Backward Stories (2)

Chapter 7

Federica had spent the next day mostly at home: despite good weather, she didn't really felt like going out. She had devoted herself above all to filling the suitcase (suitcases) little by little, and then she had turned herself to reading. She didn't have a particular hobby, unlike Roberto, who always knew how to pass an evening when he wasn't going out. She was happy if she could go out with him, but as we've already seen she had no problem staying indoors, in case.
So she spent afternoon and evening reading and, holding the cordless phone close to her, awaiting a call from her boyfriend. Federica expected Roberto to call her immediately after his arrival in Paris, or maybe after settling in their room... or maybe in the afternoon...
It rarely happened that they went far away, let's say outside Turin, not together. And usually, they would talk on the phone every night anyway: even more so, if it was a trip abroad.
However, Federica tried not to worry too much, and thought that sometimes, even recently, Roberto "forgot" to call her, perhaps because of some problem of even minimal importance, but which made him miss the opportunity to call her anyway.
She remembered the first year they went out together, when she really loved to receive a call from him boyfriend every day if he was out of town. And because of this they had been quarrelling several times: Roberto wasn't the kind of guy willing to interrupt an argument or a dinner just for a phone call. Or rather, he didn't want to feel obligated to do so.
- If I've got time and a chance to, I'm happy to hear from you - he said - but if I'm doing something else, I'd rather not to interrupt only to call you: I'll call you the next day and we'll be on the phone more calmly.
Federica was having a hard time digesting this theory, which she considered (quite rightly) strange and stupid: but it was part of Roberto's character and there was no way to change it. Like many other things, one day they both learned to accept the worst sides of their respective characters and their union gained a lot.

Meanwhile, hours passed. And indeed, at one point the phone rang...
- Hello! I'm Laura... I wanted to know how Sandro and Roberto are going...
- Ah, don't ask me... Roberto didn't call me, neither this morning, nor today... in fact now I was waiting for a call from him, tonight... What time is it? - she said, getting up a little numb from the big sofa. - Oh I understand... it's ten o'clock already... I had started to think that, in fact, they had been calling you in the office...
- Forget about it! Apart from the fact that, since I've been employed, Sandro has possibly called me at the office once or twice... Then, today there was a hellish mess, since it was practically the last day of work...
Her voice pitch was getting higher.
- So, we don't know anything about them? But damn it! I don't understand why they should behave like this!
Federica tried, as always, to minimize the issue. She told her friend that, after all, it was normal for both of their boyfriends not to call too often. She then proposed to call Emanuela, assuming that she, at least, had news of hers.
- Yes... It's late... but I'll try to call her anyway. - Laura put the phone down and got ready to call Giorgio's girlfriend.
"Giorgio is not the kind who doesn't call..." Federica thought. “I know Robi by now... and Sandro, we also know how he uses to behave. But I'd be surprised by Giorgio, always so precise..."
Federica was still convinced that there was nothing going on with the boys... but quickly a second phone call from Laura brought her new troubled thoughts.
After a few moments, Federica had in fact realized that it wouldn't have been a good idea to let Laura, already upset, call Emanuela... given the meeting on the evening before. Then, she had decided that it would be better if she talked to Emanuela before Laura. But, once she dialed her number on her phone, she found hers busy. She initially hoped it was a good sign: "probably", she thought, "it's Giorgio who's calling her... and that's probably the reason why she didn't call me worried, because maybe she's already heard from them. Even yesterday".
Instead... Laura had been up to her word and it was her who was already talking to Emanuela. And, after a few minutes, she called back Federica very angry.
- D'you know what, I heard Giorgio's girlfriend, and she told me that she too doesn't know anything about any of the three. What shall we do?
Federica felt involved in her friend's anger mixed with concern. She tried, then, to keep calm and to calm her friend in turn.
- Laura, I think you shouldn't be so mad... You know they're like that... even if they don't call, there's nothing to worry about. If you really want to, try and call the hotel in Paris and ask them what they are doing... I won't do it: I have learned that if Roberto wants to hear from me he knows where to find me, and since I'm sure he likes hearing from me, he'll do that as soon as he will be able to.
But Laura didn't calm down. - Consider that Emanuela has already tried to call Paris, a few hours ago, and no one answered... that is, she has not even been able to talk to the hotel.
- She possibly has the wrong number... or maybe she's not been able to explain herself... - Federica intervened, hoping to be able to quickly liquidate Emanuela's attempt.
- No, my dearest, the number is perfectly correct and for what concerns the language Emanuela knows French very well! You should know that…
All these superlatives confused Federica. But Laura had already taken other steps forward in her analysis of the situation.
- By the way... you know which road leads to Paris, don't you Fede?
Federica was taken aback. - Huh? How, which road? You go towards Montgenèvre, or towards Bardonecchia, then you cross the border, after which there will be a highway, I don't know for sure...
- Yeah, but it's such a pity that along the way, for those who want to care about, there's a little village called Beaulard... Does it remind you of anything? To me, it does...
Federica didn't expect her friend to go and revive what used once to be a hot topic for her and Roberto but now closed and buried. But after a few more minutes of Laura's monologue, Federica no longer felt as confident as she did before.
- You really think that Sandro and Roberto would stop in Beaulard... but for what reason? Apart from the fact that Roberto doesn't give a damn about that anymore... But then, didn't Sandro's ex get married a few years ago? What sense would it make... - she asked Laura.
- I don't know if you believe everything Roberto tells you... but Sandro never misses an opportunity to recall this story of Beaulard, every time we go to the mountains, every time... well, if it's not me who tells him to stop it, it's a constant confronting me with that one over there...
Federica, hearing these words, calmed down. She seemed to be hearing again by Roberto's words: Sandro and Laura live an extremely hard-fought relationship, based on continuous competition, sometimes also on a constant challenge... and he does nothing but talk about Francesca to keep his current story with Laura as different as possible from the previous one... to be sure that sad ending will never be repeated.
That was how things were, according to Roberto. And Federica, who had often suffered from Laura's emotional outbursts, agreed with him quite right. She had already tried other times to convince her friend that in order to suffer less in these situations, she'd have only needed to show herself less willing to take up these provocations and, in some way, less jealous. But she had never been successful.
On the other hand, one of the last sentences Laura utterly bothered her very much.
- And Sandro always says that Roberto thinks alike and that indeed it's him who always talks about Beaulard... and about Stefania, even if, when you are around, he doesn't have the courage.
At this point, Federica remained silent. She already knew this story, because everyone had told her in the past that Roberto had spent a period of his life always talking about Stefania and 1985... Roberto as first. But it was all gone, in fact. And she was sure that neither of that girl nor of that year did Roberto care in any particular way. It was the side of her that counted most on Roberto's love, which was sure of this.
She then tried to quickly end the discussion with her friend.
- Well, then, what do you want to do? I expect to go get the tickets tomorrow morning, late and... we should be at the station by eight thirty-nine... Okay? See you tomorrow for lunch, what do you think?
Laura, rather abruptly, replied affirmatively.
- I'll come at your place as I leave the office - she concluded. - But you, do reflect on what I told you...
Then she took her leave. Federica stood still for a while, thinking about what else was going to go through that girl's head.
Subsequently, she picked up her book again. But as the evening passed without further phone rings, she fell asleep at some point.

Federica woke up after midnight, when her mother came to call her in her room.
- It's late, isn't it? How strange, mom, Roberto didn't call at all...
To her mother who, rightly, expressed concern about a possible accident or in any case a mishap in the boys' journey, Federica still replied with a discreet tranquility.
- Well... as usual, they'll have found something else to do, and so they'll call tomorrow... I just have to go to sleep, mom.
Federica's mother had already had the opportunity, in the past, to criticize these behaviors of her daughter's boyfriend. Not wanting to start an argument in the middle of the night, she ignored it and went back to sleep.

* * *

The day after, weather conditions had worsened considerably. Federica woke up at the usual time and then helped her mother to sort out some little household chores. Her father would still have worked that day and also the next day, before the New Year's party.
He was almost close to retirement, not so much for his age as for the choices of the company he worked for: but, as a good Venetian, he was waiting for nothing more than to reach retirement to be able to devote himself to all his hobbies, home bricolage, and fulfill the dream of restoring and arranging the country house purchased more than ten years earlier... perhaps to make it a future home to Federica.
In fact, the idea had began to spread in Federica's family, that she'd have to think about getting married by now, following the example of her sister who, seven years older, had got married very young. From this point of view, the fact that Federica had been dating Roberto for three years now boded well, even though it was now clear that she would not follow her sister's example, who had behaved exactly as in her parents' dreams of. She.
And Roberto was now well regarded by Federica's parents, despite the fact that the early days had been rather controversial. But both families had understood that those difficult moments, now overcome, had cemented the union of the two.

* * *

Shortly before lunch, the doorbell rang.
It was Laura, who had just finished her last half-day of work in '93 and was preparing to complete preparations for her well-deserved holiday.
The morning had also passed without any of the boys calling. Federica was beginning to feel a certain uneasiness, and here and there phrases and doubts expressed by Laura the night before reappeared.
Her union with Roberto was definitely very solid, there was no doubt. And she wouldn't give the slightest credit to Laura's hypothesis who imagined Sandro and Roberto walking around Beaulard with their respective ex's. "And yet... how many times have we talked about it... about that story." Federica thought about how many times she had cried, thinking that everything she felt for Roberto would end because of his continued digging up that girl.
Dark days, long discussions in the evening and even during the day. Quarrels and angry faces that sometimes lasted even for days. Then they found each other back, and spent wonderful moments together, swearing to each other never to behave in such a childish way again.
But, after a few more days... Maybe a reference happened, one of those connections that came spontaneously to Roberto... and here Beaulard peeked out and for Federica it was trauma again. And Roberto, stupidly, wasn't realizing the harm he could do with those little phrases. Exactly because they came spontaneously, he didn't realize that it'd be better for both of them if he kept them to himself... or if he had actually stopped making those connections with dates, with names...
Yet their union was stronger. One of the details that turned out to be decisive for Roberto was the discovery that, when Federica suffered from this nightmare of Beaulard, she actually suffered for him.
He had been saying for long that a nostalgia for that period, that year, was the thing that had made him feel the mossadt... much more than the disappointment for a love that had not followed. And when they met, he was practically in the deepest stages of this crisis, mixed with a deep sense of loneliness and inadequacy of himself with respect to the world.
The way Roberto talked about girls, about past loves, about feelings had, after a short time, made a dent in Federica's heart.
On the other hand, he liked Federica, but she looked to him in first place out of reach and then also quite different from the girl he thought he was looking for in life. So, as they started dating, it all had a very special flavor for both of them. They both found that they craved the sweetness that they could exchange each other. The first months were perfect: Roberto decidedly moved away from the previous depression and Federica realized that she was really in love with him, in a way she had never felt...
For this reason, when Roberto started talking about Beaulard again, even if in different tones... she was afraid of seeing him back as sad as when they had met.
It's beyond doubt that Roberto understood only in those years what it meant to love a person, and it was Federica who proved it to him.
Why, then, after more than a year would have Roberto thought of returning to Beaulard again, hiding from her? "Maybe he's been pushed by Sandro..." she thought, who maybe had some unhealthy idea to play some other joke on Laura...
Federica undoubtedly cared much more for Robi than for all her friends. As for Laura, although she felt sympathy with her when she found that Sandro treated her in an exaggerated way, she couldn't blame Sandro to such an extent.

