is concluded oggi con questi due ultimi capitoli l’epopea di Joe Roberts, una storia mozzafiato di Massimo Mangani. Il racconto è ispirato al famoso pezzo di Bruce Springsteen “Highway Patrolman”. L’autore, chiedendosi che fine avesse fatto il Franky della canzone, ha incominciato a buttar giù questa sorta di “pulp on the road” che da Rock City, città immaginaria che ricorda Los Angeles, ci ha condotti fino al Canada.
I miei più sentiti complimenti a Massimo che ci ha reso partecipi di questa bellissima avventura. Leggetela dall’inizio sfogliando tutti gli interventi a questo link . Per chi invece ci ha seguito fino ad oggi, ecco qui sotto i capitoli conclusivi del racconto. Buona lettura e buon ascolto! (più avanti troverete anche la versione di Johnny Cash).
CAPITOLO 18
Non riesco a credere alle mie orecchie, lo hanno chiamato “capo”… Franky… non è possibile, qualcosa non quadra, devo assolutamente parlare con lui, dentro di me sento strane vibrazioni… probabilmente prima che mi asportassero il tumore sarebbe stato il preambolo dell’apparizione dei miei piccoli amici… devo raggiungere mio fratello, non riesco a costruire la storia… deve spiegare… ha moooolto da spiegare.
Sento la door opening, footsteps coming down the stairs, are at least two men. From where I'm hiding behind the pallet can see the last steps, armed individuals appear to have at least three other, looking around warily. I squeeze the AK-47 ready to fire, do not leave even one alive, I have to leave the field and climb the damn ladder. The three split up, one coming toward me, the other two disappear into the semi darkness ... I hear footsteps approaching , comes from the right side, I move to the left, look, the man stops. At a guess must be close to the pallet, diagonally opposite to where I am, steps over, it's best to wait, Aim, the man slowly begins to turn around at the checkout, I see the barrel of his gun check around the corner, I hold my breath ... suddenly it appears, holds the weapon with two hands, is taking aim but I can play advance ... the bullet of the AK 47's tearing apart the chest, blood splashes and fragments of bone marrow splash on the wall behind him, collapses like a marionette without wires, a pool of blood formed under his instantly body, the echo of the shot is still reverberating in the shed.
I hear the shuffling footsteps of two other men who come back, I have to play on the surprise factor, I think I just have them at your sketch out firing, firing wildly, the first fall with his head crushed, the other manages to dodge the blow, he threw himself on the ground, takes aim and shoots grazed to a calf, I burn, the wound started immediately to bleed again ... shooting at him, I see the right leg that explodes, blood gushing from the femoral splashing, the man screams, the point is still my weapon against, this time ... I take aim and his head explodes.
The road should be free now, I run towards the stairs, I'll throw back to another pallet to see if someone is targeting me ... I do not know how many men are still alive ... than Franky.
With breath begins to think about how may get the facts ... after he killed that boy down to Perrineville Franky ran in Canada, is affiliated with a gang of traffickers and became the head ... but why lie to Mary ... because the staging of the call? Maybe because we believed him dead, why do not you ever were going to look at the bottom ... now is trying to kill me, but that did not have to like it ... knowing it!
Suddenly, in full would silently feel Franky's voice, coming from the loft: - "So you no longer have any chance ..." Another voice
, with a strong French accent interrupts him: - "Shut up dirty bastard Now it's time to call it quits, after we managed to kill that federal'll have your turn! "
-" Do not make the slightest difference, you count the hours ... "A third voice intrudes
: -" Hey boss I wonder how he did it, we also accompanied to the toilet, kept an eye 24 hours on 24 ... "
breathed a sigh of relief, the head is not Franky French accent ... is that shit, they're really taking prisoner ... now we have to find out what's behind it.
I go out of hiding, I reach the ramp, begin to rise slowly, very very slowly, I must not make me feel absolutely ... In the meantime I changed the magazine to the gun, I checked also that of 44, missing a shot.
The French voice starts to speak: - "You should go see what happened, I do not feel anything down, they must have done it outside but I suspect that even if the kids do not pass well, have been fired at least 100 strokes! "
-" I go again! "
Arrival at the top of the stairs, I flattened against the wall, expect the door to open, while the man goes out I tripped, tumbles down the stairs, shot him a dozen of shots, when it comes on the back a good part of his body is reduced to a bloody pulp by the loft ready to shoot again, I just block. A fat man is holding a gun to his head Franky, looks at me with a grin, Franky has a pair of handcuffs ...
- "Throw the gun or the asshole of your brain appears will be the dinner of the rats that infest this place filthy! "
Franky looks at me ... appears ... look eloquent ... do what it says. I drop the AK-47 to land him away from me with a kick, the pig does not know about 44!
