nervously
massaging his brow. 'He asked them to look for you -made a proper nuisance
of himself, apparently. Next thing we knew, they'd put him in a sort of
mental hospital. That's all 1 can tell you.'
'Hell and damnation!' someone else bellowed. 'Is this a fastfood joint
or a dentist's waiting room? What are you doing, holding a family reunion?'
'Yes, kind of,' Nino said, apologetically.
'Is he still there?' asked Momo.
Nino shook his head. 'I don't think so. I'm told they pronounced him
harmless and let him go.'
'So where is he now?'
'I've no idea, Momo, honestly I haven't. Now please be a good girl and
move on.'
Again Momo was jostled past the cash desk by the people
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behind her, and again she waited for a place at one of the toadstool
tables. She polished off her second trayful of food with a good deal less
gusto than the first, but food was food, and she wouldn't have dreamed of
leaving any. Х She still had to find out what had become of the children who
used to keep her company. There was nothing for it but to stand in line once
more, shuffle past the glass cases and load her tray with food rather than
invite hostile remarks. It seemed an eternity before she reached the cash
desk again.
'What about the children?' she demanded. 'What's become of them?'
'Oh, that's all changed,' said Nino, breaking out in a sweat at her
reappearance. 'I can't explain right now - you can see how rushed I am.'
'But why don't they come any more?' she insisted.
'Nowadays, kids with n9 one to look after them are put in child depots.
They aren't allowed to be left to themselves any more because - well, the
long and the short of it is, they're taken care of.'
'Hurry it up, you slow coaches!' came an indignant chorus. 'We'd like
to eat sometime!'
Momo was looking incredulous. 'Child depots,' she repeated. 'Is that
what my friends really wanted?'
'They weren't consulted,' said Nino, fiddling with the keys of his cash
register. 'It's not up to kids to decide these things for themselves. Child
depots keep them off the streets - that's the main thing, isn't it?'
Momo said nothing, just looked at him, and Nino squirmed under her
searching gaze.
'Damn it all!' shouted yet another angry voice in the background. 'This
is the limit! If you must hold a prayer meeting, hold it somewhere else!'
'What am I going to do now,' Momo asked in a small voice, 'without my
friends?'
Nino shrugged and kneaded his hands together. 'Be
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reasonable, Momo,' he said, drawing a deep breath. 'Come back some
other time. I really can't discuss your problems now. You're welcome to eat
here any time you like, you know that, but if 1 were you I'd report to one
of these child depots. They'd look after you and keep you occupied -they'd
even give you a proper education. Besides, you'll end up in one anyway, if
you go on wandering around on your own like this.'
Momo said nothing, just gazed at him as before. When the crowd swept
her along she mechanically went to one of the tables and just as
mechanically forced herself to eat a third lunch, though it was all she
could do to get it down. It tasted so much like cardboard and wood shavings,
she felt sick.
Then, tucking Cassiopeia under her arm, she walked silently to the door
without a backward glance.
'Hey, Momo!' called Nino, who had spotted her at the last moment. 'Wait
a bit! You never told me where you've been all this time!'
But the next customer was already drumming his fingers on the cash
register. Nino rang up the total, took the man's money and gave him some
change. The smile had long since left his face.
'I've had masses to eat,' Momo told Cassiopeia when they were back at
the amphitheatre. 'Far too much, to tell the truth, but somehow I still feel
empty inside.' After a while she added, 'Anyway, I couldn't have told Nino
about the flowers and the music -- there wasn't time, and I don't think he'd
have understood.' There was another pause before she went on, 'Never mind,
tomorrow we'll go and look for Guido. You're sure to like him, Cassiopeia,
believe me.'
But all that lit up on Cassiopeia's shell was a great big question
mark.
FIFTEEN
Found and Lost
Momo got up early the next morning and set off in search of Guide's
house. Cassiopeia came too, of'course.
Momo knew where Green Hill was. A residential suburb several miles from
the amphitheatre, it lay on the other side of the city, near the housing
development's identical rows of identical flats.
Green Hill was a long walk. Although Momo was used to going without
shoes, her bare feet were aching by the time she got there, so she sat down
on the kerb to rest a while.
It really was a very smart neighbourhood. The streets were broad and
clean and deserted. In gardens enclosed by high walls and iron railings,
fine old trees reared their branches to the sky. Most of the houses set in
these gardens were long, low, flat-roofed villas built of concrete and
glass. The smooth expanses of lawn in front of them were lush and green -
they positively cried out for children to turn somersaults on them - but not
a soul could be seen strolling or playing anywhere. Presumably the owners
didn't have time.
Momo turned to Cassiopeia. 'If only I knew how to find out where Guido
lives,' she sighed.
'YOU WILL,' the tortoise signalled.
'You really think so?' Momo said hopefully.
'Hey, you grubby little brat,' someone said behind her, 'what are you
doing here?'
Momo turned to see a man in a spotless white jacket. She didn't know
that such jackets were worn by the servants of the
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rich. 'Good morning,' she said, getting up off the kerb, 'I'm looking
for Guide's house. Nino told me he lives here now.'
'Whose house?'
'Guide's. He's a friend of mine, you see.'
The man in the white jacket glared at her suspiciously. He had left the
garden gate ajar, and Momo could see inside. Some dogs were frisking around
on a big stretch of lawn and a fountain was playing in front of the house.
Overhead, in a blossom-covered tree, perched a pair of peacocks.
'Oh,' Momo exclaimed, 'what pretty birds!' She started to go inside for
a closer look, but the man in the white jacket grabbed her by the scruff of
the neck.
'No, you don't!' he said. 'Some nerve you've got, I must say.' Then he
let go of her and wiped his fingers on his handkerchief, looking as if he'd
just touched something unpleasant.
Momo pointed through the gate. 'Does all that belong to you?' she
inquired.
'No,' snapped the man in the white jacket, sounding more unfriendly
than ever. 'And now, clear off. You've no business here.'
'Oh, yes I have,' Momo said firmly. 'I've got to find Guido Guide. He's
expecting me. Don't you know him?'
'There aren't any guides around here,' the man retorted, and turned on
his heel. He had gone back into the garden and was about to slam the gate
when a thought seemed to strike him.
'You don't mean Girolamo, the TV star?'
'That's right,' Momo said eagerly. 'Guido Guide - that's his real name.
Can you tell me which his house is?'
'Is he really expecting you?' the man demanded.
'Yes, truly he is,' said Momo. 'He's a friend of mine - he pays for
everything I eat at Nino's.'
The man in the white jacket raised his eyebrows and shook his head.
'These showbiz people,' he said acidly. 'They
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certainly get some crazy notions sometimes. All right, if you really
think he'll welcome a visit from you, his house is right at the end of the
street.'
So saying, he slammed the gate behind him. Х The word 'SHOWOFF'
appeared on Cassiopeia's shell, but only for a moment.
The last house in the street was surrounded by a high wall and the gate
was made of sheet metal like all the rest, so it was impossible to see
inside. There wasn't a nameplate or a doorbell anywhere in sight.
'Can this really be Guide's new house[5]' said Momo. 'It
doesn't look at all the kind of place he'd choose.'
'IT IS,' Cassiopeia signalled.
'But why is it all shut up?' Momo asked. 'I'll never get in.'
'WAIT,' was Cassiopeia's advice.
Momo sighed. 'I may have to wait a long time. Even if Guide's home, how
will he know I'm here?'
The tortoise's shell lit up again. 'HE'LL COME,' it said.
So Momo sat down, right outside the gate, and waited patiently. Nothing
happened for such a long time that she began to wonder if Cassiopeia had
made a mistake for once.
'Are you absolutely positive?' she asked after a while.
Cassiopeia's reply was quite unexpected. Her shell said simply,
'GOODBYE.'
Momo gave a start. 'What do you mean, Cassiopeia? You aren't leaving
me, are you? Where are you going?'
TO LOOK FOR YOU,' was Cassiopeia's still more cryptic response.
At that moment the gate swung open without warning and out shot a long,
low, elegant car. Momo, who jumped back only just in time, fell head over
heels. The car sped on for several yards, then screeched to a halt. An
instant later, Guido jumped out.
'Momo!' he cried, flinging his arms wide. 'If it isn't my own, beloved
little Momo!'
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Momo scrambled to her feet and ran to him, and Guido snatched her up in
his arms and covered her cheeks with kisses and danced around in the road
with her.
