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Читать онлайн «Blood Curse»

Автор Маурицио де Джованни

That was when Tonino made up his mind that, unless he made an effort, unless he reached out for something better, they’d all soon be on the road to hunger. And, even though no one dared to say it outright, everyone was feeling poorer these days. More and more, people were filling their bellies with whatever they could scrape together at home. His customers were dwindling, and with the eight-day pizza plan-eat today and pay next week-many ate on credit, and then dropped out of sight.

That’s when it occurred to him that rich people could still afford to go out to eat, and that rich people wanted to sit down to enjoy their meal, to listen to the parking attendant serenade them on his mandolin, to eat, drink, and make merry. The old blacksmith and farrier in Vicolo San Tommaso was about to retire, and he was giving up his place. Two long tables and one small one would fit in the space-maybe he could even fit in a second small table. To start out, he’d make the pizzas and Concetta could wait tables; then, when business picked up, Mario, the eldest, could pitch in.

Having gathered together his mother’s savings and borrowed every last lira he could from his other family members and friends, he was still short by a considerable sum. He’d sold his pizza cart, so there was certainly no turning back. And so a friend of his told him there was an old woman in the Sanità quarter who was willing to lend money long term, at a low rate of interest.

He went to see her and he talked her into it. He was good at talking people into things, and better still at persuading old women. He’d gotten the money he needed, and now six months had gone by since his pizzeria had opened for business.

Everyone he knew came to the grand opening-relatives, friends, and passing acquaintances. Not the old woman, though; she had told him she never liked to leave the house. Everyone came and everyone ate their fill, that day and the next. It would bring good luck, and he hadn’t charged them a cent.

The only problem was that after that the friends and relatives stopped coming around.

Tonino understood that envy wounds more than scoppettate, musketballs. That was what the old people said, and the old people knew what they were talking about. Sure, every now and then someone would pass by and stop in, but the pizzeria wasn’t on a main thoroughfare. You had to know about it to get there-and no one seemed to know about it. As the days passed, and as the months hurried along after them, it dawned on Tonino that he’d been a fool: he’d spent too much money setting up and getting ready to open, money that he’d never see again. After three months, the old woman had extended the loan for two more, this time at a higher rate of interest. Then she’d given him one last extension, just one month this time, shouting him out of her apartment. She warned him that this was the final deadline. He would have to pay her what he owed.

Tonino swung open his own front door and Lucietta leapt into his arms, covering him with kisses; she was always the first to hear him come home. He hugged her tight and, with a smile stamped on his face, he strode in to face the rest of his family. He felt his heart tighten in his chest. The promissory note was coming due tomorrow, and for the last time. And he didn’t even have half the money he owed.