Everything happens so fast that I can not realize anything, the Frog turns to me, holding me at gunpoint, began to bend down to pick up the gun, Franky suddenly gets up, hit him violently in the neck with both hands, the handcuffs they put almost KO, I pull out the 44, while I pull the trigger the fat tip against his weapon ... The shots were fired at the same time ... while I fly off his skullcap, I feel like a very strong blow on my front, I remain stunned for a moment, I see Franky rushing towards me, something is screaming, from the lip seems to me a NOOOOOOOOOOO!
Liquid colarmi sticky start to his eyes, my legs give way, the impact with the floor is pretty strong, I remain motionless staring at the lightbulb on the ceiling, strangely I do not feel any pain ... Franky bends over me ... I see the movement in slow motion, I have no sound ... Franky Hands I stroked her hair, every now and then retract, which passed over his face smeared with my blood, then start stroking it again ... I see the tears that flow from his eyes, his lips are moving ... - "Do not die Joe, please hold on ... JOEEEEEEEE
!!!!" So much the better brother, believe me, the better! I always feel colder, I sleep loooong sleep, Franky continues to cry, there's other men, some have divided the Canadian National Guard, the other bibs old Franky FBI ... I knew ... I knew that the brothers were in place ... no need for this?
Begin to feel good, damn good, I prefer the bottom die in this way rather than in a hospital bed with a catheter inserted nell'uccello and a needle in my arm!
Here they are my little friends, I see their shadows bobbing in front of me ...
- "Time to go Joe!"
- "The plan was successful!"
- "Come, follow us Joe!" With great
effort I can say - "Who are you?"
- "You have not yet figured out Joe?"
- "We are your conscience, you have just driven this far!"
- "That evening, Joe, you let go your way brother, but the fault is not the most serious, is that you leave me alone ... "
- "... to fight" Shit!
"All you've done justice to the acts of Rock City, Mexico, offset that guilt ..."
"... we have only shown you what you already knew ... from the sex shop on ... we're the good part of the monster you have invaded! "
" ... our final task was reported here, Franky ... help settle once and for all your debt! "
-" Time to go Joe ... ... "
I feel cold, very very cold, my sffievolisce breath fades ... fades ... ...
Franky is still kneeling, I can speak: -”Và da Maria… i ragazzi… un padre!”
Franky annuisce, riesco ancora a chiedere: “Perché?”
Franky si fruga nella tasca interna della giacca, estrae un portadocumenti nero, me lo mostra… c’è un tesserino con la sua foto… Federal Bureau of Investigation… agente speciale Franky Roberts… annuisco… ora posso crepare in pace!
CAPITOLO 19
Dalle memorie di Franky Roberts
Perrineville, 15 Aprile 2010
Non fui io ad uccidere il ragazzo quella sera di 35 anni fa laggiù in Perrineville. For the truth is a long story but I think it's time to tell it, if only because it caused the tragic death of my brother Joe several years later.
When I returned from Vietnam, I must say that I was rather shocked to find Mary married to my brother was really my girlfriend.
Initially the pain was so strong that I began to drink in every country were convinced that I was crazy, that hell in Vietnam I would cut back like many other survivors, a dangerous element to society. I tried to get my life, but without a job and without Mary was really hard.
Jason met a winter evening, we had been together in Saigon, I told him my misfortunes, told me that he entered the Bureau, who needed good people, he left me his business card. A few months later became a federal agent, assigned to undercover operations and in the meantime I had cleaned up, alcohol was only a bad memory. However, I continue to act like a nut not to arouse suspicions in the awarding of a contract pending.
Finally I was put in contact with a gang of traffickers in Canada, with bases also in New Jersey: I would have to infiltrate and inform my superiors on all their activities ... I found that not only deals drugs, but also trafficking in arms and prostitutes.
also managed to discover that their base of operations si trovava a Saskatoon ed iniziai ad andarci piuttosto spesso finché guadagnai la fiducia di Hector Marceau, il capo.
Divenni responsabile dello smistamento nel New Jersey, il Bureau acquistò un capannone dove stipare armi e droga… l’idea non era quella di sgominare subito la gang ma di tenerla d’occhio per un pò in modo da scoprire eventuali collegamenti con pesci più grossi.
Durante una delle mie trasferte conobbi George, un ragazzino di vent’anni arruolato dalla banda come fattorino, Hector mi affidò il compito di svezzarlo, la prima missione era portare una prostituta minorenne ad un ricco produttore di Hollywood, era sottinteso che durante il viaggio avremmo potuto disporne a nostro piacimento.
A metà del viaggio avvenne l’irreparabile, i due ragazzi si innamorarono, quell’amore puro ed intenso di cui solo gli adolescenti sono capaci.
