The train ride was a short one, but all that time spent cooped up in a small compartment had left me stiff. Walking was painful, and I was glad that I only had to walk a short distance until I was able to secure a boat that would take me to my hotel.
As I was resting in the back of the boat, I was able to fully see why people loved Venice so much. I momentarily forgot my worries as the gentle rocking of the boat put me at peace.
Majestic buildings towered over me inside the little boats as we passed between them, like guards standing watch. The intricate detailed designs on the buildings where breathtaking, and I could only think of how long they must have taken to make.
The gargoyles perched on the rooftops were silent onlookers of the busy traffic below. People young and old enjoyed the sunny day on the water as they paddled by in their little boats, and Lovers held hands as they cuddled in the back seats of gondolas.
I looked up just as we were passing a bridge that linked the two rows of buildings together. It was old and crumbling, but it had a certain air of vibrancy.
"Here is your stop Signorita; the hotel di Fabbro, as requested" said the little Italian man, who was steering the boat, with a little bow of his head.
"Thank you sir, how much do I owe?" I asked warmly, for he reminded me of Charlie.
"No payment Signorita, it was my pleasure. Be careful though, you are alone and many murders have happened here this week" he warned severely.
"Thank you Sir, I will remember to keep that in mind during my stay." With that I gathered my suitcase and entered the hotel.
The inside of Hotel di Fabbro was as magnificent as the outside, but a little better well kept. The old chandeliers and candleholders had a certain charm to them. They hung from the ceiling, expanding as I walked under them. This Hotel had character, and I liked that.
I walked up to the front desk and addressed the lady, "Hello Ma'am, I have reservations for a room here," I smiled.
"Name?" she snapped.
Goodness, she wasn't in a very good mood. "Sawn," I answered, "Isabella Swan."
She glared at me and then reached down to flip through a book, "Swan, yes I have you; you get room 1408" She flipped the keys at me. I fumbled a bit with them before securing them in my hand finally.
I gave her a cold glare; this lady was a real snob.
"Thank you, if I have any questions, I will be sure not to bother you, since you seem so dreadfully busy." I retorted icily, then looked at the book she was reading meaningfully, and the set off up the stairs carrying my own luggage as if to make a point.
When I finally made it to my room, panting, for there wasn't an elevator, I unlocked the door in haste and threw my suitcase on to the bed. Still breathing heavily, I flipped my hair away from my face and looked about the room. It was small, quant, with only the necessities of normal bedroom. I liked it; it would work.
But the peaceful feeling that had gripped me on the boat left me, and I began to worry steadily about my father. What If he was in a lot of trouble? I just couldn't be sure. How soon did he need that money? I sighed and with one final look at the room, I left, locking the door behind me and storing the key deep inside my pocket.
The lobby of the hotel was busier now then when I came in earlier. I gave a wide berth to the snobby receptionist from earlier and found a boy a bit younger then me storing luggage on a trolley for an elderly couple on vacation.
"Excuse me," I asked "I was wondering if you could call over a boat for me?"
He looked up, startled, "Si, Signorita." He then left off to flag down a boat for me.
"Thank you." I whispered quietly, even though he had already left; I smiled, he was kinder then the other lady. Perhaps there was hope for this hotel after all.
When the boy came back and led me over to the boat, the driver leaned over the edge and asked "Where to?"
I looked over at him, "The jail, right by the Center Plaza, please." He nodded.
The ride wasn't pleasant; I couldn't enjoy it this time. I was squirming, nervous. I couldn't find a comfortable position. The boat's graceful movement wasn't peaceful, and it was making me rather sick. Even the scenery seemed tainted. The buildings became too tight, making me feel claustrophobic. The gargoyles no longer seemed friendly and instead sneered down at me in blatant hatred.
I was glad when the boat stopped and let me off at a narrow dock. "You must walk a bit from here, Singnorita." I thanked him and paid, happy to be off that boat and away. The small man made way and left me to the busy street that was filled with many people shopping, but they no longer made me happy. They seemed to be rude, bumping into me from every direction.
The worst was a tall gentleman, about my age, dressed in the finest clothes I had ever seen. His top hat gleamed, his waistcoat free of any lint. His stylish boots cracked against the pavement angrily. Yet the grimace on his face did nothing to hide his beauty.
