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Chapter 3

The Dream

"Spider's Web..."

Found it, finally! This is supposed to be the club, not really my cup of tea, hopefully at least the beer is decent.

I usually don't like to judge by appearances, but these guys out here look like they've been out of jail for no more than a couple of hours. What the hell was I thinking coming to this place? At least they were in a group, but I'm venturing out on my own. The good thing is that there is a queue and... why is this human mountain staring at me? Indifference, Davide, don't look at him, show indifference...

I lower my gaze and rummage through the pockets of my leather jacket pretending to look for something, then with a distracted air I cast a fleeting glance at the man. Damn, he must be at least 6'2" and 130 kilos and he keeps staring at me. A deafening roar gives me the excuse to turn my eyes on the road... the black Harley! Could it be her? I capture all the details of the scene. She parks the bike on the sidewalk near the others. She takes off her helmet and whips the air with her long hair. It's really her! I quickly try to take cover so as not to be noticed and use the giant in front as a shield. I watch her while she gets off the bike like an elegant panther and with a confident step she heads towards the club. The hiding place works very well, she passes me without seeing me. She goes straight to the entrance and greets the security man, who lets her in immediately after a nod.

"Nice bike, isn't it?"

Aroused by the scene, I catch the words coming from above. It's Cyclops, who with a grimace that should summon a smile, tries to interact with me.

"Wh... what?" I stutter, taken aback.

"The Harley. It's a stunner! Sure, in a woman's hand it's wasted, but at least she's holding it together."

"Yeah, she's a real gem," I reply shyly.

"I'm sorry I was staring at you before, but you look incredibly like a friend of mine and I thought you were him. Your name wouldn't happen to be Caesar?" He rubs his hand over his thick beard and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm not him."

I keep looking at the front of the line, trying to catch a glimpse of something at the entrance.

"This is your first time at the Canvas, isn't it?"

I humour him with a nod.

"Fridays are always like this. In fact, the line is sometimes twice as long, but it's worth it, believe me!"

"Yes, I have no doubt about that."

"Of course, it would be nice to be like Angela, to arrive and get in right away, but..."

Stop, what was her name?

"Angela? Are you referring to the biker girl?"

If he knows her I'll play the lottery tomorrow.

"Of course! She's the dancer. I come here mostly to see her dancing. She's stunner!"

Okay, I jump off the diving board and jump in. Hopefully there's enough water.

"Do you think I could meet her? I mean, talk to her even for a second?"

I'm starting to think I haven't really thrown the night away.

"You're a connoisseur, huh? Ha! Ha!" He laughs guff wily and pats me on the back that crushes me. Tomorrow I'm going for an x-ray.

"I could, but I warn you: that one's a special kind, it's hard to interest her, she's on another level!"

Yes, for someone like you I have no doubt.

"I'll take my chances. What's your name?"

Better to make friends with him than like anything else.

"Franco, glad to meet you. But to my friends Buba."

At the risk of dying, I swear if his name had been Goliath, I would have burst out laughing in his face. He wipes his sweaty hand on his jeans and hands it to me.

"I'm Davide, nice to meet you...Buba."

I repress all my disgust at shaking that calloused big hand.

In the meantime the line has moved on and we are in front of the door.

The bouncer looks at us, or rather looks at Buba, since the two are about the same height.

"Nice, Buba, right on time as hell again tonight."

"Like every shitty Friday, bro'!"

Just conventions.

"Is this with you?" He points at me like he would a Chihuahua and while he waits for the answer he whispers into his earpiece, giving himself the airs of a CIA agent.

"Sure! Can we come in?" Buba smiles at me, giving me a satisfied nudge with her elbow.

"Please, come in, Friday night is 10 euros: show and first drink included."

At least the price is reasonable.

We pay at the cashier and they issue us a free pass for the exit.

As soon as we enter, a shockwave of music and stench overwhelms me. It takes several minutes to get my ear used to other sounds. While I'm wading around definitely lost, Buba draws my attention pointing upwards. I follow his finger-wurst with my eyes. There are some sort of cages hanging from the ceiling, with some very flashy cubists in them, moving in a sexy way, but I don't see Angela.

"Where's Angela?" I yell to my new friend.

