A NIGHT WANDERING AMONG GRAVES

A NIGHT WANDERING AMONG GRAVES

We decided we would come in as soon as it was dark. And as soon as we arrived, what a surprise. We thought we had to climb over the surrounding wall, or to force the door, to enter, instead it was enough to push the gate door, then the access door settled between the surrounding walls, and we were able to enter. “ But how? Shouldn’t it be closed at night? Yet, there is a keeper” I said. “ Ah, he will have forgotten to close, or he will have lost the keys. Ah, by the way, they say that this guy…the caretaker is drunk from morning to evening” Roby said.

Roby and I have decided to spend this night, a night of full moon, in the cemetery which is located out of the city, in a rather desert countryside area.

Roby is my brother, my twin brother. Ah, we, Roby and I, are a fair, complete denial for everything that is affirmed about twins, for everything that everyone believes about twins, who would be identical not only physically but also in the soul, to so speak, also in the way of feeling, of thinking, and that they, twins, would be very attached each other. For me and Roby, instead, it is quite the opposite.

Of course, physically we are almost identical, interchangeable each other. But otherwise ( for the rest) we are more than opposites, indeed we are just incompatible. We are perpetually in conflict each other, and we are continually attacking each other, and denying each other, and getting in trouble each other. Roby claims that we are so opposite, indeed incompatible, since, even if we are twins, we have different fathers. Roby affirms, and he seems to believe firmly it, that neither of us is the son of the man who appears to be our father in the register office, and (he claims) that each of us was instead conceived by our mother with one of her lovers, each of us with a different lover of hers.                                                                           The cemetery is quite wide, with a cobblestone road , running lengthwise through it, dividing it in half, into two parts of almost the same size. The cemetery land is almost entirely occupied by graves, only an area near the entrance remains free and available for new burials. In this kind of meadow there is a pit (grave) already dug, waiting for the coffin. Near the pit there is a pile of earth , that will be used to fill again the dig, to cover the burial.

Roby starts walking around the pit, his hands into his coat pockets , he keeps his gaze down into the pit. “ Look, we could feel the thrill of being buried alive. Do you feel like trying this extraordinary experience? “ he asks. “ But not really! Not absolutely! I will be buried dead, I don’t want to be buried alive, not at all. “ I answer, not without feeling irritated and also, I must admit, almost frightened, for Roby proposal. For a terrible moment a thought has crossed my mind: but look, he is going to kill me and, he intends to ensure that his crime is considered a game, a joke.

“Oh, but what a coward! Instead I could like to try….ah, who knows what one feels like to be buried alive!” Roby proclaims loudly, his hands stuck into his coat pockets, his face outstretched up, as if he were fund his gaze on the full moon, which appears and disappears under the big clouds moving in the sky. The full moon casts flickering blue shadows on us, and even on the graves.                                                                                The statues standing on the graves, mostly statues of angels, when they are struck by the light of the moon, they seem are moving, giving the impression to be alive.

“ Listen to me! Let’s do this: I go into the pit, then you take the shovel and cover the pit, that is , you fill the pit with earth. Then, what do you think about this? “ Roby says in an excited voice, in an exalted tone, He seems to cry out to the moon rather than asking me.

“ Oh, I don’t even talk about it! “ I reply, more and more irritated- “ If I don’t want to be buried alive, I don’t even want to bury someone else alive, on!”

“ Ah, then what did we come here, to the cemetery, to do…eh? I seem to remember we wanted to spend the whole night here….Will we sleep among the graves? Or will we spend the night telling each other jokes ?” Roby asks, rather piqued, sarcastic. Not only does he speak in a harsh, annoyed voice, even his face_____ I can glimpse it clearly , albeit for a very brief moment, when it is illuminated by the light of the moon____has a frown, grime expression.                       Now the soft, velvet light of the moon is beating on the hands of the marble angel standing on a grave. It seems to me to remember that it is the grave of a girl who died stabbed. The marble angel hands are outstretched, as if to point at someone or something being in front of the angel.

Now on the ground, near the grave, a pigeon is passing by, almost in front of the marble angel.

“ Oh, look how strange….a pigeon at this hour walking around the cemetery. I thought pigeons slept at night” I say.  “ Ah, we see that this is a sleepless pigeon” Roby declares.” Do you know what Pamela claims about pigeons?” he asks. Pamela is one of the many women with whom Roby has a good time. She is married, like almost all the women he frequents. Roby knows how much I disapprove his love affairs with women who have husbands and also children. Why is he talking about Pamela , now? Does he want to provoke me?

“ Then, don’t you want to know what Pamela believes about pigeons?” Roby presses on.

“ Pamela is convicted that dead souls transmigrate in pigeons….she believes that pigeons which approach us, they are dead people who have been dear to us. Oh, but are you listening…?”

“ You know that I don’t like the ease with which you talk about your…about the women you hang out with “ I can’t help but say, in an irritated tone.

“ But listen to him! He begins to lecture me even at this time of night, here in the cemetery!” Roby shouts.

We hear a shot, and, after an instant of silence, other shots following in rapid succession.

The pigeon does not fly away, how strange. Then it maybe because the pigeon is wounded, perhaps because he has a broken wing. Who knows if he cannot really be the reincarnated soul of someone who was murdered…..I have just time to think this, that Roby starts screaming: “ They shoot! They shoot! They want to kill me! They will kill me!” Screaming, he runs away among the graves. I run after him until I can see him, who seems, keeping on running, to be not able to find the exit of the cemetery. Then suddenly I don’t see him anymore, as if he had disappeared, had vanished. I call him out loud, my ringing voice rises so high that it seems to me to reach the moon. But Roby does not respond. I look for him, wandering among the graves. I keep on looking for him all night. He’s not there, he is gone. Yet, he didn’t come out of the cemetery.

The following morning, into a car parked near the cemetery, a man and a woman will be found killed. They were two clandestine lovers, both being married.