Free Tristano Dies by Antonio Tabucchi

foresters, exterminated by the SS that the Republicans had guided into the woods. Hidden in the oak trees in front of their house, he’d witnessed their murder from a distance, through tortured, wild eyes, while he stood among the branches. But during the retreat, one of the Nazis left his squad to find a fresh egg in the chicken coop; Taddeo waited behind a holm-oak, and when the soldier went by, smashed his face in with a knotty branch. Then he took the soldier’s
Maschinenpistole
and climbed the slopes to join the partisans. By now, they didn’t have much to say to each other, he and Taddeo. The reality was he went to Taddeo’s because he enjoyed riding his motorcycle along that steep road to the sea, a road filled with wind and different scents … And now we’ve come to the detail. Instead of going by motorcycle that day, Tristano went by bus. Why? I couldn’t say. In the piazza that stretched out behind the moats, between the Mussolini-era post office and the first piers of the port, there was a small market of fresh-caught fish. Tristano was wandering by the fish still flopping in crates when he suddenly felt the urge to see Taddeo, the bus stop was nearby – it was just like that. He bought the proper fish for Taddeo to make his spicy
cacciucco
stew, he crossed the road, it was almost noon, only ten minutes to wait. Tristano remembers two precisesounds, as if he were hearing them now, the noon bells ringing and the bus honking its horn, announcing its arrival, right on schedule. And then a voice murmured in his ear: Glenn Miller’s more cheerful than Schubert. Tristano swung round, and all he could manage to say was, what are you doing here, where’d you come from, why aren’t you back in America? I’ve been waiting for you, Rosamunda answered … I’m not making this up, writer, that’s exactly what she said, I’ve been waiting for you, which is a crazy answer, because none of this made any sense, and then she added, I’m coming with you – we have to talk. But then during the trip they didn’t exchange a word, they got off at the second stop, took the road to the small town by the shore, and reached Taddeo’s pensione. Tristano handed the fish over to the girl who did all the general maid work, because Taddeo wasn’t back yet. Marilyn asked Tristano if they could get a room. The
Zimmer
, like all the other
Zimmer
, was a room with plaster walls that were whitewashed and textured for a Mediterranean effect, and prints of old photographs were hanging, fishermen in rolled-up trousers who sat mending fish pots. A small door led to the bathroom, a closet-sized room with a toilet, sink, and showerhead fixed to the wall with a plastic curtain to pull around it. The sliding glass door led onto the terrace sheltered by privet shrubs, Tristano stepped out and lit a cigarette. They hadn’t spoken a word yet. Marilyn tiptoed over to him and draped her arms around his shoulders. What do you want? he asked. You, she said. Tristano turned and grabbed her wrists. Rosamunda, he said, this is ridiculous, you can’t pretendnothing happened, things ended badly between us, let’s not make it any worse. There was a green park bench against the low terrace wall. Marilyn sat down and crossed her legs. None of that matters anymore, Clark, she said, I swear, none of that matters. But I don’t love you anymore – and don’t call me Clark – actually, Tristano said, I never loved you. Me neither, Marilyn said, but what the body wants is something else, and it’s the same for you, I know it is, I know because I remember. Forget it, Tristano said, try a little harder, you’re good at forgetting. They had their dinner on the covered veranda that Taddeo used as a restaurant. Hardly anyone was out there, it wasn’t high season yet. Taddeo served them in silence, as if they were any two customers. They didn’t talk, either, they were listening to the waves lapping against the pebbles on the shore. It was nearly dawn