Rewind and Play

2014

---

Samuel

It takes us half an hour to collect our stuff from the table where we decamped, and move everything into one of the spare rooms. Alice seems to be happy to follow my orders, which hopefully will get us there quicker.

Daniela and Giovanni waste no time in packing up and leaving us with keys to close up. I call Vittoria and, understandably, she is not happy. I have been telling her everything about meeting Alice, and rekindling our friendship. Vittoria is not jealous, normally, but she knows I used to have a crush on Alice, because that’s the main reason we broke up when we were teenagers. Of course, I never told Alice, but when Vittoria came to the Club Cometa that time at the Carnival Ball, and she saw me with her, she thought I was cheating on her with Alice. I was not, but it was clear, to her at least, that she wasn’t just a friend. Since then, Vittoria has always shown an active dislike towards Alice, even when we were not in touch and we were just gossiping about people from the village. How ironic is that, now.

An hour passes and Alice can start with the painting while I finish up the taping. We don’t talk much, both focused on getting underway as soon as possible. The silence is not tense, or awkward. It’s like we have done this a thousand times.

Thirty minutes more and I join Alice. The only sound is the wet slap of the rollers against the wall, and The Go! Team clamouring from Alice’s phone. She thought we’d need some coffee and some energetic music to get through the night, and she is not wrong.

“Sami.”

“Alice.”

Neither of us looks away from the painting, not wanting to waste time or taking too many pauses, in the hope we can finish job at a decent time.

“Thank you again. You didn’t have to help.”

“I did. I will always help you out, Alice, and you know it; the same way I know you will be there for me if I need it. I am very proud of what you are doing here and I like Daniela and Giovanni very much, so it’s really not a problem. It’s my pleasure.”

“You’ll be able to tell other customers that you did this. Your ego, Marchetti, really…”

“Ha, ha.”

“Listen…”

“Uh-oh…”

Alice chuckles: “Don’t be silly. I just wanted to ask you why are people meddling with your relationship. I have not forgotten we’ve left a conversation hanging because of the stupidest car accident ever.”

My painting slows down a little. I give the question actual consideration, because Alice is not like everyone else, and she asks because she actually cares. My tone comes out fiery straight away, though: “You know how people are around here…”

“Ah, well. It’s the main reason why I left.”

My relationship with Vittoria is separate from whatever this mess with Alice is. That’s at least one of the reasons why I decide to treat Alice like the friend she is, and give her the truth as I perceive it: “Exactly. Now, you also know that normally if there’s something to talk about, there’s a reason for it…”

“Has anything in particular happened?”

“Well. Vittoria is seen as very standoffish. She doesn’t come to any of the town’s celebrations, she is rarely seen out, while I quite like all of that. Don’t get me wrong, some of it is a chore but, at the same time, I live here and I have a business here, so I kind of have to do it.”

“I’ve seen plenty of couples who are at the opposite side of the spectrum, and they work just fine,” is all Alice says.

I shrug, even if I’m positive she won’t see me: “See, that’s where the village would argue the problem is. Just fine is not enough for me, apparently, even if I don’t necessarily think that’s actually it and, even if I did, I am happy with it, since I fucking chose it myself. A month doesn’t go by without a signora offering me her niece in sacrifice.”

Alice laughs: “I would love to see that. But you have lived here your whole life, as you say. You are more than capable of ignoring them. The question, I am afraid, is if you think Vittoria is just fine for you.”

I want to say that she is being harsh, but then again, I recognise the truth game we are playing, and I find it refreshing that there’s no bullshit between us.

I look briefly over my shoulder, to find Alice biting her bottom lip. She is probably thinking she doesn’t want to come across as a bitch, because she adds: “Sami, you don’t have to answer. I understand if it’s complicated because of me, or something else. I just like to see you happy, but I have been back in your life for a grand total of two seconds and I don’t want to be like everyone else around here. I also have not met or seen Vittoria around, which is weird, but totally possible if she works out of town. Long may it continue, or I have the feeling I might get my legs broken.”

I turn around, roller in hand. I want her to know that I understand where she’s coming from, that this uncanny connection we have is something I feel too. I smile and reply: “I know you are not like them. And I know why you are asking.”

I turn around and resume painting, speaking slowly, for once thinking about what I am about to say: “I don’t think it was a conscious decision. Before Vicky, I met a string of weirdos, but at least they weren’t from Castelnuovo. One was going out with me and another guy at the same time: she managed to get her house painted and her boiler serviced in one go.” Alice laughs at this and a self-deprecating laugh escapes me: “Oh there’s more. Another one, she was a joy to be with, especially traveling together, but she was also a complete psycho. She used to check my phone, my emails, call me at all times. Proper stalking material.”

“Ouch.”

