Hadrian's Wall (51 page)

I wouldn’t have felt so
uncomfortable if they’d completely ignored me. I waved back and
went straight to the porch where some students were already
gathered, almost everyone talking at once. It was difficult to
understand what they were saying.

The girls wore bikinis or
swimsuits with colorful beach wraps tied around their waist or
sarongs tied around the bust. The guys were shirtless and wore
baggy shorts with low waists, like the surfers I’d seen on
television.

No one seemed
uncomfortable with everyone being scantily clad...except me. Where
I came from, people did not leave their house dressed like that,
not even to go to the swimming pool. I felt like one of the bit
players in one of those TV shows that took place on the beaches of
California—hunky lifeguards and women with silicone breast implants
that looked like they were about to fall out of their bikini top.
It was hard to control my laughter...
but I
did
.

The first familiar face I
saw was Sally. She wore a beautiful yellow bikini, with a huge
fringed scarf which she’d discreetly tied around her hips. I
realized she was barefoot, but had a rhinestone bracelet around her
ankle. Sally saw me standing in the doorway and motioned for me to
join the small group that had formed near the stairs. Standing with
her was Nikos, David, and two guys I hadn’t met before. She
introduced us and soon I heard learned that both Jack and Billy
were studying exact
sciences at
Uwall.

The three intended to be
mechanical engineers. Jack dreamed of working with aircraft
engines—especially those manufactured for military jets. Billy and
Sally shared the same dream—to develop their own concept of a
vehicle on four wheels. Putting together what they told me with the
fragments of conversation that was already circulating when I
arrived, I realized that the three of them were working hard on an
engine for a racecar. It was Sally’s project. She planned to sell
the engine model for the major automotive brands, but for the
business to work out, first they had to get the attention of
industry giants for...
How did they put
it?
The “product.” Nothing better than a
dark horse
winner to achieve this feat.
The perfect opportunity was coming. Soon they’d would participate
in a very prestigious car race, but there was still a big challenge
ahead—finishing the adjustments to the engine before the date set
for the race.

I was impressed. Less than
two months ago, I never would have imagined that I’d be meeting
people like this.

Now I understood Sally’s
fascination with Adrian’s super machine. Well, she didn’t need
encouragement to express her interest again, so
she did!
As soon as Jack and Billy
moved away, she began probing me about the possibility of meeting
him so that she could see his legendary collection
of cars
.

I tried to be evasive
without appearing unsympathetic. At one point in the conversation,
I thought I had succeeded in not committing myself with regard to a
“visit” for her to Adrian’s garage. I mean, I still didn’t know if
I’d get such a chance myself because those guys really believed
that I was great friend of the Cahill family. This put me in a
difficult position. How they would treat me if they knew I was no
more than a “charity case” for the most powerful family in the
region?

I swallowed hard.

* * *

Although the sun was near the horizon, the
heat it was still intense. I moved into the shade of one of the
pillars on the porch. I was bored and hot. By this time of the
year, the heat wave should have been over, but there was no sign
that it would end any time soon.

Nik offered me a sip of
beer. I was really thirsty, but I didn’t want to have anything
alcoholic, so I declined. I knew there would be plenty of booze at
the party. I’ve never been a drinker and I didn’t want to start
now. He shrugged and drank straight from the bottle.

Delilah appeared. “Hey, guys! Has anyone
seen Dwayne?”

“He went to get his car,”
David informed her. “He said he’d try to park on the corner, if he
could find a space. Whoever wants a ride had better hurry because
he won’t wait long. Violet and Janice must already be
there.”

“Is there still
room
for us?” Delilah
asked, looking a little worried.

I hugged the band around my chest, thinking
that it would provide a great excuse not to go.

“If Dwayne doesn’t have
room, you can come with us,” Sally offered, her voice clearly
reluctant. She glanced from me to Delilah as if to say, ‘You’re
welcome, she’s not.’

“Come on!” Delilah grabbed
my hand, shooting an imperious glance at Sally over her shoulder.
“Abby!
David!”

Sally gave a cynical laugh. The rivalry
between those two seemed increasingly bizarre.

Apparently I was the
novelty of the week. Now I understood what a poor bone must feel
when two hungry dogs fight over it. I tried to console myself,
believing the girls would soon lose interest on me. In time I would
become as anonymous and insignificant as I was before—at least
that’s what I expected.

As we walked along the
sidewalk, we heard the insistent honking of a horn. Dwayne Preston
stuck his arm out of his car window and waved at us. Janice and
Violet were standing near the rear door of his car, chatting. I
heard Abby stop beside me and mutter, "Whenever I see him, he’s
surrounded by women.”

I walked in silence,
sneaking a quick peek inside the vehicle. I couldn’t use the “lack
of space” excuse. Dwayne’s 4x4 was very spacious and comfortable. I
climbed in and sat in the far corner of the back seat.

My peace was short-lived
because soon the girls got in and squeezed themselves into the seat
beside me. For a moment I was afraid they were going to squash me.
David arrived, then excused himself for bumping us as he wedged
himself between us. Thus began the laughter and the funny little
games. Violet sat on David’s lap and glanced in the rearview mirror
where Dwayne was watching the whole scene.

Delilah, who was sitting in the front seat,
turned around and asked, “Are you guys comfortable?”

“Very funny!” said Abby,
who had just sat down on the floor with her legs crossed, leaning
against David’s and Janice’s legs.

We all laughed at the
situation. I didn’t want to seem like a wet blanket, so I thought
I’d better not complain about being crammed into the corner. I
tried to protect my ribs by resting against the door.

