Above us were high brick vaults, open to the sky in places, and looking up you could see the starry heavens, divided into circles, ellipses, and triangles, like one of those maps showing the trajectories of the planets. We were looking around when in the silence we heard someone knocking on glass and a monk appeared at a lighted window. “What do you want?” he said in a soft, kindly voice.

“Which floor is God?” I said. Graziano, in the shadows, laughed quietly. The monk was silent for a moment, not sure how to respond, then jerked his thumb upward. “In the attic,” he said, “but he’s asleep right now. Do you want me to tell him anything?”

“Yes,” Graziano said, “tell him we looked for him but couldn’t find him. Now it’s up to him to find us.”

“Try to come here during the day,” the monk said. “Now go, but remember to close the door. Good night.”

“Did you hear the brother? He knew a thing or two,” Graziano said when we were back outside. “Where do you think we can find a taxi? I’m at the end of my tether.” When we found one, we collapsed onto the seats. Graziano started humming the Presley song. “Man, what a giant!” he said every now and again. “There’s never been anyone else like him, right, Leo? You know what we’re going to do now? We’re going to Sandie’s, we’ll wake her up and tell her she has to finance our movie.”

“She’ll shoot us down.”

“No she won’t,” he said. “She’s a woman of the world, didn’t you know that? She knows I’m the man of the house. In a way, at least. And besides, there are no guns in the place.”

There was no need to wake her. Sandie was up, and didn’t even let us in past the entryway, which was almost entirely occupied by a Ping-Pong table. Graziano looking as wrecked as he did merely increased her anger. Where had we been? What had we been doing? Sandie’s face was covered with some kind of cream, and there was a kerchief wrapped around her head. She wasn’t at her best, in terms of appearance, but she didn’t care.

I found it hard to defend myself from her attack. Graziano, smiling slyly, had gone and sat down in the one armchair in the room and was looking at us in silence. “Shall we talk seriously?” he said.

“Now’s not the time, Graziano,” I said.

“Talk seriously about what?” Sandie said. “This is serious! Who pays the bills? Who pays the bills all day long? I don’t support your friends, and I want to know who pays the bills.”