o and Liliana turned up two days later, complete with
their baby and a basketful of goodies.
'Just imagine, Momo,' said Liliana, beaming, 'Nino went to see Uncle
Enrico and the other old men. He apologized to them, one after the other,
and asked them to come back.'
Nino smiled, too, and scratched his ear in some embarrassment. 'Yes,'
he said, 'and back they all came. I can say goodbye to my plans for the inn,
but at least I like the place again.'
He chuckled, and Liliana said, 'We'll get by, Nino.'
It turned out to be a lovely afternoon, and before leaving they
promised to come again soon.
So Momo went the rounds of all her old friends, one by one. She called
on the carpenter who had made her little table and chairs out of packing
cases, and on the women who had brought her the bedstead. In short, she
called on all the people whom she had listened to in the old days and who,
thanks to her, had grown wiser, happier or more self-assured. Although some
of them failed to keep their promise to come and see her, or were unable to
for lack of time, so many old faces did turn up that things were almost as
they used to be.
80
Not that Momo knew it, she was upsetting the plans of the men in grey,
and that they couldn't tolerate.
Soon afterwards, one exceptionally hot and sultry afternoon, Momo came
across a doll on the steps of the old amphitheatre.
It wasn't uncommon for children to forget all about expensive toys they
couldn't really play with and leave them behind by mistake, but Momo had no
recollection of seeing such a doll - and she would certainly have noticed
it, because it was a very unusual one.
Nearly as tall as Momo herself, the doll was so lifelike that it might
almost have been mistaken for a miniature human being, though not a child or
a baby. Its red minidress and high-heeled sandals made it look more like a
shop-window dummy or a stylish young woman about town.
Momo stared at it, fascinated. After a while she put out her hand and
touched it. Instantly, the doll blinked a couple of times, opened its
rosebud mouth, and said, in a metallic voice that sounded as if it were
issuing from a telephone, 'Hello, I'm Lola, the Living Doll.'
Momo jumped back in alarm. Then, automatically, she replied, 'Hello,
I'm Momo.'
The doll's lips moved again. 'I belong to you,' it said. 'All the other
kids envy you because I'm yours.'
'You aren't mine,' Momo said. 'Someone must have left you here by
mistake.'
She picked the doll up. Again the lips moved. 'I'd like some nice new
things,' said the metallic voice.
'Would you?' Momo thought for a moment. 'I doubt if I've got anything
you'd care for, but you're welcome to look.'
Still holding the doll, Momo clambered through the hole in the wall
that led to her underground room. All her most treasured possessions were in
a box beneath the bed. She pulled it out and lifted the lid.
81
'Here,' she said, 'this is all I've got. If you'd like anything, )ust
tell me.' And she showed the doll a colourful bird's feather, a pebble with
pretty streaks in it, a brass button and a fragment of coloured glass. The
doll said nothing, so she nudged it.
'Hello,' it said. 'I'm Lola, the Living Doll.'
'I know,' said Momo, 'but you told me you wanted something. How about
this lovely pink seashell? Would you like it?'
'I belong to you,' the doll replied. 'All the other kids envy you
because I'm yours.'
'You told me that, too,' said Momo. 'All right, if you don't want any
of my things, perhaps we could play a game together. Shall we?'
'I'd like some nice new things,' the doll repeated.
'I don't have anything else,' Momo said. She took the doll and climbed
back outside again. Then she put Lola, the Living Doll, on the ground and
sat down facing her.
'Let's pretend you've come to pay me a visit,' Momo suggested.
'Hello,' said the doll. 'I'm Lola, the Living Doll.'
'How nice of you to call,' Momo replied politely. 'Have you come far?'
'I belong to you,' the doll said. 'All the other kids envy you because
I'm yours.'
'Look,' said Momo, 'we'll never get anywhere if you go on repeating
yourself like this.'
'I'd like some nice new things,' said the doll, fluttering its
eyelashes.
Momo tried several games in turn, but nothing came of them. If only the
doll had remained silent, she could have supplied the answers herself and
held an interesting conversation with it. As it was, the very fact that it
could talk made conversation impossible.
Before long, Momo was overcome by a sensation so
82
entirely new to her that she took quite a while to recognize it as
plain boredom. Although her inclination was to abandon Lola, the Living
Doll, and play some other game, she couldn't for some reason tear herself
away. So there she sat, gazing at the doll, and the doll, with its glassy
blue eyes fixed on hers, gazed back. It was as if they had hypnotized each
other.
When, at long last, Momo did manage to drag her eyes away from the
doll, she gave a little start of surprise. Parked close by, not that she had
heard it drive up, stood a smart grey car. In it sat a man wearing a suit as
grey as a spider's web and a stiff, round bowler hat of the same colour. He
was smoking a small grey cigar, and his face, too, was as grey as ashes.
He must have been watching Momo for some time because he nodded and
smiled at her; and although the day was so hot that the air was dancing in
the sunlight, Momo suddenly began to shiver.
The man opened the car door and came over, carrying a steel-grey
briefcase.
'What a lovely doll you have there,' he said in a peculiarly flat and
expressionless voice. 'It must be the envy of all your playmates.'
Momo just shrugged and said nothing.
'I'll bet it cost a fortune,' the man in grey went on.
'I wouldn't know,' Momo mumbled, feeling rather embarrassed. 'I found
it lying around.'
'Well, I never!' said the man in grey. 'You are a lucky girl, and no
mistake!'
Momo remained silent and hugged her baggy jacket tightly to her. It was
growing colder and colder.
'All the same,' said the man in grey with a thin-lipped smile, 'you
don't seem too pleased.'
Momo shook her head. She suddenly felt as if happiness had fled the
world for ever - or rather, as if happiness had never existed and all her
ideas of it had been merely figments
83
ot her own imagination. At the same time, she had a presentiment of
danger.
'I've been watching you for quite a while,' pursued the man in grey.
'From what I've seen, you don't have the first idea how to play with such a
marvellous doll. Shall I show you?'
Momo stared at him in surprise and nodded. 'I'd like some nice new
things,' the doll squawked suddenly.
'You see?' said the man in grey. 'She's actually telling you herself.
You can't play with a marvellous doll like this the way you'd play with any
old doll, that's obvious. Anyway, it isn't what she's meant for. If you
don't want to get bored with her, you have to give her things. Look here!'
He went back to the car and opened the boot. 'In the first place,' he
said, 'she needs plenty of clothes - like this gorgeous evening gown, for
instance.'
He pulled out a gown and tossed it to Momo. 'And here's a genuine mink
coat, and a tennis dress, and a skiing outfit, and a swimsuit, and a riding
habit, and some pyjamas, and a nightie, and another dress, and another, and
another, and another . . .'
One by one, he tossed them over till they formed a huge heap on the
ground between Momo and the doll.
'There,' he said with another thin-lipped smile, 'that should keep you
happy for a while, shouldn't it? Or are you going to get bored again after a
couple of days? Very well, you'll just have to have some more nice things
for your doll.' And he reached inside the boot again. 'Here, for instance,
is a real little snakeskin purse with a real little lipstick and powder
compact inside. Here's a miniature camera, and a tennis racket, and a doll's
TV set that really works. Here's a bracelet, a necklace, some earrings, a
doll's gold-plated automatic, some silk stockings, a feather boa, a straw
hat, an Easter bonnet, some miniature golf clubs,
84
a little chequebook, perfume, bath salts, body lotion .. .' He broke
off and glanced keenly at Momo, who was sitting amid this clutter of toys
with a stunned expression on her face.
'You see,' he said, 'it's quite simple. As long as you go on getting
more and more things, you'll never grow bored. I know what you're going to
say: Sooner or later, Lola will have everything, and then I'll be bored
again. Well, there's no fear of that. Here we have the perfect boyfriend for
Lola.'
This time, when he reached into the boot, he produced a boy doll. It
was the same size as Lola and just as lifelike. 'Look,' he said, 'this is
Butch. He has any number of nice things, too, and when you get bored with
him we can supply a girlfriend for Lola with masses of outfits that won't
fit anyone but her. Butch has a friend, too, and his friend has friends of
his own, and so on ad infinitum. So you see, you need never get bored
because the game can go on for ever. There's always something left to wish
for.'
As he spoke, the man in grey took doll after doll from the boot, whose
contents seemed inexhaustible. Momo continued to sit there, watching him
rather apprehensively, while he arrayed them on the ground beside her.
'Well,' he said at length, expelling a dense cloud of smoke from his
cigar, 'now do you see how to play with dolls like these?'
'Yes,' said Momo, who was positively shaking with cold.
