Joann climbed the steps down to the platform with some difficulty, holding on to her smaller travel bag. The busy station of Genoa bustled with activity, and she wondered briefly how she’d be able to find her aunt among the crowds. Just as she reached to get her suitcase, a young man appeared at the doorway and briskly lifted the heavy luggage for her, flashing a white smile. A rapid flow of Italian followed to which Joann smiled apologetically.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand you, but thank you very much.”
The man carried on his speech, using his hands and gesturing in a way that seemed to mean that he was asking if she needed any help with the luggage. Then, when she didn’t reply, he took hold of her suitcase and lifted his eyebrows in a question.
“No, no, thank you. I’m fine, thank you very much,” she hurried to reply, but the man smiled and took off with the bag, using sign language to make her follow.
“My God,” Joann huffed as she darted after the stranger, scared that he would disappear into the crowd with her belongings. The platform was filled with passengers both disembarking and boarding the train, so she had real problems trying to keep up with the man who moved through the milling mass with ease.
Joann’s eyes darted in between her helper and the crowd, trying to both keep an eye on her suitcase and spot the figure of her aunt amongst the restless stream of passersby.
An uneasy quiver shook her guts. What if her aunt wasn’t here to meet her? What if something had happened to her, and Joann would be left alone to wander the streets of this foreign city? How was she going to get back home? Panic rose to her throat, her limbs lost their strength.
The friendly young man stopped by the exit gate, and turned to her with a wide smile, once again explaining something to her in a language that made no sense. His hands made wide circles in the air, pointing at the exit. Then he waved at Joann and turned on his heels, but came to an abrupt halt in front of a beautiful woman.
Joann recognized Janet and sighed in huge relief. Her aunt had a quick conversation with the young man who by now was bowing to her and making appeasing signs with his hands. Janet smiled at him and touched his arm.
“Grazie.” Joann heard her say, and received a final wave of goodbye from the nice man.
Her aunt strolled to her. She wore a yellow summer dress, a wide brimmed straw hat and a pair of dark sunglasses that hid her eyes. Judging from the movement of her head, her aunt’s gaze traveled her length, from head to toe, as if examining her appearance. Her head tilted to the right as a warm smile spread on her sensuous mouth.
She took off her sun shades and swiped a strand of her dark chestnut hair back. “Nice to see you made it here safely, Joann.” Her grayish blue eyes inspected her niece once more as she hooked her arm and nodded approvingly. “I have to agree with that man who just helped you. You have grown up to be a beautiful young woman, Joann. He was very impressed by your looks and said that if he wasn’t married, he would have asked you out immediately.”
Joann felt the heat on her cheeks as her shoulders hunched. “I’m not…” Joann began, but her aunt interjected.
“My goodness. Don’t hunch like that, it doesn’t suit you at all. The first thing you need to know about Italian men is that they mean what they say when they compliment you. You do not apologize or claim that you’re ugly. Instead you raise your chin and accept the praise, be proud of how you look. Otherwise you end up spending your whole time hunched and apologizing as the men over here spew compliments to pretty women almost constantly. You understand that?”
“Yes, Aunt Janet.” Joann attempted to stand straight but felt the heat of embarrassment creep up again as two boys, about her age, smiled at her and shouted something as they passed.
“See, another compliment already, and you’ve been in the country for what, four hours?” Her aunt laughed heartily as she winked at a porter to come and get Joann’s luggage.
“What did they say, Auntie Janet?”
“I’m not sure I should tell you, but it was linked to the beauty of your breasts.”
“Oh, my God!” The heat on her face increased tenfold.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s harmless. And how about we drop that auntie, and just use my name, please?”
“Oh, alright, sorry, Au..I mean, Janet.”
“It’s alright. Now, let's make a move. We still have a couple of hours on the road before we’re at home.”
