“Listen to Luciano,” said Dianora, her eyes sultry, penetrating. “He won’t lead you wrong.”
Samuel resigned himself to waiting and turned his attention back to the plate in front of him, while Luciano and Dianora stepped outside to talk. A few minutes later, Luciano came back inside alone.
“Dianora will drive us to the Embassy later tonight. We’ll hide you on the floor in back of the car and rush you inside,” said Luciano.
Samuel could barely swallow his last bite. He jumped from his seat and rushed over to Luciano, crashing into the husky Italian, almost knocking him down. Tears filled Samuel’s eyes and he cried. “Thank you,” he said, sniffling. “Thank you very much.”
“Now, now, little one,” said Luciano, his own voice raspy. “We’ll have none of that. Get cleaned up. We don’t want to take you home dirty, now do we?”
Samuel finally let Luciano go and wiped his eyes. The Italian pointed him to the bedroom. “There are clean towels on the bed in my room, and the bathroom’s down the hall. I’ll clean the kitchen, and then we can play checkers and chess while we wait.” Samuel, excited, skipped down the hall. He found the towels on the bed as Luciano instructed, and noticed a group of pictures on the nightstand. One was a photo of a much younger Luciano, standing next to a gray haired woman Samuel guessed to be his mother. Samuel smiled. Soon, I’ll be home with my mom.
Samuel turned to head for the bathroom and glanced out the window.
His eyes fell on a sight that sent his knees shaking. Sister Bravo and Father Sin exited a black Mercedes across the street, and were headed toward Luciano’s building.
22
W arm urine ran down Samuel’s right leg into his sneakers, and formed a puddle on the dingy blue carpet in Luciano’s bedroom. This time it wasn’t an act. He dropped the towel and slowly edged backwards away from the window, Sister Bravo and the demon priest still in sight.
“Hurry, little one,” called Luciano. “The checker board is getting cold.”
Samuel, shaking and numb, tried to answer but the words drifted off in whispers. He cleared his throat, tears running down his cheeks. “Just a second,” he managed to eek out, now sitting on the edge of the bed. He stared down at the carpet in a daze. Why is this happening? Why? He jumped to his feet. Luciano betrayed me! The thought quelled his shaking and sent his teeth grinding. I’m not going back! I’m not! He eased toward the window.
The nun and priest climbed the stairs, headed for the second floor apartment, hell-born scowls on their contorted faces. No doubt Father Sin caught it good for letting Samuel get away, and the ten year old was not about to stick around for the punishment.
Samuel slipped out the door, tiptoed down the hall and ducked into the bathroom. He sat down on the toilet, closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. A strong rap on the door startled him out of his momentary meditation and he eased up, stood on the commode, and pushed open the cloudy glass window. Two floors down, he saw an empty yard, except for bare hedges, barren rose bushes, and a half grass, mostly dirt, lawn.
He couldn’t find anything to land on, and nothing to hang from. No balcony, no fire escape, nothing. He got down off the toilet and pressed his ear against the door.
“What boy?” he heard Luciano exclaim. “There’s no boy here, only Luciano!”
“Then you must be expecting someone,” answered Sister Bravo. “I see the checker board is set up.”
“Yes,” said the Italian. “I’m expecting company.” Samuel heard the thud of Father Sin’s hooves across the floor.
“There are two plates in the sink, Sister,” Father Sin quipped.
“I entertained last night,” Luciano lied quickly. “There’s no sin in being a slob.”
“Then you won’t mind if we have a look around,” Father Sin growled.
“No,” snapped Luciano, “I want both of you to leave immediately!” Samuel heard a crash, a groan, and the sound of checkers being knocked to the floor. He cracked open the door and saw Luciano pinned to the floor, Father Sin on top, slapping him in the face. Sister Bravo eerily slithered into view, staring right at Samuel.
A sinister smile broke out on Sister Bravo’s face. “Father, he’s in the bathroom,” she said.
Father Sin stopped grappling, turned toward Samuel, and gave a fiendish smile. He punched Luciano hard in the face.
“Run Samuel!” his Italian friend screamed, biting the priest hard on the arm.
Father Sin grabbed his forearm. “Arrrrhhh, damn you!” Samuel slammed the door and locked it. A loud thud and the sound of heavy footsteps coming toward the bathroom sent him flying through the window.
Feet dangling, grip weak, Samuel hung suspended two stories from the ground, teeth chattering. A loud crash of splintering wood almost caused him to let go, as the metal creases from the windowpane cut into his hands. He looked up and saw Father Sin edging toward him.
“Don’t do anything else foolish, boy. We don’t want to hurt you,” said Father Sin.
Samuel, angered by such obvious bullshit, felt enraged, empowered.
“Go to hell!” he spewed through gritted teeth, and let go.
Samuel’s body seemed to hang suspended in the air, defying nature.
Father Sin lunged for him, but missed. Samuel watched the priest rise into the air as he fell away and crashed hard to the ground.
23
D azed and groggy, Samuel propped himself up on his elbows and stared up through blurred vision, barely able to see Father Sin hanging out of Luciano’s bathroom window. A brisk shake of his head and his eyesight cleared. When he looked up again, the priest was gone.
Panicked, Samuel rolled over, pushed himself up and ran down the street in front of the building.
“Samuel, stop!” he heard Sister Bravo yell. “Stop right now!” Adrenaline filled Samuel’s veins, numbing the pain in his muscles.
The longer he ran, the stronger he felt.
Quiet and near desolate, the neighborhood Luciano lived in was lined with small apartment buildings, villas, and a few single-family houses, all surrounded by lush green countryside and endless rolling hills.
Nobody seemed to pay much attention as Samuel barreled along the stony sidewalk like a tiny race car, toward a destination unknown, weaving in and out of a sparse scattering of pedestrians along the way.
Samuel heard the screech of tires in the distance, looked back, but saw nothing. He made a right and ran down a steep, narrow street, past a block of old buildings that reminded him of something he’d seen in history books back at school. He ducked inside the courtyard of a small villa and stooped down behind a chipped white wooden fence. The angry growl of a car engine, and high-pitched whine of rubber fighting to hold the road, sent Samuel lower to the ground. He peeked through the slats in the fence and watched Sister Bravo and Father Sin speed by, screeching around another corner and disappear.
Breathing hard, heart pounding, Samuel smiled. He sat back against the fence and reveled in his minor victory. An hour passed before he peeked out at the quiet street and eased the gate open, listening closely for the sound of approaching footsteps or vehicles. He calmed down and his vitals fell back to normal. He took a long look around at his surroundings. The town was made up of a series of green hills with houses planted all around. From where he stood he could look down over the rooftops of buildings similar to those he saw in Luciano’s neighborhood. Luciano, I hope you’re okay.
Wherever he was, Samuel knew it wasn’t Rome. The town was much slower and quieter than the city he witnessed the day before. On the other side of town lay an endless horizon of green hills splattered with small white and yellow cottages. It struck Samuel that it was the type of scene his father and mother would have enjoyed.
