8. Rome: 2nd Philosophical Meeting (10 pgs.)

ACT I - CHAPTER 8

2nd PHILOSOPHICAL MEETING

ROME VILLA ASCOLASSI

Friday November 17, 2017

Villa Ascolassi 100 km south of Rome Italy

That day they had played in Rome with Club Trajano, the second best in the city, and they had won two to one. From the Walker San Benito hotel, where the team had stayed, Yellow picked him up in the car, they headed to the Miguel Ángel International Airport and from there they flew, again at night, to Villa Ascolassi.

After the helicopter landed, upon reaching the living room of the mansion, Alexandre did not see anyone, but when he went out to the terrace, he saw a woman in the distance swimming in the illuminated pool. Without losing sight of her he went down the stairs to the stone terrace. She swam from the other end of the long pool. When she arrived and went upstairs, grabbed a white towel that was lying on a chair. She dried her athletic figure in a white, one-piece, skin-tight swimsuit. He had already seen those freckles. He thought, It’s her! I can’t believe it!

“You put the note in my suit,” Alexandre told her.

“You didn’t like the kiss?” she asked, defiant and cold at the same time, as she dried her statuesque body. She approached and looked at him with a mixture of sweetness and distrust along with a touch of disdain. Her mischievous, trusting, innocent smile delighted in watching him burn with desire. Alexandre stood hard as a rock, unable to move, as if she had cast a spell on him.

“They will arrive tomorrow for breakfast. The night is warm and the sky is open. We don’t want to miss these stars, do we? We’ll have dinner here,” she said, looking up, showing her beautiful neck.

“Did you know Ronald?” Alexandre asked.

“No,” she said.

“What were you doing at his funeral?”

“I think you already know that.”

“Do you work for Ricardo?”

“No.”

“What is your role in all this?”

“I simply help on the condition that you don’t ask me questions. If you do, I won’t help,” she said and there was silence.

He contemplated her beauty that increased with that dose of mystery. Who are you? Why do you want to help? Alexandre thought.

“Can you accept my help without asking questions?” she asked.

“I’m dying to make you one,” he said.

“Okay, just one, but I can’t assure you that I can answer it.”

“Why the kiss in the note?” he asked.

“That?” she asked. But how basic this man is! she thought. “But that was just a game! Oh! Now, this is fun! I thought you were going to ask me a smart question,” she said, laughing and flirting. Now I’ll make you one, do you agree?”

“Yes,” answered Alexandre.

“Are you a liar?” she asked.

“No,” he replied and thought, But what an insult!

“We’ll see about that,” she said with a flirtatious and defiant look accompanied by a triumphant smile. “You won’t ask any more questions, will you?” she asked.

“Okay, no more questions,” Alexandre replied and thought as he watched her dry her body, I can’t believe how beautiful she is!

“I’ll see you in a bit,” she said and left.

Still without reacting, he looked at her statuesque body leaving. Suddenly she stopped, turned and walked towards him very slowly, like a jealous tigress.

“Alexandre Duval, I’m Francisca Walker. Welcome to my house,” she said, turned on her heel and left.

“Thank you,” Alexandre responded and smiled, as he watched her go up the stairs. But how wonderful she is! he thought. She was beautiful, flirtatious and hopelessly irresistible, the most attractive woman he had ever met in his entire life.

Dinner was going to be held at a marble table on the pool terrace. Several candles illuminated the place creating a romantic atmosphere. She was wearing a short blue dress that fit her beautiful legs sculpted by the Norwegian hills that she had climbed since she was a child with her father. The free spirit in her liked to be alone in rugged mountains looking at impressive fjords and waterfalls. The geography of Norway had shaped the character of an intelligent, sweet, curious, cheerful and innocent Viking. Untamed like the wind, she couldn’t stand school and her own parents educated her at home with the help of the best teachers. She had completed all her studies with excellent grades and repeated the same process in college. Cambridge’s best professors helped her graduate in nuclear physics and economics. Determined to double her family’s fortune, she had become her father’s right arm when her mother died.

