The Silence of the Wave Read Online Free PDF Page A

chief
.
    What happened immediately afterward I can’t remember, but I assume I followed Scott, maybe by passing through the window.
    What I do remember is that I found myself in the park again, walking with him by my side. Obviously in the dream I remembered what had happened and how we’d left my room, because I didn’t ask him any questions about that.
    “Scott, you remember the girl we met last time?”
    Of course, chief. Very pretty, I’d say
.
    I was pleased that Scott had noticed, that in some way he was giving me his approval.
    “Yes, she’s the prettiest girl in my class. What can I do to meet her again? I mean, around here?”
    Don’t worry, chief. We met her once, we’ll meet her again
.
    At that moment I smelled sweets in the air. Justlike another aroma, from many years ago. Maybe I was three, four at the most. We were all together, Mom, Dad, and me. I have very few memories of all three of us together. We were in a street somewhere, I’m not sure where. The aroma came from a street vendor, who had a handcart or a van, I can’t remember which. What I do remember is that soon afterward I was holding a hot waffle with cream and caramel, the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.
    Before having these dreams I’d never realized that I miss my father.

4
    The door opened and there she was.
    “Did you take your car to a garage?” he said, making an effort to smile. He was out of practice.
    “Oh, it’s you. Yes, of course, I took it straight away and had to change the battery. I’m not sure whether I thanked you last Monday for your kindness. I can be quite distracted. Did I say thank you?”
    “Yes, of course you said thank you.”
    “Well, at least that’s something. I’m an expert at looking stupid.”
    “I think I was the one who made myself look stupid the other day.”
    “Why?”
    “The way I blurted out that I remembered that commercial about … you know. Maybe you didn’t like being recognized for that and—”
    “No, no, I used to like doing commercials.”
    She spoke quickly, but without swallowing herwords. As if some underlying nervousness wouldn’t allow her to go at a calmer rhythm, but years of practice stopped her mangling the words.
    “Why do you say ‘used to’? Don’t you do them anymore?”
    She shrugged, as if the subject was of little importance.
    “I have to run,” she said, after a glance at her watch. Roberto held back the impulse to tell her that he could walk her to her car in case it didn’t start again.
    “Then maybe we’ll see each other again here.”
    She looked at him, uncertain how to classify that remark. “Maybe,” she said at last, giving a slight smile and another shrug of the shoulders.
    Then she started walking in the direction of her car and Roberto climbed the stairs. Only when he was outside the door of the office did he realize he had taken the stairs two steps at a time.
    That hadn’t happened in quite a while.

5
    Roberto looked around. Louis Armstrong was still in his place, and on the other wall was a painting of a small fishing port, with boats drying in the low sun and a few figures. It was a painting that communicated a sense of peace: it’s silent, Roberto told himself.
    “Everything all right?”
    “Yes, yes, I’m sorry.”
    “You were looking around.”
    “Yes, and I was thinking that for months I didn’t even notice what there was in this room. Before, whenever I entered a place, I’d immediately register everything: the wider picture and the details. It was like I was photographing everything in my mind: once I’d been in a place I was able to describe it, down to the smallest detail. Whereas if in the past few weeks someone had asked me to describe your office, all I’d have been able to say was that there was a desk, two or three chairs, a small couch, and a few bookshelves on the walls.”
    “And now?”
    “Now I’m starting to notice what’s around me. Outside and even inside. For example, up until last