The Oath

The Oath Parte 4

— Surely..., or maybe, Frank!

« One day, while we were going to the beach with the family, I was driving, I stopped at an intersection, to let two girls who were crossing it. One of them was the brunette, I recognized her immediately. I was sure she had seen us, but she walked through indifferently.

"Mom, that's my girlfriend!", Pasquale said, leaning against her and pointing to the brunette.

My mother, who had followed the scene, took a moment to answer, and dryly exclaimed "I don't like!". I was stunned to hear what my brother said: I would never have imagined that, in such a short time, he could have resumed the relationship with the brunette. I deduced that, perhaps, indeed certainly, knowing her, everything would have happened for her initiative. The fact that Pasquale had not confided in me left me perplexed; but, thinking about her, I thought it was correct that everything must have started from her, and from that meeting a few months earlier on the Course, and with him in uniform. However, even after that he never mentioned anything to me about that sentence he addressed to our mother, and after about ten days he left. I continued to work, helping my father.

« One day, a cousin of mine, for me the best of all cousins, asked me if I could help him. "The wine grape harvest has begun!", he told me, and he, the trucker, needed a helping hand. "It's about making trips from Salento; loads of grape seeds, to be transported to a company for the production of seed oil!", he explained to me. I gladly accepted, and reported it to mine parents; the next morning, at one a.m. I was down at his house, and I waited some time, before he came down; luckily in the first September nights were still enjoying the heat of the end of August. I had already been on the truck, as I said, but that time I traveled seated on the engine hood, and not on the seat: now there was no second driver. We made a trip to the day: between the outward, return, loading and unloading of the goods in the factories, we returned home when the sun had already set. A sandwich, consumed in the loading phase, was our daily lunch. About twenty days lasted my adventure, as a not truck driver, who for this reason ran the risk of becoming monotonous, were it not for some curious episodes that occurred during those days and which had created some rather bizarre and amusing diversions, which they made my new experience more interesting. One in particular, I want to tell...; one day, when we reached the unloading plant, the yard was already busy with another truck in maneuver. We stood still, waiting for our turn; my cousin, with the expert eye, exclaimed, "This... will waste us a lot of time!". We waited a long time, while the man, with useless maneuvers, tried to go into reverse on the unloading platform; but, going backwards the trailer always took another direction, and he could never get onto the platform. My cousin began to get nervous, "This driver doesn't know what to do!", he said, and I was afraid of arriving late for the appointment I had that very evening with a girl. "Sorry..., go... and do it you!", I suggested, as I saw him that he was starting to get furious angry. My cousin did not think twice: he got out of the truck and approaching the truck driver, gesturing to him to stop. I saw the two talking, and shortly afterward the bumbling truck driver gave him his seat, passing over to the other seat.

« By paying attention to what was happening, I saw the truck go forward slightly, straighten up, and, quickly and with the utmost precision, step precisely back onto the platform. "It was the first trip!", told me when he returned to his driving seat my cousin, and he did not know, that you had to maneuver in reverse to get on the platform and unload; then he also confessed to him that it was not yet practical enough for that type of maneuver with the trailer attached, and he explained and showed him how to do it! "Your father, he taught me these maneuvers!", he said to me, surprising me; perhaps because he had guessed my question, already ready. "That truck driver said he was waiting for us at the gas station on the highway; to thank me, he wants to offer us a beer; he's a good boy, and I couldn't tell him no!" he concluded. Returning home we smiled several times, thinking of those many and useless maneuvers made by that poor budding truck driver, who then, at the bar, also confessed to us the high level of tension he had reached. "Maybe, if you hadn't arrived, with the forecourt empty and more calmly, I would have done it by myself!", he exclaimed as we said goodbye.