Margherita leaves her home, full of lust for life. She hears the sound of the gate closing behind her and she takes a moment to appreciate the fresh May’s air that blows through her hair, messing up the red mane and her orange dress. The brown bag is hanging from her shoulders, left abandoned, and at the bottom of the bag, lays sad her exercise book full of everything but homework: drawings, quotes, and a couple of failed attempts to reproduce the cover of The Psychedelic Sounds’ album.
Margherita is 19 years old and she’s not going to enter her class today. As usual, this morning she said goodbye to Mum kissing her forehead, while she was bolting a whole cinnamon cookie. Mum is 45 years old and since her daughter’s birth, it seems she’s not getting old, neither outside nor inside. Even though her hair is starting to turn grey, she has the innocence and the joy of a sixteen years-older, qualities that seems to be immortal. Margherita, today, is not going to school also for her good, for the purity of those green eyes, so similar to hers own.
The girl, looking at the clock on her waist, realizes that it’s almost 8 o’clock. She has to hurry up or the others would have left her behind. She mounts on her bicycle, that was resting against the wall. Today her bike looks like a horse to her, a white horse faster than the wind. The bike is a horse because she is a knight, in this sunny day. She is strong, courageous, brave, fearless and she’s about to save the world. She has a mission, a purpose. She feels free, she is exited, she is happy.
She jump off the saddle at the cross road between Lame and Marconi streets, where Gianni and Lucia are waiting for her, smoking.
Lucia is one of those girls who instils fear in the hearts of grannies and children. She has short hair, black clothes, dark makeup and a very bad attitude. But when she smiles her big chestnut eyes start to shine bright as the sun, and suddenly she become a beauty. Lucia is the burning girl, and she set fire to the souls of the people around her. Margherita knows that if today she is going to save the world is mostly due to Lucia’s spur. The girl in black leaves the joint in Gianni’s big hands, to be able to run and hug Margherita.
Gianni is the exactly opposite of Lucia. He wears khaki trousers and a white t-shirt, in which his skinny body almost disappears. Gianni has basically no flesh cling to his bones, he just has enormous lips and the sweetest look of all. It’s clear that Gianni is not there because he believes in what they’re doing, he is there because he follows Lucia’s fire as it is his personal headlight. He waves at Margherita, with his perfect smile.
The three of them start to make their way to the square, and while walking they begin to meet other youth, teenagers, the youngers a little bit overawed and university students who are strumming their guitars and sharing flowers. Margherita picks up a little violet and she put it behind her ear. Lucia spread a bunch of petals through Gianni’s blond curls, and in that moment he lose every grain of hesitation.
After a couple of turns, there it is, the multitude they were looking for. It’s huge, 8th august square is full of people. The three friends immerse themselves in the demonstration. Margherita has the eyes full of colours, the slight smell of marijuana stroke her nostrils, her ears swarmed by the music incite her legs to move along the rhythm, her hands are linked with the ones of a guy with a bear, but upon all her mind is filled up with humanity. There, there it is the most important virtue of a knight! Humanity, kindness! She is there because she is human, she is there to save the American soldiers forced to fight in a nonsense war, to save the boys and the girls who, like her, are protesting for life, she is doing this for the Vietnam people, she is fighting for freedom, for communion, for peace. She is doing this to preserve the naivety of Mum, that despite death in television screens, on the page of the newspapers, is still believing in goodness.
21/05/1967, Bologna, Italy.