So Federica, upon arrival of her friend, was afraid of having to resume a long and exhausting discussion. "In any case, Sandro didn't call her for sure... and she'll be angrier than yesterday!"
Instead, incredibly, this wasn't the case.
- Hello! How are you?
Federica was happy to hear a certain serenity in her friend's voice.
- Fine, and you? As soon as I saw you, I thought you mustn't have slept much...
- Yeah - Laura said. - I hardly slept at all... but at least I have cleared up my mind. I am convinced that you are right... or that in any case I am wrong in behaving like this.
- Well... - Federica tried to intervene.
- No, I mean this one will be the last chance I give him. I don't want to think of any bad behavior on Sandro's part... but if he actually does something shady with me, this time I'll give up on the spot!
Federica was amazed by Laura's phrases, but she welcomed what her words positively. "One problem has been solved... thank goodness." Now, all that remained was to understand what exactly had happened to the boys.
- So... we're leaving tonight, sure? - she asked Laura.
- Sure. Now I'm going home, resting a little, then I take a shower and see you at the station by eight. Ah, let's remember to call Emanuela...
- Yes, don't worry, I'll take care of it...
- Have you already had your lunch, Fede?
- Well... yes... why, did you feel like eating out?
- Let's say it could've been an idea...
Federica approached the mirror in the hall. - Except, you see, I should change my clothes and get ready... This morning, given the awful weather, I didn't even go out to get the tickets.
- It doesn't matter... I'm going. See you tonight then.
Federica greeted Laura and then closed the door, pausing a few moments with her hand resting on the metal lock of the front door.
She felt relieved, for helping her friend feel more peaceful. But now, all her thoughts were turned to Roberto.

 Chapter 8

- Assuming that, from a physical point of view, there's nothing that can explain our crossing of time, let's try and see what else may have caused it.
- But... it's not that we care much about the cause of what happened... don't you think so, Robi? - Giorgio intervened.
- Well... you know: in the absence of anything else, I'm applying the so-called scientific method. I am looking for an explanation starting from the causes...
Roberto thus continued yet another chat about their situation, undertaken shortly before. They had entered a bar in Oulx after a tour of the town which lasted almost an hour. It wasn't cold at all that evening, just as Sandro had pointed out a short time before.
During their walk they had re-stated for the umpteenth time the point on the events that had occurred in the last few days, but they hadn't been able to formulate a sure explanation, much less to devise a method to return to normal life. And therefore this is how it happened, that Roberto took courage and decided to expose a theory partly based on topics he had always hed in his mind, and partly had been consolidating in the latest forty-eight hours.
- We can exclude the presence of wizards or witches, then we exclude aliens as well... I think, right? In short, if we can't explain this time travel by means of external causes, we just have to conclude that it was us who caused it...
- Wait wait. I'm lost: what do you mean? - Giorgio asked, with Sandro's support.
- Well, we couldn't find any plausible explanation in our surroundings, so the explanation has to be somewhere else. On the other hand, you and I have often thought that mind has the power to alter reality, right, Sandro?
Giorgio reacted with some amazement, but all in all Roberto expected that: it made him feel almost tenderness to see his friend, so pragmatic, face from time to time the most rash theories in a context of what should have been a simple holiday.
On the other hand, Sandro's reaction was unexpected.
- Have you gone mad? What are you saying? Mind can probably influence events, as I always state when I think I can get people to act the way I want... but these are minor changes to people's character or beliefs. My powers are limited to this...
- It may not be like this... - Roberto tried to recover the situation.
- Yes, sure... - Giorgio intervened - you and him... together again, here in Beaulard. It might make sense.
Roberto followed Giorgio's words with satisfaction: although Sandro was the person with whom he had the best harmony of thought, sometimes Giorgio could grasp first the true meaning of his talks. As he noticed this fact, he felt the theory strengthen deep within him: his mind and Sandro's were really very similar. They could have caused that affair.
- As I was saying... it could be that our contemporary presence here, combined with a particular disposition of mind, has caused a physical shift in our lives at this time. Or, if you prefer, our connected thoughts have staged this situation, which we are now experiencing as real… we might as well be just dreaming… experiencing, as if hypnotized, all of this.
Roberto tried to give a semblance of logic to this hypothesis. Yet Sandro wasn't convinced at all, and indeed he went on to attack Roberto.
- You are just telling a bunch of rubbish: I've never thought of Beaulard in the last five years, I've got no regrets of any kind, I haven't come to ski here anymore nor do I particularly care, and so on... - said Sandro, raising his voice.
Giorgio and Roberto pointed out that he had attracted the attention of the only other three people present in the room. At which Sandro moderated his tone of voice and resumed talking: - and therefore, if there's anyone who has used his mind powers, assuming that it makes sense to affirm it, to cause all this, it's you, Roberto.
- Yes, but please don't you start a fight now... - Giorgio intervened.
- No, no... - Roberto paused to rearrange his ideas. His friend's reaction had taken him off guard: it had always been Sandro who was talking, sometimes as a joke and sometimes seriously, about mind powers. And now that he had made a reference to this common line of thought, imagining that his friend would fully agree, he felt displeased with him. He was therefore forced to change the subject and move more specifically, and in the personal sphere.
In that part of the room still illuminated, the group of people who a few moments earlier had turned around hearing Sandro's words, returned to their own speeches. Roberto distinguished among them two rather young boys and a girl.
- So, Sandro, I have no problem confirming that I have often thought about the events happened in our eighteens. But why don't you want to admit it? Don't you think that every time you talk about life that was simpler at that age, about the fact that this area has been off-limits to you since you're dating Laura... and I could mention other cases... you're somehow refreshing your memories about Beaulard? You put behind a wall so many things that at that time used to make you happy, in order to comfortably do what you do now without too many hassles: a bit like many people who date a girl they don't really like, just so as not to be alone.
- If you are referring to Laura, I would advise you to look at how you behaved with Federica.
- Yes, but it only happened at the beginning! - Roberto contested, getting upset in turn. He had been wrong in making that example.
- Sure, at the beginning... but, you know... - Sandro corrected himself.
- And anyway I wasn't referring to Laura, but to all the rest - Roberto added. Discussion was getting exasperated, in a turn that shouldn't have even been touched.
There was a pause. Giorgio looked at the two friends arguing animatedly and realized that he had never seen them so taken up by an argument. He remembered that it was normal for Roberto to warm up if someone challenged him without understanding his reasons, as had often happened when they were work colleagues. But Sandro, he didn't know him much and had never seen him get upset.
"They're close friends, in fact they have known each other for such a long time..." Giorgio justified them to himself. However, he didn't know that those two were often bringing discussions to those levels, when they met with two other long-time friends of theirs: the speed with which they exchanged concepts was their own shared element and their difference of points of view was the spring to complement each other.
After those last few sentences, however, the pause lengthened. Roberto thought back to his early days with Federica, when he was soon tired of many of her behaviors and took refuge in memories of Beaulard partly out of spite towards her, partly because they were reminding him of a life different from the one that, in that period, he could not stand.
Instead, Sandro stopped to think about his friend's accusations. It could be true that the substratum of all his decisions was, in any case, the time of his eighteens, the time in which everybody's character gets formed. But, that he had gone covering up the beautiful things that, against his will, had been lost since that time, this didn't sound possible to him. His current life, his job, his firm were the highest expression of himself: everything had been built by means of his work. And what wasn't perfect just needed more time to become such. "We should have more money..." he used to say, when they started discussing things that could be done in the future. Of course, at times he also let himself go with statements like "moments like those will never be back".
- But I'm just joking, as I say those things - Sandro went on, breaking the silence. - Just imagine if I can actually start thinking about memories, with all I've got to do.
This sentence rekindled the discussion. Roberto interpreted it as a further confirmation of his theory about Sandro, and waited to see a sign of perplexity on his face, which, however, wasn't coming. Then he decided to completely change subject, not before having caught Giorgio's gaze which somehow confirmed his thoughts about him. "He should know he's contradicting himself," he was thinking.
- Okay... then I've got no further ideas. This one looked to me a pretty good theory, but if you fail it... - he went on, disappointed.
- Who's wanting to fail you? I'm just saying I don't think I'm the cause you claim.
Giorgio intervened, trying one more time to bring the discussion towards something concrete.
- Guys, so... this place is about to close - he announced, pointing to the empty table where the other three guys had been sitting a few minutes before. - Let us leave too, and continue our chat outside.
And so it was.
Soon the trio left the room, and at that moment Roberto remembered that he had quietly parked his car, without taking care to hide it. - Damn! Our car! I can never remember... - he exclaimed.
- What's wrong? - Giorgio asked him. - It's okay, isn't it?
Indeed, car was in its place. No one had touched it and at most it could have been the subject of some chat from passers-by.
In a few minutes the Golf covered the few kilometers separating Oulx from Beaulard and immediately afterwards the three were back in the clearing where they had left their car the previous night. It was almost half past one when they crossed the hotel door and reached the room.
They were quite tired, but not so much physically as from the psychological point of view: they were now caught in a circle of hypotheses, alternatives, possible explanations that each time forced them to make profound mental leaps, usually orchestrated by Roberto.
They weren't satisfied with the discussion they had had in the latter part of the evening. More than a day had passed and there was no idea in sight about how to solve their problem, except Roberto's theory: a theory which, however, still didn't propose a way out.
And he was still meaning to continue discussing his idea, but could not see his friends much convinced. Sandro, in particular, was mulling something again: he greeted the other two friends with a quick "goodnight" and got ready to sleep. The other two did the same.