* * * *
Joann sat in the passenger seat of the tiny Fiat and prayed. The hairs in the back of her neck, in fact throughout her body, stuck up in terror as Janet navigated the chaotic traffic in the city. Cars pushed so close to their miniscule vehicle that Joann could’ve touched the arms of the drivers if she had dared to reach out of the open side window. A chorus of loudly shouting, arm waving men and some women burst into a cacophony of screeching brakes, piercing horns and a stream of what seemed obscene insults at every junction where the traffic ground to a halt.
When the slow moving soup of four wheeled metal boxes finally cleared the junctions, the speed of the traffic rose to unhealthy levels on the relatively narrow streets. Joann clutched her purse in terror at yet another whirling mass that flew past them as they finally cleared the city limits and reached the main road south. The traffic didn’t slow, it got worse. Cars overtook their tiny vehicle, the air currents shaking the chassis and making the small car sway sideways.
Janet seemed totally impervious to the chaos surrounding them. Her gaze was tightly fixed to the road, her back rigid, but her shoulders were relaxed. In fact, it almost looked like she was enjoying the drive.
When they reached the highway, she finally spared a look at Joann, and laughed. “Don’t worry about the traffic, you'll get used to it.”
“I’ve never been this scared in my life. All these drivers are lunatics.”
“Yes, they are, but the knack is to go with the flow. And act self-assured and pushy like everyone else. That way you keep up with the traffic and don’t get overrun by anyone. That’s the easiest way, trust me, and probably the only way to make sure you stay alive.”
“I do not feel the urge to drive here, at all.”
“Well, it’s a bit quieter where I live, so you may want to use the car once we’re there, but you don’t have to if you don’t feel like it. My house is close to the village, walking distance from everywhere, so there’s no need for a car. I only have this one because I have to get supplies from Genoa, for my paintings. I make this drive every two, three months.”
Joann glanced at the back seat. Her suitcase filled the cramped space completely. “I guess you didn’t manage to get any supplies on this trip.”
“No, but I didn’t have to either. I was in Genoa two weeks ago for that.” Janet glanced at her again and smiled. “So, tell me about yourself. The only thing I heard from Eddie and Mary Ann was that you were having difficulties deciding what to do with your future.”
Joann thought it strange to hear Janet use her parents' first names. She cleared her throat, which felt excessively dry. The fear had sucked the moisture from her body, poured it out as sweat. Her back felt drenched against the vinyl seat cover. “Oh, there isn’t much to tell. I graduated a couple of weeks ago with excellent grades, but for some reason I just can’t figure out what I want to do with my life.”
“Don’t worry, we’ve all been there.” Janet released another encouraging smile. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out when you spend some time away from home.”
Janet’s relaxed attitude made Joann sigh in relief. She seemed nice, so maybe this would turn out to be a great adventure after all. Her initial apprehension melted away, and she was able to relax a little, even though the fast traffic still worried her.
Joann leaned on the seat and finally began to look around at the unfolding scenery in front of her. The glimmer of the Mediterranean Sea sparkled on her right as they wove their way down the coastal road, through small towns and villages, all filled with character.
Janet filled her in on some historical facts of the area as she expertly avoided crashing into the impatient drivers along the way.
“Now we’re closing in on what has been my world since, goodness me, from nineteen-seventy-one, -two. The Gulf of La Spezia, on the shore of which my house is located, is called the Gulf of Poets since some of the world’s greatest poets came to live, and even died, here.
“Shelley– Percy Bysshe Shelley, you do know who I’m talking about?”
“Yeah—a famous poet in the early eighteen-hundreds.”
Janet smiled to herself as her eyes stayed on the road. “I thought so. Mary Ann is a devoted fan of poets, so it would be unheard of if she hadn’t told you about them all. Well, anyway, Shelley lived in a village called San Terenzo, the same village I live almost next to. He tragically lost his life at the age of twenty-nine when sailing back from Livorno on his boat. They say that the boat was hit by a storm, but all sorts of rumors circulated around his untimely death. Who knows what’s true and what's not.
