Sara and her red silk scarf
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class is not water
NoonNovember 23, 2022 – 09:08
Must be beautiful Amman, I do. Yes, she says, there’s a big blue sky
We went to school together a lifetime ago and now we’re here instead, in the parking lot of viale Giochi del Mediterraneo grappling with this chance encounter, the last thing I expected this morning. Over the years I have become a different person, but she continues to do things and see people. This red silk scarf, for example, I swear I’ve always seen him wearing, he bought it in via Morghen with me, yet new, I don’t understand. She asks me again if I really am a teacher by trade. She can’t believe it. Sketch. She asks me if I ever miss the kids’ homework. Never, I answer. If I raise my voice. Sometimes, I admit. If I have become punctual. No. She nods. We are almost two old men, but the light in her eyes is the same.
Of course it doesn’t stop in the city. leaving for Amman. a situation to verify, he adds, because from there it seems there is a lift in a car. And then there’s this friend of his who works in a hospital in Amman, he guides us. I did not understand, I confess. But Sara never explains. Rather she asks me if I want to go with her. When, I ask in an uncertain voice. Now, she replies.
Decide now, Arturo, you don’t have much to do here, he says. I would like to say that I am going, because nothing binds me to these places, and instead I reply that I have four hours in class this morning and a parents’ reception in the afternoon. A busy day, sigh. And within seven minutes, that in 4 G we also have the task, I add. And at this point he smiles. And this smile takes me off the ground for an instant. My head is spinning a bit. Must be beautiful Amman, I do. Yes, she says, there’s a big blue sky.
Entering school a quarter of an hour later is like returning to a black and white world, the one that existed before the Pal and Secam systems. It is as if the school had become a narrow space overnight, a succession of rooms with gray ceilings and opaque glass in which a lot of people are agitated for no reason. In the middle of the morning, with the pack of homework resting on the 3E chair, Raimondino’s raid adds to all this. -I misread a question…I didn’t understand…can I change the answer?
-No. Time’s up. I walked out of class. We are in 3 E, do you notice?
-For just one question!- he insists.
His nerves are snapping. -She always tries to teach something, I know! But do you ever wonder if anyone wants to learn on the other side, huh?
-I’m very calm, professor! What? There are rules? I know it! But this is just an answer to correct! I do it here, in this class!
-There is a time to do things, Raim…
-But there’s no lesson…- I try to close.
-So the lesson is that there is a time to do things. Then it is no longer possible.- She turns on her heels. –You asshole…-she hisses, probably.
Sara with her red scarf comes to mind. You’ve never had a stable job, Sara, in all these years. But I’m always here: fixed salary, trimesters, programmes, chalks, electronic blackboards and in any case always bells to measure the hours. And I’m tempted to make Raimondino change this damn answer to this useless task at the beginning of the year. For then I don’t.
The colors have not reappeared to me yet. I wonder if the others see them. Meanwhile I decide not to tell anyone about the big blue sky above the ocher expanse of Amman, not even Chiara and Cardamone. It would be useless. That these are our business, mine, Sara’s and those I was with in those years there. And then I attack with roll call in 3 E.
November 23, 2022 | 09:08
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