* * *

What had been connecting and linking Roberto and Sandro the most to Beaulard, in those months immediately following famous New Year's Eve (of which they were now about to be spectators again) had obviously been their respective girls.
Sandro had been dating Francesca for a couple of years at the time, and Stefania was Francesca's friend with whom Roberto had "fallen in love" in those three days. For a long time the two, who had only relatively recently got to know each other at the time, had spent weekends, dinners and more together, each one thinking about their own love story.
Sandro was already considering getting married to Francesca. They had practically grown up together, as he always said, and were almost at the right age to start a life together. They never quarreled, and their parents had known each other for some time.
The story of Stefania and Roberto had instead been more varied. Although they had never really been together, Roberto came to know many things about her, both thanks to Francesca and the special experiences and taste of those months. High school diploma, driving license, first holidays on his own, the first girlfriends... all of this happened under the sign of Stefy. And Rossella, his great friend who was supposed to go on vacation with them to Paris, served as his spiritual advisor at that time. "Maybe it's because of those talks that you decided to enroll in psychology studies!" Roberto often used to think.
She was a schoolmate of his, a girl who attended the third of another section when Roberto was in fifth grade. They had met in summer of '84.
Roberto, after the end of that school year, had returned to their school several times, in July, to attend somebody's else exams: the professors had long insisted on the importance of observing some oral examinations, in order to prepare for their turn, the following year.
Rossella lived very close to the school, and used to hang out often around that area with her friends. The mutual sympathy had manifested itself after some time they had met, and this had pleased both her and Roberto, because they both considered themselves rather shy and didn't have many friends of the opposite sex. In a short time they had bonded a lot: they had exchanged postcards during the holidays and in the following school year they had started meeting each other, every day at school.
New Year's Eve romance in Beaulard had happened when Roberto was convinced that he did feel something special for Rossella: as it often happens, an impromptu "love at first sight" had swept away what to shy Roberto had looked like a tender love affair with a normal girl who saw things exactly like him.
She was among the first to notice the change... beyond Sandro, who obviously had lived the story in close touch with Roberto. She didn't show much surprise, she didn't turn away from him, but she was very close to him in that troubled period: she seemed to be so much older than him, despite being almost two years younger.

“It'd been much better, I'm sure, if Rossella had left together with us”, thought Roberto. In so many occasions he, whenever dubious or uncertain or simply in sorrow, had found relieve and help just by talking to her even on the phone.
“If only we could get in touch with her…”

* * *

The morning after Sandro and Giorgio opened their eyes at about the same time, whereas Roberto seemed to be willing to sleep further, possibly till late.
At about eleven a.m., he opened his eyes too. - You wouldn't want to swear on it, but you can actually sleep quite well on these beds... - he started talking.
- I can see that! I was thinking you wanted to keep on sleeping... since we seem to be unable to find any kind of solution, as we're awake - Giorgio replied him.
- That might be a good idea... we just let time flow and see what's happening. Let's go through New Year's Eve, then possibly some more days... maybe everything will revert to the proper way as it was, by itself. Maybe our own thoughts will "straighten" back - he added, glancing at Sandro who was returning a similar, although angry, gaze.
- D'you know a thing? - Roberto went on, getting seated over his bed, - I've been thinking about one thing. I believe we should go to Turin and talk to Rossella... Rossella, the one from our old circle of friends...
- Why? Is she aware of our presence here? - Giorgio asked him.
- No, she isn't...
- Then tell me why we'd be allowed to talk to her and not to other people... - Sandro asked then.
- I'm not sure, it's just a feeling I have. But, since we need someone to help us, she, who's a close friend of mine... of ours, she might be the right person. And moreover she's graduating in psychology... that is, she'll be...
- Me too, I know people who could help us: she's not the only one. But, above all, I don't understand how it is that, to her, we "men of the future" can talk but cannot with others - urged Sandro.
- Well, of course there's no concrete explanation. But she's the girl who was closest to me in those months of 1985 immediately following Beaulard: she got to know me in depth, and you too, and Stefania and Francesca, by dint of spending so many days talking about them.
- Ah, but then you're still there, with your theory of superpowers of the mind...
- Of course, that's my premise: if it's valid, she'll surely be of help to us. But, in any case, there are no other ways to go, for now. Or did you think of anything else? - Roberto asked Sandro.
- No, I have been thinking of a lot of things, but I haven't found any explanations to oppose your silly idea, damn it...
- But, sorry, didn't you just say that under no circumstances should a person be made to know his or her future prematurely... under penalty of serious upheaval in their own life? - intervened Giorgio, who in those minutes had reflected on Roberto's proposal.
- Yes, but in this case we'll only behave like strangers asking for help from an ordinary person. The fact that she's our friend will not necessarily have to be revealed, nor our true origin... at least not immediately... - His voice became more shaky: - I don't know, - Roberto went on - I still don't have a clear idea of this plan... but something tells me it should be the right way of acting.
The other two friends were skeptical. On the one hand, it looked like a real, all too obvious possibility to ask for someone's help: there was no need to explain that the three of them were traveling through time, to go to someone to find a solution to their issue. “Indeed”, Giorgio was thinking, “why go to a little girl? It's better to go straight and speak to someone who can explain what happened, such as a physicist or a psychologist or... "
But then he remembered the premise of that speech: their transposition into the past had been caused by their own minds, according to what Roberto said, and if that was really the case, a person close to them was needed in order to find a way out.
And the assumption wasn't sure at all. If Giorgio confined himself to considering it an absurdity, even if perfectly logical in their current situation and therefore acceptable, Sandro wanted to justify it somehow before accepting. And this didn't seem possible to him.
- Going to Rossella's and tell her what happened to us... - Sandro mused as he approached the window. He was wearing his pajamas and the outside temperature was quite cold, so he avoided opening it, but he leaned his face against the glass for a moment.
- And she should be able to automatically bring us back to our time? But what is she, a bionic woman or a supernatural entity? - Sandro continued sarcastically. - If I'm not mistaken, you said you had met in the summer... a year or... what were they? Two years before the diploma, that you met her every now and then until New Year's Eve and then you became very close friends 'cause you always talked to her about Stefania and Beaulard. You and she have told me this story several times at the pub. But I still fail to see what she could do for us now.
Rossella had begun hanging out in the group together with Sandro and Roberto towards the end of 1985, that is, some time after the events that Sandro had just recalled. She was nearly three years younger than her two friends, but she was way more mature than many of her peers. For a couple of years they were very close, the three of them, and together with another boy and another girl they made the core of the company. They shared experiences of all kinds, from disco-pub-brioche nights to camping holidays, to micro-love stories. It was also thanks to Rossella that Sandro overcame his crisis of not getting married to Francesca, shortly thereafter.
“She's our reference wedding counselor!”, Sandro and Roberto used to say after some time. She had helped them both, at different times, to get out of that kind of crisis.
But when he started dating Laura, he stopped spending his spare time with Roberto and Rossella's company. Laura became very important to him and he preferred to follow her around, not without some criticism from his old friends: but you know, these things are normal. So much, that both Roberto and Rossella settled down a few months later, and the legendary group practically disappeared.
However, things went in such a way that Roberto and Rossella remained in closer relationship than Sandro. Also because their stories were less fortunate than that one of Sandro and Laura, and therefore they also interspersed some periods of solitude, in more recent years. That's why Sandro no longer remembered Rossella so warmly: this too was part of his character, even though he was certainly still quite fond of her.
- She could help us in a quest for our innermost thoughts, in order to discover the causes of what happened to us.
- But, then... let's reason over it. We are practically on the verge of reliving an experience that struck us a lot a long time ago, which probably marked our lives and undoubtedly brought us closer by making possible all the things we've done, from working together with each other and with Carlo - Sandro said, apparently calmer. - You said that we might have lost sight of some of the ideals, dreams if you like, that we had back then, and that therefore, for our own good, let's say, something inside ourselves has brought us back here to allow us to recover the correct way.
- Yeah... - Roberto commented.
- Now, I still don't accept this. But not so much for its sci-fi connotations, which all in all I could also take for good, having no other explanation in sight... I oppose this fact that you think we'd have lost sight of the "right path", as we called it before. I've already told you, several times, that I don't think I've ever drawn from the past some ideas for my present life: I am more inclined to think that, as in that age, even afterwards I behaved in a manner consistent with my personality. Sure, I may have made mistakes, but who doesn't make them? But I wouldn't say that, due to this, I've lost sight of a path traced a long time ago.
Sandro's speech was perfect and coherent, as usual, when he got into it. Only chance to win an argument was to undermine his foundations, prove their wrongness, but Roberto knew it wasn't easy at all. It had happened uncountable times in the past that he had arguments with Sandro, and it had always been very difficult to convince him of anything: in this he had actually always been equal and consistent with himself.
But Roberto was really convinced that his friend had lost sight of some of those dreams, and he had been trying to make him understand that for several years now. In this sense, his theory of travelling into the past applied perfectly.
- Back to Rossella... - Roberto said, trying to bring the conversation back to the previous topic, but was immediately interrupted.
Someone was knocking at the door. Roberto shifted his gaze from Sandro to Giorgio, questioningly.
- And who can it be now? - Giorgio asked.
- Bah... - Roberto answered skeptically. The three guys stopped talking, and for a few seconds there was absolute silence in the room. Then knocking was heard again from outside.
The three exchanged a few glances, then Giorgio went to the door and opened it. In front of him, at the door, stood the lady, owner of the hotel, the one who had welcomed him and Roberto as they entered the hotel.
- Guys - said the lady - I just wanted to tell you that if you want to have lunch you should let us know a little in advance, so that we can organize ourselves better in the kitchen, me and my sister-in-law...
Roberto, who in the meantime had calmed down after the temporary jolt that the unexpected visit had caused him, approached the door and greeted the lady in turn.
- Thank you... but we haven't decided yet. Actually we haven't even decided yet if we're leaving today... in fact we wanted to ask you if it were possible for us to stay one more day...
The lady looked at him with a mixture of reproach and severity, like an elderly mother, and replied - no, I think we'll have no problems until tomorrow... but try to tell me in advance, at least a little, next time.
- I know, you're right... - Roberto continued, not too firm - the fact is that... our friends cannot arrive in Paris tonight and therefore we would prefer to wait one more day before leaving. Anyway, thank you for your understanding and... I don't know, but I don't think we're going to have lunch at the hotel... will we, boys? - he said, turning his head to his other two friends.
Sandro and Giorgio nodded. The lady seemed vaguely disappointed by that answer, but then she, leaning slightly into the room, chased with her eyes Giorgio, who in the meantime had moved away from the entrance. When she saw him, added in a louder voice, as if to be sure she would be heard by him: - okay... I was just thinking that if you haven't had breakfast yet, there are still hot croissants down at the bar... I'm sure that you, Giorgio, would appreciate them.
Giorgio turned around in amazement: the lady had already cataloged him, after the previous day meal!
Sandro began to laugh and Roberto restrained himself from laughter because he was still not far from the lady of the hotel. Then Giorgio added: - ah, that's fantastic, lady... I'll settle down for a moment and then I'm coming to the hall. I'm certainly not giving up on a hot croissant at this hour...
Roberto intervened saying - I think I'll come too... indeed, I think we'll all come, right, Sandro? - The latter nodded his head in affirmative mood, as he finished his laugh.
- Then I'll wait for you. Hurry up! - said the lady, closing the door behind herself.
- Thinking about it... - Roberto commented. - That time they behaved like this as well... or didn't they? I don't remember, Sandro...
Sandro thought about it for a moment, then replied to his friend: - well, in such a homemade way, you mean? I'm not sure now, in fact... Boh! I remember that the management was quite familiar, yes, and therefore they supported us quite a lot.
Roberto actually didn't remember much of the hotel itself. He had been there, with Sandro, a few months after the New Year's Eve 1985 and he was in the midst of the sad period, following his romance with Stefy. He therefore had several memories of the feelings he'd experienced with friends from Beaulard, but he hadn't paid too much attention to the hotel, beyond the appearance of the managers and the room they had been given.
- I was telling you... going back to Rossella - Roberto resumed the previous speech. As he continued the thread of previously interrupted conversation, he noticed that the period spent in that hotel in 1985 coincided with the very days that had brought him and Rossella very close. The correspondence of the dates surprised him a little... there had been, as we have already said, a period in his life in which he had noticed that many events could be connected to each other on the basis of temporal coincidences, even if in actual reality, there was nothing linking the facts that his mind was able to match so well. Then he realized that this was a rather stupid and useless game, a pure mental exercise that he often did just because he remembered so many things well, he then stopped making judgments based on those associations and started calling them "tricks of fate”, empty resemblances created by chance…
But, given the contingent situation in which he found himself, this one seemed to him a possibility to take into account as well: that hotel was a kind of focal point in space and time, and around this four-dimensional epicenter he could see moving people and things in his life.
- Wait... I wasn't done yet - Sandro interrupted him again. Roberto was a little annoyed at not being able to continue his speech, but he was still immersed in his reflection and let his friend speak. - Knowing you, I'd be more inclined to think that you have lost sight of something that was familiar to you at that time, or that at least you are convinced of it. And therefore you are the cause of this revival. How many times have you been telling me about your associations of ideas, thanks to which you were able to connect facts and people completely unrelated to each other... If it's true that we've got hidden powers in our mind, you have probably managed to recreate a virtual world made up of a cocktail of your memories.
Sandro's analysis continued to be extremely serious and logical, as he knew it to be, when he was in control of the situation and knew the basis of the problem well. But not only that, he had also shown that the powers of his mind or at least his sixth sense were fully functional, since he had understood what Roberto was thinking before he expressed it.
“He has recovered from the bewilderment of the first day”, thought Roberto. He no longer wanted to continue the conversation: he stood for a moment to mull over something, then finished dressing, put his shoes on and walked towards the door.
- So, are we going to eat these croissants? - he asked the other two. Sandro looked at him for a moment astonished at his behavior, and so did Giorgio; then, however, Sandro realized that some of his last lines had touched his friend.
This was how Roberto behaved when he felt Sandro opposing him: his support was very important for him and whenever he felt him hostile in some discussion or in some important choice, he was hurt as it hardly happened with other people. Some of his most violent fights from a few years earlier were born just like this, when he still used to lose his temper often: it was the first times in which, according to him, Sandro had begun to behave false-ish, when relating with friends. Setting bogus appointments like the ones from New Year's Eve before, so to speak. Then he had grown up, he had stopped getting angry with the boss, with friends, with girlfriends: he used to just stop and reflect on what he was saying to him.
- Okay... okay... - Sandro replied, bypassing that thought. Giorgio finished dressing up too and quickly walked towards the bedroom door.

