The Nile of Venice
By Stan x Ollie
Dedicated to all of the Italian fans of Laurel & Hardy/Stanlio e Ollio, Crik e Crok.
Reuniting many years after the events of WW1 and his wife filing for divorce, Oliver thought it would be a good idea for Stan and himself to take a vacation overseas. Unfortunately, Ollie trusted Stanley to help with the travel arrangements, and the two ended up in Venice, Italy. Mr. Laurel mistook the long winding Venice canal for the straight Nile river through Eygpt.
Venice was very popular and expensive in the summertime, more so than Egypt would have been because of the currency rate and Oliver's original itinerary. Their money soon dried up, forcing the boys to sell goods on the roadside for the hotel they were lodged in until they had enough scrapings to fly or sail back to the states.
Hot mid-afternoon, under a thin overhead tarp, no clouds in the sky, Stan and Oliver still had more hours to sell at the stand. The goods were toys and candy, popular with mainly the local children and occasional touring family. The heat slowed their business, giving the boys a bit of a break.
Ollie fell backward into the canvas folding chair behind him. He took off his hat and fanned himself. Stan then took off his hat and started airing the overheated Ollie. Mr. Hardy slapped at Stan's hat then placed his back on top of his head in a slap.
"There's a Nile in Venice... Hmph!" Oliver mumbled and grunted to himself.
"Well, I couldn't help it, rivers don't exactly look too different from each other, and people mistake us for twins all the time," Stan replied.
Ollie turned and shook his head in frustration to Stan, then forward-facing.
"Why don't you do something to help me!" Oliver snapped. "This heat is giving me a horrible headache. Here, get me something to drink to help it."
"Ok, ok..." Said Stanley as he took the money then quickly went to get Oliver something to relieve his headache.
A few moments later,
"Ollie, Ollie..."
"Wha... what?"A groggy Oliver asked. He had fallen asleep during Stan's quick trip for his drink.
"Here..." Stan answered with a light closed-lip smile.
"Well, thank you, Stanley I-What..-! What is this?!" Oliver shouted, shooting upright in his seat. He then snapped his head to Stan in bewilderment.
"It's your drink," Stan replied.
"I know it's a drink, but why did you get me a bloody mary?! I said I had a headache, not a hangover!"
Stan held his hands together, looked down at the drink, then at
Oliver, then at the bloody mary again, "Well... It does have ice, and the tomatoes should be extra fresh since we are in Italy-" Stan explained.
Oliver shot out of the chair, firmly put the cocktail down on the stall then slapped his hands on his hips.
"If I weren't so tired, thirsty, tired, broke, and exhausted, I would have you drink it in one gulp!" Ollie barked at his partner.
"Well... Could I hav'a sip of it?" Stan asked gently.
"Could I have a sip-I'll give you a sip!" Mr. Hardy roared. "Yea... Go on."
Stan smiled and reached for the drink. Oliver then put his fingers on
Stan's chest, pushing Stanley lightly backward.
"Hold on; I will have some first. I learned my lesson." Said Ollie.
Oliver took the glass and gulped down a little less than half, then handed the glass to Mr. Laurel with a rushed flamboyance.
Stan put the glass on the countertop, took a raw egg out from his inner jacket pocket, cracked it into the drink, throwing the shell behind his shoulder. As Mr. Hardy looked on, Stanley took out individual salt and pepper shakers, then proceeded to season the drink.
Ollie shook his head then turned his attention to arranging the goods.
"Next time, why don't you have some bacon with it?!" Oliver snapped.
Later that night,
Oliver stormed past Stan into their humble, small suite. Stan followed behind his angry companion with a very sorry look on his face.
"Ollie..."
"DON'T YOU OLLIE ME!" Oliver yelled, dropping to the edge of the bed.
Stan turned to the door, slowly closed it, then turned back to the huffing and puffing of Oliver's frustrations. Mr. Hardy then began tearing off his shoes.
"Imagine putting one-third of the goods in the canal!" Oliver barked.
"I wanted to show the kids they could work," Stan replied with a pouty face.
"They floated away and sunk!" Oliver retorted, slamming his hands to his sides. "You know, sometimes I wonder about you."
Stan smiled and blinked a few times, then said. "Well... that's sweet."
Ollie waved around his head then said, "Not like that!"
"Are you sure?" Stan replied with a blank face.
"You're lucky I think anything of you at all!" Snapped Oliver.
"What do you mean by that?" Stan asked
Mr. Hardy shot up, rushed over to Mr. Laurel, stopping a few feet from him.
"I'm getting fed up with your dim-wittedness!" Oliver confessed. "We should have been in North Africa enjoying spices, watching wild animals, and enjoying the shoreline. Instead, we buy food every other day, once a day, just to split it!"
"Well, Ollie I-"
"I was married, had a job, that has probably hired someone else by now, and a comfortable life. But I had to trust you. I always make that mistake. Well... Not again!" Said Oliver slapping at his chest. He then turned away from Stan and sat back on the bed, changing clothing for sleep.
"Gee, Ollie... Mistakes are a normal occurrence."
"I know! I'm with you, aren't I?!" Oliver retorted.
Stan lowered his head, cupped his hands together, and sniffled quietly. Mr. Laurel sucked up his tears, then sat on the other side of the bed.
