Doubts From The Past

Antonio De Vito

DOUBTS FROM THE PAST

To my wife Stefania and my daughters Elisa and Chiara,

with all the love I can,

In memory of my parents Luisa and Raffaele.

DUBBI DAL PASSATO Copyright © 2014 Antonio De Vito First edition: Aprile 2014 English edition: March 2017 Translator: Eva Melisa Mastroianni

Publisher: Tektime – www.traduzionelibri.it

facebook: https://www.facebook.com/antoniodevitoautore

e-mail: devito.a@libero.it

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, including by any mechanical or electronic system, without the written permission of the editor, except for brief passages taken for the purposes of review.

Any resemblance to persons or actual events is purely coincidental.

Preface

Probably none had seen him getting out from that house.

While walking at a slow pace, staring into space, everything seemed to give him room.

A superhuman effort seemed to put a strain on Sam's eyes. His green eyes seemed turned off and were staring at the ground. The legs were barely proceeding ahead one for the other, though following a marked path. His arms were relaxed; his fists were open; now the veins had stopped pulsing like rivers in flood. His head down let fall forward part of his thick hair and out from the mouth, with each breath; a big cloud of smoke enveloped his head for a few moments. He was an exhausted man. Now he just needed help.

-1-

Sam was a tall and stout man, with that kind of green eyes which don't leave you indifferent. He had a beautiful body, even though he had never spent a great deal of time on himself, in fact.

Since Stacy had made it clear that if he got a wiggle on his fate could finally change, he had tried to clean up his acts. He seriously believed in that story, though, it seemed to not be able to take flight. It had been two years now since the good days of College and it was necessary that Sam started looking for a serious job.

Stacy was a woman who knew what she wanted. It had been that way since she and Sam had met at Ohio State University and they had found out they were from the same country of Colorado.

The surprise of discovering they were fellow citizens had been just the beginning of an evening in front of a bottle of Chianti and ended like many others, lying in a bed or on a carpet in front of a fireplace still smoldering from the night before.

During College in Ohio, Sam and Stacie had never been two model students. It had immediately been bliss between them, since they met at one of the parties in the Campus. They saw things in the same way. Sam and Stacie loved to drink Italian wine and sometimes they exaggerated into a stupor. They loved to be on their own and especially if one of them had a problem the other one always knew how to solve it.

The college years, however, ended and left the two, Sam and Stacie, orphans of their dreams. Very soon the reality proved to be different from the small-time college days. Reality was waking up in the morning, as soon as possible to find a job and all those things which you don't really believe in, but a little accepted and a little suffered to avoid being crushed by everything around you at a pace often struggling to sustain.

Sam had left his family in Colorado to go to College in Ohio excited by what was happening to him. He was so excited that he wasted no time and during the years of study he found a way to make a living by cutting the grass and sometimes working part-time in a fast-food. He never had a chance to join the football team because of a physical problem which he didn't care about.

Unlike Sam, during College Stacie was able to live with fewer financial worries thanks to the study grants she could get and a small inheritance received after her grandmother's death.

The two lived together almost five years without ever worrying about what would happen to them one day. It was a true love like those in novels until when Sam decided it was time to cut off that relationship.

That evening Stacie was returning from work. She was working at a law firm not too far from home, but badly connected. She had always to walk a couple kilometers after getting off the subway. In autumn and with the rain it wasn't the best, especially if the rain helped in making a bumpy path.

"Hey Sam, are you here?" she wearily asked while taking off her raincoat,

"Hey Sam, do you think it's time for jokes?"

The lights were off, and Sam did not answer. So Stacie looked for the main switch and turned it on. At that moment the living room lit up and, while looking at the table, Stacie knew the reason of that darkness in a heartbeat. In one second Sam appeared from the kitchen door with a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.

"How can you not realize every time that it's a surprise? This way you're making this so much easier." Sam said smugly.

"I did not want to disappoint you, who know how much effort it would take to prepare all this.”Stacie replied with a hint of irony.

Regardless of the irony in Stacie's words, Sam went over to her and began to pour the wine. She drank it quickly as if it was the medicine that she was waiting for after a day of agony. For Sam, however, the reason of that greed was quite another, and in this misunderstanding background, an evening began which would have ended after a few hours under the covers of their bed.

