CRAVING U (The Rook Café) (13 page)

“Bitch! You know how much I want to be there with you
....
”  Carlotta couldn’t contain her envy. “Lucky
bastard! So,” she continued, getting a hold of herself, “tell me about it.”

“We’ve walked just about every street in
the city center, and I even convinced my father to take me to see the Olympic
Stadium, from the outside, though.  You can’t imagine it, it’s enormous, like a
modern day Coliseum...” she concluded, dreaming of her own gladiator.

“I can’t believe you went to the stadium,”
Carlotta commented snobbishly, totally uninterested in soccer.  “What were you
thinking?”

“Hey, I also went to the Ponte Milvio, but
I didn’t have a padlock with me.”  She was referring to the location made
famous in Federico Moccia’s novel
I Want You
, where two lovers swear
eternal love by throwing a key into the Tiber after locking their padlock to a
lamppost in the middle of the bridge.  With no key to open it, their love would
remain unbreakable forever.

“You didn’t have a padlock... or a
boyfr...” Carlotta said, breaking herself off before insulting her cousin
again.

“We’re in Trastevere right now.  It’s
absolutely packed with clubs and boys!”  Marika ignored what her cousin was
saying, perhaps not even hearing it.  “They’re so friendly and so cute!  You’d
love it here,” she finished.

“Speaking of cute guys...” Carlotta began,
trying to get a word in.  But before she could, Marika was off and running
again, telling her stories about her vacation.

“Last night I had
tonnarelli
pasta
with cheese and pepper sauce; it was like food for the Gods!  And I tried some
of my Dad’s
amatriciana
sauce and the Jewish artichokes of my mother,”
she said, licking her lips.  “Everything’s amazing here, there’s just so much
to tell you about Rome.”

“I bet,” Carlotta whined, having decided
not to tell Marika any of the news about her friends at home.

But she wasn’t quick enough. Changing subjects on a dime, Marika
caught her off guard. “So, what were you saying? News from
The Rook
?”

“No, no... I was just rambling,” Carlotta
said, embarrassed and trying to wiggle out of the question. “I can’t hear you
very well, we can talk about it when you get back.”

“
What
should we talk about when I
get back?” she insisted, determined to get an answer.

“Oh... it’s nothing...” her cousin
replied, evasively and in a voice barely above a whisper. “Really, what could
have happened in three days?”

“Let
me
be the judge of that,”
Marika said firmly, her blood running cold.

“OK.” Carlotta gave in, her voice
hesitant, but also euphoric. She could barely get the words out of her mouth. “I
have to tell you something that’s going to shock you. You better sit down.”

There was silence on both ends of the
line. Marika felt like she was suddenly a million miles away. She couldn’t decipher
the tone of her cousin’s voice.

“You ready?”

“Yes. I’m leaning against a column by
Bernini, is that good enough?” she asked, panic rising in her throat. “Do I
need to worry?”

“No, absolutely not.  Matteo has
nothing to do with it.”  She took a deep breath. “It’s about me and Dario.”

“Since when is there a ‘
you and Dario
’?”
Marika felt the tension run out of her body and leaned for real against the
stone wall that held back the Tiber.

Carlotta took another deep breath and said
emotionally, “We got together last night.”

Those few words, transmitted through a
hand-held object and a network of satellites, were enough to set a million
thoughts and questions off in Marika’s mind. “What are you talking about? I don’t
believe you!” Marika squealed, thrilled by the news. “That’s awesome! I’m so
happy!” She was stunned, elated, confused. “How did it happen? Tell me
everything.”  She bowled her over with questions.

“He’s so sweet, you can’t possibly
understand! With his big, hazel, puppy-dog eyes... I was such a fool not to
realize it sooner!” She paused. “And he’s a pretty good kisser too, he’s got
real potential. He just needs some practice,” she giggled saucily. “And now I
can even help out with your relationship with Matteo from the inside!” She rubbed
her hands together in glee.

“Don’t you dare!” Marika growled,
terrified of her cousin’s big mouth. “No Carlotta, I’m begging you.
 Promise not to get involved!”

“OK, OK, I get the message,” she said,
admiring her figure in the mirror. “I’m just so excited, I got carried away. Don’t
worry, I’ll be as quiet as a clam.”

“I hope so,” Marika let slip. “Listen, I’ve
got to go now,” she said as her parents were showing signs of impatience. “But
don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily. I want all the details.”

“And I can’t wait to tell you.” She
reluctantly said goodbye. “What are you doing tonight, anyway?”

“We still have the final leg of the
Vendramini Tour.” Marika waved at her parents, who were tapping furiously at
their wrists, and hurriedly said goodbye. “Talk to you later!”

From the panoramic lookout at the top of
the Janiculum Hill, the incomparable beauty of all of Rome spread out below
her, all of its monuments illuminated in the night. According to a tradition
that went back to the time of Pope Pius IX, midday is announced by the firing
of a cannon from that very spot. The very first cannon was fired from Castel
Sant’Angelo with the objective of “
reducing the confusion often caused by
the frequent and irregular tolling of clock towers at all hours in the city
.”
As reported in the
Diario Romano
on November 30, 1847, the cannon shot
was the signal for all of the church bells to being ringing.

Seated on the terrace looking down on the
immense city, so large and grandiose as to take your breath away, she found
herself thinking about the last weeks and the unexpected turn of events in her
relationship with Matteo.  Instinctively, and without considering the time
of night, she took out her smartphone and called him.

“Hello?”
It was him!
Her heart
began thumping, and with each beat it became harder and harder for her to
formulate a single word. The palms of her hands began sweating, and there wasn’t
enough air left in her lungs to make her vocal cords vibrate. What an explosion
his voice caused, even from 350 miles away! Up until that moment, she had been
able to keep that sense of sadness at having been separated from him at bay,
but now she felt as if she would go crazy if she couldn’t see him.

