The thirty first of October is my mother’s birthday. It’s also Halloween, of course. But we don’t celebrate. Mom says she doesn’t mind celebrating his birth. It’s not that I’m worried about the passage of time, it’s just plain laziness. I can’t stand Halloween. Death seems to me to be a rather definitive matter. However, that day at least we have dinner together at a decent time. We eat octopus in pignata. His favorite food.
There is no parking in my area. Dusty cars suffocate on the pavement. The bar where you have breakfast in the morning makes you regret not putting two Macines in your latte. The bar you go to drink in the evening is better than the one in the morning, because at least another fucking day is over.
My mom is not beautiful. Not that I could tell by looking at her: for me she has all the right things, she is beautiful. I realized this by looking at the males she was attracted to. People are also quite different from each other, but three things unite them: the morning bar, the evening bar, the sarcasm that is first mother nature and then life has hit and made them uncomfortable. Denialist slurs and impulsive conspiracy theories do not improve their image.
My mother works in an evening bar. Men slap her on the ass, put their hands on her hips, the braver ones reach for her tits. But only when I’m not at the bar. It’s like you can’t see what they’re doing from the outside. Maybe he thinks I can’t see through the yellowed window with my lazy, waning eye. Someone tries it when I’m inside and mom vaporizes them with her killer stare, she only did it to me when I was playing with the hair dryer and blowing the suds out of the bath.
Midnight. Enrico sends me a WhatsApp.
We’re not going inside tomorrow, we’re going to the beach
You are dumb? It’s cold
It seems silly to me
If mommy catches me jerking off with you again, she’ll kick me this time
We go to the octopus and smoke
good
When I wake up, mom is still sleeping. He is lying on his back with four bars on a double bed. The sheet covers the left leg. She’s only wearing panties. Proud breasts. I eat two Macs. I stole six Camel Lights and twenty euros from his bag. Yes, it would be more regular if he noticed the things in my pocket, but my life would be less fun.
I smoke in front of the school gate. I’m listening to Billie Eilish My future. Enrico arrives with a Kymco. White, dirty and noisy. It sounds. I hold the cigarette between my thumb and middle finger and toss it towards the school. I put my headphones in my centogram pocket.
Don’t you have the other helmet?
The other day I was spanked in front of school. Hold this.
and you?
I do not need it.
Neither do I.
I put the foot of the good leg on the footrest, hold on to Enrico and drag the bad leg to the other side.
The sea is calm. We are sitting on a towel on the shore.
Will you take it in my mouth?
I do not feel.
I wave my hand, it comes without warning. He gets his jeans dirty.
I’m starting to get up. He gets up. He offers me his arm and pulls up his pants with his other hand.
Prepare the pulp. It is shaped like soap, has three hooks and a lead.
My father did it. Feel how balanced it is.
He hooks a crow’s foot on it and prepares a fishing line.
When do you think the octopus will die?
In what sense?
When will he die? Christ! When will he bite? When will you pull it out of the water? When?
No! He dies when I bite him between the eyes and slam him against a rock.
I’m going for a walk. I’m watching from afar. Spin and roll.
I take off my shoes, put my feet in the water. I turn to the road, lying on my back by the sea. The kiosk is open. I am going. It is cleaned with bleach.
Would you like a beer?
You are Sarah’s daughter, right?
So what?
you don’t go to school However, we are closed.
I’ll give you twenty euros if you give me a beer.
Here. And go away.
Take the money.
Get off.
Do you go for octopus?
My brother goes there.
What is Octopus Death?
What the hell are you talking about?
When will he die?
Shit? When you take it and pull it out of the water, I mean. What do you think?
Um.
Get the fuck out, come on. And say hello to your mom.
I open a beer with a lighter. Opens on the eighth shot.
Enrico caught three octopuses.
One is yours.
After ectoplasmically leaving school, I go to a bar.
Your mom won’t come today.
He is at home?
I think yes. What do you have in that bag?
Octopus.
Did you get it from Mimmo?
Yes, in your opinion… what is the death of an octopus?
Onions are the death of her, my little star. Miracle with onions.
Corner. Scooters. Kid gangs. Antibacterial suits. Scary masks.
A pink plastic octopus emerges from the walls of the building. He clutches the skeleton.
Lantern in some windows. We look forward to shining together.
I’m going to Mimmo. I will buy another octopus.
Do you think what I have here is good for a piñata?
I’ll take it out. It takes. He nods his head yes. He makes a few cuts.
Mom isn’t home. I turn on Netflix. Who the hell are Fil, Neto and Milena? Yesterday it was Ele, Lisa and Chris. Maybe I liked them better. I vote for Milena. I fall asleep on the couch.
Mom is coming back. He has three bags in his hand.
Are you cooking octopus tonight?
No.
Happy birthday mom!
Thank you.
what do we eat
I got Indian and… Pumpkin Pie!
He is smiling. Silence. I watch her.
Serve the table. And put three glasses.
Why aren’t you an octopus?
We’re celebrating tonight.
Mario is coming. I’ve seen him at the bar a few times. Mom goes to the kitchen.
Your mom is beautiful.
I have no problem looking at him badly.
Octopus dies forgotten in fridge.
Piervincenzo Madeo