Lure of the Grapes, page 23
Akala dragged her suitcase with her, grudgingly, as she ambled down the street to the hotel D'argento. The staff recognized her by now and greeted her warmly. She pondered the unfortunate possibility of never seeing them again.
It was hard to believe it was her last night in Fiorella. She already had a plane ticket, and she had already paid for the hotel room in advance. This proved beneficial, as she had nothing left to pay.
The idea of the costly hotel room held no significance as she settled down, feeling isolated and melancholic. Niccolò disappeared. The cowboy vanished. When she switched on the TV, she found nothing comprehensible. Beautiful, but meaningless unless she spoke the language. The luggage sat ominously by the door. Loneliness prevailed, as well, and meaninglessness because there was no one there to give life meaning. Nothing but silence surrounded Akala in the room.
“God,” she prayed, “You’ve made it clear that You do have a plan for me! I believe! Now, how do I fulfill it?”
She heard the words, not as an audible sound but a feeling deep inside. “Forgive yourself.”
“Forgive myself?”
She took a deep breath.
“Akala… I forgive you…” she began. “For not being able to make your parents perfectly happy at all times. I forgive you for looking silly all those times…” and the times ran through her memory quickly, “I forgive you for not being what people wanted you to be. I forgive you for not having the emotional fortitude to move forward without someone telling you it’s right. I forgive you for not being tough and strong like everybody else. I forgive you… And I love you the way you are!” She sighed and smiled. “You deserve good things! You deserve a good man like Niccolò…”
Amazingly, she felt much lighter afterward.
After pacing again for a moment, someone knocked at the door.
“Julietta? Cheyenne? I am so happy you are here! I had hoped to see you before I leave tomorrow.”
“Julietta? Cheyenne? I am so happy to see you! I had hoped to find you before I leave tomorrow.”
“Leave tomorrow?” Julietta asked.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Akala said.
Julietta carried a large jar of hazelnut and chocolate cream. Cheyenne closed the door behind them.
“Let me make some coffee,” Julietta said and immediately put the filter in the coffeepot and filled it with coffee.
“I cannot believe you’re going home,” Cheyenne said and shook her head in disbelief as she sat down at the small round table in the corner.
Akala sat down on the bed. “Me neither.”
Akala broke out in sobs as the coffee percolated and Julietta came to sit beside her.
“But Akala,” said Julietta, “Why are you so upset? Your play turned out to be incredibly successful!”
Cheyenne brought her a glass of water.
“But now I am leaving.”
Julietta handed her a long wafer to dip into the hazelnut and chocolate cream. “Come on, cheer up. You may have to go back but you have a new start now.”
“You’re right, I can finally say: ‘I am what I am and being whatever that is, is okay’!” she replied. Akala stood and paced the floor. “But it seemed I had found a new start here in Italy! And I hoped I had found a new life with Niccolò. I believed he noticed something unique about me.”
“Now wait a minute!” Cheyenne said. “So all that stuff you said in the play, that was true, wasn’t it?”
Akala froze, then she smiled.
Julietta smiled, too, a proud look on her face. “Akala told me already.”
Cheyenne gasped. “And not me?”
“I didn’t want to say too much!” Akala said. “You know how it is! Scary to say something out loud because for some reason it appears less real. I don’t want to state a hope out loud! Then it might not happen!”
“On the contrary Akala,” Julietta said, “admitting the wish makes it real! Now tell us from the beginning.”
Akala sat back down. “Okay, I will give you the highlights.”
“No no, everything,” Cheyenne said.
“First, Niccolò told me about the trota pear painting and how beautiful it was, and I felt he was comparing it to me,” she said. “And then, he took me to the Cathedral of Fiorella, and that was so amazing. Then he took me to a coffee shop and promised to…”
Akala stop talking because of the astonished looks on their faces. “What?”
“You’ve been on several dates already?” Cheyenne asked.
