First Chapter: Gio
The alarm clock rang. He opened his eyes and the bright red color of the numbers that slowly appeared in front of him started to take a recognizable form: five o'clock in the morning. He smacked the alarm clock off and closed his eyes. Before he could get back to sleep, an insolent song started sounding relentlessly, making him curse aloud. His hand made his way in the darkness across the surface of the night table until he found his cell phone and brought it closer to his sleepy eyes: ten past five. He pressed a button and sank his face into the pillow that he kept holding dearly, unconditional companion of his bed, while his drowsy mind slowly returned back to the fascinating world of Morpheus. He woke up with a start as he heard the scandalous Turkish March from the opposite corner of his room. He yawned, defeated, and sat on the bed. He rubbed his fingers against the coarseness formed overnight in his chin and that he had to shear as every morning. He managed to catch the metal cord and turn on the white light lamp that immediately shone against his naked, hairless and well formed chest.
Wake up.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm on it", he spoke to himself as he approached the alarm clock with the shape of Roberto Baggio and silenced it carefully. Twenty past five.
He stretched while turning on the radio ready to inform himself of the state of the world outside or, at least, of the condition of the highway that he would soon have to transit. He carefully flexed the muscles of his arms that stuck out of his slender back and felt the biceps firm to the touch of his hands. He smiled a good morning to the young man that returned the smile in the mirror and, turning around, he threw himself to the floor falling on his wrists. "1, 2, 3... remember to make the inventory early today… 13, 14, 15... change the vegetable supplier, the latest delivery arrived rancid… 38, 39, 40... ask Rori to update the prices of the board... 59, 60. ¡Done!"
He rose from the floor with renewed energy thanks to the small session of morning exercise. He stripped of his boxers, turning them into a little ball that ended scoring three points inside the dirty clothes basket at the corner of his room, half hidden by a small mountain of piled up books. He took a quick shower singing a couple of songs to the beat of the water that stroke his naked body. Fresh and perfumed, he surged out of his bedroom fifteen minutes later and descended the stairs until he reached the kitchen. His mother was preparing breakfast. Always, since he had memory, he had remembered his mother, early in the mornings, bustling around the kitchen. Nobody ever woke up earlier than her, even after his father abandoned home years ago and there was no reason to do it anymore. He contemplated his mother toiling in front of the oven giving the final touches on some dish. Inhaling heavily, he allowed his nose to delight with the scent of freshly baked bread.
"Good morning, 'Mama' ", he said opening the fridge and serving a glass of orange juice.
"Ah! Giovanni. I didn't hear you coming. God bless you, my son", she rewarded him with a loud kiss in the cheek and tried to comb back the locks of dark limp hair that grew long and parted in the middle of his head framing his ample forehead. "When are you going to get rid of all that hair? It's already of the length of my palm".
" 'Mama'…", he protested, stroking his hair with his free hand, undoing what she had done.
"All right, I am just saying that it's not decent, that's all". She approached the stove and turned off the mushroom cream she was preparing. "Do you want me to make something for you?"
"No, thank you", he drank the juice at one gulp. "I promised someone I'll be early today".
"When are you going to introduce me to this girl?"
" 'Mama', you know she is just a friend".
"A friend? Since when women are 'friends' to my Giovanni?"
"'Mama', don't start, please".
"Fine", she said carefully decorating the mashed potatoes with pieces of artichoke. "Then, when are you going to introduce me to this 'little friend' of yours?"
"Enough with the interrogations! I'm off! I'll see you tonight, okay?"
He bent over to get two big plastic boxes located in the corner of the kitchen and walked to the living room. He stopped when he arrived to the door and placed the load in the floor once again. He took the black leather jacket that rested in the hanger near the mirror and, after putting it on, gave a final check on himself at the mirror. He was not taller than the average man, yet his height never bothered him at all. Honestly, it never served as a demerit to his personality, because ever since his infancy, he had that smart air, grace and a certain charm that allowed him to win over everyone he met. Even when his countless pranks drove crazy all his teachers, just a smile was enough to escape the most severe of punishments. Yes, Giovanni Rossi knew how to get his own way. "Except for this one girl", he thought bitterly.
"Damn!", he cursed as he noticed, through the mirror, a small blood drop stain the tanned skin of his shaved chin. He didn't know what was happening to him lately, but there was something disturbing his concentration even at the easiest of his daily routines. His gaze met those big brown eyes that looked at him as if saying 'you know exactly what's going on'. He frowned, his dark brows framing his face, decorating his wide forehead with several wrinkles. He escaped the look in the mirror and made an awkward gesture. Angry at the stain in his face, he licked his thumb and scrubbed the tiny wound, crushing it without mercy.
