"Did you know that you're late?" the tour guide, Antonio, said as he led her through the parking lot. The frown lines in his forehead were so deep it appeared as if he was scowling at her.
"It took a while for my bag to show up," Keira replied, still reeling from the fact her hopes of meeting Romeo had been dashed.
Antonio made Keira feel very uncomfortable in his company, and not just because of the round, hairy belly that protruded over his waistband. His attitude was harsh, like a school teacher she could already tell she'd never be able to please.
The air was very hot, almost oppressively so, but that didn't seem to slow him down. They hurried along, Antonio keeping a few paces ahead of Keira, who struggled to manage her cases. She was already becoming sticky with sweat.
"My back is bad," he said, as way of an explanation for not helping her.
As they walked, Antonio spoke, his words coming out in a huge, fast stream, his voice like a barking dog. Keira thought of her dream Romeo. Antonio could not be further from that!
"Twenty-one days, huh?" he said, striding ahead so that Keira had to skip to keep up.
Already, she was dreading them.
He led her to a car. Keira had been expecting something nice, but instead was confronted with a small, old, rusty-looking vehicle.
"This is it?" she asked.
"There's no room for the case in the back seats. Put it in the trunk," Antonio ordered.
Keira popped the trunk and found that the car was filled with shopping bags. As she rammed her bag in beside Antonio's groceries a waft of cheese stench emanated toward her. One of the bags fell open and some pecorino tumbled out. Keira put it back in, realizing with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and disgust that all the grocery bags were full of pecorino cheese. Was that all the man ate? she wondered. Then she realized, additionally, that the smell was probably going to leak into her case and permeate all of her clothes. She was going to smell of cheese for the next three weeks!
She grimaced and shut the trunk. As she did so Antonio started the car's engine, making a cloud of fumes sputter over her legs.
Furious, Keira climbed into the front seat beside him, discovering with horror that they were so close their knees were touching. She looked over at Antonio's clammy, hairy hands clutching the steering wheel. The smell inside was a combination of cheese, sweat, and humid air.
Before she'd even had a chance to get her seatbelt on, Antonio gunned it. The car lurched forward and she gripped the sides of her seat as he drove, so tight her knuckles turned white. Antonio drove like a maniac.
"So tell me, New York," Antonio said. "Bad place, huh? Lots of crime?"
Keira looked over at him, shocked. "No. I mean, not really. It has its problems, like all cities, but it's wonderful."
"Cold though, no?" Antonio pressed. To Keira he seemed to really be wanting to find the worst in her home city. "Like now it is cold. While we still bask in glorious sunshine." He laughed wheezily, showing off crooked yellow teeth.
"Have you ever been?" Keira asked, a little offended by his comments.
"No no no," Antonio replied, shaking his head as if the suggestion was ludicrous. "Never will I go to a godless city like that. Here we're good Catholics."
If Antonio had set out to rub Keira the wrong way he had certainly achieved his aim.
But if Antonio himself was a shock to the system, Naples was not what Keira was expecting either. The roads were very narrow, with terraced five-story apartment blocks towering up either side, with balconies made of rusting metal, clothes lines stretched between them covered in colorful linen that fluttered in the wind. There were next to no sidewalks, which meant people wandered into the road, often without looking, darting out from behind parked cars. Even the road signs and street lamps, Keira noted, were actually attached to the walls of the houses, since there wasn't even enough space for a pole.
None of these obstacles made Antonio drive any slower, however. He just cursed loudly in Italian every time someone stepped into his path, swerving, sometimes honking his horn.
"Che cavolo!" he exclaimed loudly, gesticulating at an old woman who'd just stepped in front of him.
Despite not knowing exactly what Antonio was saying, Keira could tell it was some kind of expletive and felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment and shame for the old woman on the receiving end of his rage. But the woman just gestured rudely at Antonio. Clearly she was used to such occurrences.
Vespas whizzed past them. Keira noticed that the walls were covered with graffiti. There was so much that people had started drawing over the graffiti that was already there!
Keira lost count of the amount of pizzerias they passed. Her stomach grumbled. It had been hours since her bland airplane dinner.
They turned a corner and zipped past a stall set up at the side of the road selling fish. The smell made Keira gag and completely lose her appetite.
"Watch out!" Keira cried, as Antonio careened toward a filthy, mangy cat sitting in the middle of the road.
Luckily it ran out of the way just in time.
"Strays," Antonio said, as if to explain why he hadn't even attempted to slow down. "Pests. We're infested with them."
The cobbled streets made the car bump up and down. It was an uncomfortable journey to say the least.
"You'll be able to see the mountain in a minute," Antonio said. "Vesuvius."
"Oh," Keira replied, almost alarmed at what she perceived to be his first attempt to make small talk.
"There," he said, suddenly, pointing to her left.
If the mountain had been visible it was only for a second, because Keira didn't manage to see a thing.
"You saw it?" Antonio asked, rather aggressively. "Did you?"
