An Italian Odyssey

[Lovino Vargas]

It's a leather-bound notebook. Dirty, stuffed in the pocket of a ragged tan trenchcoat in the corner of the room. It hasn't been opened in years, and the writing has faded a little, but is still quite legible thanks to impeccable penmanship. It's written in ink, and there are many messy scribbles where words are scratched out, despite the otherwise neat handwriting.

August 13

I haven't written in this damn thing since Nonno bought it for me a few years ago. I thought maybe I should start now. It feels wrong writing in it. ... I'll probably throw it away tomorrow.

But for now I need to write. I'm not going to have anyone to talk to for a while, not that I had that before or anything.

I filched one of Nonno's pocketknives. It's the one with gold leafing on the handle. I sure hope the old bastard misses it. It's the only most valuable thing I own now.

I'm writing this under a tree, in case I forget later. Near some vineyard or other. The grapes smell a little over-sweet from the sun. I just ran off left this morning, at five. No one will notice for a while. Maybe they'll never notice. I think I'll be able to find work somewhere. I just want to get farther away, first.

Somewhere farther in the countryside, with more farms. Somehwere "below" Vargas interest, somehwere no one would ever think to look for me. It's not like I'd rat out the family or anything, but they're not gonna trust anyone on their word, let alone me.

I wonder if Feli will be alright? I'm going to head farther south. Maybe I'll reach the coast. I've never seen the sea stretching out before me.

[Lovino Vargas]

August 16

I couldn't write. Just like I had to before, I couldn't. But now I need to again. This is driving me crazy. I keep thinking people will be following me. Shadows.

I jump at shadows. People working in the vineyards think there's something wrong with my head. They watch me. Whisper. Whatever. I'm still heading south.

And maybe I've stolen a few things. I'm learning. It's pretty easy after spying on everyone back home. Anyway, it's not much. Some money here, maybe a little food from a tree or two. Filch some grapes from the vineyards I pass. Whatever I can to keep me going. Not like they need it all anyway.

It started out as a whim. But I really need to see the sea now. I need to. Something is driving me towards the water. I'm not sure I like this feeling, but I

I'm getting closer to the water. I'd get there faster if I had some other form of transportation than walking, but I don't. It's getting hot, so I'll rest under a tree for a while.

[Lovino Vargas]

August 18

I somehow managed to hitch a ride. I was a little suspicious at first, but my legs were too sore to refuse the guy twice. We are still heading south, and for that I'm a bit reassured.

We're bouncing along in this rickety wagon, but... I'm enjoying the view. For once. The countryside is nice. The farmer giving me a ride said we'll see the water soon. He said sometimes it looks like the Mediterranean stretches on forever. I think I like the sound of that.

I realized ... I won't be able to stay for long. Even out here where they'd never think to look, it isn't safe. I hate that. I hate it so much.

Nonno's knife is burning in my pocket. Maybe I shouldn't have taken it. Old bastard deserves it anyway. It's mine now, I can feel it. Maybe the only good luck I

I wonder what the sea feels like.