* * *

Croissants were still warm enough, even though they had lost some of their fragrance. This finding was in line with what Roberto remembered about the hotel nine years earlier: owners worked hard for the customers, but hardly achieved satisfactory results. They were to be appreciated for their commitment though...
The three boys sat down a short distance from the counter, at a small square table.
- You know - Roberto said - actually there's also another theory in time travel: that the human being who has traveled doesn't realize his displacement, as his memories automatically adapt to those of the moment in which he comes to be. But this isn't the case for us, because we are well aware of our memories related... to the future.
- I can see you regained your breath after this snack! - Giorgio answered, smiling with his mouth still partially full, as he finished his third brioche.
- Yeah... - Sandro noted.
- Yes, well... it's just that earlier I was thinking about something... what I still wanted to say about Rossella, is that actually it's about those usual coincidences, which may have no value. But maybe they don't have any in the real world, while in this so... strange situation we find ourselves in, they might be perfectly legitimate. What do you think? You too, Giorgio, who are possibly listening to him and me talking about facts that you don't actually know... yet you too are here with us and you have to try to find a way out of this problem.
Roberto was still very serious and more drawn than normal. He hadn't yet overgone the excitement from a few minutes before.
Giorgio was almost surprised to hear Roberto address him in that way: the question made sense anyway and therefore he answered him immediately, even if he didn't know exactly what to say.
- You know, guys, I'm fully confident in you two... I think you know what you are doing and I'm sure that if you don't mess with each other you'll be able to figure out how to get out of this situation!
- Yes... but what do you actually think? - Roberto urged him.
- Well… as for my idea of what happened the day before yesterday and the fact that we're in the… past, I think what you said makes quite a lot of sense, Robi.
- Yes... but I mean: you don't know this girl, Rossella... you've been knowing him and me enough, but only for a short time. You are taking all the explanations that Sandro and I give for good, but... what if you were the cause of all this? Or at least a catalyst element? Why don't you try and think about it too, at least a little?
Giorgio stood silent. He didn't remember that his friend had ever attacked him like this: their friendship was above all spontaneous, and they hardly made long, in-depth talks, as we have already seen. Usually, when they met, they used to spend half the time joking with each other about their friends or colleagues, and then they talked about practical things: car, girls, job. At that awkward situation, he didn't know exactly what to say. Sandro was about to intervene, having noticed Roberto's somewhat strange words, but then he had stopped because, in fact, he'd have liked to see what Giorgio was indeed thinking.
Roberto felt the silence following his questions weighing like a block of concrete over his head. Then, after a few moments, he decided to resume the conversation.
- Come on, I didn't want to cut you off, Giorgio... I'm sure you've thought about our problem too... It's just that it bothers me to play this part as a leading actor for so long. On the other hand, if I weren't playing the part, it'd mean that I am the author of this situation, and then I would feel even more guilty...
- In fact, I'm helping you to realize your exact role in this affair - Sandro replied.
- Sure... thanks for this... - Roberto went on, with a bit of cold sarcasm. Then he continued: - so, what are we doing today?
- I'd like to go back to my room for a moment to brush my teeth - Giorgio answered.
- Yes, I wanted to do it too. And you, Sandro, are you waiting for us here or are you coming up too?
- No, I'm coming too... I'll just drink a glass of water.
As he finished his sentence he turned to look for the lady, who wasn't at the bar at that moment. Not finding her, he got up from his chair and went to the dining room. After a few minutes, he got back with her and managed to get his glass. Giorgio, who had already set off with Roberto towards the stairs, thought better of it and went back to retrieve a glass of water as well.
- Sure, Giorgio, here you are... - the lady said, handing him the glass.

* * *

As soon as they returned to the room, Roberto went to the window and opened it up. He paused for a while to look outside as he heard his friends talking about future plans.
- Everyone agrees to sleep here one more day, then? - Giorgio asked.
Sandro replied immediately: - yeah, I really think that for now we don't have many other choices, do we?
He expected an answer from Roberto, who, however, was immersed in contemplating the landscape and had limited himself to an almost imperceptible nod. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, but the sunny morning had reminded him of a morning in which he had seen Stefania and Francesca, Sandro's ex-girlfriend, walking under that window, many years before. He didn't think he would ever go back to that place, throwing an eye out that same little window again. He was immersing himself in an attack of pure nostalgia, to the point that he was no longer even noticing that unlike the other times he had had a bout of nostalgia related to Beaulard, this time he could relive it all from the very beginning.
How many times in life does a man think "if I could live that situation again", and behold, now it became possible for him. Not only that, he could also possibly change something, although this possibility had been discarded a priori.
Maybe Sandro was right: he himself was the real cause of this scary situation, and neither of his two friends had anything to do with it. Maybe it was even just an illusion: maybe they weren't even really there with him... maybe he wasn't either. Anyway, why go to great lengths to think of some explanations? He was back to Beaulard, in 1984, and he might as well relive that scene, see that movie that he had been enjoying again and again in his mind for so long. Just let a few days, a few weeks go by... then he would do something.
Not hearing any answer from his friend, Sandro called him back: - So, Robi, what are you saying? Are we staying here again tonight or not?
Roberto woke up from those thoughts and cleared his throat. Suddenly a thought formed in his mind. "Damn... if Federica could see me in this state... I don't want to let myself go like this... never again."
Then he answered Sandro. - Yes, yes, of course we're staying here. I was just looking out, to see if I had any other ideas, since the one including Rossella is gone...
- Well, gone... I just tried to show you that I don't think it makes much sense. Watching you like that, looking out towards those mountains, reminds me of the first months of 1985, when you used to stare into the void looking for Stefania. If you've been thinking about her all this time, maybe it could be good for you to relive that story... and that's probably why you brought us here with you - continued Sandro.
Roberto definitively shook himself from the thoughts in which he had immersed himself. Those words, which until then had only touched his conscious sphere, took on a concrete form. He carried out Sandro's entire speech and was amazed. - I... have been thinking about it all this time? But that's not the case... I don't care about Stefania, I've never been interested in anything except for what happened here...
His tone had become calm again, but the words were very cold and harsh.
- Is it possible that after fifteen years you still don't know me? - he continued. - Generally speaking, yes, I would like to review exactly how things went, to judge those facts with a more mature mind. It would be good for all of us... Especially for you: why don't you have the courage to say what you really think about that period? Try rummaging in your mind and see if you still find any trace of what you were like then. Then when you were less sure of yourself... less snooty... It's crazy, Laura made you like this in the first year you were dating... and now she complains that you treat her badly. It is clear, your modesty has ended up under your shoes, your sense of friendship... - Roberto tried to stop his outburst and regain his calm.
In that meanwhile Giorgio tried to intervene in the altercation, but Sandro immediately started to speak again.
- But I've not changed... I'm the same old friend... I don't understand what you're referring to... Laura... friendship... I behave consistently with my ideals, and if she doesn't want to accept them, well, I don't know what to do.
He paused. - See, I feel no need to review what happened in those days.
- Well, now that we are at it, we'll watch it again: it can still help us to make comparisons between how we are and how we wanted to become at the time.
- Yes, sure... you might be right... But I'm already sure I feel like myself then, improved as much as possible in ten years... And above all... I see you: in my opinion, you don't give a damn about finding a serious way out of this situation and you create out of nowhere this story of shared thoughts and the friend who will help you get rid of those thoughts. You probably also want to step in and change things, those things that have bothered you for years.
- Okay... put it as you want: if there is someone who is obsessed with his past, in the sense that he doesn't want to hear about it, it seems to me that it is you... Enough... I'm going to take a walk, since we have no other ideas.
Roberto, further annoyed by Sandro's last sentences, opened the door and went out. Giorgio stood there with his mouth open and his pacifying sentence cut in half. - I was in fact saying... let's avoid arguing like this... for no reason... And now, where are you going? - Giorgio asked Sandro.
- Well, he'll go to Turin, to Rossella's, maybe. He's pretty stubborn...
- But hadn't it been said that we shouldn't split up for any reason?
- Well, I think that we too should go to Turin anyway, if we want to understand something more of this story.
- Yes, but acting like this we risk making a mess... it's better that we go together, right? Come on, let's get out too... - Giorgio urged him.
- No, come on, I'd rather wait for Robi to calm down... when he behaves like that he becomes unmanageable.
- I've never seen him get so angry...
- Yes, you're right... it used to happen much more often. I had never seen him recently either.
Giorgio wasn't a cold calculator, but in that moment it seemed clear to him that the latest events fit perfectly with what Roberto said.
- Excuse me, Sandro, but all of this supports your thesis...
- That is?
- Only when arguing with you, he does get so hot... and only with him can you allow yourself to make such in-depth talks about mind, about personalities... to give him a series of judgments, how can I say... heavy... so heavy that many others would send you to hell. In my opinion you too are really very similar, and therefore the cause of our current situation could be both of you.
- Uhmmm... yes... I don't know... Oh well, let's wait for him to come back, while we decide what to do, whom to go to...
- Oh, well... in this case I'll just run quickly to tell him we're waiting for him here. I don't feel like letting him go like this...
Giorgio rushed out of the room and quickly went down the stairs. There was no trace of Roberto, so he looked out the hotel door and, not seeing him, went out. “Beaulard is very small, Roberto said” he thought, as he headed towards the street that seemed to head to the station.

