Полная версия
The Ball
«Thank God, Brando, you have stopped hanging around with the aliens, this is a positive thing. Did you start hanging around regularly with somebody else, I mean, with the opposite sex?»
«No, I didn’t. I stopped with the aliens, just give me some time to change my habits, meet new people to hang around with. Maybe zombies, there are so many around.»
«Very funny. Let’s take a note: nothing new, the candidate does not point out any recent changes in his lifestyle. I am sure that if you behave like this, the sentence to home confinement will be revoked, sooner or later.»
«Home confinement that I was granted being trapped inside myself?» I wonder, puzzled.
«Right that one.»
«I was asking because I was afraid I had got lost.»
«So, are you dead on not trying to repent?»
«I don’t think I need to repent for anything. That’s the way I am: I do not hang around with aliens, zombies nor human beings; I am gloomy and a bit down but I have always been like that. Maybe lately the whole situation has gone a bit worse, maybe I find it difficult now to put up with some situations that I used to somehow manage before.»
«Attention, please. We have here some sort of explanatory sentence which expresses a whole thought» the notary says sarcastically. «Are you talking about work in general or something more complicated?»
«It is the whole situation, what is around us: people, in particular. It is the attitude that people have towards each other. Not just in the working environment: it is something that makes me sick, it makes me feel bad.»
«People. People make you sick: disturbing. What do you mean, Brando?»
«There is some sort of pathological apathy everywhere. They all just want things and expect them without doing anything useful for themselves or for the others.»
«That has been my feeling too for quite some time.»
«Do you know the history of do ut des?» I ask.
«Sure, do ut des and do ut facias, are the foundation of private law. You are talking about a wider picture, don’t you?»
«Yes, a wider and more trivial scenario. Men have always acted this way: you give something to get something else back. I think this is fair, quite normal. The problem is that now it is only a des: give me this because I am entitled to it, I want this because I am more worthy than you. The synallagma has changed: everybody expects something but nobody does anything.»
«Interesting analysis. Is that what makes you gloomy?»
«I don’t know. This is for sure something that I can’t stand. And there is so much more to it.»
«Talking about do ut des, did those guys from Newco Dating Ltd avail of the legal counselling service, didn’t they?»
«They did, they dropped in on a Wednesday, two weeks ago. They are two guys from Eastern Europe who want to start a dating business on the internet. Actually, I am not too sure if they are real rendezvous, which are organized on the web or virtual dating, like online chats or something like that. Anyway, they were telling me that their web site is ready for the users and they are trying to create a mobile app too.»
«Right, that was exactly the idea behind setting up legal counselling service» Alessandro says. «Giving everybody the chance, especially needy people, to have free legal service for every need.»
«Wonderful idea which compels me to get in contact with many needy people for three hours a week...»
«Correct. This would be only do, without ut des: something done for a noble principle. You are really great at dealing with needy people, Brando». The notary stops and looks at me smiling. «So today we will help needy people to run the usual virtual brothel: it is nothing new, it must be the third one already. This year only.»
«I think that word of mouth is what gets them going in this environment, but massage parlours have almost disappeared» I say.
«True, I haven’t seen them in a while: it is probably because the Town Council close them all down» the notary replies. «Anyway, wasn’t the deed scheduled for 12:30 pm? It is 12:45 pm already and they haven’t shown up yet.»
«They may run a little late, I fear.»
«We should look into this legal counselling service...»
«Maybe so. Often helping people in need is not taken in the right way by people, or several people consider themselves in need but they are just in need to have something for free» I say.
«Come on, let’s get back to the do ut des...»
«Mala tempora currunt, Brando.»
«Sed peiora parantur» I reply.
1.2 LIFE - THREE
«Good morning, sirs. Now, we are here to register Newco Dating Ltd» the notary starts.
«Here we are» they reply almost at the same time.
«Did you check if there are other websites registered with similar names at the Board of Trade, Brando?»
«The gentlemen here actually wanted to name their company Newco Ltd. I took the liberty to point out that this name was not so original and that it would be necessary and useful to attach another word to it. So then Newco Dating came out, it sounds a bit more original.»
