by J. J. Kapka
With a touch of chagrin, Maddie realized she liked what she saw. He was a towering six foot five, with all the dark coloring and chiseled Roman features that gave away his Italian heritage. His lips were full and wide, and often curled into an appealing grin. Since he was wearing a lightweight, short-sleeved shirt that hugged his contours, it was also quite obvious that being a gondolier gave a man a pretty good workout. Allowing her eyes to stray for a minute down to his derriere, she discovered that it, too, was taut and compact in the denim cutoffs he was sporting today. So what if he can’t sing?
When Paul looked back and caught her looking at his rear, Maddie couldn’t help but quickly turn her head away with a hint of a blush. Paul, in turn, did the noble thing and pretended he hadn’t seen a thing. Before long, they found themselves next to a pastoral scene straight out of a painting. Paul’s little stream was clear and strong, with banks that were lined with all manner of flora. They spent the next half hour hiking along the narrow dirt path that meandered along the side of the stream.
All the while, Paul pointed out small details that would have escaped Maddie’s notice, like the various fish in the stream that were discernible only when she stopped and stood still for a few seconds to give her eyes time to adjust to the light playing across the water. A simple thing, certainly, but a gesture Maddie appreciated. She knew if she hadn’t met Paul, she would never have found herself in the Italian countryside in this sylvan setting.
When they reluctantly headed back to the car after their brief stroll, Maddie tried to articulate her gratitude to Paul for bringing her on this outing.
Paul brushed aside her thanks by simply saying, “It’s nice to have your company. I’ve been coming here for so long that it’s tough to say I get homesick anymore. Still, it’s nice to have someone from back home to talk to and share this beautiful scenery with for a change.”
Now that he mentioned it, Madison realized she was enjoying the same thing: the chance to chat with and experience part of Italy with a fellow New Yorker. Dimly, her subconscious reminded her that she might have had that ability to share the trip all along if Becker hadn’t so unceremoniously dumped her in London, but what was the use of crying over spilled milk? Better to just enjoy the time she had with Paul.
As they climbed back into the car, Maddie asked Paul what other parts of Italy he’d visited. His resulting travelogue, which seemed to touch on practically every corner of the aptly described “boot,” ended up filling the rest of the journey. Maddie was enthralled not only by the places he’d seen, but the various experiences he’d had. In the course of his studies, he’d necessarily made contact with a wide variety of people, from scholars to priests, to ordinary country folk with long memories. Having expertise like Paul’s gave him an entree that seemed to be the ideal way to engage people while exploring their country. How lucky she was to get this glimpse of his unique lifestyle.
It was fortunate that they’d had a large breakfast, as it gave them plenty of fuel for what turned out to be a surprisingly hectic day. While they did, indeed, visit the two churches Paul was studying for his paper, they also did a great deal of ancillary research. That included visiting libraries and the historical society, interviewing parish priests and nuns, talking to architects and engineers familiar with the buildings, and then running down leads produced through these contacts. Madison found Paul’s thorough research fascinating and learned a great deal about the subject matter in the process.
By the end of the business day, they were exhausted—and famished. Paul’s work had been so intense and productive that they’d skipped lunch. Then again, the breakfast had been so filling that they’d hardly noticed. But now their stomachs had kicked back into hunger gear after having diligently supplied energy for their exertions throughout the day.
Paul, of course, knew of another great restaurant in the area, but when they walked up to the doors, they found a sign indicating it was closed for the night for a private party. Discouraged and with stomach pangs growing ever more insistent, they were getting ready to climb into the car to go to another place, when Maddie saw Paul staring in the direction of a small grocery store still open across the street.
“I know this might sound strange,” Paul ventured, “but what would you think of a picnic?”
“For dinner?” Maddie asked, momentarily taken aback. “Where would we go to eat it?”
“The central piazza. If you’ve never seen how these places come alive in the evening, you’re in for a treat. Come on.”
