Lure of the Grapes, page 22
“The girl grew sad again, but she had expected it. Her childhood boyfriend hated her sfogliatelle, anyway.”
“It tastes like bathroom cleaner!” someone yelled from behind the curtain.
The audience laughed.
“The girl’s parents were so angry that she had not gotten married. They blamed the utter failure to do as they and society wanted and expected her to do, and they told her not to come home unless she found another true love and purposeful work. So the girl left the farm and furniture shop and walked.”
Akala opened a book. It was the storybook she had borrowed from Niccolò.
“From the pages of a book, she met someone, a man. He was like a cowboy. He told her: ‘I live in a mansion surrounded by vineyards,’” Mike read.
“Where can I find you?” Akala asked the book, aloud.
“You can only be with me if you forget what happened back then, because I sincerely want to live in the present with you, and not in the uncertainty of the future. When you let go of the past, and your expectations for the future, come and see me sometime,” Mike read, as if the cowboy spoke from the book.
Akala looked around confusedly.
“Where, where can I go to find him?” she asked as loud as possible.
The carnival people brought out an Asian style screen, with a beautiful mountain painted thereon.
“The girl looked up the hill at the vineyards and the sight of grapevines lured her toward them, so beautiful they appeared in the distance. The girl had never been there before and wondered if that would be the place to find the love of her life,” Mike read. “As the girl came deeper into the forest, she met some sheep.”
“How can I get to those vines of grapes up there?” Akala asked some actors in sheep masks.
“Just keep walking!” they told her. Then they gave her a basket of apples, which she carried with her.
“It took her a long time so she ate apples, olives and oranges in the forests.”
Akala pretended to eat something from the basket.
“Soon, she met a few otters.”
“Can you tell me which way to the grape vines?” Akala asked the otter actors.
They pointed.
“What are you looking for there?” the otters asked.
“Someone to love me for who I am.”
“The girl came to a trota pear tree and there in the tree she found a beautiful bird.”
The man on stilts wore a colorful bird mask which covered his face to the shoulder. In his hands, he held branches and looked exactly like a bird in a tree.
The bird told her: “He will only truly love you and make you happy, when you learn to love yourself.”
“I understand,” Akala told the wise bird.
“The girl continued on her way. She found a kind old woman, who invited her to stay in a cozy little house, with a fireplace and four-poster bed. The old woman baked a lovely cheesecake and a man working there kindly taught the girl to make sfogliatelle. The girl stayed there until the perfect her sfogliatelle skills. However, the girl still had to find the right man to eat the sfogliatelle.”
“Where do I go to find love?” Akala asked again.
The actor playing the old woman took Akala by the shoulders. “You will be aware that it is him, once he tries the sfogliatelle, he will adore it!”
Akala smiled and took a deep breath. It was time for her short monologue. She stepped up to another microphone.
“I found someone,” Akala began, anxiously. “He taught me to dance. He encouraged me and called me beautiful. He seemed to love me. We worshipped God together. We understood one another… or so it seemed.”
“Perhaps, he did not really want her, he was only pretending,” Mike said.
Akala looked at Niccolò. He watched her intently. She blinked. “If only I could express my true feelings to him, then there is a chance that we would be together… forever.”
Fareh, the fox-man, strolled out on stage with some sheep behind him. Akala stared at him, surprised. This was the husband Mike had picked for her?
“It was time for the girl to make sfogliatelle,” Mike said.
Too nervous to improvise, Akala pretended to find something in a cookbook and stirred something in a bowl. The bowl was set upon a single hot plate for use as a prop on the table in front of her. Akala had already mixed a few things at Mike’s home, as Zio had shown her, to make filling for the sfogliatelle. It seemed like the play would be more real if she did this.
There was fox-man. Akala peered over her shoulder at him, not sure what he would say or do. “I’ll just… spread the dough out and then cut it into chunks… and fill them with cream…” she said.
