#luca/alberto fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ironychan · 3 months

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Homecoming

Part One - Arrival

Part Two - Discovery

@writer652 @dysphoria-sweatshirt @careless-whispers

Maria woke up in the middle of the night when she heard the clatter of wood, and sat up sharply, blinking in the dark. Had something fallen over? Was there a stranger in the tower? She couldn't see any familiar shapes in the half-light. Had somebody...

Then she remembered – she was not in the tower. She was in her childhood room, now turned into a nursery for Massimo and Helena's baby. She'd been asleep on the mattress on the floor, and Alberto was in her arms, now awake and whimpering. The window was open, and the sound she'd heard was the wind blowing the shutters against the wall.

Shaking slightly, Maria got to her feet and shut the window, sliding the latch into place with a soft whine of rusty metal. Then she sat down again and gathered Alberto up for a hug, reaching under his shirt to rub his back.

“It's okay,” she soothed. “It's just the wind. We're warm and safe in here. Uncle Massimo and Aunt Helena are going to look after us.” At least, she hoped they would. As long as she managed to keep Alberto's secret.

She lay down again, and Alberto curled up against her. It was nice to be back inside a real building. They'd put up canvas at the tower to keep the worst of the weather out, and Giancarlo had always talked about repairing the wall properly someday. He'd never gotten around to it, though, and stormy nights like this had been terrible.

Maria had to wonder what Giancarlo was doing right now. He'd probably been back to the island, and discovered his wife and son were missing. If he looked, he would find the boat in Portorosso's little harbour. What if he came to the door and showed her up as a liar? What if he revealed his son's transformations in front of everybody? Would Massimo pull one of those harpoons off the wall and run him through? Would he then do the same to Alberto?

She shook her head and stroked her son's curls. Thinking about what if was never productive. She just had to take things as they came. Hopefully she was up to it, for Alberto's sake.

In the morning it was still wet and stormy out. Maria could see the boats in the harbour, riding up and down on the swells, and the leaves on the tree outside were thrashing in the wind. It seemed a luxury to be indoors, even as the walls creaked and the radiator whistled.

“Good morning,” said Helena, appearing at the door with a bundle in her arms. “I brought you some spare clothes... I won't fit back into these until well after the baby arrives.”

“Oh, thank you,” said Maria. She was too tall to borrow clothing from most women, but Helena was almost as tall as she. “You don't have anything that would work for Alberto, do you?”

Helena shook her head. “We've got baby clothes, but nothing big enough for him.”

“I'll make do,” Maria promised.

Helena's dresses were a little tight, but not too much. Maria washed up and dressed, changed Alberto's nappy, and headed downstairs.

She found Helena sitting in the kitchen with her bare feet up, eating some rather damp pastries Massimo had brought back from the baker, and surrounded by sketches. Maria came to see what she'd been drawing, and found a dozen views of Portorosso and the dramatic cliffs and terrace farms that surrounded the town.

“These are lovely,” she said. They made her dull little hometown look like a place from a fairy tale.

“Thank you,” Helena replied. “I got accepted to art school in Firenze, but then I met Massimo, and you know how plans change.”

“Yes, I do,” Maria agreed. Except... she really hadn't had any plans until she'd met Giancarlo. Only vague dreams of doing something with her life besides selling fish in the middle of nowhere. The two of them had then made plans together, how they were going to travel the whole world and see its wonders... but then, yes, things had changed.

"I'd wanted to spend a year in the countryside and paint, anyway,” Helena added. “This is such a beautiful town. There's always something new here. The sun hits the roofs in a different place each day, the sea has a thousand moods, the stars reflect on the water... I could paint this place for a thousand years and never run out of subjects.”

That sounded bizarre to somebody who'd always thought of Portorosso as the most boring place in the world. “Where are you from?” Maria asked, sitting down at the table.

Helena offered her the soggy paper bag with the pastries. “Genova. Not far away, I guess, but it feels like a million miles sometimes. It's so much bigger and busier there, all crowds and noise. Portorosso is so peaceful.”

Dull. Portorosso was dull. Genova had always sounded like a metropolis, like a place where big and exciting things were always happening. It wouldn't have occurred to Maria to think of it as crowded and loud.

“There's coffee,” Helena added.

“Oh, thank you.” Maria fished a pastry out of the bag for Alberto, and went to pour herself a cup.

Alberto examined this strange foodstuff. They'd had bread sometimes on the island, when Giancarlo brought it back from the various places he'd been working, but most of their food had always come from the sea. The cream-filled croissant didn't look like anything the baby had ever been given before. He dug his fat little fingers into it and pulled it apart, fascinated by the filling oozing out. Finally he thought to taste it, and his face lit up. He stuffed the rest in his mouth.

“Is that good?” asked Maria, sitting down beside him with her coffee.

Alberto grinned with his mouth full and his cheeks puffed out, and reached for the cup.

“Ah, ah, this is not for you,” Maria told him. “You can have a drink when I'm done.” He really was too old to nurse anymore, but she hadn't had a lot of other treats to offer him. Now that they were in town, the baby could be properly weaned. That would be a relief.

“He's so curious,” said Helena fondly, as Alberto sucked pastry crumbs off his fingers.

Maria moved a little, so that Helena would not be able to see if Alberto's hands began to turn purple. “This is a new place,” she said, “but he's a bright little fellow.” Alberto always needed to investigate and study everything shown to him, from snails on rocks to pieces of sea glass.

“According to the newspaper, the rain is supposed to let up later,” said Helena. “We could do some shopping. He'll need new clothes and so will you.”

“That's a good idea. I'll pay you back when I have the money,” Maria promised.

“If that would make you feel better,” Helena said. “Massimo told me you'd always been very independent.” She watched as Alberto slid down from his seat to start exploring the kitchen again. “I think he must take after you that way.”

“He does,” Maria agreed. “He tries to dress himself but he always gets stuck. He'll manage someday.” She looked around the kitchen, to make sure there were no more buckets of water and creatures sitting around.

Helena noticed. “Massimo delivered the lobsters last night,” she assured Maria.

Massimo himself joined them a few minutes later, his hair and shoulders wet from being outdoors where he'd been checking on the boat. “The water is too rough for fishing this morning,” he said, without any other greeting to the women. “I may go out later if it calms.” He sat down, and Maria pushed the coffee pot towards him. Massimo nodded thanks and poured himself a cup, then sat and watched his nephew opening and closing cupboard doors. “How is he this morning?”

“Into everything already,” said Helena. “Maria and I may go out shopping later, since we were saying he needs things.”

Massimo nodded.

