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“I found the book.”
For few moments Armie thinks that he has hit his head really bad falling from the couch (where he was asleep when he heard the bell. Even if it was in the middle of afternoon because theatre is hard and eat two big veal steak after theater is even harder) because there is no way that the guy in front of his door is Timmy. There is no way. Because Timmy should still be in Budapest killing fake soldiers (and fake horses, a lot of fake horses if you go to search the tag of King on Instagram. One thing that Armie doesn’t do. Obviously. But he is an actor and he knows this kind of things. He searches ropes on instagram, not fake dead horses. Sometime horses with ropes, but only if he is really bored) and not here in New York in front of his door. Because Timmy would have called or texted, he wouldn’t show up without a message, these were the kind of things he did only during the press tour, and Armie knows that people are moving forward, that you can’t always have the same connection with people, that you can’t stay in Crema forever.
So the only explanation is that he hitted his head very hard and he is imagining everything.
“So, can I come in or are you busy with my replacement??” The imaginary Timmy says, and when he moves his arm away from the door, he looks very real. Too much to be a dream.
I should say something, Armie thinks. I should say something before I look like the worst idiots ever, he thinks.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Have you been fired?” Maybe something else would have been better.
Timmy laughs. “This is certainly not the welcome back I expected, next time I will stop in Paris to say hi to Pauline instead of coming here.”
What did you expect, he would like to ask. Months have passed and he feels like he hasn’t had enough time to get ready. What did you expect? A friendly hug, a pat on the shoulder as if we were two brothers, a kiss as if we were two lovers? What would you have wanted, he would like to ask. But you can’t ask these questions, you can’t ask them or you would get answers.
“I’ve already told you, I found your book.”
“My book?”
Armie only realizes at that moment that the not imaginary Timmy that he is presented at his door is holding a book in his hand.
“Your book, man. Did you drink too much last night that you’re so out of whack?”
His stupid treasure hunt.
“The book hunt!”
“Bingo. So I found your book and now I’m here to collect my prize and all of that. And of course I came here immediately because I couldn’t wait, I couldn’t risk that someone would steal the prize.”
“Of course, of course. And what would the prize be?“
"You.” And at that moment, Timmy seems older . For the first time since he appeared in front of his eyes he seems to Armie that the name begins to be too childish for him, as if in these three months he had grown up and Armie handn’t noticed it (did he also grew up? Or he remained at the same point? Will there ever be a time when looking in the mirror will think that Armie is too childish? that he will think of himself as Armand?).
“I heard it’s a very coveted prize.” He jokes but his gaze is fixed on Tim.
“The most coveted, but only I found your book.”
“You found it.”
“I found it.”
“You found me.”
“I always find you.”
Somewhere near Crema in May 2016
“Armiiiiiiieeeeeeee? Where the fuck are you?”
Timmy’s voice reaches him, almost muffled between the sound of running water (a stream? Yet another swamp filled with mosquitoes?).
“Armiiiiiiiiiieeee”
“Here. I’m here, I think.”
“Here, where?”
Armie looks around looking for landmarks: a coffee shop open all night, an address. What he sees is only his bicycle with a flat tire and darkness.
“Here, here, I think.”
“Wait, I’m coming. Keep talking, I try to follow your voice.”
Armie hears the sound of footsteps in the distance and then again Timmy’s voice.
“How did you get here, man? You were in front of us until a few minutes ago and then you completely disappeared from my sight.”
“I must have taken a pebble with the bicycle, the wheel is fucked.”
“Do you think there’s a roadside rescue near here that we can call? Because otherwise I have no idea how we’ll go home in two on the same bike, this is not a fucking tandem.”
Even if he is drunk and sore, Armie can’t help but laugh.
“I’m lost.”
“I know you’re lost, it’s the fault of these fucking streets that are all the same.”
“No I’m lost lost.”
“What does it mean lost lost?”
“In life.”
“Armie I’m walking amid the mosquitoes and what I think of cow shit, by the way have you ever seen cows in these areas? Anyway, you’re 6.5 and you eat like two people how is it possible that you have a sad booze? I am a sad drunker, you are the funny one. You can’t steal my job.”
“I’m serious, Timmy.”
“I know you are.” And it’s true because Timmy always knows. Timmy always understands him.
"I don’t know where I’m going. In life. Not in the streets of Crema. I’m not sure I like where I’m going and what I’m discovering along the way, and I don’t even know if I can change my road.”
Timmy reaches him and sits near him.
“It’s not true, you’re not.”
“Timmy.”
“You are not, I found you.”
“You always find me.”
“I always find you.” And even though it’s dark, Armie knows he’s smiling.
“I like it here, if I’m lost I could stay here … We could furnish this place.”
“It’s not the worst idea ever, also because if you expect me to carry you to Crema, we’re fucked.”
“It’s not my book.”
They are on the couch together, almost cuddling, almost kissing.
“What?” Tim’s voice is acute and for a moment he is Timmy again.
“That. It’s not my book.”
“Of course it is. It has your signature and message and everything.”
“Where did you found it?” He asks kissing his hair. They are shorter, he doesn’t mind,
“You know where I found it. I found it where you left it”
“You have no idea, right?”
Timmy moves away from the embrace and blushes.
“Okay I did not find it personally. I couldn’t because I was in the wrong continent. I saw the video on instagram and it loooks like the coolest idea and-“
"And?”
“So I bought it on ebay, somebody sold your book, but it’s all the same, I’ve found it anyway, just differently.”
“It’s not my book.”
“C’mon just because I bought it on ebay-”
“It’s not my book, a girl found it after an hour and came to meet me, we even took a selfie.”
“But there’s your signature e-”
“And you can’t recognize my calligraphy, I am deeply offended” Armie pretends to pout.
“This is because you never sent me love letters.”
“I’m really a bad Victorian heroine, I know.”
The laughs. Timmy come back to his place in the embrace.
“Armie?”
“Hm?”
“I found you anyway.”