Miracle Man

It was precisely a quarter past seven on the old pendulum clock when the car entered the drive. Sunset light was falling diagonal on the drive’s gravel in through the tall black ornamental trees. The countryside was red. The city in the background was blurred by he haze and the last birds of the day were exploiting what light was left to sing and frantically fly from tree to tree.

The car passed the cold iron gate.

-He’s arriving- Francesca said.

-What?- Alberto arrived from the living room running on his toes. -He’s arriving?

-Look.

Alberto pulled aside a curtain edge with the back of his hand.

The car stopped before the short stairs leading to the main door. A white Punto, sprayed in mud. From what could be seen the driver was wearing sunglasses.

-That would be him?- Alberto said.

The driver opened the front door and stepped off with a hop both clumsy and heavy for the late autumn cold. He was wearing blue jeans, footing shoes and a yellow parka, face covered by hood’s shadow and glasses.

-I don’t know- Azzurra said pushing between Francesca and Alberto -he looks so blue-collar.

-Do you know anyone else?

-We don’t know him either.

The parka vaguely smelled of mould - yes, mould, Francesca thought opening the door. It was just like the driver had been stuck for years in a box seat, in the depths of a basement. And now there he was at their door, against the blood-red of the garden.

-‘m I in the right place?- he said. He looked just as if something were amusing him. He eyed Francesca, then Azzurra and Alberto behind her. -Yes, reckon I am. May I? Thanks.- He passes beyond Francesca and the others, then looked around. He was carrying a black suitcase, edges worn out. He put it down, took off the glasses and pulled down the parka hood to reveal a straggling mass of dark brown hair down half his neck.

-Um- Alberto said -you are…

-Shin- the driver said. -Just Shin, no mister. Stage name- he added before they could ask.

-Shin- Alberto remarked.

Shin pulled himself to look at a dining room set for five. Embroidered tablecloth, candlesticks, double dish set, apt silverware for each course and all the necessary courses.  Sitting head of table a plump, tuxedo-dressed guy was getting drunk on champagne.

-She’s this way- Alberto said pulling Shin’s sleeve in the opposite direction. -This way.

-Ah, right. How much time do we have then?

-Well, time is not a problem but…

-Yes, okay. Where’s she?

-Here she is- Alberto said stopping on the living room door.

-Ah- Shin said taking a look inside. -Aha… how long’s she been dead?

-Two hours.

Somewhere behind them one of the girls sobbed.

-Ah- Shin said. -Two hours, we can do that. What’s her name?

-Diamante.

Diamante was a blonde girl, wrapped in a black silk evening dress, and dead. Judging from the state of the room she had been hurled back from the big glossy table to the wall, up to two, maybe three meters high, and then she’d fallen to the floor, where she stuck. Dress was probably raw silk.

One of the chair had got smashed against the wall. A lamp had fallen scattering blue and white debris on a good portion of the floor. Diamante was cold and white in the black silk dress.

Shin lighted himself a cigarette.

-So, let me get it- he said tracing a trajectory from table to wall. At the center of the dark surface of the table a series of concentric circles was drawn in red chalk, partially exploded, together with a number of unrecognizable red chalk symbols. It was as if someone had blown in the center, and then lit a fire, or the other way round. The center was black and opaque, wood heat-twisted. -Lemme guess. You decided to do this… what d’you call it?

-Séance.

-… to do this séance before dinner, right- Shin said. -Nothing wrong so far. And then there’s been this… blaze?

-We couldn’t know something like this would happen- Francesca said.

-And Diamante has been thrown through the room.

Azzurra nodded, arms crossed. -You got a cigarette?

Shin passed a  cigarette. -Oh well. C’mon, on the table.

Alberto grabbed Diamante’s pegs. Diamante slipped on the wall tracing a blood arc with her head and hit the floor with a dull sound. Shin took her by the arms, counted three and he and Alberto lifted her to the table.

Her head had a lacerated-contused wound around the nape, but the bad part was the neck. Broken, twice. Spine had snapped and a trait had pierced the skin. Someone groaned. Blood had been dripping over the whole wall-table trait on the brickwork floor and the large flower-motif carpet. The dense and sticky smell hovered up in little waves.

-Ten thousands- Shin said.

