DEAREST

PART 3: IRREALITY, Ch. 1

1

We plan the details together the night before. We decide things like the type of weapons we will use and, sometimes, Luciana looks at me surprised. She probably thinks I don't know anything about weapons, but I even take her to the gun room near the gallery, where she can see for herself what kind of weapons we have ready to use. And, besides, what kind of Atavist Master would I be if I didn't know these things? Even so, it's nice when she looks at me that way, and then we keep talking, sure that we're on the same page.

But, although I take her there and open the glass-covered drawers with password lock, I don't touch the weapons. Touching a gun has always caused me a feeling of repulsion. I'm aware that I'm holding something very fragile, but at the same time it's something that can kill. It's that mixture that makes me shudder, so I let her take them instead.

It's funny, but the first time we met, she pointed a gun at me, and so I tell her about this. She blushes a little, not knowing very well what to do, and then chooses to leave the gun back in the drawer.

The next morning, after she's ready to leave, I surprise her with a gift. It's waiting for her in the closed courtyard of the villa, and it shines with arrogance, showing all the spectators its dark golden glow. It is a BMW HP4 motorcycle, just arrived, handmade.

I don't know anything about Luciana's past, but just by looking at her I know it's the first time someone has given her a motorcycle. It's like showing candy to a small child.

She doesn't react immediately, and although she can say in objective terms whether it is a good motorcycle or not, she stands by my side, obediently waiting for me to say something.

"So?" I swiveled my torso to devote all my attention to Luciana, who still doesn't realize that this motorcycle is all for her. "What do you think?"

She leans a little forward over her waist. Then she points her finger at the motorcycle and looks at me, seeking my approval.

"Can I?"

"Most certainly."

Luciana walks to the motorcycle and kneels by the engine, to study the details. From my distance, I can hear a murmur as Luciana traces her fingers along the machine. After a moment, she gets up to do the same with the board.

Although I can remember from memory what I read about the motorcycle, I don't know what specifications Luciana considers most important, so I approach the situation from the perspective of an enthusiastic mother, that means, that I go about the situation judging her face and trying to get a cheerful reaction from her.

"Isn't it a nice motorcycle?"

Leaning over the motorcycle, Luciana turns her face towards me, and I can see that one side of her lips has curved into a small, shy smile.

"Yeah," she agrees. "Is this a new model?"

"Yes. I bought it for you."

Luciana does not respond immediately. Instead, she frowns, with a suspicious look that seems to ask 'why would you give me something?' Despite this, I remain patient as I approach the motorcycle.

Luciana straightens next to the motorcycle, and then I say:

"I just thought... wouldn't it be lovely to take this trip in a motorcycle? What do you think about that, Luciana? Wouldn't it be fun?"

This is the first time I try to be sweet with her, so it's normal that she doesn't react immediately, or that she may feel suspicious. Deep down, I'm aware that there's some sweetness reserved in me for who deserves it, the way one cannot avoid being cautious around a sleeping child. And the truth is that Luciana, although she can stand on her own, somehow manages to manifest that feeling in me. It's an unknown sensation for me. Also, while I talk to her, I can't help but wonder if Luciana might feel that I'm doing this because I feel guilty for having her in the war. I don't want her to suffer or make a greater effort than she should do. Most of all, I want to thank her for helping me.

Her cheeks flush a little. She, who has beautiful androgynous features and resembles a boy with blond curls from an old portrait, now looks more like a teenager. She has lost all the gallant and sophisticated atmosphere that seems to be part of her naturally.

"Can I...? Can I get on?"

"Sure!"

This parterre is big enough to drive in circles at a minimum speed. When she sits down, turns on the engine, and leaves, I see that besides fitting perfectly in a military uniform, Luciana also fits into this motorcycle. After driving around the circular parterre twice, Luciana stops next to me and straightens her back, still looking at the board with serious eyes.

"Thanks, Master."

I place my palms at chest height, and do my best to smile kindly. Although I want her to tell me more about it, I'm glad she accepted my gift.

"I don't know a lot about motorcycles," I confess, "but if you want to talk to me about them, or just anything, anything at all! I'll be listening!"

I manage to get a sort of embarrassed half smile embarrassed from her, but still precious and adorable, the kind that softens your heart, but also makes you laugh. When she does this, she looks down, and looks very pretty.