One minute past midnight. I am still sitting at my desk with the diary in my hand. I was with Joel for only forty-eight seconds. And yet, the time I spent in Hollywood went far beyond that. In fact, they had even booked a room for the night. I have always thought these things only happen in fantasy adventures, like "The Chronicles of Narnia," where the characters spend years inside a magical world after stepping through a wardrobe. But this is not a movie. My "flesh" can be pinched, and I can feel the pain perfectly. I start thinking like a mathematician, strange formulas popping up in my head.
"I spent only a few seconds of real time inside the diary, but I was at the crime scene for many hours. This means that every hour in the diary corresponds to five or six real seconds. So, if I was gone for forty-eight seconds, it means I spent about ten hours in Hollywood. Well, 'spent' might be a stretch, but..."
I do not have time to finish the sentence because sleep overcomes me.
I do not know how long I slept. The only thing I remember is the sound of the alarm announcing the start of a new day.
"I'm a lucky man," I say to myself, practicing some self-motivational training. "I am an incredibly lucky man. No one else has the chance to live two lives at the same time. But what a challenge."
Like every day for the past ten years, I prepare to go to the restaurant. My daily routine is always the same. In fact, I realize it is quite monotonous. "These eight days have given me an incredible boost in situations I never thought I would experience. I am exhausted. I need a vacation," I think, but my train of thought is interrupted as my gaze falls once again on the diary.
"Don't ignore the diary," Joel told me yesterday before catapulting me onto the film set. How can I ignore it? By now, it has become a fixed constant in my life. I glance at the clock, which reads 7:30 AM.
"Ten minutes before I must leave the house. If last night's calculations are correct, I have just enough time to handle a new adventure and still make it to work on time."
I open the diary and start writing.
Good morning, Joel.
The response, written strictly in red ink, arrives promptly.
Good morning, Giorgio. Ready for a new case?
Always ready!
Excellent! Today we are going on VACATION.
"My dear diary, you're worse than Google. Did you read my mind?" I dip the quill back into the ink...
VACATION
As happens every time I write the "entry" word into the diary, I am engulfed by a bright white light that transports me through time and leaves me on the dock of a small port. Next to me, I see Joel's small figure, already waiting for me with a smile.
"Here we are in the warmth. It's better if you change clothes too."
With a snap of Joel's fingers, my winter attire transforms into a white linen suit, perfect for the temperature I now feel.
"Where are we exactly?" I ask, admiring the stunning scenery surrounding us.
"We are at 'Edinburgh of the Seven Seas,' on the island of Tristan da Cunha."
"Never heard of it. But I am a bit concerned. Why is there so much activity here at the port?"
At that moment, I hear a loud rumble. I look up and realize we are on an active volcanic island.
"Joel, what are we doing here?"
"We're at the port because, as tourists, we need to leave the island. Today is January 9th, 1961, and the volcano has woken up. Let me share a secret with you. By October, all these people will have to leave the island because the lava will reach their homes, but as usual, we can't say anything about their future."
YOU ARE READING
ACCIDENTAL DETECTIVE
AventureGiorgio De Giorgi stands in front of the mirror, contemplating his first 40 years of life. A job as a chef in a restaurant in Turin and the desire to tell his life story. He decides to buy what will become his life diary. He finds a "vintage" diary...
