Read Online The Light in the Ruins by Chris Bohjalian - Free Book Online

she flew it over the soldiers guarding the Sicilian coast. She circled them once, twice. Then, with absolutely no warning, she had the plane swoop down upon the men, attacking them, trying to replicate the sound of a machine gun with her mouth. And Massimo, much to Cristina’s surprise, played along: he added to the noise the sound of explosions, and then, with the back of his hand, he wiped his soldiers into the sea.

    The streetlamps still burned in Florence because no one believed the Allies would dare bomb the city. There were rumors, however, that any night now the lights would be dimmed and there would be a curfew. Just in case. But events had not yet become that dire. And so from the conference room window in the museum, Vittore could see the mongrel dog and the little boy who was trying to convince it to drink some water. The child had a small bowl made of tin, but the dog, so thin and wobbly that Vittore was shocked it could stand, didn’t seem interested. Still, it was easier for Vittore to watch the boy and the dog than to make eye contact with Lorenzetti. He was furious with the major and felt betrayed. It wasn’t merely that Lorenzetti and Decher had gone to the Villa Chimera that afternoon, as disturbing as that notion was; it was the fact that they had gone without telling him. He didn’t like the idea that a Blackshirt and a Nazi had been around his family, and he was frustrated that he hadn’t been able to warn his parents that they were coming. Nor did he approve of the pair wandering throughthe Etruscan tombs on the property. Picking at the artwork. A man like Decher was oblivious to the fragility of the remains on the walls.
    “What are the plans for those tombs after the war?” Decher was asking, and Vittore realized that the colonel was speaking to him. He turned away from the boy and the dog. It was after ten and the meeting had begun to wind down. There were seven of them at the table, three Germans—including that young pup with the prosthetic foot—and four Italians. He’d never noticed it before, but Decher looked a bit like his adjutant. He was twelve years older than Strekker, but still the two could pass for siblings.
    “My family has already agreed to turn it over to the government,” Vittore answered. “It needs to be cared for. Preserved. And people will want to see it.”
    Decher smiled glibly. “You’re going to allow strangers to traipse across your land? Become an attraction for travelers? I can’t imagine your sister-in-law would be especially accommodating. I don’t suppose you would have been pleased today if you’d known ahead of time that Major Lorenzetti and I were going to drop by your estate.”
    “The access wouldn’t have to interfere with my family’s life or the business of the farm,” he said calmly, essentially ignoring the tenor of the colonel’s remarks.
    “Besides, there won’t ever be droves of tourists,” said Lorenzetti. “It’s a small site, and people don’t flock to Monte Volta. Expect students and archeologists. And the Villa Chimera isn’t exactly the most accessible of venues. I thought I was going to vomit on the road up to the estate.”
    “And the sarcophagi and vases are gone,” Vittore added. “The alabastron, the amphora, the cups. The plates. The pieces of the deity’s head. They’re all at the museum.”
    “I know an amphora is a kind of pot,” said Decher. “But what is an alabastron?”
    “A sort of flask,” Vittore answered. “They were used for oilsand unguents and perfumes. Often, as you might expect, they were made of alabaster.”
    Decher seemed to think about this. “I want to see them—the artifacts.”
    Lorenzetti shrugged. “Why not? We can drive to Arezzo tomorrow. It’s not like there’s a war going on.”
    “Why aren’t they at the archeological museum here in Florence?”
    Patiently, as if speaking to a child, the major said, “I told you in the car this afternoon. Most of the artifacts from