 Chapter 9

Giorgio joined Roberto at the train station, after a few laps around the hotel.
As soon as he had left the hotel, he immediately ran to the station, but couldn't spot anyone. He'd made a quick tour around the countryside then, and as he got back to the railroad he thought he saw a familiar silhouette. Tired from the long run, he whistled a couple of times and when he was sure Roberto had seen him, he stopped running.
- Hey, where did you go before? - Giorgio asked.
- I've been at the stationery... that is, that shop up there which sells every kinda things, to get a pen, a newspaper and a notepad to write the note.
- What note?
- The one for Rossella. I decided to go down to Turin right now, while it's not dark yet, and then return here by midnight, catching the last train. What are you doing instead?
- Well, I came to check where you were going... You said it was better not to split up... why do you want to go down alone, now?
- What Sandro said was too much in my head. I want to try and leave him alone for a while, so maybe he meditates on what I've been trying to make him understand for a long time. Besides that... I don't really care what he really thinks. Notwithstanding the fact that I am convinced that we won't leave this place unless we deal with this issue...
- Let's trust in your friend...
- Yes... she's our only hope. Sandro confided a lot to her and was very attached to her. At least until he changed...
- One alternative would be for you and him to clarify what you really think about your past, present and future lives... It's not true, of course, that you don't care what he thinks...
- Yes, well, yes... You too, I'm sorry for what I told you earlier... I just wanted to get away from that round of questions and answers with Sandro, and then I was trying to involve you too. Actually I am very convinced that you don't have much to do with it... indeed your only function here seems to be to help us.
- Thank you, but I don't know if...
Hearing the train approaching, Roberto took his ticket out of his pocket. Then he turned to Giorgio but, before he could speak, he said to him: - wait for me, I'll go straight to buy a ticket too.
Roberto wanted to object something, but then he let him go.

* * *

Sandro had been in his room alone for over two hours. It was nearly five in the afternoon and neither of the other two had returned. He was amazed by it all... but not too much. He imagined that Roberto wanted to meditate a little bit on what he had told him, and that Giorgio probably, being first of all a friend of his, had preferred to stay with him for a while. All normal.
The astonishment stemmed from the fact that he would have expected Giorgio to return in a short time, with or without Robi.
After the outburst he had in his room with Roberto, Giorgio's words had seemed very sensible to him. They had unexpectedly struck something in his inner self: this had amazed him, and he had begun to think about it, while he was waiting for his friends to return.

Once upon a time, when he was dating Francesca, he wasn't so sure of himself. This was a sure point in his life. His relationship with her had always been based on similarity, on adapting to one another. He had hardly taken unilateral initiatives: going out in the evening, going on holiday, friends... all of this was agreed together and each one was adapting to the other person's taste. This inevitably led to a leveling down of their lives, but it wasn't seen as a bad thing, since the two of them wanted to live together and get married, and therefore the most important thing was the two of them as a couple.
But then... they broke up. It was Francesca who left, and the main reason was the total lack of new ideas: friends, going out in the evening... Sandro was also aware of this situation, but to him it seemed inevitable, rational, and therefore he didn't think he had to break their relationship for it.
In the time that followed, in the crisis of those months, Sandro became quite attached to Roberto. They had been good friends for a long time, and they both enjoyed talking about a lot of science and making plans. Roberto was a little more open: in certain circumstances he was more ready to respond, to adapt to situations. He knew a lot of people, he was hardly ever home in the evening.
Probably as a reaction, Sandro felt a strong need to increase his character in the opposite direction to the one in which he had gone when he was dating Francesca, and he took many ideas from Roberto.
And then came Laura. Such a decay, similar to the one which had happened with Francesca was no longer supposed to happen, so he set their relationship on competition in everything: they would never settle down again, because every day one of them was bringing a challenge to the other. And Laura shared this philosophy: indeed, as Roberto said, it was she who endorsed this lifestyle.
So far, everything was clear enough in Sandro's mind. It was one of the fixed points in his life, well cataloged, well described in one of those periodic reports he used to make every now and then in his mind.
He felt decidedly grown and improved after that period: he had never understood why, vice versa, Roberto, after a season of very close friendship, had begun to criticize him.
He had been accused by his friend of having become a profiteer, too sure of himself, at times untrustworthy. And he never understood why.
Sandro was convinced that everything he did good before that "enlightenment", he was also doing afterwards: he had simply grown up and expanded his abilities to be more free to undertake any project. When Roberto challenged him, he couldn't help but thinking about feelings such as envy, emotionality. There was a long period of time in which Roberto eluded Sandro, inventing excuses not to go out in the same group, not to be involved in his projects. And Sandro continued to look for him for quite a while, because in any case he considered him a great friend, very close to him in his interests and choices. Then he gave up... 'cause anyhow by then he had met a lot of other people, he had Laura, he had given his job the turning point he was interested in... and everything was fine.
When they started hanging out again, their relationships had been very close again, but there was a kind of "hole", which concerned the middle years between '85 and the present tense. And every time they went back to talking about the "dreams" of the age of eighteen, behind the banal nostalgic chit-chat, you could see the two different positions: both of them had tried to grow and improve... but Sandro had taken to extremes, according to Roberto, the desire to impose himself and compete, while Roberto had tried to contain the most impulsive aspects of his character to become as reflective as Sandro.
Many times Roberto had thrown jokes like "at the Beaulard times you were more bearable", meaning that he preferred to remember Sandro, as a friend, as he was in those days. But generally the joke wasn't even understood: they went straight back to joking about the girls of the time, to their affairs. Indeed, in these cases Sandro would tease his friend, pointing out his perennial nostalgia for the past, and inability to think about the so-called more serious matters...
For this reason Sandro could not conceive of anything else, behind the references to the past that Roberto used to make to him, as opposed to Stefania or diploma or other concrete things of the time.
Yet, in a small crack, the mere fact that Giorgio had run after Roberto "not to let him away all alone" had struck him. And then that quote... heavy judgments... He and Roberto often made "in-depth talks about personalities": Sandro was fully aware that his friend was one of the few with whom he came to see things in such a similar way... But to him, he didn't seem to be giving heavy judgments: if anything, he was giving the appropriate judgments on each one. He judged when someone said smart things or not, and he acted accordingly. To think that Roberto, an extremely logical person, who judged people just like him and with whom he had such an affinity, would go mad because of his judgments, made no sense. To others it could happen, like Laura... it happened often, but in that case he was superior and felt entitled to express judgments.

Two hours had passed and Sandro was immersed in those thoughts. When he woke up and saw that neither of them had returned yet, he felt vaguely worried. His newfound confidence was based on the fact that Roberto's theories had proved to be quite valid and, above all, he had managed not to feel guilty, turning them against him. But being alone again, in that place, gave him a further feeling of uneasiness.
He decided to go out, in search of his two friends.
He expected to meet them in the hotel hall, perhaps intent on talking or having a drink: but as he went down, he could only spot a few tables dimly lit by artificial light, while outside it was definitely turning dark. So he walked out of the hotel.
Sandro noticed that, although it wasn't night yet, it was much colder than the night before. He put his hands in his pockets and took a first turn towards the ski-lifts. He thought that Roberto and Giorgio had gone to the station to get ready to go to Turin, and that they'd then have to go back to the hotel: not having returned yet, he thought that perhaps they were traveling around the village.
“Could it be, they chose to drive? No, Roberto would never do that… it's a big risk ”, he thought.
He passed the skilifts and headed for the sports shop. The landscape flowing in front of his eyes wasn't much different from the one he had last seen four or five years earlier. Going down the street that led back to the main road, however, he noticed a detail: on that corner wall was missing the writing that Roberto had pointed out to him dozens of times, an inscription that had been engraved by someone from their company on New Year's Eve 1985. Because of this, Sandro regained consciousness of the fact that the town was still in the exact conditions of that famous Eve. And, few moments later, he saw a familiar face...
To the other person, his face looked familiar too: but she didn't greet him. She just stared at him for a few seconds as they crossed, and then she continued on her way. Francesca's mum... Sandro realized. How long had he not seen her! He then stopped and turned around: when he saw that the lady too had turned back for a moment, he was tempted to call her by the name... but then Roberto's words came back to him. Be careful what you do with people from the past. And so he turned quickly again, and walked on. A few meters later he saw Francesca's house and this reminded him of many little details. He suddenly looked at his watch and saw that it reported December 29th. For a moment he had thought that at Francesca's house, or worse, around the streets in Beaulard, there was also his younger self...
“But no”, he then thought, “what day did we come in here that time? For New Year's Eve, I think, so the 31st morning... no, maybe the 30th? Well, certainly not on 29th..."
He had calmed down. But then he thought that there was certainly at least Francesca in the house... Francesca before her wedding... Francesca before having a child with the one she'd married after a few years that the two of them had parted away.
He really wanted to go and have a look. Then he thought better of it, and decided to take another tour around the block: in the meantime he was mindful of the many moments spent with her, when going to her home and meet her mother and father was the norm... how much time had passed since. For a moment the certainty of his current relationship with Laura cracked... and he thought of the tenderness, of the little things of which the evenings at Francesca's house were made. Again, for a moment, he was tempted to go to her and give her some hints about her future...
But when he reached the entrance to the apartment building, he froze. “I'm letting myself be influenced by Roberto”, he thought. "I'm starting to think as he does, with nostalgia, his dreams made of 'if only'..."
Yet he couldn't deny that the idea that his history could be changed fascinated him. He was nonetheless an experimenter. He would have liked to try and see what would happen: but Roberto's words rang in his head again. If you tell her something and make her marry you, instead of him, you will no longer exist here... The paradox was lurking there, and could easily destroy him.
Then he quickly walked away, thinking about Francesca's mother's face and what she might have thought.