Satisfied, the man in grey nodded and took another pull at his cigar.
'You'd like to keep all these nice things, wouldn't you? Of course you
would. Very well, I'll make you a present of them. You can have them - not
all at once, of course, but one at a time -- and lots of other things as
well. You don't have to do anything in return, just play with them the way
I've shown you. What do you say?'
He fixed Momo with an expectant smile. Then, when she still said
nothing, just returned his gaze without smiling back, he went on quickly,
'You won't need your friends any more,
85
don't you see? You'll have quite enough to amuse you when all these
lovely things are yours and you keep on getting more, won't you? You'd like
that, wouldn't you? Surely you want this marvellous doll? I'll bet you've
already set your heart on it!'
Momo dimly sensed that she had a fight on her hands -indeed, that she
was already in the thick of the fray -- but she didn't know why she was
fighting or with whom. The longer she listened to this stranger, the more
she felt as she had felt with the doll: she could hear a voice speaking and
hear the words it uttered, but she couldn't tell who was actually saying
them. She shook her head.
'What!' exclaimed the man in grey, raising his eyebrows. 'You modem
children are never satisfied, honestly! Lola's perfect in every detail. If
there's anything wrong with her, perhaps you'd care to tell me.'
Momo stared at the ground and thought hard. Then she said, very
quietly, 'I don't think anyone could love it -- her, I mean.'
The man in grey didn't answer for some time. He stared into space with
eyes as glassy as the doll's. At last he pulled himself together. 'That's
not the point,' he said coldly.
Momo met his eye. What scared her most about him was the icy chill that
seemed to emanate from his body, yet in some strange way -- she couldn't
have said why - she felt sorry for him as well as scared.
'But I do love my friends,' she said.
The man in grey grimaced as if he'd bitten into a lemon, but he quickly
recovered his composure and gave her a razor-sharp smile. 'Momo,' he said
smoothly, 'I think we should have a serious talk, you and I. It's time you
learned what matters in life.' He produced a little grey notebook from his
pocket and leafed through it until he found what he was looking for. 'Your
name is Momo, isn't it?'
Momo nodded. The man in grey shut his notebook with a
86
snap and pocketed it again. Then, with a faint grunt of exertion, he
sat himself down on the ground at Momo's side. He said no more for a while,
just puffed thoughtfully at his small grey cigar.
'All right, Momo,' he said at last, 'listen carefully.' Momo had been
trying to do this all the time, but the man in grey was far harder to listen
to than anyone she'd ever heard. She could understand what other people
meant and what they were like by getting right inside them, so to speak, but
with him this was quite impossible. Whenever she tried to read his thoughts
she seemed to plunge headlong into a dark chasm, as if there were nothing
there at all. It had never happened to her before.
'All that matters in life,' the man in grey went on, 'is to climb the
ladder of success, amount to something, own things. When a person climbs
higher than the rest, amounts to more, owns more things, everything else
comes automatically:
friendship, love, respect, et cetera. You tell me you love your
friends. Let's examine that statement quite objectively.'
He blew a few smoke rings. Momo tucked her bare feet under her skirt
and burrowed still deeper into her oversize jacket.
'The first question to consider,' pursued the man in grey, 'is how much
your friends really gain from the fact of your existence. Are you any
practical use to them? No. Do you help them to get on in the world, make
more money, make something of their lives? No again. Do you assist them in
their efforts to save time? On the contrary, you distract them - you're a
millstone around their necks and an obstacle to their progress. You may not
realize it, Momo, but you harm your friends by simply being here. Without
meaning to be, you're really their enemy. Is that what you call love?'
Momo didn't know what to say. She'd never looked at things that way.
She even wondered, for one brief moment, whether the man in grey might not
be right after all.
87
'And that,' he went on, 'is why we want to protect your friends from
you. If you really love them, you'll help us. We have their interests at
heart, so we want them to succeed in life. We can't just look on idly while
you distract them from everything that matters. We want to make sure you
leave them alone - that's why we're giving you all these lovely things.'
Momo's lips had begun to tremble. 'Who's "we"?' she asked.
'The Timesaving Bank,' said the man in grey. 'I'm Agent No. BLW/553/c.
I wish you no harm, personally speaking, but the Timesaving Bank isn't an
organization to be trifled with.'
