by Renee Ryder
This analgesic effect did not only have to do with Nico, though. Roger and Susan contributed almost equally, happy to see her enjoy her vacation and appreciative that she’d thought of them in bringing food back from the festival. While Roger liked the homemade bread, Susan was in love with the heirloom tomatoes. Before they finished unpacking them from the bag, she sent Roger out to go buy some fresh mozzarella and basil, anxious to make a caprese salad – an appetizer before the saraghi from Nico – and try out some of the flavors they had learned about in their cooking lesson.
During dinner, both wanted to hear all about her day and she gladly took them through it, from the trip on the Vespa to the festival to the walk in the woods, leaving out only the hanging clothes—she didn’t want to sound strange—and the solidification of her friendship with Nico. She didn’t omit it from any sort of disrespect to Ryan and, knowing Susan, would surely not have been criticized for it. However, Susan was becoming the friend/mother that she’d always wanted, and considering she wasn’t as open with her as she was with Nico, it seemed wiser to skip that part of the story.
In the end, what should have been a tragic Wednesday because of Ryan’s absence had somehow turned into the best day she’d had in Italy.
18. Pippo
“Okay, Pippo. After I finish this beer, I’m ’na go ’cause I’m wiped out.”
“Fuck, it ain’t even ten! What, ya gotta go drink your milk before daddy tucks ya in?”
“I gotta get a few hours of sleep ’cause he checked the weather and wants to go out tonight at three.”
“Then drink slow. Or if ya really gotta go, jus’ spit out what’s on your mind.”
“Huh?”
“Oh c’mon, Nico! I saw ya on the Vespa today with that hot piece of ass.”
“…”
“Blond braid ring a bell?”
“…”
“Who is she? From ’round here? She had on a helmet so I didn’t get a good look at her face … But I saw she had a sweet ass, hahaha!”
“Hey, keep it down! The people on that other bench can hear you.”
“So what? We ain’t in church! It’s a public park and I ca— No, wait. C’mon, get back here. I’ll be more quieter.”
“…”
“Oh, get over it, Ni’. Tonight Marika is at her aunt’s ’n I ain’t got shit to do. If ya go now I’m jus’ gonna end up at the slot machines.”
“Then watch yourself, ’cause I don’t wanna look like an asshole.”
“So, what? Who is she?”
“A tourist.”
“A tourist? And?”
“I met her Monday.”
“Where’s she from?”
“She’s American.”
“Fuck me! An American?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And how d’you talk? It ain’t like ya speak English.”
“She speaks Italian.”
“Ah, ya lucked out! So how is she, any good?”
“How would I know?”
“Huh? Ya known an American for three days and ain’t fucked ’er yet?”
“…”
“C’mon, Ni’. That sucks! If ya need help, jus’ tell me.”
“I need time. I’m working on her.”
“But you ain’t got nowhere in three days?”
“Of course I have.”
“Did she give you some head?”
“What the fuck, man! I told ya to keep it down!”
“Did she give you some head?”
“We kissed.”
“Kissed?”
“…”
“Muah, muah, muah, how sweet!”
“Fuck off, Pi’. I got jus’ some tongue action ’cause she’s got a boyfriend.”
“Oh, a boyfriend. From ’round here?”
“No, he’s American, too.”
“So instead ’a takin’ her out, he sends her off with a fisherman she only known for three days?!”
“He’s not here. He’s in the U.S. She came with his parents.”
“Are ya fuckin’ kidding me?”
“It’s weird to me, too. Guess it’s normal for them.”
“So lemme get this straight. This nice piece of ass is here in Porto Loreno, without her boyfriend, goes out with you … and the only thing ya get up to is sticking your tongue in her mouth?”
“I told ya, I’m working on her.”
“But what’s the problem? Got no place to go?”
“Huh?”
“She got the parents at her place, you got your dad at yours. How ’bout the storage room?”
“It reeks like fish in there.”
“True ’nuff. Whatever, I’m jus’ talking bullshit. You’ll find somewhere. Five or six years ago, I screwed some girl behind that tree over there, heh heh.”
“In the daytime?”
“Yeah right, the cops would of got me for pubic indecency.”
“I only see her during the day. In the evening she’s gotta eat dinner with the parents.”
“And in the day, how’s she get away from them? What does she come up with?”
“She don’t come up with nothin’. She tells ’em she’s comin’ with me.”
“Tells the guy’s parents?!”
“Seeing as how she speaks Italian but still makes some mistakes, she tells ’em she’s practicing with a real Italian.”
“Ah she wants to practice with the tongue …”
“Hahaha!”
“Fuckin’ Americans. They’re so weird.”
“She even introduced me to them.”
“Oh! What a tricky bitch! That way it’ll look like there ain’t nuthin’ ’a hide.”
“…”
“ ’N these parents, they’re real open minded, right? Or else why the fuck would they let her go off with some stranger?”
“I dunno, Pi’. He seems like a tough guy, but pretty down to earth. This morning he gave us a hand gettin’ the boat up on shore. She seems kinda high society, like classy and elegant. And weird.”
“Whatcha mean, weird?”