* * *

Giorgio and Roberto left at six twenty for Turin. Their destination: Rossella's home.
There had been no particular problems in purchasing tickets for the train: both Giorgio and Roberto had been careful to only use banknotes that were already in use in 1984, and for the rest it just meant a very trivial journey lasting about two hours. Roberto had done it many times when he still didn't own a car, and so had Giorgio, who often went skiing in Bardonecchia on Sundays and preferred to catch a train to avoid traffic jams.
After boarding the half-empty train, the two sat facing each other in one of the few non-deserted compartments. Giorgio took the newspaper that Roberto had bought, and the latter took a pen and paper and began to wonder about what he should write to Rossella.
Giorgio began leafing through the newspaper and enjoyed reading as fresh those news that he knew were referring to the events of an almost remote past. Sometimes he noticed some discrepancy with his own memories, and then he always blamed his memory which, even for the news of the neighborhood, had never been very precise.
- But - he asked his friend at a certain point - if we ended up in a past different from ours? Couldn't 1984 be a different one from the one we have experienced? That would change things a bit, wouldn't it?
But Roberto was sleeping. He had fallen asleep very quickly, Giorgio thought: he still had a pen and paper on his legs, but the sheet had stayed blank. Hence Giorgio went back to reading.
More than an hour passed like this, with Giorgio reading the newspaper and Roberto sleeping. At one point Roberto woke up and looked around: there was no one in the compartment besides Giorgio.
- Are we almost there, Gio? - he asked.
- Oh, welcome back... Yes, I mean, I don't know... I don't know all of the stops by heart. But... how long did you say it should take?
- About two hours... it's a quarter to eight, we're almost there.
- Uhmmm, I can see you haven't written much...
- I just don't know what to write... I haven't dated sixteen-year-old girls for quite a while... I don't know whether to write something like an invitation to a party or a serious letter.
- Keep in mind, however, that this is a girl who is, yes, sixteen, but she's is still from the same period as us. It's not like you have to invite a little girl… from the 90s.
- Yeah... this is true.
- You could say that you are an older cousin of Roberto who knows her and...
- Let's not talk nonsense. So, let me understand: that year, I told more or less everyone that I was going away on New Year's Eve for a few days. I was very busy because it was the first time I was going alone, so I had told everyone and certainly her too. If I remember correctly we had seen or phoned each other again after Christmas.
- But did you invite her to come with you?
- What? Are you kidding... I was shy, and we barely knew each other - he said, with a half smile.
- Then you can do it now...
- Huh? - Roberto replied, amazed. - But... actually... Judging from how we bonded in those months, maybe she'd have liked that... that is, she would like this. I could write her that we decided to have a big party on the mountains and that my friend's girlfriend (I told her about this) asked me to invite more people.
- Perfect. And if you leave your ticket in the box, you don't need to be seen. Do you know her phone number, anyway?
- Yes... yes, I do. The old one... Yes, I do.
Train arrived at the Porta Nuova station on time.
Turin was the same as nine years before: the station was exactly as it was before the restorations. All the information points were gone and, as they went out into the street, Roberto and Giorgio saw what seemed to be the scene of a retrospective film about the 80s. The shops windows, cars, buses.
- We should have some time to walk around - Roberto exclaimed - and see how things were ten years ago.
- But listen, if you go to the library and get the newspapers of the time and maybe some videotapes won't it be the same? - Giorgio answered him.
- Well, not really... Oh well, if I come to think of it, maybe you're right. Besides, it hasn't changed much. It would be different if we ended up in the Middle Ages or in ancient Roman times!
“It is only in the eyes of who I was at that time that everything seems to be quite different... ten years of life are still a long time”, Roberto thought to himself again.
- Anyway, I would go and see what our alter-egos are doing on an evening like this... - Giorgio continued.
- Yeah, that would be nice. It would also be nice to go around the world and make some small changes: if you think about it, the power of going back in time is absolute and, if used well, it could improve many things in our lives.
Roberto realized, however, that what he was saying wasn't at all sure and, since Federica was coming to mind every time he thought about his present, he decided not to try any kind of experiment. The fear of losing her was stronger than anything else.
“Sandro would say that I'm aging”, thought Roberto. Once upon a time, he would have tried everything, especially if it meant scientific experiments: with computers, with machines, with electricity, like when his mother scolded him as a child because he was always there to handle the power wiring without having yet turned ten. Then he had stopped: he had realized, and as usual Federica had influenced him a lot on this aspect, that he wasn't always allowed to try and do something just because there was a chance of doing it. Or just because you felt confident in what you were about to do. Sometimes one's own security could easily be undermined from an external point of view.

They arrived at the bus stop which was going to carry them almost to Rossella's house.
- You could also catch that bus over there and, if we switched, we would have come closer, but if we go this way we'll be quicker - Roberto explained to his friend. - And then, we take a walk.
Giorgio nodded his head yes. - I wanted to get the tickets from the vending machine... but unfortunately they haven't invented it yet - he continued. - I'll go back to the station to buy them...
Roberto waited for his friend, leaning against a pole of the old shelter, and at that moment he was quite happy, although perplexed, with his situation. He saw his own city and felt he could describe the near future of every detail, and this gave him a feeling of power. He felt a strong urge to talk to everyone he met: he wanted to hear what they thought of the coming year and many other things.
Giorgio came back and found his friend again in a sleep-like state. But this time his eyes were open: after a moment Roberto turned to him smiling and murmured: "it's really fascinating".

In a real short time they got at Rossella's house.
From the center of the road you could see Roberto's high school, despite the usual fog that enveloped Turin like every winter.
The two sat down on a step near Rossella's home and prepared the note. They thought of leaving it in the mailbox, so they had to wait for someone to come out of the building in order to enter the hall.
- Luckily there's no porter's lodge... - said Giorgio.
- No, no, there's no danger. I think she'll see it tomorrow morning, and let's hope she'll be able to reach us by the afternoon.
Having accomplished what seemed to them a real important mission, the two walked back to the bus stop which would take them back to the station.
- Who knows... - Roberto exclaimed.
- I can see you're not that sure... - his friend replied.
- It's just that... we are trying a kind of psychotherapy... back in time... to fix such an unreal situation...
- Come on, leave these doubts alone... Rather, tell me how is it that this Rossella became so important for you... and for Sandro.
Then Roberto began to tell him the most important events of his friendship with Rossella.

* * *

Sandro had been touring the area for quite a while. The thoughts in which he had immersed himself had taken him very far, in time, space and feelings.
When he realized he had been walking for four hours now, he remembered that he had initially gone out to look for his two friends. Not having found them yet, he had decided to run back to the hotel.
The cold air had completely enveloped him, even if Sandro hadn't noticed it, as long as he was immersed in his thoughts. Returning to his room he had found that Roberto and Giorgio weren't there yet, and had realized that presumably they had gone to Turin without him.
All of this had touched him further.
He felt quite alone, but still immersed in those thoughts from the afternoon he didn't pay too much attention to it. He decided that he was very hungry and that he was also quite tired, so decided to go for a pizza.
He went to the restaurant near the station, one of the few other places he knew well, there in Beaulard.
The place was quite busy. Sandro sat down at a small table and ordered a pizza and a beer. "The pizza here wasn't bad at all..." he thought. Then, looking around, he noticed that even this place wasn't much different from how he had seen it the last few times, with Laura or with Roberto.
As the pizzeria warm atmosphere reassured him, Sandro's thoughts returned to consciousness. And, moving away from reflections on his life that had populated his mind in the afternoon, he was now focusing on the present again.
And he didn't feel very well.
To begin with, eating out alone wasn't much fun... Plus Sandro noticed how the place wasn't, after all, so welcoming, nor the pizza so good.
"I guess I've also developed a bit of fever, because I am not really tasting this stuff..." he thought initially, touching his forehead.
But, even if he struggled a little to admit it, in the end he came to the conclusion that this place... no place... had anything special, if you abstracted it from the context in which it had given any special feeling. In that precise moment, Sandro was out of time and being there at that time was meaningless to him.
“He always says this thing, that every place, every date, every name has a meaning for each of us, only if we connect them to the feelings we felt at that moment. Like smells... "
It seemed to him that he could see again and again all the times in which, over the years, Roberto had convinced his friends to go back to that pizzeria. "He was always thinking to Stefania... it was like he came here exclusively out of his desire to meet her... by sheer chance."
“Yet, there's nothing else beautiful here, except feelings, jokes, experiences we had in 1985 and in the following years. Seen as is tonight, this place is completely anonymous. It's '85... with a different flavor. That's not what we know. "
Waiters, noisy people, coffee… everything continued to pass around him as he tried to find a foothold in the nothingness that was swallowing him.
Sandro returned to the hotel at eleven o'clock and lay down on his bed. He was so tired that he didn't even hear Roberto and Giorgio coming back after a couple of hours.