Panicking, she moved her fingertip toward
the red button to hang up, when....

“Hello? Marika?” Obviously her name had
shown up on his display. Thank God for caller ID!  Hearing her name on his lips
had never been so wildly exciting. “Hi Matteo,” she stammered. “Sorry for
calling so late....”

“No problem, I’m still out. Everything OK?”
His voice sounded worried, considering the hour.

“Yeah, sorry.  Everything’s amazing here,
Rome is like a movie studio!” It was the first time in her life that she had
felt embarrassed while speaking with him on the phone. “I heard about Carlotta
and Dario.” These last weeks had truly turned into an avalanche of
first
times
.

“Yeah, I know! I don’t know any of the
details yet, but it happened last night at the
Ca’ Lounge
. He actually
pulled it off, and she finally opened her eyes. It was about time! I’m really
happy for him.”

“For them,” she corrected him,
automatically, distracted by the thought that Matteo and Lucrezia might be in
the same club at that very moment.

“Fine, fine, you’re right.
For them
.”

“So how was your New Year’s?” Marika asked
breathlessly, afraid to discover that her cousin had forgotten to tell her some
crucial detail.

“No big deal, we were at the club all
night, we danced, drank a bit... that’s all. The usual,” he said, sounding
sincere. “You?”

“Me too.” She wanted to tell him that
nothing had changed since Christmas Eve. “I was out at a restaurant with my parents.
I missed you guys.” She didn’t have the courage to take out that final word,
guys
, and speak directly about him, even though her heart was begging her
to.

“Yeah, we missed you too....” He let his
voice tail off, unsure what kind of emphasis to give to this sentiment, before
giving way to his masculine side, turning it all into a joke. “Especially your
passion for vampires!”

She wasn’t in the mood for joking. “How’s
everyone else? Sandra and Giacomo... Livia... Lucrezia??” She was certain that
if something had happened, she would be able to hear it in his voice.

“Yeah, they were all there, but aside from
what happened with Dario and Carlotta, there’s nothing to tell. No news.” He
knew her too well not to know what she was really asking.

Unlike Matteo, who never took Lucrezia’s
advances very seriously, Carlotta had given her all the details about how Lucrezia
had tried to flirt with Matteo the previous evening, though without success.
 She had had to content herself as usual with Valerio.

“So everything’s fine,” she said, letting
out a short, satisfied laugh. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Me too,” he said, knowing to have scored
some points. “Happy New Year!”

“Oh... yeah!” She had totally forgotten
her excuse for having called him in the first place. “Happy New Year.”

“Marika?”

“Yeah?” she asked, looking at her
reflection in the eyes of a young couple.

“I’m glad you called.”

Score!
“Me too.” She tried to keep
her voice steady after her heart did a backflip.

“Marika, come on!” Her parents were
calling her loudly, since none of their more discreet attempts to get her
attention had been successful. “Move it! We’re going back to the hotel.”

Regretfully, she was forced to hang up.

“Call me whenever you want,” he said,
leaving her in a state of ecstasy, and almost making her drop her phone.

“You too. See you soon, Matteo,” she said,
her voice dripping with honey, savoring the taste of his name on her lips.

On the train ride home from that magical
land, her mind wandered restlessly, unable to sit still, amped up as if she had
drunk ten cups of coffee and taken a massive hit of amphetamines. She smiled to
herself, remembering the graffiti she had seen all over the city rendering
homage to the beloved captain of the
AS Roma
soccer club, the most
eloquent of which was no doubt, “TOTTI, FOR YOU, I’D EVEN GO GAY!”

“
I don’t know if I have been able to describe
that unique Roman world that tempts you like the song of the sirens
,” she
wrote in her diary, “
but I am totally certain of one thing: this city will
leave me memories not only of its art, its fountains, its Italian ices with
fresh-squeezed lemon juice and shaved coconut, and its monuments, but more than
anything I will remember the emotions that it inspired in me, like a generous
and infinite muse.  Thank you Rome!
” She ended her traveler’s diary
with this declaration of love.

The Florence train station was the last
thing that she remembered of that trip, just before falling into the soft arms
of Morpheus, son of Sleep and Night. She was exhausted and relaxed, and leaned
her head against the window. No need for pills; the drop in temperature had a drowsy
effect, and the gentle rocking of the train had done the rest.

The philosopher Nicola Abbagnano claims
that the primary reason young people take drugs is the desire to find new ways
or powers of perception that allow them to see the world in a form that is
different from that of common experience.

Marika didn’t want to see things with
different eyes, and she didn’t need any chemical substances to enhance her
emotions. And for the first time in her life, she did not want to change
herself or the perception that others had of her. One year after her only
experience with drugs – the one that bears the closest resemblance to nicotine –
when it had seemed easier for her to imitate others than to think for herself,
a new maturity seemed to be flowering inside her. That time, it had been the
disappointed look on Matteo’s face that had stopped her, more humiliating than
anything in the world. He had no need to change who he was in order to be
accepted by others. He was a natural, confident leader, and everyone followed
his lead. Afterwards, it was easy: no nicotine, pot, coke, or any synthetic
drug of any name or popularity... nothing that could alter human perception.
That
was too unique, too precious to tamper with.

She awoke to the jolt of the train as it
stopped at the Verona station.

“
We’re back
,” she thought, looking
at what little snow remained at the sides of the roads, turned the color of ash
by the traffic. “
I can’t wait to see him
,” was the only thought in her
head, and it had been repeating itself over and over again throughout the vacation
with ever greater vigor. It was time to get back to the same old same old,
which had never before seemed so extraordinarily wonderful.