Antony Shugaar

from Wanna Be Like Everyone by Francesco Piccolo

[Translated from the Italian]

I was born one day in the early summer of 1973, at the age of nine.

Until that moment, my life, and all the things that happened out in the world, were two separate entities that simply had no way of intersecting. I stayed safe at home in my family’s apartment, in my courtyard, in my city; with my parents, my brothers and sisters, the kids from school, relatives, and friends­—and the events that I saw on television instead occurred on some distant planet. Every so often the grownups did talk about those events, about the world and about Italy in particular; that meant we took some interest in what happened outside our own life. Still, none of us had anything to do with it. Me, least of all.

School had just let out for summer. Massimo, who sat next to me in class, invited me over to his house to play in the afternoons. He was very rich, he had a gigantic villa in Briano. He had just met a kid from the town of Briano, who was short and had lots of freckles and not much hair; this kid couldn’t sit still, spoke only in dialect, and seemed to know all about everything in great detail, as if he were a grownup in the body of a little kid. Massimo and I kept our mouths shut, listened to him, and then did whatever he was doing. He told us he’d take us to a secret place, if we had the courage to come along. We immediately said yes, though we were actually scared. We met up the next day and, even though it was already late, the sun just wouldn’t set, and the freckle-faced kid told us to follow him. We went through the woods; he knew exactly where to go and how to get there. He’d done this lots of times before, he said. And he told us that we were not to say a word to anyone else about it. We swore we wouldn’t, and asked no questions.

Our path ended at a wall. Fairly high, but not too high. Just a little further, he said a couple of times, and led the way. We walked along, our shoulders brushing against the wall. Then we came to a place where he said: Here. He wedged his foot into a little nook that he knew about, hoisted himself up, grabbed the edge of the wall, and pulled himself up to the top. Just do like me, he said. Then he jumped down the other side, vanishing from sight. Massimo did exactly the same thing.

Now it was my turn. Over on the other side, Massimo was calling to me: Come on, jump up. Over on this side, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able. I grabbed the wall, lifted my foot, looking for a foothold that would support me, and then hauled myself up expending much greater effort than I’d seen either of them require; then, pressing my whole torso against the edge, I hauled myself up to the top of the wall. And then I jumped down. There was no longer anyone there waiting for me. I was still surrounded by trees, but now I was on the far side of the wall, where the light streamed down strong and bright: but the trees, I realized, were few and far between. Just beyond the trees, I saw the two of them, standing still and looking around.

So I, too, came forth into the light.