“Fuck yeah, ouch. I will spare you the details of the other couple of them I dated, suffice to say when I met Vittoria, her normality was probably what attracted me the most, right or wrong that might be. One sec.” I amble to where the phone has finished blasting Thunder, Lighting, Strike, and ask: “Can I pick next?”

“Of course, dumdum. You can pick all the music until the end of our lives for what you are doing tonight.”

“I will take you up on that, be careful.”

Alice’s face is red now. I love seeing the effect my words have on her, even if they are in jest.

I hit play and a very familiar intro starts playing.

“Ah, you are playing dirty.”

Smugly, I walk back and resume working, while Julian Casablancas starts berating the star system with his sexy voice: “I know. If that doesn’t make you work faster, I don’t know what will.”

“Unless Julian is waiting on the other side of the kitchen door, I doubt it. But good effort. Anyway, back to Vittoria.”

I nod, my foot tapping on the floor in synch with the music: “Back to Vittoria. There is not much else I can add, really. We started dating and I asked myself the question ‘Is this the best I am going to find for myself in this life?’ And the answer to that was yes. And here I am.”

We work in silence for a while.

“Should I feel bad about what I just said?” I ask, because let’s face it, we’ve come far enough already.

I marvel at the way we can bare our souls to one another without batting an eyelid. Especially considering that I don’t enjoy talking about myself, and, if I’m not mistaken, Alice seems to love nothing more than hiding her feelings behind a continuous string of jokes.

Alice is pondering my question: “No, I think that is something that happens quite regularly. It’s just that people don’t realise, or don’t want to see, what they are doing. You seem fairly good at self-reflection. So, thank you for sharing that with me, it must not be easy.”

“You know what? Maybe it’s because I almost see you as an external party, or maybe it’s because I feel like we have taken up things like fifteen years have not passed, but it’s not difficult. It feels oddly natural. Also, if I’m honest, I had not realised any of that until very recently.”

I cough a little and we paint, in silence, for a couple of minutes.

Then, I ask: “What about you? Anything in your soul you want to bare in this confessional?”

“I have been living abroad for what? Ten years now?” She ends up saying, like she’s been waiting for me to ask: “I think I have been in love with the idea of being somewhere else more than the actual thing. In the end, what matters is the people you surround yourself with and, with the exception of a couple of very good friends I made in Madrid, the sum total of my experience there can be considered sub-par. I mean, I love the place and I love its nightlife and food is great but can that be enough? Also, I think I would still win the contest for weirdest fucker dated, but that’s a different story.”

“Would you ever consider coming back to Italy?”

“If you had asked me before my forced holiday slash time-out period, I would’ve told you no. If you asked me now…” Alice shrugs.

“That’s good to know,” I say, trying to hide the effect those words are having on me: “I always thought you’d never come back. I thought you considered this place too small for you, or too boring. Or that you were too “different” for the good folks of Castelnuovo.”

“I feel too different for this place. But there is more space in the world for us weirdos now, and your shop thriving tells me that weirdos can be happy here too.”

“Thanks?”

Alice chuckles: “Imagine I never left.” The words escape Alice’s mouth a couple of minutes later, together with a small sigh: “What do you think would’ve happened?”

A smile spread on my lips, because I know she’s not trying to be deep here. I scratch my beard: “I think we would’ve had gorgeous children.”

“Two,” she joins in the fun.

“More than two would be outrageous in this day and age.”

“What would you prefer, a boy or a girl first?”

“I think I would love a girl.”

“Me too. I would have been a great help with renovating our house too. I am getting the knack of this.” She steps back and admires her handiwork. “Could I be your stay-at-home wife? I would make a gorgeous trophy wife.”

“You are gorgeous all right, but you’d be bored after five minutes.”

“Thanks?” she says swaying coquettishly, thinking I am not looking at her.

I am: “Don’t do that again or we will never finish the job.”

Alice blushes: “Sorry, I didn’t know you were looking.”

The fight between rationality and heart is all but lost right now: “I am always looking at you.”

She turns halfway towards me. Of course, I am looking her way.

We look at one another for a long moment and I see in her eyes a reflection of my own feelings: even if in jest, talking about a timeline in which we form a unity makes my chest constrict. The feeling borders on unpleasant. I suspect Alice can see what’s happening to me, because she says, breaking eye contact and resuming the painting: “Let us leave the what-if for the night. This is more important than that.”

“Let’s, bella.”

---

“It’s incredible how quickly we did it!”

“I mean, it’s three in the morning, but ok.”

We stand, side by side, at the entrance of Il Cavallino, the main room of the restaurant now looking fresh, white and bright, the back of the bar an elegant navy.

Alice turns around and offers her hand for a high five. I laugh tiredly and give it to her: “Loser. Let’s bring in the tables and chairs and fuck off.”