Akala sensed the heat radiating and it seemed the hot plate had been switched on for a long time.
Suddenly, as Fareh walked up, the filling in the pan burst into flames and Akala cringed back, her tottering ankles quaking violently.
The audience gasped, and Mike ran to the hotplate and turned it off. Then he also cringed.
Fox-man took a towel from the table and violently beat the flames.
The three of them panted. The audience waited for something. Akala realized the glaringly obvious mistake, but the audience remained silent, everyone merely observed, perplexed. Akala had to go off script.
“I’ve rarely done it right before…” Akala said. “Perhaps no one will love me, because they see me as awkward, silly, and stupid!”
Akala shrugged, still half in character as the toga-wearing maiden and half serious as herself.
“Perhaps… I am not meant to cook! Or to fall in love!”
Standing there across the stage shaking his head, with his arms crossed and a slight smirk on his face, was the cowboy.
“You CAN cook, Akala, you made sfogliatelle with Zio,” he mumbled. “You have let other people determine who you are. Why don’t YOU decide who you are? Why don’t you let God, your Creator tell you who He made you to be, instead of letting the world do it for you?”
Fareh walked to the pan that had just been on fire. Perhaps it was now cooler. Akala still panted slightly and watched him as he took a spoon and consumed a spoonful of the custard filling.
Fareh faced the audience. “That is absolutely the most delicious thing I have ever tasted!” he cried. “It’s like… creme, with a hint of brûlée!”
Akala blinked. “Really?” she asked, after a moment. As she looked into the bowl and blinked, she was tempted to try it, herself.
Fareh took another spoonful. “You are a great cook!” he said, with a mouthful of batter. “I love you!”
Akala blinked.
The audience burst into cheers.
“She found her true love!” Mike said, while clapping.
Fareh hoisted Akala up, causing one of her high heels to fly toward the audience.
Akala did not see if the shoe had hit or injured someone, because her neck had been whipped back as Fareh threw her in the air. She became lightheaded as the audience persisted in cheering.

Akala had asked Cheyenne and Julietta to stay with her after the play was over. They walked with her outside, where a sizable crowd had gathered. Julietta and Cheyenne had been her main cheerleaders from the beginning. She was immensely grateful for the two of them and also for Mike. However, she immediately wondered where Niccolò had gone. She wondered if she had scared him away.
She also wondered what her professor would say as he came toward her. Her eyes widened.
“That was beautiful and profoundly moving,” her professor told her.
“Great play, Akala!” said one of her classmates and the rest of them agreed.
The crowd surrounded her and consisted of many statue people that had helped her with the play as well as her classmates and her professor. Even Greg and Trent were there.
Unfortunately, Akala did not see Niccolò anywhere. She searched all the faces, while trying to pretend to be excited. Sure she had a positive reaction to the praise she received, but it was Niccolò she had wanted to impress. Even while people were telling her how wonderful the play was, her heart sank.
“Where is Niccolò?” she whispered to herself.
Perhaps Niccolò had not understood, or even worse, perhaps he did not care. When the crowd shuffled out, she gave Mike a sincere smile and hid her sadness.
“Great job, Akala,” Mike said. “And don’t worry, I am confident he found it beautiful!”
He winked, and she smiled and nodded to show her gratitude. Then he left her.
“Akala,” her professor said, “come with me.”
She sulked as she followed him away from the crowd.
He turned toward her. He was smiling. “That was amazing and very creative. You are a splendid actress! And I’m sorry that you will go home.”
She looked down. “Me too.”
He put a hand to her shoulder.
“Akala,” he said. “I put in a good word for you. In my opinion, you have tried your best and I believe you have done fantastic. So, since the detective has no intention of pressing charges, the school has no intention of punishment. They trust my word that you have really improved as a student.”
“Thank you so much for your help and your change of heart!”
“And by the way,” he said. “How did you get involved with the Family Theater? That is wonderful!”
