Read When the Night for Free Online Page B

broken? I’ll make her pay for it. They should take babies away from their mothers the moment they’re born, just as my father said.
    It’s none of my business how people raise their children. The earlier they grow up and leave home, the better. I became a mountain guide so I could leave home. I’d rather not be indoors any more than necessary. I sleep three hours, get up, and walk out into the night.
    With Luna and the kids it wasn’t possible. I allowed myself to get trapped in a prison. But it was she who complained, “You’ve locked me up in a prison.” And I would respond, “Do you realize what I did for you? I locked myself up in a house. And now you want to go out, eat in restaurants, go to the city? No, that’s too easy. We’ll stay here, together in our trap, with our beautiful children.”
    It’s too quiet now. I can’t hear anything at all. Maybe they’ve gone to bed. But it’s only six, it’s too early. After her idiotic scream, a dead silence. No child quiets down that quickly. Something must have happened. I’ll go and listen. I’ll go upstairs quietly, and if I hear them I’ll turn back.
    On the stairs, silence. I can’t hear either of them. Something must have happened. I ring the doorbell. It’s my house, I’m responsible.
    No answer. I try again. Silence.
    “Do you hear me?! Answer the door!”
    Silence.
    “Open up!”
    I yell and bang on the door.
    Silence. I look down and see liquid seeping under the door. I lean down and smell it. Wine.
    A broken bottle. What happened? I have to knock down the door. I run to get the ice axe next to the fireplace and back upthe stairs. I aim it at the lock and try to break it. Neither she nor the baby make any sound, as if they can’t hear me. Something serious must have happened. Maybe they’re dead. I strike the lock again, three or four times.
    The wood splinters but doesn’t break. It’s a solid door. A carpenter used to live here; he must have reinforced it. I’ll try again, harder. It can’t be harder than rock. Finally, a hole, now I just have to make it bigger. Big enough for my hand. I unlock the door from the inside and open it.
    The light is on and the floor is wet. The room with the fireplace is empty. In the kitchen, the baby is on the floor with his eyes closed, lying amid broken glass and liquid. Blood? I pick him up, he’s breathing. There is blood on his head. Where is she? I move slowly, careful not to slip with the baby in my arms. There she is behind a door, curled up on the floor like a pile of rags.
    “What happened?”
    Her eyes are empty.
    “Can you hear me? Wake up!”
    I should slap her, but my hands are full. I kick her.
    “Get up!”
    Now she’s trembling, like Luna. She does as I say.
    “Did he fall?”
    She doesn’t answer. I hand her the child.
    “Hold his head, talk to him. Try to wake him.”
    She takes him in her arms without looking. She says nothing, awaiting orders.
    “Let’s go.”

6

    D ARKNESS. TREES, A bridge, twists and turns, a dark stream. Who is driving? Where am I? The baby is sleeping. Where are we going? He fell and hit his head. I hold him close. My God, why doesn’t he wake up?
    The landlord is driving. We are in his car. Where is he taking us? How did he get in? I hear his hard voice, whispering.
    “Did he fall asleep again?”
    He stares at me in the rearview mirror.
    “Yes.”
    “Talk to him, wake him up. What’s his name?”
    “Marco.”
    Why does she have that haunted look? What is she afraid of?
    “We’re almost there. He shouldn’t fall back asleep. Wake him, talk to him!”
    “My darling, wake up! Come on, sit up.”
    “Don’t move him!”
    “Don’t sleep, my love, open your eyes, look at Mamma.”
    She’s crying now, the fool.
    “Keep going, speak louder.”
    “Everything is all right, my love. Wake up, I beg you! Now we’ll see the doctor and he’ll make everything all right. Open your eyes, look at Mamma! I’m here, near you, I won’t leave