Paul’s enthusiasm was contagious. “Okay, I’m game for anything,” Maddie agreed, as she proceeded to follow him across the street to the shop.
The little deli-cum-grocery-cum-vegetable-and-fruit-shop seemed to have been frozen in time the day when it had first opened at least fifty years ago. Maddie was willing to wager that the little old man behind the counter was the original owner. Paul surveyed the store and all of its contents, then grabbed a basket and starting filling it, while at the same time calling out to the proprietor for items in the deli case. He even managed to grab a couple of bottles of red wine to go with the meal.
After paying for their purchases, Paul drove them the short distance to the piazza and parked the car. He then rummaged through his knapsack in the trunk and extracted a Swiss Army knife, which he tossed to Maddie before grabbing the bag of groceries and the bottles of wine.
It didn’t take them long to locate an old-style park bench on the periphery of the square, where they laid out a large paper bag between them and began setting out the various delicacies Paul had procured. In a short time, they had laid out a nice little picnic, including salamis, cheeses, a container of grilled red peppers, some olives and artichokes, and the requisite crusty bread to accompany it all. Realizing belatedly that they didn’t have any glasses or even paper cups for the wine, they had to settle for swigging it directly from the bottle. At first, Maddie was a bit red-faced by this method, but the only looks they got from passersby were the kind typically reserved for an indulgence towards young lovers.
It was those sorts of looks that made Maddie forget about her wine-drinking and instead gaze more speculatively at Paul. He was busily spearing a few olives onto his cheese-laden bread, and she couldn’t help but appraise his hands as he did so. They were laced with sinew, the likely result of his summer job, and also deeply bronzed. Once again, Paul seemed to sense her watching him and looked up in time to see Maddie smile and avert her eyes.
“You know,” Paul said thoughtfully, “you’ve shared the story of your husband troubles with me, but I’ve never told you anything about my personal life. I think a little quid pro quo is in order,” he said with a wink.
Maddie blushed, thinking he was about to reject her in advance of any move she might make. Twice he’d caught her giving him the once-over, and she had the feeling he was anxious to cut off any romantic notions on her part. She was brand new to this whole relationship process, so to forestall any painful dissertations that would begin with “You’re a nice woman, but…,” she shook her head and said, “No, that’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anything. I was just a bundle of nerves last night, and it felt good to talk to someone about the situation with Becker.”
“But I want to tell you,” Paul said with determination. “Because, you see, I’m gay.”
Maddie was thunderstruck. Way back when she was a single woman dating around Manhattan, she’d developed pretty reliable radar to pick up on men who were gay, men who were married, and men-who-would-not-commit-to-save-their-lives, but she’d had no inkling whatsoever that Paul was gay. None. Boy, I’m really out of practice. Suddenly it seemed like the whole new singles game opening up before her was going to be a lot more work than it was worth. As she gazed around the piazza and saw the young families proudly pushing their babies in strollers, she felt a great pang of regret at how close she’d gotten to that point in her life. Now, matched up against her realization of just how time-consuming and stressful it was to be singl
e, she felt completely depressed.
Maddie’s face must have given her away, as Paul quickly jumped in to console her. “I know what you’re thinking: you had no idea and thought you should have known, right?”
Maddie nodded mutely.
Paul leaned back and draped his arm across the bench. “Well, you weren’t the only one.”
Maddie looked at him quizzically and asked, “You mean you didn’t know?”
He shook his head. “Nope, I didn’t. I was as straight as the next guy for most of my life, or at least I thought I was. I think maybe the whole time there was a voice in the back of my head trying to tell me otherwise, but I kept shutting it out. I mean, look at my background: working-class Italian kid, big into sports, my grandmother and mother expecting little bambinos. Who was I to disappoint them? But on one of my summers over here about four years ago, I ran into a guy; things clicked, and I stopped telling the little voice to go away.”
“Are you still with that guy?” Maddie asked.