'Did you hurt yourself?' he asked breathlessly, but instead of waiting
for a reply he went on talking nineteen to the dozen. 'Sorry I gave you a
fright, but I'm in a tearing hurry. Late again, as usual. Where have you
been all this time? You must tell me the whole story. I'd given you up for
lost, you know. Did you get my letter? Yes? So it was still there, eh? Fine,
so you went and had a meal at Nine's, did you? Did you enjoy it? Oh, Momo,
we've such a lot to tell each other -so much has happened in the last few
months. How are you, anyway? What's the matter, lost your tongue? And what
about old Beppo - what's he up to these days? I haven't seen him in a month
of Sundays. And the children - what about them? Oh, Momo, I can't tell you
how often I think of the times we spent together, when I used to tell you
stories. Good times, they were, but everything's different now -- you can't
imagine how different.'
Momo had made several attempts to answer his questions, but since his
torrent of words never dried up she simply watched and waited. Guido looked
different from the old days. He was well-groomed and he smelled nice, but
there was something curiously unfamiliar about him.
Meanwhile, some people had emerged from the limousine and walked over
to them: a man in a chauffeur's uniform and three hard-faced, heavily
made-up young women.
'Is the child hurt?' asked one, sounding less anxious than
disapproving.
'No, no, not a bit,' Guido assured her. 'We gave her a fright, that's
all.'
'Serves her right for loitering outside the gate,' said the second
young woman.
Guido laughed. 'But this is Momo - my old friend Momo!'
The third young woman raised her eyebrows. 'So she really
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exists, does she? I always thought she was a figment of your
imagination. We must issue a press release at once. "Giro-lamo Reunited with
his Fairy Princess" - something along those lines. I'll get on to it at
once. What a story! The public will lap it up.'
'No,' said Guido, 'I'd rather not.'
'What do you say, Momo?' asked the first young woman, fixing Momo with
an artificial smile. 'Surely you'd like to see your picture in the paper,
wouldn't you?' . 'Leave her alone!' snapped Guido.
The second young woman glanced at her wristwatch. 'We're going to miss
our flight if we don't get a move on, and you know what that would mean.'
'God Almighty,' Guido protested, 'can't 1 even have a quiet chat with a
long-lost friend?' He turned to Momo with a rueful grin. 'You see? They
never give me a moment's peace, these slave-drivers of mine - never.'
'Suit yourself, but we're only doing our job,' the second young woman
said tartly. 'That's what you pay us for, lord and master, to arrange your
schedule and see that you stick to it.'
Guido gave in. 'Okay, okay, we'd better get going. Tell you what, Momo,
why not come to the airport with us? We can talk on the way, and afterwards
my chauffeur will drive you home, all right?'
Without even waiting for an answer, he seized Momo's hand and towed her
to the car. The three secretaries got in behind while Guido sat up front
with Momo wedged in beside him.
'Right, he said, 'I'm listening, but first things first. How come you
disappeared like that?'
Momo was on the point of telling him about Professor Нога and the
hour-lilies when one of the secretaries leaned forward. 'Sorry to butt in,'
she said, 'but I've just had the most fabulous idea. We've simply got to
introduce Momo to the
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top brass at Fantasy Films. She'd be perfect for the title role in your
next film - the one about the girl who becomes a vagrant. Think what a
sensation it would make: "Momo, starring Momo"!'
'Didn't you hear what I said?' snapped Guido. 'I don't want her dragged
into anything of the kind, is that clear?'
The young woman bridled. 'I just don't get it,' she said. 'Most people
would jump at such a heaven-sent opportunity.'
'Well, I'm not most people!' Guido shouted in a sudden fury. He turned
to Momo. 'Forgive me, you may not understand this, but I don't want these
vultures sinking their talons into you as well as me.'
At that, all three secretaries sniffed and looked offended.
Guido groaned aloud and clutched his head. Producing a small silver
pillbox from his pocket, he took out a capsule and gulped it down.
Nobody spoke for a minute or two.
At length Guido turned to the trio behind him. 'I apologize,' he
mumbled wearily, 'I wasn't referring to you. My nerves are on edge, that's
all.'
'We know,' said the first young woman, 'we're getting used to it.'
'And now,' Guido went on, smiling down at Momo rather wryly, 'let's not
talk about anything except the two of us.'
'One more question before it's too late,' the second young woman broke
in. 'We'll be there any minute. Couldn't you at least let me do a quick
interview with the kid?'
