Read Online The Purple Room by Mauro Casiraghi - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mauro Casiraghi
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doesn’t budge.
The fire devours another few feet of bushes.
I take a few steps down the slope, grabbing onto branches and brambles
to keep from sliding.
“Hey! Come here!” I shout.
It doesn’t work. The dog is paralyzed with fear.
A few people are gathering on the road above. A neighbor yells at me not
to go down there. He’s right. I should forget it. It would be stupid to risk getting
seriously hurt. I’m about to go back up when Michela springs to mind. I’ve
never liked dogs, but she loves them. What would she say if she knew I’d let
one burn to death and hadn’t even tried to save it?
I continue down the slope, trying to steer clear of the fire. It’s very
close. I can feel the heat on my face. People are still shouting down at me
from the road. I don’t stop. I fight my way through the brambles. The thorns
scratch my arms and hands, but I push forward until I see the dog’s white fur.
“Here, boy! Come here!”
The dog looks surprised to see me. It licks its nose with its pink
tongue, wags its tail, and tries to squeeze through the brambles toward me. I
hold my arms out to it.
“Come on! Jump!”
Suddenly, the wind changes, throwing smoke in my face. I can’t breathe.
I start coughing, hard. My eyes are burning. I can’t keep them open. I’m about
to give up when I feel something soft in my hands. It’s the dog’s paws.
“Good boy! You did it!”
I lift it up into my arms. Now I have to get out of here as fast as I
can. I turn around to go back the way I came, but something’s holding me back.
My shirt is caught on the thorns, but my hands are full and I can’t pull myself
free. The heat of the fire is pricking at the back of my neck. It feels like my
hair could catch fire at any moment and, all of a sudden, I feel drained. I
can’t find it in me to move. My eyes are burning like crazy. I close them and
stop moving, as if staying still could save me.
The dog squirms in my arms, trembling all over. It doesn’t understand
why we’re not getting out of this inferno. I stroke its head to calm it down
and wonder if I’ll make it into the news. Man
Survives the Bends, Then Burns to Death . My mother will probably cut it out
and file it away in the June folder of box fifty-three. This time, though, I’m
not going to go down without a thought in my head. I focus on Michela’s
childhood pictures. My last thought will be of her.
The smoke swallows me whole and steals my breath. The heat is
unbearable. As I wait for the flames to take me, I realize I can’t think about
my daughter. The thought of that woman in the purple room fills my mind. I see
her again in the light of the window, and feel a twinge of desire. My body
tenses, full of longing for her. It seems impossible to die without knowing who
she is, without seeing her again. Almost without realizing it, I brace my feet against
the earth and start pushing with my legs. I lean forward as hard as I can,
until my shirt rips. Finally free, I put my head down and throw myself forward.
Holding the dog tightly in my arms, I run until we’re away from the fire.
I end up surrounded by firemen. One takes the dog from me. A couple of
others throw a blanket over my shoulders and whisk me away. Up the road, more
firemen are shooting water out from their truck. The onlookers cheer my
rescuers. Someone asks if they should call an ambulance. I say no. My arms and
legs are covered with scratches, but I’m fine.
Nino comes over to me, wide-eyed.
“Sergio! What the hell did you do? Are you out of your mind?”
A firefighter brings me the dog. It’s covered in soot and wagging its
tail as fast as it can.
“Here’s your dog,” he says. “It’s not hurt.”
“It’s not my dog.”
“Well, whose is it, then?”
We ask around. Everyone says it must be a stray. No owner. Just a lucky
little bastard without a home.
Nino and Sabrina wanted to take me to a doctor. I told them the
scratches weren’t serious, and eventually they
The fire devours another few feet of bushes.
I take a few steps down the slope, grabbing onto branches and brambles
to keep from sliding.
“Hey! Come here!” I shout.
It doesn’t work. The dog is paralyzed with fear.
A few people are gathering on the road above. A neighbor yells at me not
to go down there. He’s right. I should forget it. It would be stupid to risk getting
seriously hurt. I’m about to go back up when Michela springs to mind. I’ve
never liked dogs, but she loves them. What would she say if she knew I’d let
one burn to death and hadn’t even tried to save it?
I continue down the slope, trying to steer clear of the fire. It’s very
close. I can feel the heat on my face. People are still shouting down at me
from the road. I don’t stop. I fight my way through the brambles. The thorns
scratch my arms and hands, but I push forward until I see the dog’s white fur.
“Here, boy! Come here!”
The dog looks surprised to see me. It licks its nose with its pink
tongue, wags its tail, and tries to squeeze through the brambles toward me. I
hold my arms out to it.
“Come on! Jump!”
Suddenly, the wind changes, throwing smoke in my face. I can’t breathe.
I start coughing, hard. My eyes are burning. I can’t keep them open. I’m about
to give up when I feel something soft in my hands. It’s the dog’s paws.
“Good boy! You did it!”
I lift it up into my arms. Now I have to get out of here as fast as I
can. I turn around to go back the way I came, but something’s holding me back.
My shirt is caught on the thorns, but my hands are full and I can’t pull myself
free. The heat of the fire is pricking at the back of my neck. It feels like my
hair could catch fire at any moment and, all of a sudden, I feel drained. I
can’t find it in me to move. My eyes are burning like crazy. I close them and
stop moving, as if staying still could save me.
The dog squirms in my arms, trembling all over. It doesn’t understand
why we’re not getting out of this inferno. I stroke its head to calm it down
and wonder if I’ll make it into the news. Man
Survives the Bends, Then Burns to Death . My mother will probably cut it out
and file it away in the June folder of box fifty-three. This time, though, I’m
not going to go down without a thought in my head. I focus on Michela’s
childhood pictures. My last thought will be of her.
The smoke swallows me whole and steals my breath. The heat is
unbearable. As I wait for the flames to take me, I realize I can’t think about
my daughter. The thought of that woman in the purple room fills my mind. I see
her again in the light of the window, and feel a twinge of desire. My body
tenses, full of longing for her. It seems impossible to die without knowing who
she is, without seeing her again. Almost without realizing it, I brace my feet against
the earth and start pushing with my legs. I lean forward as hard as I can,
until my shirt rips. Finally free, I put my head down and throw myself forward.
Holding the dog tightly in my arms, I run until we’re away from the fire.
I end up surrounded by firemen. One takes the dog from me. A couple of
others throw a blanket over my shoulders and whisk me away. Up the road, more
firemen are shooting water out from their truck. The onlookers cheer my
rescuers. Someone asks if they should call an ambulance. I say no. My arms and
legs are covered with scratches, but I’m fine.
Nino comes over to me, wide-eyed.
“Sergio! What the hell did you do? Are you out of your mind?”
A firefighter brings me the dog. It’s covered in soot and wagging its
tail as fast as it can.
“Here’s your dog,” he says. “It’s not hurt.”
“It’s not my dog.”
“Well, whose is it, then?”
We ask around. Everyone says it must be a stray. No owner. Just a lucky
little bastard without a home.
Nino and Sabrina wanted to take me to a doctor. I told them the
scratches weren’t serious, and eventually they
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