"Michael Ende - Momo" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ende Michael)

one moment to the next, or shy people felt suddenly confident and at ease, or downhearted people felt
happy and hopeful. And if someone felt that his life had been an utter failure, and that he himself was only
one among millions of wholly unimportant people who could be replaced as easily as broken
windowpanes, he would go and pour out his heart to Momo. And, even as he spoke, he would come to
realize by some mysterious means that he was absolutely wrong: that there was only one person like
himself in the whole world, and that, consequently, he mattered to the world in his own particular way.
Such was Momo's talent for listening.

One day, Momo received a visit from two close neighbours who had quarrelled violently and
weren't on speaking terms. Their friends had urged them to "go and see Momo" because it didn't do for
neighbours to live at daggers drawn. After objecting at first, the two men had reluctantly agreed.
One of them was the bricklayer who had built Momo's stove and painted the pretty flower
picture on her wall. Salvatore by name, he was a strapping fellow with a black moustache that curled up
at the ends. The other, Nino, was skinny and always looked tired. Nino ran a small inn on the outskirts of
town, largely patronized by a handful of old men who spent the entire evening reminiscing over one glass
of wine. Nino and his plump wife, Liliana, were also friends of Momo's and had often brought her good
things to eat.
So there the two men sat, one on each side of the stone arena, silently scowling at nothing in
particular.
When Momo saw how angry with each other they were, she couldn't decide which one of them
to approach first. Rather than offend either of them, she sat down midway between them on the edge of
the arena and looked at each in turn, waiting to see what would happen. Lots of things take time, and
time was Momo's only form of wealth.
After the two of them had sat there in silence for minutes on end, Salvatore abruptly stood up.
"I'm off," he announced. "I've shown my good will by coming here, but the man's as stubborn as a mule,
Momo, you can see that for yourself." And he turned on his heel.
"Goodbye and good riddance!" Nino called after him. "You needn't have bothered to come in the
first place. I wouldn't make it up with a vicious brute like you."
Salvatore swung around, puce with rage. "Who's a vicious brute?" he demanded menacingly,
retracing his steps. "Say that again -- if you dare!"
"As often as you like!" yelled Nino. "I suppose you think you're too big and tough for anyone to
speak the truth to your face. Well, I will -- to you and anyone else that cares to listen. That's right, come
here and murder me the way you tried to the other day!"
"I wish I had!" roared Salvatore, clenching his fists. "There you are, Momo, you see the dirty lies
he tells? All I did was take him by the scruff of the neck and dunk him in the pool of slops behind that
lousy inn of his. You couldn't even drown a rat in that." Readdressing himself to Nino, he shouted, "Yes,
you're still alive and kicking, worse luck!"
Insults flew thick and fast after that, and for a while Momo was at a loss to know what it was all
about and why the pair of them were so furious with each other. It transpired, by degrees, that
Salvatore's only reason for assaulting Nino was that Nino had slapped his face in the presence of some
customers, though Nino counterclaimed that Salvatore had previously tried to smash all his crockery.
"That's another dirty lie!" Salvatore said angrily. "I only threw a jug at the wall, and that was
cracked already."
"Maybe," Nino retorted, "but it was my jug. You had no right to do such a thing."
Salvatore protested that he had every right, seeing that Nino had cast aspersions on his
professional skill. He turned to Momo. "Know what he said about me? He said I couldn't build a wall
straight because I was drunk twenty-four hours a day. My greatgrandfather was the same, he said, and
he'd helped to build the Leaning Tower of Pisa."
"But Salvatore," said Nino, "I was only joking."
"Some joke," growled Salvatore. "Very funny, I don't think!"