Armando Lazzari - Lilith

"No, at least he has never told me about it, but I repeat that he has always been in excellent shape." So far.

"Do you have any relatives I could talk to?"

All I can think of is Sara...

"I know he has a sister who lives just outside of Rome. I had the intention to call her, but without a response from you I didn't want to alarm her for nothing... at this point, though, I think I'll contact her soon. In the meantime, could I see him?"

"It is better you come back tomorrow, he needs to rest and he's under control, take it easy."

Before leaving, I leave my and Sara's information.

On leaving the hospital I decided to anticipate them, I called her to explain the situation trying not to alarm her too much.

It was useless, she was very worried. She tells me that she would have rushed there. It's nice to know that there's still someone who can feel sorry for you....

On my way home I can't help but think about what happened to Roberto and I'm partly ashamed of what I thought about him on Sunday. I'm looking for a rational explanation: maybe he's suffering from one of those rare hereditary diseases, but I don't know why my thoughts go to that strange girl.

Could she have given him some special drug?

C’mon! Do you want to see that now she belongs to a team of crazy scientists doing genetic experiments on poor unfortunates?

It's ok, let's joke about it, the fact is that I don't know any other way to exorcise my fears.

Poor guy, what a shame!

Isn't that... yes, it's the black bike. It's unmistakable! Do you want to see if the woman in the story was really her? But I can't see her in the admissions department, and I don't even think they allowed her into her room. Maybe I'm wrong.

The Legend

In Bed

It feels like a movie. It's as if these memories don't belong to me and I'm a spectator who paid for a ticket to attend the premiere in a movie theatre.

These images surface and go away without my apparent will, at least they seem to have a consecutive logic. Now, however, I am more certain than ever that in order to solve this mystery I must get to the bottom of the story.

More time has passed and nothing has changed... well, not really nothing: the night has fallen; maybe if I could fall asleep for a few hours, when I woke up everything would be normal again.

Yes, but why isn't everything normal? That Roberto is the first victim of a tremendous deadly virus and I am the second and tragic episode? I would say that American apocalyptic films should be halved at the cinema.

Just a moment! Here's something new: my neck is no longer motionless, now I can move my head! And that's progress.

Who knows, maybe if I tried harder, I'd be able to move the rest of my body and maybe even stand up....

Inhuman effort.

What the hell!

I look around. Despite the darkness I can make out a few objects in the room.

Doubtful: has the window always been open?

The white crenelated curtain, urged on by the wind, flutters free. It almost seems to be animated by a will of its own, with a tendency to take on distinct shapes with every puff it receives.

First it was a large bird, perhaps an eagle.

Now the meaning of the figure is lost and reinvented: it is a woman with long, loose hair.

It lasts a short time. A gust arrives and disrupts everything. The curtain becomes tangled as if handled by a skilful conjurer who cleverly makes it take the shape of...

Home

"Meow..."

"A cat?"

What the hell is a cat doing in front of my front door?

"Meow." It rubs ruffling at my pants. He looks hungry.

He has a small golden collar that stands out against the clear grey fur. I pet him smoothly and he lets me pick him up.

"Where did you run off to? Your owner is sure to be worried."

He wears a really nice collar. He's too clean and sociable to be for a stray.

"Meow." He appreciates my attention and purrs at me.

A tag pops out of his collar that I hadn't noticed before. There is opaque writing on it. I try to read it.

"Lil... what's next? It doesn't read well, maybe your name is Lilli? Are you a sissy then? Let's see if I can find you master."

I walk out the door and go to the intercom. I start ringing one by one to all the tenants. Except for three who don't seem to be home, they all answer me that they are not the owners.

"Now what am I going to do with you? I don't feel like putting you out on the street. I'll tell you what: I'll host you and I'll commit myself to finding your owner, but only for a few days at the most, but then..." With my hands I make a gesture more than eloquent even for the understanding of a feline.

"Meow." He seems to agree. Pact sealed.

I open the door with the keys and as soon as the door opens, he frees himself from my grasp with an agile move and quickly enters the house.

"Yes, good, go ahead and make yourself at home, don't worry."

Elegantly he points straight at the sofa as if he already knew the environment and with a decisive leap he takes possession of it. Sitting in a composed manner, she moves her paw. It seems absurd, but I could swear that she is pointing to the kitchen. If she's hungry, then that means there are two of us.

"Fine: I'll cook tonight, but we're agreed that you'll do the dishes afterwards!"

Of course I must have gone crazy if I'm talking to a cat and making a deal with it. What female, human or not, in history has ever respected a pact?

The cat seems to have fallen asleep, but I don't really want to sleep and the TV doesn't show any program worthy of attention. I get up listlessly from the couch, letting the bluish light of the television give some colour to the room, and I look out the window. The thought of Roberto's fate is now a permanent concern, but I put it aside for a moment to admire the beautiful moon that illuminates the almost deserted street this evening. It's that almost that upsets me.

That bike again! I'm not wrong and it can't be just a coincidence. But where is the owner? I try to read the license plate: too far away. Okay, you won't get away from me this time.

I grab a piece of paper and a pen from the shelf, put on a jacket and hurry out to check for myself.

Gone. Damn it, it's gone! Yet I was a missile and didn't give her time to disappear. Unless I dreamed her, but I don't think I've gone that stupid.

I returned to the apartment and noticed that the front door was open. But didn't I close it? My eye falls on the couch: where did the cat go? I look for him, but he seems to have disappeared too.

What is this, the evening dedicated to Houdini?

Office

Is it possible that in this period my office is always flooded with papers? Okay, let's take a coffee break and call Roberto's sister.

"Hi, it's me: Davide. Any news of your brother?"

"Hi. The doctors say he's stable. I managed to see him, albeit only for a few minutes, but what happened? Blessed God, I almost didn't recognize him!" Her voice trembles.

"To tell you the truth, I was hoping you would know more, but listen to me: now you don't have to worry, he's being kept under control and you'll see that when he recovers everything will be back to normal and he'll explain everything to us."

"I don't know... I'm scared, I've never seen him like this!"

Can I blame her?

"Because you've never been there during one of our beer nights!" Bluff, maybe she believes it.

"Beer? But what beer! They didn't find a drop of alcohol in his blood, let alone traces of drugs!"

He didn't believe it. Let's try to change tactics.

"Did they mention the congenital disease hypothesis to you?"

"Yes! And I'm super sure it can't be, we've always been healthy in our family. Then there's the matter of all that missing blood, and you want to know another weird one? Apparently the only place it could be leaking from is a bruise on her neck, and there isn't even a tiny hole to give it any logic!"