It was always difficult to tell what Massimo was thinking. Maria had once been good at it, but she'd been away for a long time, and she'd gotten used to Giancarlo, who showed everything he was thinking on his face even if he sometimes put great effort into lying about it. Was there something on Massimo's mind, or was he just being his usual quiet self?

“Is something wrong?” asked Helena.

“Maria's boat is gone,” said Massimo.

Maria's heart leaped into her throat. Giancarlo must have come back for it. Why hadn't he visited the house? Was it because he was afraid of Massimo? Or had he been there looking in the window while she'd closed the shutters in the middle of the night? The idea made her shudder. “I must not have tied it properly,” she said. “I didn't think what would happen if the wind came up.”

Massimo gave her a sideways look. He knew she was good with knots. “Somebody went through the equipment in mine, too. Nothing was taken, but I brought everything back to the Pescheria.”

Maria bit her lip, wondering what Giancarlo had been looking for.

“That'll be a very wet and disappointed thief in this weather,” was Helena's only observation.

Maria was terrified that one or the other of them would realize she was hiding something and demand more information, but neither did. Once breakfast was over, Massimo went downstairs to go through the shop, sorting yesterday's catch into what was still fresh enough to sell and what would have to be turned into fertilizer. Maria would have offered to help, but she would have had to take Alberto with her, and the Pescheria would be full of water and ice. Instead, she helped Helena clean up the plates and cups.

“When are you due?” Maria asked the other woman.

“Six weeks,” Helena replied, running an affectionate hand over her belly. “It can't come soon enough, honestly. I'm getting so tired of hauling this extra weight around.”

Alberto chose that moment to tug on Maria's skirt, and she scooped him up and poked the end of his nose with her finger. “You really think that ends when they're born?”

“I guess not!” Helena said with a laugh, “but at least you can switch arms when one gets tired!”

The weather remained windy and grey, but the rain petered out by lunchtime, and Helena and Maria were able to go for their shopping trip. Even after promising to pay it back, Maria didn't want Helena to spend too much money on her, so she chose their first stop: a place that sold second-hand clothing and furniture, halfway up the hill. The break in the weather meant that more people were outside now, hoping to get a few tasks done before it started again.

“Hello, Maria!” Concetta Aragosta called out, as she and her friend Pinuccia passed. “Ottavia Brugnole said you were back.”

“That I am,” Maria replied, a bit puzzled by the greeting. The Aragosta ladies mostly kept to themselves, and didn't seem to be related to anybody else in town as far as Maria knew. They'd never spoken to her before.

Then again, after Signora Brugnole had been the first person to see her back, it was probably the talk of the town: Maria Marcovaldo returns, dressed in rags and carrying a toddler. Maria hadn't thought about that. She'd been so worried about what Massimo would think of her reappearance that it hadn't occurred to her to wonder what other people might say, any more than it had what she would say to them. Were they picturing her as fallen woman, wandering the world in rags with some stranger's bastard on her back?

But Concetta and Pinuccia did not look scandalized or even unhappy. They were smiling kindly as they came closer, and Alberto, who was alert and looking around in Maria's arms at all these new things, greeted them with the same wide eyes as he had every other stranger.

“Hello, there, little fellow!” Pinuccia said, wiggling her fingers at him in a wave. “Has your mummy got you out and about today?”

“Will his father be joining you?” Concetta wanted to know, although she sounded dubious.

Maria shook her head. “His father is... no longer with us.” It was so much harder to lie to somebody's face than it had been to do so to Helena's back last night.

“I'm so sorry,” said Pinuccia.

“If you need any help with the baby, you can always come and ask us,” Concetta added. “I promise, we know all about unusual children.” She winked.

Maria stared at her. What did she mean, unusual children? Did she know? How was that possible? She held Alberto a little tighter, making him squirm.

“We'll see you around and about, we're sure,” said Concetta.

“Arrivederci,” Pinuccia agreed, and the two of them puttered off.

Helena watched them go with a puzzled expression. “Do you know them very well?” she asked Maria.

“No,” Maria replied, just as confused as her new sister-in-law. “I think that's the first time I've ever spoken to them. I was right about Signora Brugnole, though,” she added. “She told everybody.”

“She certainly did,” Helena nodded. “We'll be hearing all kinds of theories about where you've been, I'm sure.”

When they walked into the second-hand shop, the woman behind the counter turned to her teenage son, who was assisting her, and said in a low voice, “that's her. That's Maria Marcovaldo.” Then she flashed a bright smile and approached the two women. “Welcome, Signora Marcovaldo,” she said in a much louder voice. “And welcome back, Signorina Marcovaldo – I'd heard you were back in town.”

Maria hadn't been addressed as Signorina Marcovaldo since she'd left home, and she wasn't sure now whether it was a good idea to start again. She didn't particularly want to use Giancarlo's surname, but being miss while carrying a small child would only make her a pariah. So she said, “it's Signora Scorfano.”

“Oh, so sorry,” said the woman, her smile not faltering a moment. “Signora Scorfano. I expect you need something to wear, and something for your boy, as well.”

It really was that obvious, wasn't it? “Yes, please.”

Alberto was the most important thing, so Maria went to the children's section first. She found him a lovely little set of rust-coloured overalls with sailboat on the front, and a yellow shirt to go with them. This was far more clothing than Alberto was used to, and he squirmed and complained as she put it on him in the changing room. As soon as she had the last button done, he escaped his mother's arms and went running out into the shop again.

Maria ran after and scooped him up, and Helena laughed at the sight.

“You come back here, you little scamp!” said Maria with a laugh. She gave Alberto a kiss on each cheek as he continued to wriggle. “Look at you, you look so handsome!”

“Doesn't he just?” Helena agreed with a grin.

“We'll take this set,” Maria told the shopkeeper. “Let me find a few more.”

She chose a couple more little outfits for Alberto, and then two inexpensive dresses for herself. Both of these would have to be let down before she could wear them, but that would give her something to do for the afternoon, at least. They paid the shopkeeper, and then Helena insisted on treating Maria to lunch at the trattoria on the Piazza. The sun was starting to come out now, glinting on the puddles and sparkling in the spray from the fountain. Fishermen were mopping rainwater off the decks of their boats before heading out to make up for lost time.

“Massimo will want us to hurry,” Helena observed. “He'll have work to do. So many of the men in Genova have office jobs nowadays, I always just assumed I'd marry a man who'd be doing that. A fisherman's schedule is so different.”

“Is that a good thing, or bad?” Maria asked.