“No, he was only house-sitting in Venice for a month, and then he went back home. Not only that, but he was from Spain, so that pretty much put a damper on any kind of regular contact. But, having had that experience, I went home that year, and it was kind of like starting life all over again. Dating a whole different sex. Breaking the news to my family and friends, coping with the reactions. Pretty much everything you’ll be going through when you go back, except for the different same sex part,” he said with a laugh.
Maddie smiled and found her spirits starting to perk up. “Was it as bad as you expected?” Realizing how that sounded, she quickly amended her question. “I mean, the breaking it to your family and friends part?”
Paul grinned. “I knew what you meant, and yes and no. Mentally preparing myself beforehand was the hardest part. On the whole, the reaction wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d expected. For the few who had a problem with it, I figured they weren’t real friends after all.” Turning his head and looking at the strollers and little children going by, he added, “I don’t think my parents will get over the part about not having grandchildren, but who knows, maybe somehow that will happen someday, too, if I find the right partner.”
“So there’s no one special right now?” Maddie asked.
“Well, there is…from my point of view. But he hasn’t seen the light yet, and I’m hoping that after I go back this fall, I can somehow find a way to convince him I’m ‘The One.’”
“I’m sure you will,” Maddie said encouragingly. “You’re a pretty neat guy, not to mention the fact that the packaging is pretty impressive,” she added with a rueful grin. They both laughed at that, knowing how Madison had been sizing him up.
After a minute of laughter, a serious look returned to Paul’s face. “I have a feeling things are going to turn around for you. Whatever happens with Becker, you have to look beyond it and keep moving on and not look back.”
“Good advice. I just hope I’m up to it,” Maddie said, throwing her hands outwards in a gesture of bewilderment. If only she could be so sure herself.
“You will be,” Paul said. “In the meantime, we’d better hit the road and head back.” He gathered up the odds and ends left on the paper and stuffed them in a plastic bag. “I want to get all that research entered into my laptop while it’s still fresh in my head.”
“If you need any help, just call me,” Maddie told him.
Paul stopped in his tracks, looking up to see if she was serious.
Then they both burst out laughing again. They laughed and joked in the same vein on their way back to the car. Putting the bag of food in the front seat, they nibbled and talked all the way back to Venice.
When Paul pulled up in front of Maddie’s hotel, he reached over and touched Maddie by the arm. “I’ve had the greatest time with you today. I don’t know if you have anything else planned for tomorrow, but can I take you out for a late breakfast? You’re probably as tired as I am after getting up so early today, so maybe I could come around ten so we can sleep in a little.”
Maddie was happy enough not to have to say goodbye to Paul just yet. After the good time they’d had today, she felt like she was on the verge of making a friend for life. Maybe if they had a bit more time together, they could further cement their growing bond and meet up again back in New York after the summer. So she gave him a very enthusiastic yes and bounded up the steps to the hotel, turning to wave goodbye as he took off down the street.
~~~
July 17
The exhausting day in Verona had taken its toll, and it was all Madison could do to rouse herself out of a deep sleep by 9:30 the next morning. After taking a quick shower and throwing on some clothes, she went down to the lobby with just one thought on her mind: the need for an immediate injection of coffee. Fast.
Maddie brightened at the sight of Paul, who was already sitting in one of the lobby chairs waiting for her. “Where are we going?” she queried, feeling a bounce in her step from knowing that whatever Paul had planned, it would doubtless be great.
“How ‘bout this? Since I gather you still haven’t seen much of Venice yet, I thought it would be entirely appropriate to do the touristy thing and have our coffee in St. Mark’s Square.”
“How novel,” Maddie said mockingly. “I thought that was the kind of place you wouldn’t be caught dead in.”’
They stepped out the door, and Paul steered her in the right direction with a light touch to her back. “Ah, well, that all depends on your connections. It’s true that everything is exorbitantly expensive on St. Mark’s Square and that the espresso is four times the price it would be just around the corner. But…”
“Yes, but what?”
