Modern Times: In action

Comfortably sitted in the pub, called The Sweet Wonder, me and Basil started our talk, he with a black coffee and me with a hot chocolate near.

Curios, I said: - Well, Mr Basil, tell me: there's something wrong? -

-It looks so clear? -

-You seems tired. -

He chuckled again: - Well, you have a great sense of observation, my dear. In fact, there were some problems. -

He sighed and begin to tell: - Like my great-great grandfather, I've decided to dedicate my life to the investigation, and even Scotland Yard call me sometime to resolve crimes. -

-That's great! - I said, ever more interested at every word.

-Yes, but... In these days I've worked too much. Eh, I don't have the same constitution of the original Basil: he was able to don't sleep for days, to solve a case, or for a week! -

-Yes, but... that's not too healthy. -

-Maybe you're right. -

We sipped our drink, followed by a minute of silence, and then he said: - You're a student, right? Of art, at the last year. You use the right hand and you're very interested in literature, expecially in ancient manuscripts. -

I remained speechless. -How could you say that? -

-Quite simple. On your right hand there are traces of red paint, and because of your young age you can't be anything else than a student, so a student of art. There is only one school where that particular colour tone of red is used, and that's a highschool of art. Those traces are on your right hand because it's the dominant. -

I was amazed. -Impressive. And my interests in literature? -

-On your right forefinger there are traces of ink, but nowadays young persons like you uses technology to read, am I right? -

-Yes, most of my classmates and friends use E-Book or similar, but there's nothing like reading a good book in the same old way. -

-That's why the ink is on your finger: you use to wet it to turn the page by the corner, but sometimes this habit leave his trail. -

-Like in the novel "The Name of the Rose". Okay, but the ancient manuscripts? -

-This kind of ink is not used in the books of our days, expecially because the print techniques are changed, so the obvious conclusion is that the ink comes from a book of some century ago. -

I was enchanted by all his logical reasonings: - And you can also say the name of my school? -

-Camberwell School of Art. -

-Wow... If I hadn't seen that, and readed about the logical method of deduction of your great-great grandfather, it could appear that you have met me before! -

-I don't like to use this methods on strangers. Sometime, what I discover can hurt. -

His face faded in a brief moment of sadness, quickly replaced by a smile: - But tell me more than what I've deducted, please. Do you want? - he asked, kindly.

-Well, I've always lived here in London. My family and I own a little restaurant near Soho. Like you said, I'm at the last year in the highschool, but my dream is not to be a painter. -

-No? -

-My dream... is... to be a director, one day, maybe of a movie that will become famous. -

I blushed a little: - But... not all the persons that know it appreciate it. -

-Really? Why? -

-My parents support me, and tell me to continue believing in my dream, but a lot of persons in my class, and in my school, say that is an impossible dream, that it will never realize... But I don't listen to them. -

-Yes, don't listen to those that try to take you down - said a voice behind me, a voice too familiar.

I bit my lower lip so I turned slowly, knowing what awaited me: a beautiful young mouse girl, with long platinum hair and white fur, with two blue eyes cold like ice, dressed in a short black dress maybe too tight, looked at me with derision and conptempt.

-Hi, Eve - I said, trying to kept my self control.

-Hi, Emily, what a coincidence find you here in such a company. -

-What do you mean? -

-Well, it's rare to see a man with you, my dear. -

-Sure, because you take all the attentions. -

She chuckled, malignant: - That's because I'm more beautiful than you. So I can't believe your friend, here, haven't said anything yet. -

Basil assumed a serious expression: - It's because I'm not interested in narcissists women, that's all. -

Eve seems upset: - W-what? -

Basil continued: - Sure, a person like You, Miss, sure is beautiful, but empty, with nothing that can attract one like me. -

Eve tried to stop her mouths, so she limited herself to turn away with the face red of angry, like the vitiated girl she is, and go away.

A smile rised on my face: - Wow, you've gave her a lesson! -

-That's true: I prefer someone with more brain than appearance. But who was that girl? -

I sighed: - One of my classmates, unfortunately. Eve Johnson. Her daddy is a millionaire, so she believe that everything to her is due, but she started bad her year at school, and her only activity seems to be give trouble to the next. -

-I see... Well, there's always one of that kind in every school, believe me! - he laughed.

I smiled again: - It seems that you saved me again, today... -

-Again? -

-Yes. I hate her for a bad joke that she does to me, and she never lose an occasion to remember it to me. -

-What she have done? -

-Well, uh... - I motioned to him to approach me, and then I whispered: - She have hid a ballon full of water under the pillow of the stool where I usually sit to painting, and you can imagine the rest. -

-Oh, well, that was imbarassed for you, right? -

-She's the devil in disguise! I hope this school year will end soon, so I will never see her again. -

A second after my words, on the radio in the pub began one of my favourite songs, and my angry for Eve quickly vanished:

1, 2, 3, 4,

Can I have a little more?

5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

I love you!

A, B, C, D,

Can I bring my friend to tea?

E, F, G, H, I, J

I love you!

I started to sing along whispering, with a smile.

-So, you like this kind of music? - Basil asked.

-Yes, but I like every kind of music, to be honest. But I love a lot old songs - I answered, happy.

-Well, that's something we have in common - he said, kindly.

For a moment, when I looked at him, around us seemed to have formed a kind of hedge. Teh rest ofthe people around us seemed to disappear.

But the moment was interrupted by the ringtone of my cellular: it was my mother.

-Hello? Mom, what... -

-Emily, dear, something terrible is happened at your school! Come here, honey, immediately! -

-W-what? What's happened? -

-One of your schoolmates is disappeared! -