Dani the Hero - 7. Chapter 7

The weekend had arrived by the time Daniele next saw Marco outside of school.

Daniele and Giacomo had agreed to meet up again on Sunday. Daniele had a feeling the other boy was planning to go ahead with his rock climbing idea, although he had remained cagey about exactly where they would be going.

In the meantime, Daniele had a whole Saturday to fill on his own. Once his parents had left to start their working day, Daniele headed into town with a few Euros in his pocket, hoping for a distraction.

It was another sunny morning, and as Daniele stepped into the cathedral square, he was momentarily cheered by the energy of the place. The summer was almost upon them, and the mid-morning coffee trade seemed busier than ever; the parasols outside the bars were already unfurled, with many of the customers taking refuge in the shade. Cascades of red and pink geraniums tumbled from the terracotta pots of bedding plants that dotted the square, which were now in full, colourful bloom, and the cicadas in the umbrella pines were scraping fit to burst. As Daniele looked around, wondering where to go next, the church bells chimed half past ten.

Daniele halted as he saw a familiar figure sitting alone on one of the stone benches under the pine trees. It was Marco, and he had already spotted Daniele. He was looking at him with narrowed eyes.

Daniele stared. Had Marco come here specially to wait for him?

Given what had happened at Salvatore’s shop a couple of days ago, Daniele didn’t think he could count on Toto’s help this morning. He hesitated, wondering where he could go that the smaller boy wouldn’t follow.

Remembering the cash in his pocket, Daniele decided to beat a tactical retreat to the Villa Cimbrone. He would have to pay to go inside, but so would Marco. If the smaller boy’s family were as poor as Gianni had suggested, surely he would think twice before following him there?

Daniele retraced his steps past the gift shops and slipped through the archway that led to the steps up the hill. Just before the square disappeared completely from view, Daniele glanced over his shoulder. Marco was there, standing just outside the entrance to the little street, hands in his pockets. He showed no sign of following Daniele any further.

Cautiously relieved, Daniele set off up the familiar winding stairway. There was no sign of anybody behind him as he passed through the echoing porch of the convent and climbed up past the fragrant trees beyond it. Passing the little garden where the stray cats liked to gather, he made it onto the home straight and reached the vegetable garden without incident.

Daniele paused to cool off and calm down, staring vaguely out at the view. On the far side of the valley, the little village of Pontone shone in the May sun, guarding the head of the crag that led out to the Torre dello Ziro. At the sight of it, the prospect of rock climbing with Giacomo elicited a shudder of sick anticipation, and Daniele wondered where the other boy was planning to take him.

Checking his pocket to make sure the money was all still there, Daniele set off down the sweeping flight of steps that led to the Villa Cimbrone. He wandered on towards the gardens, running a hand through the creepers that lined the high stone walls. The lush foliage whispered as he went, issuing forth a sweet, earthy fragrance.

The tall wooden gates were open. Daniele stepped through into the dappled shade of the huge umbrella pine in the courtyard, which stood sentinel over the high rendered walls and shuttered windows of the villa itself. Daniele approached the ticket kiosk. The same bespectacled, middle-aged woman was on duty, the one he had thought was Angelo’s cousin. He racked his brains, trying to remember her name; he was sure he had met her at Gianni’s birthday party last year.

Viola. I think it’s Viola.

“Buongiorno, signora,” he said politely.

Viola looked up and smiled. She had a Bohemian look, with a colourful patchwork blouse and hair that had been carefully styled to appear chaotic.

“Signor Ferrero,” she said warmly. “Back again so soon?”

“Yes,” Daniele replied, taken aback. “Do you know me?”

“Of course,” she smiled again. “It’s a small town, and we don’t have many boys round here with such soulful blue eyes and lovely blond hair.” She reached through the window and ruffled his hair, laughing delightedly. “It’s so soft…!”

“Ah… one please,” Daniele replied, a little flustered. He placed a few Euros on the counter.

“And you’ve even decided to pay this time!” Viola said lightly. “Thank you, caro.”

Daniele froze, his mouth slightly open and a familiar dull heat rising to his cheeks.

So, this is how it feels to be caught out…

“Ah…” he began, feeling he should apologise, but she raised a pacifying hand.

“We’ll say no more about it,” she said gently. “But you should tell your dark-eyed friend that he’s not as stealthy as he thinks. He’s snuck in without paying several times.”

“I will…” Daniele replied as Viola handed over his change and his ticket. “Thank you, signora.”