Alexandre looked at her wide gold necklace that contrasted with her long red hair that fell behind her bare shoulders. Two waiters dressed in white shirts, tailcoats and black jackets served the elegant dinner.

“How did you know I liked gnocchi?” Alexandre asked strangely.

“A little bird told me,” she answered and thought, If you knew who the little bird was, you wouldn’t believe it. “Don’t you think it’s a wonderful night?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Indeed, it is. And you make it more beautiful,” he said and thought, Ugh! How corny! She makes me stupid! “I mean, those clothes look great on you,” Alexandre said to make up for his mistake.

“But yours doesn’t look good on you. Come with me,” she said, getting up from the table and walking past him. She extended her arm and put her hand within reach for him to take. She led him by the hand to one of the mansion’s suites. From there, to the huge walking-closet that had large mirrors.

“Choose a suit, they are your size. I’ll wait for you on the terrace,” she said, smiling, and walking on her high heels, she turned her head over her bare shoulder to look at him, flirting, until she disappeared from his sight.

Alexandre was carried away by her daring and elegant game. The suits were new, dark colors and silk shirts. Alexandre chose a black suit, a white shirt and a light blue bow tie, which it rhymed with the color of his eyes.

“Bravo. Now we are really understanding each other,” she said, sitting at the table when he arrived.

They dined by candlelight and starlight. Then they went up the stairs to the upper terrace and entered the living room. They walked to the pool table and sat together on a leather couch.

“Did you notice how she looked at me?” she asked.

“Do you mean Victoria?” Alexandre asked.

“You men are so slow that you never understand the language between women. Did she notice my kiss in your pocket?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s not one of those who check pockets.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“You can’t know,” she said.

“We don’t keep secrets from each other,” Alexandre said and at that moment he realized that he was indeed a liar, because he needed to lie to Victoria to protect her.

“So, are you a liar or not?” she asked again with a smile that was somewhere between mischievous and diabolical.

“No,” he said and became nervous when he saw that she was holding back a laugh. It seems like she’s reading my thoughts! He thought, a little scared. He grasped that she had a hidden power over him.

“Do you love her?” she asked.

“Like nothing in the world,” he replied and thought, And I’m not lying.

“And you loved Ronald?”

“He was the most honest and brave man. How no to love him?” Alexandre answered.

She swallowed, her eyes watered, there was silence and she thought, Maybe if I had known him sooner, I would have been able to love him.

“What did you know about him?” Alexandre asked.

“Nothing, I met him after his death. I have read everything about his life.”

“Why?”

“Because I saw the news about his accident and he seemed like an interesting man.”

“Ronald was the smartest man in the world, as much or more than me” Alexandre said.

“More than you,” she said, looking away.

“Dessert is ready,” one of the waiters warned.

“Shall we?” she asked him and when she got up stumbled. He hugged her with his arm around her waist. He brought her body closer to his and they both remained motionless, looking into each other’s eyes. Her perfume permeated his bones, her white teeth were exposed, her red lips opened and the kiss was imminent.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” she said walking away, “I slip everywhere!” she added flirtatiously.

They continued looking into each other’s eyes, suddenly she grabbed his head and kissed him. It was a kiss that was neither too long nor too short, an act calculated so that he had no time to react and left him motionless and stunned.

“Oh! I’m sorry! I could not avoid it!” she said blushing. “I got rouge on you! Let me clean you up!” she added, sitting on the edge of the sofa to clean the rouge of her lips, exposing her beautiful legs in her short dress.

While she was wiping her lips, he too lost his balance and rested his hand on her thigh, a little above her knee. He wanted to kiss her and his hand slowly started to rise.

“I love your hands,” she said, walking away elegantly. “Oh! Our dessert is getting cold! Let’s go, follow me!” and she went out to a small table decorated with candles with two fruit salads and candies accompanied by champagne.

