Long Island, New York
Summer, 1984
Summer has never been my favorite season. The heat and humidity are treacherous; but the amount of capitalistic marketing behind everything you see; it's deterring. Advertisement is all America is made for. If this country could be anything, it'd be a billboard the size of the ocean that reads, "Live here! But only if you're boring and white!" Hell, I'm boring and white, and I still hate it here. If I could leave, I would. The only obstacle is my family. I could never leave them, no matter how washed with bigotry they are.
As I sit outside the corner bistro near my apartment, I take in my surroundings. There are people walking in every direction, and just ahead of me I can see the entrance to Gentry Pier. The sign hangs over the road with white and red painted lettering. It makes me think of Disney World. Fond memories begin to resurface. I haven't been home for a while, but it feels as if I never left. After I departed from Italy, I took a small trip to Florida with my brother, William. We wen't to Disney there. I knew if I hadn't, the trip's predecessor would be my only thought. Now, it's much easier remembering the Fantasia show instead.
"What's on your mind, Oli?" my fiancée beckons me from my thoughts, and I focus on her. Maria is one of the most beautiful women I've ever met. It's a wonder how she agreed to marry me.
"Oh, you know. Just admiring the day," I smile at her from behind my sunglasses. She continues to read from her book. I'm not sure what it's about, but when I read the title, it made me feel like I could drive myself into a wall after a chapter. I believe the words "American" and "dream" homed themselves beside each other. I could do with anything but.
"Well, you do know we have dinner tonight with your parents?" she asks this without looking up to see me shift anxiously. I'm now reminded of the dreadful acting I will have to pull in front of my father. Every time I see him, he says something disastrous, and it's like I'm the only one who hears him. Let's just say, if he ever managed to come into a position of power, I certainly wouldn't stick around for very long. "We also have to stop by Gerald's," she adds from behind her book, once again.
"Sure thing," I stare at her hoping she'll look up at me, but she doesn't. A part of me is disappointed, but I know I shouldn't be. Expectation is a fickle thing. One moment you may receive the world, but one move can leave you with the hope of a pebble. I'm tired of hoping for pebbles, but my situation leaves me with no choice. One truly impossible man; it seems no one can understand him.
After we leave the bistro, we walk around downtown and shop a bit. Candy stores and bakeries line the street, all populated with maple trees and smiley tourists. You can always tell who is from the area and who isn't. If you look at them and they smile at you, chances are they're either a scam artist or a tourist. That does come with a few acceptions; one being Gerald Foreworth.
"Mr. Foreworth! How are you?" Maria and I enter his quaint shop hand-in-hand. "It's too beautiful of a day to be down, so I hope to hear well!"
"Oliver and Maria! What a treat this is!" The old gentleman shuffles from behind his counter to greet us. "Don't worry about ole me. I'm doing marvelous. What brings you to my antiques shop?"
"Well, as you know; Maria and I are to be married soon, and we were hoping to look around and find something that might serve as her something old. Perhaps we could find something blue as well? You have always been quite an influence in my life, Sir. I trust your judgement," I smile at him as he stares up at me from behind his smudged glasses. He looks around him for a brief moment and then back to me.