"She'll be here soon, don't worry! In the meantime, let's go to the bar and get a plug!"

I follow him into the crowd, as he high-fives and greets practically half the club.

By some strange miracle, when we arrive there are two free stools and the music seems less loud, or at least it's already so much that I can hear my own thoughts!

We're served two mugs of beer and toast.

"You don't seem like the type who frequents these clubs often. How come you're here?"

I look down at his mug, which, after the first sip, is already less than halfway full.

"A friend recommended it to me who couldn't make it and asked me to say hi to Angela."

I throw it at her. He stares at me silently in that weird way of his. He takes another sip of his beer and taps the empty mug on the bar. I try to imitate him and almost choke on it.

"Come on, I'll take you to her before she gets in the cages!"

I think he's doing it more for him than for me, so he has a good excuse to talk to her. I set down the tankard and follow him again into that torrent of people.

We arrive on a platform, under the cages. They look like freight elevators. We wait a few moments. A curtain on the wall opens and there she appears! She looks at me surprised to see me and stops; this confirms my hypothesis that she recognized me. Buba makes herself known.

"Hi, Angela!"

Like a teenager he went all red in the face, proving that even Yeti's have feelings.

"Hi, Buba." She walks up to him and greets him with two little kisses on his cheeks. That's enough to send Buba into a parallel dimension. Instead he turns his back on me, trying to ignore me.

"I came to introduce you to a friend who wanted to meet you."

She points at me. Now, my beautiful Angela, you can't pretend you didn't.

She unwillingly turns around and extends her hand to me.

"Hi Angel, I'm Davide."

First shot fired: I called her Angel. She remains silent, then detachedly looks at me mockingly.

"Nice to meet you..."

She turns back to Buba, but I notice that she keeps me under control with a wary and alarmed look.

"So? I'm still waiting for you to free up one night to go out to dinner like you promised."

Damn, he' s really marking her tight.

"You're right, I'm sorry. But you know very well that I'm messed up right now! Come on, let's talk about it calmly next time, they're waiting for me now."

Cleared as an ice cube in the oven.

"Sorry!" I tackle her.

"Before you leave, I wanted to ask you a few things about Roberto..."

"Who?" Questioning air. She sounds sincere.

"Roberto? Does Lilim ring a bell?"

Come on, don't pretend. Remember? The idiot from the ritual...

"I don't know who you're talking about, I think you've confused me with someone else. Sorry, but I really have to go."

She unwraps me like candy. I contain my pissed off and hold her arm with one hand.

"Listen to me, baby: I don't know what the hell you two have been up to, but know that Roberto is in the hospital reduced to a human larva, maybe even because of you! You're the last person who saw him in a decent condition and you know what he did to get like this! Do you have a shred of conscience?"

Buba's huge hand presses one of my shoulders.

"Hey, man! Don't you think you're overreacting?"

End of a friendship.

Hers is peaceful advice to let go. She lowers her gaze in mortification. I release my grip and calm down. Then with a sigh I turn to Buba.

"I don't hold it against her. But she's the only one who can give me answers and I know she has them!"

"What if she doesn't want to give them to you?" I could always pull her hair, like a good caveman would, until she spoke.

"No, Buba, wait. He's right, she's entitled to some answers." Oh! We finally made it!

"Anyway, I'm not the last one to see him before... before he got sick." Her voice trembles.

"Weren't you the pretty brunette from the chat room meeting?"

"No, I didn't go that night. Lilim... Roberto had told me about it and I was very worried."

"Worried about what?" If I had a nymphomaniac like that!

"I told him not to do it... but that stubborn man wouldn't listen to me!"

"Do? Do what?" I press curiously.

She almost makes to answer, when a woman's croaky voice interrupts her.

"Well? Angela, are you moving or are you going on strike tonight?"

"Yes, yes! I'll be right there, excuse me." I turn around. There's a woman in her early years who looks like an arm wrestler.

"She's the owner! I have to go or she'll fire me. Do you have a cell phone?"

"Yes..." I pull it out of my pocket and hand it to her.

She grabs it with her tapered hands and quickly types a number on the keypad. She presses enter and hangs up to memorize it.