“Thank you, I wanted to get a job there so I auditioned!”
“Well, I believe you’ve done an excellent job. I hope they will accept you. If you get a job there, perhaps you can stay next semester?”
“I would love to!”

In the early morning, Niccolò sat in the front seat of Zio’s car, while Rocco sat in the back and sang. Rocco’s Mohawk had fallen into a blonde wave, and it seemed like he should have a tiny man surfing on it.
They had gotten no sleep at all. It was okay. Niccolò didn’t have the energy to engage his mind that much, and that was okay with him.
Niccolò gazed out the window as cool, slow drops of rain fell.
“Nicco, I said it before but I am proud of you,” Zio said and smiled compassionately. “I am aware of my brother’s intentions and goals, but I am certain that he wouldn’t have wished for his son to endure such hardship. To experience a sense of condemnation.”
It was late in the day now, and when the rain subsided, Zio pulled over to the side of the road, where the overpass opened to a gorgeous view of a large lake: Lago di Lucciola. It seemed as the ocean with scenic homes nestled into the mountainside in the distance.
Niccolò was not at rock bottom. No, he had already been there. He was now at a new place, and it wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t so bad knowing that he had a new start. It was refreshing. He sighed. The others stood with him, the silence actually a comfort. It meant they understood.
“Niccolò,” Zio said softly after a long while, “I have seen how hard you have struggled. This money belongs to you.”
Zio took Niccolò’s free hand and put a small, hard roll of money in it.
Niccolò glanced at Zio with his head tilted to the side in confusion. It seemed to be a large amount of money.
“Where did this come from?” Niccolò asked.
“All those townspeople in Bagno a Fiori who wanted you to keep the vineyard, and in my opinion, your father wanted you to have it as well. This was not what your father wanted, Nicco. And your Uncle Aurelio paid me for the work you and your friends did last year. He loved your father, too, and he understands. Of course, they were not allowed to pay before the verdict of the vineyard, but there is no hindrance, now!
“Perhaps you wanted the vineyard. But sometimes we all need a new dream. We do what we can to survive. You need to survive, Niccolò. You can use the money to start your own vineyard!
“Trust God and He won’t let you drown. At times, it may seem so, but God will not allow it if you have faith in Him. I love you Niccolò,” Zio said. “And remember, God can give you so much more than what you ask or think. I don’t have a thing I got on my own. God gave it all to me!”
Niccolò smiled. “Thank you, Zio!” Niccolò said and embraced his uncle.
“It is my pleasure to help you, my nipote.”
“I believe I will walk home, to clear my mind.”
“Are you sure? It might rain again?”
“Yes, I am sure,” Niccolò said, as he walked down the road.
“I will walk with him, Zio,” Rocco said and ran to catch up.
Perhaps a new vineyard was the real dream all along. Niccolò smiled and waved as Zio got back into his car to drive home.
“Tell me,” Rocco asked, “what did you say to Akala as you danced?”
“We didn’t say anything to each other,” Niccolò said.
“Now just wait a minute!” Rocco shouted.
Niccolò studied him and slowed.
“You said nothing? You are kidding me, Niccolò!”
At this, Niccolò stopped.
“I simply cannot accept this!” Rocco said. “It was so obvious Akala wanted to give you a message! But you just ignore it!”
Niccolò had witnessed the show and questioned. Akala dressed as the trota pear maiden. She mentioned him teaching her to dance. He wondered if she really loved him, but he was not sure. Why did she say he was pretending? Perhaps this was the idea he gave. Somehow he would have to tell her the truth, but how? He shook his head.
“Akala has a boyfriend, Rocco,” Niccolò said and took a few steps on the pavement. There were no cars at that moment. “Besides, I tried to find her, and I couldn’t. So I accepted being without her.”
Rocco put his hands on his hips. “And who told you Akala has a boyfriend?”
At this, Niccolò hesitated and tried to avoid Rocco’s eyes. Instead he looked around at the trees by the sides of the road.
