Antonio Tabucchi - Time Ages in a Hurry

— Sure, said the man, it’s a normal thing, everybody has existential disagreements, there’s no need to get worked up about it.

Isabella had her hands in the sand again, but now she seemed almost jaunty, and she giggled a little.

— You’re clever, she said, you haven’t told me yet why you spend your days under the umbrella, you know everything about me and you don’t talk about yourself, but why did you come to the beach if you spend your days in a beach chair taking pills, what are you doing?

— Well, murmured the man, to put it simply, I’m waiting for the effects of the depleted uranium, but that takes patience.

— What do you mean?

— It’s too long to explain, effects are effects and to understand the results there’s nothing to do but wait for them.

— Do you have to wait for long?

— Not so long now, I think, about a month, maybe less.

— And meanwhile what do you do all day long, here under the umbrella, don’t you get bored?

— Not at all, said the man, I practice the art of nefelomanzia.

The girl opened her eyes wide, made a face and then smiled. It was the first time she’d really smiled, showing little white teeth crossed by a metal thread.

— Is that a new invention?

— Oh no, he said, it’s a very ancient thing, imagine, Strabo talks about it, it has to do with geography, but you won’t study Strabo till ginnasio , in junior high you only study a bit of Herodotus as you did this year with your geography teacher, geography is a very ancient thing, dear Isabèl, it’s existed forever.

Isabella was watching him, doubtful.

— And what would this stuff consist of, what’s it called?

— Nefelomanzia , said the man, it’s a Greek word, nefele means cloud and manzia , to foretell, nefelomanzia is the art of predicting the future by observing the clouds, or rather, the form of the clouds, because in this art, form is substance, and that’s why I’ve come on vacation to this beach, because a friend from the air force who deals with meteorology assured me that in the Mediterranean there’s no other coast like this one where clouds form on the horizon in an instant. And as quickly as they take shape they dissolve again, and it’s right in that instant that a real nefelomant must practice his art, to understand what the shape of a certain cloud foretells before the formation dissolves in the wind, before it transforms into transparent air and turns to sky.

Isabella had gotten to her feet, mechanically shaking the sand from her thin legs. She combed back her hair and threw a skeptical glance at the man, but her gaze was also full of curiosity.

— I’ll give you an example, said the man, sit in the chair next to mine, to study the clouds on the horizon before they vanish you need to sit and focus carefully.

He pointed toward the sea.

— Can you see that white little cloud, down there? Follow my finger, more to the right, near the promontory.

— I see it, said Isabella.

It was a little puff rolling in the air, very far away, in the lacquered sky.

— Watch carefully, said the man, and consider it, in nefelomanzia you need quick intuition but consideration is indispensable, don’t lose sight of it.

Isabella shaded her eyes with her hand. The man lit a cigarette.

— Smoking isn’t good for your health, said Isabella.

— Don’t worry about what I’m doing, think about the cloud, in this world there are lots of things that aren’t good for your health.

— It’s opened at the sides, exclaimed Isabella, as if it’s taken on wings.

— Butterfly, said the man confidently, and the butterfly has only one meaning, there’s no doubt.

— Which is? asked Isabella.

— People with existential disagreements stop having them, people separated will be reunited and their life will be gracious like the flight of a butterfly, Strabo, page twenty-six of the main book.

— What book is that? asked Isabella.

— The main book of Strabo, said the man, that’s the title, unfortunately it was never translated into modern languages, it’s only studied in the last semester of college because you can only read it in ancient Greek.

— Why was it never translated?

— Because modern languages are too hurried, said the man, in the haste to communicate they become synthetic and grow less precise, for instance ancient Greek uses the dual in conjugating verbs, we only have the plural, and when we say we , in this case you and I, we can also mean many people, but for the ancient Greeks, who were quite exact, if only you and I are doing or saying that thing, only a pair of us, the dual was used. For instance, the nefelomanzia of that cloud is being done only by the two of us, only we know about it, and for this they had the dual.

— Really awesome, said Isabella, and let out a little shriek, putting a hand over her mouth, look at the other side, at the other side!

— It’s a cirrus, the man said, a beautiful baby cirrus that in a moment will be swallowed by the sky, ordinary people would mistake it for a nimbus, though a cirrus is a cirrus, too bad for them, and the form of a cirrus can’t have any other meaning but its own, which other clouds don’t have.

— Which is? asked Isabella.

— Depends on the shape, said the man, you have to interpret it, and here’s where I need you, otherwise what kind of nefelomanti are we?

— It seems to be splitting in two, said Isabella, look, it really is split in two, they seem like two little sheep trotting side by side.

— Two cirrinus lambs, without a doubt.

— I just don’t get it.

— It’s easy, said the man, the meek lamb by itself represents the evolutions of humankind, Strabo, page thirty-one of the main book, watch carefully, but when it splits, it becomes two parallel wars, one is just and the other unjust, they’re impossible to distinguish, which ultimately isn’t all that important to us, what matters is to understand how they’ll both end up, what their future holds.

Isabella glanced at him like someone awaiting an urgent response.

— A miserable end, I can assure you, dear Isabèl.

— Are you really sure? she asked in an anxious voice.

— You tell me, whispered the man, I’m closing my eyes now, you have to interpret them, watch them, be patient, but try to catch just the right moment, because after that you’ll be too late. The man closed his eyes, extended his legs, lowered a cap over his face, and remained still, as though falling asleep. Perhaps a minute passed, even more. Over the beach was a great silence, the bathers had gone to the restaurant.

— They’re flaking in a kind of stracciatella soup, said Isabella in a low voice, like when the trail of a jet breaks up, now you can hardly see them, how weird, I can hardly see them, you look too.

The man didn’t move.

— It’s not necessary, he said, Strabo, page twenty-four of the main book, he wasn’t ever wrong, two thousand years ago he prophesied the end of all war, but nobody up to now has fully grasped it, and today we’ve finally deciphered it on this beach, the two of us.

— You know you’re an awesome man? said Isabella.

— I’m perfectly aware of that, answered the man.

— I think it’s time to go to the restaurant, she went on, maybe my mom is already waiting at our table and she gets angry, can we keep talking this afternoon?

— I don’t know, nefelomanzia is a very tiring art, maybe this afternoon I’ll have to sleep, otherwise this evening I won’t even make it to dinner.

— Is this why you take so many pills? asked Isabella, because of the nefelomanzia ?