Akala blinked. “I am not sure about that,” she replied. “I tried to tell Niccolò my feelings in person, but I got scared. And he never said anything… or maybe he did…”
“Akala, he told you with his actions,” Cheyenne insisted.
Julietta gasped. “That is why you don’t want to go home, because you haven’t given your best!”
“I haven’t?”
“Perhaps you are afraid, Akala,” said Cheyenne.
“Really?” Akala asked, already aware of its truth.
“You are afraid he will say he loves you,” Cheyenne insisted.
Akala looked at them both.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Akala,” Julietta said, and took her by the hand, in all seriousness. “You should find Niccolò and tell him, directly, while you still have that chance. Before you go home. He observed the play, but possibly he was unaware of its personal significance.”
“But what if he doesn’t really want to see me and it’s better to leave things as they are? A beautiful, unrequited love! Besides, what if I don’t say the right thing? I rarely have in the past!”
The two girls looked at her seriously. “You’ve only got one chance at this life. Express the thought, even if it’s incorrect,” said Cheyenne.
“See him because you want to. Not because he wants it!” said Julietta.

When Niccolò and Rocco had returned to Fiorella, they stayed at Zio’s two-story home on the edge of the city, close to the Ponte Grande, to rest.
Cozy and warm, Zio’s living room was right inside the front door. A brilliant rug, full of earthen tones of red, brown, pine tree green, even black lay over white carpet. Around the right corner, fresh herbs from the bakery courtyard hung over the kitchen sink. A beautiful dark brown wood divided the rooms. The trimming on the white walls of the same wood divided the kitchen and the living room, and a long hallway covered in picture frames and candles stretched to the back rooms.
Niccolò slept for a few minutes on the couch, still resting his will in God’s hands, even as new concerns came to his mind. The walk did wonders to clear his head. Rocco slept on the rug before the fireplace.
Before too long, with Rocco still asleep on the rug, Niccolò took the money Zio had given him to the bank.
When finished with his errands, Niccolò walked to the bridge over the Ponte Grande. He did not contemplate climbing on the ledge. He simply looked out at the river.
A figure soon came and stood beside him and peered out at the river with him. Niccolò had already anticipated the person’s identity and their approach without needing to look at them.
“I lost the vineyard,” Niccolò stated.
“I am truly sorry,” Mike began. “Saverio told me you and Sheila—” but Niccolò held up a hand to stop him.
Niccolò watched the slow water of the river. He took a deep breath into his nose. “I contemplated the idea of jumping, on multiple occasions. Only to experience the relief of all the weight being lifted from me. It crossed my mind initially when I was young and I arrived in town to work for my uncle. My life wasn’t bad. And I always wondered what would I find on the other side. Darkness? Nothingness? More hurt? And I started to have faith in God and that He would be there, but that He desired me to live.
“And sometimes I still experience such an odd and hollow sensation, and I long to simply leap; not to die, but to have the weight fall off of me. It would be easy. Life is that way anyway, isn’t it? I crawl so far, with my one good leg, and I drag myself through each day merely to free fall back to where I began.”
Mike listened intently.
“To crawl and climb and to realize there is nothing waiting ahead, we may as well end it. But I cannot fathom that I’ve crawled with no purpose or that there is nothing ahead. I can’t. I believed, I must discover something. What was I looking for?
“I was walking on this same railing a while ago and I felt I lost all hope,” Niccolò continued, taking in an even deeper breath. “And for some reason, I imagined myself falling into that water and drowning. Of course, I did not wish to die, but I didn’t want to be in the city, either, you know? I was unsure of the path to choose.
“Later on, I encountered this peculiar girl,” Niccolò added, “She had a unique personality. She saw him, the person I was trying to hide; the person that is striving, crawling; the person I wanted to be, the strong one. I stood on this ledge, to remind me that I’m alive and that I am crawling toward something. And I realized there is always something ahead that is worth waiting for. She saw him. Someone saw him, for the first time, and I could finally stop pretending. That was worth waiting for.” Niccolò looked over at Mike, who had an understanding smile on his face. “She was aware of the person I aspired to become.”