“I do my everyday shopping over at San Terenzo. It’s a very pretty, picturesque coastal village. As soon as you’re settled, you can go and do some shopping for me, and have a look around. It really is a beautiful place.
“Other famous people have lived here as well. At Portovenere there’s a grotto dedicated to Lord Byron; he used to swim there.
“The area is very beautiful, as you can see, and there are many beaches. Some are private, like mine, and some public, so you have to be a bit careful of where you go. If you’re into hiking, there are some really nice trails along the coast and inland.”
Joann’s head swiveled from side to side as she listened to her aunt talk. The natural beauty astounded her. Forested hills descended to the edge of the sea, the shoreline was scattered with beaches, broken by jagged cliffs and secluded coves. The narrow road wound its way past attractive small villages, in and out of the shadow of the tall cypress trees that lined parts of it.
Rolling fields filled with straight rows of dark green grape vines baked in the heat of the sun, the misty green olive groves splashed with bright red blooms of poppies underneath the flimsy shadows of the trees. In the distance, hill towns shone in the strong sunshine. All colors were heightened by the perfect blue sky above.
The hot air that flowed through the half open windows of the car tasted salty. The ripe, thick scent of some flowers, or maybe herbs, lingered on in the still air of low lying ground, intermittently filling the car’s interior as they drove up and down the winding road, only to be replaced with the smell of the heated earth, and salt, at the top of the hills.
The hectic traffic had slowed to a reasonable pace, but Joann had completely forgotten her fear as she devoured the amazing sights, one after another appearing from around the bends in the road, making her gasp in delight.
Finally, Janet took a turn onto a very narrow stretch of road. It snaked its way up a small hill, then down again, in the shade of the tall standing cypresses, and opened up to a wide lawn.
Partially hidden by some dark green leafy trees, stood an old, two story house. Its rectangular shape wasn’t exactly an architectural wonder, but what it lacked in design, it sure possessed in charm.
Its uneven old walls of light-colored stone partly gleamed in the sunshine, partly rested in shade. Two large chimneys, capped with tiled triangular guards, protruded from the worn terracotta tiled roof. A row of windows, four at the ground level and a matching set on the second, all had dark brown window shutters, now closed because of the hot weather.
The left hand corner of the house had a small extension at the back. Although it was in the shade, it was clear its walls were a fraction darker, and its roof in worse shape, than those of the main building.
The house snuggled against a rocky outcrop that obviously sheltered it from the sea. The azure blue expanse was visible on the right hand side where the ground dropped out of sight. Joann guessed that was the way to the beach.
Scraggly trees lined the top of the cliff, providing additional cover. A blue and white striped marquee was placed on the expansive front lawn, housing a wide table and chairs underneath it.
A concrete built fireplace, made for grilling food, stood close to the dining area. Its white color had streaks of black soot on it, a sign it was in frequent use.
Four pairs of deckchairs were placed on a small, stone clad patio next to the house, with a couple of sun shades, currently tied closed, next to them.
To the left and up a gentle slope stood another building; a small, simple cottage that nestled underneath some larger trees. It was also built of stone and had a terracotta roof with one thin chimney, but a set of only two windows, complete with shutters similar to the main house.
Janet brought the car to a halt by the front door. The strong, dark, wooden door was inset into an arched entrance-way. A pair of low gray granite steps lay in front of it.
A wide selection of troughs and large terracotta clay pots surrounded the house, filled with bursts of color. Red, blue, yellow, purple and white flowers decorated the light green lawn, sporadically but stylishly situated to soften the square lines of the buildings. Lush, low shrubs circled the edge of the lawn with some fruit trees in the background. An old wooden wheel barrow stood in the middle of the path leading to the cottage, close to it a couple of dark green buckets full of something, maybe dead weeds.
Large oak water barrels were placed at both corners of the building, there to catch whatever moisture or rain might flow down the long narrow tubes that drew down from the edge of the roof.
