Erik
We set out the following day.
Her negotiation surprised me, and I agreed to her childish whims if only to witness her regret when the journey became too difficult. She was a naive thing. Maybe I wanted to see that tempered. Though I felt trepidation about my sudden deal with the girl, I mused on the possibilities. Money would beget choices. I could leave Italy and find somewhere new. All was not over for me. I would start anew, like I had done before. I would likely face something similar in the future.
After our mutually disastrous attempt at creating a meal, we settled for a bland, filling breakfast of ground oats and salt, huddled around the small oak table. She handed me a decent cup of black tea.
"Oh, wait a minute. I almost forgot!" She hurried to the counter table and ceremoniously splashed a lemon slice into the cup.
Her dress suited her nicely, complimenting her warm skin and brightening the dreary space. Indeed, it would allow more movement as we traveled, hopefully limiting the complaining. We gathered several spare essentials—dear uncle had left some useful things behind. With her permission, I packed a pen and notebook she had found earlier. She was uncovetous and gave away her possessions freely.
"Take it. No one has been to this place in ages. Such a waste..." She then offered me a too-short shirt and a comb. "For your hair," she said. I stuffed them in the leather sack, uncomfortable with the barrage of gifts.
Not soon after, she leveraged a fence to lift onto the gelding's back; she stared at me in expectation.
"Well, are you coming?" She offered a hand as if I needed her help.
My muscles ached fiercely, the insides of my thighs stinging with every movement. Exerting pressure near my groin terrified me. But she did not need to know that.
"I prefer to walk."
Rome's outskirts remained blessedly quiet. I preferred the amenities that cities provided and resigned myself to dealing with the inevitable crowds of people I would encounter. The countryside, however, beckoned me in its own right. Several shepherds corralled their sheep distances away, and the ever-present Apennines guarded the sky. We allowed ourselves silence for several hours.
"I wanted to make you aware. I am quite concerned about how others will perceive us."
I tensed at her comment, prepared for the inevitable questioning about my mask. I had severe doubts about whether she could make it this far with me. The girl would probably wind up alerting the authorities in the nearest town, convinced of my untrustworthiness. In that case, I readied myself to take the gelding and leave the entire mess behind.
"Who cares?" I barked rudely. "You will never see these people again."
"It is not right."
"If you did not wish to travel with me simply because of my appearance, you need not have done so!"
She had the decency to look guilty. "Oh! That is not what I meant! Only that, well, I am unmarried, and we are the same age."
"We are not the same age." She acted twice as young as I.
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen, I think."
"You think?"
"It does not matter! We are decidedly not married, mademoiselle. So what? I do not see the problem."
"It is inappropriate! Oh, what would father think?"
"He is not here." I sighed. "If it concerns you so much, we are brother and sister, traveling to our dear uncle's."
Her face tensed, then slacked. "Very well."
I could not help myself. "So lying is fine. It is only how it looks that matters."
"Appearances matter. And people would hardly understand."
I couldn't agree more.
Nearing sunset, we found an inn. Though I suggested pitching camp with our newfound supplies, she immediately argued. "I will not sleep outdoors if I do not have to."
I felt no great compunction to weather the elements, so I let it go. Places like this served French soldiers occupying Rome. Two sat in a corner, drinking beers. The elderly innkeeper squared his cataract-laden eyes at me. "We do not permit criminals here. Leave now."
Gi shoved forward. "We are not criminals, sir." She stated it matter-of-factly as if we were average travelers. I cringed at her use of French, which would likely make it more challenging to get a room. He swatted his hand in our direction as one would dismiss a fly. "But, sir! My brother and I desperately need lodgings for the night!"
"You Sicilians and your lies! You will have no quarter here!"
"I am not Sicilian, sir."
"Bah! Do not fool me, girl. Scram off with your miscreant relations, or I shall call the police."
At that, I grabbed her arm, almost dragging her out of the old, smelly tavern. Several guests alerted to our presence, muttering and staring. "Do not make such a show out of yourself!"
"How could he treat us like that? We just asked for a room! He treated us as if, as if-" She trailed off and eyed the entrance like she had half a mind to barge it down and demand a room.
"Look at me!"
Her eyes were large and brown, her mouth wide and downturned in distaste. Her delicate brow scrunched, and her nostrils flared in anger. She yanked her arm back. Petulant.
"You must have realized something was different about me."
"Well, yes, of course. You are incredibly strange."
The silence stood for a while. I glared, but she refused to open her mouth.
