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Authors: Renée Riva

Tags: #Tuscany, #dog, #14-year-old, #vacation, #catastrophe, #culture shock

Taking Tuscany (9 page)

BOOK: Taking Tuscany
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The guy hands me a flier with the rates on it, and points down the beach. I can see others waiting, so that must be where the boat takes off from.

“Grazie!”
I take off running toward our hotel. I figure if Cousin Nicky could do this, there is no reason why I can't. I have always dreamed of flying and this is probably as close as I'll ever get. The more I think about it, the faster I run.

“Hey, Daddy!” I bellow, the minute I'm within yelling distance of the pool. “I want to go up in the air behind a boat!”

Daddy casually lowers his magazine. “Do what?”

“Fly behind a boat like a kite on a string! Remember what Nicky did in Mexico?”

“You mean parasailing?”

“Yeah, that's it—
parasailing
! Can I go?” I hand Daddy the rate sheet.

He does not appear enthused. “It's not cheap, is it?”

“I can pitch in some of my birthday money—I've got a small wad leftover.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? You'll be up there pretty high.”

“Sure I'm sure. It's only water below, right?”

He sighs. “Well, let's see what Mom has to say about it.”

“Are you nuts, A. J.? That's the craziest thing I've ever heard—a human kite?”

“Oh, Mama, if Cousin Nicky did it, anyone can. Daddy says I can if you let me.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Mama glances out from under the rim of her big sun hat, trying to spot Daddy. She's on the sunny side of the pool, Daddy's on the shady side.

“Well, I'll tell you what, if Daddy says he's willing to go with you and watch, then you go right ahead, but don't expect me to watch you dangling from a string in the air. I don't think my nerves could handle it.”

“Thank you!”

I run back over to Daddy. “Let's go!”

Ten minutes later I am headed down the beach, followed by Daddy, J. R., Dino, Benji, Adriana, and yes, even Mama. They've all come to watch me fly.

After I've asked the man to repeat the instructions for the fifth time, he signals to his crew to take over. Three big guys strap me into a harness, and get ready to launch me.

“Daddy, are you sure they buckled me in here right?”

“You look good to go, kid.”

“Are you sure—” Before I can finish my personal safety check, the boat takes off. The three guys are running down the beach alongside me, holding onto my harness. Then the wind catches my sail, and I am instantly swooshed into the air. My cheering section below is going wild, especially Mama, but I'm not sure if she's cheering or screaming. I continue climbing higher and higher … and higher. I'm presently feeling a little dizzy … and a little queasy …
quizzy
. Come to think of it, I do have a tiny fear of heights. The higher I go, the quizzier I get.

Passing through the ozone layer, I beginning worrying about the tow rope detaching from my harness … and if it does … I'll be carried out to sea by the wind in my sail … and won't come down until I'm way out in the middle of the ocean … sharks …
I can't breathe
…


Help
!” I've changed my mind. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I'm kicking my legs and waving my arms like a puppet on a string. A tangled string! Oh, this blasted contraption. “Get me down!” I don't want to fly, I don't want to die … “Mama!”

Can't they hear me down there? Whoa … looking down makes my head spin, so I close my eyes. Oooh, it can get worse. I open my eyes. Whose idiotic idea was this, anyway? People weren't meant to fly. “Mama, help me! Stop the boat! Get me down!”

No one's listening. No one cares. I might be passing out … then I'll drown … surrounded by hungry sharks …

After ten full minutes of mind-blasting torment, the boat slows up along the shoreline.
Finally
. I'm floating down … slowly, slowly, down toward the beach. I look for the big guys whose job it is to catch me, and spot three tiny dots waving their arms. If this were Adriana, there'd be twenty of them fighting to catch her. I picture myself coming in for a landing while they all stick their hands back in their pockets, arguing over who's going to catch me.

“You get her.”

“No, you get her.”

Then they'll all back away, and watch me splat face first in the sand. The shell seekers along the beach will be shaking their heads: “If only she looked like her sister, this never would have happened.”

I'm floating down over the beach trying to convince myself this would probably not
really
happen, when a huge gust of wind sweeps into my sail and jolts me back out over the water.
What the heck?
I'm too paralyzed to even scream.
I'm doomed. I'm going to die. Sharks …

The cool water quickens my senses, which is the only reason I've come to. I feel myself being reeled in toward the boat by my harness, then I'm hoisted up and over the side of the boat like a trophy fish on a hook.

Speeding back toward land, I spot my family on shore. Talk about humiliating. I'm so embarrassed I could die. Mama will say, “I told you so.” Daddy will say, “What a waste of good money.” The boys will say, “What a
girl.
” Adriana will say, “What did we expect from our drama queen anyway?”

Climbing out of the boat, I turn to face my accusers. Instead of sneering … they're all cheering for me.