Mike nodded. “Akala?”
“She is the one I love, Mike,” Niccolò answered. “It was never your Sheila.”
Mike smiled at him, brightly. “Yes, I understand! Akala is wonderful.”
“Yes, but I am unsure where to find her.”
With these last words, Mike looked down and his chin began to quiver. “Sheila sees me, but does she still love me?”
Niccolò put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe Sheila wears a mask, too, Mike. She may not realize it. Help her to see it. And see her for who she really is.”
Mike nodded and took Niccolò’s arm.
“I may be able to help you find Akala,” Mike said. “Come.”
They came to the Cathedral of Fiorella and inside it was quiet. Mike led Niccolò up the many stairs to the top of the dome.
“Akala told me you brought her here.”
It was solemn, and so peaceful.
When they came to the top, they did not find Akala or anyone else.
Soon, the scuffing of boots echoed on the stairs.
“What an ominous and looming noise,” Mike said. They stared at one another and their eyes glazed as they waited for whoever came stomping up the stairs. Suddenly, an arm grabbed Niccolò’s shoulder.
The person sniffled sadly.
Niccolò studied the ominous figure who made the sign of the cross.
“Why art thou downcast, o-my soul,” Saverio said, loudly, and hung himself over the railing, with no fear whatsoever. Afterward, he let out a sigh.
“Oh, how can I forgive myself? I have stolen a vineyard.”
He turned to Niccolò.
“I didn’t want it, Niccolò, I only wanted to steal it from you. I wanted to make you jealous.”
“Yes, I am aware!” Niccolò stated, “Everyone knows that!”
Saverio straightened himself. “They do?”
“You are so blinded by jealousy, Saverio.”
“Yes. Why did I do such a thing?”
“Who knows!”
“How will I ever make that right?” Saverio put his arms around Niccolò and pressed his face to his chest. “Can God forgive someone like me?”
Niccolò paused briefly. “Saverio, God’s grace is for us all. Even the worst of sinners. We only need to trust in it.”
Saverio studied him and smiled. “But still, I am weighed down with the pressure,” Saverio said.
“What pressure?” Niccolò asked.
“I cannot run the vineyard by myself. Help me, please help me.”
Niccolò smiled. “Saverio, I was serious when I said I want to start over. I will only remember the hardest times of my life if I take the vineyard from you.”
Saverio stood and studied him. “Really? But we could be co-owners?”
“If you want my help, hire me to help you, so I can earn steady money to get back on my feet again.”
Saverio laughed. “Of course! Consider it done! When can you start?”
They smiled proudly at each other and proceeded to embrace like they were family once more. Then they slowly shook hands, looking into each other’s eyes, subsequently tightening their grips and twisting, as if arm wrestling, and growling like animals.
“You can’t fight under the Cathedral of Fiorella,” Mike interrupted. “Look!” He pointed to the judgment scene above them.
They stopped and went downstairs together.
Outside on the Cathedral of Fiorella steps, Saverio and Niccolò hugged once again and proved their partnership with kisses on both cheeks.
“Come soon!” Saverio said. He waved, and Niccolò and Mike waved back.
“There is something else I want to tell you, Niccolò,” Mike said. They stopped walking, and Niccolò studied him. “One night after I performed some tricks with two bunnies, I brought Fareh, remember the street vendor that I am acquainted with? I brought him to see your house, I hope you don’t wonder why,” he laughed, sheepishly. “And anyway, the door was unlocked and the two bunnies accidentally hopped inside.”
Mike seemed afraid of Niccolò’s reaction.
“I suppose you wondered where the bunnies came from,” Mike said. “I hope they were no trouble to you!”
They watched one another for what seemed like a full minute. Niccolò leaned back and laughed. Mike laughed with him. They walked again.
“So I suppose you want the bunnies back?” Niccolò asked, still chuckling.
“Oh, no!” Mike said. “Well, only if you don’t want them.”