The following morning Sam got up first. It was early, and after about ten minutes spent in deciding what to do, he put on his clothes, wrote a note which attacked at the mirror, quickly put on his coat and slipped out the door almost afraid that Stacie could wake up and see him go.

He had not a car, so he walked towards the metro which was a couple of kilometers away, but after only a few hundred meters he disappeared in the fog.

In the fireplace there were only smoldering ashes and it was really cold. A few moments after Sam shut the door, Stacie began to notice his absence. She rose from the bed and, using the cover to warm her up, she walked to the door quietly and still sleepy.

Near there, with still sleepy eyes, she saw the mirror in which Sam had placed the ticket shortly before.

Sam had no clear idea of exactly where to go, but that night he had decided that he would go away from home and from that city, and he would return only after arranging his life as Stacie asked for long time.

The fact that he had no clear idea was the only sure thing, as he was certain that he could not stay long without drinking at least one glass of wine.

He walked for hours aimlessly thinking back to all the time spent with Stacie and many years of passion; he thought about how everything had slowly gone dissolving. He could not stand the fact that once finished his studies, he had lost the energy and the desire to do that had enabled him to keep Stacie's pace so far.

It was getting late and Sam stopped at Wine Launge Brother on Cleveland Avenue where he used to share much of his time with Stacie. A place for wine lovers, studied in detail by the owner Sam's friend Harry. They had shared all the College with the only difference that Harry had quickly proved to know what he wanted to do and, shortly after the end of the studies, he devoted himself body and soul to his project.

“Harry today is a really weird fucking day. You really do know your wines. What do you recommend in this case?”

It's written on your face that it’s not a great day, but a good Italian red wine will make it much better.”

Harry knew Sam for a long time and knew his favorite flavors. He also knew that there was no fucking day in the world for Sam that a nice glass of Italian red wine couldn’t beat.

“Give me the best you have in the cellar because for a while you won’t see me around.”

“Hey, what do you do? You’re leaving and you’re telling me this with that face?”, in the meantime Harry was pouring some Red Lacrima Christi.

“I’m leaving alone.”

“After all, it could also be good news. But why are you leaving?” Harry said quite incredulous at the news that Stacie was not going with Sam.

“I don’t know, but here I can no longer stay”. And he drank again.

It was nighttime when he left the club and he was the last client. He walked straight ahead, after all, but Harry would not have bet a penny. Outside there was a taxi waiting for him; Harry had taken care to call him and also to pay it in name of the old friendship with Sam.

“To the airport!” It was the only thing Sam could say before of closing his eyes and rest his head backward.

-2-

Stacie grabbed the note stuck to the mirror and moments later her black eyes were clouded with tears that she could not hold back for the fact that once again Sam had more courage than her.

Yes, whereas for weeks Stacie kept wondering whether it was right to continue to drag the story that way, Sam instantly had decided to up and leave.

She had to sit down to try to tidy up the ideas that appeared confused like never before. All the certainties she had in her brain were crumbling like a sand castle.

Sam was not what it looked like, a weak man dominated by his indecision and fears. After all he had not thought a second before doing his suitcase and dumping her there alone in front of a note.

“I better get a move on,

Sam”.

Suddenly the sound of a telephone took Stacie’s petrified eyes off that note and almost running she rushed to the mobile to grab the phone.

“Hey, Stacie, are you all right? It’s all OK?”

“Mark, are you?” She had not even looked at the clock because of anxiety.

“Yes, who did you want to be? Don’t you know what time it is?”

“Sorry, I slept through my alarm, I’ll be soon, you’ll see” and she hung up.

But despite the call which should give Stacie a move on, she remained at least another half hour staring at that note while a confused series of images were flashing before her eyes and she was feeling mixed sensations of anger and remorse.

She tried to shake off the ballast and, wearing the first things she had found, she headed the office where Mark was waiting for her furious.

“This is not the way to repay those who gave you an opportunity like the one I gave you,” Mark thundered, slamming his fists on the table.

“I know I’m a little late but you know that’s not me” Stacie tried to justify herself.

“A little late!!!I am astonished. An hour ago the Bigalow hearing has begun and I had to send Peter who does not even know who is Bigalow!” Mark was beside himself.

