby, let’s talk.’
Monica closed the door. I tried to get her attention through the window, but she ignored me, cold as ice. The taxi sped away. I got back into the beast and went home.
The gate of my building opened with a remote control not much different from the ones from my time, a little smaller maybe. I went down the ramp, thinking about smashing myself into the wall. How long would it take for them to come and get me? One day, maybe two days or a week, and then I’d be in jail for life without even knowing if I really deserved it or not.
I parked the car in my garage that also contained a bicycle with flat tyres. Then I tried to remember the way back to my apartment. I noticed a strange odour. After a few seconds, it came to me … chlorine. It came from a flight of stairs that led to another level under the garage. I went down until I came to a closed metal door. The sign read: ‘ Use of the pool is reserved for residents between 9am and 9pm. ’
It was after eleven; damn. I looked at the lock. Yale. Not too difficult. I went back to my garage and rummaged through the toolbox. All I needed was some wire and a thin nail. It took less than a minute to pick it. It’s always like that. You either open it in a flash, or you have to go and get a crowbar.
It was dark inside, but I found the light switch. The ceiling lights flickered on. White marble steps, a few showers and a pool about half the size of an Olympic one. More signs. Use of the pool is reserved for residents only. Swimming caps are mandatory. Showers are obligatory before using the swimming pool. Topless swimming is prohibited.
What the hell!
I took off my clothes and jumped in.
Fantastic! I always loved to swim. I used to go to a public pool near the San Siro Stadium. It was always full in August but there were rarely any cops around so you could roll a joint on the lawn without anyone coming to bother you. Who knows whether it was still there or had become another construction site?
I slowly swam a few laps, trying to steady my breath. My body reacted well and my movements were fluid. Then I swam a few more laps freestyle, accelerating. At every stroke, I seemed to leave everything behind me. Trafficante, the Ad Exec, Spillo, the mental hospital, and the world where everything went wrong.
I began to cry as I swam until I ran out of breath. I grabbed the ledge, panting, exhausted and reborn.
A metre away I saw a pair of legs. I recognised the feet that moved around above the water. I raised my gaze. Monica.
‘Hey,’ I said.
‘Hey. I knew that I’d find you here. You always come here when you’re stressed out. You love to swim at night.’
‘In some ways I haven’t changed.’
‘Did you find the key?’
‘No, I picked the lock. Do I have a key?’
‘You have a copy that
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