“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m trying to say that you are like the Devil in an old fairy tale: you want to buy my soul with Lalla, who is beautiful, yes, but hardly unique … But my soul is truly unique, if perhaps not beautiful, and once I’ve sold it … that’s it … I don’t have another. The truth is, everything happened too quickly, but no matter, it just reinforces my conviction that Lalla holds little value compared to what you want in exchange … I refuse your offer.”
“You refuse …,” Sergio mumbled.
“Yes.”
Sergio felt that he was going mad. “Don’t you realize
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that you desire Lalla intensely? I warn you, you may regret your actions.”
“Why should I?”
“Because …” Sergio suddenly felt perfectly lucid and eloquent, despite his agitation. “I’ll explain that in a moment … You said that you were willing to join the Party, isn’t that so?”
“Yes.”
“And this hasn’t changed?”
“No,” Maurizio said after a moment.
“Well,” Sergio said, triumphantly, “I offered you the chance to join while gaining something for yourself, in other words Lalla … That way, you would become a respectable man, and to top that off, you would have the pleasure of possessing Lalla … But if you don’t accept, your desire to become a Communist goes unfulfilled, your disgust in your current lifestyle continues, and on top of everything else, you will have to live with the regret of letting Lalla slip through your fingers. Are you sure you’re making the right choice?”
Sergio felt strong and lucid; he was convinced that he had Maurizio in a bind. He thought he saw a hint of worry in Maurizio’s eyes. His friend was silent for a moment, then asked: “What do you mean? I can change my mind?”
“Whenever you like.”
“If I were to ask you to call Lalla back to my room, you would do it?”
“Yes,” Sergio answered, feeling almost drunk.
Maurizio seemed to debate something in his mind. “All right,” he said in a low, hoarse voice, “call her.”
Sergio did not hesitate. As if transported by a magical breeze, he floated out of Maurizio’s room and into Lalla’s. Maurizio’s analogy, equating Sergio to a Devil who expects a soul in exchange for earthly gifts, exalted him and freed him from his last remaining scruples; it endowed him with a kind of clear-sighted, demonic lucidity. “Yes, I want his soul; it is the most important thing in the world to me … What do I care about Lalla?” He burst into
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her room and closed the door behind him. Lalla was in bed; only her head and one arm were visible above the covers. But she was awake and she watched Sergio, her eyes open wide. “Come on,” Sergio said quickly, “go to Maurizio.”
“Why?” she asked, surprised.
“He has accepted the deal,” Sergio said, almost joyfully; “come on … he said yes.”
She did not seem to understand. “What do you mean, he said yes?”
“He will convert to Communism if you give yourself to him.”
“And what about you?”
“I want you to do it,” Sergio said. He paced around the room. Then, hurriedly: “No, don’t move … I’ll call Maurizio. I’ll have him come here, it’s better.” He had the impression that Lalla wanted to say something, but he didn’t give her the chance. He opened the connecting door and said to Maurizio, who was still sitting on the bed: “Please … come in.”
Maurizio smiled slightly as he entered the room. Lalla stared at him, then at Sergio, and remained willfully silent, as if waiting to see what would happen next. Sergio said to Maurizio: “Go ahead … I’m leaving,” pointing at Lalla, who still lay under the covers with her eyes open wide and one bare arm next to her head. Still smiling, Maurizio went to the bed and slowly caressed Lalla’s face. Lalla watched him, still saying nothing. Sergio took a step toward the door, but Maurizio raised one hand and said, in a clear voice: “Don’t go.”
Sergio felt his heart skip and stopped in his tracks, his hand still on the doorknob: “Why?”
“I want to say something,” Maurizio said. “Sit there.” He pointed to a chair near the headboard.
Sergio sat down. His heart was beating furiously, and his face was burning. “You fell for it,” Maurizio said, slowly.
“What do you mean?”
“You fell for it,” Maurizio repeated, sitting at the foot of the bed, his legs elegantly crossed: “I’ve been
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waiting for this moment for over a month … You fell for it and there’s no going back.”
“But what do you mean?” Sergio asked once again, in an agitated voice.
Calmly, Maurizio explained: “I’m not in love with Lalla, nor have I ever been. Even though I find her very beautiful and very desirable, I have never desired her and don’t desire her now … but I wanted to prove something to you. In other words, I too wanted your soul … and I knew it would be mine if I convinced you to do certain things … You wanted me to become a Communist, and I wanted to show you what Communism can lead to. And one more thing … I have no intention or desire to become a Communist … I never have … Not only do I have no desire to do so, but I have always hated Communism … In other words, I am and have always been an anti-Communist. And that is why I became involved in this whole ruse.”
“What does that mean?” Sergio asked, aghast.
“It means that while you did your best to convince me to sell my soul for an hour of lovemaking with your woman, I was trying to manipulate you into selling yours … by doing something which, when you look back, will make you deeply ashamed … In simple terms: I wanted to see whether, in the name of Communism, you would sell the woman who loves you and whom you love. And I succeeded. Judge for yourself which one of us has lost his soul to the other.”
“So none of it was true. You weren’t tempted by Communism … You didn’t love Lalla …”
“All lies.”
“Why did you give her the money?”
“In order to trick you … A man who accepts money from his wife’s lover is lost … And that money was not easy for me to obtain … I’m not as rich as you think … I had to sell some of my mother’s jewels.”
“You wanted so desperately to prove me wrong?”
“At least as desperately as you wanted me to sell my soul,” Maurizio said, coldly.
“But what have you gained?”
“Just as I said … I have proved that you Communists
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are not as clever as you think … You are willing to give away what is real for an illusion … and you are capable of dishonorable behavior … In other words: I am now in possession of your soul … It’s almost as if I had it here in my pocket … and you will never have my soul.”