“Have a nice time,” she twinkled.

Self-consciously, Daniele set off into the gardens. Instead of following the main avenue as he usually would, he turned off down a side path that led to the lower terraces on the valley side of the hill. There, he knew, he could escape to some underdeveloped areas of the gardens that visitors didn’t usually reach. Maybe, then, he could relax and put Marco out of his mind.

After making sure there was nobody around, Daniele hopped over a low chestnut fence and ambled down onto an empty terrace, where he sat down on the dry earth in the shade of a pine tree. He examined his fingernails, anticipating his expedition with Giacomo tomorrow and wondering, idly, how he was going to pass the rest of the day.

The sudden and unexpected crunch of approaching footsteps disturbed his thoughts. Expecting one of the groundskeepers, Daniele glanced up, preparing himself to explain what he was doing out of bounds. But it wasn’t one of the staff: it was Marco.

Daniele scrambled hurriedly to his feet. His eyes flickered around, hoping to find an adult, but there was nobody.

The smaller boy walked slowly towards him. He was wearing the same pair of worn-out jeans from a couple of days ago, but he had changed his shirt. The olive-green check shirt he was wearing today was just as tired and faded as the blue one had been.

Now they were alone together, Marco seemed focused and purposeful rather than overly emotional.

“Ciao, Daniele,” he said. “The woman at the kiosk was very helpful. She told me exactly which way you’d gone.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I guess she thought we were friends.”

“I don’t want to fight anyone,” Daniele replied desperately. “Can’t you just leave it?”

Marco shook his head, spots of angry colour rising to his cheeks as his temper boiled over; Daniele realised his calm demeanour had just been an act.

“I can’t leave it!” he burst out. “Things were great before you came along, but now… it’s all ruined!”

The smaller boy hunkered down slightly, and Daniele realised he was getting ready to make his move. He raised his own arms to defend himself, with no real idea of what he was going to do.

Marco sprang at him with an angry cry. Instinctively, Daniele used both hands to brush him sideways, knocking him off-balance. Carried on by his own momentum, the smaller boy went sprawling in the dust, but was back on his feet at once and charged at Daniele, dealing his shoulder a painful blow before he could react again. Daniele pushed him away with both hands.

“Stop it, Marco!” he cried, turning to face his assailant. “This is stupid!”

But the smaller boy was beyond reason, and he charged Daniele again. Sidestepping the attack, Daniele tripped him up; Marco’s feet tangled, and he fell to the ground for a second time. This time, Daniele pounced, pinning the struggling boy down with his superior weight.

“Cut it out!” Daniele shouted.

Tearfully, Marco raised both hands in surrender.

“Fine,” he sobbed. “You win.”

Daniele released Marco and the smaller boy climbed to his feet, tears running openly down his cheeks.

“I should have known I didn’t have a chance,” he spat. “Story of my life.”

“I didn’t want to ruin anything,” Daniele said desperately. “Can’t we just…?”

“Just what?” Marco interrupted. “All be friends?”

Daniele shrugged. “Why not?”

Marco shook his head. “Forget it, Daniele.” Still weeping, he turned away. “Giaco has you now,” he said. “Why would he ever look at me next to his beautiful new friend?”

Daniele stared.

Is that what this was all about?

Stunned and speechless, Daniele watched as the smaller boy climbed dejectedly back up to the chestnut fence, hopped over it and disappeared back into the gardens beyond.

* * *

For a while, Daniele returned to the shade of his pine tree. He sank back down onto the dry ground, letting the adrenaline drain slowly from his body. He understood, now, why Marco had taken so violently against him from the moment he and Giacomo had first made friends.

Why didn’t I see it before?

He hadn’t been paying attention, had he? He had only had eyes for Giacomo.

Daniele picked up a pinecone and toyed with it distractedly, mulling things over. He had beaten the smaller boy in a fight, but it didn’t feel like a victory. It felt more like a theft.

A hero should only use his power for good.

Daniele knew that, in some ways, this was just what Giacomo had wanted: he needed his old friends to be safely out of the way. But did it have to hurt so much? And did Giacomo have even the slightest idea how Marco felt about him?

I don’t think so. I don’t think he sees either of us that way at all.

Daniele sighed and lay back on the ground, head resting on his hands, staring up through the canopy of the pine tree at the little glimpses of blue sky above. Only a few months ago, everything had seemed so much simpler. If this was what growing up felt like, he wasn’t sure he wanted any part of it.

