World-Wolf - (ENGLISH)

Chapter 16

Around four o'clock or near, after I had gone to check if the park was open, I came back at the hotel. I said my brother's surname to the reception and a drooled old man nodded without saying a word.

"It's Gabe Minger. He took a room here. I don't remember the number, though".

"Kid, it's four a.m. in the middle of the night and you want that I call a customer?"

Boys, how much I was fed up by Frankenstein. Then my brother appeared from a gloomy room. He had a cigarette on his lip and wore an English jacket. Christ, I thought that jacket would have cost hundreds bucks just because it was fitted for my brother body and all and because the buttons were like those one of the doc. in Back-to-the-Future.

I think you got I like films. When I was a child I watched lots of them. I really liked them. Nowadays, there aren't so many good in the economy, though. They let come out only those one which have to run for that ceremony which gives 'the china statue', then for the rest days of the year, you can watch only films made to get as more as HIV Transmitter possible. Film companies suck. They don't care if a whole generation don't know Peter Pan. I have been really caught by Peter Pan. I'd like to re-watch it right now. I'd like to kiss the writer who wrote Peter Pan. I'd do it only because that old evil made me dream a lot when I was a cub. Tinkerbell's pixie dust. Christ, what the hell of fantasy had that English-man.

Anyway, I was telling you that Gabe, so and so doctor from the tropical island, had a cigarette in a cartoon style  between the upper and inner lips. He was now coming closer to me.

"He's with me. Don't worry about that".  He told to the drooled man.

"Okay, sir. I have the pleasure to remind you that smokers room is in that w-"

Boys, Gabe was getting mad. I can swear on God that he transformed himself like that Japanese character who changes his hairs colour.

"I don't care where the fuck is the damn smokers room. I paid one thousand dollars to get a room in this shithole and I smoke wherever I want to". As he was barking against the drooled man, I smelled a tremendous alcohol gust.

Doc Jekyll had guzzled some bottles of vodka. The guilts sometimes are toxic. They are worse than a rain of bullets. Think about that: if someone drills you of bullets soon or later you are going to die. I mean the lead probably hits some organs and at the end you kick the bucket. Guilts remain inside, instead.  Hell if you go in pharmacy and ask the pharmacist "Doc, give me a palliative for the guilts". It doesn't work like that.  With the question of the soul matter and all you can't fuck with. A person loses his mind because of that. It's a damn maze worse than the Minotaur one.

All this to say that Gabe was suffering a lot. Boys, after having screwed the drooled man up, he stared at me. It was unsettling.

"Your face is as same as hers was. I have been a moron, Le'. A piece of shit. I can't find peace with myself." Doc Jekyll was really in deep shit. I grabbed his arm and I brought him in a dispersive hall where red velvet chairs were all around in circled like in a stadium. Gabe stretched on one of them in the first row.

"Look Gabe, I get bored talking about those stuffs. I mean, I am supposed to be cheered up or something like that. And I don't have any kind of delirium of omnipotence or things psychologists say. Soon you'll go on the island which you know the name, that bastard of Cesare will be fucking with that kind of girl and I'll remain lonely like a dog. It's not your fault. It's not".

Gabe looked at me with a sorrowful glance. Boys, if he was drunk.

"You're right. Come with me. It's true, you have to learn a new language, but it will not require too much time. I have money to allow you to study in whatever university you want to and you won't desire any materials stuffs, ever again".