Chapter 11: iTaly
Sam's POV
….
Italy was beautiful. I had noticed as soon as I stepped off the plane. I had decided on Italy for 2 reasons: (1) It was the least expensive airfare and (2) I actually knew a little Italian. After landing in Verona, I began searching for a place to live. Even though I care little about school, I also enrolled in online classes- at least I would be learning while I roamed the country. It was cold there, but the ancient buildings and scenery amazed me. I even saw the statue of Dante Alighieri. I stayed in various hotels in various cities, each seeming to be more expensive than the next. I spent a day in Verona, 2 days in Pieve, a day in Trento, 3 days in Schlo, 2 days in Vicenza, 4 days in Legnago, 3 days in Rovigo, and 2 days in Padua. Finally, I happened across a small town called Chioggia. It lay on an island in the Lagoon of Venice, about 15 miles from the great city itself. I had stayed at Hotel Ambasciatori in Chioggia for about 3 days. Finally, I decided on a place to stay. There was a farmhouse in the outskirts of town. It was small, not overly expensive, and had a studio apartment, which was perfect for me. The Caballarin Farmhouse apartments were, in a word, comfortable. They were run by the Caballarin family, who were generous enough to share fresh fruit and vegetables from their farm with me. They had a 9 year-old daughter named Jolie. She was sweet, and reminded me of Angela, a girl from my old neighborhood. I often wondered about her. Angie's mom died when she was a baby, so her dad had to take care of her. But Angie's dad was an alcoholic. He abused her in more ways than one and made her feel terrible about herself. Looking back, I should've taken her with me.
"HI, SAM!"
I looked to my left and saw Jolie waving furiously from the garden. "Hey, Jolie."
"What 'cha doin'?"
"Thinking."
She looked at me curiously, "'Bout what?"
"Home."
She frowned, "You aren't goin' home, are you? I don't want you to go home. I would miss you too much." She looked up at me with puppy-dog eyes. "Please don't leave, Sam."
I smiled. For whatever reason, little girls leeched onto me like I was their best friend. I suppose the reason I was nicer and more patient toward girls this age because I was 7 years old when my dad left us. Believe it or not, my dad was a nice guy. He and I were awesome friends. Carly even met him once. I never figured out why my dad left us. I wanted to believe he was dead- that he would never do that to us. But he was alive. His clothes and suitcase were gone. It was the one thing I'd never forgive him for.
"Of course I'm not leaving! If I left, who would water the flowers with you?"
She laughed and grabbed my hand. Together, we skipped (yes, I actually skipped- shut up about it) to her corner of the garden. Well, our corner of the garden. When I first moved here, we planted a row of tulips there.
"Look!" I pointed to a little green sprout, "They're growing!"
She looked closely and noted, "They're pretty small."
I laughed. "Yea, they are. But don't worry, they'll get bigger."
She smiled.
"I have to go get some stuff from the grocery store. OK, Jolie? Do you think you can take care of the flowers by yourself?"
"Yup."
"OK, then. See you later, alligator!"
"In a while, crocodile!"
I laughed and headed to the closest Wal-Mart. I guess I got lucky; most of the people in this part of Italy spoke English well enough. Jolie's family spoke it fluently. Sometimes I practiced my Italian with them.
The bus dropped me off, and I noticed, with dismay, that it was noon on a Sunday. Meaning the store was packed. Well, as packed as it gets in Chioggia.
I grabbed some bread, pasta, peanut butter, and ice cream for Jolie (She beat me at skipping stones).
At the register, there were only 2 people in front of me. But of course, all of them had tons of stuff to check out. I just sighed and stepped in line. Then, the guy behind me cut ahead.
"HEY! Did you not see that I was in front of you? God, didn't they teach you in preschool: No cuts."
He looked at me and said smoothly, "I think you're mistaken. I was here first."
Damn. He looked like… Freddie. I shook my head. "I'm not an idiot. Get your damn ass out of line, or I'll do it for you."
"OOH, I'm SO scared", he remarked sarcastically.
That's it. "Listen up, douchebag. I CAN and WILL take you down. Do you really want your ass kicked by a girl? GET OUT OF LINE."
Maybe I was being ridiculous. I don't know. I just knew I couldn't back out of this like the pussy I'm NOT. Sam Puckett NEVER backs down from a fight.
"Bring it on, sweetheart."
I punched him in a very… sensitive spot. He yowled like, well like that spot had been crushed. I'm proud to say he may no longer have kids.
"DAMNIT! What the HELL is wrong with you?"
I stared at him head on, "I warned you, asshole. GET. OUT. OF. LINE."
He scowled but did as I said. I considered making him pay for my food, but decided against it. I was probably lucky the Security guys didn't show up.
After I paid for my food, I headed to the bus. The man followed.
"Lots of people take this bus", I muttered.
But then he got off at my stop.
"Why are you following me? Do you desire another beating?"
He actually laughed. HE LAUGHED. "Well, sweetheart, I guess we're gonna be neighbors."
Oh, Shit.
…..
Authors Note: Whaddya think? This is random, but I love the song Blame It On the Alcohol by GLEE.
R&R!