Read Online The Oil Jar and Other Stories by Luigi Pirandello - Free Book Online Page B

intensified, like a,snarl. In his thick, curly hair, dark as a Moor’s, a wisp of straw glistened in the sunlight.
    The three men stopped for a while to stare at him, frightened and seemingly immobilized by the horror of that sight. The mule, sputtering, pawed the cobbled floor of the stable. Then Saro Tortorici went over to the dying man and called to him affectionately:
    â€œGiurlà, Giurlà, the doctor is here.”
    Neli went to tie the mule to the manger, near which, on the wall, was the seeming shadow of another animal, the trace of the donkey that resided in that stable and had impressed his outline on it by dint of rubbing up against it.
    Giurlannu Zarù, on being called again, stopped his heavy breathing; he tried to open his eyes, which were bloodshot, circled with black and full of fear; he opened his horrendous mouth and groaned, as if burning inside.
    â€œI’m dying!”
    â€œNo, no,” Saro quickly said to him in anguish. “The doctor is here. We brought him. See him?”
    â€œTake me to the village!” Zarù begged. “Oh, Mother!”
    â€œYes, look, we’ve got the mule here!” Saro at once replied.
    â€œBut I’ll even carry you there in my arms, Giurlà,” said Neli, running up and bending over him. “Don’t lose courage!”
    Giurlannu Zarù turned toward Neli’s voice, looked at him for a while with those fear-provoking eyes, then moved one arm and took hold of his belt.
    â€œYou, Handsome? You?”
    â€œYes, me; be brave! You’re crying? Don’t cry, Giurlà, don’t cry ... It’s nothing!”
    And he placed a hand on his chest, which was shaken by the sobs that were stuck in his throat. Choking, Zarù shook his head furiously, then raised one hand, took Neli by the nape of his neck and drew him toward himself:
    â€œWe were supposed to get married at the same time ... ”
    â€œAnd we will get married at the same time, have no doubts!” said Neli, removing his hand, which had clasped his neck tightly.
    Meanwhile the doctor was observing the dying man. It was clear: a case of anthrax.
    â€œTell me, do you recall being bitten by any insect?”
    â€œNo,” Zarù indicated by shaking his head.
    â€œInsect?” asked Saro.
    The doctor explained the disease to those two uneducated men as best he could. Some animal must have died of anthrax in that vicinity. Insects—who knows how many?—had lighted on the carcass, which had been thrown away into some ravine; one of them could have transmitted the disease to Zarù.
    While the doctor was speaking, Zarù had turned his face to the wall. No one knew it, but all the same death was still there; so small that it could hardly have been descried if anyone had intentionally looked for it. It was a fly, there on the wall, seemingly immobile; but, if you looked closely, now it was projecting its little mouth-tube and pumping, now it was rapidly cleaning its two thin front feet, rubbing them together, as if in contentment. Zarù caught sight of it and stared at it.
    A fly...
    It might have been that one or another one ... Who knows? Because now, hearing the doctor talk, he thought he remembered. Yes, the day before, when he had lain down there to sleep, waiting for his cousins to finish shelling Lopes’ almonds, a fly had bothered him terribly ... Could it be this one? He saw it take flight and followed its movements with his eyes. There! it had landed on Neli’s cheek. From his cheek, softly, softly, it was now moving, in a broken line, to his chin, right up to the razor scratch, and there it dug in, voraciously.
    Giurlannu Zarù kept looking at it for a while intently, with concentration. Then, through his catarrhal panting, he asked in a cavernous voice:
    â€œCould it be a fly?”
    â€œA fly? Why not?” the doctor replied.
    Giurlannu Zarù said nothing more: he resumed staring at that fly, which Neli, as