'That's enough!' roared Guido, beside himself with rage. 'I want a word
with Momo in private -- it means a lot to me. How many more times do I have
to tell you?',
The second young woman was just as irate. 'You're always complaining
because the publicity I get you doesn't pack a big enough punch.'
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"You re right,' Guido groaned, 'but not now. Not now\'
'It's too bad,' the second young woman pursued. 'A human-interest story
like this would be a real tear-jerker, but have it your way. Maybe we can
run it later on, when -'
'No!' Guido cut in. 'Neither now nor later - not ever! Now kindly shut
up while Momo and I have a talk.'
'Well, pardon me\' the second young woman retorted angrily. 'It's your
publicity we're discussing, not mine. Think carefully: can you really afford
to pass up such an opportunity at this stage in your career?'
'No, I can't,' Guido cried in desperation, 'but Momo stays out of it!
And now, for pity's sake, leave us in peace for five minutes.'
The secretaries relapsed into silence. Limply, Guido drew a hand across
his eyes.
'You see how far gone I am?' He patted Memo's arm and gave a wry little
laugh. 'I couldn't go back now, even if I wanted to - I'm beyond redemption.
"Guide's still Guido!" -remember? Well, Guido isn't Guido any more. Believe
me, Momo, there's nothing more dangerous in life than dreams that come true,
at least when they come true like mine. I've nothing left to dream about,
and not even you could teach me to dream again. I'm fed up to the teeth with
everything and everyone.'
He stared morosely out of the window.
'The most I could do now would be to stop telling stories and keep mum,
if not for the rest of my life, at least until people had forgotten all
about me and I was poor and unknown again. But poverty without dreams? No,
Momo, that would be sheer hell. I'd sooner stay where I am. That's another
kind of hell, but at least it's a comfortable one.' Guido broke off. 'I
don't know why I'm rambling on like this. You can't have understood a word.'
Momo just looked at him. What she understood, first
185
and foremost, was that Guido was ill - gravely ill. She suspected that
the men in grey were at the bottom of it, but she had no idea how to cure
him if he didn't want to be cured.
'I've done nothing but talk about myself,' he said. 'It's high time you
told me about your own doings.'
Just then the car drew up outside the airport terminal. They all got
out and hurried into the foyer, where a pair of uniformed stewardesses were
already waiting for Guido. Some newspaper reporters took pictures of him and
asked questions, but the stewardesses started fussing because there were
only a few minutes left before take-off time.
Guido bent down and gazed into Memo's eyes, and suddenly his own eyes
filled with tears.
'Listen,' he said, lowering his voice so the others couldn't hear.
'Stay with me, Momo. I'll take you along on this trip - I'll take you
wherever I go. You can live in that fine new house of mine and dress in silk
and satin like a real princess. Just be there and listen to me, that's all I
ask. If you did, perhaps I'd manage to think up some proper stories like the
ones I used to tell, know what 1 mean? Just say yes, Momo, and everything
will be all right again. Help me, I beg you!'
Momo's heart bled for Guido. She longed so much to help him, but she
sensed that he was wrong. He would have to become Guido again, and it
wouldn't help him at all if she stopped being Momo. Her eyes, too, filled
with tears, and she shook her head.
Guido understood. He just had time to nod sadly before he was hustled
off by the three secretaries he employed to do just that. He gave one last
wave in the distance, and Momo waved back. Then he was hidden from view.
Momo could have told him so many things, but she hadn't managed to say
a word throughout their brief reunion. She
186
felt as if, by finding him again, she had really and truly lost him at
last.
Slowly, she turned and made her way across the crowded foyer. Just as
she reached the exit, she was smitten by a sudden thought: she had lost
Cassiopeia as well!
SIXTEEN
Loneliness
'Where to?' asked the chauffeur when Momo got in beside him.
She looked perplexed. Where did she want to go? She had to look for
Cassiopeia, but where? Where had she lost her? The tortoise hadn't been with
them on the drive to the airport, that much she knew for sure, so the
likeliest place would be outside Guide's house. Then she remembered the
words on Cassiopeia's shell: 'GOODBYE' and 'TO LOOK FOR YOU'. Of course!
Cassiopeia had known beforehand that they would lose each other, so she'd
gone looking for her. But where should she, Momo, go looking for Cassiopeia?