"This is my number, call me tomorrow after 5pm! Bye."

With that said, she runs over to the open cage, locks it from the inside, and pushes a button that makes it slowly rise to the ceiling.

"Bye, Angela!" Buba, with his little hand, greets her as she climbs without deigning him a response.

I remain staring at that beautiful moving maiden as I think back to the enigmatic phrases she threw at me.

I'm watching Buba as he tries to peek at the number she has dialed on my cell phone, which I'm absent-mindedly holding with the display facing up. Realizing I'm looking at it, he turns around with an angelic look. I smile at the pathetic scene, but think that in her place, maybe I would have done the same.

"He must be something very important, to have left you his number. She's never given it to me in two years."

Maybe because she's more sane than she seems?

"Well, yes, it's a very touchy matter!"

But don't be jealous gorilla.

"Can I give you my number in case you want to go on a double date with one of her friends?"

This one is worse than a pit bull that won't let go.

"Of course, but be warned: I'm not trying to hook up with her, I just need her help."

Is he going to get in your fat head?

"Yeah, yeah, sure! I was just saying that, just saying..."

Okay, let's exchange this number so you can go to bed tonight happily ever after.

Finally home, another ten minutes in that club with Buba and I would have had to do a liver transplant. How do some guys always drink like that? I'm so woozy from the beers that I can't even take stock of the situat....

I jolt awake. I quickly and abruptly turn my head left and right. Shocked, I look for something that isn't there. I realize that sweat has totally soaked my hair and is now running down my face.

I wipe my face with my hands to get rid of that annoying itchy feeling.

It's not just this that irritates me, but the dream. That damn dream that for a quarter is still stuck in my mind. To put it better, it's the unpleasant feeling of anguish that has left me, also because I don't really remember a damn thing.

I get up and gently rub the knuckles of my aching hand. I look at them: they're red as if I'd punched something... or someone!

Flash.

I find myself in an alley in an unfamiliar neighbourhood. Behind me there are two buildings closing at an angle as if they were that of a ring.

Flash.

It's the middle of the night and in the distance I hear the roar of what could be a river.

Flash.

Something is changing, I don't think I'm alone anymore.

Flash.

Certainty. There's a shadow peering at me: it's menacing!

It looks like a crawling figure. It quickly approaches and assaults me. Instinct makes me raise my arm as a shield. It doesn't look human. It is hairy and smells terrible. With one hand I squeeze its hairy neck as I see, from its gaping jaws, sharp canines pointing at my throat. A full moon slowly makes its way through the clouds and illuminates the creature: it's a big black wolf. An atavistic terror envelops me and with my fist I desperately try to strike the animal's muzzle. With every moment my resistance weakens and the deadly fangs get closer.

Then, suddenly a mighty whistle breaks through. The beast is distracted and I take the opportunity to push it away with a shove, using my last strength. It works.

With a leap I get back up and wobbly I try not to fall back to the ground. I stiffen my muscles, ready for a new attack. But the wolf doesn't move and turns his head backwards, intent on staring at a motionless figure that fades into the horizon. It is a woman with long hair, moved by an imperious wind that envelops her. She raises an arm and makes a gesture of call. The wolf obeys immediately. I look at that distant woman and I don't know how, although I can't see her face, I perceive that she is smiling at me, while the animal, at the end of the run, crouches at her feet with docile reverence. With an elegant and decisive step he comes towards me. The wolf stands up and follows her like a silent guardian. Petrified, I watch the scene. My heart begins to beat rapidly: Tum! Tum! Tum! Now I hear the beats echoing like drums in the air: Tum! Tum! Tum! Tum! They increase with each step of the woman: Tum! Tum! Tum! Tum! Tum! Tum! She's pretty close, but I can't see her features yet: Tum! Tum! Tum! Tum! Tum! Tum! Tum! Tum! Everything becomes blurry, my legs become soft as wax in the fire and I collapse on my knees. I try, squinting my eyes, to make the scene clearer, but the oppressive darkness catches me: Tum... Tum... Tum... and my heart gradually slows down before exploding.

Flash!

As if coming out of a long apnea, I let out a loud sigh. I smile as I recognize the room where I've spent so many nights.

Would you look at that dream! Damn alcohol!

