He still couldn't believe what Lola had told him.
Mutant turtles in New York? It almost sounded like the title of a children's science fiction book.
Still, now that he thought about it, he shouldn't have been too surprised given his previous experiences ...
He took another sip from yet another cocktail of the evening, deciding to distract his mind from that topic; his gaze rested on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and after a few moments of reflection, he stretched out with a fluid movement from the couch to take one of the 3 cell phones he owned resting on it, specifically the black one in which there was only one memorized number.
He started the call and waited; he knew he'd find her awake despite the late hour.
"What do you want?". Direct and courteous as always...
"Good evening to you too little sister. How are you doing?"
"Stop calling me at this hour, idiot, you know I'm busy with training."
The smile that the young man had up to that moment on his face took on a bitter turn: "The old man doesn't let you go for 5 seconds, does he?".
"Let's just say he's been getting a lot more judgmental and paranoid lately," the lack of the usual sarcastic note in her voice set off alarm bells in his brain.
"Meaning?"
"He's going to leave to come to America."
At those words the alarm bell immediately changed into a deafening siren heralding catastrophes.
Suddenly he found it hard to breathe, his heart started pounding madly, the beats rumbling in his ears, canceling any sound that wasn't that of the screams he felt growing and pressing against his vocal cords to be released, while his sight start blurring, the pupils of his eyes narrowed like those of a trapped animal.
It can't be... It can't be happening... He can't have found me...
On the other side of the world, too far away to understand what his words had triggered, his sister was telling him something he didn't understand. He let go of the cell phone, the call still in progress, stopped in the middle of the room, paralyzed on the spot by the weight of something he still wasn't sure had happened, but which now hung like a Damocles blade over his head, ready to fall .
I don't want to... He mustn't... He can't...
...
...
DAMN IT!