«Excellent, and Newco Dates it is then» the notary adds, and then he says: «Each of you will own a share amounting to 50% of the share capital. Are you both residing in Brescia, right?»
One of the two men says: «Yes, we have been living here for twenty years now».
«And the company will be based in the municipality of Bre...» the notary says this and he stops suddenly. «In the municipality of Codogno» he continues saying, with a slightly surprised tone, looking at me. «Which is in the province of Cremo...»
I look at him and I shake my head.
«Which, surely, is in the province of Piace...» he goes on saying, lowering his voice, while I shake my head again.
«Lodi» one of the two partners says. The notary looks at him.
«Of course: Lodi. It is an important town, isn’t it? It is a busy city, right?» he asks while staring at the guy in front of him.
«That’s right, it is a busy town» says one of the partners. «We decided to have it as our headquarters because our computer technician and the server are going to be based in Codogno.»
«I see» the notary says. «Are you aware that if you ever decide to shift the headquarters outside the Municipality, you are going to need another notarial deed, aren’t you? Why not choosing Brescia as the headquarters, considering that both of you are residing in here?»
«Yes, yes, your colleague told us» says the plump partner with Magnum P.I. style moustache «It’s better this way for us for... how can I put it... confidential reasons.»
«I see, I see» the notary cuts him short. «And Codogno it is» he says looking at the desk. He browses through the Statute then and he briefly points out some aspects to the partners, who do not seem to pay too much attention.
«25% of the share capital amounting to €10,000 has to be paid over by the partners to the administrative body. So, we are talking about € 1,250 each» the notary says.
«Yes» Magnum P.I states, «here, all in €50 banknotes.»
«Great» Alessandro says. «You are both administrators, so you need to pay € 2,500 into each other’s hands. As for levies, taxes and registration fees, please finalize it at the front office desk.»
«Go to the entrance door where you can see something artificially fair» I say.
«Pardon?» the plump version of Tom Sellek says, looking confused.
«I meant that to make the payment you can go over to the girl sitting at the desk at the entrance.»
«Right, okay, thank you. Goodbye» he answers a bit puzzled.
The two of them walk off the room and down along the corridor.
The notary turns to me, he looks at me and says: «Did you know Codogno, did you?»
«No, never heard of it, I’ve got a better idea looking at Google Maps. Excuse me for not telling you in advance: I forgot. However, I thought I was ignorant not to know it, considering how casually the two of them were telling me about it.»
«Don’t worry, Brando. I will check later on where this joyous town is located». «I’m off: my wife is waiting for me for lunch at the Bistrot. Yourself? Will you have your usual sad-looking bowl of tofu with cereals?» he says sarcastically.
«Yes, something like that. See you later.»
⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎
I am supposed to be gloomy and sombre more than usual, in his opinion, I ponder as I sit back at my desk. I don’t think so. I may be pensive, probably it is the fault of the blue glow. Sure: now I am blaming somebody I don’t even know.
Sbandofin Facebook: search. No, they are not on Facebook. Sbandofin Linkedin: search. Nothing.
Sbandofin, search for pictures: just our building taken from below, which is the only picture on their website. Nothing much: there doesn’t seem to be much on the internet apart from their website.
My smartphone vibrates and lights up: Mutter. I scroll down with my finger on the display and I answer.
«Hi Bra, how are you?»
«Hi mum, wonderfully. Yourselves there, is everything okay? What are you doing today?»
«All is well here. Nothing major: I am making the pizza dough for tonight’s celebrations, your father has gone to the canal. He went out at 7:30 this morning and I haven’t seen him since.»
«You mean, nothing major for your standards but, just out of curiosity, what celebrations are on tonight?»
«Here in Alberbhüttel it’s the Patron Saint’s Day. Last year we went there and found out that everyone cooks something and brings it to the square to share with the fellow villagers. We didn’t know and went down bare-handed. Between one tankard and another, at the end of the evening, they got us to promise to make pizza for everybody for the following year.»
