Sicilian Dreams

by J. P. Kennedy

  Cassie gazed in wonder at the breath taking scenery unfolding before them as they descended the winding road on the hills behind Cefalu. The sea had turned a pewter color in the late afternoon light and the historic town gleamed like a gold jewel tucked in under La Rocca, the huge rocky headland that towered above the town.

  It wasn’t until they reached the main street that traffic became heavy. Everybody comes out in the relative cool of the evening to do their shopping, thought Cassie.

  ‘There’s a park’ said Kat suddenly, ‘see, four spaces down. We can squeeze in there.’

  Liz deftly maneuvered the little car into the tight space and pressed the button to close the convertible top.

  ‘Let’s walk down to the sea front and wander along there to the old town.’ said Liz

  It was thronging down on the boardwalk, people strolling up and down; pausing to chat and check out the outdoor market stalls set up selling the usual mixture of lightweight clothing, hats, sunglasses and jewelry seen in any holiday spot in Italy. The girls stopped to try on some hats and Cassie got out her camera and started snapping away happily. There were plenty of people still around on the beach, spread out on towels or sun loungers and Cassie heard squeals and yells of excitement from the kids playing in the sea. It seemed impossible to take a dull picture and Cassie focused again and again on the old town, sitting so prettily on its little harbor, picture postcard perfect.

  ‘This would look great on you,’ said Kat, dropping a straw hat with a wide, floppy brim on Cassie’s

  ‘Except that now I can’t see,’ said Cassie turning to her. The brim on the hat had fallen right over her eyes.

  ‘You have to turn it up here, see,’ said Kat ‘there is a thin wire in the band. Oh, that looks so cute on you Cass.’ There was a stand up mirror on the market table and Cassie peered at her reflection.

  ‘Very seventies, I like it,’ said Cassie. ‘Quanta costa?’ she asked the Indian stallholder.

  ‘Fifteen euros Madam’ he said in English. She dug around in her purse for the notes.

  ‘What do you think girls?’ said Liz. She had tried on another wide brimmed hat with a green ribbon around the crown.

  ‘Gorgeous, it suits your outfit so well,’ said Cassie. Kat decided the Blues Brothers style black hat she had tried on looked tiny and silly perched on top of all her curls. Liz paid and they walked on into the narrow alleys of the old town.

  They reached the main piazza that sat under the shadow of the Duomo di Cefalu and Cassie got them to pose while she took more photos.

  ‘It’s a good thing we have our official photographer here,’ joked Kat ‘otherwise we would have nothing to brag about when we get home.’ Just as she said that an older man walking by offered to take a picture of three of them.

  ‘Three beautiful ladies,’ he said in heavily accented English, taking the picture.

  They thanked him and checked out the photo on the screen as he walked away.

  ‘Not bad’ said Kat, ‘that’s a keeper.’

  ‘Let’s keep going, time is passing and I feel the need to spend money,’ said Liz.

  The were about to walk past a tiny shop front but were arrested by the sight of two mannequins who were dressed in slinky black and white cocktail dresses and sky high heels.

  ‘Trust the Italians,’ said Kat, ‘they are about the only race on earth who know how dress women. Look at the way those dresses hang. They are sexy and feminine without looking cheap.’ Liz was already walking in the door and the other two followed her in.

  ‘Buona sera’ said the shop assistant pleasantly. ‘Please let me know if I can help you,’ she said in accented English.

  ‘We must look like foreigners,’ hissed Cassie ‘everybody is automatically speaking in English to us.’

  ‘Yes we do,’ laughed Liz. ‘You can always reply in Italian if you want’ she added mischievously.

  ‘Point taken,’ said Cassie ‘I can manage a few words, but if someone replies to me in Italian, I’m sunk.’

  While Cassie admired the small selection of shoes, Liz and Kat starting flicking through the racks of clothes, each finding several dresses to try on. There were two small changing rooms at the back of the long narrow shop and they each took one.