'Make up your mind,' said the chauffeur, beating an impatient tattoo on
the steering wheel. 'I've got better things to do with my time than take you
joy-riding.'
'Back to Guide's house, please,' Momo replied.
The chauffeur looked faintly surprised. 'I thought the boss said to
drive you home. You mean you're coming to live at his place?'
'No,' said Momo, 'but I lost something in the road outside, and I've
got to find it.'
That suited the chauffeur, who had to go back there anyway. As soon as
they reached Guide's gate, Momo got out and started peering in all
directions.
'Cassiopeia!' she called softly, again and again. 'Cassiopeia!'
The chauffeur stuck his head out of the window. 'What are you looking
for?'
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'Professor Hora's tortoise,' Momo told him. 'Her name is Cassiopeia,
and she always knows what's going to happen half an hour in advance. She can
make words light up on her shell, too - that's how she tells you what the
future holds in store. I've simply got to find her. Would you help me to
look for her, please?'
'I've no time for jokes,' snarled the chauffeur, and drove on. The
remote-controlled gate opened and closed behind him.
Undaunted, Momo continued the search on'her own. She combed the entire
street, but Cassiopeia was nowhere to be seen.
'Perhaps she's on her way back to the amphitheatre,' thought Momo, so
she slowly retraced her steps, calling the tortoise by name all the way. She
peered into every nook and cranny, every ditch and gutter, but in vain.
Although Momo didn't get back to the amphitheatre till late that night,
she searched it as thoroughly as the darkness would allow. She had nursed a
vague hope that Cassiopeia might, by some miraculous means, have reached
home before her, but she knew in her heart of hearts that the tortoise's
slow rate of progress rendered this impossible.
At long last she crept into bed, really alone for the first time ever.
Once she had given Cassiopeia up for lost, Momo decided to concentrate
on trying to find Beppo. She spent the next few weeks roaming aimlessly
through the city in search of him. No one could give her any clue to his
whereabouts, so her one remaining hope was that they might simply bump into
each other. The vastness of the city made this a forlorn hope. They had as
little chance of meeting as a shipwrecked sailor has that his message in a
bottle will be netted by a fishing boat ten thousand miles from the desert
island where he tossed it into the sea.
189
For all that, Momo kept telling herself, she and Beppo might be quite
close to each other. Who could tell how often she had passed some spot where
he had been only an hour, a minute, or even a moment or two before?
Conversely, how often had Beppo crossed a square or rounded a street corner
only minutes or moments after her? Encouraged by this thought, Momo often
waited in the same spot for hours. She had to move on sooner or later,
however, so even that was no insurance against their missing each other by a
hair's breadth.
How useful Cassiopeia would have been! The tortoise could have
signalled 'WAIT!' or 'KEEP GOING!' As it was, Momo never knew what to do for
the best. She was afraid of missing Beppo if she waited, and just as afraid
of missing him if she didn't.
She also kept her eyes open for the children who used to come and play
with her in the old days, but she never saw a single one. She never saw any
children at all, though this was hardly surprising in view of Nine's remark
about their being 'taken care of.
Momo herself was never picked up by a policeman or other adult and
taken off to a child depot, for the wry good reason that she was under
constant surveillance by the men in grey. Not that she knew it, confinement
to a child depot wouldn't have suited their plans for her.
Although she ate at Nino's restaurant every day, she never managed to
say any more to him than she had on the first occasion. He was always in
just as much of a rush and never had the time.
Weeks became months, and still Momo pursued her solitary existence. One
evening, while perched on the balustrade of a bridge, she sighted the small,
bent figure of a man on another bridge in the distance, wielding a broom as
if his life depended on it. Momo shouted and waved, thinking it was Beppo,
but the man didn't stop work for an instant. She ran
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as fast as she could, but by the time she reached the other bridge
there was no one in sight.
'I don't suppose it was him,' she told herself consolingly. "No, it
can't have been. I know the way Beppo works.' ' Some days she stayed home at
the amphitheatre on the off-chance that Beppo might look in to see if she
was back. If she was out when he came, he would naturally assume that she
was still away. It tormented her to think that this might .ilready have
happened a week or even a day ago, so she waited - in vain. Eventually she
painted" the words 'I'M BACK' on the wall of her room in big, bold letters,
but hers were the only eyes that ever saw them.