-Yes, I know- Alberto said. -Francesca…

Francesca went to fetch the money on her thin high heels.

-Take this- Shin said producing a gun from the parka. -Alberto, take it.

-Why?

-Personal safety.

Francesca reentered the room with a small glittering mass in her hands.

-What’s that?- Shin said.

-Nacklaces.- Francesca showed the goods, gold and various stones. -They’re more than ten thousands.

-We said cash.

-Where are we supposed to find ten thousands now?

-You mean there ain’t a safe here?

-Well, yes, but we don’t have… what’s that?

-A gun.

-Why?

-Personal safety.

-Why?

-Well, I don’t know precisely what slapped Diamante against that wall. Alberto, point it at her.

-At her?

-Yeah, Diamante. These… what d’you call it… entities? This stuff lurks, sometimes. Guy working with me said one of these things’d shoved himself in a girl’s head once. Yep, and then it’d stuck there for weeks when they had to suppress her.- Shin nodded at Diamante. -I don’t wanna be the next one ending up on some wall, so she wakes up and does…things she ain’t supposed to, you shoot. Very well…- The necklaces vanished in the parka’s inner pocket. He opened up the suitcase.

The only thing contained in the suitcase was a little glass bottle with dropper. In the bottle a dense, translucent orange liquid. Shin took the bottle, hands paired.

-Miracle fluid- he said before they could ask. -Psychoreactive. Pure.

-What?- Francesca said as Alberto was rolling the gun between his hands.

-Psychoreactive.- Shin handed the bottle to her. -Think of something bad. Whatever you want.

The liquid speckled black and felt like growing heavier, till it was as dense and dead as oil.

-Now something good.

Francesca’s forehead wrinkled. The liquid lightened, now a clear orange.

-I really hope it works- Alberto said. -Personally, we don’t believe in any of these things, but her father- and nodded at Diamante -he expects to see her back before eleven tonight. What do we tell him if this thing doesn’t work, sorry there’s been an accident?

-Yea, I see. Stand back. Keep the gun on her.

Shin dropped some liquid on Diamante’s exposed spine, held his breath and pushed it back in her neck with two fingers. He heard a series of wet crackles. Pulled his fingers out just before the skin started to stitch back on the wound. Turned Diamante up. Opened her eyes and put a drop in each of her pupils. Closed her lids, closed the bottle, stepped back.

-Now what?- Francesca said.

Diamante violently breathed in, snapped into a hysterical arch and fell back on the table breathing heavily.

Alberto curved over her. Regular breath, regular beat. He raised her head. Her nape and spine were all right. -She’s…

-She’s all right- Shin said putting the bottle back in the suitcase. -You can wash the wall, I’d say. Listen, in case you need me ag…

Shin stopped. Something was growling. Diamante, standing four legs on the table, was scraping the wooden surface. She was partly surrounded by a golden figure, a four-legged shape like some sort of animal of light. Now and then it vanished inside her figure, then surfaced again, struggling as if Diamante had been something uncomfortable and too tight that it was trying to get rid of. The thing was growling.

There was a shot. A red mass exploded from Diamante’s head and sprayed over the back on the room. The golden figure vanished retreating in Diamante and the girl tumbled disconnected on the table.

Alberto was still holding the gun.

-Oh fuck- he was saying -Oh fuck.

Francesca had dived behind the table. Azzurra hadn’t managed to do anything.

Shin pulled himself from the floor leaning against the wall.

-Exactly- he said. Went back to the table, rolled Diamante’s head to check entry and exit points. You could have stuck a hand inside there. Unfixable. He let her fall shaking his head.

-Oh well- he said heading for the door. -You need me again, you know where to find me.

Made sure that the suitcase was locked, pulled up the parka hood, and left.

Night had just fallen over the countryside. The last purple halo was shutting down above the horizon. The birds had stopped singing.

Standing before the window Francesca was watching Shin leave in the white Punto on the gravel drive. Alberto was on the phone.

-Hallo?- he was saying. He sounded like he was calling from Mars. -Hallo, Emanuele?- he looked at Diamante’s body on the living room table, a steady ticking of blood dripping on the carpet. -There’s been an accident.

© Copyright 2003 - 2007 Riccardo Raccis, Florence. All rights reserved