  ‘You have to come out and model for me,’ said Cassie. It just felt too hot to be trying on clothes, thought Cassie, but shoes were a different matter. She was up front about her shoe obsession and had even had her walk in wardrobe enlarged at home to accommodate her ever-expanding collection of footwear. She loved Italian shoes and now gazing at several pair of new season must haves, she was glad she had packed another soft bag inside her suitcase because she knew she would be going home with a lot more luggage than she arrived with. The shop assistant hurried away into the back of the shop to find her size, coming back quickly with an armload of shoes for her to try on. This is the life, thought Cassie, trying on a strappy pair of silver sandals with high, spiky heels. She got up to admire them in the mirror, oblivious to everything else going on around her.

  ‘Hello, earth to Cassie,’ said Kat ‘what do you think?’ She pirouetted out of the changing room in a pair of Gucci silk jersey palazzo pants and a turquoise strapless top in the same fabric.

  ‘Oh, divine,’ said Cassie ‘they are so different. You look fantastic. I wish I was as tall as you and could wear them,’ she added.

  ‘What about me,’ said Liz, stepping out of the cubicle in a very flattering, deep red colored cocktail dress that just skimmed her knees. The front of the dress was draped and her ample cleavage filled out the neckline to perfection.

  ‘Okay, if Doug doesn’t sit up and beg like a dog when he sees you in this, I will eat my hat.’ said Kat, admiring the way the fabric of the dress fell in a swing cut from the waist.

  ‘Buy it now,’ said Cassie ‘it looks like it was made for you.’

  They left the shop twenty minutes later each carrying several shopping bags. The success in the first shop had only spurred them on and they spent another hour combing the back streets of Cefalu before conceding that it was time for an apperitivo. Laden down with their hats and shopping bags, they wandered slowly back to the main piazza under the Cathedral. Kat had spotted a tiny bar with tables set outside and she led them over to it.

  ‘That was a blast’ said Liz, sitting down gratefully, her bags piled around the base of the table. ‘Talk about power shopping.’

  ‘Yes, sometimes it’s like that,’ agreed Cassie. ‘Did you see that lingerie shop we passed on the way back here? They were just closing, but they looked like they had some amazing stuff in there.’

  ‘Oh, we’ve got to go back there then,’ said Kat. ‘I could do with some sexy new underwear, and if those granny pants I spied you wearing in the changing rooms are anything to go by Liz, you could do with some too.’ she added laughing.

  ‘They’re not granny pants, they’re Nancy Gantz,’ said Liz. ‘I’ll be the first to admit they are not the most beautiful under garments, but they give you such a nice line on top, especially when you are wearing something fitting. No muffins poking out.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Kat, ‘just wear them when you are not intending to seduce Doug. Anyway, you need to buy something sexy to wear under that red cocktail dress, nude colored granny pants just won’t cut it I’m sorry.’ She waved over a waiter and they ordered three glasses of a locally made white wine.

  ‘I know,’ said Liz, waiting until the waiter was out of earshot, ‘but I have put on weight since the twins were born and I just feel really self conscious about it.’

  ‘Liz, don’t be, you look amazing. You are curvy, like Nigella Lawson, and all the curves are in the right place. Embrace your figure, as they say,’ said Cassie

  ‘Embrace my muffins you mean,’ said Liz unconvinced. She can’t see how gorgeous she really looks, thought Cassie, and she never had been able to. Even at university, when men had been falling all over themselves to get her attention, she was self-conscious about her figure. The
waiter came back with the wine and several little bowls containing nuts and olives.

  ‘Thanks guys,’ said Liz, picking up her glass and grabbing a handful of nuts ‘you’ve just given me the excuse to pig out on this holiday,’ she laughed. ‘I love food, and unfortunately, food loves me.’

  The wine was delicious and they ordered another round. Part of the fun was sitting in the piazza, watching people go by.

  ‘They call it ‘passeggiata’’, said Kat. ‘It means to parade, or walk by, greeting friends and neighbors as you go. I think it is very civilized.’ There was a mixture of old and young, tourists and locals, families and lovers parading by before they went home or off to dinner. It was street theatre, with music playing from the bar and conversation going on everywhere.

  ‘They sound like they’re singing when they speak’ said Cassie. ‘It’s such a musical language.’

  ‘Why do you think opera is written in Italian?’ said Kat.

  ‘Good point,’ said Cassie, ‘although Italian opera always sounds a little crazy to me.’

  ‘Philistine,’ replied Kat.

  They finished their wine and decided to walk back down to the seafront and find somewhere to eat dinner. It was now dusk and lights were starting to come on along the waterfront.

