Walking in Italy

by Claudio Ruggeri

  I couldn’t fall asleep that afternoon so I remained on the terrace enjoying the sea view, I could get a glimpse of a tiny boat and fisherman below me untangling nets; I always asked myself how could it be a life at sea, always in touch with it, as only other friend the Sun, that as time goes by changes your face until turning it into a living proof of the work you’ve done.

  A hand suddenly caressing my hips, I turned round and there was Gail smiling, without speaking a word; we got closer, gently, delicately.

  We remained like this for ages, I don’t recall time went by till a large ship left for sea from Salerno’s harbor crossed our horizon.

  ‘You know, Massimo, one time I worked on one of those ships?’

  ‘Really, what was your job there?’

  ‘I was a simple waitress, I didn’t have a dime till one day this occasion appeared, I had three hours to decide the girl appointed didn’t arrive and they were desperate for a substitute...’.

  ‘I stayed for months...’she ended.

  Then we were exchanging stares and kisses, hearing Corinna snoring, we didn’t mind about that.

  Undershirts and underwear, our bodies touching lightly again and again, every kiss became more intense, when I kisses her breast she moaned, when my attention was drawn by the nipple she arched her back leaning on the window sill no one could have seen us, nobody seemed to be there, just us, on that terrace on the top of the cliff we seemed in suspended between sky and sea.

  Every time I opened my eyes I saw the light blue sky surrounding her, this image only made me ecstatic.

  Lowering slightly my lips under her waist I realized how excited she was, of how she wanted to feel me deep in her; I gazed again in her eyes, it was a consent look.

  Everything was happening in such a natural spontaneous way, none of us would have forced the other doing something other than spontaneously.

  I wish that moment didn’t end, we remained in a hug after loving each other, our eyes explained everything, no need for words.

  In time I would have remembered that moment, and every time in my life I came across making love for distraction, solitude or only because I needed to demonstrate somehow, something.

  The day came to its end, we showered in turns talking away between a damp towel and some shampoo itching eyes.

  Gail told me, when I came near her bed where we slept the night before.

  Shampoo was really overly done, here’s why those red eyes she had! She asked some of mine and carelessly handed it to her.

  The restaurant the porter indicated wasn’t that far after a narrow lane we reached the entrance door and a smiling waiter welcomed us making us comfortable.

  The tables were dotting the beach, on the shore, once we sat down we could admire the two fiords standing out high at the sides of the restaurant, it was like being nestled below two small mountains.

  We had a world of laughs ordering dishes presented in Neapolitan on the menu, of many we couldn’t figure out if it meat or fish dishes.

  Candle lit tables no other light on the beach on that night.

  Between a calamari and a mullet I slightly turned on my right noticing someone trying to catch my attention from behind a restaurant pillar.

  Despite the dark, Emiliano’s nose was hard not to recognize, my friend arrived a bit earlier to be honest but I didn’t care.

  ‘Aho' how much you’re scruffling?’, so he greeted us, my companion when I reached him, after rolling out the typical alibi of the bathroom to the girls.

  ‘Ahahaha...’ I went madly laughing.

  ‘Massi, have you got other dishes on the way?’

  ‘Yes, we asked for fried fish as a side dish, look the waiter serving us is him...’ I said indicating the boy leaning on the counter, seeming to write a bill for some table.

  I sat down again laughing under whiskers and try to hide about Emiliano’s arrival.

  I wondered how Corinna would have felt when she saw him, as said, she didn’t mention anything for all those days about him, but her expression was telling a different story.

  I already imagined how my friend would have introduced himself and in fact...

  ‘Is the fried fish for you?’

  Hearing those words Corinna jumped, even if she still didn’t realize why.

  Emiliano had lent a waiter livery and came to our table with the dish in his hand sparkled with the largest smile of all.

  Corinna jumped hugging him without a word, she remained this way, for a couple of minutes, silently.

  Seeing him, with his face leaning on the girl’s shoulder, I understood just how happy he was too, our surprise wasn’t only a scene.

  Once comfortable we carried on with our dinner, half the fried fish was gladly on the floor after the embrace.

  ‘Gosh how fast you drove down to get here Emilià...’

  ‘At six o’clock I had already closed the bar , at nine I was driving along the Costiera road to Vietri...’laughing confessed.

  ‘I also managed to find a substitute for tomorrow so I’m free till four in the afternoon...’ he continued.

  The Americans did not speak anymore, I guess they knew not even what to think.

  ‘What about hitting Amalfi for a beer?’ was Emiliano’s idea followed by my fast translation.