The one thing that never forsook Momo in all this time was her vivid
recollection of Professor Hora, the hour-lilies, and the music. She had only
to shut her eyes and listen to her heart, and she could see the blossoms in
all their radiant splendour and hear the voices singing. And even though the
words and melodies were forever changing, she found she could repeat the
words and sing the melodies as easily as she had on the very first day
Sometimes she spent whole days sitting alone on the steps, talking and
singing to herself with no one there to hear but the trees and the birds and
the time-worn stones.
There are many kinds of solitude, but Momu's was a solitude few people
ever know and even fewer experience with such intensity. She felt as if she
were imprisoned in a vault heaped with priceless treasures - an ever-growing
hoard that threatened to crush the life out of her. There was no way out,
either. The vault was impenetrable and she was far too deeply buried beneath
a mountain of time to attract anyone's attention.
There were even moments when she wished she had never heard the music
or seen the flowers. And yet, had she been offered a choice, nothing in the
world would have induced her to part with her memories of them, not even the
prospect
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of death. Yes, death, for she now discovered that there are treasures
capable of destroying those who have no one to share them with.
Every few days, Momo made the long walk to Guide's house and waited
outside the gate for hours in the hope of seeing him again. By now she was
ready to agree to anything - ready to stay with him and listen to him,
whether or not things became as they once were - but the gate remained
firmly shut.
Only a few months passed in this way, yet Momo had never lived through
such an eternity. No clock or calendar can truly measure time, just as no
words can truly describe the loneliness that afflicted her. Suffice it to
say that if she had succeeded in finding her way back to Professor Нога -and
she tried to again and again - she would have begged him to cut off her
supply of time or let her remain with him at Nowhere House forever more.
But she couldn't find the way without Cassiopeia's help, and
Cassiopeia, whether long since back with Professor Hora or lost and roaming
the big, wide world, had never reappeared.
Instead, something quite different happened.
While wandering through the city one day, Momo ran into Paolo, Franco
and Maria, the girl who always used to carry her little sister Rosa around
with her. All three children had changed so much, she hardly recognized
them. They were dressed in a kind of grey uniform and their faces wore a
strangely stiff and lifeless expression. They barely smiled, even when Momo
hailed them with delight.
'I've been looking for you for so long,' she said breathlessly. 'Will
you come back to the amphitheatre and play with me?'
The three children looked at each other, then shook their heads.
'But you'll come tomorrow, won't you, or the next day?'
Again the trio shook their heads.
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"Oh, do come!' Momo pleaded. 'You always used to in the old days.'
'In the old days, yes,' said Paolo, 'but everything's different now. We
aren't allowed to fritter our time away."
'We never did,' Momo protested.
'It was nice,' Maria said, 'but that's not the point.'
And the three of them hurried on with Momo trotting beside them.
'Where are you off to?' she asked.
'To our play class,' Franco told her. That's where they teach us how to
play.'
Momo looked puzzled. 'Play what?'
'Today we're playing data retrieval,' Franco explained. 'It's a very
useful game, but you have to concentrate like mad.'
'How does it go?'
'We all pretend to be punch cards, and each card carries various bits
of information about us -- age, height, weight and so on. Not our real age,
height and weight, of course, because that would make it too easy. Sometimes
we're just long strings of letters and numerals, like MUX/763/y. Anyway,
then we're shuffled and fed into a card index, and one of us has to pick out
a particular card. He has to ask questions in such a way that all the other
cards are eliminated and only the right one is left. The winner is the
person who does it quickest.'
'Is it fun?' Momo asked, looking rather doubtful.
'That's not the point,' Maria repeated uneasily. 'Anyway, you shouldn't
talk like that.'
'So what is the point?' Momo insisted.
'The point is,' Paolo told her, 'it's useful for the future.'
By this time they had reached a big, grey building. The sign over the
gate said 'CHILD DEPOT'.
'I had so much to tell you,' Momo said.
'Maybe we'll see each other again sometime,' Maria said sadly.
193
As they stood there, more children appeared. They streamed in through
the gateway, all looking just the same as Momo's former playmates.
'It was much nicer playing with you,' Franco said suddenly. 'We used to
enjoy thinking up games for ourselves, but our supervisors say they didn't
teach us anything useful.'
