The Italian Touch

The Ring

I wake up to a woman screaming and a man holding my whole body in his hands, one hand on my head and one on my back. He had giant hands, and according to his voice, he sounded like a giant. I notice I'm completely naked. I tried to open my eyes, but it's like someone has sucked all of the energy out of my body. The man speaks, and in Italian. "Cole Marino."
The woman had stopped screaming and is breathing heavy. She speaks softly. "Leonardo Marino." The man laughs softly, a shy laugh, like a blushing laugh."Okay, Cole Leonardo Marino."

One Hour Earlier

I gather myself and stand up. Clear your mind. I think hard, closing my eyes. I fill my mind with that thought, ironically enough. I exhale slowly and walk out of my room, into the main corridor. My parent's room is only 3 doors away, but it feels like a mile. I practically sprint to their door, nervous, excited, sad, and happy all at the same time. When I get to the door I take a breath and open it slowly and silently, as to not wake my mother. I take off my shoes and  sneak to my fathers dresser, double tapping the sock drawer to open it automatically and quietly. I know that the company my father buys socks from makes colored fabric a little less soft than white or black fabric, and I know that all my father's socks are either white or black except this white and red one he speaks of in the note. I feel around for a colored sock and find it in less than 50 seconds. There's definitely a ring in there. I pull it out and slice it open on the unsafely sharp dresser corner. I pull out the ring and pause. Do I really want to do this? Do I even know what this ring may do to me? No, it's just a ring. It looks like it's made out of carbon steel, some sort of gold, and ruby.

I put the ring on my left ring finger. It's surprisingly a perfect fit. Suddenly, I'm nearly paralyzed by a horrible pain in my finger, as blood trickles down my hand. I immediately try to rip the ring off, but it makes the pain so much worse. I'm pretty sure it impaled my finger. I have to purse my lips together to stop from screaming, but I scream in my mind. STOP! I immediately hear a voice in my ear, like someone is talking right into my left ear. "I'm afraid I cannot stop, as this is one of many tests to see if you, Cole, are worthy of this ring." At this point I can't help myself. I whisper loudly, "Who are you?" My mom sits up, and I can see tears glinting in her eyes in the little amount of light from the moon in her window. I gasp.
"I've been up this whole time, before you apologize. I simply can't sleep."
Nonetheless, I blurt out, "I'm sorry."
"Come here." My mom scoots over and hands me a tissue. I sit next to her and clean up my bloodied hand. She hugs me tight and kisses my forehead. When I pull away from the hug, her face says it all. Everything that words can and cannot explain, her sadness, pride, memories, loneliness, hope, everything. She pulls the picture of my family on the bridge out of my pocket and gestures towards my ring, which has somehow created a contact with a golden ring where my iris would be. I put it in my left eye and take the picture, putting two and two together and placing the electronic chip over the ring. My left eye is filled with light. I allow it to adjust and see a larger version of the picture my mother gave me, and something like one of those old Google Doc things that my mom used in grade school, back in the 20s, when Google was still a thing. Before Musk landed on Mars, before full house AI was in nearly 90% of international homes, before Mr. Musk advanced all of our tech. My mom finally speaks.
"So you can write me letters and I can write you. I don't know what it's like having that little robot lady in your head or that ring permanently attached to your finger or the weight of the world on your shoulders but I know for a fact that you can do this. You are a great young man and I know that you will do this if you try your best. Never forget us." My mother pulls me into a tight, long hug and kisses my head again, and I feel her tears drip onto my head. "Trust it." My mom puts her hand over my heart. "Now go." I get up and right before I open my mouth to ask where, the voice comes back. "Please go to the main living room." I pause, look at my mom one last time, and sprint to the banister over the living room, then jump over it and do a safety roll as to not break my ankles when I land. Once I get up, standing next to the coffee table, the voice says something in Italian. "Can you repeat that?" I ask so I can translate it correctly. I hear it clearly this time, "What does Italian Renaissance mean?" At first it seems like a dumb question. "It means Italian Rebirth."
"Good. In what language?" It still speaks in Italian.
"French, ironically enough," I say.
Now it speaks in French. "What was the last main land battle of the American Revolution?"
"The Siege of Yorktown, also known as the German Battle."
"Good. Now, break the table."
"Excuse me?"
"Please break the table. It's the last test. Also, I can read your dominant thoughts. Yes, I am really in your head. Yes, you can call me Karen, and yes, in a way I'm your friend."
I scoff and shift my weight to a more comfortable position, so I'm not standing awkwardly in the living room with paining legs. Why should I trust you? I think.

"Because, I have been in your family for 39,923 years. I spoke with your 756 times great grandfather, Gramathor The Greatest, hundreds of times a day for decades. You see, every few generations there's another threat to this universe, this time, luckily, it's in the past of this world. You're familiar with it, actually. Every few generations, I choose the youngest and most capable child in your family to face the threat. You're going to have a son some day and I might speak to him or his son or his son's son. Don't worry, I'll tell them all about you."

"Well then. Fair enough." I jump on my side onto the table and I'm immediately met by blackness, blindness, absolutely nothing. Well then.

I wake up to a woman screaming and a man holding my whole body in his hands, one hand on my head and one on my back. He had giant hands, and according to his voice, he sounded like a giant. I notice that I'm completely naked.I tried to open my eyes, but it's like someone has sucked all of the energy out of my body. The man speaks, and in Italian. "Cole Marino."
The woman had stopped screaming and is breathing heavy. She speaks softly. "Leonardo Marino." The man laughs softly, a shy laugh, like a blushing laugh."Va bene (okay), Cole Leonardo Marino."
"Now of course we can't forget this!" The man said, placing some kind of necklace around me. "Aprile 15th, 1454 will go down in history as the day the greatest polymath ever was born!" I hear the man say. He whispers into my ear, "you are going to be a great man some day." So, I'm in the Italian Renaissance with no idea as to why I'm here and I'm literally a baby. Well then..