"That´s disgusting".
He turned to face the little person wrapped in a pink nightgown with yellow ribbons, who looked at him inquisitively under the silky chestnut bangs that covered her whole forehead.
"Nella, why are you up so early?!"
"I need to get used to it. Summer school starts tomorrow. Besides, I forgot to give you this last night", she extended her arms to her older brother who freed those white and delicate hands of their burden: a volume of "Cities of the Plain" and another of a certain Latin writer that recently won the Pulitzer. "You have to return them next week. Don't forget it".
"Have I ever failed you?", Gio protested. He couldn't afford to buy books to keep them stocked in his narrow bedroom. He didn't have anyone to lend them. His best friends seldom read anything but the sports section of the newspaper, and that was just if they couldn't catch the sports update on cable TV. Besides, he had all corners filled with them and his mother didn't allow him to invade the common rooms with his stuff. He thought that as soon as his business prospered a little he should seriously start looking for a studio in Manhattan. He knew that he was the only man in the house and that his family depended on him, but he longed so much for independence and he knew he had reached that age that made it indispensable. But, for now, the best resort was to borrow books from the educational center where his youngest sister studied. Anyways, he thought, he was lucky to have an excellent memory and he didn't enjoy giving second readings to books. The big pile of volumes in his room had not better use than to serve him as table substitutes and as a bizarre decoration to his place. He definitely needed to start getting rid of them.
"Are you sure the people at your school are not suspicious of an eleven year old girl that borrows book of, for example", he said lifting both books with his hands, "Cormac McCarthy and Junot Diaz?"
"Of course not! People think I am a genius. Besides, the librarian is crazy to meet you".
Antonella turned around making her sheer nightgown flutter in a very cute but conceited motion before she left with long steps to the kitchen. He revised the cover of one of the books and opened the flap; there he found a small note that guarded a phone number and the name of a woman. He placed the note in one of the many pockets of his jacket though he honestly doubted that he was going to call her. Gio smiled while he placed the books on top of the superior box and, after he closed the apartment door, he approached the elevator and pressed the down button.
He was humming a melody waiting for the elevator when his mobile phone started ringing. "It's not even six in the morning", he thought. "She hasn't changed at all". He heard a woman's voice on the other side of the line. He adjusted the cell phone in his neck and walked slowly to the stairs.
"Cynthia, baby, you know you owe me. I'll never ask for it if it wasn't any good. This is for real. No, not today I can't. But talk to whomever you have to talk to. We´ll meet during the course of the week. I promise you. No, I'll call you. I assure you that you will be begging me for more. Yeah, okay. Bye".
He spaced for a second as he closed his mobile, grabbed once again the boxes and carefully descended the three floors of distance to the ground floor. When he reached the common area, he greeted the Super's old mother. For as long as he could remember, she was always sleeping the main corridor, since the time that her own husband was the Super of the building. She was wearing her usual dark prints gown, as if she lived in permanent mourning. The old lady was holding the newly arrived mail and newspaper. After quickly digging through them she placed a couple of bills in the top of one of the boxes that Gio was holding in his arms, not without first blessing him like he was her own son and opening the heavy main door for him.
Two guys where resting, side by side, on a parked car in front of the building.
"Hey, Gio, my man!" said the one who dressed blue sweat pants and a moss colored thick sweater decorated with eye-catching reflective strips. He was raising one of his hands as a manner of greeting Gio and in the other he held a basketball. He had a nicely shaved goatee kept at the same level of his buzzed cut hair. He had Latin-American features and was barely a few centimeters shorter than Gio, cause of endless discussions between the two.
His partner, a beautiful chocolate skinned man, result of the marriage of an Indian immigrant and an Afro-American professor, rubbed his hands together and blew through them, which protruded from his light military printed sweater, trying to keep them warm. He spoke to Gio, "Are you coming to run with us or not?"
"Hey, guys. Today I can't, honestly". He raised his load a little showing them that he was obviously much occupied.
"You know don't have to open today if you don't want to. At least come and play a little basketball match with us".
Gio shrugged his shoulders and that was all he answered them. He made his way to the nearest garage to his apartment, just around the block; the other two followed walking by his side.
"You don't even play with us anymore. Now that you've turned into your own boss, it's even worse. Didn't you say that you were tired of working 9 to 5 and being bossed around? You are your worst boss ever!"
