It was Milan's first Fede e Luce campout.
Some friends had arrived ahead of us and prepared the house for the rest of the group — cleaning rooms, setting up the kitchen, arranging the common spaces. When we got there that afternoon, the organizers assigned us our places. I ended up in a large room with a dozen beds — six on one side, six on the other — all in the "men's section." My bunk mate was someone I barely knew, though he was well known throughout the parish. People talked about his strange way of walking, his odd habits. In the neighborhood, to put it bluntly, they called him crazy.
I was nervous about sleeping next to him. But someone who knew him well reassured me: "Don't worry. He'll be fine. He'll sleep through the night." Even with that promise, I couldn't sleep. The drive had worn me out, the unpacking, the settling in — but none of that kept me awake. It was thinking about my bunk mate. I was afraid.
Susin slept peacefully that whole night, and now that he knows about my fear, he's probably laughing at me up there.
Sergio, 2000