He was still stunned when they finished the dessert they ate in silence. The kiss moved him deeply, but it wasn’t just the kiss, it was much more. He felt that not only desire her, but he loved her, because of that halo of mystery that bewitched him. He also loved Victoria and she was the woman he admired the most. He wouldn’t trade her for anyone, but Francisca was fascinating and she had him captive under her magic.

When they finished their coffee, Yellow appeared.

“The helicopter is ready,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“Are you leaving so soon?” Alexandre asked.

“I’m sorry, I have to go back to Rome and you need to rest. Tomorrow, you have a long day of work with them,” she added, getting up from the table. She hugged him from behind for long seconds, too many, as if she had known him all his life and she didn’t want to leave him for fear of losing him and she thought, Could this wonder be true? We will see!

“I think I know you a little better now, but you lied to me. Leave your clothes on the bed in the suite or take them with you if you want. Maybe I will love you a lot,” she said and kissed him on the cheek and then left quickly. He didn’t even get to say goodbye. He felt overwhelmed.

He thought, What did I lie to you about? Oh, I know! You know I can’t tell Victoria about this! Everyone knew that he disappeared and disconnected his cell phone once a month. He thought, They know I’m disappearing, but they don’t know why. They won’t know, least of all Victoria. “I have to protect her,” he murmured out loud.

When he heard the helicopter leave, he didn’t know if he had dreamed the dinner with Francisca or it had really happened, and he kept every moment in his memory.

“I’ll wake you up at nine. They will arrive early and you will have breakfast at ten. Good night,” Yellow said and left after taking him to his room.

Meeting Francisca had been a devastating event, and he fell asleep somewhere between bewildered, delighted and scared, remembering that night and Victoria’s look of distrust on the day of the funeral.

The next morning Ricardo arrived early. They were in a very good mood having breakfast ready to continue with the book.

“How did Francisca treat you?” Ricardo asked and thought, Looks like she arrowed him.

“Well, uh… she’s a… fascinating woman,” Alexandre said with a perplexed look. “Did you send her to her funeral so she could leave me her note?” Alexandre asked.

“What note are you talking about?” Ricardo asked.

“The note she put in my pocket on the day of the funeral. Did you tell him to do that?”

“No. I just told her to talk to you. I wanted to do it, but she insisted,” said Ricardo and thought, Wow! She did it her way!

“When did you meet her?” Alexandre asked.

“After a couple of days after his accident.”

“Where?”

“On the street.”

“On the street?”

“Yes, when I was leaving the gym. She told me she would help write Ronald’s book on the condition that we didn’t ask questions.”

“Why did you trust her?”

“I had a hunch,” Ricardo responded.

“Last night he told me this was his house,” Alexandre said.

“She is the daughter of Ragnar Walker, a rich and famous businessman in Norway,” said Ricardo.

When Arturo arrived, they sat in the living room next to the pool table. Francisca had a whiteboard and markers for them to write notes, and so they began the second meeting.

Arturo told them that he had ordered a tetrahedron made three meters high. He had commissioned it from a sculptor. He would make it in graphene and put it in the garden of his house in Buenos Aires.

“I made one too and put it in the living room of my apartment. It is a beautiful sculpture that I also have in my mind. The tetrahedron, is about metaphysics; today, we will study epistemology,” said Alexandre.

“Epistemolo… what?” Arthur asked jokingly.

“Epistemology. ‘Episteme’ means knowledge, and ‘logy’ means study. ‘Epistemology’ is the study of how we learn,” Alexandre said.

“And couldn’t they invent a more complicated word?” Arturo asked, shaking his head.

“It seems there is no other,” Alexandre replied.

“And what is the point of learning how we learn?” Arturo asked.

“Actually, it is about knowing how we form the concepts with which we think. We can’t live without making decisions, right? We can’t decide without thinking, right? We can’t think without using concepts, right? So, if you can differentiate the correct-formed concepts from the incorrect-formed ones, you will always be able to know where you are standing on the field, in the field of reality where you play the game of your life,” Alexandre said.

