Chapter 4 #2
“Lead on, oh incomparable tour guide,” Daniel said with a flourish.
Mel guided him over to the Baptistery. There was a crowd of Japanese tourists gathered in front of the doors, but Daniel towered over them and had no trouble viewing the panels. Mel couldn’t say the same, however.
“They are considered one of the first real works of the Renaissance and were completed to mark the deliverance of Florence from the Black Death,” Mel said, looking up at Daniel’s face since she couldn’t see anything but the very top panels.
“They’re amazing.”
“I wish you had time to go through the Uffizi or the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo or the Bargello. It’s almost better than…uh…”
Daniel looked down at her. “Better than what?”
Why had she said that? “Well…” She grimaced, then burst into laughter. “There is absolutely nothing I can say now that won’t get me in more trouble.”
He leaned over her, his expression still serious. A few tourists, who evidently knew a bit of English, were pressing forward so they could hear her response.
“Well, you could set up an experiment in the Uffizi, right there in front of, what, The Birth of Venus?” He held up his hands as if weighing something. “Better than, or not?”
He was teasing, but her rebellious brain visualized exactly that.
There was a nervous giggle behind them, but Daniel was focused on Mel. She was breathing fast and looking a bit flushed as she leaned away from him. His breathing sped up in response.
“Sacrilege?” she said.
“Oh, I don’t think so. Look at the way these artists celebrated the delights of the human form,” he said with a teasing smile.
“How about illegal?”
“Hmmm. Wouldn’t want to get hauled off by the local polizia.” He leaned down further to whisper. “But it might be worth it.”
Mel licked her lips and he felt the sudden need to kiss her. He heard someone gasp and turned his head enough to realize that some of the women and even a couple of the men nearby had rather amorous expressions.
“What…?” he said, feeling strangely exposed.
Mel looked a bit addled herself. She finally seemed to notice the attention they were getting and blinked, rubbing a hand across her face.
She poked a finger in his direction, laughing in an odd and forced way, like a socialite who had found a monkey in her living room.
But the people around them suddenly laughed in the same way, as if Daniel had performed some amusing trick, and then went about their business, ignoring them.
That wasn’t weird at all.
“What the—? Hey, where’re you going?”
Mel had headed for a long line of people waiting to get into the cathedral.
He hurried after her, scanning the queue as he went.
He didn’t see any familiar faces, just as he hadn’t seen any on the train in his vision.
Surely Francesca would stay with the group. Why was she on that train without them?
Mel kept going, now headed for a side street.
He caught up with her as she reached the cool shadows of Via dei Servi, another narrow passage that was deeply shadowed by the slant of the late afternoon sun. A few tourists were headed in the same direction, but the bulk of the noise and crowds had disappeared.
Daniel didn’t know quite what to say to her. He had been teasing her a bit, and suddenly it had gotten really intense. Then the crowd had seemed ready to join in. That was strange enough, but for a split second he’d thought he was in some bizarre Invasion of the Body Snatchers remake.
“Are you all right? What happened?”
Mel’s face was flushed. “Sometimes I have a…problem with crowds. I get claustrophobic.”
“I’m not thrilled about them myself.” He looked toward the piazza. “But they were acting kind of… uh…weird, weren’t they?”
“Were they?”
“I thought so. I mean, I know I was being a bit—”
“Suggestive?”
“Risqué.”
“It’s not important. I just had to get out of there.”
He glanced up the street. “Do you need something to drink? I see some umbrellas over there. Maybe we could rest and have an espresso…or something less caffeinated.”
“That would be great. I need to get my… I need to sit and be quiet for a minute.”
It felt as if all the light and energy had suddenly gone out of the afternoon. Then he realized it was her. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and the bright spirit that was Mel had dimmed a bit.
As they crossed a tiny intersection, he saw an exquisite painting of the Madonna and child. It glowed in a dark niche of a shrine on the ancient and stained outside wall of what appeared to be a very modern gift store.
“You know, that’s kind of Florence in a nutshell right there, isn’t it? Medieval and modern at the same time.” He looked behind them. “And the view. That’s amazing.”
She glanced behind them and smiled.
Il Duomo towered impressively over their tiny, shaded street, a slice of multicolored-pastel marble showing through the opening between the buildings. Above it loomed the huge, red-tiled dome, the gold ball at the top glinting in the afternoon sun.
Daniel pulled out his phone to take a picture.