“When I talked to her, she was nice. Smiling. But somehow she makes me feel like she’s crazy rich and I’m fuckin’ poor.”
“Oh, stuck up.”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Is she old?”
“No. Probably in her mid-forties.”
“Huh! Those cougars really turn me on … they’re the dirtiest ones.”
“How would you know?”
“How would I know? Hahaha! It’s a mathematical fact.”
“Mathematical? I think that beer went to your head.”
“Nico! Do I gotta to teach you everything?”
“…”
“It’s mathematical ’cause at that age they start to fall apart, if they ain’t already. In that condition, with an ass that ain’t firm and floppy tits, they don’t make men horny. So when ya get with one of ’em, they take no prisoners.”
“I wouldn’t know. I never been with someone that much older than me.”
“Ya gotta try it. Hey, let’s go on a double date! You can bang the mom and I’ll take care ’a the girl.”
“And the husband’ll ream us both.”
“Hahaha!”
“But why, you sure never been with a woman that age. Or have ya?”
“ ’Course I have. I ain’t jus’ makin’ shit up.”
“Pippo, get the fuck outta here!”
“I swear it’s true! It only happened to me twice, but it’s true.”
“Then how come ya never told me? Kinda weird ya jus’ remember now.”
“It ain’t like I tell you every time I bang someone! Some I don’t even remember.”
“I know you’ve ‘banged’ a lot, but ya don’t gotta sneak some lies into your story.”
“Know that jewelry store across from the movies?”
“Yeah.”
“Ya know the jeweler’s wi
fe?”
“No.”
“She ain’t really his wife ’cause they were splitting up. But they were married for like ten years … Anyway. Four months ago, Fabio sends me to this lady jeweler’s house ’cause she’d called the office ’bout her washer not emptying. I get there and she’s in her robe. She takes me to the bathroom where the washer is, and while I’m unclogging the pipe she goes to make me some coffee. She brings it to me and she still got that robe on. By then, the message is clear. I pretend not to get it, ’cause I could be wrong. You know, if I fuck up with this rich bitch, who’s married and like twice my age, Fabio’d kick my ass. So I let her make the first move. We talk some. Then, I’m explaining the problem with the washer, ’cause there were somma those color catcher sheets that got stuck underneath it in the motor fan, and she bends over to see. Pretty much shoved her tits in my face. So I tell her she smells good. She goes all red and giggles. Next thing ya know, we’re going at it doggy style on the floor. I’m behind her for a little while and then she goes to suck me off. Fuck, it was the longest blow job I’ve ever had! Almost half an hour. She knew exactly what to do, when to go slow or fast … Matter ’a fact, it was so good I wasn’t even looking at her body. At the end, she didn’t even move away when I shot it right in her face. She laughed, and while she was licking her fingers she said, ‘It’s a noble protein,’ hahaha!”
“Noble protein?”
“I dunno what the fuck she meant. That’s what she said.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember that movie. I saw it on YouPorn.”
“The fuck it was a movie!”
“You work out, plus you’re a plumber … I bet you picked a movie that went like ‘Hello, ma’am. I’m here to check out your pipes …’ ”
“You motherfucker. If ya don’t believe me, go ahead, ask around ’bout the lady jeweler. Ask Pietro, Giò, Enrico, Cecco. Ask people I don’t even know. I don’t care. By now she got a real reputation for it. I wasn’t the first and won’t be the last.”
“It’s the same thing. Jus’ ’cause she’s got that reputation don’t mean you did it.”
“Bullshit. Now you’re gonna make me go back and do her again so I can get a video of it. By now she’s divorced.”
“Was the divorce ’cause ’a you?”
“Me?! No! After we were done we started talking. She tol’ me her husband cheated on her a ton ’a times. So she gets back at him. I didn’t see her again, though. At the time I was with that bitch Monica. A fuck here and there was fine, but goin’ between two women’d be too messy.”
“Oh. I thought ya saw her for awhile!”
“Naw, jus’ hit it and quit it.”
“Even more reason it only happened in your dreams.”
“Oh yeah? Then ya know what I’m ’a do? This week I’m ’a run into her by accident. Ya better be ready, ’cause I’m ’a call you instead ’a doin’ a video. I bet she’d be into a three way.”
“C’mon, give it up already.”
“No. I told ya I’m ’a screw her again, and I’m ’a do it.”
“And Marika? I thought ya liked her?”
“ ’Course, I like her.”
“So shouldn’t ya be faithful to her?”
“Faithful? A dog is faithful.”
“…”
“Ni’, she said she’s goin’ to her aunt’s but wha’ do I know.”
“Why not go check?”
“How can I check? If she wants some other guy to bang her, she’ll find a way. I ain’t gonna play detective.”
“Still, Pi’. Jus’ ’cause the jeweler lady cheats don’t mean they all do.”
“They do, they do. Truss me on this one. It ain’t like they turn forty and ain’t got needs no more. ’Member our teacher, Miss Costa?”
“ ’Course I do. She always made us sit up front by her ’cause we’d get in trouble. Why, d’ja do her, too?”