The two boys had returned with the train at 11:14 pm, the last train to Bardonecchia in the evening: they were quite satisfied with what they'd done, and now they were confident in fate, as far as Rossella was concerned. Arriving near the hotel, they realized that they didn't have keys to the external door, because in the rush of the afternoon no one had taken them.
- Lights is on, in the hall, - observed Giorgio.
- Yeah... let's go and see.
The two went to the door, turned the handle and opened it. Telling each other to be as careful and silent as possible, they entered the room and looked towards the rack, looking for their room key.
At that moment one of the ladies appeared behind them and, still speaking in a low voice, said to them: - your friend is already in the room, guys.
Roberto jumped and whirled around, but even before turning he realized that there was no need to be afraid because it was only the owner speaking. Giorgio turned to greet her cordially, but he realized that she wasn't the lady from breakfast.
- Ah, I see... - Roberto commented - in fact it's quite late and...
The lady interrupted him. -Your friend came back to his room around nine, he was there for a while and then he went out again. He then came back about an hour ago... in both cases he didn't say hello to anyone and went straight to the room.
- Yeah, I understand... - Roberto continued hesitantly.
- Sorry if I meddle in your business, guys, but I couldn't help it. If there is anything I can do for you... - continued the lady.
- On the contrary, we are grateful to you, madam, for your interest - Giorgio intervened with diplomacy - but I think everything will be solved tomorrow morning. We just... we had a little fight, but there shouldn't be any problems.
- Are you sure? When he returned, your friend looked like he had met a ghost. He was completely on another world. Didn't you say you were supposed to join your girls in Paris? But why didn't you leave the next day...
As the lady continued to ask questions to the two boys, Giorgio noted the excellent memory and insight of the owner of the hotel, and was about to articulate a sufficiently credible answer when Roberto intervened.
- How did you say... met a ghost? Shit, this wasn't meant to happen... We're fucked! - Roberto exclaimed. But then, noticing that he had raised his voice too much for the late hour, he went back to a lower tone and, apologizing, tried to take his leave of the lady.
- I think we'll go and talk to him right away, madam... thank you, indeed we thank you for your kindness. We'll try not to make much noise and...
The woman seemed to understand and didn't insist any longer. She bade them goodnight and walked away muttering something about feelings.
Roberto and Giorgio walked towards the stairs, arguing animatedly.
- He met someone from the old company... or worse, he met the girl back then. I don't know if you understand the gravity of this situation. He shouldn't have been left alone - said Roberto.
- But, Robi, we're still here! Whatever he did, he didn't alter reality as we know it, otherwise we would no longer be here... Or, if any changes did happen, they do not concern us...
Roberto was surprised by Giorgio's arguments. He looked like a time travel expert, his friend normally so far from all of this.
- What you say is right... indeed. Even if I don't feel sure of anything in this story. Now we'll see.
On reaching the threshold of the room, however, Giorgio stopped his friend. - Do you really want to wake him up, if by chance he's sleeping? Maybe he actually saw someone who upset him... and he just fell asleep. Won't it be better if we talk about it tomorrow?
Roberto was convinced, after a moment of opposition. It was better to go to sleep... after all, they too had come a long way and to many things that day.

 Chapter 10

The station was crowded enough, but not yet at the peak levels of the holiday departure days.
The three girls met almost simultaneously at around 8:10 pm. Emanuela, strangely, arrived last.
- Damn... I always try to leave the house a little early, when I have to go to the station, but just as I was about to call the elevator I passed a neighbor and... she'd never let me go. She saw me with my suitcase, then she started asking me where I was going... then she was quite surprised that Giorgio wasn't leaving with me...
Emanuela was definitely out of breath. The other two girls told her not to worry and to relax. There was still plenty of time for the train.
Even on Wednesday afternoon no girl had received any phone calls from the three boys. Federica tried not to think about it: when she came up with some bad thoughts about Roberto, she tried to put them aside. "A few more hours... and then it's all over... I hope."
If Emanuela was also quite worried and tried in some way to hide this state of mind, Laura was instead very perky. She truly acted as if she had discovered a new dimension in those moods of hers.
The train wasn't ready yet, and around track 16 only maintenance workers could be seen. In the time that was still available, the three girls decided to go and have a snack at the station buffet.

* * *

- Emanuela... I don't remember if you too have been working today or not... - Laura asked at a certain point, seeing that the girl wasn't participating much in the chat of the other two.
- No... no - replied Emanuela. - I've been on vacation since yesterday, like Federica...
Federica corrected her: - actually, I was home on Monday too...
Laura emphasized this detail. - Basically, you have been home since Christmas Eve... You and Robi just found each other... - Then she hinted a "why should I wish to work...", dropping the sentence.
Federica shot her a dirty look. - It's Sandro who always says such crap, right? Robi always tells me, too, that these jokes are on Sandro's agenda. Okay, hope you're happy then, you who never have time to see each other, but are satisfied working hard...
Federica's vaguely ironic response reminded Laura that she had assimilated many of Sandro's typical behaviors, and that at that moment she preferred to try to be just herself. Thus, she remained silent.
Emanuela then resumed the conversation. -...and, as I told you, yesterday I was resting for a while, then I finished reading a book which Fede had passed on to me...
- Do you like reading books too? - Laura intervened.
- Yeah, yes I do. Federica and I often meet just to exchange books.
- Yes... you must consider that we have practically the same speed, reading... - Federica continued.
Meanwhile, sandwiches ordered by the three girls had arrived. It was minutes past nine, and so the train should've been ready by now, on the tracks.
So, shortly after, they got up and went to the platforms. They had not taken the bunks, as they felt that, being three of them, the journey would be more fun in a normal compartment.
They placed backpacks and suitcases in the compartment: they hadn't had much trouble finding a place for them. Having arrived at the station well in advance was a good choice.
Despite being a simple second-class carriage, the environment was rather well looked after. The train was made up alternately of Italian carriages and French ones, however rather similar in appearance. Emanuela and Federica placed a bag within reach, which contained biscuits and other foods to be eaten during the trip.
Subject boys had been left in a corner for the whole evening. Then, around midnight, Laura fell asleep, probably paying for the fact that she had been sleeping quite a little the previous night; Federica and Emanuela went to the window in the corridor and, looking out, began to talk about their common concern.
- Are you worried? I mean... do you think something happened?
Federica had her nose resting onto the window. She turned to Emanuela to answer her.
- I don't know... Yesterday we had a long discussion, Laura and I...
- Yes... I knew when she called me, that something was wrong.
- We spent more than an hour talking about Sandro and the things he does and says... or the things he might have done and said... That girl is in danger of going crazy, if she goes on like this...
- True. I also struggle to understand how that couple works...
- Yes, but then she is very strange... Today, when she came to me, every trouble had gone away. She said that her anger was gone and that she no longer wanted to think about anything... she just wanted to get to Paris quickly to find out what Sandro was really doing. And yesterday she was not stopping for a moment inveighing against Sandro and against Robi as well. As for me, I can't tell if she's so strong or if she's so much into Sandro that she's freaked out.
- Giorgio says that it is she, who exaggerates in behaving like this and that she is basically a rather silly gal...
- Yes, that's what Roberto thinks too. Robi thinks that Sandro should find a different girl for himself... but he also says that he wants a very beautiful one and that therefore he will never leave her, even if they always fight. Basically, Sandro does care about her...
After mentioning Giorgio, Emanuela dropped the conversation on the other couple and went back to asking Federica if she was worried about the boys.
She was quite the opposite of Laura... She always seemed carried away by her little things and was a portrait of calmness. However, if you looked at her a little more carefully, you could grasp something in her state of mind, who at that moment was very uneasy about the fate of her boyfriend.
Federica replied with a half smile, trying for a moment to show herself up as a mother trying to reassure her little daughter who, frightened, timidly tries to be heartened without letting panic leak into her heart. Then, however, Federica let out what she felt, and she couldn't keep that smile.
- Yes. I'm afraid that something has happened... Nothing has ever happened, and Robi is someone who does behave using his head... But you can never tell... And it's so strange that they didn't call, none of the three... and that you can't even get in touch with the hotel.
- That's what I think too... I think I'm so scared... I just try not to think of anything bad. Of one thing I'm sure... that there is no joke or deception behind this story... you think so too, do you?
- Yes, of course... - Federica answered. She would have liked to show a thousand references, a thousand explanations as to why she felt sure of what where Roberto's feelings towards her... but she didn't.
She preferred not to think about all those moments spent together, reflecting on the fact that if she didn't feel the need to rethink all those phrases, she would feel stronger and more confident in the feelings that united them. But when, after half an hour, the two girls returned to the compartment, thoughts made their way into Federica's memory and kept her company for a good part of her half-sleep.

 Chapter 11

Roberto and Giorgio were quite tired as they got back to the hotel, so they fell asleep right away despite having a thousand worries on their minds, not least about what might have happened to their friend.
Sandro, for his part, had slept a very deep sleep, thus discharging all the tension he had accumulated in the previous afternoon and evening.
The morning after Roberto opened his eyes first, but instead of turning away to continue sleeping, he decided, contrary to his habits, to get up. He barely had time to get one foot off the bed and heard a noise coming from the top half of his bunk bed. He thus realized that Sandro was awake too, and at the same time he saw Giorgio staring at him from the bed in the other half of the room.
- Well... - Giorgio commented - at least in wakeup call we are united again.
- Yeah... - Roberto said thoughtfully.
It wasn't a peaceful awakening: as he regained consciousness, the picture of the many difficult things he would have to do that day showed up before his eyes, to ensure that his life and those of his friends returned to normal. Potentially, it could have been the last day available.

Stretching up, Sandro was pleased to see that his friends had returned and, as usual, he addressed them with a joke.
- But where... where the hell did you end up last night? Did you go to Turin?
Roberto replied positively with a nod.
Then Sandro went on. - I, on the other hand, went around Beaulard for a long time, then I went to eat a pizza... since you weren't coming back...
Sandro's tone was normal. From the first few bars, Roberto had feared that he wanted to blame them for having left him alone but, as the conversation moved on, he had instead noticed a vaguely conciliatory tone.
- Yeah, the lady at the hotel told us that you had been away the whole evening... - Roberto added, while Sandro passed him by, getting off the bunk bed. He then went and sat down in the middle of the little room, roughly equidistant from the two other friends.
- Yes... you know, I went to the usual pizzeria, but I didn't stay long... It's not very pleasant to have dinner alone, is it? Aaaaaand... then I took another tour of the village, as I told you, Roberto.
- I understand, Sandro... - Roberto said. He didn't really want to tell what he'd done with Giorgio, because he thought that Sandro wouldn't care that much. But then he saw his questioning look, and he realized that his friend "wanted" to know what they had done. He overlooked any consideration that Sandro might have made about his ideas of him and decided to show himself more indulgent.
- We went to Turin by train... We then went at Rossella's and left her a note... yes, it wasn't easy, but in the end we felt like we were doing the right thing... let's just say the only one we thought was making enough sense.
Roberto looked carefully at Sandro: he felt rather insecure in recounting those facts, and was ready to stop as soon as he saw a sign of dispute in his eyes.
- But... haven't you seen her? - his friend asked him.
- No... no, we didn't: we were near her house between... meh, half past eight and quarter past nine, but of course we didn't ring her. We only saw someone coming out of the door, and we took this chance to put our ticket in the post box.
- Yeah, sure, I asked a useless question. Of course you weren't supposed to meet her...
Not only was Sandro's tone very calm and not at all argumentative, but to Roberto he also seemed very condescending. Then he continued: - and Turin, how was it?
- Heh, just like way then, I'd say... The central area, the buses... The atmosphere was the same of those shopping trips that we used to do at the time...
This time it was Sandro to interrupt him.
- Me too, last night, I felt the same atmosphere around here... I didn't think it could be such a strong feeling and...
All his sentences seemed to revolve around a single concept that was struggling to be expressed. As far as Roberto knew Sandro, it must have been something that in some way was an admission of error on his friend's side: and, even though he didn't know yet what it was, Roberto understood that it had to do with memories... with their common memories.
- ...yeah, I didn't think it could touch me like that, seeing these places again. But above all that you could get to be surrounded by the atmosphere, by the feelings from the past to the point of being able to touch them... to feel them so real.
Sandro did not explicitly refer to his friend, but the fact that he used the same expressions as Roberto had the same meaning. Roberto's amazement then reached its apex, after these last sentences.
Giorgio caught his friend's thoughts and then decided to allow him to continue wallowing in those thoughts, jumping to the floor.
- So you were not bored, walking around alone? - he asked Sandro.
- No, definitely not. Let's say I thought 'bout a lot of things, some good and some bad, but overall it was a... nice experience.
- Well, I'm glad you...
Sandro spoke again, interrupting Giorgio.
- And then I was trying to figure out where my goddamn friends had gone!
Giorgio didn't continue his sentence, but turned to Roberto who, at Sandro's words, had stopped brooding in his own head and was once again interested in the ongoing discussion.
Roberto smiled at Giorgio, and explained that such a phrase was the kindest possible manifestation of friendship that could be expected from Sandro. The only comment that followed was a collective laugh from all three, which was prolonged further when Roberto, rising with a decisive attitude from his bed, banged his head against the bed above, and started screaming simulating a pain like he never felt before.

