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“Italy, we are only ten minutes away from '99! Do you have your family close? Your friends? Your partners?” Announced the charismatic voice of the host on the radio that his neighbors were listening to on the other side of the wall.
Risotto got out of the shower and, after opening the window, looked out onto the street, which was more crowded that night than any other during the year. He saw lovers holding hands, families on balconies talking loudly, drunkards wearing plastic hats and glasses. Risotto always heard that the end of the year festivities were a nostalgic time for those who were alone and far from their loved ones; but he thought he didn't miss any of that in particular. Neither the dinners, nor the gatherings. What's more, he was accustomed to spending those dates by himself. His men, who by force of habit and working together had become the closest thing to a family, had tried in vain to invite him over to one or more celebrations, but he rejected them with a curt but cordial "No, thanks." They didn't insist. Who would want to disagree with a man that big?
He ran a hand over his cheeks to wipe away a drop that fell from his damp hair. He had the stubble of three days; he had forgotten to shave but he would do it in the morning. It would make Doppio laugh when he showered him with kisses and scratched his neck with his chin. A smile spread across his face without him realizing it, but it quickly faded. The memory of the boy burned in his chest like an open wound.
He could count the number of times they had seen each other that year on one hand. And anyway, he had decided it would be better not to keep track of the days-weeks-months he didn't hear from Doppio. He tried not to think too much about him. He preferred to go on with his life as if he didn't know him, at least until the boy came back to remind him that he was fooling himself; for as soon Doppio went away, he would leave behind him a world withered and desolate. That wasn’t life.
Risotto wondered if Doppio was somewhere looking at the sky with his champagne-colored eyes, or if tonight it wasn't Doppio who was the one looking.
Risotto returned to the center of his room to turn on the television and then the stove to heat the cotechino that his landlady had provided from her own family dinner. The little old woman had lost her initial fear and dared to knock on his door more often. It must have been Doppio's doing, Risotto had thought as he received the plate with a slight bow. Whenever the boy appeared at her apartment, he would stop for a moment on the porch to greet her. It was just like Doppio to do such a thing; making it easy to take a liking to him.
Sitting in front of the only source of light coming from the T.V, Risotto finished dressing while the black and white film's dialogues competed uselessly with the bustle of the street. The film was one of those romantic ones that Doppio liked to watch… Shit, he was thinking of him again. Risotto felt another drop trickle down his cheek; a warm drop that didn’t drip from the ends of his hair. Perhaps he had gotten used to many absences, but even if he didn't want to admit it, he would never get used to being without Doppio. He wiped his face and swallowed away the knot in his throat that threatened to break his serious demeanor.
When Risotto began to distract himself with other thoughts he glanced out of the corner of his eye to the screen of his cell phone as it lit up with a call. A void opened in his stomach. It was an unknown number. And Risotto couldn't even hide his impatience to answer.
"Are you seeing the moon too? It looks like a silver coin,”
Doppio's voice had sounded so sweet, sweeter than he remembered, and Risotto had to force himself not to bring the phone to his lips. Risotto widened a smile as tears welled up in her eyes. He completely forgot his troubles, his loneliness, his abandonment.
"No, it's cloudy here," Risotto replied, dragging a chair over to the window to sit down and raise his eyes to the sky as well.
"Aww, what a pity. Well, it's beautiful and very close to Earth tonight. I read in the newspaper that this moon is called a waxing gibbous and it gives people the desire for change. Very fitting for the end of the year, isn't it?”
Risotto chuckled softly.
"I didn't know you believed in such things."
"Not really. But every once in a while it's fun to read about these topics. This is the most superstitious time of the year after all. Have they ever done any of those weird New Year customs in your hometown?”
“One of my aunts would give us bags of raw lentils, supposedly to attract money; but every year we were still just as poor. At least we could make something to eat with them.”
Doppio laughed on the other end of the line.
“Father Naso said they were pagan rites, but I found out one day that he would wear red socks on New Year's Eve. I guess he did it in case they did bring him good luck.”
"Well, you never know..." Risotto commented and Doppio just nodded from his side of the call. “Hey, guess who brought me dinner.”
"No way! Was it Nonna Giulia?! Oh, she’s a sweetheart! I'll have to get her some chocolates the next time I see her.”
Doppio didn’t say when that would be. But he did start telling Risotto what he had for dinner and about the delicious pasticcini he found in a bakery… Doppio loved to talk; and Risotto loved to hear him fill the silence with laughter and anecdotes, complaints about his work, or just stories from his distant childhood. However, it was not the same through a headset. It made him sad that he couldn't play with Doppio's hair while he listened to him; or the fact he couldn’t interrupt him with the sudden impulse to pinch his nose or kiss his lips.
When Doppio stopped for a moment, Risotto dared to ask a question that had been at the tip of his tongue ever since he had answered the call.
"Doppio...?"
"Hm?"
"Where are you?”
"You know I can't tell you, Ris," the boy whispered. “But I can see the ocean from here too…”
Risotto nodded, resigned. It was always the same answer, but it didn’t stop him from trying. Perhaps one day Doppio would tell him, and Risotto would drop everything to go find him. He wasn't afraid of the invisible presence that Doppio insisted he was protecting him from. Risotto wanted to insist, but he already imagined how that conversation would go: "And when will I see you again?" “It's not that simple…” “Of course it is! As simple as letting me help you, Doppio.” He would surely hear the boy sniffle; and Risotto would rage against that enemy he couldn't see or defeat without losing Doppio in the process. But that night he didn't want that. It’s been so long without hearing Doppio’s laugh, that he preferred to accept the distance.
"Two minutes until the New Year!" The neighbors' radio blared.
"Did you hear that?" Risotto asked.
"Almost here!" replied Doppio in excitement, "Would you stay with me to see the fireworks?"
"Of course”
“Hey, Ris…Do you have any New Year's resolutions?"
That took Risotto by surprise, like many things Doppio would say to him with that spontaneity that made him unpredictable.
"I haven’t thought about it. Maybe my resolution is not dying, I guess," Risotto answered after nothing else came to mind.
“That's a good one! I hope with all my heart that you fulfill it" Doppio laughed.
"And you?”
"Well…" Doppio paused and continued with a low voice, "I thought maybe we could try that. The doctor...Not sure if it would work though…”
A single firecracker ahead of time whistled and exploded a few blocks away from Risotto's building, filling his dark eyes with color. Suddenly he had a resolution. Was he naive in thinking that the following year they would be able to share together what everyone else was sharing? He would celebrate; not because the Earth completed another orbit around the sun, but for the simple fact of having Doppio next to him. He would kiss him when the clock struck twelve; perhaps he would swallow twelve grapes; even take a walk around the block with a suitcase; or he would fill his pocket with raw lentils; he would empty a glass of water onto the street to dry the tears and the anguish of that love that hurt him so much; he would throw old things out the window to scare away evil spirits, especially that one that tormented them from the back of Doppio’s psyche.
“We can try it. Remember you won’t be alone, Doppio. I’m here for you.” Risotto reassured him. And although he couldn't see it, he could feel the joy overwhelming the boy, who suddenly exclaimed:
"Oh my! Eight seconds to go! Ten-nine-eight!” he said hastily to make up for the late countdown.
"Seven," Risotto continued.
"Six!”
"Five,”
"Four!”
Three, two, one. The world around them was suddenly full of laughter, kisses, colorful explosions and hugs. Risotto felt a sudden nostalgia for the things he didn't have. But for now, at least they were watching the fireworks together, in different parts of Italy.