"Woah, Woah, Woah! Listen to me!" Gio stopped short and faced the guy who spoke to him earlier. "It's my money that's on the stake, this time. Not some lousy paycheck. Who's going to take care of my mother and sister if I mess this up, eh?"
"Calm down", intervened the dark skinned man who answered to the name Yamir. "No need to get so serious. But Raul is right on this one, Giovanni".
Gio kept walking after giving a quick glance to Raul from the corner of his eyes. Raul continued to bounce the ball against the walkway to the beat of his footsteps. "I can't believe you didn't join us at the Mets game last week. You got us all worried about you. That ain't cool. Ain't cool at all".
"And my sister is still asking me about you", Yamir said. "You can't disappear like that, man, I don't know what to say to her.
"Tell her I am out of town".
"Easy, man, easy! Give her another chance, will you? Maybe that way she'll get off my tail".
"Look, Yamir. Playing 'Celestine' doesn't suit you at all. Besides, I don't believe in second chances, you hear me? Tell Indira, that I am not her personal toy", he added hotly.
"Hey, I've told her thousand of times you're not interested anymore. But she just keeps bugging me. She is like a pest, I tell you. I think she is still all out of love with you. You go figure".
Raul and Yamir couldn't contain their laughs. Gio scoffed.
"Did she found out that before or after she dumped me for that creep?"
"Well, that 'creep' was the one who helped you find that job at that fancy place you worked before ", Yamir said, "or have you forgotten?"
"¿Robert?" Raul conceded, massaging his short haired head with his free hand "Oh! But you can't blame Robert. We are no match for him. He even took my Maria from me".
"You know what? I don't give a damn! To Hell with Robert and Indira!" Gio turned on the engine to let it heat for a while. He heard it purr and thought, very pleased, that the morning had already started in a good way. As he stepped out of the van, he almost ran into Yamir. "Are you still here?"
"Don't play the tough guy. We all know you weren't serious with my sister. You still had issues with that brunette, that hot babe, what was her name?"
"Yeah, yeah. Gio was all nuts and bolts about her" Raul played with the ball as he tried to bring back memories. "Wow! I totally forgot about her."
"But I can almost swear Gio has not forgotten any part of her. You know, the one that worked in that fancy magazine…" Yamir hit Gio in the arm almost causing him to trip and empty the content of the box he was organizing inside his van "I remember now! Cynthia! Gio, my man, you were a total sucker for her. Even after she married that uptown… was it her boss? I remember you even thought about marrying the chick".
"Oh yeah!", Raul said, "wasn't that the broad with the huge as…?"
"Hey!" Gio hit him in the back of the head with his open hand. "Watch it!"
"You see?" The guy jumped back keeping posture after Gio´s unfriendly attack. "He is still nuts for her!"
"I think he still calls her".
"He even keeps her number in his celly. Yeah, I´ve heard him calling her. He thinks they are 'just friends' ".
They couldn't help but burst out laughing. One of the upper windows of the neighboring building opened up and the angry face of an old lady stuck out of it. It was signal enough for them to shut their voices. Gio closed the door of his van and turned to them.
"I am telling you, guys. I am through with women. I have many other issues to think in this phase of my life. I have to focus on what's important: my…"
"…5 year plan" Yamir and Raul finished at unison. "We know. We know".
So, a man with big plans…!
"By the way, Gio" Raul said still distracted playing with the basketball "When are you going to ask me to be your partner? You know I can cook".
"If you can cook, I can paint the Mona Lisa", Gio laughed.
"I am serious, man".
"Me too", he told him and waved them goodbye. "See you in the evening. And, for heaven's sake, find something useful to do".
Gio put on the seat belt and drove his van to Jackson Heights to get one final pick up before he took the straight road to Manhattan. He lowered the crystal of the door to breathe the fresh air of the morning, not yet contaminated by the smog and stench of downtown Manhattan, and let the breeze play with his hair and his thoughts.
Yes, he was through with women and their conflicting relationships, he thought. He wasn't going to let another girl mess up with his life and definitely he wasn't going to let anyone break his heart again. Besides, he pondered, most of the women he knew had already left town or hadn't got any admirable traits or any kind goals in life beyond marrying a rich idiot that could fill them with stinking material goods, or were already married or had an attending accountant for boyfriend who received a monthly steady income in his well established professional career at a prestigious publishing company… He started laughing at the very thought of that stupid idea. He mentally dismissed it from his head. He was definitely never going to tell his friends about that unlikely girl who had enraptured his heart.
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Next chapter: Betty