The Crossroads (52 page)

Well, he was tired of that head.

‘Yes, tired,' said the Carrion Man, and he kicked the chair. He hung there above the shepherds, the little soldiers, the plastic animals and the papier-mâché mountains.

Like God
.

Gurgling, he raised his arms a little and spread out his hands.

‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul, he leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.'

Now that he wasn't breathing any more, now that his desperate lungs were screaming ‘air, air!', now that his brain was exploding, now that his legs were thrashing about as on the day they had been shot through with the current, suddenly he understood.

He understood what had been missing from the crib.

It wasn't Ramona.

It was so simple.

Me
.

It was me
.

Quattro Formaggi smiled. A dazzling flash. Once. Twice. Three times.

Then came the liberating darkness.

‘Come, saints of God, come angels of the Lord. Welcome her soul and present it to the throne of the Highest. May Christ, who has called you, welcome you, and may the angels lead you with Abraham to heaven. Welcome her soul and present it to the throne of the Highest. Give her eternal rest, o Lord, and may perpetual light shine on her. Welcome her soul and present it to the throne of the Highest.'

Cristiano was still sitting among his schoolmates but his mind
was far away, in another church. It was empty. He was standing in front of the lectern beside his father's coffin. Quattro Formaggi and Danilo were sitting in the front row.

My father was a bad man. He raped and killed an innocent girl.
He deserves to go to hell. So do I for helping him. I don't know
why I helped him. I swear I don't know. My father was a drunkard,
a ruffian, a good
-
for
-
nothing. He was always hitting people. My
father taught me to use a pistol, my father helped me to beat up a
guy when I had slashed the saddle of his motorbike. My father has
always stood by me since the day I was born. My mother ran away
and he brought me up. My father took me fishing. My father was
a Nazi but he was good. He believed in God and he never used
blasphemous words. He loved me and he loved Quattro Formaggi
and Danilo. My father knew what was right and what was wrong
.

My father didn't kill Fabiana
.

I know he didn't
.

The wire of the battery charger snapped. Quattro Formaggi fell down among the shepherds, the Lego houses, the little ducks and the Barbapapas.

Rino Zena, lying in bed, moved his hand.

A voice said: ‘Can you hear me? If you can hear me, give me a sign. Any sign at all.'

Rino smiled.

Cristiano Zena opened his eyes.

Everyone stood and clapped as the coffin came by.

He jumped to his feet and shouted: ‘It wasn't my father!'

But nobody heard.

I'm Not Scared
Steal You Away