When they finally docked, Giacomo and Tommaso untied the long-lost boy. Massimo walked him up the hill, shielding him from the swarm of descending paparazzi. "Missing boy found safe," they cried. "Missing boy found safe!"
"Alberto, are you okay?" a reporter said. "How do you feel?"
"Okay… "
"Where have you been for the past few months?"
"Let us pass." Massimo muscled his way through as they continued their hike.
"Why are you protecting a serial killer?"
"Mass murderer."
"I'm not a murderer," Alberto said.
"Then why have you killed almost a hundred sailors on Italian shores?"
"That wasn't me!"
"Who was it then?" That, Alberto didn't have an answer to.
"Fifteen-year-old serial killer," another reporter said.
"Charybdis in disguise."
"I'm not Charybdis," Alberto screamed. "I'm not!"
"That's exactly what I would expect Charybdis to say."
"Why should we believe anything a sea monster has to say? You see how they behave?"
Alberto turned around.
"Ignore them, Alberto, ignore them," Massimo said, quickly ushering him into the safe, warm house.
. . .
Outside of their house with the little red door, reporters were still clamoring for a word with the "fifteen-year-old serial killer." Charybdis, they were calling him, even though he was so obviously a boy. But he was still a sea monster, and there was no way Alberto was leaving the house for the next couple of weeks.
After Massimo decided that Alberto had stared out the window, feeling hated enough, he yanked the blinds shut, holding out the coffee gelato pick-me-up.
Alberto glanced at it. "I'm not hungry."
"It's affogato. Your favorite."
"… Yeah."
Ohhh his son was down. Massimo made the Disapproving Dad Face.
"What?"
"Come with me."
"What?"
He led the boy upstairs to his bed, where the giant gift was still lying in wait for him. "Luca sent this for your birthday," Massimo explained as Machiavelli hopped off his shoulder to investigate. "Although now it's more of a Christmas present."
Alberto sat down, sighing. "I don't even wanna open this now 'cause I'm gonna cry… but I'll do it anyway." He moved the cat and tore off the paper, revealing the large driftwood sign with ALBERTO'S PLACE in bold white lettering.
Somewhere in the pile of wrapping was a card:
il primo novembre 1969
Can't wait to match my LUCA & with your ALBERTO'S PLACE!
Mi manchi. Cari saluti,
Luca
Massimo mused for a bit. "Miss you" could have been interpreted in a variety of different ways. "Miss you" could be a simple friendly farewell or an "I miss the contribution you made to this world before Charybdis took your soul." Almost like he knew before he knew…
Meanwhile, Alberto got up and walked out. "Where are you going?"
"I need a minute," he said.
Oh Lord
It's just strength we need now
. . .