Chapter 4

Angela

I keep moving up and down the room, thinking of a thousand and one possible scenarios of what could have happened: the absurd ones far outnumber the normal ones.

I look at the clock for the umpteenth time: 17:15. I really think I could call her now.

The phone rings: once, twice, three times... come on, damn it, what are you waiting for to answer!

Fifth ring: "Hi, I'm not home at the moment, if you want you can leave a message..."

And no, damn, another damn answering machine! Come on, let's talk like a moron with this thing.

"...beep!"

"Hi Angela, it's Davide. We met last night at the club...sorry, but you said to call you after five. When you come back you can call me anytime at 06..."

What the hell! I hung up the phone unnerved, both by Angela's absence and by the feeling of complete idiocy that envelops me every time I talk to an answering machine; and I was hoping they had become extinct like dinosaurs!

By way of ballast I throw myself heavily into the chair. Hypnotized, I follow the hand of the pendulum, which inexorably marks the minutes. It's not one of the best pastimes, but it works.

6:20 p.m.

Driin! Driin!

I make a quick dash toward the device. The edge of the table finds me unprepared and I hit it with my shin. Pain in the ass.

"Hello?"

"Hi Davide, it's Angela. I just got in the house, my daughter Elisa has been wasting my time around, sorry to keep you waiting."

"No worries, I've had a few things to do myself anyway..." Like stare at the pendulum for about an hour.

"I've been thinking all day about the fact that my behaviour toward Roberto has not been very fair. Partly I feel guilty for what happened to him, but mostly because, out of fear, I abandoned him when he needed it."

"I'm sorry, Angela, but I'm a little confused, what really happened to him? I would need you to tell me everything from the beginning. Would you be willing?" I try to be calm, but in fact mine is not really a question.

"Yes, you're right, it's better to start everything from the beginning, but I'd rather talk to you about it in person. I don't live very far from the Canvas, would you like to meet me at home?"

"Sure, that can be arranged."

As he gives me directions, I can't help but smile at the thought of Buba and the blow he'd get if he only learned about the appointment.

It takes me ten minutes to get to my destination and twenty to find a decent parking spot that is discreetly out of the obsessive reach of some easy-pencilled vigilante and/or auxiliary with the sensitivity of a hungry crocodile. Maybe I exaggerated, hungry crocodiles are much more sensitive.

I ring the doorbell and a cheeky little voice asks me who I am. This should be the daughter.

"I'm Davide, a friend of mom's. Is she home?"

She'd be missed.

"Wait a moment, I'll go ask her if she's in."

Perfect secretary sorting visits.

A sound of deadbolts makes me assume that Mom has answered that she is home.

The door opens and the figure of a maybe three-foot gnome appears, her arms clasped at her sides.

"You're lucky, Mom said she's there and you can come in. She's in the bathroom right now, go ahead and have a seat."

She points to the doorway with her hand as she catches her breath from the long sentence she just displayed.

I thank her and smiling I enter the house. I notice that she looks at me grimly. All of her mother.

"Well? How long does it take you to say that?"

The first Gift of children is to displace adults.

"Say what?" I ask her curiously.

"Like what? You have to say: excuse me?. Mom always says that when you enter someone else's home, you have to ask for permission!"

The second Gift, is to make them uncomfortable.

"Elisa!"

Saved in the corner by mom Angela who, despite having the towel tied around her still wet hair, appears in all her glory.

"Sorry about her, but when she gets into it she's awful! Now be a good girl and go to your room and play, and the gentleman and I will sit in the lounge and talk."

With a polite pout, she obeyed and walked to her room.

"Good, now we can talk quietly. Would you like some iced tea?" I humour her and make myself comfortable on the couch.

She is tense, I think the tea is more for her than for me.

She returns to me after a few moments, carrying a tray with an iced pitcher of tea and two glasses. Angela's shaky gait almost makes me bet on a disastrous end of the tray on the floor. Luckily I'm wrong and I manage to sip a little. It's homemade: too much lemon and not enough sugar, ideal for a woman like her who always has to keep in shape. I don't want to press her, but I have to find a way to get her going. Let's start with the basics.

"Have you known Roberto long?"