* * *

Daniele rolled back into town a while later, looking for lunch. Now that he had survived his showdown with Marco, he had no reason to hide.

As Daniele stepped into the cathedral square, he saw two familiar figures sitting outside one of the bars: Toto and his father Salvatore, at their usual corner table near the pine trees. Toto was sipping on a soft drink and Salvatore was nursing a small beer. Daniele wandered over, unsure how he would be received but, when they saw him approaching, their expressions were quite friendly.

“Ciao, Dani,” Toto said, “why don’t you join us?” He glanced questioningly at Salvatore, who consented with a nod.

Daniele sat down at the end of the table. “Ciao,” he replied.

“What happened to you?” Toto asked, eyes wide. Brushing at his ruffled hair with one hand, Daniele glanced down and realised that his pink t-shirt was streaked with dry soil and dust.

“Oh, I…” Daniele gave him an embarrassed smile. “I got into a fight.”

“Come again…?” Toto gaped. “Are you really telling me that the gentlest boy in Ravello… who?”

“Do you remember Marco?” Daniele asked.

“That mousy-looking kid Gianni was telling us about?” Toto asked.

Daniele nodded. “Turns out… he’s in love with Giacomo,” he mumbled in embarrassment.

Toto whistled. “Ouch.”

Salvatore shook his head incredulously. “Aren’t there any heterosexual boys in this town?”

“Papà!” Toto half laughed, looking mortified.

“Toto,” Salvatore replied patiently, “you have to admit, I am surrounded by a sea of pink.”

Toto stared open-mouthed at his father for a second, and then his eyes fell on Daniele, who glanced ruefully down at his own pink t-shirt. Something about this seemed to strike Toto as deliciously funny, and he dissolved into a fit of the giggles.

Daniele offered him a confused sort of smile.

“So?” Toto panted, once he had got himself under some sort of control. “Did you win?”

Daniele nodded.

“Way to go, Dani,” Toto grinned.

Daniele smiled back, but he shook his head. “It felt crappy, Toto,” he replied. “He left in tears.”

Toto sobered up as he thought it through. “Yeah, I guess it would.”

Daniele looked glumly down at the tabletop. “I didn’t want to split anyone up,” he said, “but Giacomo, he wants Emilia and Marco out of the way, he…”

He halted, realising he might be saying too much.

“It’s okay, Dani,” Toto replied. “Papà knows.”

“Oh.” Daniele looked questioningly at Salvatore, who nodded.

“Toto told me your story after our shop was attacked,” he explained. “I already had some idea of who was behind it all, but Toto helped me to join the dots… it seems your new friend has been a busy boy.”

“Giacomo had nothing to do with the attack on your store, signore,” Daniele said in a rush. “He told me he’s never done Via Roma and… I believe him.”

Salvatore raised a pacifying hand. “Please, Daniele, calm yourself,” he said. “I don’t pretend to understand why your friend has allowed himself to be drawn into all of this, but he is not the real villain here.”

“I’m sorry, Dani,” Toto said. “I couldn’t keep your secret any more, not after what’s happened.”

“I still haven’t managed to get him to quit,” Daniele replied miserably.

“The question is, what are we going to do about it?” Salvatore pondered. “If the police won’t help…”

“We could get some people together, Papà,” Toto said. “Maybe we can work something out?”

“Is that what it’s really come to, Toto?” Salvatore replied. “Vigilantism? We should contact a higher authority.”

“Yeah, but how long would that take?”

Salvatore sighed. “I used to believe that nobody could really come to harm in this town, not with the whole community watching. But now, it seems, even the children aren’t safe.”

Toto took his hand. “It’s still safe here really, Papà,” he said. “This thing… it won’t last forever.”

Salvatore turned to Daniele. “Toto has told me about your attempts to free your friend from Ettore Neri’s clutches,” he said. “You’re a brave boy for trying, but you shouldn’t put yourself at risk to help Giacomo if he doesn’t want to be helped.”

“I don’t think he really wants to be doing it, signore,” Daniele replied. “He wants Ettore to be caught just as much as the rest of us.”

Salvatore shrugged his shoulders. “Nevertheless.”

Daniele sighed glumly. “I can’t do it anyway,” he said. “I’ve tried my best… but I’m just going to be his friend now.”

Salvatore nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Me too, Dani,” Toto said. He opened his arms, gesturing for Daniele to come over. Daniele did, and accepted the hug, grateful for his support.

