The Unseen (17 page)

what do you do in here to pass the time and then it occurs to me that I don't even know how much time I'll have to spend here I don't even know what to wait for no that's it the lawyer I have to wait for the lawyer I'll leave the cell to see the lawyer but then I'll have to come back again and I'm gripped by an oppressive sensation as if something was squeezing my lungs my heart my stomach everything inside everything closed compressed a painful lump I look at my black hands I have to be careful where I put them so that I don't leave marks all over the place my clothes the sheets but I've nothing to keep my hands occupied they've left me nothing only half a pack of cigarettes but no lighter what good are cigarettes to me if I've nothing to light them with

I hear the sound of the key in the door two turns of the lock the door opens the sergeant of the guard appears with two guards beside him and he tells me that I have to go and see the doctor I go out without asking why because I guess that it's routine we go down to the end of the corridor and we reach the last cell that's been converted into an infirmary if you can call it that containing a small bed covered with a transparent plastic sheet a desk and a plastic cabinet with a few medicines in it the doctor is young an unpleasant peevish expression on his face he hardly glances at me then he writes my details on a card and starts to ask me about childhood and adolescent illnesses

measles mumps chicken pox all that sort of thing he reads them off a list rattling away like an express train he doesn't even wait for me to answer he ticks off each line on the list and only looks up with a question about whether I've got any infectious illnesses I answer no and then he's finished he scribbles something at the bottom of the card and signals to the guards to say that we can leave the whole thing has lasted a minute I'm back in my cell again the gate and the metal door slam behind me I stand there for a bit then I decide to make the bed I do it all very slowly I take twice or three times as long as I'd usually take so as to fill up the longest possible time

when I get to the blanket I realize it can't have been washed for months if I move it at all it sends up clouds of dust it's so full of dust it weighs double it's more or less covered in patches of dried stuff it's really disgusting but it's cold and I can't do without the blanket and I spread it out evenly over the sheets I stretch out on the bed and I start reading the things written on the walls trying to concentrate on one bit of writing after the other trying to read that whole muddle of stains and dirt it seems as if the stench is stronger when I'm lying down I get up I lie down again three or four times until I'm sure it's just the same or that at least there isn't much difference

I go back to looking at the writing there are dates and signatures dates going back two even three years before signatures with greetings insults to guards insults to other names and the word bastard recurs often bastard this bastard that bastard prison then women's names with hearts words of love poems drawings of pricks and cunts the odd hammer and sickle the odd fasces political slogans of left and right a few five-pointed stars signed BR
*
drawings and writings altered distorted and then everywhere dirty stains splatters stripes and marks in a brownish colour it occurs to me I could write something too the ones who made those marks did it because like me they had nothing to do to pass the time but I can think of nothing I'd like to write on those walls

time passes I'm not aware of the speed of time passing I can't keep an eye on it because they've taken away my watch and you can't see daylight at one point the spy-hole is opened a new face appears he nods for me to go over and he hands me a plastic plate and a plastic glass he asks me if I want soup I try to look out through the spy-hole to see what soup he means outside there's an iron trolley with a huge pan on it a huge ladle sitting in a thin reddish broth I say I don't want any and then he hands me a plastic bag containing a scrap of dry cheese two shrivelled green apples and a piece of bread that at least is fresh

the spy-hole is closed again I hear the sound of the trolley going further away I put my lunch on my jacket because the blanket disgusts me I wash the apples under the tap but I'm not hungry despite not having eaten since yesterday morning however I eat just the same I eat slowly chewing the food over and over I think that even with eating it's better to make things last as long as possible but I also think that it can't be any later than noon since they've brought me food that only a few hours have gone by I'm cold the dampness is getting into my bones I can feel shivers down my back I put my jacket on again its lining all torn from the searches I move about a bit to warm up I try to measure the number of steps I can take in the cell four steps the length of it four and a half steps the width of it and about turn too few for passing the time and so I lie down again

28

The demonstration sets off with our group at the head of it along with Talpa the trade unionist from the occupied factory there are drums and cow bells that make an infernal din first we go through the village everybody's outside watching in the roadway on the pavement at the windows there has never been a demonstration before in this village we start chanting a few fairly tough slogans and all the workers men and women take them up right away and they have a good time shouting out production methods like you've never seen when you stick the boss in the pressing machine prices get higher every day we'll help ourselves but we won't pay we go through the whole village a mini-bus full of
carabinieri
follows at a distance once we've left the centre of the village we head towards the small factories some are shut having heard about the demonstration and the plans to stir things up that were going round the bars the night before and a lot of workers didn't turn up for work

the same thing happens with three or four small factories then Pepe who's a bit sceptical goes right round the fourth factory he sees that the cars are parked at the back that they've kept the cars out of sight the gates are closed to give the impression that the factory was closed Pepe tells the people at the very front of the march and in no time word gets right to the back we turn around and we reach the factory gate everybody is shouting scabs out gutless scum a hell of an uproar with drums and cow bells but not a sound from inside Cotogno with Ortica Valeriana and the others go round the back they climb up the gate and throw a few stones at the cars everybody has an idea what's going to happen and Talpa makes a dash for the back but some workers restrain him and tell him not to bother for those guys are shitbags