"Goodnight!" Oliver snapped, falling into bed firmly.
"Goodnight..." Stan replied softly.
Over the next few days, Stan was more to himself and quieter than usual. Oliver noticed that Stan would reply to him in single words, head nods, and hand signals. Also, Stan would leave work early then come back to their hotel room a half-hour or so before their nightly meal.
"So... We almost have enough to get back to the states," Oliver said to Stan.
The two were sitting at a small round table in the hotel tavern, eating a stale lasagna. Stan nodded his head, cut up the pasta with his fork as he looked down at the meal.
"I... I called my old frat buddy; he has a job set up for us in a horn factory when we get back... " Oliver said softly with a slight smile on his face.
"Mmm, hmm..." Stan hummed, shaking salt and pepper on his food.
"He said they are always hiring... And it won't be a problem..."
Stan nodded, cutting at the lasagna, shook more salt and pepper on the food, then took a raw egg out and cracked it open on top of the dinner.
Oliver slapped his hand on the table, threw his dinner napkin in Stan's direction, then snapped, "Fine! I see you don't care! Everything is up to me as usual. I take care of you, and this is what I get!"
"I do care; it's just... I'm finished with dinner... I'll-"
"Yea, you'll be in later... What are you up to anyway?" Oliver inquired.
"I'm with my thoughts," Stan replied with a confident head nod.
"What...?"A puzzled Oliver said as he looked down at the sitting Stanley.
Mr. Laurel stood from his chair, nodded at Oliver again, went over to the hotel entrance, then waved at Ollie before leaving with a nod of the head. Oliver pushed his hat forward from the back of his head, rushed toward the exit then peaked out.
Within the darkness of the night, Mr. Hardy trailed behind his partner a few yards. Stan finally stopped at the bridge near the market where they sold their goods. He walked onto the canal bridge and met with the hotel owner's sister, Lydia. She embraced him, gave Stan a few kisses on the cheek, and then patted him on his back.
Oliver's eyes widened, and lips curled in at the sight of Stan meeting this woman in secret. "So... That's what it is." Mr. Hardy marched in place, then stomped over to the couple.
As Stan and Lydia were speaking to one another, Oliver stopped a few feet from the two, put his hand on his hips, tapped his foot in a slow-motion, and looked at Stan with his lips tightened and eyes pointing daggers at Mr. Laurel.
"Ollie I-"
"So... This is what you are doing..." Oliver said slowly.
"Oh, so Ollio, is your special someone?" Lydia asked with a smirk.
"Special?!" Oliver ripped, "If I'm so special, why are you meeting 'ladies of the night' and leaving me at the room wondering where you are every evening?!"
"Lady of the night?!" Lydia asked in shock.
"Ollie, wait a minute... It's not what you think!" Stan tried to insure.
"Thank you-" Lydia sighed.
"It's not even that late; I don't know what she turns into in the night or day," Stan replied.
Lydia gasped then slapped Stan in the face. "That is the last time I try to help you get better, Stanlio!" She then stormed off the bridge, cursing and yelling in Italian as she made her way down the road.
"I wonder what she is saying," Stan asked.
"I don't know, but it sure isn't about spaghetti or espresso." Oliver chuckled. "So what did she mean by 'helping you...? Helping you with what?"
Stan beckoned Oliver to his side. Stanley pointed down, directing Oliver's attention to the canal. Oliver then saw a tiny paper boat with light floating away from them.
"What is that about? What is going on, Stan?!"
"The night lady, Lydia, told me that if someone wishes to get better at something, then they should start by writing it down. I thought that if I made a boat and lit it, then dropped it in the canal, it could catch one of the empty stars in the water."
"Empty stars in the water?" Oliver asked.
"Well, since people wish on stars in the sky all the time, I thought I could get real estate in the stars in the water. An-and the light can help it read my wishes, the stars can read my wishes... It's the closest to touching wishes... See... I'm not that un-witted in the dimming light! I think it's working." Stan replied with a light smile and a nod.
Oliver shook his head, laughed, then patted Stan on the back, resting his hand on Stan's opposite shoulder.
"Well, what about people that fly kites or light paper lanterns?" Oliver smiled.
Stan turned his head back and forth in thought, slightly moving his eyes around. Mr. Laurel then sighed and shook his head. Stan rested his arms on the bridge railing. With a sigh, his eyes dropped to the stars that were captured within the canal's night waters.
"Ollie... Where are we going... What are we doing...?"
Oliver's head raised with a few blinks from his eyes. Ollie's posture became still, picking up the answer to Stan's question that laid ever open on Mr. Hardy's heart.
"...We are being together... That is all I know... That is all I want to know, Stanley..." Oliver answered as he traced his finger on the railing.
Oliver folded his arms together, resting them on the railing, then said, "You know we all make mistakes... I heard they are a normal occurrence."
"More often than you think." Stan smiled.
Oliver laughed and nodded. Suddenly the hotel owner came rushing toward them with their suitcases, filled paper bags in his hands, and his sister Lydia behind him. He then threw down the contents near the bridge, then proceeded to curse and yell at them in Italian.
Stan and Oliver rushed over to their belongings as the owner and Lydia stormed away.
"I don't think they were talking about meatballs and cannoli's. But I wish they were." Stan said.
"Come on, let's get this stuff up!" Oliver sighed.