The Archangel of a Black Feather. Al Crown
Isabel turned to Claudio, “What did you see out there?” Claudio could not forget that horrible confused figure shrouded in the mist, and began describing her to his friends, luring them in a creepy sinister nightmare. Soon after the radio switched on by itself, and a contorted childish voice was heard reverberating in the speakers as if coming out the membranes; a watered sound coming from the abyss of darkness, a moment that scared them very much, confusing Claudio about its provenience. Ryan said, slightly abashed, “You cannot trust those frequencies, people are able to enter the antennas of the apparatus easily those days. It happened to the police enforcement too. I swear to God!” That voice continued…releasing its swishing rustled sounds.
When in his bedroom, Claudio recollected the red rose incident, the same flower he saw while skiing.
The incident was forgotten when Giacomo and his brother Tony were ready, surprising Claudio with a trip to the Seattle Rock Museum. They left early that morning, driving from north to south. For a moment they drove on the Second Narrow Bridge, parallel for a distance to the Lions Bridge.
The second Narrow Bridge connects the municipality of North Vancouver to the town of Burnaby, and consequently to the city of Vancouver. Claudio was facing backward while the vehicle was almost on top of the bridge. He could see a yellow blurred moon setting on the south- west side of the Pacific Ocean, whereas a shy rising red sun was opposing the earth’s satellite. He sensed as if part of a slow marching, while the car was relenting, and his cousin was sleeping beside him.
Moon and sun were creating an evocative atmosphere that the boy could feel for the first time in Vancouver. Perhaps all the answers Larry wanted were here. The priest was going northwest following the early morning celestial signs of guidance, the stars were exchanging from east to west, revering the North Shore mountain range. “What was hidden up there, in the wood?” The constellations overnight and the star of Venus in the early morning were pointing north. “Why was Larry going there,” wondered Claudio in his dreaming mind.
All appeared so schematic and geometric between the ocean and sky: city and mountains, people and spirits, a continuous opposition balancing our existences, revealing the only impossible truth, one in need of the other in an everlasting contest of prevailing survival.
Claudio crossed the American border, feeling excited being along an historical line that would show his destiny. The New World was waiting its revenge.
The day was spent at the Experience Music Project Museum, where Claudio could play and perform on a made-up stage, joined by Michael. Later Giacomo told his son, “I am going with Tony for a few days trip to San Diego. Can you survive without me, without getting in trouble?” Claudio teased his father showing his black hair, a shiny crew cut chiseling sharp his medium-tall stature, while two deep green eyes divided his little nose, dis- playing a little scar on his face. Michael on the other hand adjusted his light brown hair using a comb hidden in his pocket. A tall skinny fellow, who in time had developed some nervous tics because of a premature birth.
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