5 Morning

I wake up and realise I've had no dream. That's strange. Most of the time the stories of night are more complicated and absorbing than my own day-life. Outside it's warm and the sky is whiter. My dressing process takes two minutes at most. Over the white long shirt that I went to bed with I tighten the grey sleeveless frock like overalls and I run out in the air. At the end of the village, where the houses are over and the orchards begin, there is a large river that flows at a comfortable distance from the dusty road, besides a fence of wild trees. For a stranger, the water would be cold and unfriendly, with its sharp stones of all sizes at the bottom and the shores full of mud, black and soft. But that is exactly what I liked, sinking my feet in the watery sand and laying on the old collapsed trunks nearby. But my truly important discovery was of where the bottom of the river was sandy itself, a rather small portion where I came often to swim and play in.

Today the water is clean; it hasn't rained for three days almost and the wind blows quietly. There must be sun, above the waters of the sky. I'd really like to swim in more than my nightdress but I can't afford and I have to take the dress out. I get into the water and try not to think. About anything. It's the most difficult thing on earth, if you ask me. Fragments of sights and phrases and melodies are freely chasing around in my mind. The water suddenly becomes cold as I realise I'm hungry.

With the water dropping out of me, I return home. Not very far I see father working in our orchard. I wave at him and start running and I only stop next to his beg, where I sit down breathless and search everywhere for food. From the tree that he put his ladder against, two apples fall at my feet.

"Father, come down and eat with me", I invite him very generously.

"Have you seen Michael?" He says when arrives by me.

"Not since last night."

"Than you didn't know he had an accident. Yes, he adds when I look at him wondering. He was hunting the man in the tower and he fell over. He's got a broken arm."

"I guess he was lucky to get away with that."

Father glances at me very strangely.

"You don't approve on his attempt?"

His question sounds like a trap, but I can't help laughing.

"I thought they were here to talk to a friend, not to destroy an enemy..."

"Yes", he says and finishing the apple, he goes back to work.

"A word of advice, if I may."

The respect in his voice surprises me but I'm cautious because he may just want to make fun of me. I don't mind anyway because he rarely makes any jokes and I enjoy them.

"If you mean to be a part of this story, be the good part. That's all."

He waves at me and goes back to work while uttering an hymn to the Lord. For the first time ever I wander whether I'm worthy of his trust.

It's noon. I arrive home and go to check on Michael's arm. Lucinda drinks tee in a corner.

"Where's Michael?"

"Out, she says. He's practising with the pistol."

I do hear some constant shooting out in the distance. The birds scream after each explosion of noise. Our world has been invaded, I think. I take a seat on my armchair and keep quiet. She is the first to talk.

"Your priest doesn't trust me. He doesn't understand", she says nervously. Michael and I are just trying to gain some peace."

Just then, the birds were startled again by a shoot.

"You don't need to gain it, say I. There's no place more peaceful than our town."

She frowns, then sighs.

"I'm not used to this language of yours. What I mean is that I need to find out who's been writing letters to me", she says. "I've got one letter each year in the last seven, since my friend died. I mean, since he disappeared and I left to Paris by myself", she adds.

"Then he's alive", I say.

"Or perhaps someone's mocking me."

"I doubt that", say I truthfully.

She smiles cruelly.

"What would you know", she says and turns her back to me. There's been silence outside for a while, so I am not surprises when Michael steps in the doorway.

"I'm back, he says, but he too has a different voice. We need to talk."

I stand up and leave the room. I know exactly where to go, so they won't be worried that someone's spying on them. In a few minutes I'm up in my old bedroom, beyond the huge silent bell. I thought here alone I would have some peace, but I very clearly distinct the voices under the nut tree.

"Nobody can hear us now, sweetheart, but I still don't believe that the poor child had any intention of listening", says Michael and I hardly help laughing.

"You're a fool", the woman answers.

They're both smoking.

"This joke has already gone too far", exclaims Lucinda after a moment of silence. "What does this idiot think he's doing? What does he want?"

"You seem very sure he's not whom he pretends."

"O, please, Michael! You didn't expect him to raise from the dead, did you?"

"Listen to me, sweetheart. The man last night... you shot him several times. I climbed the tree, I was this far to him and I shot him again. He didn't even blink and for goodness sake, Lucinda, it's not the first time I use a gun."

"You're a fool", she repeats in anger.

"Tell me something. Why on earth did you come to this place anyway? It's a joke, Lucinda, nothing more! What damage would have done you a mare joke?"

She doesn't answer for a while. I feel their smoke all around me, poisoned and stifling.

"I can't explain, she says. His letters never let me rest. He forced me with a piece of writing and there was nothing I could do. I needed to know, I needed to see..."

Her voice becomes rasping and cold.

"Whoever he is, he will pay me for this fear he caused. Be sure of that."

They remain silent and I puzzled. Strange, strange people... and terrible hunters. Yet the man they fallow holds a strange fascination to me.

"What did the priest say?" Michel wishes to know.

"He told me nothing. He refuses to discuss the matter."

"He does, doesn't he?..."

"We'll just keep using the old way, she says after a while. Our man doesn't deserve any special treatment."

"I'm glad you kept your humour", he says and that is the last thing I hear while they depart. I lay on my back and fall into a sweet day-dreaming.