“Oh, it's good,” said Helena. “On a rainy day in Genova, everybody goes to work like normal. On a rainy day here, we get to linger over breakfast and spend a little more time together. I still get to have a routine, but instead of just one, I have several, and it's a surprise in the morning which one I'll need to follow today. Now that I've lived here a while, I think trying to live in the city again would bore me to tears.” She'd been watching pigeons peck at crumbs under a neighbouring table, but now she looked at Maria with a smile. “Your husband was a diver. I imagine that was very unpredictable.”

“Yes,” Maria said. “We moved around a lot as he looked for work. Until Alberto came along, of course. Then we had to settle down.”

“Where were you living?” Helena inquried.

Maria hadn't thought of an answer to that. They'd been on that awful little island since about three months before Alberto was born. She wasn't about to tell anyone the truth. For one thing, it might lead them to Giancarlo, but for another, and perhaps more importantly, she was rather ashamed of it. The island had seemed like a good place to stay while they sorted the situation out, but then they'd somehow just never left. It hadn't been a very nice place to live, certainly no place to raise a child, but they hadn't known what else to do. Why hadn't she left months ago?

“We were in Montpellier when Giancarlo died,” Maria decided. They had stopped in that city, so she'd be able to answer questions about it if anyone asked. “I came back as fast as I could, but I didn't have much money.”

“I'm glad you made it,” said Helena. “It'll be okay now, I promise.” She smiled gently. “Massimo is so happy you're home. I honestly thought he might cry about it.”

Maria felt her chest tighten. That was why she'd stayed so long – because she'd had nowhere to go but Portorosso, and she'd thought Massimo would be angry with her. If she'd only known.

As she and Helena stepped outside again, Maria saw that the two Aragosta ladies were sitting on the edge of the fountain, enjoying some gelato. One of them smiled and waved, but Maria did not respond, still put off by their earlier conversation. Alberto, however, wriggled out of her arms, and before she could stop him he took off across the open space towards the two old women.

And towards the fountain full of water. Maria ran after him.

“Alberto!” she called out. “Alberto, come back here right now!”

Concetta Aragosta handed her ice cream to her partner and held out her arms to pick the boy up. That wasn't reassuring to Maria, who didn't want strangers handling her child. She'd almost caught up, only to see the woman grab for Alberto and miss. He hadn't been heading for her at all; he'd been running for the water, and now he toppled over the edge of the fountain and into the basin with a splash.

Maria shrieked in dismay, and then cried out, “no!” as Concetta Aragosta stood up and pulled the transformed baby out of the water. Immediately, Maria snatched him away and began drying him on her shawl in a panic. This could not be happening. There were so many people here! Not just the two old ladies and Helena right behind her, but a dozen others in the surrounding shops and businesses who might now see the little fishy creature in Maria's arms. Concetta and Pinuccia crowded close, perhaps for a better look, and Maria hunched as if to curl protectively around her son. It was too late. Much too late.

“Is he okay?” asked Helena, coming up next to Maria.

Maria swallowed hard, trying not to burst into tears. What were they going to say? They'd think she was worse than a fallen woman, that she was raising some monster...

“There we go,” said Concetta softly, rubbing Alberto's face dry on her apron. “There we go, all human!”

Maria blinked her tears away and stared at the old lady, uncomprehending. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing, dear,” Concetta said. She took a step back, and Maria clutched Alberto closer, shifting his weight as his tail vanished again. “We told you we knew about unusual children, didn't we?”

“We'll see you again soon,” Pinuccia said. She gave her friend her gelato cone back, and the two of them started back up the hill towards their home.

That left Maria standing there watching in confusion as they vanished around a corner – and Helena standing there looking at Maria with a similarly befuddled expression.

“What was that?” asked Helena.

Maria licked her lips as she tried to decide what to say. Her sister-in-law didn't look frightened, at least... maybe because the two old women had been so calm about it. She just looked confused.

“What did you see?” Maria wanted to know.

“I'm not sure,” Helena replied, coming closer to examine Alberto. There was nothing outwardly odd about him now, just a toddler squirming because his mother was holding him too tight. “I... is he your son?”

“Of course he is!” Maria huffed. “You have to promise not to tell Massimo!”

“I don't even know what I'd be telling him!” Helena protested. Her eyes went to something behind Maria.

Maria turned to see what she was looking at, and found that Massimo was waving to them from the Pescheria door. Maria waved back with what she hoped was a normal-looking smile, although she had her doubts. Massimo pointed to his boat, and Maria nodded.

“We have to go back to the Pescheria,” said Helena. “Somebody needs to mind the shop.”

“Of course,” said Maria. The Pescheria would be a relatively private place where she could... she didn't know what she was going to do. Somehow she must reassure Helena that this wasn't a problem, and then she had to be sure Massimo wouldn't find out.

They returned to the building, and stood in the doorway to watch Massimo start the engine on his boat and putter out to sea. Helena then went straight to the cash register to deal with their first customer, a woman hoping to purchase some squid for calamari. Maria waited in a corner with Alberto in her arms. He whined because he didn't know what he'd done to make her upset, so Maria stroked his curls and murmured reassurances, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“You scared Mamma so bad,” she whispered, “and I think you scared Auntie Helena too... but the two Signore Aragosta, they didn't mind.” She would have to talk to them. What did they know? Was it obvious to them in some way that Alberto wasn't fully human? Was there something she hadn't even noticed before that Maria was now going to have to worry about hiding?

Finally the customer left, and Helena came out to speak to Maria. Maria swallowed hard, wondering what in the world she was going to say. Would she throw her out, saying she didn't want a freak like that in her home?

“Is he all right?” Helena asked. “I mean...”

Maria sighed and set Alberto on the floor. There were plenty of puddles and ice he could get into here, but it hardly mattered when Helena had already seen. “He's fine. He's...” how could she explain, without making the situation look even worse? “What has Massimo told you about the sea monsters?”

Helena frowned in confusion and watched Alberto sit down on the floor to pick up a dropped coin. To her, the question must have seemed like something out of nowhere. “He said he first saw one the same summer you left. He tried several times to catch it, but it always got away. He said you and your boyfriend laughed at him when he talked about it...” her voice trailed off.

Maria winced at the memory. She hadn't realized in the moment that Massimo would be hurt by that. Her first instinct had been to protect Giancarlo. That whole summer they'd been terrified that Massimo might find out what Giancarlo was, especially when he kept saying how determined he was to catch the creature and mount it on the wall. Maria had feared he was hinting he already knew, and all her secret-keeping was for nothing.

Helena was still waiting for an explanation. For a split second longer, Maria thought about just making something up, but she knew that nothing she came up with would seem believable, even if it were still more plausible than the truth. Especially when she had already insisted that yes, Alberto was her son. She couldn't have denied that, even if it would help her story. She didn't have it in her.