“Bravo, kiddo!” Mama lets out one of her big whistles.

“Was it cool up there, or what?” Dino asks.

Or what! Didn't they hear me screaming for my mama like a two-year-old? Didn't they see the flying nutcase? … Guess not. Maybe they couldn't hear me from way up there . . .

“Uh … yeah, it was … unbelievable.”

“I even heard you calling my name,” Mama says, “so I finally uncovered my eyes and saw you waving at me. You looked like you were having the time of your life up there.”

“ … I sure was.”

7

Postcards from Paradise

Dear Danny,

We're on vacation. Here is a picture of our hotel and beach. If you look at the little white cloud in the sky at the top of the postcard, that's where I was yesterday. I went parasailing—as in: a human kite tied behind a boat. Not as fun as it looked. Landed in the bay. Lucky to be alive. If you ever get asked to try it, just say no.

Wish I were there,

A. J.

Adding a personal touch, I draw a little stick figure of myself up by the cloud, hooked to a sail, with sharks circling in the water below. I add a little word bubble, “Help!”

I've decided to keep my feet on the ground today and come up with an ending for this dang novel. Now I'm torn between two new endings.

Unpredictable Ending: Janeà sees the guy in the park with the dog named Christopher. She runs to him … but when she reaches him … it's not Tanner. It's Joe. Even though Joe is really cute, his dogs remind Janeà too much of her past life. “So long, Joe. You really are cute, but … your dogs bring back too many memories from the corners of my mind.”

“B-but, Janeà … we can make this work … I'll trade them in for poodles … ”

“Forget about me, Joe … I hate poodles.” Janeà jumps on a ship and sails back home. She shows up back at her island and everything has changed, except the little hut that she grew up in. “Anyone here?” she yells. The two dogs come running out to meet her. But where's Tanner?

She notices a note tied to Christopher's collar. “I've gone to Milan to search for Janeà. Please feed the dogs.”

The End

I think I'll go mail my postcard.

On my way through the lobby, I pass the gift shop where I plan to buy all of my souvenirs before returning home. Scanning the items in the window display, my eyes catch on a painting titled
Paradise
, and I put the skids on my sandals. It's the same image I've had in my head ever since I was a kid: a small child wearing a white robe, leading all of the animals through paradise. This is how I picture heaven, and what I hope to be doing once I'm up there.

What I really like about the painting are the bright colors. Crystal prism colors;
like the prisms in the movie
Pollyanna.
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, all in a gold frame … I'm fascinated how the little child is leading the animals toward a bright sunset—so bright, it leaves you feeling like they're being led to Jesus. That's what good art should do … leave one feeling led to Jesus. After all, God created the artist and gave him the gift, and if he uses his gift to inspire, it should reflect his Creator …

“Hey, A. J., I gotta go to the bathroom. I need your room key. The pool bathroom's being cleaned.”

Dino is dripping wet in his swimsuit, with a towel draped around his waist. Handing off my key, I focus back on the masterpiece in the window. “Hey, Dino, what do you think of that painting?”

Dino cocks his head to one side. “Pretty dumb.” He drips his way down the hall.

Another inspired moment snatched away by a pesky brother. I check the price. Too much. Back to plan A. Cheap trinket souvenirs.

“One postage stamp please.”

The man at the concierge desk hands me a stamp.

“Charge it to room 503.”

The man frowns at me. “You're from room 503?”

“Yes, sir,”

“I have a phone message for you.” He takes a slip of paper from our room box. ”Do you know this person?”

I look at the name. Juliana Gulliano. “Yep, that's my Nonna.”

He glares at me. “She said her family abandoned her and left the country.”

I just smile. “Yep, that's Nonna. I'll give my folks the message. Thanks.” It's really not worth the energy trying to explain Nonna to people.

Returning to the pool, I notice Mama's engaged with more tourists, so I just hand Daddy the message. “She told the desk clerk we abandoned her and left the country.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, she talked to a different desk clerk this time. By the time we leave, no one will be smiling at us anymore. Are you planning to call her back this time?”

“No, it didn't help last time. I'm sure she'll be just fine at Aunt Gen's until we get back.”

Daddy crumples up the note and goes back to his crossword puzzle. A few minutes later the desk clerk comes out and waves me back into the lobby. He sends me back to the pool with a pool phone on a very long cord. “Daddy, it's Aunt Genevieve this time.”

“Oh, great,” he mumbles. “Hello, Genevieve, what's going on?”

Leaning closer, all I catch is Aunt Gen's high tones of hysteria.

Daddy calmly replies, “She always does that, Gen, just take the scissors away from her and hide them.”

Mama comes over and I tell her it's her sister. She sits next to Daddy and tries to listen in too.