the workers who were inside come out on to the forecourt one at a time first surveying the lie of the land from the half-open iron gateway the oldest guy comes up to the gate with everybody yelling at him he talks to the trade-union man who he seems to know he says he didn't know there was a strike otherwise he'd have joined it he comes to an agreement with the trade-union man they'll all come out and we'll stay there to make sure the scabs get into their cars while everybody outside the gate lines up on both sides they've no option but to go dead slow and you can see the fear on their faces their windows rolled up and the safety catches down spit hits the windows the odd kick on the sides of the cars it's the women who are most enraged they stop a few cars standing in front of them and shaking their fists

they leave and we get on with the demonstration another small factory and here too people working but here they're not even bothered about hiding their cars they're doing it quite openly tempers rise but no sooner do they hear the uproar than they come out at once they invariably have the same excuse saying they didn't know about the strike we go on like this one small factory after another some are genuinely shut down in others the workers come out before we get there and one guy is actually waiting for the march and he joins it we get to a small rotor factory one of those where they've taken over the work from the occupied factory that the demonstration's for the gates open some of us flood inside on to the shop floor marching round in a muddle because there isn't room for us all

you can hear bumps and thuds the plastic material they're working with ends up on the ground Lauro gets into a fight with a scab he doesn't want to come out they're separated almost at once then the scab comes out pressing a handkerchief to his nose with blood pouring out of it we don't get there in time to clear out the little block where the offices are because the office workers have already all taken to their heels and we go on with the demonstration towards another factory this one is a bit bigger than the others there must be about thirty workers but not all of them are at work there too the cars get kicked and thumped one car window gets shattered Talpa runs backwards and forwards trying to cool down tempers and this time Cotogno gets pissed off and tells him to cut out playing at being a fireman

the gates are closed there's an uproar to get them opened from the entrance the two owners emerge looking pissed off and making a show of confidence they open the gate and start talking to Talpa however the people behind him push and break through the two owners take to their heels and stop in front of the big glass door shielding it with their bodies behind it you can see the scabs who've now stopped working and are peering outside the two owners go back to their argument with Talpa who's telling them flat today nobody's working everybody out I've already been here to talk about this problem if people are working here they're breaking our struggle to keep our jobs because with the overtime that you're doing here you're doing our work from our factory that we've occupied and you're breaking our struggle

the two owners aren't impressed one of them looks at the bus with the
carabinieri
that's stopped about thirty yards away and says now I'm calling the
carabinieri
Talpa answers the
carabinieri
can see perfectly well what we're doing and they're not interfering because I've talked to them too and I've told them that I'm taking responsibility for there being no trouble but you've got to bring the workers out the two owners aren't impressed and they say we've got no right to do what we're doing further back the workers are beginning to get impatient somebody starts shoving that's enough that's enough let's go inside Talpa goes on arguing with all the workers yelling behind him the first stones fly you can hear the shed windows breaking

the two owners get even more irate Talpa acts as if nothing has happened and he goes on arguing I'm right behind him beside Cotogno and Ortica I'm holding a flag with a big pole the workers behind me keep shoving I hear the window panes breaking and without even thinking about it I thrust the pole forward against the glass door there's pandemonium the whole door collapses there and then a shard of plate glass comes away from up above and falls smack on Talpa's head fragments bounce off me and others who are nearby a cut opens on the trade-union man's bald head and instantly turns red shit I had no idea it was so fragile maybe it was badly built

one of the two owners the one that wanted to call the
carabinieri
thinks it was Cotogno who broke the glass door and he lands him a punch on the nose Ortica reacts with an instant reflex with both hands he lifts the banner and brings it straight down on to his head I hear the blow I see his eyes rolling then his legs giving way and he falls in a heap the other owner is petrified because Ortica has already raised the banner again over his head but he doesn't bring it down Talpa takes his hands away from his head and looks at his fingers messy with blood he's a bit stunned there's a moment of silence of general dumbfoundment the owner lifts his partner under the armpits and drags him towards the wall

from behind us there's shoving and everyone goes inside all the scabs run away leaving by the side doors but no one runs after them we take it out on things like in the earlier factory only more so all the plastic material ends up on the ground scattered everywhere all the window panes are broken this shit hole of a factory is where I work Verbena tells me the angriest the ones who do the most damage are the young ones and the women but the others think they're quite right they say nothing they don't try to stop them when we go outside the
carabinieri'
s bus is still there it hasn't moved they haven't even got out

the two owners have disappeared the march re-forms and other small factories are cleared out but there are no more incidents the cut on Talpa's head isn't as deep as it looked at first but he's pissed off with us because he knows it was us behind him when the glass door collapsed but he doesn't say anything to us he just acts pissed off without blaming us we go back to the canteen in the occupied factory and there's a decision to do a leaflet to be handed out in the village so as to explain what has happened we write it and we pass round the text which is approved unanimously other clear-outs are threatened if in the next few days we get to know of overtime still going on in the small factories then groups of us go to hand out the leaflet in the streets and the shops and the bars in the village

29

The light above the door is bright and it hurts my eyes I'll have to lie on my stomach to sleep or put the pillow over my face but I wasn't sleepy and so I started thinking about the comrades who by this time will all have mobilized around my arrest they'll all be having discussions at the centre they'll be doing things to get me out of here they'll be talking to the lawyer I can imagine how the news got round fast immediately after my arrest telephone calls appointments meetings by this time the whole movement will already know about my arrest and now they'll all be organizing for everything that has to be done when I think about the comrades I feel a bit better as soon as I'm able to write I'll bring them right up to date it's years since I've written a letter I try to think of everyone I must write to there are too many better to write collective letters