Writing Contest 2/Maxwestt

This is Maxwestt's issue for the Writing Contest 2. It is about GIacomo Agriolo.

Giacomo Agriolo, day 73
I can see one of them down there in the valley. He’s alone. Or is it a she? Does it matter? No, it doesn’t. From up here I can’t even tell if it still has all its limbs. Might be an arm is cut off or there’s a foot missing. Hard to say, when they’re lying down. It just looks so peaceful right now. It could’ve been a kitten, a puppy, a baby, even a giant elephant for that matter, wouldn’t matter, because it’s asleep. I think. Still not sure if they sleep or just… I don’t know, rest. Maybe they don’t at all.

I can hear someone coming closer to me. From the way they shuffle over the grass, I assume it’s my older sister, Luciana. She knows not to interrupt me when I’m deep in thought, that just makes me cranky. Not like papa, who just shouts when he needs something. Not that Luciana doesn’t shout, when there’s a problem or a danger she will, but she likes to keep it personal more than to just keep at a distance. I like that, it assures me she actually listens when you speak and watches what you do.

“Bonjor,” I say to her “What is it, Luciana?”

As I look over my shoulder to see her face, a completely different voice greets me.

“Bonjor, Giacomo.” It’s my mother, not my sister. I forgot, she is quiet too. But unlike my sister, she’s always quiet. “Why did you leave the car without waking us? We were very scared.” She looks at me, not angry, but a bit disappointed.

I sigh. “I know mama, I know. I shouldn’t just go out and wander off. But the air in there was just killing me. It smelled like some poor animal had rotten in there for months. I just couldn’t take it anymore, and got out a few hours ago.”

“Hours?” My mother looks worried. “Did you even sleep at all?”

“No.”

“Well you should sleep.”

I sigh again. “I know I should sleep, but it’s very hard to sleep when I can’t sleep, okay?”

“Well you should try to get more sleep anyway.”

I turn my head away. There’s just no talking to that woman. It always looked like she was better in knitting than thinking, but it all got a lot worse since we got to Sicily. She now just lets everything up to my father.

I look back at the shape in the valley. It seems to have moved a little. Maybe a few metres. Not much. But from here I can see it’s a cammino. We don’t know what they’re called officially, but we just call them that. It’s short for camminatore, which means something like walker. I think it’s a funny name. They don’t really walk, it’s more like they stand up, struggle to make a few steps, and fall down. Then again. And again. They’re not very quick. We haven’t had much problem with them. Not with the cammini.

I stand up and take one last look at the valley. How I wish I had my camera now. The greens of the grass and trees look beautiful against the blue and white of the sky and the greys of the cliffs in the distance, looming over the sea. And the big red coat in the middle just makes it look perfect.

“All ready to go?” My father asks as he swing his knapsack on his shoulder. I nod, my sister murmurs something inaudible and my mother just keeps quiet. “Right, let’s’a go then.”

So we’re off. Yesterday, we passed through another deserted village on the way here, but my father told us to keep moving. We still had a few hours of daylight. So we camped at this old broken car. Now we’re only a few hours from the ferry point, where we hope we will be brought back to the mainland of Italy and get off this island. Sicily isn’t that bad, we all agreed, but it wasn’t our home. We had to at least see if Roma was still holding up well. Even though most of the island got off ok, there were still some parts overrun with cammini. We had to go around a few small overrun towns and roads, but we managed everything well. We didn’t even have to engange the cammini, except for the one time my mother fell down on the side of the road when we were being chased by a pair of them. My father took care of them quickly, together with my sister, while I protected my mother and tried to heal her. To be honest, I’m not that good of a healer, but I took a biology class in high school, so my father picked me to do that. Turns out she was just dehydrated, and didn’t say anything. When she woke up again my father grinned the biggest grin I have ever seen him make, and even my mother cracked a small smile. I just wished I could stop time then, but it wasn’t that easy.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">As we walk along the cliffs, I look down to the water rushing at the foot of the cliffs. The white foam of the water mixes with the grey of the cliffs and the black of the shadows to create some amazing colours. I stand still to watch it for a while, when my father walks up next to me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“Giacomo, tell me something.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I look at him sideways. My father is always serious, but today it’s worse. “What is it?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“What are you going to do when we meet the robbers again?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">That hit me hard. I hesitate for a moment. “I… I don’t know. I hope we never see them again.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“Yes, so do I, but we can’t stay hoping forever. This won’t be a situation where you can just take a photo of them.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I stare at my father. He’s never talked like this before. He hasn’t always been as supportive about my photography. It wasn’t until I actually made some money from it he started to appreciate my work. “I know that, but-“