"This?" I inquired, gesturing weakly towards my head.
"You do have a wonderful head of hair. It is so, how do you say, voluminous."
"You…you refuse to understand!"
"You do not need to lecture me. People decide how they treat you based on your appearance, yes?" The sudden change from a tantrum almost gave me whiplash. I was silent, unable to conjure any words. "Perhaps I was afraid at first. But I know you enough now. I am sorry for my mistrust of you. It was unearned." I know she wanted some kind of acknowledgment, but I could offer her nothing.
We searched for a place to rest. Fortunately, we found a suitable spot near several large oaks. Our lean-to consisted of a small calfskin blanket and several thin sheets. I gathered enough kindling to create a moderate fire while she readied the horse for the night. Later, we pulled the salted pork apart and chewed on it, disinterested.
"He called you Sicilian."
She shrugged. "I have no clue as to why. I am American."
American. I had never met an American. Of course, I knew about the country's reputation. Uncultured and backward, some had said. My curiosity was insatiable, and the country's ethos excited me. Its mythologized doctrine of new beginnings and ready acceptance of all, no matter who appealed to me profoundly.
"You are not used to being treated like that," I observed.
"No, but I have witnessed others. We have all kinds of people in New York." She said, grabbing a stick and throwing it into the fire.
"Why are you in Italy?"
"To meet my uncle."
"For what?" All that luggage, stuffed in the large trunk…
"Are you not the one with the incessant questions?" She tossed another stick, and the flames swallowed it.
"Fine. If I tell you something, you must return the favor. No questions about the mask."
She nodded. "My father thinks I should find a husband. European and of good stock, to be exact."
"It sounds like you're picking out a cow, " she giggled, delightedly feminine. "And you do not want this?"
"Ah ah! My turn. Why were you in the woods?"
That answer had everything to do with the mask. "My guardian ended our mutually agreed upon relationship. I left the city, only to lose my horse. I was looking for it when I found you and your beleaguered companion." There, it was true enough. "I suppose it was a coincidence I saw you and your unfortunate driver."
"He was only there to transport me from the boat to my uncle's, " she said, shaking her head slowly. "Can we truly not go back?"
"It is me or him. And I am the one breathing, might I remind you?" She scowled, and I watched the flames dance. The element of fire has always fascinated me—its ability to comfort and destroy powerful and ancient. Despite her sullenness, I pushed on: "And your father's profession?"
"You mean why I had such fine clothing?" She scoffed.
"In as many words."
"He owns cotton mills. And he does things with investments and stocks and whatnot."
"Ah." Why had I expected something more exciting, a gold miner or a railroad magnate? It felt so banal.
"Where are you from?"
"France."
"I had already guessed that, silly. Where specifically?"
"I am done with this game. Goodnight." What was the point of sharing personal details? We would get to Venice, and this entire escapade, though unexpected, would be finished. She looked disappointed, like I had kicked a puppy, but cooperated.
"Where are you going?"
As I was beholden to her! "Away."
"You are not leaving me, are you?" The way she said it was so accusatory as if I would abandon her at any moment. Perhaps I might have. I did savor her desperation.
I huffed. "Merely a walk. This area is safe. No one is about."
Restless, I wandered the woods the entire night, spotting various fauna as I had explored as a child. It settled my overactive imaginings. The past few days destabilized my fragile sense of comfort, and I needed distance. Nearing dawn, extremely loud screeching interrupted my thoughts.
"What! What is it?"
"A spider! Oh, Erik, I hate spiders!"
Oh please! "I thought you loved animals. And you have your gloves on. You need not touch him."
"That- that is not- could you just please get rid of it!"
"It. Ah yes, of course." I cupped the ugly black spider, cradling it in my palm. Out of a desperate need for amusement or perhaps my mischievousness, I jerked the creature forward.
Her eyes widened as she slapped my arm and wrestled away. "Oh, you wicked thing!"
Her touch distracted me, and I dropped the spider on her blanket-covered lap. I realized I had killed the last person who said that to me.
"Oh, Get off, get off!" The spider scattered away in fear.
Her pupils were blown. Her breath came in pants. "Why did you do that? I needed your help!"
"You surprised me."
"What? How?" Though she couldn't possibly understand. Touch was so normal for one such as her. Her chest rapidly rose and fell, and she waved her hand. "All the same. We need to get up." She dusted herself, and I noted embarrassingly that she was only in a shift. I looked away. "Venice awaits."