Stacie tried to pull herself together and managed to say a sentence worthy of the attorney Stacie Scott that Mark had hired two years earlier:

“I reach him in court, in any case it was a cause already won, don’t worry.”

She had managed to lie with all her might, however, giving to who stood facing her the feeling to have matters into her own hands. That was her greatest quality, or she thought this until a few hours earlier, that is, until Sam's note started poking holes in all her certainties.

Sam arrived at the airport a little dormant but convinced of what he was doing. He had brought with him a few things, only the need for a day trip and not more. This meant that whatever had been the destination he had chosen it would have been one way. At the airport he took a look at the destinations of the the red-eye flights and decided to buy a ticket to New York, for no reason in particular.

Or maybe there was a reason to go to New York. Do what Stacie had not yet been able to do and maybe, who knows when, show her that he could live up to her and perhaps one day meet her again.

It would be worth doing almost 500 miles. He felt that the decision was fairer than ever.

The next day Sam was around New York: Park Avenue, Madison Avenue; after all, he thought, it hasn't been so hard. The best, however, was yet to come. Sam’s main anguish was about to reappear in his mind.

“Get a move on”

He kept telling himself like a Hail Mary.

He walked down Madison Av., looking around with a bewildered air, given the wild crowd on the sidewalks; he could not find a good reason for being so urgent to reach a taxi or subway stop. Yet, one of the reasons why Sam had left Cleveland and now he was right there in the midst of those people who barely avoided him, as if it were a simple obstacle on the road to whom to be careful not to trip, was to measure himself and find out for itself if he could withstand the lifestyle that Stacie loved and which she was so much aiming for.

Why a man should measure himself within an organized chaos like New York and cannot do it in Cleveland or anywhere else in the world, this was another torment that Sam was dragging on since the first angry discussions with Stacie. Unfortunately, the sense of frustration that Stacie was instilling in him ordered him to react that way, even though in his heart he was not entirely convinced it was the right way. After all he could not be convinced that leaving Stacie after seven years of passion could be the right choice, no matter what was the real reason for that choice.

While these and other thoughts overlapped in Sam's head, one of the many people who at 8am crowded the sidewalks of Madison Av. bumped into Sam causing him to fall on his knee. He had to stand with his left hand to the ground to avoid falling ruinously. The person who "invested” him, was a beautiful young girl in her 20s, with brown long hair. Unlike Sam, after the impact she had turned on herself and had fallen ruinously on the ground letting fly a bunch of sheets.

While Sam was getting up slowly and tried to figure out who had hit him, the girl was trying to get up with difficulty amid general indifference.

Sam then held her by the arm and said:

“I'll help you to collect those papers but then you tell me why you are going so fast in front of a cup of coffee.”

The girl looked at her watch, reflected a moment and then said:

“Come on, let’s collect everything if you do not mind, then let's have coffee and who cares.”

The prevailing confusion made way for euphoria. Sam was not excited by the fact of going to a bar with a girl, but for the fact that this girl had looked at her watch and had blown it.

“Come on, let's start from the beginning. I’m Carla, I'm 26, I'm of Italian descent, and today I had to deliver these important documents in the office for a lawsuit but, perhaps, it was not worthwhile. It’s your turn.”

“I am Sam, yesterday I decided to leave Cleveland to come in New York and after a few hours I already think it was worth it.”

“Hey, I do not know why but I feel I can say that I agree with you. Did you come today? Are you staying with some friends or relatives?” Carla asked.

“No, actually, do you know a good place to stay not too far from the center?” Sam asked without even knowing why he necessarily wanted to be so close to downtown. After all he did not have a damn thing to do and nowhere to go, so downtown or suburbs of New York... it didn’t matter.

“Look, Sam, I don't know where you're from, but here if you do damage, then you must be forgiven. How about if you are my guest for a few nights? I live 6 or 7 miles from here. It is not very close, but...”

“Okay, okay, but now let’s drink this coffee otherwise it cools.” Sam's reply was peremptory.

Carla did not know how to ask Sam to stay a while over her, nor even was sure she had made a mistake to invite a stranger of whom she only knew he was coming from Cleveland and maybe it was not even true.

But it went well, they drank coffee and they make a date to meet at 6pm outside that bar.