“Here. Use this.” Mel’s expensive digital camera appeared in front of him. “No phone can match it. Point and shoot. I’ll email them to you.”
“Thanks!” He took a few shots, then decided he wanted a picture of the little shrine as well. “Keep going. I’ll catch up.” He went to take a few shots of the Madonna.
When he caught up with her, she was sitting at an outside table. He set the camera next to her. “Thanks. Due caffè con zucchero?”
“Si, e biscotti.”
“We’ll see if I can pull this off without your persuasive powers.”
He went into the café and asked for “due caffè con zucchero e biscotti, per favore.” The response wasn’t quite as ecstatic what as Mel seemed to elicit, but then he wasn’t a perky little blonde, either.
The gentleman did seem happy that Daniel had at least attempted the language.
Moments later, he was on his way to the table, balancing two cups and a plate of fresh biscotti.
Mel closed her eyes and sniffed the air. “Ah, espresso and fresh biscotti. I have died and gone to Florence.”
He set out the cups and biscotti and fished some napkins out of his jacket. “Are you really all right?”
She dismissed his concern. “I just can’t handle crowds sometimes. Too many people in the vicinity and eventually I reach critical mass. Kaboom.” She sighed in relief and sipped her espresso.
“Eventually?”
“I can handle it most of the time, but after a while I need some time alone.”
“Should I go wander about for a bit?” Daniel offered.
“I don’t mean completely alone. You’re fine.”
“How do you deal with all that travel? What about plane rides?”
“The shorter ones aren’t too bad, but the long hauls?” She shuddered.
Up until now, Daniel’s only fear of air travel had been the thought of drifting off to sleep and dreaming that the plane would go down.
With these new visions, he might see all sorts of horrors if he touched another passenger in the close confines while boarding or disembarking.
He looked at his gloved hands. “That’s one reason I love going home.
Lots of room to breathe up on the mountain. ”
“Only you and the bees, huh?”
“Oh, there are people up there, especially when the cabins are full, but there’s so much room that you can spend all day without seeing another soul if you want.”
“Sounds like heaven,” she said.
“I think you’d like it. My brother-in-law got my sister this terrific espresso machine as a wedding gift. He makes great biscotti, though I’m no expert.”
“Oooh, biscotti and espresso. What more do you need? Maybe I should come visit.”
He dipped the crunchy cookie into his drink.
“Watch out. Those who do tend to come back. Most of the folks who rent the cabins come back every couple of years. Some annually. Some of their kids have grown up to become botanists and biologists and teachers and environmentalists because of what they experienced up there. And they bring their kids.”
“Sounds like a booming business.”
“Almost too much to handle. My grandfather’s death threw us all for a loop. Grace shut things down to take a breather and figure out what to do with the place. Pops was the real teacher—the Woodsman.” He took a bite of a biscotto. “Grace isn’t sure she can fill his shoes. I’m not sure anyone can.”
“I bet you could.”
Daniel began to protest, then stopped. The idea hadn’t crossed his mind because it seemed like sacrilege to think he could replace Pops, but…
“Aha. That looks like an epiphany on your face there, Dr. Woodruff.” She raised her cup, her eyes dancing. “Don’t tell me you never thought of it. You’re a natural storyteller and born to teach, if what I saw at the conference is any indication.”
He shook his head. “Pops was the real storyteller. I just repeat his stories. Badly.”
“Sure…” she said.
Daniel thought about his students at the university. He loved teaching, but often his favorite parts of the lectures were passing on a bit of Pops’ humor and wisdom to his students. He had been thinking about writing a book about him. But picking up Pops’ mantle? He shook his head. “I can’t do it.”
Mel shrugged. “You might feel different someday. Are you ready for the rest of your abridged tour?”
Daniel finished off his cup and grabbed the last biscotto. “I dunno. I’m thinking we should go to the train station and wait.”
Stacking the dishes and cutlery, Mel looked up. “We only have one last stop, and it’s a special one. We’ll make it back in plenty of time.” When she stood to walk into the bar with the dishes and trash, the proprietor met her halfway, smiling. “Grazie!”
Then they were off, heading north.
“This is one of my favorite places in Florence, and it’s a lot less crowded most of the time. I think you’ll find it especially intriguing.”
He peered ahead of them to what looked like a sunlit area with some kind of statue facing them in front of a colonnade. “What is it?”