She unties the towel from her hair and begins to gently dry it, patting it dry.

"Not long, but just long enough to say that he's a good person and that maybe I should have helped him...or at least, insisted that he not make the mistake he did." I frown at such mystery.

"Did he use any particular drugs?"

We begin the elimination game.

"Drugs? Who, Roberto?" She smiles in amazement.

First guess eliminated.

"I don't think he even knows what drugs look like," she adds to punctuate.

"I see, but then explain to me how he got that way?"

She picks up a cigarette and nervously lights it.

"Do you believe in the existence of good and evil? In the sense of a physical embodiment of the thing, I mean?" She's damn serious.

"I don't know, I've never had a chance to personally test either one." What's your point?

"Well, I am, and so is Roberto, at least the part about evil." I raise my eyebrows.

"You don't think I'm entirely sane, do you?" You'd have to give me at least a little sketchy, though.

"I'm not used to judging without having a broad view..." Go with the courtesy.

"Maybe it would be better if I told you how things went from the beginning." Hoping at least that there's a more earthy, less mystical logic to it.

"Back in the day, before Elisa was born, my husband and I were not having a happy marital time. Perhaps precisely because children are a glue for a family and we didn't have any yet. Anyway, to break the boredom, or just to forget the now daily fights, we went to all sorts of parties that were organized, sometimes even by strangers." All good living.

"One night, I don't even really remember who invited us, we attended one of them, where there was an obligation to wear a mask for the entire party. Believe me, it wasn't even among the strangest of requests."

I dare not imagine the others.

"We went to a villa with the usual dull enthusiasm that had reigned between us for some time now, with the only difference being that during the trip we had not yet quarrelled once. On the contrary, my husband, Diego, drove in reserved silence, aided by the three glasses of whiskey he had already drunk at home."

Odd that you got there safely.

"The party itself didn't differ from those of previous weekends: music, buffet, Diego still drinking, Diego being silly with everyone in his way, and me trying to pretend everything was going right."

Basically a nightmare.

"Basically the usual nightmare." Exactly.

"I'd knocked back my martini fix, too, but I could control myself better. Out of the blue, what was supposed to be the hostess announced that the hour was upon us and the real soul of the party was about to begin. Having said that, she urged us to follow her and we all went to what at first seemed to be the cellars of the villa, but then we realized it was the exit to a large room."

Sipping more tea, we are about to get into the thick of the story.

"There was music in that room too, but it had changed, it almost sounded like classical music. I looked for my husband and noticed that he was stranger than usual, but I didn't think anything of it, I thought about the alcohol. The music suddenly stopped and everyone, as if following a well-designed script, first stopped and then arranged themselves in a circle. I began to worry when I realized that I was at the centre of this human chain. I thought it was some sort of prank and didn't want to show my discomfort." In your place I would have run like hell!

"Perhaps, I told myself, I had missed something of the landlady's speech, and so I made to enter the circle too, but every attempt of mine was thwarted and unknown hands pushed me inwards. It quickly went from simple annoyance to outright concern as everyone began chanting a strange litany. Tired, I angrily took off my mask and started railing against everyone in front of me, repeating in a firm voice that I didn't like that kind of game and that I wanted to leave, but no one gave me an answer: they seemed to be in a trance state." I remain silent, astonished, listening to the continuation of that incredible story, so reminiscent of Eyes Wide Shut, and I try to imagine its conclusion.

"When I decided to break the barricade I was slapped violently by a guy and then pushed to the ground in the general indifference. I began to cry in despair, calling for my husband's help..."

She hastily wipes away a tear she couldn't control. I fully understand that such a memory must not be pleasant.

"...When I spotted him in the crowd, I was incredulous to see that not only was that bastard doing nothing to help me, but that he was in cahoots with everyone else!"

"Do you think they plagiarized him, or drugged him in some way?"

I interrupt the story, only because sometimes memories can become more vivid than they should, and it seems like a good point to bring her back to the present time in part.

"Clearly something had been done to him, because his gaze was practically blank!"

It worked, she seems to have calmed down.

