Free Don't Tell Me You're Afraid by Giuseppe Catozzella Page B

where Alì is. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt him. I just want to talk to him. I want to know where he is and have a little chat with him.”
    â€œBut I don’t know where Alì is.”
    â€œAnd I think you do know.” He took another step forward until he was right in front of me. “Well . . . ?” The blade of the knife was now in contact with my skin; I felt it red hot on my knee, sharp.
    â€œI don’t know where Alì is. . . .”
    He pressed slightly and the blade scratched my skin; immediately a line of blood welled up above the kneecap. His other hand squeezed below my neck, pinning me against the wall, his face just inches from mine. I smelled the scent of his cologne and I saw my distorted face reflected in his lenses.
    â€œYou don’t know. . . .” He kept increasing the pressure. “Then again, do you know what a blade does when it sinks deepinto the flesh? First it cuts the tendon, then the muscle, and finally the bone.”
    At that moment he jerked the blade away and with the same hand, not letting go of the knife, pulled off his glasses and placed them on his head.
    I recognized him then. His bloodshot, dilated eyes, so close to mine. Green as emeralds. It had been three years since I’d seen him, and he had become a man. By now he must be twenty.
    Ahmed. Him again; fate was playing nasty tricks on me. Just as on that night so many years ago when he had caught me and Alì by surprise, he’d reappeared out of nowhere, threatening to cut my leg.
    The shadow that for all those years had lain between me and Alì, dimming my best friend’s smile, was now in front of me, transformed into flesh and blood.
    Then he lowered the blade and pressed it against my leg again. I felt a sharp pain, and I was scared.
    I tried as hard as I could to stop myself, but I burst into tears. Abruptly, like a fountain.
    I didn’t want to lose my leg; with all my heart I didn’t want to. I would never in my life run again. It would be the end of my dreams, the end of my liberation, the end of everything.
    â€œAll you have to do is tell me where Alì is. . . .”
    â€œAhmed . . .” I faltered.
    â€œCome on, Samia, tell me. . . .” He went on holding the blade pressed against my leg, keeping my neck clenched with his other hand, making it hard to breathe. I started coughing, but my throat was squeezed shut. Mucus started running from my nose. I was choking, and my leg felt like it was on fire.
    â€œGo on, you can tell me . . . unless you want to say good-bye to your knee.” He thrust very hard and the blade sank a couple of millimeters into the flesh. I felt faint from the pain; it was as if someone had shoved a burning ember into the pit of my stomach. I just wanted it all to end. “Come on, Samia. . . .”
    He was an inch away from my face; I stared at him, eyes wide open, not breathing.
    â€œYou’ve turned into a really pretty girl, Samia, you know that?” he whispered in a hateful voice as he drove a knee between my legs.
    I immediately pictured what was going through his head.
    I gave in.
    â€œAt the market . . .” It slipped out almost against my will.
    Ahmed bared his teeth in a nasty leer. “At the market
where
? Which market? Bakara?”
    â€œAt the market with Yassin . . . his father . . . at Xamar Weyne . . .”
    â€œGood girl, Samia. Good girl. I remembered that you were a smart girl. Smart and beautiful.”
    Then, suddenly, he let go of me, and I collapsed on the ground like a sack of beans.
    Just like that, Ahmed took off in a jiffy without saying another word.
    I got up, still dazed, and ran straight home.
    Without saying anything to anyone, I rinsed the scratch and sat on the ground against the wall of Alì’s room, waiting, praying that he would appear in the courtyard as