Lifeboat

6. The Italians

It had literally taken me all day to walk up the road to that castle. All bloody day. The tangerine colour of the sky told me so. I went through the gateway and followed the grassy path around the castle walls until I saw an entrance into the inner ruins.

Folds of smoke wrapped around each other, embracing themselves in a dance up to the sky. Intoxicating me with delicious scents. I allowed myself to be led by my nose and passed through a crumbled gap in the stonework.

The inner chamber, or should I say area, of this part of the ruins was half covered overhead by stretches of ancient timbers and flooring which broke off halfway. The floor had been infested with weeds and moss.

At the far side of this makeshift shelter, two figures bent over an open fire. One much taller and wider than the other. They wore dark clothing and prodded at a bulk of something which hung from a tripod of metal rods above the flames.

My hunger played dangerous games with my natural instinct of self preservation. A tantalising smell like pork ribs, sweet, sticky and charred encompassed my senses. Before I knew it, I was dribbling.

The limestone walls reached up high, the half ruined ceiling let the sea breeze rustle around the area, whipping the smoke into stray whiskers.

I announced my presence to the two people at the barbecue.
"Hey! Hey there. So nice to meet you both. Could you perhaps, please tell me where the hell I am? If you don't mind?"

The two bodies froze. Then the shorter one grabbed the other's arm and turned to face me. He looked about rapidly, as if expecting to find much more than the teenaged girl before him.

The taller of the two acknowledged me with no surprise. His dark eyes and well sculpted face, serene in his observation. He took the synthetic meat on the metal rods out of the fire and gestured for me to come closer.

The other glared at me from under bushy eyebrows and a faded, black baseball cap. His thick beard peppered with grey. He took his lead from his companion and motioned me nearer.

I suppose I should have been feeling afraid for my safety at this point. What with being up here in some long, lost ruin with two strangers in the dwindling daylight, but it didn't even cross my mind. Survival mode had kicked in and all I could think of was the food. Glorious and juicy.

The tall man ripped off the back leg from the fake meat - which I presume was meant to have been a rabbit - and held it out to me. His long, dark coat flapped around his legs with the breeze. His face was longer than his companion's. Dark hair caught back in a band, his skin darker than the other's. He waved the food at me like I would to a stray dog.

Swallowing my pride and my saliva, I lurched in quickly to snatch the meat.

The tall man proved quicker and grasped my wrist.

I squealed, twisting my arm to be free, but also making sure to keep a grip on the food.

The shorter man rushed forward, he placed his hands either side of my face. He spoke calmly and deeply, assuring me that I was safe.

"Calma. Bellissima. Cara. Tranquilla!" (calm, beautiful, dear, tranquil!)

Tears of nerves and exhaustion blistered my eyes and I gave in to the tranquil tone of the words. I sat myself down on the dusty ground. The warmth of the day, trapped within the soil, rose up to meet me. He released my face and I devoured the meat in seconds, leaving the slim bone shining white under the sunset.

The taller man released his grip and sat down with me.

The shorter pulled free the other leg off the rabbit and strode away, back the way I had arrived, without a word.

I glanced up past the half ceiling and took in the beauty of the evening sky. It had changed from tangerine to terracotta.

We sat together in silence for a while.

Eventually, the man pushed up the left sleeve of his heavy coat. He said nothing. His eyes were of a deep colour, his eyebrows and stubble dark. He had a long face, a prominent nose, that looked as though it had been broken more than once. High cheekbones and a strong bone structure. He must have been in his late twenties.

"Ecco." (look here)

He shook his wrist at me to get my attention. I stopped gawping at his face and concentrated on his arm. He had a birthmark. Similar to mine. His was pale and faded with time, smaller but nonetheless the same. The number seven.

I gasped and threw away the rabbit bone, yanked up the sleeve of my hideous sweater and showed him my number seven.

The man nodded and settled back into a crossed legged position. He regarded me with a painful expression before launching into a long and steady stream of words of which I had no understanding.

"Piccola, non so cosa sia successo, domani andiamo insieme, troviamo la verita'." ("Little one, I don't know what happened, tomorrow we will go together, we will find the truth.")

I have no idea why, but I totally trusted this man. Call it naivety, intuition or plain stupidity, but I just knew he would be the last person on earth to hurt me. How crazy was that?

He reached back to the fire and pulled off the rest of the rabbit. We shared it and ate in silence, both comfortable and satisfied. Once we had finished, the other man reappeared. He carried blankets and bottles of water. The taller man questioned him.

"Tutto bene?" (All okay?)

The shorter, older man answered gruffly.

"Si. Nessuno." (Yes. Nobody.)

I took a blanket gratefully and thought it was about time for proper introductions. Pointing at myself in true 'Tarzan' fashion, I said;

"Me, Poll."

Then I pointed at the shorter man. He grinned, getting the aim of the game straight away.

"Me, Marco."

The younger man smiled and lay down to rest on top of his blanket. He tapped his chest, imitating my Tarzan impression in a deep voice.

"Me, Dante."

All three of us laughed. Joined together in relief and ignorance. I fell asleep in no time at all.