The three got ready to leave, and by ten they were in the hotel dining room, having breakfast.
- How's your sore throat? - Giorgio asked Sandro, seeing that he had again asked for a cup of hot tea.
- Well, it's stable... It hasn't increased, but it hasn't even gone away: probably, hadn't I been in the cold last night, I'd be better now...
While Sandro sipped his tea, the other two were stocking up on croissants.
- Last night we didn't have dinner again, Robi... We are leading a very unregulated life, from a nutritional point of view... - said Giorgio.
- Yeah, that's correct - Roberto answered with his mouth full. - I hope that as soon as everything goes back to normal, our habits will change too...
And for the umpteenth time the thought of being living an abnormal adventure caught Roberto and a moment later the other two, dampening the euphoria from early morning.
There was a moment of silence, then Roberto looked at his watch, with a quick rush of impatience. "It's still early", he thought to himself. Looking up, he thought he was going to share his concern with the other two, but then he saw that they had both plunged back into their breakfast. Then he took another sip and turned left towards Sandro, saying: - so, now let's go see that movie?
Sandro turned slowly, trying to understand what he meant. Giorgio did the same.
- The movie that should go “on air” in about an hour, in front of Francesca's house... of which we know the protagonists well.
Sandro then showed that he understood the joke, and completed Roberto's presentation by saying - ...a film just for watching, not an interactive one, of course...
- Of course - he went on.
Giorgio intervened in shy mood. - Wouldn't it be better to leave it alone... I don't know, I mean, to avoid further strange ideas...
- Hey, no! I can understand everything else and I am well aware of all the implications we have talked about and reiterated. But you can't stop me from setting myself in a corner and enjoying this scene!
Giorgio was speechless for a moment at his friend's answer, but then he adapted. - It's a promise... clear? I'm telling you both...
Roberto and Sandro looked at each other, struck by the fact that for the first time their friend was giving them an order. Both muttered this fact, but none resisted.

* * *

Around eleven thirty, the old car carrying Roberto, Sandro and the other friend of that New Year's holiday, Carlo, appeared in front of Francesca's house. It was on time as if it were following a written script.
The three boys from the future were hiding in the woods, near the clearing where the Golf had been parked for two days: from there they could easily see the road that led to the house of Sandro's ex-girlfriend. After finishing their breakfast, the three had realized that it was quite late and, in order not to risk meeting their three alter-egos, they had decided to take a different path. On the other hand, in order not to risk losing the scene anyway, they had run almost all the way.
While trying to catch his breath, Giorgio turned to Roberto and tried to start talking. However, he couldn't go beyond the first words, at which Roberto suggested that he slow down.
- ...I meant that today is the 30th, and therefore the girls will have arrived, by now, at the hotel, in Paris. And therefore they won't have found us: have you not thought about this?
Roberto made a surprised face, and in the meantime he saw Sandro approaching.
- You mean I'm worried about what the girls are thinking? For that matter, the mere fact that they haven't heard from us for three days should have caused them considerable concern. However...
Before he could continue his speech, Roberto was interrupted by Sandro.
- But, sorry, we... it's not that we didn't call them, we never had a chance to call because we never lived the future of... December 27, 1993... Nobody can be worried about ours absence because that time hasn't existed yet...
At a certain point, however, Sandro stopped his momentum - ...for us... but maybe for them, it did exist?
For the umpteenth time Sandro had taken next words out of his mouth. - That's exactly what I was going to say, Sandro - Roberto went on. - But then please answer me, do you think the future of the day we left does exist, somewhere, or not? In other words, have the lives of everyone we know progressed regularly, at the same speed as ours, or are there other explanations?
The other two looked at him and both faces had the same look. - You're the one who should tell us... - Giorgio replied him.
- Once more... I already told you I don't know anything more than you do...
Interrupting Roberto's vaguely annoyed sentence it was Francesca and her sister showing up at the door of their house. While the three were talking, in fact, the old car had parked in front of Francesca's apartment building, and the people inside had gotten out. Caught as they were by their rush, Roberto, Sandro and Giorgio hadn't noticed it: but now, attracted by the loudest voices coming from the girls, they had turned to look.
- Oh, yes... - was the almost contemporary comment of Roberto and Sandro. Giorgio, on the other hand, silenced them, trying to listen to the words.
A nine years difference... Those people, "that" Roberto and "that" Sandro were unequivocally the same people leaning on the Golf, yet they were different. Younger... and the age difference seemed greater internally than in exterior appearance: apart from Carlo, whom the two friends hadn't seen as often recently, and who had lost some hair, nor the boys nor had the girls changed much since they were teen-agers.
A few jokes, picked up despite the distance, brought to Roberto's and Sandro's minds mottos and thoughts typical of that age, and it was like a fresh wind... But, once the first sensation passed, they both noticed that that light-heartedness had evolved, over time, into safety... and they agreed that it wasn't an age to regret at all... simply, not to be forgotten.
After a while the five characters entered the house, carrying some bags with them. At that point Roberto tried to resume the previously interrupted thread.
- I was saying... all theories are equally valid: the question you asked me earlier was the most obvious, that is, three days and three nights have passed for us, so three days must have passed for them too. This reasoning is perfectly correct: if I go to America and stay there for three days without hearing from anyone in my town, when I'll come back I'm sure that three days have also passed for my acquaintances. But our situation is different. We have disappeared from that reality and therefore from our point of view nothing exists, of everything we used to know. But from the point of view of our families, it does. I would therefore say that either we accept the idea that nothing of our future, as we know it, has yet existed, or we accept the idea that what we know of our existence up to 1993 exists, and therefore it is legitimate to assume that it exists... in the sense that it has already been written somewhere, even the future of the point from which we started to come here.
- What a mess... And what's the right theory for you... Ah, wait, don't tell me, you cannot be sure, obviously - said Giorgio, starting to laugh again. - I just wanted to know what you think...
Sandro was full of doubts as well.
- It's a beautiful tale: if that time exists independently of us, then everything is already written and marked... It's a very fatalistic position... no, as they say, deterministic. If, on the other hand, now that we are here, future doesn't exist yet, then it makes no sense to talk about it, nor to worry... and moreover, we don't even have to worry about how long it will take us, because we have all the time we want...
- Yet the future exists, in the sense that we have, without uncertainty, the proof that the years from 1985 to 1993 existed and certain facts happened during those times... and therefore it would be reasonable to think that the following years also exist, from our current point of view.
- If I understand correctly - Giorgio intervened - explaining this all with a kind of collective hallucination would be much simpler, right?
Roberto nodded. But Sandro contradicted him: - and yet, earlier, you too saw the three boys who came from Turin, and the girls. When we got closer I also heard them say the phrases I more or less remembered: and all of that was real.
- Yes, of course it was real. However, if we were simply living a dream, or a nightmare as you prefer, we would probably see things exactly as we remember them, as they are generated by our own mind, and therefore this wouldn't be a valid argument for discerning our real situation.
Roberto commented this way on the experience in the morning. At this point Sandro started another topic.
- In your opinion, the fact that we don't remember having met ourselves older that time, can it mean with certainty that this didn't happen? Or do you think that the slightest gesture made towards those old... ourselves would have an immediate impact on us? Yes, the old theory about paradoxes... But I was even referring to something trivial... Like, you know, I'm going to put an advertising brochure on the windshield of Carlo's car, and since I'm sure that such a piece of paper was not there, that time, I'd really love to to check if after putting it on my memories will change as well... Yeah, but after doing it who knows if I'll still remember thinking about doing this test!
Roberto listened carefully to Sandro's speech, which reminded him of many other chats made about the flow of time. Movies, stories, fantasies... it all came back to him and he realized once again that nothing he was saying to himself had ever been confirmed or denied. "It would really be an unique opportunity to try... to know...". Had he been a few years older, he thought, he would surely have accepted this challenge: at this moment in his life, his future, the years he wanted to spend with Federica mattered too much and he didn't want to risk them. But had he been older, perhaps already a senior, he'd surely have performed those experiments.
However, he soon realized that depending on what one might think of time, any paradoxical experiments would affect not only him, but other people as well. And even if he had been older, perhaps in the last years of his life, altering the course of time would, according to logic, change not only his history, but also that of others, the entire lives of his loved ones... of those that he already knew, but also of future ones.
At this point he thought that this all simply wasn't possible. "We're not really in the past" he struggled to believe. “Yet... if we had already made some gesture that changed history as we know it... who could remember that? Everything I know, that I know, the people I remember, maybe up to two days ago was different. Maybe it wasn't even because of us: someone else could have traveled in time, with unknown methods, and altered our lives... We have no idea what form, or how it presents itself, a time paradox."
The three boys were silent for quite a while. Then Roberto broke the ice curtain.
- In practice, all explanations are legitimate. In some ways, from our point of view, the present we left behind no longer exists. So there is no point in puzzling further. All we can do is hope that everything turns out well... as illogical as that can be.
- In other words, pray... - said Giorgio. The three fell silent again.