  ‘This one looks nice,’ said Cassie, pointing across the road to a small trattoria, which faced the sea and had a large, striped awning over outside tables.

  Liz stopped to look at the menu on the wooden easel, which had been helpfully placed so passers by could inspect it before they chose to go in.

  ‘Mm, ‘Calamari alla Griglia’’ said Liz. ‘I think that is one whole squid tube, scored and then grilled,’ she said longingly. ‘This looks great, what do you think girls?’

  ‘Ok, you’re the food expert, we’ll be guided by you,’ said Kat.

  They were shown to a table under the awning and the waiter brought another couple of chairs so they could put their shopping bags on them.

  ‘Nice touch,’ said Cassie, ‘better than leaving them lying around on the ground under the table.’

  The waiter brought them menus and a bottle of sparkling water. Liz picked up the wine list.

  ‘I don’t know much about Sicilian wines’ she said, ‘but are you happy to stick to white?’

  Cassie and Kat were perusing the menu. Fortunately the waiter had given them copies which had the dishes written in English under the Italian. It didn’t sound nearly so exciting in English thought Cassie, but at least I will know what I am ordering. I must try and make an effort to learn a bit of the language while I am on holiday.

  The waiter returned and Liz asked him to choose a wine for them. ‘Something light, crisp and dry’ she added.

  ‘Certainly Signora’ said the waiter, ‘we have a very nice Malvasia. I think you will enjoy it, and, if not, I will drink it for you.’ he joked. He winked at Liz while he collected their menus, smiling as he left their table.

  ‘He’s cute’ said Kat; ‘I think he likes you Liz’ she teased.

  ‘Oh please,’ said Liz, ‘he is just a boy and he probably wants a good tip.’ She laughed nonetheless, obviously pleased with the attention. The waiter returned shortly with the wine, and, after pouring a small amount into Liz’s glass for her taste, waited for her nod of approval before pouring a glass for each of them. He soon came back with their first course, which was a shared platter of Spaghetti alle Vongele. It was Cassie’s favorite pasta dish and she helped herself to a large portion. The tiny clams and their garlic and oil sauce with a hint of chili, had been tossed through the hot spaghetti.

  ‘These clams are so sweet and there is just the right amount of chili,’ she said.

  ‘It’s divine,’ said Liz. ‘The one I make at home is pretty good too, but these clams are much sweeter than ours.’

  Kat had taken a smaller portion and now sat back, sipping her wine as the other two finished theirs.

  ‘I’m full,’ said Cassie, ‘I think my eyes are bigger than my stomach. I don’t know how I am going to fit in the next course.’

  ‘Me to, but I am going to.’ said Liz, wiping up the rest of her sauce with a chunk of bread. ‘Mm, that was so good.’

  Fortunately, their next course contained no carbohydrates, only protein. Cassie and Kat had both ordered Pesce di Spada, swordfish, and it was served by itself apart from a small garnish of parsley and orange. Liz’s grilled squid took up most of the plate and was similarly solo. The waiter placed a bowl of salad in the middle of the table and wished them Bon appetito before racing back inside, no doubt to take more food and drink orders in the now full restaurant.

  ‘You know this is really the way to eat,’ said Cassie. ‘Carbs first, then protein and greens. Her fish was cooked to perfection and she savored every bite.

  ‘I know, I agree,’ said Liz, ‘but who gets time to make a couple of courses for dinner every night? Great for a dinner party though,’ she added.

  ‘Yes, and I only have those on a weekend’ said Kat. ‘If I am going to get creative in the kitchen, I’ve got a small window of opportunity. Still, that’s what holidays and eating out are all about. Someone else does all the hard work and we just get to enjoy it.’

  ‘Amen to that’ said Liz.

  The waiter cleared away their plates and they relaxed, sated and happy, sipping their wine and chatting.

  ‘What about dessert’ said Liz? ‘We have to try something. I saw something that looked like a tiramisu going to that table over there’ she indicated with her hand.

  ‘Espresso for me’ said Cassie ‘but why don’t we ask for three spoons and share yours.’

  ‘I’ll have an espresso too’ said Kat.

