The sun was going down behind
su monte, and the tower clock of the near church beated six times. There would still be light for a couple hours; nights were still quite cold, but at least the days lasted longer, the first gift of a long awaited spring.
Sitting at a table in his own little back yard, the bearded man grabbed a bottle with no label and poured some red wine in three old glasses made of thick glass, and drank a bit from his own. His two guests, father and son, took their glasses and drank as well.
April 25th was supposed to be a holiday, but there was no real holiday for shepherds, not in that time of the year. A lamb had got injured and they had just got back to their village.
A woman in a long black skirt and worn shirt walked through the door that led to the yard, with a wooden board and a round plate, carrying the remaining half of a big dark bread, a form of cheese that had just been opened, and a whole round of smoked sausage. On the white plate there were five small ripe pears.
They had been talking about the injured lamb for a while; the two guests, the local vet and his recently graduated son, would leave soon. Yet, they had time enough for eating something.
The bearded man got on his feet, pulled a
resolza out of his pocket and started peeling and slicing the sausage; while the young guest got up, and started cutting the bread and cheese with his own knife. The old vet sat waiting, while enjoying the red wine; it was no secret that their host's vineyard was the biggest one on the most favorable side of the hill, and his wine was among the best ones in the village.
As they were cutting on the same big wooden board, the bearded man asked his young guest to show him his
resolza. It was, evidently, quite new, large, and made of dark horn. Somehow, it suited its owner, who was young, dark in hair and skin, and had big hands. A young vet, yes, but not a stranger to working in the fields. The man looked at the knife, then handed it back to the young man who moved the cheese on the side of the board and started cutting some bread.
The bearded man closed his own knife, blond horn and darkened steel, copper bolster and worn sharpened blade, and sat down, picking some sausage, while the old vet was having bread with pears and cheese.
"My son just delivered a knife like that" he said to his guest. "Apparently, the new owner is happy, so there we go again".
The old man smiled back.
"Yes I've heard of it. Actually, my son's knife was made by the very same maker, so that's why it looked familiar to you. I bought it for him less than a month ago".
The three men sat silently for a while, as they ate and drank their wine. After a while, the woman came back to get what was left of the afternoon meal, and asked if they would have more wine. The two guests stood up, thanked, and said they would leave.
Walking through the old house, they reached the front door. The bearded man shook the vet's hand, thanking him for his work. The vet replied he would pass by the next day, and see if they could do anything else for the lamb.
"
Mimmi', a nos bidere"
The two guests walked away from the house, down towards the main street of the village. The bearded man stood by the door, touched his resolza inside of his pocket, then went back in. The air was getting cool due to the evening breeze.
Fausto
:thumbup:
