Oblivious, 4.d
anonymous
December 27 2010, 01:54:04 UTC
Antonio can't really remember what they talked about afterwards - the sense of unpleasant, sticky humidity that had followed him since morning had become even more thick, fogging up his brain, making him feel seasick, until he had to excuse himself, feeling like he was going to puke if he remained one minute more in that house.
That house - the other house of his childhood, all familiar smells and angles he could avoid in the dark, Nonno's familiar face smiling at him as usual - and Romano's glaring absence filling the rooms.
Outside, however, the sensation hasn't passed - he feels restless, and before he knows it his feet are walking. He recognizes the road as the one to Nenè's old place only when he's halfway to it.
Good, he thinks, I wanted to talk with Romano, and tries to suffocate the small voice telling him Romano wouldn't want to talk with him with his usual cheer. It doesn't quite work.
Nenè's place rests alone, a bit away from the small town, just where the steep road takes one last large curve before disappearing into the beach. It's a big, drafty wooden barrack, surrounded by tall pine trees and thick vegetation on all sides, except the one giving towards the beach, which is almost completely open to carry keels in and out, and the smell of sea, resin and tar mix in a heady way. It tugs at Antonio's heartstrings, reminding him of thousands of days passed playing in all the precious hidden places between here and the city.
The cats are new, thought.
He hears the familiar noise of metal biting wood when he comes closer - somebody is in there, working - but no voices, which makes him hope it's just one person. If only he could catch Romano alone...
The moment he pokes his head in the barrack, he finds out he's only half lucky.
Herakles doesn't even seem to notice him for a long minute, and Antonio is starting to think he could maybe go away unnoticed and try to catch Romano on the way there, when he finally murmurs, without raising his head, "Look, either go away or enter. This is a delicate part of the job".
Antonio deflates, the vague chill he has been feeling for the whole day finally replaced by confusion. "...what?"
"I need it to see. You're blocking it."
Antonio blinks.
Herakles sighs very deeply, and Antonio has another sudden attack of acute dislike for him. "You are blocking the light by standing there. Please move away."
Antonio huffs and steps in, too irritated to realize this means being in the same room with Herakles. "You could have just said so!"
"I just did."
"Well you weren't really clear, were you? Especially if you mutter and look somewhere else while you speak!"
"Fine!" Herakles sounds very irritated for a second, but when he raises his head and looks at Antonio, his expression is blank as usual.
There's another very awkward minute of silence. Well, awkward for Antonio, Herakles just looks at him.
Antonio can't really remember what they talked about afterwards - the sense of unpleasant, sticky humidity that had followed him since morning had become even more thick, fogging up his brain, making him feel seasick, until he had to excuse himself, feeling like he was going to puke if he remained one minute more in that house.
That house - the other house of his childhood, all familiar smells and angles he could avoid in the dark, Nonno's familiar face smiling at him as usual - and Romano's glaring absence filling the rooms.
Outside, however, the sensation hasn't passed - he feels restless, and before he knows it his feet are walking. He recognizes the road as the one to Nenè's old place only when he's halfway to it.
Good, he thinks, I wanted to talk with Romano, and tries to suffocate the small voice telling him Romano wouldn't want to talk with him with his usual cheer. It doesn't quite work.
Nenè's place rests alone, a bit away from the small town, just where the steep road takes one last large curve before disappearing into the beach. It's a big, drafty wooden barrack, surrounded by tall pine trees and thick vegetation on all sides, except the one giving towards the beach, which is almost completely open to carry keels in and out, and the smell of sea, resin and tar mix in a heady way. It tugs at Antonio's heartstrings, reminding him of thousands of days passed playing in all the precious hidden places between here and the city.
The cats are new, thought.
He hears the familiar noise of metal biting wood when he comes closer - somebody is in there, working - but no voices, which makes him hope it's just one person. If only he could catch Romano alone...
The moment he pokes his head in the barrack, he finds out he's only half lucky.
Herakles doesn't even seem to notice him for a long minute, and Antonio is starting to think he could maybe go away unnoticed and try to catch Romano on the way there, when he finally murmurs, without raising his head, "Look, either go away or enter. This is a delicate part of the job".
Antonio deflates, the vague chill he has been feeling for the whole day finally replaced by confusion. "...what?"
"I need it to see. You're blocking it."
Antonio blinks.
Herakles sighs very deeply, and Antonio has another sudden attack of acute dislike for him. "You are blocking the light by standing there. Please move away."
Antonio huffs and steps in, too irritated to realize this means being in the same room with Herakles. "You could have just said so!"
"I just did."
"Well you weren't really clear, were you? Especially if you mutter and look somewhere else while you speak!"
"Fine!" Herakles sounds very irritated for a second, but when he raises his head and looks at Antonio, his expression is blank as usual.
There's another very awkward minute of silence. Well, awkward for Antonio, Herakles just looks at him.
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