I saw him coming from a distance because the crowded Venice Street seemed to magically clear of people when he walked by. I would have done the same to this seemingly dangerous man if it weren't for the fact that I was momentarily stunned by his flawless face.
He pushed me out of the way, sending me stumbling back against a building wall. His angry shout, "move," was still more beautiful then any voice I had ever heard. He glared at me, and I gave a little yelp in shock; his eyes were red.
A nearby tourist group passed just then, and I took my chance to join them, glad to get as far away from that man as possible. I had thought him a gentleman earlier. A gentleman? Gentleman barely warrants the name; that man was vile.
However, I forgot about that man once I saw the jail. My heart was thumping unevenly in my chest. It was an intimidating place. My nervousness rose when I thought about going in there with out a male escort. What if something should happen to me? But I snapped out of it; I was doing this for my father, and I would only think of him.
The guards at the entrance seemed interested by me. And why wouldn't they be? A young female, such as me, alone and without an escort would provide just the type of excitement they had been waiting for all day.
I pushed past them and walked through the doors. A man with a pistol strapped to his belt came to meet me.
"Yes, hello," I greeted, "I was hoping to speak with one of the men here, he's my father, a Mr. Charlie Sawn?"
The man look at me and in a gruff voice answered yes, I could speak with 'Signore Swan'. I thanked him, and he showed me the way.
Walking through the jail was disheartening; I couldn't believe my father had ended up here. The men in the jail cells called out to me, whistling and cat calling the entire way.
He led me to a little room where they told me to wait. A little while later my father came in and they sat him down. The guard then took his place in a wall off to the side.
"Father" I stated, unsure how to begin.
Charlie looked worn out, exhausted. His clothes were tattered and he looked like he hadn't showered in days. I wondered what had happened to him.
"Isabella…you came." he sounded relieved.
"Yes well, I wasn't going to leave my own father helpless in a jail in the middle of Italy…especially when your telegram said you where innocent." I replied, as if daring him to contradict it
"Would you care to tell me how you made it into this mess, father?" I asked sharply.
He looked at me wearily, "Bells…well you see…I'm a…well my profession is…" he was struggling for words. This was bad. Charlie never fought for words.
"What? What are you?" I urged on.
"Bella I steal for a living, I'm a thief, and I've made a profession out of it." Charlie said rather quickly. When he finished he look like a child, ready to be slapped. I stared at him, shocked. I thought my Father was an honest man. And now I learn that he's a thief?
I stood up grabbing my purse, "Well then, if that's the truth you deserve to rot here for all I care. How could you? I trusted you! Mother trusted you. Did you even tell her!? You're my father for goodness sakes…" I trailed off, loosing steam. I glared at him, and turned on my heel to leave.
"Bells! No, don't go! You haven't heard the whole story!" Charlie got up and grabbed my hand. I whipped around shaking his hand off, my anger flaring anew.
"Oh? So now there's more? Do I have illegitimate sister I should know about? Do you murder for a living too, Charlie?" The use of his name hit him like a slap.
Then he was begging, "Please Bells, listen, just listen to what I have to say." I stopped and turned around. He looked horrible. I couldn't leave him. Though he may have lied, stole, cheated…but he was my father. And as much as my whole being ached to deny it, I loved him.
I turned and sat down. Stashing my purse in my lap where I could see it. I didn't trust him. What if he stole from me next?
"Bella, I steal, yes, I cheat, yes, but I didn't do this." He pleaded. "I didn't steal the antiques that I was accused of stealing, I was framed Bella…I'm innocent!"
"Well, perhaps you should be jail just to make up for all the other times you got away with it." I stated coldly. Charlie looked hurt at my statement.
"Bells, don't leave me here…it's horrible; Ghastly. I'll die if I stay." he was right. Charlie probably would. "I'm not saying you have to bail me out, but if you feel that you can forgive me, and you find it somewhere in your heart to raise the 300,000 Euros I need, I would be forever grateful. You truly would be the best daughter." He was trying to bribe me with titles now.
With that he got out of his chair and nodded to the guard who had watched the scene set out before him with an excited curiosity; I wanted to slap him.
The guard took my father by the hands and led him out. Before Charlie went through the doorway, he turned and said solemnly, "I love you Isabella, please don't tell your Mother about this one, I don't want to worry her. Good-bye." And he left.
You know the drill.
We are both going away on vacation, so no updates for more than week.
Sorry guys.