Just then, Momo recalled what Beppo and Guido had said about timesaving
being infectious, and she had an awful suspicion that this stranger had
something to do with the spread of the epidemic. She wished from the bottom
of her heart that her friends were with her now. She had never felt so
alone, but she was determined not to let fear get the better of her.
Summoning up all her courage, she plunged headlong into the dark chasm in
which the stranger concealed his true self.
He had been watching her out of the corner of his eye, so the change in
her expression did not escape him. He lit a fresh cigar from the butt of the
old one.
'Don't bother,' he said with a sarcastic smile. 'You're no match for
us.'
But Momo stood firm. 'Isn't there anyone who loves youY she whispered.
The man in grey squirmed a little. 'I must say,' he replied in his
greyest voice, 'I've never met anyone like you before, truly I haven't, and
I've met a lot of people in my time. If there were many more like you
around, we'd have nothing left to live on. We'd have to close down the
Timesaving Bank and dissolve into thin air.'
He broke off, staring at Momo as if she were something he could neither
understand nor cope with. His face turned a shade greyer. When next he
spoke, it was as if he were doing so against his will - as if the words were
pouring forth despite him. At the same time, his face became more and more
convulsed with horror at what was happening to him. At long last, Momo heard
his real voice, which seemed to come from infinitely far away.
'We have to remain unrecognized,' he blurted out. 'No one must know of
our existence or activities. We make sure no one ever remembers us, because
we can only carry on our business if we pass unnoticed. It's a wearisome
business, too, bleeding people of their time by the hour, minute and second.
All the time they save, they lose to us. We drain it off, we hoard it, we
thirst for it. Human beings have no conception of the value of their time,
but we do. We suck them dry, and we need more and more time every day,
because there are more and more of us. More and more and more ...'
The last few words were uttered in a sort of death rattle. The man in
grey clapped his hands over his mouth and stared at Momo with his eyes
bulging. Little by little, he seemed to emerge from a kind of trance.
'W-what happened?' he stammered. 'You've been spying on me! I'm ill,
and it's all your fault!' His tone became almost imploring. 'I've been
talking nonsense, Momo. Forget it -forget me like everyone else. You must,
you mustV
He grabbed hold of Momo and shook her. Her lips moved, but she couldn't
get a word out.
The man in grey jumped to his feet. He peered in all directions like a
cornered beast, then snatched up his briefcase and sprinted to the car. The
next moment, something very strange happened. Like an explosion in reverse,
all the dolls and their scattered belongings flew back into the boot, which
slammed shut. The car roared off at such speed that grit and pebbles spurted
from its wheels.
89
Momo sat there for a long time, trying to make sense of what she had
heard. As the dreadful chill seeped slowly from her limbs, so her thoughts
became steadily clearer. Now that she had heard the real voice of the man in
grey, she could remember everything.
From the sun-baked grass in front of her rose a slender thread of
smoke. The trampled butt of a small grey cigar was smouldering away to
ashes.
EIGHT
The Demonstration
Late that afternoon, Guido and Beppo turned up. They found Momo sitting
in the shade of a wall, still rather pale and upset, so they sat down beside
her and anxiously inquired what the matter was. Momo began to tell them what
had happened, haltingly at first, but she ended by repeating her entire
conversation with the man in grey, word for word.
Old Beppo watched her gravely and intently throughout, the furrows in
his wrinkled brow growing deeper by the minute. He said nothing, even when
she had finished.
Guido, by contrast, listened to her with mounting excitement. His eyes
began to shine as they so often did when he himself was telling a story and
got carried away. He gripped Momo by the shoulder.
'Well,' he said, 'this is our big moment. You've discovered something
no one else knew. Now we can rescue everyone from their clutches - not just
our friends but the whole city! It's up to the three of us - you, me and
Beppo!'
He jumped up and stood there with his arms outflung. In his mind's eye
he could see a vast crowd of people hailing him as their saviour.
'Yes,' said Momo, looking rather baffled, 'but how?'
'What do you mean, "how"?' Guido demanded irritably.
'I mean,' said Momo, 'how do we beat the men in grey at their own
game?'
Guido shrugged. 'I can't say exactly, of course, not right this minute.
We'll have to work something out first, but one
91
thing's for sure: now we know they exist and what they're up to, we
must tackle them - or are you scared?'