"I must have missed it," Keira mumbled in response. "We went by a little fast."
"Fast?" Antonio scoffed. "Fast? I'm driving the pace of a snail thanks to this idiota in front of me!" He threw his arms toward the red car ahead of them, which they were practically touching bumpers with, then honked his horn over and over and swore again loudly.
He swung the car sharply down another side road. This one was filled with bags of garbage. The walls were covered in graffiti and many of the cars appeared abandoned, covered in dust and bird droppings. Here, several of the metal balconies above them were rusted and half falling from the walls. Many of the potted plants upon them were dead.
Antonio laughed suddenly and pointed at a huge billboard hanging over the entrance to what appeared to be a parking lot.
"A sexy lady, huh?" he said. "Our Italian women are goddesses."
Keira squirmed even more. "Oh yes, they're very beautiful," she said.
"You looking at the trash?" Antonio said in his barking voice.
Keira guiltily turned her eyes away from the mountains of bags.
"It's a big problem," Antonio added. "Big problem. Here, they call it the Triangle of Death. All the waste causes cancer, birth defects, that sort of thing."
Keira grimaced.
"The system does not do anything about it," Antonio added.
"The system?" Keira asked.
"The mafia, you know?" Antonio added, again speaking in that way that made Keira feel like he thought she was a complete imbecile. "You will see them around. When there is a fight, they are there. They are the ones with the guns."
With every passing moment, Keira felt more terrible. Had Elliot been aware of the conditions of this city when he'd arranged the assignment? She knew she was only supposed to be passing through but it still seemed like an oversight. Surely Heather would have known about the crime and poor conditions-she was so organized Keira couldn't imagine such things evading her notice.
"Are there lots of fights around here?" Keira asked with trepidation.
"Sure, sure," Antonio said. "Lots of bars and unemployed young people. It is a poor city. Always fights."
Keira became increasingly worried about the time she'd be spending in the city.
"So, are we heading to the hotel now?" she asked.
"No time," Antonio replied brusquely. "I am your guide. I am supposed to guide you."
"Where are we going then?" Keira asked. She was exhausted and the uncomfortable interaction with Antonio coupled with her anxiety was making her even more tired.
"La Statua del Nilo," Antonio replied. "Amazing statue. Ancient."
He drove them at top speed through the narrow streets. Then suddenly he slammed on the brakes, making Keira jerk uncomfortably forward, the seat belt pressing painfully against her chest. She thunked back against the seat.
"There!" Antonio beamed.
Keira looked around her. The car was idling beside a stone plinth that was extremely weathered. Sitting atop was the statue, made of marble, depicting a man resting on his side, holding what appeared to be a bouquet of flowers.
"Amazing, huh?" Antonio pressed. "You do not get this in New York City! Culture! History!"
"Oh…um, sure…" Keira replied. "What is it?"
"The Nile God," Antonio informed her. "With his decapitated serpent. People cut the head off the statue many times. This is not the original head."
He seemed thoroughly amused by this fact. Keira, however, was not. It was an underwhelming attraction.
"Come on," Antonio added. "Let us go to the church now, huh?"
"Aren't you going to park the car?" Keira asked.
"It is parked," Antonio said nonchalantly, already getting out of the car.
Cautiously, Keira also stepped out and looked back at the car, which was abandoned in the middle of the small piazza, blocking the route for everyone.
The air was extremely hot, making her feel even more uncomfortable.
"You want to see places people fall in love," Antonio said. "Here. Church. The Santa Maria Assunta dei Pignatelli."
Keira looked at the somewhat unwelcoming gray facade. Crowded outside the church were many people smoking cigarettes, holding cans of beer. Keira coughed as the smoke filled her lungs.
"Here?" she asked, surprised.
"Yes, here," Antonio replied. "Also over here."
He gestured to a small road coming off the piazza which was completely filled with shadows. Keira followed him, feeling extremely uncomfortable. They stopped outside a building and Keira realized it was an Internet cafe.
"Is this a joke?" she asked, frowning at Antonio.
"No joke!" he replied defensively. "People come here to find lovers. It is true. Ask anyone."
He practically shoved her inside the pokey shop. Inside were lurid yellow walls and tables crowded with computers. Antonio spoke in fast Italian to a young man nearby, then looked at Keira.
"This boy is speaking to his lover. He will have an interview with you."
"What?" Keira asked, shocked.
"Get your pad," Antonio barked. "Come on. I have found you an interview."
Feeling unable to defy his orders, Keira pulled her notebook and pen from her purse.
"Well, I'm writing a piece about falling in love in Italy," she explained to the young man.
The man laughed then, though it was more like a hyena's cackle. Keira pursed her lips.
"Is something funny?"
"No, no," the boy said, looking amused and trying to wipe the grin from his face. "Ask your questions."
Keira took a deep breath. "So, tell me, have you found love here?" She gestured around her to the Internet cafe.
"Sort of," the boy said. "I found a girl I like. A date."