  We were all enthusiastic about it so we rushed, paid the bill and got in the car Y10.

  Suddenly that melancholy came over me, such beautiful days we spent together, so many emotions, I couldn’t concentrate on what we were doing such as parking maneuvers or the barman’s questions on which beer we’d like to drink etc. etc, my first though directed at the coming day to that halt at Capodichino’s airport.

  Once in the town’s center I remembered that at midnight after a few minutes, the 2oth of August was coming, Gail’s birthday.

  I asked Emiliano to ask at the shop in front of us if he knew some flower stand, speaking Italian among us, so we could speak openly.

  I saw him disappear inside the shop, and, when he reappeared e was laughing madly, I was just so curious to know why but he anticipated my question.

  ‘There no flowers shop in Amalfi the owner said...’

  ‘Damn it...’I thought now I have to find another way for Gail’s birthday surprise.

  ‘But do you know what that man reading the newspaper suggested?’

  ‘No tell me...’

  ‘He told me I can always get away with stealing one of those plants sitting outside the shops’...

  ‘Ahahahah...in some Southern areas you can always find an answer to every single question, invention and surprise overcomes the means at hand, in all fields... probably it’s the reason why I always loved and remembered whoever come from below Rome.

  Having taken into account that was impossible to find a bunch of roses we weren’t so at ease anyway in stealing plants from Amalfi’s center.

  Soon after though I spotted a little shop selling limoncello, it was specialized in it, he sold all kinds of bottles in all sizes for every pocket.

  I parted for a moment from the group and I bought one for ten thousand liras together with a gift card, on which I wrote greetings clichés in Italian though; at least every time Gail took the card in her hand she would have reminded me, at our vacation.

  Realizing she was making great progress in Italian she soon learned the word beautiful ‘bellissimo’, repeating it here and there, she used it instead of ‘Ok fine’, I imagined she messed around between the two.

  Midnight was approaching when I came out of the shop and joined them again, being well very careful not to show what was in my bag.

  After a few minutes I gave it to her, and seeing that little present wrapped she didn’t figure out the reason for it I had to remind her wishing her a happy birthday.

  A clear surprise painted on her face, and on mine to be honest, after all I imagined she could have expected a little present being her day tomorrow.

  Evident fact in America it’s not that usual.

  As w
ell as her expression she acted differently, there was thanking in the way she continued kissing me when we moved on the little bridge, and in the way she held my hand gazing in my eyes.

  It was a ‘thank you’ to be still a gentleman even if our affair was reaching its end, nothing more to ask from our affair I kept behaving like nothing had happened just what was expected from someone like me.

  This was my interpretation anyway.

  Seeming all surreal when we got back to our hotel being well aware to let Emiliano in from the backyard; the air was filled with unspoken words that evening.

  We were trying to lift our moods on the terrace each one in its own place we also had a special bottle fit for purpose on that occasion... stolen by Emiliano in his own bar...

  We called it a night! The light shade of blue of the afternoon letting the night’s intense deep blue over and around us always suspended between the sky horizon and the sea.

  ‘Sure if...if someone told me Sunday where I’d be today...’ considering in a low voice, Emiliano caught it.

  ‘I must tell it one day’ he replied.

  ‘Maybe one day we’ll write a book on it...’ at this point we cracked out laughing.

  We went on a bit more drinking good wine, self-ironic.

  When Corinna held Emiliano’s hand to show him their room, I remained with Gail; over us the sky seemed to be a of stars, and every now and then one shoot across the sky, like fired up meteors lighting up the sky.

  During that time of year the Costiera is extraordinary also for those natural events, great mountains behind it hide the city lights, and the starry sky’s panorama is breathtaking.

  At that sight we couldn’t help but cuddle up together sure for now nothing would unsettle us.

  But this time making love was impossible, melancholy hidden for all this time appeared fiercely, suddenly, and we started weeping like children holding each other.

  Our faces wet with teardrops we caressed each other, staring at each other without speaking a word, interrupted by some hysterical laughter in those precious moments.

  Pointless to explain certain thing, I don’t believe any literary art able to do it, and it’s right as it is.

  Human relations creating situations, complicity for the fact of being ‘private’ thus exclusive, they hold this kind of particular all in all copyright, not allowing words to explain or picture them.

  Also when it seems someone has explained it all, really, there’s always more to say; in 2010 a millions of people are ready to place their private life at everybody’s disposal, in social media, on newspapers or simply speaking out in one of the many squares of hidden and lost towns throughout the World.

  You might have an impression to know always everything, every detail of others’ lives , it always remains instead a hidden corner , private, that you may see through knowing deeply someone.

