SALVE ROMA! A Felidae Novel - By Akif Pirincci Page 0,20
its refinement, they have no freaking clue of where to find these treasures. They follow their conservative instinct of territorial persistence, stay at the ruin site and wait for charity.«
»Which is quite less than one can say for you.«
»Too right. Rome is my pleasure garden. There isn’t a spot I wouldn’t know, not a secret kept from me, and not a single delicacy, which I haven’t tried. I’m a wanderer and il cronista di Roma, I’m the whiskered Marcello Mastroianni. I am Rome! And you, Francis, you investigative tourist, I will take you by the paw and let you in on the sweet and bitter aspects of my beloved city.«
The tapered black face seemed euphoric, and the green eyes beamed as if they were two lights that were supplied with more power than they needed. Indeed, Antonio apparently was a stroke of luck to me because in this moloch I couldn’t have asked for a better guide. Especially as I had, without words and out of pure self-respect, promised to reveal this murder mystery, and therefore depended on a Rome insider.
Meanwhile I believed that there was a deep sad gulf between Antonio’s laud on his city and what I thought to be the circumstances in his biography. As it had been this very city where he must have experienced the biggest trauma in his life. Due to his cultivated manner of expression and his sophisticated attitude, the idea of him being born as a stray seemed absurd. So he had been abandoned just like the others. But which nutcase abandoned such a pretty guy whose superior intelligence couldn’t have been a secret for long? And why?
»Okay, okay, I got it, Antonio«, I said. »You love Rome more than cable TV. Still I can’t get the idea out of my head that in a former life you weren’t a wanderer and il cronista di Roma at all but had a real home. And this home belonged to one of these wonderful Romans. Right?«
Promptly, his curtain of happiness rang down like theatrical scenery. The silky head sank low, and so did his eyelids, narrowing his eyes to slits, his snout trembled softly. I guess I had twisted the knife in a still festering wound.
»O yes, Francis, I used to live with a human«, Antonio said, his voice shaking, while he turned his head away from me so I wouldn’t see his desolated face. »He was my Signore, my best friend, my idol. He was a real Roman. I still remember how he used to dress up for the night in front of his mirror and asked for my opinion, half kidding, half not, without suspecting that I really understood. Rolled up sleeves with his Rolex on or rather pulled down with cuff links? The red Brioni tie or just an open collar with two buttons undone? Then he tried on some stylish suits, always joking with me like with an old pal. I remember the smell of his aftershave, tangy and understated. I will never forget the beautiful ladies, which he brought home from his nighttime expeditions. Each of them a petite Roman goddess. And never will I forget the parties at the loft, when they opened bottles of champagne with knifes and when I was the beloved center of attention. In this home I was the cheerful soul and the icing of the cake that was his life.«
»Sounds like a refugee from a natural reserve for critically endangered machos«, I said sort of unaffected. »I’m sorry, Antonio, but the description of your former owner somehow sounds like some Jesus constructed by Ferrari. On the face of it, between the tying of Brioni ties and opening of champagne he still found time to get rid of you. Can you maybe tell me why?«
»What a hottie!« Antonio burst out suddenly.
He yanked up his head, and automatically I followed his eyes, which focused on the distant end of the alley. Although the darkness was making it quite hard to see, we faced a feline couple, which were enjoying themselves there. The snow-white female and her reddish brown lover, a pretty muscular guy, gently rubbed themselves at each other, swatted each other on the nose and took turns in hissing sensually. It wasn’t hard to guess what was about to happen shortly. My good breeding allowed me to watch the scene from the corners of my eyes only; actually I wanted to get up right away and slip off.