'Couldn't you just run away?' Momo hazarded.
The trio shook their heads and glanced around for fear someone might
have overheard.
'I tried it a couple of times at the beginning,' Franco whispered, 'but
it's hopeless. They always catch you again.'
'You shouldn't talk like that,' said Maria. 'After all, we're taken
care of now.'
They all fell silent and stared gloomily into space. At last Momo
summoned up her courage and said, 'Couldn't you take me in with you? I'm so
lonely these days.'
Just then, something extraordinary happened. Before the children could
reply they were whisked into the courtyard of the building like iron filings
attracted by a giant magnet, and the gates clanged shut behind them.
After a minute, when she had recovered from her shock, Momo cautiously
approached the gates intending to knock or ring and beg to be allowed to
join in, no matter what game the children were playing. She had barely taken
a couple of steps, however, when she stopped dead, rooted to the spot with
terror. A man in grey had suddenly materialized between her and the gates.
'Pointless,' he said with a thin-lipped smile, the inevitable cigar
jutting from the corner of his mouth. 'Don't even try it. Letting you in
would be against our interests.'
'Why?' Momo asked. She felt as if her limbs were slowly filling with
icy water.
'Because we have other plans for you,' said the man in grey, blowing a
smoke ring that coiled itself around her neck and took a long time to
disperse.
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People were passing by, all in too much of a hurry to give them a
second glance. Momo pointed to the man in grey and tried to call for help,
but no sound escaped her lips.
'Save it,' said the man in grey with a bleak, mirthless laugh. 'You
ought to know us better than that -- you know how powerful we are. No one
can help you, now we've got all your friends. You're at our mercy too, but
we've decided to go easy on you.'
'Why?' Momo managed to get out.
'Because we'd like you to do us a little favour. Be sensible, and you
can do yourself and your friends a lot of good. What do you say?'
'All right,' whispered Momo.
The man in grey gave another thin-lipped smile. 'Then we'll meet at
midnight to talk it over.'
She nodded mutely, but the man in grey had already vanished. All that
marked the spot where he had stood was a wisp of cigar smoke.
He hadn't told her where they were to meet.
SEVENTEEN
The Square
Momo was too scared to go back to the amphitheatre. She felt sure the
man in grey would turn up there for their midnight meeting, and the thought
of being all alone with him in the deserted ruins filled her with terror.
No, she never wished to see him again, neither there nor anywhere else.
Whatever his proposition might be, it boded no 'good' for her and her
friends - that was as plain as a pikestaff. But where could she hide from
him?
A crowded place seemed the best bet. Although no one had taken any
notice before, if the man in grey really tried to harm her and she called
for help, people would surely hear and come to her aid. Besides, she told
herself, she'd be hardei to find in a crowd than on her own.
So Momo spent the rest of the afternoon walking the busiest streets and
squares surrounded by jostling pedestrians. All through the evening and well
into the night she continued to trudge in a big circle that brought her back
to her starting point. Around and around she went, swept along by a
fast-flowing tide of humanity, until she had completed no fewer than three
of these circuits.
After keeping this up for so many hours, her weary feet began to ache.
It grew later and later, but still she walked, half asleep, on and on and on
...
'Just a little rest,' she told herself at last, '-just a teeny little
rest, and then I'll be more on my guard ...'
Parked beside the kerb was a little three-wheeled delivery truck laden
with an assortment of sacks and cartons. Momo
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climbed aboard, found herself a nice, soft sack and leaned her back
against it. She drew up her weary feet and tucked them under her skirt. My,
did that feel good! She heaved a sigh of relief, snuggled up against the
sack and was asleep 'before she knew it.
But she was haunted by the weirdest dreams. In one of them she saw old
Beppo, with his broom held crossways like a balancing pole, teetering along
a tightrope suspended above a dark chasm. 'Where's the other end?' she heard
him call, over and over again. 'I can't see the other end!' And the
tightrope did indeed seem infinitely long - so long that it stretched away
into the darkness in both directions. Momo yearned to help the old man, but
she couldn't even attract his attention; he was too high up and too far
away.
