Two Friends by Alberto Moravia Read Free Book Online

earlier, I want to be a hero; the second will believe that if I do not accept his proposal it is because I am a coward. Neither coward nor hero, I am nevertheless forced to choose, because the only attitude that comes naturally to me has been compromised by my imprudent comment. And given that I would rather not follow Maurizio’s lead—though I’m not sure why—I am forced to do the opposite. Therefore, I will accept Federico’s proposal.”
    These reflections lasted only a few seconds. Then, with a slight feeling of falseness, Sergio said: “You don’t need to twist my arm … I accept, I’ll do it.”
    Federico threw his arms around Sergio’s neck, exclaiming that he had never believed that he would turn him down. The two young men immediately began to discuss ideas for Sergio’s articles; Sergio proposed a subject, which Federico approved with his usual enthusiasm. Sergio promised to bring the article to the offices by midnight and, bubbling over with enthusiasm, Federico left him to his task.
    As soon as he had left, Sergio went to the telephone to call Maurizio. He almost regretted his decision, which felt somewhat random.
    Maurizio did not let him finish: “You’ll come to regret
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    your decision, you’ll see … but do as you please, it’s your business after all.” But after saying good-bye and wishing his friend a good summer, Sergio noticed that he felt relieved. The fact that he had cometo a decision, no matter how little conviction he felt, still came as a relief, even if it should turn out to be a temporary solution. In any case, the complications would come later, since every decision leads to innumerable others.
    After hanging up, he got down to work. The heat was suffocating in the little room, and the smoke of many cigarettes hung in the air, even with the window open; the cloud of smoke seemed to be pushed inward by a mass of air even more dense and foul than the air inside. But at that moment, for some reason, Sergio felt almost stimulated by his uncomfortable circumstances. He sat down at his little table and began to write the article on a rickety old portable typewriter. As he typed, he became aware that he was thinking obsessively about Maurizio and his trip to Capri. He imagined the immense expanse of blue sea, luminous and overflowing with freedom; he could see his life on the island, protected from the surprises of the war, an oasis of calm amid the drama. The life he imagined was that of an idle spectator rather than a man of action. He realized that as he pictured each additional detail, the tone of his article darkened, his accusations becoming ever more uncompromising and decisive. He thought: at last he was reacting. As always it was the rivalry with Maurizio that drove him. Their meeting in the street and the way Maurizio lived his life, his offer of an escape to Capri, now felt like a distant memory. Maurizio’s ghost held out temptations to him which he had instinctively rejected—how else to explain his unaccountable, spiteful response? This idea calmed him, and after a pause, he continued to write withoutstopping until he had finished the article. Meanwhile, his sister had stopped in his doorway several times to ask, in the mournful, contrite tone his family always used with him, whether he would be joining them for dinner. Each time he told her that he was too busy.
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    Finally, he put the article in his pocket and went to the dining room, where the table was empty except for his place. His mother and sisters were waiting for him. As he sat down, he said: “I’ve decided that I’m not going to accept Maurizio’s invitation. I’m staying in Rome.”
    His sisters, who had barely been able to conceal their envy when he informed them of Maurizio’s invitation, did not seem dissatisfied with the news. But his mother, who feared for his safety, pleaded with him: “Sergio, why are you doing this? What will you do in Rome? You need rest. They say the English will