“The only problem is that my roommate was looking for a woman to give the bunny as a gift,” Niccolò said. “I cannot promise that Rocco still has the bunny, but the big one lives at the vineyard. I can bring it to you.”
“Rocco wanted to give it to a woman?” Mike asked. “Hey, that’s a good idea!”
Niccolò smiled at him. “Do you think Sheila will like it?”
The two of them came to Niccolò’s favorite storybook coffee shop. When they came to the door Rocco met them there. To their amazement, Rocco held the small bunny in his arms.
“I have decided to give the small bunny to Cheyenne,” Rocco told them, proudly. “Do you still have the large bunny, Niccolò? Do you want to give it to Akala?”
“Rocco, those bunnies are Mike’s! Isn’t that funny?”
“Who is Mike?” Rocco answered, worriedly. Afterward, he glanced at Mike. “Who are you?”
“No worries, you can keep the bunnies!” Mike said.
Niccolò slapped Mike on the arm. “I have a great idea, Mike!” Niccolò said. “Come inside the coffee shop and we will talk about it.”
Awhile later, after Mike sent a messenger with a cryptic message, Sheila came into the coffee shop. Sheila sat down at one of the higher booths. She looked around, seemingly uncomfortable about whoever had sent for her and it seemed she had never been to the coffee shop before. Rocco, Niccolò, and Mike watched her from the doorway behind the counter. The lamplight at that time in the evening sparkled romantically on the colorful plates and bowls along the walls.
“She is beautiful, Mike,” Niccolò said. “But I love another.”
Mike chuckled. “Thank you Niccolò!” he said joyously. Niccolò patted his shoulder. Mike seemed to motivate himself as Niccolò handed him a plain white mask, and he looked like any other person at the carnival. Long purple and blue feathers stuck out from the top of the mask, which almost hid all of his hair.
“Say a prayer, boys,” Mike said.
“God bless you!” Rocco said.
Mike made his way to Sheila’s table, with a small handbag in his hand. He had told Niccolò and Rocco that he bought it as a gift for her.
Mike sat down across from Sheila, and held the bag in his hand, as though it was his own. Sheila stared at him, her eyes almost slits. She did not seem fully sure about the situation or his motives.
Niccolò and Rocco watched from the table behind with their coffees in hand.
Sheila crossed her arms as Mike silently motioned for her to wait just a moment. He took the small handbag and opened it. He widened his eyes in excitement. Sheila pursed her lips. Mike pulled out a beautiful and exquisite scarf at which Sheila raised her brows. He handed it to her. She studied it, then smiled and put it around her neck. Mike blinked. He looked into the bag again and widened his eyes in excitement. He pulled out a silver bracelet. At this Sheila smiled exuberantly. He put it onto her wrist. She studied it.
“I love it,” Sheila said.
Mike looked into the bag again. His eyes looked at her excitedly about the next thing in the bag.
Mike put his entire hand into the bag. He revealed a large rabbit’s face in the bag. It wiggled its nose. Sheila looked at Mike as he gently pulled the rest of the bunny out of the small bag.
Rocco gasped from the other table.
Sheila took the rabbit in her arms. The rabbit seemed content to sit there, and Sheila smiled down at it. “Thank you! Better than a rubber chicken!”
Mike motioned for her to be patient for a moment longer. Sheila raised her brows and seemed curious.
Mike did not look at her this time. He pulled out a ring. He took her hand and put it on her finger.
Subsequently, he removed the mask.
“Will you marry me again?” Mike asked.
“But why Mike?” Sheila asked with sincerity in her voice.
“What do you mean?” he asked as he turned his head to the side.
“I am not a theatrical person. Sure, I love clothes, but I am not creative in any other way. Why do you still want me?”
“Because, you keep me on the earth,” Mike said and smiled. “Can you imagine if we were both in the clouds? This time, I promise to put you first. I love you and I don’t want to lose you, Sheila…”
Sheila laughed with tears in her eyes.