“But the brotherhood of gondoliers is a strong one, and we have our connections in the other trades. In return for the occasional free gondola ride to a waiter with an impressionable young lady tourist that he’s met at his restaurant, I can get the occasional cut-rate cappuccino and primo table location when the need arises.”
“I see.” Maddie nodded and raised an eyebrow. “Might I say that I’m completely flattered that I am considered worthy of calling in one of those favors.”
Paul laughed. “Nothing but the best for a fellow New Yorker.”
The sun was already shining fairly high up in an achingly blue sky by the time Paul had shown her to what was, indeed, a prime table, with views of St. Mark’s Church, a bit of the Grand Canal, and the general hustle and bustle of people going about their business in the large expanse of the square.
Only when they were sitting down did Maddie notice that Paul had brought a large knapsack with him. “You don’t have to bring your own utensils, do you, as part of the ‘deal’?” she teased.
“Very funny. No, this is for show-and-tell. But first, let’s order.” Paul called over his friend and arranged for the coffees and a couple of pastries and biscotti to be brought over. Settling back in his chair, he pointed out some of the landmarks in the area and noted some interesting tidbits of historical background. They attacked the treats with relish and had called for refills on their coffees before Paul finally pulled the backpack onto his lap and unzipped it.
“Have you ever heard of Carnival?”
“Yes. I know it’s big in New Orleans and parts of the Caribbean.”
“Well, it’s pretty big here, too. They have a long, wonderful tradition of creating beautiful masks for the occasion.” He proceeded to pull three very different, but equally beautiful, handmade masks that had been carefully wrapped inside the knapsack.
“Oh,” Maddie exclaimed, “these are just gorgeous.” She reached out to touch the delicate paintwork on the masks, which were made of papier-mâché, with layers of lacquer and vividly realized paintwork. “People don’t really wear these, do they? They’re almost like works of art.” On further reflection, she realized she’d like to buy one or two of these to hang on her wall at home.
“Yes, of course they wear them,” Paul quickly replied. “Look,” he
said as he lifted up the black one with jewel-colored flames leaping all around the eye openings and slipped it onto his face. “Just imagine this with, say, a magenta doublet and a black velvet cape.”
He sat back and moved his head from side to side to allow Maddie to admire the effect, which was indeed striking. When he moved his head to the left, Maddie’s head moved slightly to the right. To her horror, she saw Becker making a beeline for their table from just thirty feet away.
“Oh no!” Maddie shouted in alarm, jumping up and back from the table. “It’s Becker.”
As Becker strode closer, Maddie’s head spun in confusion. Panic set in. Leaning over to Paul, she pleaded, “I don’t want to talk to him. I’ve got to split. Can you give me a head start?” She turned to run, while calling over her shoulder, “I’ll try to come see you tonight to say goodbye.”
When Maddie took off at a fast clip to disappear into the crowds on the square, Becker stopped in temporary confusion. Collecting his thoughts, he started to take off after her, but he quickly found his arm locked in an iron grip. Looking around to see who was holding him back, Becker faltered when confronted with an enormous black lacquered face with flames licking up around the eyes. The eyes behind the mask were pretty intense as well.
~~~
The Becker Chronicles—Venice, Part One
Munich had been a complete bust. Becker had expended considerable time and effort to find Maddie, to the exclusion of all else. Paradoxically, the more he fruitlessly searched, the more determined he became to find her. And the more he thought about Madison, the more he realized how much he missed her. His remorse at his behavior in London grew steadily as well. How could I have been so callous? What was I thinking, or was I thinking at all?
The trip thus far had been a sequence of humiliating experiences where he’d tried to prove himself to be something he wasn’t and had failed miserably. And now, all his time was consumed with trying to find Maddie and put things back to right, which in his mind was the place they were before he’d ever opened his big mouth at the pub in London.