When news of the terrible fire reached the sheepfold of Ziu Cosimu, the consternation was general - no one was saved, in the inexplicable fire had died Don Antonio and his nephew Don Ettore, Ziu Santo and his daughter Donna Martina and Donna Tana. Only Matteo, Damianu and Renzino had escaped the disaster.
When Damianu heard the news, he fainted. Matteo in turn was terribly shocked. No one knew how the fire could have blown up, but the boy, who still retained the note from Ettore that Primus had given him in secret, had understood everything.
""Matteo, for the love of God and our Father, you have to take Damianu and Renzino with you, and take them to Ziu Cosimu's place, before it becomes night and you have to sleep there. It is extremely important! Do not tell anyone of this note. Do not betray me, at least not you. You'll understand the reason by tomorrow morning. I beg you, Matteo, I count on you, do not betray me and do what I ask you! Your brother Ettore.."
When he read that note, two things had struck him - the explicit reference to "our father" and "your brother." What everyone knew, and said, though never aloud, was for the first time written explicitly in the note - Matteo was indeed the half brother of Don Ettore. Then the insistence and urgency to take away his son and his lover, and then that mention "you'll understand by tomorrow morning."
This Matteo thought while taking care of Damianu. Holy God, Ettore must have been desperate to reach such a decision! While Rose, the daughter of Ziu Cosimu was taking care of Renzino, who kept asking where his father was, Matteo looked at the pale face of Damianu who's head was resting on his lap. Putting a cloth soaked in vinegar under his nose, he tried to get him to recover his senses.
Damianu groaned. Shortly after he opened his eyes and inside them Matteo read a despair so deep that his heart bled even more.
"Why? Why did he do it? Why he did not bring me away too?" moaned the boy.
Matteo caressed his face, and wondered what he could say, what he could do to alleviate the anguish of Damianu.
"Why, Matteo, why? Why did Ettore do it?" the boy moaned again.
Matteo shook his head, unable to answer the distressed question. Then he realized that Damianu had understood what he already knew. Unlike all the others who spoke of a terrible misfortune, Damianu really knew how it had happened.
Matteo instinctively began to rock the boy, slightly swaying his pelvis back and forth. What could he say? How could he answer that question?
When Matteo read the note of his half brother, he had thought that maybe Ettore wanted to take Damianu and his son away, and to flee with them. Do this by leaving the sheepfold of Ziu Cosimo would have been easier than getting away from home. He thought that Ettore had this plan and asked him, with that note, to help him. And instead...
"If he loved me, he would have carried me along with him. He knew that I would have followed him, even in death I would have followed, he knew it. But he didn't take me away with him, he has left me here alone. "
"No, he did not leave you alone, he did leave you with me, he did entrust you and his son Renzino, a part of him, to me" Matteo murmured, overwhelmed by the intensity of the pain he felt permeated the whole being of Damianu.
"You knew..." wailed the boy and his was a statement, a question, an accusation.
"No, Damianu, I did not know."
"Why have you brought us up here then, Matteo?"
"Ettore had asked me, but I did not know, I swear."
"I had to stay with him, I should die with him. But he didn't want me with him, he did not want me."
"You... you have always done everything Ettore asked you."
"Yes... everything."
"Well, now he wanted this, from you, from us," Matteo said gently. "He wanted you to live, that we might live, that we take care of Renzino, do you not understand? He wanted that something of him continued to live through the three of us, do you not understand? In you, his love, in Renzino and me his flesh. This is the last thing he asked, Damianu."
"In me, his love?" Damianu asked almost amazed, not so much by the fact that Matthew, with those words, proved to be aware of their love, but because at that moment he felt that his love had been betrayed by the man, .
"Yes, out of desperation he decided... to put an end to all . For love, he decided that you, that we continue to live, do you not understand?"
"It was enough for him to say to you to take away Renzino, and leave me to die with him. In his arms."
"He could not, do you not understand? To him you were more important than his own life, do you not understand? You would have done the same for him. You'd be dead in order to save his life, right? That's what he did, nothing more."