“That interests me! If it helps to know if you are standing correctly on the game field or not, then I want to dominate that ball,” said Arturo.

Alexandre read the summary for that meeting. He told them that before speaking, children perceive, therefore, sensory perceptions were the basis of concepts. But children also imagined and it was important to make the difference between percepts and fancepts. The first, were perceptions of real things; the latter, perceptions of imagined fantasies.

“But of course! You can’t score a goal in the real world by kicking an imaginary ball in a fantasy world!” Arturo exclaimed.

“So, why is it important to differentiate concepts that contain percepts from those that contain fancepts?” Alexandre asked.

“To differentiate when you are thinking with your head on the Moon, from when you are thinking with your feet on the Earth,” Ricardo said.

“Exactly! Anyone who thinks with their head on the Moon cannot score goals on Earth!” said Alexandre and added, “Whoever thinks with concepts that contain fancepts can only score goals in their fantasy world, but they get angry when reality ignores them. Physical laws of reality itself, does not validate fantasies that ignores reality,” Ricardo said.

“They are crazy!” Arturo exclaimed and remembered what he had once said to a group of teenagers who hoped to succeed without trying, Do you think it was free? No! I had to bust my balls for years to reach the top! Tie your chariot to a star, do not lose hope, but, make an effort and be constant!

Thus, they continued learning epistemology and making metaphors. They had lunch and then went to the football field that was next to the mansion. They wanted to kick around for a while.

“Freedom comes from focusing the lens of your mental camera!” Arturo said as he hit the ball with a long pass.

“Why?” Ricardo asked as he received it on the chest and returned it with a high pass to the center.

“To differentiate the damn fancepts from the percepts!” Arturo shouted from a distance. “If you don’t focus your mind, you can’t choose; if you cannot choose, you are not free; if you are not free, you better shoot yourself,” he added, jumping and heading the ball that went towards the corner of the goal where goalkeeper Alexandre could not reach.

“Goal!” Arturo shouted and while he laughed, he thought, And this time God didn’t use his hand.

Back in the living room they played a game of pool and continued the conversation. They touched on functional self-deception, which was another complicated word. Psychologists used it to refer to evasion, that is, the decision to tell lies to yourself to avoid seeing reality. They laughed a lot when Arturo mimed a goalkeeper who closed his eyes to avoid a goal. “If I don’t see the ball, it doesn’t exist! if I close my eyes, it disappears! Magic!” he said and began to laugh out loud, infecting them with laughter to the point of tears.

They thought they were done when Arturo brought up the subject of philosophy professors. Alexandre continued recording what Arturo added.

“Some of these idiots say that the ball is fake, because you can’t see its atoms; others that you cannot trust your sight, because you see as you see; others that to know the world “as it is”, it is necessary to know it without sensory organs. They are all crazy!” he exclaimed with his Argentine accent, making the typical Argentine-Italian gesture of joining the tips of the fingers and moving the hands.

“Kant even said that the ball does not exist because you are seeing it,” said Ricardo.

Thus, they continued commenting and playing pool until they headed to their respective rooms to rest for the next day.

When Alexandre woke up, he remembered Francisca. Her spell seemed to grow with each passing hour and it began to torment him. He decided to put it out of his head, but that made him sad. He felt trapped.

At breakfast they talked about the topic of choosing a long-term productive purpose and how vital it was to achieving true self-esteem.

“When I was little boy, my goal in life was to accomplish a feat, that’s why I became great,” said Arturo, telling them some details of his childhood when he had decided to be the best football player in the world. He added that it was sad to live life without a long-term goal, because it was like playing the game of your life without a goal where to score goals.

They spent several hours discussing the themes of the book and making all kinds of metaphors.

When they finished, they had lunch. Shortly after Yellow appeared to transport Alexandre. He said goodbye and made sure to bring the recorder. He had a lot of work ahead to summarize everything discussed and put it as a chapter in the book.

The helicopter took him directly to the Rome airport and, after the trip, at five in the afternoon he was already in his apartment in Barcelona.