Personification

Chapter 1

Personification 

Chapter 1

Reggio Calabria Airport, Southern Italy

"Ah! Signora?"

I looked over my shoulder and saw a man coming toward me. His light brown hair came down in almost unnoticeable waves across his brow. His pale blue polo shirt and khaki shorts appeared pressed and unwrinkled, despite his effort to cross the street to get to me.

I wonder what he wants? I thought as he finally caught up to my spot.

"Vuoi pranzare insieme? Si guarda all'estero; tale bei capelli..." he said.

"Huh? Uh... I don't understand. I don't really speak Italian; I'm a tourist."

The man's lidded eyes opened wider and he uttered an "oh" before smiling.

"I'm sorry. You speak English. Are you American?"

"Yeah, I'm from the U.S." I told him truthfully.

"Ve, so nice," he sighed. "What city are you from?"

A bit surprised at the start of a conversation, I hesitated a second before giving him an answer.

"I was born in Bossier City, on a military instillation. I'm not really from anywhere."

I didn't live in Bossier anymore. We always moved so there was never really a "home", so to speak. My home was America in its entirety.

The man was quiet before looking off to the side.

"Military... I see."

He looked kinda down now, even though I hadn't the slightest clue as to why. There was no point in thinking over it though. If he was here, and obviously a local, maybe he could help me find a good place to eat.

"Anyway," I started, "can you please direct me to a good restaurant?"

He perked up at this and smiled big. "Sì! Sì! That's what I was asking beforehand. Sorry about that!" His excitement turned into concentration before he snapped his fingers. "Va bene! Since we're in Calabria, let me take you to a great place I know of."

I narrowed my eyes at this. Wasn't Calabria like the province or something? That could mean another city altogether. I asked him where it was and he told "me not too far". I pulled out my phone and checked the time. I had less than six hours left on my layover. I should be good as long as this guy isn't a kidnapper or anything.

Agreeing, I allowed him to happily lead me on the short, but hot, journey to a beach.

"Hwa, it's really hot," I complained softly.

"Take off your jacket?" he suggested.

Shaking my head, I pulled my thin gray jacket closer, as if he might try and take it from me. It's not a security thing, it's just a comfort thing. I don't know... I just don't want to have to not wear my jacket.

If that even makes sense, I thought.

"This restaurant is special," the guy informed me. "My brother came here before. He said the food was great but--"

"Turtles?" I exclaimed, interrupting him. I stared at the sign above the restaurant that had a sea turtle connected to the name.

It's turtle themed? Please no...

"Sì, they changed the logo after 2008. Pretty cool, eh?"

"Please tell me they don't serve turtles here," I begged quietly. I wouldn't be able to bear the trauma of cute little turtles being turned into soup.

"Eh?! Turtles?" The man questioned, clearly disgusted.

"The logo!" I pointed with my finger.

What else was I supposed to assume?

©AmaraDeFelice 2013