Damianu shook his head, he felt betrayed by Ettore in what he held most sacred - betrayed in love. Who really loves does not take away from the beloved what is most values. And he had nothing but Ettore; life had not given him anything else of value.
Meanwhile, Rosa was talking to his father, Ziu Cosimu: "They are left with nothing, the poor boys. What can they do, now?"
"They'll be here with us. I owe it to Don Antonio, rest in peace, I owe it to the Dore. They will stay with us until they are able to think for themselves... even forever, as far as I'm concerned. "
"What an awful tragedy, what a terrible misfortune. All those deaths among the flames! What a horrible death." Rosa murmured rapidly making the sign of the cross, as if to exorcise the bad luck.
The investigation of the carabineers had closed the case as an accident - most likely the old Donna Tana had inadvertently reversed the lamp and all were surprised in their sleep. The remains of Ettore were found by the bedside of Donna Tana, the other three each in his own bed, even if everything had collapsed.
Two days later, in the parish church of Arbatax, were held the funeral of the Dore family. The five black coffins containing the remains of the charred bodies were lined up in the church, and there was the whole village, and several people had come from the neighbouring villages, when the news had spread.
On the bench of the Dore, the first on the right, now decorated with silver edged black drapes that covered the arms and the family name, sat only Matteo and Damianu, and among them Renzino; Damianu clung to him, his arm around the child's shoulders in a spontaneous protective gesture.
The child had his big head resting on the side of Damianu. The two young men sat erect, their faces impassive.
"Which is the coffin of Dad?" the boy asked in a whisper.
"It's the one in the centre." Damianu replied in a low voice.
"Because Daddy is the most important of all, is it not?"
"Yes, for that." Damianu nodded.
"And now, he went to Mom?" asked the child.
"Yes." Damianu answered, and in his mind raised a thought to which he did not give voice: yes; he has preferred her to me!
When they left the churchyard, all three followed the passage of the five coffins, and the sad procession escorted them to the cemetery.
Then, back to the village, priest Portolu and the mayor asked the two boys to go with them to the town hall with the child . With them went also the sergeant of the carabineers. The mayor pulled out some papers, broke the seals and, in front of those present he read their content.
Donna Tana had left all her money, that was kept by the bank Sella of Cagliari in the form of government bonds, to the little Lorenzo Dore, giving provisions that the administrator of the funds until adulthood of the child was entrusted to one of the Dore "excluding Ettore Dore. " The old woman had wanted to give a final moral blow to the young man, though now it no longer had any importance. The administrator of the funds was authorized to use only the annuity for the maintenance of the child, but could not touch the capital.
Another document was the testament of Don Antonio - he left all the property to his nephew, Ettore. But this meant that he no longer left anything more, because the Agricultural bank would require as partial payment of the debts the only field that remained and the plot on which stood the blackened ruins of the house. Then there was a document which stated that Matteo was the son of his eldest son, therefore a Dore, and another was the document with which, years before, Don Antonio had legally adopted Damianu.
Delivered to Matto and Damianu all the documents and made to sign the acts to the sergeant Accossato and priest Portolu, the mayor asked Matteo what they intended to do at this point.
"We do not yet know. For the moment let us return to Ziu Cosimu and work for him, at least for a while. But he is not wealthy, Ziu Cosimu, we can not stay long with him, even though he said for us not to worry," answered the young man.
"You have nothing, except a bit of money to raise Renzino. You feel like taking care of him?" priest Portolu asked.
"Of course we will take care of Renzino!" answered Matteo.
"If you wanted to put him in college," suggested the priest, "I can put a good word in for you to the Sisters of St. Catherine, in Nuoro."
"No. Renzino will remain with us. I always took care of him, after all... besides Donna Martina," Damianu said flatly.
"Poor little thing... And he is sick of dropsy, you know it, even if Don Ettore, God rest his soul, did not want to talk about it," priest Portolu said. "He is not seriously ill, by the grace of God, but the child will never be normal, you understand? In a college, maybe..."