The whole scene–the house, the garden, the cottage, the marquee and the dining area, all partly bathed in the sunlight, partly rested in shade, dappled with blotches of light and dark and the colors of a rainbow–looked like an impressionist painting.
As Joann slowly climbed out of the car she lost her heart to the place. It was the most beautiful, most romantic setting she’d ever seen.
The blood-curling howl that erupted from the bowels of the house sent that same heart spinning up her throat. An image of the Hound of the Baskervilles popped into Joann’s head, from somewhere in the depths of her soul. Fiery eyes embedded in the face of a dark, raging, distorted figure.
Janet turned to look at her with a shocked expression. “Oh, my goodness! I forgot to ask. Are you afraid of dogs?”
“Yes, if they sound like that,” Joann managed a feeble gasp as she gripped the door of the car, ready to cram herself back into the tiny vehicle, doubting it could give her any shelter against a beast that sounded like it was about to smash through the solid oak door.
A glitch of surprise passed over Janet’s face, then she burst out laughing. “Oh, I’m so sorry. No, no–he’s not mean, not at all. He’s very noisy, but trust me, he’s the worst guard dog in the whole world.” She walked to the door and opened it.
A silent scream filled Joann’s soul and her eyes flared in terror. Out charged by far the biggest German Shepherd she’d ever seen. The dog had a wide grin on his face. His tongue lolled out as he hopped around Janet, wagging his whole body in an enthusiastic welcome.
“Ooh, did you think that I had abandoned you, you poor thing?” Janet spoke in a mushy tone and ruffled the dog with both hands. The over-happy creature charged down the yard and lifted his leg against a tree with a blissful smile; or that’s what the expression on his face looked like to Joann. Then he perked, pricked up his huge ears and charged at her.
Time slowed down as she watched the last seconds of her life flow past in silent, frozen terror. The furry giant leaped down the lawn, his tongue now hanging to the side of his mouth and pointing backwards, his ears flat against his head. The spray of frothy saliva flew in the air and created a halo of mist around his large head, clearly visible in the intense rays of the sun.
“Vader, stay!” came a sharp command from somewhere behind Joann, and the creature slammed the brakes on, sliding on all fours. He came to a halt right next to Joann, panting excitedly, and eying her and Janet in turns, as if asking his owner, 'Who’s this, Mom? Can I play with her, Mom? Please, Mom?’
His tail wagged from side to side, slowly.
“You have absolutely nothing to fear, Joann. He may be a bit boisterous now, since he’s been locked away in the house all day, but he will calm down soon. He’s the friendliest, the softest and the most lovable Alsatian I’ve ever had.”
“How many have you had?”
“He’s the third one. Go ahead, give him a pat.”
Joann reached to stroke the dog. He stood still, wagging his tail, eyes fixed on Janet.
“Okay, good dog. Off you go, Vader.” The moment he got permission he slurped Joann’s hand with his slimy, wet tongue and then charged around the yard again, clearly enjoying his newfound freedom.
“Vader?” Joann smiled at her aunt.
“Well, just look at him. That black pattern on his face looks exactly like Darth Vader’s mask, doesn’t it?”
At that moment the dog stopped and stared at them, his tongue withdrawn and alert, listening to something.
“Yes, I guess it does.” Joann laughed at the dog as it suddenly bounced up in the air and resumed exploring the yard. “How old is he? Can’t be very old the way he charges around the place.”
“He’s only two, so still a puppy, in a way.”
“Darth Vader.” Joann chuckled.
“I named him in the hope that he would grow up to be a very mean guard dog, to keep my paintings safe while I was away from home, but it turned out that this Vader has no connection to the dark side.” Janet laughed as she sent a warm look after the animal. “But he’s very good company, and people are afraid of him, so I guess I have to be satisfied with that. Come, let’s get you set up. You’ve had a long day, and I bet you are looking forward to a nice swim in the Mediterranean.”