"Okay. And that was through the Internet? A message board, something like that?"
Internet dating wasn't the angle Keira had been expecting to take, but maybe there was something in it. Perhaps she could link the history of Italy with the new evolving technologies younger people used to find love. Maybe there was a way she could link the piazza outside the church, which had once been a meeting ground for lovers, with its proximity to the Internet cafe.
But then the boy spoke and dashed her plans.
"I am only here because my phone was stolen. We met through one of those apps. You know. Swipe left. Swipe right." He grinned cheekily.
Keira deflated. Dating apps weren't exactly Italy specific. There still might be something to her story though. Maybe the Italian youths embraced those kinds of technologies in different ways from their American counterparts.
"So, do you think it's love?" Keira asked. "With this girl you met on the app?"
"Of course," he said. "She is beautiful. It is always love when you meet a girl that pretty."
"There are lots of pretty girls," Keira said. "What makes this one so special you can claim to love her?"
He shrugged again. "I love them all. If they are beautiful, I love them."
Keira realized then that her definition of love and this young man's differed greatly.
Just then, a woman in the seat beside leaned over then, chiming in, "Your assignment is na?ve. Italy has no romance. Naples, especially. Have you seen the city?"
Keira's brief encounter with Naples so far hadn't filled her with any sense of romance at all. It was a crowded, dirty, intimidating place, like the worst parts of New York City. But she'd been hoping there might be an underbelly of romance beneath the grime, some kind of angle she could take; passion and anger were both hot-headed emotions, after all.
The woman continued ranting, much to the amusement of the other Internet cafe patrons.
"The men here chase women, sweet-talk them, say it is love, but they are all having affairs. It is just a game to them. Breaking hearts. Everyone is out for themselves. They say they love you because it is fun for them but the love does not endure. How many lovers do you have?" she demanded of the boy Keira had been originally interviewing.
He chuckled and shrugged in his nonchalant, arrogant way. "Seven. Maybe more."
"You see!" the woman cried, passionately. "And he tells them all, Oh baby I love you, you are the only one for me. Pigs. The lot of them."
The heated nature of the conversation was making Keira feel very uncomfortable.
"So you don't think Italy is the most romantic country in the world?"
The woman shook her head emphatically. "That is a myth, just like the monogamous man is also a myth!"
The young man beside her laughed aloud. Like the rest of the people in the cafe, he seemed amused by her passionate anger. Keira felt awful to have caused the scene.
She looked up at Antonio. "I've got all I can from here, can we head back to the hotel now?"
The experience was making her exhausted.
Antonio gave her his displeased look, as though she were acting like an ungrateful brat, but stood and headed out of the cafe. Keira followed, looking back over her shoulder at the passionate argument that had erupted between the woman and the man.
"Sorry," she mumbled, then ducked outside, leaving chaos in her wake.
*
Keira's hotel was on a main road, which was somewhat wider than the ones Antonio had been driving down so far. The buildings here were made of dark concrete. Wooden green shutters covered their windows and Italian flags hung from their balconies.
Antonio turned down a small alley that led to a courtyard within the buildings. There were scooters parked haphazardly all around.
He pointed Keira in the direction of the hotel.
"I will see you in the morning," he said from the driver's seat.
Realizing he wasn't going to help her with her case, Keira got out of the car, mumbling her gratitude, and got her luggage from the trunk.
She went into the lobby. Here, at least, it was well air conditioned. Other than that, the place looked cheap and shabby. In the foyer was an old desk and threadbare couch, with modern mismatched lamps dotted around. Keira wondered why Heather had booked such an unpleasant hotel for her. Was Viatorum having money problems?
At the reception desk, she checked in. The elevator was out of order so she had to carry her case up four flights of stairs.
Her room was tiny, without even a desk. Surely Heather knew that she was supposed to get her a room with desk! How was she expected to write tonight without one?
She tested the bed. It squeaked as she put her weight on it and the mattress was so firm it felt like it was made of wood.
In the en suite bathroom, Keira found a tiny shower, toilet, and sink. She tried to turn the shower on in order to test the water pressure but nothing happened. Then she saw that there was a coin slot.
"You've got to be kidding me," she said.
She grabbed some loose coins from her pocket and placed one into the slot. Water came from the shower head. She held her hand in the thin stream of water. It left a sticky residue on her palms.
At least she would only be staying here one night, Keira reasoned. Tomorrow she'd be taking the train to the Amalfi Coast and would be staying in a town called Positano.
For the first time since arriving in Italy, Keira had a spare moment to herself. She immediately checked her phone. There was nothing from Shane.
Exhausted, she sat on the bed and felt her tears coming. She tried desperately to think of something positive to write for her article but she simply couldn't. So far, Naples was horrible. She felt sad and alone, and dreaded tomorrow when she would be driven around in Antonio's cramped car once again.
She'd only just arrived, but already Keira wanted to go home. She tucked herself into bed and cried herself to sleep.