“Niccolò?” Rocco reprimanded. “Who was it?”
Niccolò turned toward him but still didn’t look him in the eye. “Saverio,” he murmured.
Rocco gasped. Niccolò finally looked up. The look on Rocco’s face made him laugh.
“You are aware that Saverio lies!” Rocco said.
“How can I really be sure?” Niccolò asked as they walked again.
Rocco sighed. “Perhaps ask Akala for sure. If that’s what you really want. Well, what are you going to do?”
“I am not sure. I put my future in God’s hands. I do not have what I set out to earn, but I have plenty of other options, I suppose. This relationship, it hasn’t happened. Perhaps it is not in God’s will, after all.”
Rocco slapped him on the arm. Niccolò grimaced and cradled his arm. “Perhaps it is time for you to go after something and not stop until you have it. The vineyard didn’t work out, so make this relationship work out. If you want it, go after it!”

Akala found bidding farewell to Josephina in person too difficult, so she sat down to write a letter.
Dear Josephina,
I do not want to leave Italy or the farmhouse. You have been like a mother to me. I was so happy to find someone who would accept me the way you have.
Tears came down from Akala’s eyes.
I cannot thank you enough for giving me a new view of life. More aspects of my story remain untold. They apprehended me in Fiorella attempting to sell bracelets that had been illegally obtained, however, I had no knowledge of their origin. The strong desire in my heart to stay in Italy required money, and after getting caught with stolen bracelets, I was burdened with a substantial fine to pay. I hope you will trust my words, and not be swayed by what others might say.
Akala had washed the handkerchief that the stilt-man gave her, folded it, and placed it beside the letter as she wrote. A woman in a dress was depicted on the handkerchief, surrounded by intricate embroidered vines. The handkerchief possessed a striking beauty, yet only brought to mind Akala’s pain.
I hope you will accept this gift from me. The beautiful dress reminds me of you, and the orange dress I borrowed. The orange dress is stunningly beautiful and it made me feel beautiful to wear it! I hung the dress back in the cabinet with the storybook beside the paintings. Thank you again for opening your home and your heart to me, I will never forget you. I hope to meet you again if I can secure employment and afford the opportunity!
Love, your friend and exchange daughter -Akala
Akala already packed her bags and placed them by the door. With limited belongings, it had been easy to organize the bedroom where she resided in the farmhouse. The beautiful bed had been neatly arranged. The bedside table where she placed a handmade mug of water every night, and the desk where she completed most of her work, sparkled, devoid of any dust.
Then Akala sat on the bed in the orange light of evening, cascading in between the white curtains.
The sky seemed to turn grey quickly. The very same situation Akala left back home awaited her. To leave the new life for the old one seemed unfathomable. She needed to begin again, in the place she had already been. Returning to the old failure seemed strange and improbable, as well as returning to her life, before she became someone new.
The remaining traces of the hopeful emotion in her heart when she had signed up to study abroad had gradually dissolved into tears. Still, she did not want to go back. Her parents expected a lot from her and she wondered what their reaction would be upon discovering that the school had requested her to return home. They had expected her to go out on her own. How would she do it?
Even though she had found a new dream, it wasn’t as though she had the resources to achieve it. This silence weighed on her. She wanted someone to talk to.
The bus from Bagno a Fiori to Fiorella would leave soon. Josephine was still at the festival, so it was easy for Akala to sneak out. However, she would have to avoid the festivities as she boarded the bus. It was late in the day and she made it on one of the last buses to Fiorella.
Akala took in the landscape of Tuscany from the bus window one last time. As she stepped down from the bus at the Fiorella bus terminal, large crowds of people moved about. The countryside put Akala at ease, just as the small town of Bagno a Fiori. But most of all, Akala missed the idea of feeding the sheep with Niccolò, and of picking grapes with him, and of strolling down the country paths holding his hand.