“Giancarlo was the sea monster,” said Maria. “They transform when they get out of the water, and change back when they get wet again. I know it sounds like a fairy tale...”

With the coin still clutched in his hand, Alberto had wandered over to gaze at a basket of crabs. The crustaceans' claws had rubber bands wrapped around them so they couldn't pinch, but that didn't mean it was a good idea for Alberto to try to touch them. Maria went and ushered him away again. He stepped in a puddle on the way, and his bare foot transformed again.

“So he'll do that every time he gets wet?” Helena asked.

Maria nodded. “You see why you can't tell Massimo, right?”

“We have to,” said Helena. “He needs to know.”

“No, he doesn't!” Maria insisted. “You can't. If he finds out...”

“He would never hurt your child!” said Helena. “No matter what.”

“What if he doesn't believe that Alberto is my child?” Maria asked. “You didn't! He's told everybody in town he was going to kill that sea monster. He'd never let one live in his house.” She shuddered to think about it.

“It's your son,” Helena said. “He'll understand.”

Somebody cleared their throat, and both women turned to see a man standing in the shop doorway. Maria went cold. How much had he heard?

“Sorry to interrupt, Signora Marcovaldo,” the man said to Helena, “but my wife sent me to see if you have any large shrimp.”

“Of course!” said Helena, hurrying to find them. “Here we go! They're yesterday's, but they lived through the night just fine. Will these do?” she offered a basket.

The man studied them critically while Maria backed towards the inside door with Alberto in her arms. Some haggling followed, and she slipped through and shut the door softly behind her, then sat down on the stairs with her face in her hands.

“Ma?” Alberto asked.

“Sorry, Berto,” she replied. “It's not your fault. I want you to know that. None of this is your fault. It's all your father's and mine.”

The voices outside eventually ceased, and Helena cracked the door open.

“I don't think he heard anything,” she said to Maria. “He didn't ask any questions.”

Maria nodded. “You've got to promise,” she repeated.

“Massimo will find out anyway,” Helena said. “You can't keep children from getting into things. Alberto has been into everything from the moment he arrived.”

“Then I'll have to watch him better,” said Maria. Her son was used to being allowed to run around wherever he liked on the island, and was quite happy in or out of the water. It was going to be a very different life he would have to get used to here in town. Perhaps she should have waited until he was old enough to understand why they would have to hide what he was... but no, Maria couldn't have lasted that long, and neither could Alberto. He needed other children. He needed a life Giancarlo wasn't willing to give him.

“Maria,” Helena began.

“No. I need you to promise, because if you don't...” she swallowed. “Then I'm going to have to leave.”

Helena sighed, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, but she nodded. “I promise. I won't tell Massimo myself, but I know he's going to find out one way or another. He doesn't miss much.”

“He missed Giancarlo,” said Maria.

“I don't know if I'd be sure of that,” Helena said.

Maria shuddered. “I just... I can't make this more complicated. I feel like I'm going mad as it is.”

“I won't tell,” said Helena, “but I think you should.”

That would have to do for now, Maria decided.

Massimo came back that night with a catch that needed to be sorted and packed in ice for tomorrow. Maria had spent the afternoon washing and re-hemming her new clothes, and had allowed Helena to trim her hair, so she was looking far more civilized by the time her brother came upstairs to eat the fish stew his wife had made them for supper.

“It must have been a productive afternoon. You certainly smell like fish,” said Helena, going to kiss him. She then winced and took a step back, a hand on her belly. “The little one's excited to see Papá!”

Massimo closed the distance between them and kissed his wife's cheek, then bent down to kiss her swollen abdomen. That done, he looked to his sister. “Your shopping trip went well?” he asked.

“Yes, it did,” said Maria. She was finishing up sewing a button on one of the shirts she'd bought for Alberto, who was napping beside her. “He doesn't like his new clothes very much, but he'll get used to them.”

“He needs shoes,” Massimo observed.

“He does,” Maria agreed. “He's never had any.” Alberto would probably hate them, but Maria wouldn't have to worry about him stepping in puddles.

“Good catch?” asked Helena.

“Yes,” Massimo replied. “There'll be deliveries to do tomorrow, so I may not be able to go out again until late.”

“I can do them,” Maria volunteered. “I need something to do besides sit around the house. That would drive me crazy.”

“What about Alberto?” asked Massimo.

“I can watch him in the shop,” Helena suggested. She caught Maria's eye, and Maria nodded. Now that Helena knew, it was safe to leave Alberto alone in her care... Maria hadn't thought of that.

They ate their supper. Helena apologized, saying that she wasn't as much of a cook as Massimo, but it tasted just fine to Maria. She was a decent cook herself, though she hadn't been able to do much with some of the things Giancarlo had brought her, the seaweed and shellfish and random things that lived in the mud. He'd cooked them himself sometimes, but had said he didn't remember most of the recipes his own mother had tried to teach him. Having real food again felt like a royal feast.

“I can do the cooking on the night's Massimo can't,” Maria suggested. “Especially once the baby is born.”

“You don't need to earn your keep,” said Massimo.

“I'm not trying to earn my keep,” Maria told him. “If I'm going to be part of this household, then it's only fair I should contribute to it. You want to help me, I want to help you.”

After the meal, Helena collected the dishes to wash, and Massimo went downstairs to make sure everything was locked up and properly stored. Maria, meanwhile, scooped up Alberto, who'd managed to get stew all over his new clothes just as he'd doused himself in trenette al pesto the previous night.

“You like your aunt and uncle's cooking, don't you?” she asked. “If the mess you make is any measure, then you thought Auntie Helena's stew was delicious!”

“It's good to have a fan,” laughed Helena.

“Come on, bambino,” said Maria. “I think tonight you're going to need a proper bath.” She looked over her shoulder at Helena and saw her nod – Helena would keep Massimo from bothering them, and Alberto could splash in safety.

As she climbed the stairs, Maria though of that old saying about how one person could keep a secret, but once a second person knew, it wasn't a secret anymore. Here, that was not true. Helena knowing and being willing to help would actually make things much easier in several ways. Was it too much to hope for that the two Aragosta women would be the same?

She would have to deal with that tomorrow.

