Chapter 2 Allegra
ALLEGRA
I'm walking around the city center when a delicious smell drifts my way. I close my eyes and breathe in, my feet already taking me to the source. A food stall is frying something, the oval shapes orange and crispy. I blink twice, my mouth already producing an abundance of saliva.
I clear my throat and try to change my voice to sound like a boy.
"What are these?" I ask, my eyes still rooted on the delicacies in front of me.
The man preparing the food frowns.
"You don't know?" He sounds outraged, his hands moving in the air, and I instinctively take a step back. "Boy, have you been living under a rock? It's arancini, Sicilian pride." He shakes his head, clearly put off by my very innocent inquiry. Well, whatever it is, I need some.
"Give me…" I pause, trying to figure out how many I'd need. "Ten!" Yes, that should do nicely. They're pretty small, after all.
Muttering something under his breath, the man does as told, packing me ten arancini in a small bag.
I pay and make to move, but a new smell assaults me.
This time it's sweet. I lose all sense and quickly go to the next stall.
Having learned my lesson, I don't ask what they are; instead, I just state my request confidently.
"Can I have five, please?" I decide on five since they're slightly bigger than the arancini.
"Five cannoli coming," the lady exclaims, and I nod to myself, memorizing the name.
By the time I'm at the end of the street, I have around ten bags with me, all filled with different street foods. I save a few for later, stuffing the bags into the bike's basket. Taking out the arancini and the cannoli, I find a spot to sit down and dive in.
First are the arancini, and oh my, what a tasty combination with the crispy outside and meat filling.
I almost moan when it touches my tongue.
When was the last time I had something fried?
Something with meat and sauce? I sigh in pleasure, stuffing my mouth with arancini after arancini. Soon, the bag is empty.
But I don't stop.
My stomach is full, yet it feels bottomless.
More, I need more. Otherwise, I won't ever get the chance again.
Spurred by this carpe diem moment, I dive into the cannoli.
I bite into the wafer, and the cream bursts into my mouth, assaulting my senses with a sweetness so foreign it's almost unbearable.
"God..." I whisper in between mouthfuls, the chocolate overwhelming my senses and sending me into overload.
How is this possible?
The taste is so potent and so perfect that I eat one after another until I'm left with only one. I scrunch my face a little as I look at it, my entire body rebelling at the thought of eating another one. But I don't listen.
No... I must have it all.
I shove it into my mouth, slowly chewing and trying to swallow.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, but a second later, everything comes back up.
I scramble into the bushes, emptying my stomach to the last bit.
I heave until there's nothing left, the force of it making me fall down, my sight a little hazy.
"Damn..." I mutter, my stomach still rebelling.
Maybe next time I should try moderation.
I take a moment to compose myself and drink some water. When I feel slightly better, I continue my exploration. I cross "food" off my list and move to the next item—the library. I'm well aware I won't be able to take anything back with me, but at least I can browse some books.
I go to the local library and do a quick inventory of their titles, marveling at the different covers and textures. Most of the books at home are classics with very mundane covers. When I pick up a book with a naked chest on it, my mouth forms an "o" and I almost drop it.
A naked man... on a cover? Feeling the forbiddenness of it, I look right and left before opening it. I quickly skim the summary and realize it's a love story.
What if…?
I don't have to take it home with me. I can just read it today and then give it to someone else, right?
I nod to myself, pleased with my line of thought and intrigued by the illicit cover of the novel. I pay for it and quickly stuff it in my bag, making sure no one can see the picture.
Exiting, I look at the clock and decide to head to the ruins, hoping to find more shops on the way. I hop on my bike and pedal again.
Going south, it takes me almost an hour to reach the ruins, but all the effort is worth it.
Wow!
It's bigger than anything I've ever seen. A small feeling of excitement blooms in my chest as I near the ruins. There are already crowds of people walking around, some taking pictures, others having a personal guide explain the historical context.
I'm in awe as I put one foot in front of the other, my response automatic. I find a spot to secure my bike, and taking my bag with me, I start along the nondescript walls, waving my hand along their surface and feeling their texture, age, and history.
Ancient people must have touched this too!
My mind immediately screams at me, and I become even giddier.
God, I've lost count of how many times I've imagined myself living in those times, falling asleep with a book that depicted the myths of the Greeks or the Romans.
I'd read Homer, Herodotus, Thucydides, Cicero, Ovid, and Marcus Aurelius, and my thirst for this wonderful and yet departed world had known no bounds.
To be here… to touch this… it's simply too much.
I haven't even reached the main attractions, and I feel this overwhelmed with emotion.
I make my way further, getting lost in a throng of people. A smile plays at my lips. This is so mundane, yet for me, it's so special.
I feel normal.
Stopping with the crowd, I stifle a gasp, my eyes wide as they take in the wonder in front of me.
Rusty yellow-orange, the Temple of Concordia stretches before me in all its splendor.
One of the best-preserved ancient temples, it's built in a Doric style.
The major difference with this temple is that it's built entirely from clay instead of the usual marble.