George provò a fuggire con la ragazza, riuscii a fermarlo e feci la mia prima cazzata, la cosa che un agente sotto copertura non deve mai fare…..gli rivelai la mia identità.
Consapevole dei rischi a cui ci stavamo esponendo, li portai a Perrineville pensando di mettere tutti al sicuro. Abbagliato da quell’amore in cui rivedevo ciò che avevo provato io per Maria, feci la seconda cazzata, preparai la loro fuga, la pianificai nei minimi particolari. In realtà, avessi avuto un barlume di lucidità avrei dovuto avvertire i miei superiori di tutto il casino e far put the children under protection ... but I did not.
The famous night it happened that a member of the gang away recognized the two boys who were preparing to leave ... it happened in a room in North Perrinville ... began to undermine the girl to offend her, and said that if no date is gliel'avesse Course by Hector to blurt everything, including the fact that I had not completed the mission. George tried to react, there was a scuffle, George had the worst, he found himself with his skull smashed, I arrived after about ten minutes, the boy was already dead. I managed to tell me the little thing had happened, then I heard the siren in the distance my brother's car on patrol Joe. I told the girl to lie: "When the polziotto will ask who did it, you tell him he was Franky" It was the only way to sidetrack the investigation, even Joe the FBI knew of my work, thought I was still a pauper!
Pursued by Joe managed to cross the border with Canada, reached the gang member who killed George and freddai with great pleasure, then I went to Saskatoon and from there I felt my superiors that I was ordered to remain there by continuing to provide information .
Things went well for a long time, thanks to my straight, the FBI was able to discover and dismantle large drug trafficking and weapons. The thing must have
suspicious that Hector began to watch their backs, in the end, somehow, found that there was a mole within the band and that the mole was me.
So I switched to an agent of the Bureau informant informant Hector Marceau. After I was taken prisoner, rather than kill, I had to do a double game, have a radio installed in the base from which to speak directly with the District of New York, providing false or inaccurate information to my colleagues. Although I was controlled day and night, I managed to put the flea in the ear to the commander of the district ... when Joe arrived, even the 'FBI was already on the road ...
Joe's death marked the rest of my life, I feel terribly guilty, I'm sure that somehow I attracted towards the end ... I must have heard my call ... I do not know how to explain ... between brothers is something quite normal after being taken prisoner ... I started to dream about the gang often, he must have sensed qesto dreams.
He left Rock City and started on my trail ... hell ... it was my brother!
I love you Joe, wherever you are you damn well want!
Massimo Mangani - Other Chapters
Highway Patrolman
My name is Joe Roberts; I work for the state.
I’m a sergeant out of Perrineville: barracks number eight.
I’ve always done an honest job; honest as I could.
Got a brother named Frankie; Frankie ain’t no good.
Well ever since we were young kids, it’s been the same come down:
I’d get a call on the shortwave; Frankie’s in trouble down town.
Well if it was any other man, I’d put him straight away.
But sometimes when it’s your brother, you look the other way.
Yeah, me and Frankie laughin’ and drinkin’;
Nothin’ feels better than blood on blood.
Takin’ turns dancin’ with Maria,
While the band played “The Night of the Johnstown Flood”.
I catch him when he’s strayin’, like any brother should.
Man turns his back on his family, he ain’t no good.
Well Frankie went into the army back in 1965,
I got a farm deferment, settled down, took Maria for my wife.
But them wheat prices kept on droppin’, ’til it was like we’s gettin’ robbed.
Frankie came home in `68, and me, I took this job.
Yeah, me and Frankie laughin’ and drinkin’;
Nothin’ feels better than blood on blood.
Takin’ turns dancin’ with Maria,
While the band played “The Night of the Johnstown Flood”.
I catch him when he’s strayin’,
Teach him how to walk that line.
Man turns his back on his family, ain’t no friend of mine.
The night was like any other, I got a call `bout a quarter-to-nine.
There was trouble at a roadhouse, out on the Michigan line.
There was a kid on the floor lookin’ bad, bleedin’ hard from his head.
There was a girl cryin’ at a table: “It was Frankie,” she said.
I ran out and I jumped in my car and I hit the lights.
I musta done about a hundred and ten, through Michigan county that night.
It was down by the crossroads, out by Willow Bank.
Seen a Buick with Ohio plates; behind the wheel was Frank.
Well I chased him through them county roads.
‘Til a sign said “Canadian border five miles from here”.
Pulled over to the side of the highway,
Watched the tail-lights disappear.
Yeah, me and Frankie laughin’ and drinkin’;
Nothin’ feels better than blood on blood.
Takin’ turns dancin’ with Maria,
While the band played “The Night of the Johnstown Flood”.
I catch him when he’s strayin’, like any brother Should.
Man turns His back on His family, he is not no good.
Written by Bruce Springsteen
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