#pixar luca #fanfiction #alberto scorfano #massimo marcovaldo #maria scorfano #alternate universe #homecoming #i apologize to anyone who dies of cute from the illustrations

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ironychan · 2 months

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A Little Human (as a Treat)

Part 1/15 - Un Voluntario

Part 2/15 - Un Escursione

Part 3/15 - Una Complicazione

Part 4/15 - Una Famiglia

Part 5/15 - Una Aiutante

Part 6/15 - Una Ricerca

Part 7/15 - Un Confronto

Part 8/15 - Un'Emergenza

Part 9/15 - Una Speranza

Part 10/15 - Una Sera

Part 11/15 - Un'Interruzione

Part 12/15 - Una Fuga (Prima Parte)

Part 13/15 - Una Fuga (Seconda Parte)

Part 14/15 - Una Conseguenza

Part 15/15 - Un Finale

@dysphoria-sweatshirt @writer652 Last chapter! Final word count 76000

There were no clocks under the sea, so Ciccio had no idea what time it was when he woke up. The sun was well up, casting dancing lights through the window and onto the walls and floor of the room where Marco and Vin slept. The two narrow stone shelves covered with seaweed must have been their beds – Ciccio was on the floor in between, on a mat of sponges similar to the ones the Donzellas had given them. His skin was still a little loose on his arms but had mostly shrunk back into place, but his muscles were aching all over, and he was ravenously hungry.

He therefore tried to roll over and get up. The sponge mat came with him, stuck to the spines on his back.

Ciccio reached back to try to peel it off, but was not flexible enough, especially with his shoulders sore from the exertion last night. He was going to have to find somebody to help him, which would be embarrassing. Even more embarrassing, he discovered that somebody had gotten him into a pair of seagrass trousers to replace his ruined shorts. Whose were those? They couldn't belong to the farmhands, they were too skinny. Were they Signor Donzella's? Had they belonged to Arturo and Giordana's father?

He decided he didn't want to know.

Slowly and with gritted teeth, he made his way to the kitchen. Marco and Vin were probably already out doing farm work, but the Trota family were there, cleaning up after breakfast. Ercole must have been goaded into helping, because he was handing shells and bowls to Signora Trota for her to scour out over the hot vent.

“Ha!” he exclaimed when he saw Ciccio. “Yesterday you looked like an hors d'oeuvre – today you're the main course, with your own pla...” at that moment he caught Giordana's baleful eye. She bared her teeth, and Ercole fell silent.

Signora Trota gave Ciccio a big smile. “Here's our hero,” she said cheerfully. “The whole community is talking about you, young man!” Without needing to be told, Arturo and Giordana came to get the sponge mat off Ciccio's spines, while their mother continued to speak. “After we came back here, Silvestro and Niccolò tracked the squid down and finished it off. We're talking about what to do with it now... we've considered eating it, but the Cormorano kids said they tried to eat the last one and found it tasted terrible.”

“There's a Museum of Natural History in Genova,” said Ciccio. “Maybe they'd want it.” He braced himself, expecting the removal of the mat to hurt a bit, but his loose skin meant his spines were not as securely anchored as they'd been the previous morning. The sensation of it stretching and bouncing back as the sponges came away was odd, but not particularly painful.

“What's that mean?” asked Arturo. “Storia naturale?”

“It's a place where they've got all kinds of things from nature for people to look at,” Ciccio explained. He muttered a thanks as Giordana took the mat away, and pulled himself over to the table with his arms because those were less sore than his tail. “Animal skins and skeletons, and fossils, and stuff like that. They don't have a giant squid, or even a really big one... at least, they didn't when I went there on a school trip.” That had been several years ago.

“Oh, that sounds neat!” said Arturo, and turned to his mother, opening his mouth to ask if he could go... then he remembered how upset she'd been last night, and changed his mind.

“Is there any more food?” Ciccio asked. His stomach was gurgling insistently.

“Of course there is. We saved some fore you,” Atinnia assured him. She brought over a few dishes and shells full of whatever sea monsters ate for breakfast – Ciccio couldn't identify any of it, but he didn't care. He was so hungry he tucked right in. Some of the textures were weird, but he didn't let it bother him.

It did make him think of something, though. “Have you eaten anything?” he asked Ercole through a mouthful.

“A little,” Ercole replied. “I know better now than to ask what it is.”

Arturo snickered. “It was shark's eggs.”

“I told you not to tell me!” said Ercole.

“Buongiorno!” somebody called from outside.

“Oh! Good morning, Chiara!” Signora Trota replied, going to greet their guest. “Excellent timing, he's up and eating. I called Signora Zigrino,” she explained to Ciccio. “She's our local erborista and all-around wisewoman. She's got some advice for you.”

Signora Zigrino was yellow-green in colour, with a mottled pattern down her back and fins that were starting to fade to white with age. She set a basket of various herbs and shells on the table.

“Francesco, isn't it?” she said to Ciccio. “Atinnia's told me about you. You're new at this, like Luca's friend Giulia, is that right?”

“Sort of,” said Ciccio. He yawned, then realized he still had food in his mouth. Ercole was looking at him with a revolted expression. “Sorry.”

“Don't apologize,” Signora Zigrino said. She took a shell full of green goo out of her basket. “Puffing is very hard on the body – I remember Atinnia's friend. Marina was her name, I think...” she looked at Signora Zigrino, who nodded. “She would be tired for days after doing that. Even the little fish, afterwards you can see how hard it was on them. Sit still, please.”

Ciccio took another big bite of his breakfast and then tried to sit there quietly as she scooped the green goo out of the shell – it was stiff and jellyish, like panna cotta – and then mushed it up in her hands before slathering it over his back. “This will help the skin firm up again,” she explained, carefully massaging it in between the spines. “I can give you the recipe. It's a good idea to use it every couple of weeks or so, even if you haven't puffed, because it'll help you unpuff without getting all saggy.”

He glanced at his right arm, and the bit of extra skin hanging loose beneath it. “Thank you,” Ciccio said, “but I'm not planning on doing that ever again.” He wasn't sure, at this point, that he ever even wanted to see the ocean again.

“Never say never,” said Signora Zigrino. “You don't know what the future holds.”

“You really don't,” Giordana agreed. She was looking at him adoringly, and Ciccio couldn't help a smile. Okay, maybe he would do this again someday. If Giordana wanted him to, and if Flavia had enough fun that she wanted to do it again. Although, that left the problem of Signora Trota...

Atinnia herself chose that moment to offer Ciccio another plate of roe. “Here. Chiara told me you'll need your protein.”

“Grazie a mille,” said Ciccio, who still felt famished.

Giordana, across from her, must've been thinking similar thoughts about her mother, because her smile melted away as she spoke again. “Well,” she said. “I guess you're going home this morning.”

“Yeah,” said Ciccio, mouth full of roe.

“I dunno when I'm gonna be able to visit again,” she added, with a sideways look at her mother.

“I'll miss you,” Ciccio told her.