I stare open-mouthed at it, taking in every detail, soaking in the grandeur of being here.
I feel so small… so insignificant as I look upon it. How many people's plights has it witnessed over the centuries and millennia it's been here? All my problems and my impending doom fall away as I stay rooted to the spot.
Somehow, I make myself walk, and I keep admiring all these wonderful constructions of humanity until I reach the other temple—the Temple of Hera.
The columns are the only ones still standing, but it's enough to give an idea of what the temple would have looked like in its heyday.
Hera… my lips curl up at the irony of the situation.
Hera, the goddess of marriage and birth.
If only I could reach out and beseech her not to bless me with marriage.
I shake my head at the notion, trying to put those thoughts out of my mind.
I shouldn't waste time thinking about the inevitable, not when I have more important things to do.
Before leaving, I spend an hour in the museum, trying to see every single artifact. Reluctantly, I make myself leave, knowing that time is of the essence. It's almost four in the afternoon, and I have to account for the time it will take me to return home.
I go back to my bike, and studying the map again, I follow the signs to go to the port.
Funny how I've been living here my entire life, but I've never seen the sea. The moment I see the two shades of blue meeting at the horizon line, my eyes tear up a little. Once again, I feel like I could do anything.
This freedom… it's intoxicating, and I fear I'm getting drunk on it. Marcus Aurelius would certainly frown upon it, but for once, his philosophy isn't working for me. I need this to be happy. And now that I've tasted this freedom, I fear I may never be the same.
I leave my bike in a secure location and start walking, trying to memorize everything.
There are shops, restaurants… everything.
I can't even decide what I want to do first. I spend one minute mentally debating what my first destination should be.
Eventually, I decide on going to the beach and dipping my toes in the water—literally.
I don't know how to swim, so I'll settle for that.
People are sunbathing, dressed in almost nothing.
My first instinct is to look away, embarrassed, but since it's normal for them, I put on a show of false confidence and go forward.
There are even naked men… even more so than the guy on the cover.
My cheeks must be burning red, and I try to look anywhere but. I doubt a boy would react like that.
I focus on getting to the shore, and I take off my shoes.
I tentatively step onto the sand, amazed at the feel of fine pebbles under my feet.
The heat from the sun gives me a pleasant tingle.
I take a few steps, and right at that moment a wave crashes onto the shore, the foam slowly creeping in.
It reaches my feet and I wiggle my toes at the foreign feeling.
A giggle escapes me, and I suddenly dash forward, rolling my pants up to my knees.
I go into the water until it reaches my shins, all the while grinning like a fool.
This!
This is life!
Holding on to my shoes, one in each hand, I raise my face, eyes closed, and just let myself feel.
The water is hitting my legs, tickling me with the little debris it brings forth.
The sun is enveloping me in its warmth, and the wind brushes against my skin in a sweet caress.
My smile widens as I tune everything else out.
It's just me… and the sea.
I don't know how long I stand like that. I must seem crazy to everyone else. But they don't know that I'm dancing to my own mental tune, and for once, the outside reflects the inside.
It's only when some kids pass by me, laughing loudly, that I'm once again brought back to earth.
I check my watch and sigh in disappointment at how fast time is passing. Gathering my wits about me, I exit the water, going to one of the showers to wash the sand off before putting on my shoes.
I wander again, trying to choose a restaurant for dinner. A seafood one catches my attention, and I can't help myself. I want to try something new, and that seems to be a good choice.
A server seats me at a table and takes my order. It doesn't take me long to decide, and after doing some quick math on how much money I have left, I order one of each. I won't make the same mistake I did at lunch, but I will have a bite of everything.
The dishes trickle in, and I'm enjoying myself immensely. The next is better than the last. I'm so deeply focused on my food paradise that I take a second to register what I'm seeing.
A couple of men dressed in black are across the street. They look tense as they scan their surroundings. When one looks in my direction, I gasp.
Mario!
One of my guards. No…
My heart beats loudly in my chest, and all reason leaves me. I take out a bunch of notes and leave them on the table, dashing out of the restaurant and running in the opposite direction.
I hear shuffling, and I know they are following.
How did they know it was me?
I don't have time to wonder as I skirt by the port and run toward the ships. But then I reach a dead end.
No!
I'm hyperventilating as I frantically look right and left.
The only option is to hide somewhere. I quickly weigh my options.
It's either the ships or… the water. The latter is moot since I can't swim, so a ship will have to do.
I choose the most luxurious one, thinking they wouldn't dare look there.
I try my best to climb onto the ship, going for an open trapdoor and hiding inside. There's noise coming from outside, and I know it's them. I try to regulate my breathing. The only option is to return home and vehemently deny it was me.
I still can't believe they recognized me…
Rationalizing everything, I decide to stay in longer to ensure they aren't nearby. To make the time pass faster, I crack open my backpack and take out the novel. Might as well spend the time wisely.
I don't know when I fall asleep, but a while later I'm jostled awake by a sudden movement. I blink twice, trying to shake off the sleep.
Moving… the ship is moving.
No!