"Don Ettore would have never put him in a college and we will not do it." Damianu interrupted in a determined tone watching Matteo, who nodded.
"We are his family, aren't we?" Matteo said in a determined tone. "From the papers that the mayor read us, and that I have here, I'm his uncle, right? And also Damianu, having been adopted in his time by my grandfather, is a Dore like us - Renzino still has his family. And the Dore family, in spite of everything, has always been united and will remain so. Renzino will remain with us. "
Damianu looked at him with a sense of gratitude for that determined stance. For the first time he thought that, beyond the undoubted physical resemblance to Ettore, in that moment Matteo resembled his brother also in attitude - despite his more sweet and gentle aspect, in his eyes and voice he had the same determination of his man... of his man who was gone.
Priest Portolu nodded: "May God help you, boys," he said.
"Which God? The one who has allowed... all this to happen...?" Damianu asked with a bitterness dictated by the pain that gripped his heart.
"That God that, though he seems to look elsewhere, never ceases to take care of his creatures," answered the priest.
"And which way was He looking that night when... when..." Damianu protested, unable to continue.
"One day perhaps we will understand." Matteo suggested feeling a sharp pain in the soul, intensified by the pain that was still burning in the heart of Damianu.
"One day we will surely understand, when we too will be up there." the priest corrected him with gentle assurance.
"And then why is He waiting to call me up there also?" Damianu asked.
"Maybe he wants to give you enough time for you to understand something more..." suggested priest Portolu. Then he added: "If you came to church some more, if you prayed more, Damianu..."
Matteo shook his head: "This is not the time to make these speeches, priest Portolu. The fire is not yet completely cooled, do you not understand?"
The priest shook his head, but did not insist out of respect for the pain of the two young men. He greeted them and went back to the rectory.
Damianu looked toward Renzino who, not far off, was squatting on the ground and watched the ants busying around the entrance of their anthill. The young man called him. The boy looked at him and motioned with his finger on his lips for silence, do not disturb the ants.
Matteo suddenly remembered his tin box and wondered if the fire had eaten all his savings - he had to go check and if they were still there, he now had to remove it from its hiding place where he had kept it.
"Damianu, wait a minute, I have to do something," he said.
Damianu nodded and while Matteo went briskly toward the road that ran between the houses and the forest, went to snuggle next to Renzino and began to look at the ants as well. The child looked at him for a moment and smiled, then returned to observe the comings and goings around the anthill.
Matteo arrived at the orchard behind the ruins of the house. He went in, went to the wall that separated it from the yard and saw that it was still intact. Loosened the stone at the base, took the tin box and checked quickly its little money. Everything was in order. He put the stone in place, stood up and, with the box in his hand went back on the square. He called Damianu and Renzino and, taking the child between them with his two hands, the three began to climb slowly up to the fold of Ziu Cosimu.
Once at the house next to the fold, they left the child to play with Rosa, and Matteo motioned Damianu to go up with him into the room that Rosa had prepared for the three of them. Matteo sat on his bed and opened his tin box, showing its contents to his companion.
"I went to take my savings... see, Damianu, we have some money and if we go somewhere, we can find a job and earn a living. Here, Ziu Cosimu, in exchange for our work can not give more than food and shelter, but is not in conditions to give us money. Elsewhere, perhaps, we can instead earn something. What do you think? "
"Whatever you decide, is fine by me," answered the boy.
"Yes, the annuity from the money of Donna Tana will be enough just to provide for Renzino, but we both have to provide for ourselves."
"Do not mention the old witch! She hated Ettore. I do not want to hear any more of her. If she opened the strings of her purse, Ettore and the others would be alive today," Damianu said sharply, "I hope that bitch continues to burn in hell!"
"Never mind the past, my Damianu! We must think about the future," Matteo said gently.
"Past... future... there is nothing, nothing at all."
"There we are, Damianu. There you are, I'm there, and there is Renzino... the son of your Ettore."
Damianu looked surprised at him - for the first time he realized that Matteo knew.