“I'll miss you more.” Giordana took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

Arturo rolled his eyes and reached to take a few fish eggs from Ciccio's plate. His mother slapped his wrist, then turned her attention to the teenagers.

“There's no need for you children to be so dramatic,” she said. “I'm not going to make you sit at home and pine for each other.”

“You aren't?” Ciccio and Giordana asked, in startled unison.

Atinnia looked a bit embarrassed. “Goodness, don't be so surprised! I am upset with Giordana for lying to me, and she's going to be doing some extra chores as punishment, but I don't intend to be an ogre about it. I quite like Francesco and his father, and now that I'm over the initial shock, I think I can deal with the rest.”

“Does that mean you'll come up on land again and try the cinnamon buns?” Arturo asked eagerly.

“Not necessarily!” his mother replied. “Although... it didn't look so bad up there from what I saw. I'm not going to forbid either of you from going, either, although I intend to lay down a few more rules. For starters,” she met Giordana's eyes, “I will want to know exactly where you're going and what you'll be doing there, so if I want to find you later I don't panic and search the bay in the fear you've been eaten by a shark. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mom,” said Giordana dutifully, but she was having a hard time suppressing a smile.

“I'll make sure she tells you everything,” Ciccio said.

Giordana waited until her mother had turned her back, then let out a little squeal and hugged Ciccio's arm. He beamed back at her, already trying to think of what they could do on their next date. What would Giordana's mother think of a movie, or a football game in Genova? Probably not the latter... she'd think that was too far away. Although, if they could find somebody to take her and Arturo to the Museum of Natural History, that might work.

Ciccio would have loved a cup of espresso, but such things were not available underwater. With the edge finally taken off his hunger, his eyes were threatening to drift shut again when he heard a call from somebody else at the door. This time it was Arturo who answered it, as his mother and Signora Zigrino were busy gossiping. He swam off, and returned a minute or so later with Alberto and Luca.

“Hi!” said Luca. “Are you feeling better?”

“No, not at all,” grumbled Ercole.

“We weren't talking to you,” Alberto informed him, and looked at Ciccio.

“Much better,” Ciccio replied, “yeah, thanks.”

“I've given him some advice,” Signora Zigrino assured them.

Luca nodded. “Flavia's waiting for you,” he told Ciccio. “You can come on up as soon as you're done eating.”

For some reason the first thing that made Ciccio think of was more food. His father's focaccia with olives and herbs, warm from the oven with butter melting over it... that would be heavenly. Hot coffee would be lovely, too, with foam on the top and maybe a little bit of chocolate. Who would have thought that the thing he'd miss most about land was the food?

At least his sore muscles were getting better. Ciccio had been worried about whether he'd even be able to swim back to shore that morning, but it seemed like it would be okay now. He ate every crumb of what Signora Trota had given him, and then the entire group set out for the surface. On the way, Ciccio asked Alberto, “how's your cousin? It sounded like she didn't have a great day.” Even if Ciccio might want to do this again, that would hardly matter if Flavia refused.

“She's fine,” said Alberto.

“It was more good than bad,” Luca agreed. “Although I'm not sure we can ever go back to San Giuseppe again... the people there got kind of upset about us being sea monsters. How are you? Did you have fun, other than the squid?”

“It would have been more fun without Ercole,” said Ciccio.

Ercole snorted. “Are we just going to chit-chat all the way to shore?” he asked. “Or are we going to talk about how we change me back?”

Luca grimaced. “We did look at the spell again in case we missed something,” he said, “but it didn't say anything about other people getting, um... you know, caught in it, I guess.”

“I was hoping last night that he'd just change back when I do,” said Ciccio.

“If he doesn't, I guess we'll have to go back to the Library of the Deep and ask about it,” Luca decided. “Maybe Flavia will want to come this time. The Librarian is nice.”

The water got shallower as they passed over the fields and pastures, and soon they could make out the entrance to the harbour through the sunlit waters ahead. That was where Ercole stopped.

“Wait,” he said. “You're not expecting me to just walk out of the ocean in front of everybody in town, are you?”

Ciccio groaned, having forgotten about that. “Right. Go back to the other bay, and we'll come get you after.”

“Go back to the other bay, he says, as if I've been finding my way underwater every day of my life!” Ercole shook his head. “What if I get lost?”

“You won't,” said Ciccio, who didn't feel like adding anything to that.

“You can't,” Luca said. “Sea monsters can't get lost. I mean... you've been there before, right? So you know where it is if you think about it.”

Ercole frowned, then blinked in surprise.

“Is he right?” asked Alberto.

Since the only alternative was admitting that yes, Luca was correct, Ercole just turned and swam away. He was going in the right direction.

Plenty of people were waiting for them when they reached the beach. There was Giulia and Massimo, Flavia and her father, and Signor Ottonello and Guido, but also plenty of others. Many of these were people from around Portorosso who were interested in the goings-on, but there was also a small group who were total strangers to Ciccio. One was a plump old man with a bushy moustache and several tattoos. Another was a lady with long silver hair, a younger man who looked enough like her to probably be her son, and a little girl with her hair in plaits. When the sea monsters emerged from the water, the older lady gasped and her son wobbled as if he might fall over, but the girl jumped up and down in place, squealing for joy.

“Look at them all!” she said. “Papà! Nonna! Look!”

“I'm looking, dear, I'm looking,” said the older lady, a hand on her chest.

Flavia had been sitting on the steps. Now she ran and got the girl with the braids and led her down to the beach. “This is Ciccio!” she said. “That's his girlfriend Giordana, and her brother Arturo, and that's their mom, Signora Trota. Everybody, this is Perla! I met her in San Giuseppe, and she loaned me her clothes when mine got wet.”

She looked so happy that Ciccio had to smile. So Flavia really did have a good day, at least enough to offset getting lost.

“Wow! They're...” Perla began, then stopped to watch in awe as the sea monsters began transforming. “Oh, that is so cool!” She turned and grabbed Flavia's hands. “I can't wait to see you!”

“How do we switch back?” Flavia asked Luca.

“It's the same as last time,” Luca said. “We don't need to do the other parts of the ritual again. You both stand in the sea and put your palms together, and then you're probably gonna get splashed again.” The spell hadn't said anything about that, but it hadn't said they'd get a big wave the first time, either. “And if you ever want to swap again, you just meet up and do it.”

Flavia nodded and pulled her shoes and socks off. Ciccio was standing in water to his waist, still embarrassed that all he was wearing was a pair of seagrass shorts. That was a little too deep for Flavia, though, so he waded further in to a point where they might not both get sucked under. He held up his hands. Flavia put her palms against his, and they both waited.