Momo nodded uneasily. 'I don't think they're ordinary men. The one that
was here looked different, somehow, and the air around him was dreadfully
cold. If there are a lot of them, they're bound to be dangerous. Yes, I'm
scared all right.'
'Don't be silly,' Guido said briskly. 'The whole thing's quite simple.
They can only do their dirty work as long as nobody recognizes them - your
visitor said so himself. Well, then! All we have to do is make sure they're
recognizable. Once people recognize them they'll remember them, and once
they remember them they'll know them again at a glance. The men in grey
won't be able to harm us then - we'll be safe as houses.'
'You really think so?' Momo said, rather doubtfully.
Guide's eyes were alight with confidence. 'Of course,' he assured her.
'Why else would your visitor have taken to his heels like that? They're
terrified of us, 1 tell you.'
'What if we can't find them?' Momo asked. 'They may go and hide.'
'They may well,' Guido conceded. 'If they do, we'll simply have to lure
them out into the open.'
'But how?' asked Momo. 'They're pretty clever, it seems to me.'
'That's easy,' Guido said with a chuckle. 'We'll take advantage of
their own greed. If you can catch mice with cheese, you can catch
time-thieves with time - and that we've got plenty of. For instance, Beppo
and I could lie in wait while you sat here twiddling your thumbs. When they
took the bait, we'd jump out and overpower them.'
'But they know me already,' Momo objected. 'I don't think they'd fall
for it.'
'All right,' said Guido, who was brimming over with bright ideas, 'then
we'll try something else. Your man in grey
92
mentioned something about a Timesaving Bank. That means it's a building
somewhere in town. All we have to do is find it, and find it we will,
because it's bound to be a very special-looking place. I can see it now -
grey, sinister and windowless, like a gigantic concrete safe. Once we find
it, we'll walk straight in. We'll all be armed with pistols, one in each
hand. "You!" I'll say "Hand over the time you've stolen, and make it
snappy!" And they'll -'
'But we don't have any pistols,' Momo broke in, anxiously.
Guido grandly dismissed this objection. 'Then we'll do it unarmed.
That'll impress them even more. They'll panic at the very sight of us.'
'It might be better if there were a few more of us,' Momo said. 'I
mean, we'd probably find the Timesaving Bank quicker if other people went
looking for it too.'
'Good idea,' said Guido. 'We must mobilize all our friends - and all
the kids who spend so much time here nowadays. I vote we get started right
away, the three of us. Tell as many people as you can find, and tell them to
pass the word. We'll all meet up here at three tomorrow afternoon, for a
grand council of war.'
So they all set off at once, Momo in one direction, Beppo and Guido in
another.
The two men had gone some distance when Beppo, who still hadn't spoken,
came to a sudden stop. 'Know something, Guido?' he said. 'I'm worried.'
Guido turned to look at him. 'About what?' Beppo regarded his friend in
silence for a moment. Then he said, 'I believe Momo.'
'So do I,' said Guido, puzzled. 'What of it?' 'I mean,' Beppo went on,
'I believe that what she told us is true.'
Guido couldn't understand what the old man was getting at. 'Of course,'
he said. 'So what?'
93
'Well,' said Beppo, 'if it's true what she told us, we shouldn't rush
into anything. We don't want to tangle with a bunch of crooks just like
that, do we? If we provoke them, it may land Momo in trouble. I don't mind
so much about us, but we may endanger the children if we bring them into it
too. We must think very carefully before we act.'
Guido threw back his head and laughed. 'You and your eternal worrying!'
he scoffed. 'The more of us there are, the better. That's obvious.'
'From the sound of it,' Beppo said gravely, 'you don'l believe that
Memo's story was true at all.'
'Depends what you mean by "true",' Guido retorted. 'You've no
imagination, that's your trouble. The whole world's one big story and we're
all part of it. Sure I believe what Momo told us, Beppo - every word of it,
just like you.'
Beppo could find no suitable response to this, but Guide's optimism did
nothing to allay his fears.
Then they parted company, Guido with a light heart, Beppo filled with
foreboding, and went off to spread the news of tomorrow's meeting.
That night Guido dreamed he was being feted as one of the city's
saviours. He saw himself in a dress suit, Beppo in a smart tailcoat and Momo
in a snow-white silk gown. The mayor draped gold chains around their necks
and crowned them with laurel wreaths. Stirring music rang out, and the
citizens honoured their deliverers with a torchlight procession longer and
more impressive than any that had ever been seen before.