“Well, if you don't want her cutting paper doll chains out of your bed sheets just give her some paper instead.”

All I can catch is, “
Something, something
… statues.”

“Don't worry, she won't take your statues with her, she just misses having her own to talk to.”

Daddy cups the phone, and whispers, “She rounded up all the Greek statues in the house, dragged them to her room, and is now cutting the bed sheets into paper doll chains.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, give me the phone.”

Daddy willingly hands over the phone.

“Genevieve, I have been caring for our mother for over three years now. You've had her for what …
two days
?
And you're calling us on our vacation to whine over a few bed sheets? Grow up
.

Mama hangs up.

Nice to see Mama's talking to her sister again.

Daddy looks over at Mama and says, “Soph, I think there are very few people in this world gifted enough to deal with your mother … and you may be it.” Then he stands up and holds out his hand to her. “So what do you say we hit some waves?”

Mama and Daddy are splashing each other in the waves like a couple of kids. It's so weird to see grown-ups not acting their age. At least they have each other to help get their minds off Nonna and the strange relatives we aren't talking to.

Sinking comfortably into my beach chair, I immerse myself in
Doctor Zhivago
. I am really enjoying where Yuri and Lara find each other again after the war ends. He shows up on her doorstep as a human ice cube, then he goes inside to defrost in her cozy little apartment. But pretty soon I'm thinking, wait a minute here, this Yuri guy is married to sweet Tonya now, and here he is back with Nurse Lara. But you almost want him back with Lara because they loved each other before. Then I realize how horrible it is to make your reader like both women and you don't know which one he should pick. But, really, Yuri's a jerk for being with both of them since he's married to Tonya. I'm so disturbed over having my emotions compromised!

I slam the book shut, refusing to finish it. I will not put my readers in a compromising situation like that in
Moon over Milan
.

Adriana comes over and pulls up a chair next to me. “What are you reading?”

“Well, I was reading
Doctor Zhivago
, until Yuri decided to be in love with that Nurse Lara again after he married Tonya. I refuse to spend my summer vacation with a two-timing doctor who can't make up his mind.”

“Yeah, well, if that bothered you, it's probably best to quit now then. I saw the movie—it only gets worse.”

“Sounds like another love tragedy gone wrong.” I'll have to end
Moon over Milan
on a happy note to help balance the scales with these tragic love stories they keep coming out with.

“So, speaking of tragic love stories, how would you like to go dancing at the beach club tonight?”

“How is that related to tragic love stories?”

“Well, when you dance with the Italians, they always convince themselves they're madly in love because foreign girls seem so intriguing to them. They'll tell the story for generations to come about the American girl they once danced with who stole their heart and left them. They love the drama.”

“Well …” Adriana's never invited me along before. “I don't know.”

“Come on. It'll be fun.”

“But I don't know how to dance anything but the
kalamatianos
.”

“Oh, just come anyway—I don't want to look like I've shown up alone.”

Okay, I get it. It's not sisterly bonding she's after—she just needs me there as a fixture to keep from looking stupid. Whatever. Back to my novel.

Romantic Ending: Janeà walks by the park and two big Saint Bernards come running over. They jump all over her like they can't get over seeing her again. Then some guy yells, “Christopher, Robin, get down!” He comes over to apologize for his dogs, but suddenly stops. “Janeà?” He whispers. “Can it be?”

“Tanner? Is it really you?”

He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the lucky rabbit's foot. “Here, you made me promise to give this back to you someday. I've been to kingdom come and back looking for you. It's been gnarly, but here I am.”

Like two magnets attracting from opposite ends of the earth, Tanner and Janeà fall headlong into an embrace. Tanner takes Janeà's face in his hands and looks into her sparkling chartreuse eyes. “You could have left a forwarding address, you know?”

She looks back into his hypnotic hazelnut eyes. “But then you would have mailed it back. This way you had to come in person.” She looks down at the rabbit's foot that brought them back together, and a tear falls from her eye. “You got it all dirty …”

“You're such a girl,” Tanner replies. He draws her lips to his and gently devours them, while Christopher and Robin bark for joy under the moon over Milan.

The End

I can relate to how Herman Melville must have felt the day he finished writing
Moby Dick
. What a relief!

On the way to dinner we pass by
Paradise
again. I linger a bit as we walk by
. I sure would like to buy that.
Maybe if I bought it, it would help remind me to pray—for my enemies, like Annalisa. Help pray her into heaven. Actually she might already believe, in which case I'd have to pray that she likes me by the time we get to heaven or that we live at opposite ends. Maybe Daddy would loan me some money to buy it—I could tell him I'd pray for him more often if I could borrow the money …

“Get along, little doggie, you're holding up the whole herd.”

This probably isn't the time to ask him for the money.

BOOK: Taking Tuscany
9.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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