«That explains it all» I add. «I didn’t know anything about this lovely German celebration; it reminds me of San Faustino’s Day, with the difference that here we don’t share homemade food and knock it down less beer»
«Yes, Brando, it is similar to San Faustino’s celebration. Here on the Kiel canal each town has its own annual festival and everyone puts in a lot of energy preparing their own festival. They are spread out through the months and the inhabitants of the neighbouring towns, come to other people’s celebrations, so the town square is overflooded with people coming from three or four towns. Beer flows in large quantities for sure.»
«Some sort of an alcoholic exchange» I interrupt.
«Just think that our neighbours, those who live in the other town at ten km from here, Beringfeld, have designed some sort of a beer distribution system to go with the pizza. Something done properly: they dug five metres deep and they run the pipes under the cobblestone. Every three metres they placed some kind of a yellow hydrant, which is a real tap as an actual fact.»
«These Teutonic traditions don’t seem bad at all: I didn’t know that. Anyway, after one year, do these people still remember this, which was furthermore agreed upon after gulping down a few litres of beer?»
«I told you: they care about that a lot. I have been asked more or less the same question for the last year or so by everybody I was bumping into. “Are you making pizza with pepperoni and frankfurters, right?“»
«I see. So, the hype is virtually sky-high. Anyway, how many pizzas do you have to make? Isn’t dad helping you?»
«Of course, he is!» she said. «Well, we are going to make some. We talked about that last night, to recap all the ingredients: we decided to make thirty-six.»
«It sounds like a fair amount, bearing in mind that everybody else will bring something, I would say that thirty-six pizzas are enough» I reply. «It is hard work, though.»
«I meant thirty-six metres, Brando.»
«Woh» I reply a bit confused. «Is pizza measured by the metre in northern Germany?»
«Yes, it seems to be. Even if you go to a pizzeria, the waiters consider it as a unit of measurement: if you ask for two capricciosa pizzas, they will bring you two metres of it, you don’t need to say anything else. So last night dad organized some bonfires in the garden. He marked six areas measuring 1m high and 7m length and put some big rocks he got at the canal all along their perimeters. At each corner, he drove a steel pole with a hole on top into the ground; then he got Birger to make some trays which are 6m long and 60cm wide. The trays have two steel bars at the far end which are slotted in the poles.»
«Yes, mum, I am starting to get a better picture of the situation and I do realize that nothing much is happening there, today too. Sorry but how long are the poles? What are you going to put then on the six areas?» I ask staring at the wall beyond the screen. Then all of a sudden I felt enlightened. «Yes, of course! Six areas measuring six metres each equal to thirty-six metres of pizza: got it!»
«Yes Brando, it is like military operations: everything is organized down to a tee. The poles are fifty centimetre high and the ovens will be overflowing with charcoal.»
«Charcoal pizza. I see...» I can’t conceal my bewilderment. «You are going to need loads.»
«Not too much, actually: we went to get it yesterday. We got one hundred ten-kilo bags.»
«I guess all the ingredients have already been bought...»
«Yesterday we bought flour, yeast and buffalo mozzarella cheese. Dad and Birger are going to buy Pepperoni, frankfurters and chili peppers on their way back.»
«Right. Who is this guy, Birger?»
«He is our new neighbour, didn’t I tell you about him? He bought the farmhouse just before ours: the one that had been up for sale for quite some time, at the entrance to the dirt road which leads to grandad’s farmhouse.»
«I don’t recall you telling me» I answer deep in my thoughts. «Anyway, this Birger guy too has decided to withdraw from the world and isolate himself in that piece of German country land?»
«We are not that isolated, Bra. Birger is working as a blacksmith and he does some lovely creations, like the trays for pizzas. I even brought him the iron maiden that I found in the lodge: he said he will get something beautiful out of it. Your father and I did not isolate ourselves from the world: we just need to get grandad’s house all set so that we can sell it.»
«Sure, I know very well that you are not completely isolated, but the only thing is that grandad is dead two and a half years now. I am starting to think that you want to live there.»
