Trafika Europe 14 - Italian Piazza

Lessons in Torture and Seduction

moment stops the flow of blood in my body. I can’t not look at him. I can’t not look at him and the two adults. Probably with a surly look. The “loving” father grabs him by the shoulder bone, nearly l ifting him off the ground. “Go over to your sister right now. She’s a girl so she gets pink and you’re a boy and you get blue. It ’s normal. Tel l her if she puts up a fight, I’m going to handle the situation.” Then he yanks on his arm and says, “ Vai , you l ittle shit! You have to learn how to handle women.” Once again I’m with Nurse Beppe, a grizzled type who sports a fake tan. He scrutinizes me. The loving father, for his part, ignores me. Now I have the bottle of fizzy San Benedetto water in my hand, and it feels l ike some kind of magic wand. My face muscles quickly contort into a fake smi le, ready to say, “Good night.” But instead I walk away without saying anything. Now I’m feel ing bothered, plagued by a hidden thought that I’m sti l l unable to articulate. I feel contaminated by what I heard these two say, and I force myself to think about Dottore Rombini to steady myself. But as I turn the corner, it ’s as if I’m imagining things. I hear, “Later, if we’re not too busy, we’l l go to the

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