Page 322 of Marcello

CLINK!

I’d found a flashlight to give me light. I set it on the ground with it pointed at the ceiling, and clouds of dust floated through the beam as I whacked away at the stone.

More guys started sticking their heads through the hole in the wooden paneling. They’d call out, “Yo, Schizz – what the FUCK are you DOIN’, man?!”

“Nothin’,” I’d say.

They’d all laugh and make jokes about me.

I’d just take another puff on my joint and start hammering away at the wall again.

I couldn’t tell them about the crying bitch.

If I told them, they might try to get to her first.

And she was mine.

All mine.

109

Giulietta

Ihuddled in darkness at the far end of the tunnel, terrified out of my mind. I flinched every time metal struck stone.

CLINK!

CLINK!

CLINK!

It only seemed to be one guy, though.

I heard other people yelling at him and laughing, but no one came to help him – thank God.

If I’d had a rosary, I would have said a thousand Hail Marys, even though I’d given up on religion long ago.

But all I had was the cornicello Romeo had given me, so I rubbed it between my thumb and forefinger as I silently prayed – to God, to the cornicello itself, to whomever might be listening.

Please keep me safe –

Please keep me safe –

Please keep me safe –

110

Giorgio

Those were five of the worst hours of my entire life.

Even though all we were doing was walking through cramped tunnels in the dark, it ranked right up there with the attack on San Michele to rescue Lucia. Or fighting the Camorra in the hospital in Florence.

Measured in sheer terror, those other times were worse – but at least I’d been able to do something.

Down in the tunnels, all I could do was put one foot in front of the other and try to keep my sanity.

That, and think of Emilia and everything I’d lost.