  The tiramisu was soft and creamy, the delicate coffee and chocolate flavors bringing forth lots of ‘oohs’ and ‘ah’s’ from the girls.

  ‘Okay, we are going to have to dance this off,’ said Kat. ‘I picked up a flyer for a new club in the old part of town. What do you say we finish up here and wander down and take a look?’ She saw the looks on the others faces and said ‘Oh come on, we don’t have stay long, it’ll be fun, where’s your sense of adventure?’

  ‘Kat, your ‘adventures’ have a habit of back firing. Remember the bar you dragged me into after Liz’s wedding? It was a biker bar and we got hit on by about twenty ancient Hell’s Angels and had to make a run for it.’

  Liz laughed and said, ‘That’s nothing. Once in London we ended up at a Transvestites nightclub in Tottenham at 3am in the morning. One of the ‘ladies’ borrowed my heels and that was the last I saw of them. We were delivered home in the back of an old van at 5am.’

  ‘Well at least we got a ride home,’ said Kat. ‘They were perfect gentlemen. Well lady gentlemen.’ They were all hooting with laughter as the waiter came back over carrying a bottle of limoncello and three tiny glasses.

  ‘On the house signorine’ he said, carefully pouring a measure into each glass and then leaving the bottle on the table.

  ‘Dare we?’ said Kat, looking at Cassie as their waiter departed. ‘This is really hair of the dog. Oh, what the heck, we are on holiday and we can sleep it off tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Cin cin’ said Cassie and they raised their glasses, Liz sipping very slowly.

  ‘I have to drive and this stuff is pretty strong. Tasty though’ she said, smacking her lips with satisfaction.

  Kat and Cassie ended up having a couple of glasses.

  ‘We are going to do lengths in the pool tomorrow’ announced Cassie ‘and maybe a walk first thing.’

  ‘Speak for yourself’ said Kat, ‘the only exercise I’m going to be doing is horizontal. Sleeping or sunbathing.’

  ‘Me too’ said Liz. ‘I need to work on my tan.’

  They paid the bill and gave the waiter a generous tip for his service and left with and ‘Buona seras’ and ‘grazie’ ringing in their ears. Following Kat, they made their way back into the narrow alleys of the old town, past the main piazza, which was still half filled with dine
rs and families, eating gelato and chatting animatedly to each other.

  ‘Up this way’ said Kat, peering at the advertising flyer in the gloom. Five doors up the narrow alley they saw a light above an open door and a simple sign, which read ‘The Cavern’.

  ‘This looks like a Kat special’ said Cassie.

  ‘Don’t judge a book by it’s cover’ whispered Kat, as they followed her giggling through the door and down some steep, stone steps which dipped in the middle, suggesting their vintage was at least several hundred years old. They reached the bottom of the steps and saw an arrow on the plaster wall indicating the way ahead.

  ‘This is spooky,’ said Liz. ‘Those wall sconces make it look like a dungeon.’

  ‘I think that is the idea’ said Kat ‘anyway, it is atmospheric.’

  ‘If a dungeon can be called atmospheric,’ quipped Cassie. There was light coming from the end of the short tunnel, and as they passed through the arched doorway they entered a larger space with higher ceilings. The decor was minimalist with a long bar that had lighting underneath the marble top which glowed blue in the dim light and a near dark dance floor, two shallow steps down from the main bar and seating area. The music playing seemed to be a blend of modern jazz, loud, but not over bearing.

  Apart from several couples lounging on the low slung chairs and couches, which resembled giant beanbags, the place was quiet and no one was dancing.

  ‘It’s only 11:30pm, early yet’ said Kat. ‘We’ll wait another hour and then things will heat up.’

  The barman seemed delighted to see them and offered them a cocktail on the house.

  ‘Sounds good’ said Kat, ‘what are we drinking?’

  ‘I have just made an Island Voodoo cocktail said the barman in heavily accented English. ‘Come, try it, you will like it I promise.’ He poured the contents of the cocktail shaker into tall, thin glasses, popped a curl of candied orange rind into each one and pushed the drinks towards them with a smile.

  ‘Grazie’ said the girls, each taking a tentative sip.

  ‘Well, I can taste Limoncello I think,’ said Kat.

  ‘Si, in this drink there are three ingredients. Rye whiskey, Averna and Limoncello. It is good, no?’