  Thursday 20th August

  I’d have preferred to say I woke on that morning, some hours of deserved sleep, but it wasn’t the case.

  Accomplice a bed too small for two, I spent the last hours of the night embracing Gail, caressing her once in a while, she was pretending to sleep.

  The ringing alarm clock was needed at eight that morning, to break the ice, to come back to a normal state; to allow us to focus on more practical thing just like packing up our suitcases, wash, get information on breakfast.

  From the semi-room, what would have been a storage closet of a great villa that the hotel once was, before being divided in many rooms, I moved in the proper room, with the double bed where Emiliano and Corinna were sleeping; I walked across to get to the hall to make sure to the porter to prepare some warm brioches.

  Passing by the undone bed, I found them still embraced fast asleep.

  I leaned over the terrace and smoked a cigarette announcing the boy that all us four would have come up soon, and I pointed the table where we would have had a sumptuous breakfast.

  I wasn’t that hungry really, but this habit stayed with me since I worked as a hotel porter , the customer leaving never does it on an empty stomach, instead eats more than what he could bear at home.

  I made a couple of phone calls one of those at home to let them know I was back on the same day and returned to our room, trying to smile, It was a matter of doing it for just some more time.

  Another job I would have made a fortune and I never did was the professional actor.

  We arranged our stuff in the car before heading for the terrace, breakfast lasted only the time to sip a coffee and we were done, Emiliano and Corinna headed for the road some minutes before us.

  ‘Anyway...happy birthday Gail..’

  ‘Thanks...Bellissimo...

  ‘What will you do now getting back home?’

  I hope to find a new job, the firm for which I was working closed down just a few weeks before leaving for Europe so...at the moment I’m out of work’ I noticed with pleasure that certain thing didn’t belong only to our Country.

  ‘Then I’d like to return to an old passion of mine, my mother years ago told me what a big mistake you’re doing to give up’ I kept on listening.

  ‘I used to sing in my younger years, I never stepped on great stages but if I’d kept on maybe...’ I assure you that wasn’t hard to believe at all.

  So what happened to make you quit?’ spontaneously asking.

  ‘It happens when everybody starts telling you serious things in life are other matters, important, you end up believing...’

  Sighing, she continued, after a few moments.

  ‘Until you realize what is really important for you, what gave you joy...well you’ve only slightly touched and that’s all’.

  The journey to Naples was along, emotional, farewell.

  27th July 2010 (evening)

  ‘It’s ended this way?’ suddenly I asked Massimo, trying to drive away from him his heavy thoughts.

  ‘Yes, for me, Corinna and Emiliano still live together...’

  ‘What?’

  Well, yes, after a month she was back in the States she couldn’t help giving everything up and boarded a plane to Fiumicino, Heading for Rome, she came alone this time...for me it went differently...’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I realized it was something overwhelming, I kept on thinking at the many difficulties for me and Gail to live together, even for a short time, they would have spoiled everything’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’ll never know now, but I want to remember our experience just as it is, as it went, in the same way I told you’.

  Stacking chairs up next to us reminded the two of us the Cafe was closing, Giovanni, the owner of ‘Monachini’ bar with opened arms to excuse him, for him the time for his deserved dinner was next.

  Said goodbye to my friend Massimo, I lit up a fag and was homebound slow pace, returning to the story told me in my mind; I haven’t heard one as such for quite some time one really about feelings, what they can move inside and around you and just how every decision becomes so difficult when they are the core of situations. The plot of the story.

  I gave a quick look at the clock and I noticed it was just past eight, so my steps were faster now.

  At home standing at the door trying to find the right key I suddenly remembered we were expecting relatives for dinner, those laughs coming from inside the house was the clue. I anticipated my mother’s disapproval having being late to receive our guests.

  She is like this, cares for appearances, exactly what I don’t care at all.

  ‘Good evening Mr. Claudio!’ ironically my aunt greeted me as I came in.

  ‘Hi Bruna, long time no seeing...thanks for Mr...’.

  We have been waiting for you for nearly two hours...’

  ‘I was at the bar...’

  ‘Should I believe it?’ in an alluding way of asking...

  ‘Sure he does...’ my mother continued:’He tells you he goes to the Sport Café for a coffee and you don’t see him for the whole aftern
oon...’

  ‘This is what he tells you...’ aunt Bruna replied.

  While I was stepping in the garden I turned round answering both of them: ‘It’s exactly true, you go in for a coffee and you might meet a friend, talking away time flies...casually’.

  Yes, casually; in the same way you might go out an evening with a friend eating out a steak, then instead...

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