Rewind and Play

1996

---

Samuel

It was the end of the year. The sun was shining, but the cold breeze was a reminder that Christmas was just around the corner.

It had been quite funny to see how much Nico had been annoyed at Alice’s letter of dismissal. He had rarely used the bus before, but now? He was there every single day, just to glare at her.

Of course, as a consequence of that fall-out, our already tenuous friendship didn’t survive. Not that I minded it: I had other, better, actual, friends. And I could do with playing less videogames anyway.

“The fucker,” said Alice one morning, “he’s starting to get onto my nerves. And you,” she gave me a scathing look for good measure, “you are not helping.”

“Me?” I asked, my face the picture of innocence.

I had been especially affectionate and nice with Alice, truth to be said. Yes, it had been partially to stir the pot a little but, mainly, it was just because she did deserve it and I was finding it more and more difficult to play it cool around her.

Clearly, Alice didn’t know what to make of it.

Clearly, Alice was not really interested in having anything to do with me past being friends.

Which was cool. Or would be, as soon as I got over myself.  

Christmas might help. Not being around her would help.

Unfortunately, that meant being home, seeing my father, who had arrived the night before, from God knows where.

My mom never told me much about his movements, and I didn’t want to know. I was happy to support my family of three, but I wanted nothing to do with him. When he was home, we just avoided one another carefully, because I was too much of a coward to face him directly and ask him to leave. He was too coward to face me and start something that could go very wrong, very quickly. After all, I was now a good head taller than him.

I wanted to finish secondary school, find a job and, once I could consider myself the actual man of the house, kick him out once and for all as he deserved. Until then, I had to weather his presence in front of the TV for a couple of weeks, stick to my bedroom, listen to lots of music in between, and avoid any thoughts of Alice.

Once my father was out of the picture, hopefully we could all get our shit together.

I returned back from my black thoughts just in time to spot that Alice was looking at me, a questioning look on her face. We were listening REM, again. Apparently, Michael Stipe “is an absolute god and nothing and no one will ever make me change my mind”.

“You haven’t said anything in the last ten minutes,” she said, looking at me, her head tilted to one side, perceiving a disturbance in the Force; “which is very weird, for you.”

She didn’t say anything else for a bit. Then, she pressed stop on the CD player: “Would you rather we listened to some David Bowie to cheer you up? Or I can let you hug me, make me uncomfortable and make Nico spit some fire out.”

One corner of my lips tugged up involuntarily. It didn’t last, but it was a good effort on her part: “Only if you put on Hunky Dory. I don’t want to hear any more Ziggy Stardust.”

“Of course, of course.”

The first few minutes of the trip passed in silence. I could not help but think of the two weeks I would have to spend avoiding him in my own house. I just sat in silence, letting the music fill me up, staring at the browns and greys mixing outside.

We hadn’t spoken much about our families. I knew she had a small sister and a very outspoken mother and she knew I had an older sister and a mother, but I was pretty sure I never mentioned a father.  

“Everything ok?” she ended up asking, a low murmur. One couldn’t keep her quiet too long, after all. Her eyes were the colour of moss, and had a worried quality about them.

My answer wasn’t particularly enlightening: “What? Ah, yeah. My dad’s home.”

“Is everything all right? I have…”

“I don’t think I want to talk about it, Ali, if you don’t mind.”

Alice nodded and looked out of the window, chewing on her lip but keeping her mouth shut.

It didn’t feel good to show her that side of me. I much preferred being the open, sharing, overly affectionate version of myself, but that morning I couldn’t find it in me to be that person, and not for lack of trying.

Bare trees raised their arms and fingers towards the sky, outside the confines of the bus. We could see the Alps in the distance, this morning. They would disappear when the evening mist came to blanket the world in its wake.

Stove and chimneys would be lit to keep homes warm; I could almost imagine the smell of a burning fire… Wait, was that actual smoke I was smelling?

I turned my head towards the centre of the bus and sniffed again.

Definitely smoke. Tendrils of blue-grey smoke were coming out of the place where, most likely, the engine was located. A foul-smelling fog started to fill the vehicle, slightly alarmed shouts coming from the passengers, even the ones who had boarded deep in their morning stupor.