Dwayne climbed into the
driver’s seat, slammed the door, and started the engine.

“Come on, folks! Yo, Joe!”

Many cars were already turning around to
head out, but some were still waiting for the arrival of
latecomers.

Well, I knew one thing—the
party was not open to the entire student population, only the
freshmen.
“Is this a
kind of welcome party?” I asked.
From what
I understood, this was something that always occurred in the first
week of classes.

Dwayne glanced at me in the
rearview mirror and responded, “I don’t think so. The fraternity
guys never organize events like this for freshmen. The ‘welcome
party’ is a separate event organized by the rectory’s staff. It’s
the only opportunity we have to see face of the magnificent rector
up close,” Dwayne said, laughing.

They began to tell
anecdotes about the rector and the directors of the university’s
departments, but I didn’t pay much attention. I entertained myself
by watching the landscape. Occasionally, a few cars passed by us
and I looked at the people inside them, enjoying an old game I
played inside my head—creating the life stories of
strangers.

I didn’t see Stephen’s
pickup anywhere, which made me feel relieved and worried at the
same time. I was relieved because nobody would see me traveling
with a “royal escort,” but I was worried because it might be a sign
that Adrian was tired of playing the role of nanny. This would
explain the withdrawal of the bodyguards or “guardians” as he
called them.

No!
He promised to keep me safe. I could doubt everything except
his word. Stephen had to be out there somewhere. I remembered that
I’d heard the noise in my bedroom, I’d seen the unlocked window,
and I wondered if could not have been him.

Delilah turned on the
stereo at full volume. the frenetic beat of the music dominated the
interior of the car. She beat her palms on the dashboard, keeping
time with the music. Around us the
town
looked peaceful compared to the
turmoil that reigned in the car. I wanted to be out there on the
lake shore.

Soon everyone was singing
along with the lead singer. To be honest, they shouted more than
sang, amidst the laughter. I smiled, pretending to like the song. I
soon realized that we were driving around the lake on a country
road near the Mountain of Polish Man. A few curves later, the road
straightened out and we crossed a stone bridge decorated with
colorful ceramic tiles. It was a very different structure than
anything I’d seen before, but fascinating! It connected the two
opposite banks of Bluewater Lake on the stretch where the lake
narrowed, forcing one arm of the lake into the greenest area I’d
ever seen. This drastic change in the
shape
of
the lake created an amazing visual
contrast between the intense green of the trees and the bright blue
waters. I’d never seen landscape like this—not even in
movies.

Now we were driving along
the cliffs and rocky beaches whose stones seemed to hurl their
sharp claws at the sky. The road sign indicated the area where we
were, so it became increasingly easy to associate the events
mentioned in Joe Verano’s article to what I was seeing with my own
eyes, giving wings to my imagination!

In the mysterious Forest
Green-Screen, the party of empiric guys reached its apogee. While
the ultimate flames in the campfire were burning, the mysterious
sounds reported by witnesses began. In my head I saw the same beast
that I thought I’d found in South Portland. It approached
surreptitiously,
its big
paws kneading the dry sticks during its passage.

Around the campfire,
someone less drunk than the others would have heard the crackling,
partially obscured by laughter and loud music. He would have been
standing, would have thrown the bottle to the side, and would have
walked toward the trees. The sound would be repeated—this time
louder and accompanied by grunts. For someone less inebriated, just
the heavy steps would have been enough to make him understand that
he was not human. Therefore, the survival instinct should have made
the guy turn around and flee, but he didn’t.

Tottering, he would enter
in the woods...and in a moment of silence would ask the fateful
question—the question which was always asked in the horror films
and which always made me angry. “Hello? Is anybody there?” In
response, he would hear a low, menacing growl. His eyes
would
widen
and
the hairs on the back of his neck would stand on end. Then he
stumble back to the campfire.

The car lurched enough to
dispel my cinematic fantasies. Through the window I saw that we had
left the Bluewater’s shore and the odd bridge behind. Now we were
entering a less dense part of the forest. There we came to a
crossroads. The road sign consisted of very old wooden boards, but
apparently they were sturdy and indicated three directions. Dwayne
took the path to the right, leading us onto a dirt road that had
many hairpin turns.

The road ended at a large
clearing, which was frequently used for camping. Evidence of that
was everywhere—garbage bags piled high, beverage cans left on the
picnic table. Banners hanging on the façade of the huts testified
that the sewing club had celebrated its fifth year. I don’t know
whether before or after the cooperative of potatoes promoted its
reunion or the former members of the fishing club...

There were a total of three
log huts that marked the boundary between the meadow and the
forest. All were closed, except the largest of the three—one with
an annex of concrete and bricks where barbecue grills were visible.
The place was transformed into the headquarters of an animated
group of guys who wore yellow T-shirts that read “The Wallpaper’s
Today F.E.”

(...)
It’s not because she belongs to the same species that the
yellow mantles will be complacent with her...They can be much more
cruel to their own kind than us...in old times
.
(...) I shook my head, trying to
ward off intruding thoughts. Why am I remembering that
now?

Dwayne carefully
maneuvered his 4x4 amongst the cars that were parked near the main
hut. Nearby, I saw a large group of noisy freshmen. They surrounded
a small team of guys wearing the same yellow T-shirts as the staff
in the hut. They seemed like
dogs bouncing
around the yellow coaches!

I immediately felt relief
when I got out of the car. The strap binding my ribs was killing
me!
Now that I was able to stand, it wasn’t
so bad.
I took a few uncertain steps in
the direction of my group, attentive to what was happening
ahead.