The Prank of the Good Little Virgin of Via Ormea by Amara Lakhous

Author:Amara Lakhous
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Europa
Published: 2016-03-22T00:00:00+00:00

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Presentiments are real, they do exist. I can’t explain this rationally, but I’m sure of it. It’s a sort of warning that comes to you from within. An inner voice that puts you on guard, tells you to get ready because something serious or dangerous is about to happen. In this context you might call it a sixth sense. This thought about presentiments occurred to me when I saw that enraged mob descending on our camp.

It all happened very fast. Around 7:30 P.M. we heard voices coming closer. At first it seemed like sound coming from a radio or a television set, but in fact it was an actual demonstration. A big demonstration; and what they were protesting against was us.

We shut up our trailers and went away to watch from a distance. There were lots of people with candles and signs of all kinds. I didn’t have a chance to read them all, but it only took a few to make me realize that there was trouble in the air: “Get the Gypsies Out of Turin”; “Gypsies=Rapists”; “Get Out, Rapists”; “Down with Bleeding-Heart Liberals”; “Get the Rapists away from Our Little Girls”; “Enough with Urban Blight.”

We immediately understood the gravity of the situation. The tension increased as the demonstrators got closer to the camp. At a certain point, two guys with their faces hidden behind helmets broke off from the main group and headed for Medina’s trailer. Then and there we didn’t know what they were planning to do. But after a few seconds we saw them pouring liquid around the trailer. Medina started screaming: “Demir! There’s a little boy inside! Demir! Demir! Demir!”

The little boy had secretly gone back into the trailer to get his favorite toy. The bastards had used gasoline or some other highly flammable substance. Just like that, the trailer was on fire. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Medina ran toward the trailer and I ran after her shouting in anger and despair: “Stop! Stop!” Medina was afraid, she was hesitating. But I didn’t think twice; I ran straight in, despite the flames.

I only remember a few scenes. I enter the trailer, I hear the little boy crying. I pick him up and take him in my arms. I feel the fire on my flesh. I rush out and I fall. Then I can’t hear anything else . . . total silence!

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