It was finally happening. The rickety bus, that had somehow gotten to the halfway point of the year, finally packed it.

An angry “fuck’s sake”, could be heard across the bus, causing general hilarity, while the angry driver swerved to end up parked near the entrance of a big home store, in the middle of absolute nowhere.

We all filed out of the bus.

I felt a little sorry for the bus and its slightly sad ending. The thing was just sitting there, fuming gently, its engine turned off.

The driver had a cell phone, a StarTAC, which none of us knew how he could afford. He moved away from the bus, and the crowd of my fellow jubilant passengers, talking angrily and pointing at the bus like the person on the other end of the line could see what was happening.

I was contemplating the scene, hands in my pockets, when I noticed Alice’s bewildered stare.

When I didn’t comment, she came and tugged at my sleeve.  

That gained her a distracted look, to which she replied: “Sami, it’s happening. What would you like to do with our free time?”

“Our? Free time?”

“Yes, Marchetti. If we don’t get into school on time, we are going to skip school altogether.”

Wait, what?

Alice Giannelli was proposing to skip school? That did get a reaction out of me, my gaze focusing on her now emerald, bright, shiny, eyes: “But… But you have never done it and I’m pretty sure you told me once you’d never do it!” I almost spluttered, alarmed.

“And I would never do it, intentionally. But how many more times is the bus going to break down before I finish secondary school? Or, even better, in what remains of this year, which is all I have before you are done with secondary school?”

Was she wiggling her eyebrows at me? That made me break into a smile: “Giannelli, you shock me.”

Alice looked so incredibly relieved that I felt a rush of affection for her pathetic efforts at trying to cheer me up. And pathetic they might have been, but they were also definitely working.

“What can I say, I am a rebel,” she said, still wiggling those eyebrows.

“Stop that, you are going to get a facial paralysis,” I said, but I wasn’t displeased at all, and I couldn’t help it when my arm went around her back, squeezing her into me lightly in a side hug.

The angry driver was back: “Listen up lads, they are going to send another bus but it won’t be here for another half an hour, they say. It’s the Riva bus, so it needs to come back from its service there.”

An actual cheer went up from the crowd.

“Ok so… If the bus is not here for another half an hour, and it takes us another ten minutes to get to the bus station in San Giuliano… We are in the clear,” Alice told me, excitedly.

“You are positively evil, Giannelli. I am more and more impressed by the minute. Come, let’s sit somewhere.”

I knew what she was trying to do, and I did appreciate it. Possibly more than she knew. I wanted to thank her for that, the only way I could think of.

Alice looked around: “where?”

Smiling, I took her by the arm to a nearby guard rail, on which we both sat down.

I thought for a couple of seconds then, after a murmured “excuse me,” I gently took her arm, putting it on my leg, wrist up. Before she could feel awkward about it, I fished a BIC biro from my pocket, took the cap out with my mouth, and, after pushing the sleeve of her coat up a little further, started drawing on her wrist.  

Once she knew what was happening Alice relaxed and watched, fascinated.

“God, I wish I had any artistic abilities…” she murmured, like she didn’t want to distract me. She couldn’t. Once I was in the zone, there was no taking me out of it. Despite the roar of the engines on the road, the driver’s shouts, and the noise of the other passengers, I could only see the small, open book I was drawing on her wrist, letters floating out of the fluttering pages.

I could feel Alice’s gaze stuck on the drawing, and suddenly I stopped feeling the cold. I tried to draw with as much detail as possible, despite the slightly difficult canvas I was using. Her skin was so soft, and smooth. I was trying my best not to hurt her.

It took me less than five minutes to finish it, during which Alice did not utter another word.

“Voilà!”

Alice’s eyes stayed glued to her own wrist. She swallowed and nodded: “Samuel, it’s incredible. Thank you so much.”

I shrugged: “It was just to pass the time… Better on you than me.”

I did not want to make a big deal out of it, but I loved that I could do something for her exclusively, to thank her for reading me so well, and trying to cheer me up. I gave Alice a grin and asked: “So, what are we going to do with our four hours before getting the bus back?”

“We? I thought you were going to see your school people, or Nico and the others…”

“I have you to thank for my most recent mood swing; why don’t we do something together, this morning? I’ll have plenty of other times to skip school with the lads.”