"My Ettore..." echoed Damianu continuing to look into his eyes.
"Yes, your Ettore, Damianu."
"And what do you know?"
"I know."
"What do you know?"
"I know enough. I know how much you loved him. I know how much he loved you. And I know that you were for him... more than a wife, although he must prove it in secret."
"No, He did not love me... He did not love me or he would not have gone... would not leave me so. He did not love me enough. No, he did not love me... And besides, he never told me," Damianu said disconsolately.
"Yes, he loved you, instead. He loved you and even if he has never told you with words, he has demonstrated it to you, right? With all his body he has demonstrated it to you, right?"
"With all his body... yes... And you, you know? He told you?"
"No, I have seen."
"You never said anything."
"Why should I have? Whom I would have to say it? I also know how much, guys like us, must always keep secret their feelings and their meetings. But above all the feelings, because if a meeting can be forgiven, this sentiment is never forgiven."
"You know... you know everything. People like us, you said, so you too... you too love someone... you too love... a man."
Matteo nodded: "He is not a man, is a boy like me, a little younger than me."
"But at least he is alive," Damianu said unaware that Matteo was talking about him.
"Yes, he is alive, but he does not know that I love him, I never could tell him, I can not tell him."
"Why? He is not like us?" Damianu asked, forgetting for a brief moment his problems, his pain.
"Yes he is, but he loves another. He loves him too much to be able to listen to me. He loves him too much to allow me try to tell him what I feel for him."
"So we're alone, you and me," Damianu commented with a sad smile. "Life is but solitude; life is but pain. You and I have nothing."
"We have each other and now we have Renzino to think about. We are more lucky than others who do not have either."
"Lucky! How can you say that we are lucky? If this is luck... what is the misfortune? What are we, if not scattered stones, trampled by horses, kicked by passers-by, drowned by the rain and cracked by the sun. Too small to be useful, too large to pass unnoticed."
"Okay, we are scattered stones. Hard enough not to be broken either by the hooves of horses or kicked from the passers-by. But you just put them together with a bit cement and they can become a wall, just throw them with a sling, and they become a formidable projectile, just lay them on the sheets so that the wind does not take them away... Even the scattered stones, Damianu, may be valuable for many things."
A sudden flash that lit up brightly inside the room, and the strong thunder that followed shortly after startled the two boys. The rain began pouring down violently.
"Renzino... Renzino is outside!" Damianu said jumping up and rushed out, followed by Matteo.
A terrible lightning and the rumble of thunders almost immediately filled the courtyard and the harsh light caused sharp, almost cutting shadows from the trees and the house. In the middle of the threshing Renzino stood still, his face turned towards the sky, and laughed. Damianu ran to catch him, lifted him in his arms and ran back into the house. Both were already soaked.
Matteo said to: "Take him immediately to the room, you have to take off your wet clothes, and get under the blankets before you become ill."
While Damianu took off his clothes, Matteo took them off the child: "You should not remain in the storm, it's dangerous," he said.
"But I was not afraid," answered the little boy. "There are mom and dad up there watching me, and Damianu and you are here to look after me."
Matteo put the child, naked, on his bed and covered him with a small blanket. He could not help but see the naked body of Damianu, just before he laid on his bed and covered himself. It was beautiful, sexy, and attractive. Seeing the hairless skin, the thick tuft of black hair around his soft member, the slender, agile, and lean but strong shapes, made him tremble slightly and fuelled his desire.
"Are you warm?" Marco asked while outside it seemed that nature unleashed its fury against the house.
"I am not. I will come with you, Damianu?" Renzino asked.
"Come," answered the boy.
The child quickly slipped under the blanket of Damianu and leaned against him, crouching against his body. The boy hugged him.
"Now, I'm warm..." whispered the little one depositing a light kiss on the boy's bare chest, between the shoulder and the nipple.
Matteo took the little blanket from the bed of Renzino and added it to that of Damianu, placing it with tender care.