Yesterday morning, they'd observed that nothing seemed to be happening, only to immediately have the big wave splash over them both. Now Ciccio stood there, expecting the same thing at any moment, but it didn't seem to come. He looked down just to check, but he was still a sea monster, and Flavia was still human. She looked back up at him with worry on her face.

“What's taking so long?” Ciccio asked. He hoped that once again, drawing attention to it would signify that they'd waited long enough, but it didn't help.

“It doesn't work,” said Flavia. She looked down at her hands, then dunked them in the water in the hope that would do something. It did not.

“Let me get the pages! Maybe we missed something,” said Luca. He turned and ran back into the Pescheria.

Ciccio could only swallow hard and look at the people on the shore. His father was rubbing his forehead, exasperated, as if he'd known this would all go wrong, too, but hadn't liked to say anything. Leonardo Scorfano, who'd been sitting on the stairs, had gotten up and taken a few steps forward, ready to run to Flavia if she needed him. And Flavia herself, she looked like she was going to cry.

Was this Ciccio's fault? Was this happening because he'd stuck Ercole, and now...

“Oh,” he said out loud. “Wait a moment, I know what's missing.” There wasn't any real logical reason why – he just knew in his gut. “I'll be right back.” He waded out into deeper water, and vanished beneath it.

That left everybody else standing around wondering where he thought he was going, but not really able to do anything about it. Flavia stuck her hands under her arms to warm them, as it was early and the water seemed very much colder than it ever had before, and hung her head. She thought of looking in the mirror in Signora Pepitone's bathroom and thinking how the reflection didn't look like her. Was this it? Was she going to be stuck looking at it for the rest of her life? Was she being punished for wanting something she wasn't supposed to have?

The water swished as somebody came closer, and she looked up to see Papa Leo coming to put his arms around her. “It's okay, Angelfish,” he said, stroking her hair. “Whatever happens, we'll make it work, all right?”

Flavia nodded and hugged him. He'd been right – no matter how much fun she'd had yesterday, today she just really wanted to go home.

Luca returned a minute or so later with his handful of papers, and he, Alberto, and Giulia gathered around to pore over them, trying to figure out what they'd missed. It was only after a few seconds of that when Luca looked up and asked, “hey, where'd Ciccio go?”

“He said he knew what was missing, and he left,” said Guido.

“Come on, Angelfish,” said Papa Leo, putting an arm around Flavia's shoulders. “You'll freeze out here.”

Flavia stayed where she was. If she went back to shore it was like she was giving up, and...

“There he is!” exclaimed Giulia.

Flavia turned. Ciccio's head had appeared above the water again, smiling. He waved to everybody, but then he groaned and ducked back under. A few bubbles came up.

“What's going on?” asked Ottonello.

Giulia shrugged, but then her eyebrows rose and she began to giggle. “Oh, no,” she said softly, but she wasn't upset. She looked at Alberto with a big smile on her face, and he nodded and started to snicker, too.

“It's okay! They just need another person!” he told Ottonello.

It seemed to take quite a long time, while Flavia stood there shivering in the water with her father beside her, but Ciccio finally reappeared. He stood up and came closer, dragging a second, scowling sea monster behind him. This individual was taller than Ciccio, with over-long limbs and big hands and feet, and a set of barbels at the end of his bulbous snout. Flavia did not recognize him, but everybody else did.

More people from the town had drifted in to see what was going on, including quite a few who hadn't heard about yesterday morning but had learned later from town gossip that the sea monster kids had performed a magical spell. A lot of them were children – meaning there was a wide assortment of Ercole's previous victims present to see what had happened to him. There were muffled sniggers, whispers, and quickly-suppressed barks of laughter as Ciccio led him over to Flavia.

Giulia did her best to keep a lid on herself, but Alberto grinned openly and exchanged knowing looks with Guido, who was almost choking on the effort of holding it in. Even Concetta and Pinuccia Aragosta, known around town for being dour, were smilig to themselves.

“Here,” said Ciccio. He and Flavia put their hands together, and each then also joined hands with Ercole. “I think it'll work this t...”

He was cut off by the giant wave that rose out of nowhere to soak them. Ercole squawked in surprise and terror as it sucked him under, but both Ciccio and Flavia were prepared and managed to stay standing, though not for long. Both of them found their balance suddenly changed. Flavia sat down hard on her backside, while Ciccio toppled over on top of her.

However, this time it definitely did work. Ciccio scrambled off Flavia and stood there blinking with his wet blond curls falling in his eyes, until Flavia accidentally smacked him in the face with her tail as she got to her feet, yellow scales glittering in the sunlight.

“Flavia!” Leonardo dunked under the water himself and came up to give her another hug. “Good to have you back, Angelfish!”

“I love you, Papa Leo!” she replied, squeezing him tight.

Giordana, Guido, and Signor Ottonello came to help Ciccio up. He was still wearing only sea grass trousers and looked even more embarrassed about it, hanging on to the waist to make sure they stayed in place as he got to his feet. His father hugged him first, and then Giordana threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

“I like you better this way,” she told him.

“You do?” Ciccio asked. He'd been slightly worried, though he hadn't wanted to admit it, that she would prefer him as a sea monster.

“Yes!” she said, hugging him again. “You're much less prickly.”

Ercole came up sputtering, and pulled seaweed out of his hair as he stood. Nobody came running to greet him, and he clearly wouldn't have wanted anybody to. He felt his face and inspected his hands to make absolutely sure he was human, then rudely shoved his way between Ciccio and Giordana as he stomped back onto the beach and headed up the stairs.

There were more giggles from the watching crowd, but nobody said anything, and people moved out of the way as Ercole squelched across the piazza in his bare feet, head down so he wouldn't have to look anybody in the eye. Once he had vanished out of sight up the hill, Alberto burst out laughing again, whacking Luca and Giulia on their backs.

“That was amazing!” he wheezed. “Oh, man! Don't worry, nobody here will ever let him forget it. If only we'd gotten a picture!”

“I did think of that,” said Giulia, “but I doubt he would have stood still for it.” She was grinning, herself.

“I'm going to draw him as soon as we get home,” Alberto promised, “so I can remember this beautiful moment forever.”

That was when Perla could no longer contain herself. Her grandmother had been gripping her shoulders tight as they watched these events unfold, knuckles white and mouth hanging open. Now Perla wiggled free and ran down the steps to approach Flavia as she and Leonardo waded back to shore.

Flavia saw her coming, and stopped short, suddenly wanting to be shy. Perla had thought the idea of sea monsters were cool, but she'd only gotten a quick look at them. What if she thought Flavia was ugly or scary? Or worse, what if she would be like Flavia's cousins, who weren't interested in spending time with somebody who couldn't get out of the water? She'd made friends with Flavia on land, after all.