Then she saw Guido, pulling a paper streamer out of his mouth. He
pulled and pulled, but the streamer was endless and unbreakable -- in fact
he was already standing on a big mound of paper. It seemed to Momo that he
was gazing at her imploringly, as if he would suffocate unless she came to
his rescue. She tried to run to him, but her feet became entangled in the
coils of paper, and the more she struggled to free herself the more
entangled she became.
And then she saw the children. They were all as flat as playing cards,
and each card had a pattern of little holes punched in it. Every time the
cards were shuffled they had to sort themselves out and be punched with a
new pattern of holes. The card children were crying bitterly, but all Momo
could hear was a sort of clattering sound as they were shuffled yet again
and fluttered down on top of each other. 'Stop!' she shouted, but her feeble
voice was drowned by the clatter, which grew louder and louder until it
finally woke her up.
It was dark, and for a moment she couldn't think where she was. Then
she remembered climbing aboard the delivery truck and realized that it was
on the move. That was what had woken her - the sound of the engine.
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Momo wiped her cheeks, which were still wet with tears, and wondered
where she could be. The truck had evidently been on the move for some time,
because it was in a different part of the city. At this late hour not a soul
could be seen in the streets, not a light showed anywhere in the tall
buildings that flanked them.
The truck was going quite slowly and Momo, without stopping to think,
jumped out. She began walking in the opposite direction, eager to get back
to the crowded streets that seemed to offer protection from the man in grey.
Then, remembering her nightmares, she came to a halt.
The sound of the engine gradually faded until silence enveloped the
darkened street.
She would stop running away, Momo decided. She had done so in the hope
of saving herself. All this time she had been preoccupied with herself, her
own loneliness and fear, when it was really her friends who were in trouble.
If anyone could save them, she could. Remote as the chances of persuading
the men in grey to release them might be, she must at least try.
Once she reached this conclusion, she felt a mysterious change come
over her. Her feelings of fear and helplessness had reached such a pitch
that they were suddenly transformed into their opposites. Having overcome
them, she felt courageous and self-confident enough to tackle any power on
earth; more precisely, she had ceased to worry about herself.
Now she wanted to meet the man in grey - wanted to at all costs.
'I must go to the amphitheatre at once,' she told herself. 'Perhaps it
still isn't too late, perhaps he'll be waiting for me.'
That, however, was easier said than done. She didn't know where she was
and hadn't the least idea which direction to take, but she started walking
anyway.
On and on she walked through the dark, silent streets.
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Being barefoot, she couldn't even hear her own footsteps. Every time
she turned a corner she hoped to see something that would tell her she was
on the right track, some landmark she recognized, but she never did. She
couldn't ask the way, either, because the only living creature she saw was a
grimy, emaciated dog that was foraging for scraps in a rubbish heap and fled
in panic at her approach.
At last she came to a huge, deserted square. It wasn't a handsome
square with trees or a fountain in the middle, but an empty, featureless
expanse fringed with buildings whose dark shapes stood outlined against the
night sky.
Momo set off across the square. When she reached the middle, a clock
began to chime not far away. It chimed a good many times, so perhaps it was
already midnight. If the man in grey was waiting for her at the
amphitheatre, Momo reflected, she had no chance at all of getting there in
time. He would go away without seeing her, and any chance of saving her
friends would be gone, perhaps for ever.
She chewed her knuckles, wondering what to do. She had absolutely no
idea.
'Here I am!' she called into the darkness, as loud as she I'ould. She
had no real hope that the man in grey would hear her, but she was wrong.
Scarcely had the last chime died away when lights appeared in all the
streets that led to the big, empty square, faint at first but steadily
growing brighter -- drawing nearer. And then Momo realized that they were
the headlights of innumerable cars, all converging on the spot where she
stood. Dazzled by the glare no matter which way she turned, she shielded her
eyes with her hand. So they were coming after all!
But Momo hadn't expected them to come in such strength. For a moment,
all her new-found courage deserted her. Hemmed in and unable to escape, she
shrank as far as she could into her baggy old jacket.
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Then, remembering the hour-lilies and the mighty chorus of voices, she
instantly felt comforted. The strength flowed back into her limbs.
Meanwhile, with their engines purring softly, the cars had continued
their slow advance. At last they stopped, bumper to bumper, in a circle
whose central point was Momo herself.
The men in grey got out. Momo couldn't see how many of them there were
because they remained outside the ring of headlights, but she sensed that
many eyes were on her -unfriendly eyes - and a