«That’s right. Bra, the house is hard to manage» my mum says softly.
«Sorry… did you say the iron maiden?» I reply puzzled, thinking back about my mum’s words.
«That’s right, grandad Bastian had loads of weird things down in the shed, did I not tell you?»
«Yes, you did mention something about that but I did not realize that he had torture devices.
«Who knows what went on in here... Uh, your daddy and Birger are back: they have just driven into the driveway. The pickup truck is loaded with ingredients: I must go and help them» she said a bit agitated.
«Right, I’ll leave you to do your nothing much» I reply quickly. «Sorry for one sec mum, one last question.»
«Tell me quickly Bra, I have to go!»
«How do you take the thirty-six metres of pizza to the town?»
«About fifty people come by tonight at 7.00 and we all walk to the town with the trays on our heads and torches in our hands in a real torchlight procession.»
«Sure, it will get cold! It must be four kilometres to the square and the trays must be hot.»
«Come on, Bra I have to go, all these silly questions: we bought a hundred pairs of gloves to hold the pizzas. Also, each table in the square has a power outlet for the burner: this way anyone can heat up the dishes they brought from home.»
«I am really silly, you are right. Enjoy the evening and say hi to dad for me.»
«Yes, sure, I’ll tell him that you were asking for him. I’m off. Bye» my mum mumbled. «Brando, I nearly forgot: I spoke to Marlon and he told me to tell you to contact him because he can never get you.»
«Yes, sure, I’ll do that. See you, mum.»
«See you, Bra, love you.»
Tofu, tofu, tofu; Tofu and seitan; and chicken; and rice: a spoonful and I start eating, while I am thinking about fifty people walking in the middle of the countryside with carrying pizzas on their heads, holding a torch in their hands; actually, thirty-six metres of pizzas on their heads and those who are not holding a torch, are holding a one-litre tankard of beer in their hands. I am thinking about how energetic my two parents are and I state that my level of energy, considering that I am a good bit younger than them, has nothing to do with their levels. Lately my level of energy seems nearly asleep, even though it has reached a level of respectable normality not too long ago.
Taking part in this kind of German festival, could be a healthy and liberating experience which would make my parents happy that I could take up their invitation to go there at least for a weekend and stay in the extension in their property in Germany. Huge property that my mum inherited from my grandad Bastian virtually three years ago. Last summer I was there for a few days but after that, I could not accept their regular invitation because I always had something urgent to take care of.
I feel a little confused thinking about the things that I need to take care of and I am mulling over the mental and physical benefits that I could get from being off work for a week. I would also have the chance to carry out a further investigation about all the weird things that my parents keep on telling me, like metre-long pizzas and torture devices. Surely Bastian must have been weird: he gave life to my mother, with the joint participation of my grandma, and then he went back to Germany, God knows why, probably to torture people in the basement.
I start to imagine 1.300 kilometres of German motorway, free from annoying speed limits for long stretches of the road. With a few stops, I would get there approximately slightly over twelve hours. One day’s journey and five or six days off staying in the extension, located on that huge far-away piece of German land; travelling by car with a blue glow sitting beside me, able to shake me off from that deadness that Alessandro feels it is coming from me. Unattainable idea, I state right away, wiping out the motorway and the German countryside and bring my organs of vision back on the screen in front of me: it is quite possible that the blue glow is already going out steadily with somebody else from the opposite sex and may also have a few children.
I push away the bowl with the airtight lid with my lunch in it, moving it towards the screen, I stand up and I go to the windows, holding my smartphone in my hands and looking at the landscape, which is now too bright.
I stare at the hills in the distance and I think about my brother, who is missing, according to the latest news, in some weird African State, with his association of volunteers. Considering that he is convinced that 4G is not among the most spread-out illness in the places he goes to and despite I unsuccessfully tried on many occasions to get him over the phone or on VoIP, I always notice his funny habit to blame me for his faults, whether unintentional or malicious. I hit the little green button and I write: “How are you doing? Are you in a civilized place? Have you been infected by 4G yet? I would be grateful if you could not spread fake information about my availability to our parent! Bye“
1.2 LIFE - FOUR
«Excuse me Brando, are you still on your lunch break?» I hear Domenica say behind me.