Meanwhile, old Beppo was tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The more
he thought about what lay ahead, the more clearly he perceived its dangers.
He wouldn't let Guido and Momo brave them alone. He would stand by them
whatever happened - that went without saying - but he must at least attempt
to dissuade them.
94
By three the next afternoon, the amphitheatre resounded to excited
cries and the hum of many voices. Although it saddened Momo that none of her
grown-up friends had appeared - except, of course, for Beppo and Guido -
some fifty or sixty children had come from near and far. They were all
shapes and sizes, rich and poor, well-behaved and rowdy. Some, like Maria,
were holding younger members of the family by the hand or in their arms -
tiny little children who sucked their thumbs and gazed wide-eyed at this
unusual gathering.
Franco, Paolo and Massimo were there too, naturally, but most of the
other children were relative newcomers to the amphitheatre, and they had a
special interest in the subject under discussion. Among them was the owner
of the transistor radio, who had turned up without it. Seating himself next
to Momo, he told her straight away that his name was Claudio, and that he
was glad to have been invited.
When it became clear that the last of the children had arrived, Guido
rose to his feet and, with a sweeping gesture, called for silence. The buzz
of conversation died away, and an expectant hush descended on the
amphitheatre.
'My friends,' Guido began, 'you all have a rough idea why we're here -
you were told when you received your invitations to this secret meeting.
More and more people are finding themselves with less and less time to
spare, even though they're saving it for all they're worth. The truth is,
they've lost the very time they meant to save. Why? We now know, thanks to
Momo. People are being robbed of their time - and I mean robbed - by a gang
of time-thieves! That's why we need your help: so as to put a stop to the
activities of this cold-blooded, criminal fraternity. Our city is in the
grip of a nightmare. With your cooperation, we can banish it at a stroke.
Isn't that a cause worth fighting for?' He paused while the children
applauded. 'We'll discuss what to do in due course,' he went on 'Meantime,
Momo is going to describe her encounter
95
with a member of the gang and how he gave himself away.'
'One moment,' said Beppo, getting up. 'Listen, children! I say Momo
shouldn't tell you her story. It's a bad idea. If she does, she'll endanger
herself and all of you.'
'No,' cried several voices, 'let her speak! We want Momo!' More and
more voices joined in until all the children were chanting 'Momo, Momo,
Momo!' in unison.
Old Beppo sat down again. He took off his little steel-rimmed
spectacles and wearily rubbed his eyes.
Momo stood up, looking perplexed. She didn't know whose wishes to
comply with, Beppo's or the children's. At length, while her audience
listened attentively, she recounted what had happened.
A long silence fell when she finished. The children had grown rather
uneasy during her recital. They hadn't imagined that time-thieves could be
so sinister. One tiny tot burst into tears but was quickly comforted.
The silence was broken by Guido. 'Well,' he said, 'how many of you have
the guts to join our campaign against the men in grey?'
'Why didn't Beppo want Momo to tell us what happened?' Franco inquired.
Guido gave him a reassuring smile. 'He thinks the time-thieves feel
threatened by those who know their secret, so they try to hunt them down.
Myself, I think it's the other way around. I'm convinced that knowing their
secret makes a person invulnerable: once you know it they can't lay a finger
on you. That's logical, wouldn't you say? Come on, Beppo, admit it!'
But Beppo only shook his head, and the children remained silent.
'One thing's certain, anyway,' Guido pursued. 'From now on we must
stick together come hell or high water. We've got to be careful, but we
mustn't get scared. All right, I'll ask you again. Who's prepared to join
us?'
96
'I am!' said Claudio, getting to his feet. He looked a trifle pale.
Others followed suit, hesitantly at first, then more and more
resolutely, until everyone present had volunteered.
'Well, Beppo,' said Guido, pointing to the forest of raised hands,
'what do you say now?'
Beppo nodded sadly. 'I'm with you too, of course.' 'Good.' Guido turned
back to the children. 'So now let's decide what to do. Any suggestions?'
They all thought hard. Paolo, the boy with glasses, finally said, 'But
how do they do it? I mean, can they really steal time?'
'Yes,' Claudio chimed in. 'What "s time, anyway?' No one could supply
an answer.