“Ni’, she gotta be sixty by now. But I heard back in school the principal was bangin’ her. And Sandro the janitor was, too.”
“Sandro?”
“That’s what I heard.”
“No, I can’t see her with him. She had class, and that guy looked old and stank like wine.”
“Exactly why I’m telling ya this. Even she had needs and Sandro coulda had a big schlong.”
“Hmph.”
“I dunno ’bout that, but when I see her on the street and think ’bout those stories and how hot she was, I’d hit that even now.”
“Pippo, I gotta tell ya. You’re sick.”
“ ’N you’re a dumbass. That’s why ya ain’t got none from the American.”
“…”
“Ni’, ya gotta wake up. The American’s here, by herself, she found an excuse to get out from under the parents, goes all over with ya on the Vespa, let ya stick her tongue in her mouth … fuck, jus’ give it to her! What’re ya waitin’ for? She gotta draw ya a picture?”
“Yeah, draw me a picture …”
19. Scary Pranks
Hannah felt like she was filming a remake of the day before; seated behind Nico on his Vespa, hair braided under a helmet, backpack on her shoulders, riding into the hills. And like all remakes, a few things varied from the original.
The backpack. Empty the first time on the way to the festival, now filled with her drawing tools and hat. Nico had also brought along a picnic lunch of some drinks and sandwiches wrapped in foil for when she took a break, although he’d set this bag on the Vespa’s floorboard from fear of crushing her hat.
The clothes. He had on his usual jeans and T-shirt, but red today instead of blue. She wore cotton shorts and a sleeveless, pale yellow top.
The road. Like yesterday, it climbed for miles, but this one had some very steep sections that strained the engine of his dad’s old Vespa. For her, the first of these stretches underlined another difference from the day before, on an emotional level.
At one point as they traveled along, the road rose sharply like a launch ramp, and gravity tried to pull her backward. Last time she had held timidly to Nico’s shirt and then asked him to pull over, but today she had no compunction about holding tightly to him. And on the next stretch—a long, inside curve, with a steep grade—the close contact with his body didn’t make her uncomfortable at all. Even a few minutes later, during a brief downhill straightaway at an extreme slope that pressed her chest against his back, none of her worries from twenty-four hours ago even crossed her mind. It was clear, both of them disclosing their “misadventures” with their mothers and holding each other in consolation had broken the ice—earlier than normal—that marks the boundaries of every nascent relationship.
Although, their unexpected spiritual closeness caused her some apprehension. If on one hand she trusted him to the point of not worrying about their physical contact, on the other she felt vulnerable. She’d confided in him things that she could hardly admit to herself and had allowed him to see her cry like a baby. At the time it hadn’t posed a problem because she’d simply followed her instincts. Now, however, she saw the situation in a different light, mostly because of the partially sleepless night—she’d been awake from around two to four, ruminating over what had happened and growing increasingly nervous over seeing him again in a few hours. She felt as though she’d given her house key to a neighbor for watering the plants while she was gone, but after leaving she began thinking of all the things the neighbor could be doing in her house, and a self-preservation impulse reprimanded her for being naive and lacking foresight.
She wanted to be able to tell herself, “Hannah, you have nothing to worry about with Nico,” and so she did, because when you really want something, you convince yourself of it. Therefore, in order to spend a peaceful day together, her strategy came down to two simple, connected ideas. Number one, set aside any doubts or concerns; number two, look carefree and lighthearted.
And in the meantime, they continued heading out to the magnificent overlook that Nico had
promised her.
Every once in a while he commented about something, breaking up the silence that was maybe awkward to him. She replied out of politeness, preferring him to concentrate on driving. When he spoke, he took his eyes off the road and turned towards her, which caused a lump of anxiety to form in her throat. If nothing else, until that moment he hadn’t been as talkative as usual. They kept driving through the silence and solitude—they’d passed very few vehicles on this backroad—so she was able to admire the countryside the road carved through. A range of grassy, inland hills rolled down to the sea, dotted with clumps of trees and wildflowers. Along stretches with breaks between the trees, she could see the gorgeous picture postcard of Porto Loreno and its bay.
“It’s gonna rain,” said Nico all of a sudden.
At first she didn’t think she’d understood correctly given how brightly the sun shone, but after he repeated himself she spotted droplets on the asphalt, as if it were breaking out in chicken pox.
“Usually when it starts like this, a water bomb is coming,” he called over his shoulder.
“A water bomb?”
He pulled over and stopped with his foot on the ground.
“A water bomb’s when a ton of rain all falls at once, instead of over a long while.”
“Oh. We don’t have this at home, because it rains all the time there. So, what do we do now?”
“It’s a problem ’cause around here there’s nowhere to find shelter. A couple of kilome— A mile back we passed an abandoned hotel. We could go in there.”
“You mean, we must go back?”
“I don’t know. It’s a gamble. If the water bomb hits, we’re in trouble. But if it’s just a passing rain cloud, then we’re fine. What do you wanna do?”
She scanned the sky. It didn’t appear as clear as when they’d left, but she also couldn’t see a storm threatening.
“There’s really no place where we could protect ourselves from the rain, just in case?”