«I’d say that I am enjoying the last minutes of my break. Have you trouble with the real estate deeds?»
«Well, not exactly trouble. Yesterday I mentioned to you about the deed of sale that is on this afternoon, you know those rental office units that keep going around.»
«Sure, the usual.»
«Correct, that one. I thought that the land registry extracts and maps were still valid from the last deed. I realized that fifteen months have gone by so it would be better to do them all over again.»
«Fifteen months under the ownership of the same individual? I reckon it is some sort of record. Shall we celebrate?» I ask playfully.
«Yes, I think it is possession primacy» Domenica replies while placing a coffee pod in the coffee machine, after putting a cup under the nozzle.
«So do you need land registry extracts of the whole property?»
«That’s right, we ought to check that the situation is the same as it was in the last deed. I am quite sure that nothing has changed, however it is better to check.»
«Alright, I’ll get an extract of the whole thing then. I strongly fear something: what is the name of the new company that owns it?» I ask.
Domenica grabs the coffee cup, she looks at me sorrowfully while sipping her coffee and she confirms my doubts: «The rental office units goes back to Ciapper Ltd».
«Right, I would have never said that! These businessmen are so enlightened that you can predict their moves months in advance» I say harshly. «Anyway, just give me five minutes and I’ll start my surveying: everything will be ready by 3 o’clock.»
«Thank you, Brando, the deed is on at 4:00, so it is great.»
I go off with my cup and get back to my desk. I just listen to the news for a couple of minutes, before getting the extracts done: spread exceeds share 200; the stock exchange is down by 2.2%. The usual, I say, opening another website on Chrome.
Alberbhüttel patronal festival, search. Images of a square with many tables and several people come up. The last photo shows a man with a long grey moustache and red cheeks, busy lifting a large tankard of beer, almost empty.
She surely has a name, I am talking to myself while opening another page. I look for Sbandofin on Linkedin. Melissa. No. No. It’s not her. What kind of name is Melissa? Nice though. Elisabetta. Not even that one. The blue glow does not have such dreadful name. I decide to put a stop to my silly search and go back to work.
I open the Ciapper ltd folder, I click on Banano commercial rental estate subfolder and I read the titles of five deeds: the first document goes back to 2012 and the last one goes back to February 7th, 2017. Right, I say: the current one. I open the folder for the first document and I scroll down the documents related to the land registration extracts and the cadastral maps.
It is called Banano because of its shape, at least that’s what the Ciapper brothers claim. On the property website, in block letters, a call-to-action: luxurious offices in the heart of the city: book your viewing. Down on the right- hand corner, I notice a writing in small letters which I don’t recall having seen before: for rent and for sale. Considering that renting had always been considered by the brothers as the only way to make some money out of the property, I take it that this change of strategy is due to the difficulty in selling the properties.
The building is quite nice: it is modern and it is made up with both metal and glass materials, it is not really located in the city centre as the website implies but it is at the entrance to the bypass road, in a place that an experienced estate agent would describe it as close to all the amenities. Twenty sparkling storeys shine on the display in front of my eyes. I stare at the picture that shows the front of the building and I wonder, as I do every time I look at a building, whether in person or virtually, about the opportunities given by the chosen name. I stare at the rendering snapshot, I open another Chrome page, I search for the picture of a banana tree and compare it to the picture of the building: I would have gone for a name like Sitting Beam or for something more appropriate like The big L.
Ciapper ltd built this property between 2008 and 2011; at the beginning of 2012, it was ready to be placed on the market. Later on, with the first deed, it was immediately sold as a whole to a different legal entity, namely the property management company owned by the holding company of the group of which Ciapper ltd, a simple construction company, was also part. The idea, as I understood at the time, was to have the property managed by Ciapper Real Estate, which would have leased the offices to third parties. Only the top floor was intended to house the offices of the parent company and other related companies, including Ciapper Real Estate ltd and also Ciapper ltd.