Damianu felt the little, soft and naked child's body against his. He thought that even if it was flesh of Ettore, the feeling was completely different. The contact with the naked body of his father would have burned him, making him flare with desire. But now he felt only tenderness. Yet it was a part of Ettore that he was holding against him.
>From the window continued to come flashes of lightning, but the noise of the thunder was moving away. With each flash, the figures of the three seemed to leap out from the darkness, and then plunge back in the shadows of the dark small bare room.
"You want me to turn on the light, Damianu?" asked Matteo.
"No, that's okay," answered the boy distracted from his thoughts.
"You sit here, near us, Matteo?" Renzino asked softly, with a voice that suggested more that of a little old lady than that of a child.
Matteo smiled and sat down on the floor beside the bed. He caressed the sparse blond and humid hair of Renzino, then also that black and thick hair of Damianu.
"Are you all right?" he then asked.
"Yes," the other two said, almost whispering.
Yes... Matteo thought that his desire had now a very different flavour. When he happened to be able to join with one of his occasional companions his desire was coloured by lust and of a thirst for enjoyment. But now, with regard to Damianu, his desire was full of tenderness and desire to give pleasure and relief to his companion: relief both to his body and to his soul.
Maybe it was the presence of the child between them, maybe it was the sense of tenderness that the two bodies under the covers made him feel, maybe it was the sense of loss that harboured in the mind and heart of Damianu that made the difference in him.
Suddenly, just as the storm blew up suddenly and violently, so the sky turned clear. The clouds ripped and trickled down behind the mountain. The sun, on the other side, before descending into the sea, spread its warm golden rays and nature reappeared in the stunned silence that follows the storm. In the room returned a bit of light, warm and pleasant.
Matteo looked at Damianu, and saw that silent tears fell from his half-closed eyes. His cheeks on which shortly before the rain had dried up, were wet again. Matteo instinctively caressed slightly the cheek of Damianu, thus wiping away those tears. The boy opened his big sad eyes and looked at his companion.
"How are you?" Matteo asked, looking at him intently, and a sad and fleeting smile flickered for a moment on his face.
"He is asleep," Damianu whispered and motioned with his eyes toward the child.
"Good. But you, how are you?" Matteo insisted.
"I do not know... You're right, Ettore is still here with me, thanks to him... and thanks to you. Sometimes you seem so different... but at times I feel I am looking at him. I'm sick, I'm confused... Why did he do it? Why has Ettore not shared with me that too? "
"Because he wanted you here, right now... with his son in your arms, and with me next to you two."
"What do you know, about what he wanted?" Damianu asked him in an incredulous lament, continuing to look him straight in his eyes.
"Maybe one day I will tell you," Matteo replied.
"Why one day, why not now? What are the things that you know, and that I did not think you could know? Like the fact that you are his brother - everybody knows, we all knew, but no one had ever spoke of it, before the document of Don Antonio was read." Damianu's voice was distraught, "Why do those who really know remain silent, and those who do not know chatter? Why does no one calls a spade a spade, instead of saying so many unnecessary words?"
"Huh, how many whys, my Damianu! To say or not to say things does not change the truth of things. And long ago priest Portolu said during a sermon, there is a time to laugh and a time to cry, one to say and one to keep quiet. "
"I know only the time to cry..."
"No, Damianuzzo, you also have known the time to love. No one can take that away from you."
"But that time is burned with the Dore house and will never return," complained the boy.
"And what do you know? Before... before you and he met, you could not even imagine it could happen. Yet it happened. And so you could feel what joy is, what love is." Matteo said, "We never know what tomorrow holds for us. Our dreams, our desires, are like our fears, our terrors - they are just inside us and only tomorrow will tell us whether and which will be realized, whether and which will die. "
"I want to die, Matteo, I want to close my eyes and not wake up ever again," Damianu murmured.
"But you can not do it, for yourself, for Renzino... and for me too," Matteo added, and saying these last words, felt his heart pounding, wondering if he had not made a mistake by saying that too.
"Whenever can we do what we want?" the boy asked in a sad tone.
"When we want something that we can do." Matteo replied with simple wisdom. "When we try to do what is right."