We move to the spare room. Alice grabs the first table and I bend to pick up the other side when pain spreads suddenly and horribly all over my lower back: “Ah, Christ!”

I all but drop to the floor, breathing raggedly.

Alice drops the table and run to crouch beside me: “What is it? Are you ok?”

I am not. My back has been giving me trouble over the last year or so, manual labour and odd postures I have to adopt when tattooing straining it so much that I have already had episodes like this in the past.

I am breathing hard, trying to regain composure.

“Is it the back?” Alice asks, patting me awkwardly on the shoulder, clearly trying to comfort me somehow but not knowing what to do.

I lift up one hand, trying to overcome the wave of pain enough that I can bite out: “It’s the back. Tattooing fucks it up at best of times, but all the standing and painting must have finished it off.” I close my eyes, willing my bed to come to me. It doesn’t work.

“Hey, no hurry, we’ve been here forever, what’s another ten minutes. I will do the tables tomorrow with Gio, most of it is done.” Alice wrings her hands. “Ah, I shouldn’t have let you help.”

I smile shakily: “It’s ok… I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t wanted to. But I don’t think I can move without help.”

Alice’s eyes are darting around, until she hits her head with her hand: “Sami, I think we shouldn’t be moving you around. Would you be ok going to auntie Daniela’s? Then we can take it from there.”

Ah, my girl is on the ball: “That would be fantastic, thank you.” I struggle to even talk, at the moment.

“Ok. Ok. Stay put. Well, of course, what were you going to do? Sorry, I’ll be back in a minute.” Alice leaves me crouched on the floor and disappears from view. She looks so worried; I’d be delighted to be at the receiving end of those feelings if it wasn’t that bright spots are flaring in front of my eyes at the moment.

She comes in at a run a couple of minutes later, finding me still crouching and breathing heavily. Giovanni is following hard on her heels. He also looks worried.

“Ok Sami, we are going to help you up and bring you to the house. Can you get up for me?”

I take one deep breath and laboriously unfold myself, aided by Alice who hooks herself under my arm. Giovanni, murmuring “hang on, boy,” goes to my other side and instantly, he is almost by himself carrying me forward.

Still, it takes us the guts of ten minutes and numerous pain-filled pauses to get to their place.

After what feels like years, Alice opens the door, and Daniela is there with us almost immediately:  “Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the A&E?” she asks.

I shake my head, even the tiny movement painful: “Positive. I need to lie down and take some painkillers. I will be ok to see the physio tomorrow and she’ll magic me back in shape.”

“Do you want us to ring Vittoria or…?” Giovanni asks.

“I already told her I was going to stay there, so I wouldn’t bother her. I stay over when I work late or something.” I am done with the questions: “Can we…” I move my hand feebly.

“Absolutely!” Giovanni tilts his head towards the living room.

The two slowly bring me there, where Daniela removes all cushions from a comfy-looking corner sofa. There’s a stove on one side of the room, glowing embers keeping the room warm.

Giovanni and Alice lower me down as carefully as possible and, only then Alice sighs a sigh of relief.

I look up at her and manage a small smile, feeling slightly better now that I am lying flat on my back.

She smiles back, but it’s still a tight, worried smile: “Would you like some fresh clothes? I’m sorry to report you are filthy.”

“So are you” I reply, my smile growing fractionally wider.

Her worried expression tells me that she is not going to joke, now: “I’ll take it as a yes. Zio Gio, would you mind…”

“Of course, come with me, I will find something for you as well.”

I am left looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling in the half light of a small lamp and the stove’s embers.

“How are you feeling?” Daniela asks, sitting on the sofa’s armrest, threading her hand into my hair in a light caress.

I am in an unfamiliar house, but I feel at home.

“I’ll be fine.”

“That bad?”

I nod. I’m unsure what we are talking about, but I’m too tired to care. My eyes are closing, and I can’t say I haven’t fallen asleep when I hear rustling around me.

Daniela has been guarding me, a hand gentle on my head, while waiting for Giovanni and Alice.

I crack one eye open, to see that Alice has brought downstairs two t-shirts and two pairs of tracksuit pants.

Placing one of each on an armchair, she comes over with the rest. Touching me gently on the shoulder, she asks: “Can you get up a little?”

I make an unhappy sound, but I manage to sit up for the time it takes for the three of them to get me changed. As soon as the soft and clean clothes are on me, I feel better. I lie back down and I know I am ready to drift off.

“Wait one second, angel,” Alice says, and she all but runs away, coming back almost immediately with a large glass of water.

“Take these, then I won’t bother you anymore”, she says, and helps me washing down a couple of pills; “back down now, I’ll be back in a sec.”

My eyes are starting to close.

I hear strands of hushed conversation floating towards me, but I can’t really hear any of it, my brain has already left the building.

A wave of tiredness sweeps over me and drags me under.