Alice thought about it for a moment.

“I have an idea…”

---

“Ok, the picnic spread is not fantastic, but the place and the company so far are not disappointing.”

We were sitting on a stone bench, in front of the remains of the San Giuliano castle. Because yes, there was an old castle in town, like in many other parts of Italy.

It took us almost an hour to get there, but sure, we had nothing but time.

We went through the narrow, cobbled streets and climbed up the hill overlooking town, the smell of rotten leaves, still blanketing the ground, enveloping us. Once we reached the top, we entered the park that surrounded the castle remains, one lonely, crumbly, tower overlooking a meadow.

Being a week day in winter, there was barely anyone around. A man was walking a dog and someone else was running on the path that cut through the meadow and looped around the hilltop.

Because of the walk, and because a pale sun was shining in the equally anaemic sky, we weren’t cold yet. We overturned our backpacks to make a “table” for the “picnic”: an apple, two packets of crackers, two mandarins, one bottle of water and a yogurt, with one spoon.  

“Look, if you want to complain, suit yourself. I am but a poor student so I couldn’t buy more than maybe, a packet of Big Babol.”

“I am joking, Giannelli! Let’s eat this lovely snack, now.”

I opened the first packet of crackers and offered her one, like I was giving her the best dish on the planet.

Alice accepted it with a smile but as soon as she put the cracker in her mouth and started chewing on its desert-dry salty surface, she started coughing.

Laughing, I offered her water.

Some more sputtering happened. Alice said: “God, I hate crackers; I am sure they make them as dry as they can on purpose.”

“You would be right too. Ali…”

“Yes, Sami.”

“I am sorry I was a bit weird before. And thanks for cheering me up, I really needed it. You knew it straight away.”

“Ah, what’s some school skipping if I can see that lovely smile back on your face?”

I couldn’t hide the gratitude that was making me burst at the seams. I had to give her something more: “My dad came home, yesterday.”

“Oh.” She looked at me, trying to gauge if she could ask more: “What happened? If you don’t mind sharing.”

“The short version is that when my dad comes home, it’s always bad news.”

“I am so sorry to hear that, Sami.” Alice paused, thought for a moment, then continued: “can I do anything for you, and should we move on from this conversation this very moment?”

“You already did plenty, idiot. And yes, please.”

Alice had been busy trying to pry open a mandarin; she turned to look at me, and I am pretty sure she caught the softness I felt in my gaze looking at her.

Her eyes became slits, and she thrusted the mandarin into my face: “There, if you eat some crackers and some mandarin, I might not have to use the Heimlich manoeuvre on you.”

I took the fruit from her fingers and resumed peeling it, looking up into the sky, where some fat white clouds were now drifting slowly towards the far Alps.

“It’s a beautiful day,” I said, trying to ignore my feelings.

“This is a beautiful spot. I’ve never been here, but if I knew it was so nice I would’ve come sooner.”

“I’ve been here last year for the end of year play at school. It is even better in summer.”

Silence was comfortable between us.  

We were looking over the town, when the chill in the air finally caught up with Alice, who shivered.

Of course, I noticed. I moved the backpacks to the other side and scooted closer to Alice.

“Come here,” I said, bringing her near me with a gentle pull on her shoulder. I touched her hand: “You are freezing!”

One arm circling her shoulders, I brought her as close to me as possible without actually having her sitting on my lap. Neither was ready for anything like that.

With my other hand, I twined my fingers with hers, because that little bit I felt would be ok, for now.

“I’ll change it to the other one hand in a bit. Just to warm you up,” I murmured, in case she was feeling like bolting.

The sounds of the town below were just barely reaching us.

I wasn’t too cold to begin with, but Alice’s nearness made me feel warmer still. I could feel her tiny, smooth, fingers under my callused ones. My thumb traced her wrist, where the little book was. Alice’s face looked a little flushed, too, like her body temperature had suddenly risen steeply.

At least, I did have some effect on her, too.

But it wasn’t only the physical reaction to her that overwhelmed me. I wanted to shelter her head to toe. Take care of her. Listen to her ramble on about this or that group.

I rested my chin on top of her head.

Alice didn’t say anything for a long time, and neither did I. I felt at peace, comfortable. I didn’t want the morning to ever end.