Maria, with little Rosa in her arms, got up from her seat on the far
side of the arena. 'Maybe it's like electricity,' she hazarded. 'After all,
there are machines that can record people's thought waves - I've seen one
myself, on TV. They've got gadgets that can do anything these days.'
'How about this for an idea!' squeaked Massimo, the fat boy with the
high-pitched voice. 'When you photograph something, it's down on film. When
you record something, it's down on tape. Maybe they've got a machine that
can record time. If we knew where it was, we could simply put it into
reverse and the missing time would be there again!'
'Anyway,' said Paolo, adjusting his glasses, 'the first thing to do is
find a scientist to help us. We won't get anywhere without one.'
'You and your scientists!' sneered Franco. 'Who says they can be
trusted? Suppose we found one who was an expert on time. How could we be
sure he wasn't in league with the time-thieves? Then we'd really be up the
creek!' Everyone seemed impressed by this objection. The next person to
speak up was a little girl of demure and ladylike appearance. 'If you ask
me,' she said, 'our best plan
97
would be to go to the police and tell them the whole story.'
'Now I've heard everything!' Franco scoffed. 'What could the cops do?
These aren't just ordinary thieves. Either the cops have known about them
all along, in which case they must be powerless, or they haven't noticed a
thing, in which case they'd never believe us.' A baffled silence ensued.
'Well,' Paolo said eventually, 'we've got to do something -as soon as
possible, too, before the time-thieves get wind of what we're up to.'
Guido rose to his feet again.
'My friends,' he said, 'I've already given this matter a lot of
thought. After dreaming up hundreds of schemes and rejecting them all in
turn, I finally hit on one that's guaranteed to do the trick - as long as
you all cooperate. I merely wanted to see if one of you could come up with a
better idea. Well, now I'll tell you what we're going to do.'
He paused and looked slowly around the amphitheatre. He was ringed by
fifty or sixty expectant faces, the biggest audience he'd had in a long
time.
'As you're now aware,' he went on, 'the men in grey depend for their
power on being able to work unrecognized and in secret. It follows that the
simplest and most effective way of rendering them harmless is to broadcast
the truth about them. And how are we to do that? I'll tell you. We're going
to hold a mass demonstration! We're going to paint posters and banners and
march through the streets with them. We're going to attract as much
attention as possible. We're going to invite the whole city to join us here,
at the old amphitheatre, to hear the full facts.'
A stir ran through the listening children. 'Everyone will go wild with
excitement,' Guido continued. 'Thousands and thousands of people will come
flocking in. Then, when a vast crowd has assembled, we'll reveal the whole
terrible truth. And then, my friends, the world will
98
change overnight. No one will be able to steal people's time any more.
They'll all have as much as they need, because there'll be enough to go
around again. That's what we can achieve if we all work together - if we're
all in favour. Are we?'
This drew a chorus of exultant yells.
'Carried unanimously,' said Guido. 'In that case, we'll invite the
whole city here next Sunday afternoon. Till then, though, we mustn't breathe
a word of our plan. And now, let's get to work.'
For the next few days, the amphitheatre hummed with furtive but
feverish activity. Sheers of paper, pots of paint, brushes, paste,
cardboard, poles, planks and a host of other essentials appeared like magic
- where from, the children preferred not to say. Some of them made banners
and posters and placards, while others - the ones that were good at writing
- thought up catchy slogans and painted them in their neatest lettering.
Below are a few examples:
SAVE TIME? WHO FOR?
NO TIME LEFT? WHERES IT GONE? IF YOU
REALLY WANT TO KNOW PLEESE COME TO THE
OLD AMFITHEATRE NEXT SUNDAY AT 6
SUNDAY AT SIX
IMPORTANT! YOUR TIME IS AT STEAK
WHERE ITS GONE IS A BIG SECRET
BUT WE'LL LET YOU IN ON IT!
COME AMPFITH SUNDAY NEXT
DONT YOU HAVE A FUNNY PEELING SOMEBODY YOUR TIME IS STEELING?
99
At last, when all was ready, the children assembled in the amphitheatre
and set off in single file with Guido, Beppo and Momo at their head. They
marched through the streets brandishing posters and banners, clattering
saucepan lids, blowing penny whistles chanting slogans and singing a song
composed specially for the occasion by Guido. The words went as follows:
Listen, folk, ere it's too late, or you'll live to rue your fate. Time
is flying every day, stolen by the men in grey.