But Perla ran right up, beaming, and grabbed Flavia's hands. “This is what you really look like?” she asked eagerly.

“Yeah,” said Flavia cautiously. “What do you think?”

“You look so cool,” Perla said. “Yellow is my favourite colour!”

“Really?”

“It is now!” Perla proclaimed, and turned to wave to her father and grandmother, still on the pavement. “Look! Look! It's Flavia!”

“I”m looking, Perla,” said Roberto, shaking his head.

“Oh, my,” said Signora Pepitone. She struggled for words for a moment, then made a visible effort to say something positive. “That is a beautiful colour, isn't it?”

“Do you still want to be pen-pals?” asked Flavia.

“Of course!” Perla said. “I should have brought my swimsuit. I want to be able to tell everybody I went swimming with sea monsters!”

Giulia turned to her father. “Papà, do we still have my old one I outgrew? She could borrow that.”

“I think so,” said Massimo. “Let's look for it.”

Roberto Pepitone came down the steps with a hand out. “Now, Perla,” he said, “we don't know what the currents are like around here, and what's safe for sea monsters might not be for you.”

“Don't worry, Sir,” said Luca. “We'll look after her.”

“I'm the town lifeguard,” Alberto told him. “I'm an expert. Nobody drowns when there's a sea monster looking after them!”

Roberto looked a little worried for a moment, but then he saw Flavia and Perla's pleading eyes, and he relented. “I guess I can't say no, then!”

The girls cheered and hugged each other.

Meanwhile, Ottonello had brought his son some dry clothes, and Ciccio sloshed his way back to shore and took them indoors to get dressed. That left Ottonello alone not far from the Trota family, who were still watching from metre-deep water, Giordana and Arturo too scared of their mother's reaction to go in any shallower. After the previous night's arguments, it was a bit of an awkward situation, one nobody particularly wanted to address. Arturo pretended to be very interested in the clouds just because it gave him somewhere to look, while Giordana repeatedly sank back into the water to keep from transforming.

Finally, it was Atinnia Trota who said, “buongiorno, Vito. What a day yesterday was.”

“It certainly was,” Ottonello agreed. “I hope we don't have another one like it in a hurry.”

There was another long pause. Giordana dipped back under the water again and did not look at Signor Ottonello – Ciccio had told her about the unkind things his father had said. Arturo fidgeted.

“Well,” said Ottonello, “I don't suppose you'd like to have a cup of coffee and some focaccia, would you, Atinnia?”

Signora Trota squared her shoulders, and her children winced in expectation. But she said, “yes, I think I would.”

Giordana gasped in delight and squeezed her mother's arm. Arturo's mouth fell open for a moment, then he grinned. “Can I have cioccolata?” he asked eagerly.

“I'm sure I've got some,” Ottonello said. “Have a seat, I'll bring it out.”

“No,” said Atinnia. “No, I think we'll come in. After all, we're probably all going to be seeing a lot more of each other, aren't we?”

“Yes,” Signor Ottonello agreed. “I think we are.”

Three days later, Ercole was settling down with his mother's dogs to watch an afternoon football match on television. He hadn't been back to town since he'd returned from the ocean. Having been forced to walk out of the water and show himself to all of Portorosso as a sea monster, he doubted he was ever going to be able to look anybody in the face again.

“This is my life now,” he told the dogs, as he put his feet up and unwrapped the giant sandwich he intended to eat. “A pariah. A joke! You two are my only friends.”

There was a knock on the door.

“You hear that? Probably somebody here to make fun of me.” Ercole bit into his sandwich.

A few impatient moments later, there was another knock.

“Ercole, dear!” Signora Visconti called from the cellar. “Your father and I are in the middle of something. Can you get that, please?”

“I can't, Mamma!” he shouted back. “I am in exile, remember?” Signor Gammachio from the Ostello had sent his son by the other day to buy wine, and while there hadn't been any comments, Ercole was sure he'd heard snickers.

There was a third knock.

“Ercole!” Signor Visconti shouted. “Just answer the bloody door!”

With a groan, Ercole heaved himself off the sofa. He trudged to the door with the dogs following him, and opened it just a centimetre or so. With the chain still in place so the potential torment couldn't barge its way in, he put an eye up to the crack.

At first he saw nobody. Then he looked down, and found two smiling boys, nine or ten years old. The skinny one had curly hair, including one lock on the left side of his forehead that stood straight up in a cowlick, and was carrying a plate of fig cookies. The pudgy one had straight hair, and was holding a bowl of colourful spherical objects that resembled gumballs but looked far too much like the bugs Ercole had been offered by Signora Donzella. He did not recognize either child.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“We're here for the game,” said the skinny one.

“The game?” Ercole blinked, confused.

“You said if I taught you to swim, you'd let me and Arturo watch football at your house,” the pudgy one clarified.

“Oh,” said Ercole, as the situation became clear. “It's you, squaletto.”

“Aunt Concetta made us cookies,” Arturo said, holding up his plate.

“And I brought isopods!” Silvio agreed.

Ercole wanted to simply shut the door in their smug little faces. Why would he want to sit and watch his football game with a couple of snot-nosed, slimy sea monster children who'd spent a whole day torturing him and were now offering him a bowl of bugs?

For some reason, though, he didn't do that. Maybe it was because Silvio had been with him in that awful cave while the giant squid tried to pry Ciccio out of the doorway and get in. Maybe he was just lonely from his self-imposed isolation. Whatever the reason, he slid the chain out and opened the door to let them enter.

The boys marched inside with smiles on their faces, and settled themselves on the sofa. The dogs came to sniff them and seemed to decide they were acceptable guests. Ercole came and sat between them and scooped up his sandwich.

“You two need to be quiet,” he told them. “I want to be able to hear the announcer.”

“No problem,” said Arturo, taking a bite out of one of his cookies.

Silvio nodded and popped a couple of isopods in his mouth. “You wanna hear a joke?” he asked.

“Porca paletta! I do not!” said Ercole, remember the terrible puns Silvio had inflicted on him underwater.

“What position does the flying fish play on the football team?”

“What did I just say?”

“Wingback!” Silvio grinned.

Ercole turned the volume up on the television.

Silvio was not discouraged. “You know who's the goalie on the same team?”

“I do not,” said Ercole.

“The kipper!”

Silvio and Arturo both laughed helplessly. Ercole rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help a small snort. “Not bad, squaletto. Not bad.”

#pixar luca #luca 2021 #luca paguro #alberto scorfano #giulia marcovaldo #ercole visconti #fanfiction #a little human (as a treat)

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