2.
Una bella spaggia
"You're crazy!"
"Yes I am, pass the wine."
The soldiers laughed wildly, reaching over the splintery tables and grabbing bottles, pouring them into metal containers and downing them in single gulps. Girls stood at the back, giggling and looking at the men with broad grins. The man called some over and vanished into the humid night.
Ludwig poured more cheap wine. They had purchased it from a broke merchant who begged them to take it at a lower price. The wine was bad but it was what they had. Ludwig raised his cup to his nose, sniffing the sharp scent of alcohol and aged grapes, before taking a massive swig.
Next to him one of his fellow soldiers was handing out cards, smacking them on the table and speaking in a slurred language. Another soldier watched. That soldier was small, thin, his face and fingers slender, and his eyes innocent. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and spoke in Polish to the soldier next to him. Behind that soldier were two doctors, enjoying themselves as all the rest. The doctors were both broad shouldered and excelled in feeling bad at their situations.
Ludwig's accident happened a week later.
A month after he met Feliciano, a new patient took the bed to his left. The one before had died in his sleep. The new patient screamed in his sleep and was convinced his food was poisoned.
Ludwig, calmly eating a plate of lamp and baked potatoes, with cream on top and a glass of beer, tried to peer through the curtain. He had not seen that patient's face yet. A tray of rice and sauce flew from the compartment, flying in front of Ludwig and landing splat on the floor, spraying sauce on the curtains on his side and in front of him. It skidded across the tiles, trailing food behind it like a snail's slime. A nurse quickly clicked her heels forward, bending down and picking up the trail. A glass of juice flew from the bed and landed on her back, spilling down her dress and skirt. She stood and took care of it without change in expression.
"You try to poison me I'll poison you, rotten whores!" The man hollered, flailing his arms. Ludwig watched his silhouette move. A doctor walked steadily over and slowly the man stopped moving.
Feliciano some time later returned and collected the empty tray on Ludwig's lap.
"That man's such a hassle," he said.
Ludwig nodded.
"The poor nurses who have to care for him," Feliciano shook his head and took Ludwig out to the garden in the wheelchair again.
"Feliciano," Ludwig said once they were out in the warmth.
"Yes?"
"Do you like wine?"
"Of course I do."
"I've never tried any good wine before."
"I've only seen the sea once."
"What?"
"I could see if I could bring you some good wine soon. How about after the surgery and once you're released I could bring you some?"
"That sounds wonderful."
Feliciano stood behind Ludwig, gripping the wheels, and allowing the steady wind to pump through the garden, brushing his hair from his face. Ludwig enjoyed it to, but showed no indication upon his strong jaw or brow.
"I could take you to the sea once I leave." Ludwig said.
"That would make me very happy."
Another pause ensued. It was not uncomfortable. It was a pleasant silence that passed between the two like cool water in a brook, soothing rather than tangling their nerves together like wires. The sun hung low in the sky, drowning the horizon in blood color.
"Do you have siblings?" Feliciano asked.
"Yes. Do you?"
"I have a brother."
"Why do you ask?"
"I was curious." Feliciano smiled briefly, and then the two returned.
Once there was a house upon a hill in the country side. When the sun would rise it would paint it red, as though it were a part of the horizon. Flecks of red would spread across the trees surrounding it on all sides. The field stretched on until another house came in the way. Most of the grass was eaten by brown cows, their strong jaws working and their round, beautiful eyes gazing across the silent hills. Staccato clouds arched in the sky.
A boy stood out in the field, before his home, holding a bucket to collect milk and a package of feed for the chickens plucking at the ground across from him. He had a red kerchief wrapped around his head, tucking his curly hair away from his face. His wide eyes, auburn, examined the world. He called to his grandfather that he would collect the milk.
Feliciano told this to Ludwig. "That boy was me." He added. Crickets chirped in the night. The other patients slept. Feliciano whispered all this in tones only the night knew.
"Then, after grandfather died, I went to Austria, and finally returned to home in Italy to live with my brother. My brother is a troubled man. He now fights in the war but he suffers famine. I fear he could die of something, hemorrhage, maybe syphilis, maybe pneumonia. It's terrifying." Feliciano added.
Ludwig watched him complacently.
"You must miss him," he said.
"Strangely enough, I don't… I only worry."
They fell silent again. Feliciano stood. "Sometimes I forget I'm a nurse here and not a friend."
"You are a nurse and a friend."
"But I must go. Good night."
"No, stay."
'I mustn't."
"Please?"
Feliciano gazed at him for a long time. "C'est pas normale."
"I don't know French."
"Neither do I."
"We won't be passants."
"What do you mean?"
"I'll take you to the sea. Let me kiss you."
"I'm not a woman."
"I know."
"Wir sind Männer."
"Ich weiß."
Feliciano paused, touching Ludwig's shoulder, and then turned and returned to his business.
I did not use a translator (unless I needed to fetch a letter my keyboard doesn't provide) so I used the little German, decent Italian, and French I know. If there is a mistake I'm very sorry. I tried.