That morning I was not in store.
Will I was at work, what my officer, or around chatting, the newsagent or barbitonsore.
the way back towards lunch time, with the store closing, the wife had mentioned the movement in output the morning.
Among the small number of sales, told me the sale of a ficus benjamin , a beautiful plant that for some 'time filled an entire side of the cabinet towards the square.
He had sold to a gentleman ('a nice boy', who was already a good reason to dislike him now. She comparisons about the beautiful boys had them, perhaps, for me, then went always on the velvet like comparing a wonderful cat, maybe black with a toad, and the toad, with respect, I could be just me), but at the time of paying, he noticed of not having enough money.
In addition to beautiful, the young man had to have a brain exquisitely because, in a flash of genius, had now found the solution to the problem.
As mentioned in other episodes, adjacent to our store, there was a tobacconist, in addition to source of the poison to the lungs, was also a friend and, as needed, was ready to assist in processing or transport of products of the same shop.
reciprocated, especially on Wednesdays, which was the day of removal from storage of cartons of cigarettes.
The 'nice guy' had gone to a tobacco shop, he bought a blank check and receiving regular boiled again we had completed for the amount required for the plant, with its data, signature and date of deadline for entry to the collection ... after a fortnight.
(Here is a must an aside: I'm contrarissimo the death penalty, for any reason and in whatever way it is applied, among them find ways that the most odious and abhorrent is the stoning, because, strangely enough, in most cases victims are women . But like all the firmest convictions, this one has at least one exception: for example, a trader who becomes duped by a 'nice guy' macroingenuità commits an offense, and this is a stoning offense. Maybe with balls of clay or expanded polystyrene, or, to be more radical and incisive, with ping-pong balls, but when it takes it takes. End of engraved).
already hear the voice 'bill' had begun his break-up record, having regard to the deadline, I had cut to pieces, since the destination address, I had inserted directly into the meat grinder, which I would have given meatballs at least until the end of the year.
I had to bring the plant in the old part of town, all streets and no parking. And that's a 'butterfly' was able to make me overcome certain obstacles that I found ...
the thunder and lightning ceased, the second immediate reaction was, 'Do not bring it' and when the 'Everyone had come to claim I would have said, for example, that I had not found the recipient, and that if he had brought the cash in the meantime I tried to look better.
His wife, meanwhile, chopped now, had been dazzled by the 'nice guy' and I was struck by the calligraphy of the document: write a really nice, crisp without sounding childish.
The address on the envelope destined for the gift 'X surname Adele', a resident, as mentioned in the old part of town, and the accompanying note said, 'Forgive Claudio', all in the same beautiful Calligraphy of the bill.
I had said (to myself, without telling his wife that he would suddenly ask why to be forgiven) that a guy who wrote so well could not be a fregatore, and perhaps would have done credit to his 'notes', denying my black weather.
Although the thought that this guy win the girl by sending a plant and especially with the signing of a bill, well let me perplexed.
Anyway, I was in the shop, I could send him something with flowers, say, a beautiful branch cympidium well packaged, in addition to the fine figure would allow him to pay in cash what he had in his pocket.
aside the doubts, the aftermath: the preparation of the plant, a lucidatina all leaves, removal of some minor yellowing, toilet seat, belt ornaments, staple the ticket to be attached to the gift, cellophane, and departure .
As I had known, I had to leave the car in a parking lot outside the area, and I had walked into the path marked out by bell'amanuense, with the plant, about five feet high, but bulky arms.
Holding the jar, I had to constantly move from side to side to avoid clashes with passers-by and with the poles of the sign.
was an old tower block, which would never become old, it gave the impression of an imminent collapse.
The entrance consisted of a large arch, with no gate, that leads to a courtyard, from which branched off four dilapidated staircases.
Entering the courtyard, not to deny my soul flower, I thought, however, the plant had no long-lived: was closed by high walls of the building and the courtyard seemed to know of 'existence the sun or heard, or for a peek at the magazines that sprang from a kind of waste bins.
No telephones, no holes for letters, not a soul around to ask information.
From a small balcony overlooking the second floor there was a lady in her nightgown, to draw something, and I asked about the target of the plant.
I seem to remember he had a cigarette between his lips, and had also annoyed the air already in full morning, he had only stated the stairway and right with four fingers of one hand to tell the plan.
As a continuation of my work, I put together the keys to all types of lift, and a good amount of money for ten pounds for condos stingy who had placed the slot machines to go up and down .
No elevator, of course.
At the end of climbing, a landing with three doors of many homes.
I could have sworn that there were no names here either, but I was wrong, and there was also a working doorbell.
Plin-Plin Plon-Plon ...
silence.
Plin Plon-Plon-plin plin plin-Plon-Plon , more disappointment for angry that conviction to be answered.
But I had gained the attention of a neighbor, who quietly had the door ajar, stopped by the security chain.
Although we, the plant and I, of course, impaled in front of his front door, I asked the search.
"Ah, Lina, there is in the hospital, poor thing ...."
The 'poor' excluded that this could be a nurse or a sedan, poor thing could only be one person in hospital.
"Look, I just have to leave this plant, there is nothing to pay ...."
"It 's really beautiful ... who sends it?".
(E 'should be made clear that the privacy of mesh was then very large, and communicate that to know who the sender was not considered a crime).
"A Claudio ...."
"Ah, yes, is the son, a fluffy, it's also his fault that the hospital Lina comes and goes, sometimes the police are also looking for him here, but he no longer lived with the mother .... "
D'immediately occurred to me was an insult, I immediately removed because offensive to this mother (who appeared as a holy woman) and this is absolutely indifferent to Claudio, the son of ... which unfortunately could not be allocated.
The nice old lady had said, 'fluffy' Evidently, his vocabulary did not allow terms like villain villain villain, but at least the 'rogue' could have it run, I would not be shocked.
And, as the 'fluffy' I was probably playing the fool, that kind of endearment to me just seemed out of place.
Mrs. I was reassured about the plant, it would have taken care of her until the return of Lina, a legacy that time there was no one to steal.
On this point I had not the slightest doubt.
do not know if it happens to others happens to me: in a split second to think 'I fregato'e' carry me ', which was superimposed on a more articulate' but a scoundrel who sent a plant to be really sick mother perhaps only a fluffy '.
In short, the plant was still there, although I saw the 'butterfly' walk away, spernacchiante.
Coming back I ended the massacre of his wife, even toying with the vague possibility that the 'pay' to keep his promise.
At maturity, the bank deposit gentle butterfly, and after about ten days back, with an increase in the costs of non-collection.
Conclusion: We had put a collection but we were not ruined by this, his wife, still feels like the word 'bill' bleaching and begs for mercy.
Hope remains that this 'biricone' has put his head straight, and remained only a happy fluffy.
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