Listen, folk, and heed our warning, or you'll wake up one fine morning
robbed of time and quite bereft, not a single minute left.
Don't save time, then, save your city, for those time-thieves have no
pity. Fight back hard, and do it soon. Be there Sunday afternoon!
Actually, there were more verses than that - twenty-eight, to be exact
- but we needn't quote them all here.
Although the police stepped in a few times and broke up the procession
when it obstructed the traffic, the children were undeterred. They simply
formed up elsewhere and set off again. Nothing happened apart from this, and
they didn't sight a single man in grey for all their vigilance.
They were, however, joined by other children who saw the demonstration
and hadn't known of the affair till now. More
100
and more youngsters tagged along until the streets were filled with
hundreds or even thousands of them, all urging their elders to attend the
meeting that was to change the world.
NINE
The Trial
The great moment had come and gone.
It was over, and not a single grown-up had appeared. The children's
demonstration had passed almost unnoticed by the very people it was aimed
at. All their efforts had been in vain.
The big red sun was already sinking into a sea of purple cloud, so low
in the sky that its rays lit only the topmost tier of steps in the
amphitheatre, where so many hundreds of children had been waiting for so
long. No cheerful hum of voices broke the sad and disconsolate silence.
The shadows were lengthening fast. It would soon be dark, and the
children began to shiver in the chill evening air. Somewhere in the distance
a church clock struck eight. Doubt gave way to certainty: the whole scheme
had been a complete fiasco.
One or two children got up and drifted off. Others followed suit. None
of them said a word - their disappointment was too great.
Eventually, Paolo came over to Momo and said, 'It's no use waiting any
longer - no one'll turn up now. Good night.' And he walked off too.
Franco was the next to leave. 'It's hopeless,' he said. 'We can't count
on the grown-ups, we know that now. I never did trust them anyway. As far as
I'm concerned, they can stew in their own juice from now on.'
More and more children left. It was dark by the time the last of them
gave up and went home, leaving Momo alone with Guido and Beppo.
102
The old roadsweeper stood up. 'Are you going, too?' Momo asked. 'I've
got to,' Beppo told her with a sigh. 'I'm on night duty.' 'Night duty?'
'Yes, unloading garbage at the municipal dump. I'm due there in half an
hour.'
'But it's Sunday. Besides, you've never had to do that before.'
'No, but we've been told to report there. They say it's only temporary.
There's too much garbage to handle, apparently. Shortage of staff, and so
on.'
'What a shame,' said Momo. 'I'd have liked you to stay a while.'
'Yes, I don't want to go myself, but there it is -- I've got to.' And
Beppo mounted his squeaky old bicycle and pedalled off into the darkness.
Guido was whistling a soft and melancholy tune. He could whistle very
sweetly, and Momo was listening with pleasure when he suddenly broke off.
'Heavens,' he exclaimed, 'I must go, too. Today's when I start my new
job - night watchman, didn't I tell you? I'd forgotten the time.'
Momo just stared at him and said nothing. 'So our plan didn't work
out,' he went on. 'Never mind, Momo. It didn't work out the way I hoped,
either, but it was fun all the same - tremendous fun.'
When Momo still said nothing, he stroked her hair sooth-ingly and
added, 'Don't take it so hard, Momo. Everything'll look quite different in
the morning. We'll just have to come up with a new idea -- a new game, eh?'
'It wasn't a game,' Momo said in a muffled voice. Guido stood up.
'Look, I know how you feel, but we'll talk about it tomorrow, okay? I have
to go now - I'm late enough as it is. Anyway, it's time you went to bed.'
And he walked off whistling his melancholy tune.
103
So Momo remained sitting forlornly in the great stone bowl of the
amphitheatre. Clouds had veiled the sky and blotted out the stars. A
peculiar breeze had sprung up, light but persistent and singularly cold. If
breezes can be said to have a colour, this one was grey.
Far away beyond the outskirts of the city loomed the massive municipal
garbage dump. It was a veritable mountain of ash, cinders, broken glass and
china, tin cans, plastic containers, old mattresses, cardboard canons and
countless other objects discarded by the city's inhabitants, all waiting to
be fed, bit by bit, into huge incinerators.
Beppo and his workmates toiled for hours, shovelling garbage out of a
long line of trucks. The trucks crept forward, headlights blazing, but the
more they emptied the longer the line became.
'Faster!' t