"I was on the ground with no strength, they had probably drugged me too. Diego came up to me and picked me up like I was weightless. There was a moment when I thought he was taking me out of there, but I was quickly disillusioned when I saw that he was walking on the opposite side of the exit, towards the centre of the room. Stunned, I realized that I had been placed on an altar only when I saw my clothes, torn with force, flying on the ground."

He looks up and stares at me coldly.

"He raped me in front of everyone, as if nothing had happened." Speechless.

"Eventually I must have blacked out, because all I remember is waking up in a wooded clearing covered only in the shreds of the clothes I had on at the party." Satanic cult stuff.

"I take it you filed a complaint." Husband or not, I would have sent them all to jail and more.

"Of course. Too bad, though, that they all disappeared! Including Diego, who I haven't seen since. God knows how long I looked for him, but in vain. Not for nothing, but just for the sake of smashing his face in!" More than fair.

"And the owners of the villa? Didn't they track them down?"

"From the investigation it turned out that they had moved to the Canary Islands for more than two years, without ever having returned to Italy, and that for six months they had entrusted a real estate agency with the sale of the villa. Six years have passed and now everything has fallen into oblivion."

Six years! Am I wrong or is that more or less how old little Elisa should be? She reads the question in my face and I don't have time to formulate it.

"Yes, Davide, Elisa was conceived that night. She is the only good thing in my life."

Certainly a tragic experience, but I still don't understand how this story can connect to Roberto.

"I had long since, if not forgotten, at least put that day in a corner, until I met Roberto in a chat room."

"The spirits, I guess."

"You know it?"

Right, the one made up of the exhausted group.

"Vaguely... Roberto had told me about it once."

Lately lying is becoming more and more natural to me, maybe I'll run for office in the next election.

"I had started dating her thanks to a friend who had almost forced me, but for Roberto it had become a mania: he was looking for particular information."

"What kind of information?" I pretend to be oblivious to the whole Lilith myth thing. I want to see if he's hiding something from me.

"There's one detail I left out in the story earlier..."

She hesitates. Come on, tell me the whole truth, just the truth.

"When I was in the mansion and those fools were chanting that strange litany, they were doing it to invoke Lilith: the black goddess." Bingo! The stories are finally channelled on the same track.

"Have you ever heard of it?"

If you're referring to that nonsense I read on the PC, yes!

"I know roughly the story..."

"Good, then you'll save me from talking about it. Anyway, the fact is that Roberto's obsession was actually Lilith."

And here I thought it was you who had stupefied him.

"He confided in me privately about the strange dreams he was having. For my part, however, the recondite hope of knowing what had happened to Diego pushed me to delve into the subject.

I thought Roberto might be a link in solving my mystery."

If there weren't idiots on this world....

"He never told me about it. What kind of dreams did he have?"

As I formulate the question, I think of my own and a slight shiver runs down my spine.

"He said they were always fuzzy when they woke up, except for Lilith's name, which invariably rang out in the darkness." That he drank my own beer?

"I provided him with all the material I had collected over time about Lilith. There were also instructions in the handouts to perform an invocation ritual, but I strongly advised him against it."

"Let me guess: he didn't rest until he did it, did he?" I know the chicken and she lights the bonfire for the spit.

"He had convinced himself that only through ritual could he bring to the surface something that was inside him, but which he could not yet bring into focus."

Wouldn't it be better to pay for a good psychologist?

"With the excuse that everything had to be prepared in the right way, I convinced him to at least do it in my presence. In doing so, I hoped to slowly dissuade him."

"What happened during the ritual?"

At least he burned himself with a candle.

"I couldn't witness it." She lowered her gaze.

"Why? He wouldn't let you anymore?"

"Not him...but the man who threatened me. I got a phone call in the middle of the night. He told me he knew everything about me and my daughter; where we lived and especially what I was trying to do, finally advising me to forget everything and disappear from Roberto's life forever. I don't know who he was or why he did it, I only know that the threat was far from veiled and I was scared to death." Another conundrum.

"I only found the courage to phone Roberto one last time to warn him. I was terrified and didn't tell him anything about the threats, but I think he understood that something wasn't right. I begged him to drop everything and said goodbye, doing as the man had told me."

With the responsibility of a daughter, she's hardly to blame.

"Not entirely, though. It was you on the bike the night I had him committed, wasn't it?"