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">He raises a hand. “Now, Giacomo, I respect you, you know. You managed to turn something you love into something you made money off. That’s a big thing. Not many people can do that. But, sorry to say this, you’re also a bit of a wimp.” He looks at me with a serious look in his eyes.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I look away from him and look over the cliffs. There is a sort of half circle  in these cliffs, so we can look to the other side. I can see a small hut on the other side. Abandoned, I know, we checked it half an hour ago. But from here, the hut looks very different. From the other side, it might’ve been shelter and have a nice view. But from here, it was part of the view. I once again think back to my camera, and think how good an exposition that would make.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“Giacomo.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I look back to my papa. “I know. I know I can’t lift huge boxes like your or become a boxer like Uncle Baldo.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">He nods. “Right, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Can you face the robbers again and actually do something?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I look back to the cabin. “I don’t know.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">He gruffs. “Thought so. Well, you better make up your mind fast.” I look at him again. “Do you know what he said to me? The leader guy, the big guy with the sleeve tattoo. He said ‘If I ever see you again, I will rape your wife, daughter and son in front of you before I slit their throats and throw them in the sea. If you’re smart, get off this island now.’”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I stare at him in disbelief. With every second passing I feel like the words get more intense. I stumble to say something, but am interrupted again. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know what they said.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">He walks to my sister sitting against a tree. I’m left looking at the cabin.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">As we close in on the ferry point, we see more and more people. Not weird for us. We’ve seen a lot of them the past weeks. Mostly in villages, some in the larger cities. But never this many. There must be at least two thousand people on this part of the harbour alone. I wonder how they’re all gonna get to the mainland.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">My question gets answered as there is a shout at the other side of the harbour. I can see someone standing on one of the piers holding a small boat. I’d say maybe 50 people could fit on it.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“People, please, this is the last trip I’m going to make today, government’s forbidden us from going in the dark, so, please, go to the shelter if you can’t get on right now!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Hearing the number, some of the people in the back of the huge press of people look around them to see if there are any others that would take them across. Some sulked off to the shelter, a large boatyard, while some ran to the other piers still taking people in. My father got up form his bench, shook my mother awake and shouted for my sister, who was standing at the waterside. “C’mon Luciana, we’re gonna try and get on that boat.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">My mother stares at him is disbelief. She opens her mouth to say something, but can’t make a sound. My father shakes his head. “I know, we should get to the shelter, but we might as well try.” She couldn’t answer that, so she closed her mouth again and looked to the ground. He looks back to the waterfront, where Luciana still is. “Luciana, come on!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">What he couldn’t see, what I could, was that there is someone talking to Luciana. Some tall guy with short blond hair and wearing shorts. Luciana holds her elbow with her hand and is shuffling around. I decide to just go there. “Luciana, you’re coming?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">The blond guy looks at me. “C’mon man,” he says with a heavy German accent, ”I can take care of her. Really, I can.” He smiles at me, but it just makes me uncomfortable. I grab the arm of my sister, who looks at me with big eyes, but goes with me anyway.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">When we are near the boat, we see it’s already nearly full. So my father grabs my arm and pressed through to secure us a place on the boat. He looks at some people with an angry look in his eyes and they let him pass. But some wouldn’t bulge, and he has to let some people pass himself. Somehow, he got me on the boat. There was no place to sit, no place to lie down, I would have to stand for the 4 hour journey. But if that means safety, I’ll take it. So I pick a spot next to a wall where I can at least lean, and let my sister lean against me. We find a place to sit but give it to my mother. My father’s on the other side of the ship. That’s when Luciana talks to me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“Hey, Giacomo?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“Hmm?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“What do you think about this scene?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I know what she means. I’ve been captivated myself. There must be 200 people on this boat, maybe more, and they’re pressed together and tired, every one of them. But it’s beautiful. Everyone here has a story of their own, loved ones they lost, things they seek, et cetera. And here they all were, huddled together on a small boat, heading for the mainland of Italy. We were there with them. “I think it’s… special.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">My sister grins at me. “Yeah, me too. I’m glad I could be here with you. You rock, little brother.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I have to laugh at my sister, how awkward she is and how she says those things. I get some stares from my neighbours, but they don’t bother me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“Giacomo, something else.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“Yeah?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“I… I wanna do some things on my own, okay? Like that guy just now. I want to do that by myself.”

<p class="MsoNormal">I stare at her again. “Really? Well, that’s great.”

<p class="MsoNormal">She smiles. “Yeah, it is.” She manages to squeeze in with some others against the wall. I just stare at her. She wants to do thing by herself. That’s good.

<p class="MsoNormal">And I’ll be there to protect her every step of the way.