“How about some lunch, Dani?” Toto asked. “We were just about to order.”

Daniele nodded. “Thanks, Toto. You’re the best.”

* * *

Sunday morning found Daniele cycling up the hill on his mountain bike. Giacomo had asked him to meet him by the ceramics workshop and to bring transport, cash and a supply of water. Daniele knew they would probably be climbing, so he had dressed lightly in his lavender t-shirt and a pair of shorts and had packed his gear in a small rucksack to keep his hands free.

The morning had dawned with a few scattered clouds, but there was already heat in the sun. So far, it was at a level that Daniele could handle without breaking into too much of a sweat. He crested the hill comfortably and zipped past the bus stops, watched by the usual collection of elderly locals with weathered, lived-in faces and beady, beetle-black eyes.

Daniele enjoyed the cool of his own breeze as he coasted through the tunnel that led to the cathedral square. A couple of pigeons took flight as he turned into the square itself, and he slowed down as the numbers of passers-by thickened. Carefully, he crossed the square and slipped by the pine trees, where the cicadas were already in full voice, and carried on down the tree-lined street beyond, bumping over the crazy paving until he made it to the top of the valley road.

As luck would have it, as he reached the ceramics workshop, he met Giacomo coming the other way, freshly arrived from the Toro. His mountain bike was a flashy scarlet colour, with a decal sticker featuring the familiar prancing horse of Ferrari.

“Ciao, Dani!” he called as he approached, skidding effortlessly to a halt in the middle of the road.

“Ciao, Giaco,” Daniele replied, laughing at his friend’s ostentatious entrance.

“Are you ready?” Giacomo asked, riding his bike round in a circle so they could head out again.

Daniele nodded. “Sure.”

“All right, then,” Giacomo replied. “Andiamo!”

Giacomo set off along the road with Daniele in hot pursuit. Giacomo had also forsaken his trendy jackets today in favour of lighter clothing; he was riding in a sleeveless black top and a matching pair of shorts, and seemed to be enjoying the feel of the breeze on his bare shoulders.

They were soon on the main road down into the valley. The morning sun was shining brightly on the hillside of Scala, picking out the whitewashed buildings in bright detail against the terraced bands of green foliage, brown earth and pale stone. Smoke rose here and there from small bonfires on the slopes. At the head of the valley, the tree-crowned peak of Monte Brusara loomed over the scattered houses of San Martino.

“Where are we going?” Daniele asked as they rattled past the echoing mouth of the main road tunnel, which connected the valley road to the main road to Naples.

“Pontone,” Giacomo called back over his shoulder.

“We’re not going to the Torre, are we?” Daniele shouted anxiously, “I… had a bad time there once.”

Giacomo shook his head. “There’s no good climbing there. The cliffs are too sheer.”

Daniele breathed a sigh of relief and followed his friend down into the olive groves. Soon they had swept around a hairpin bend and were freewheeling down the valley in the direction of the coast.

In the rugged, rocky lower reaches of the valley, they descended through several more hairpin bends and reached a point where the road split. They turned off the main road and began the gradual climb back up to the village of Pontone, crossing a high bridge over the brisk Dragone stream so they hugged the cliffs on the far side of the valley. Soon they reached a point where the road plunged into a tunnel under an uneven rock outcrop, and it was here that Giacomo pulled off the road and dismounted.

Daniele followed suit, glancing anxiously up at the cliffs above. They seemed quite impassable, riddled with deep cavities and jagged overhangs.

“We’re not going up there, surely?” Daniele asked.

Giacomo shook his head. “Trust me,” he replied. “Come on, let’s stash these bikes.”

Giacomo led Daniele along a narrow, disused-looking path to the side of the road tunnel. The path clung to the outside of the rocky outcrop before climbing up among the trees as an old, weed-strewn staircase.

“Are we even allowed up here?” Daniele asked.

“Don’t know,” Giacomo shrugged. “Pass me your bike.”

Giacomo detached a lock from the frame of his mountain bike and chained the two bikes together, resting them among the trees just out of the view of the road, then set off up the steps, beckoning for Daniele to follow.

The steps meandered up the rockface until they were standing on an unfenced path above the far portal of the road tunnel, overlooking the road. Below, a Vespa scooter lumbered up the hill on its way to the centre of the village. Daniele could see a few houses among the rocks, and beyond that the sheer cliffs of the crag where the Torre dello Ziro stood. This was the nearest Daniele had been to the Torre since his fall, and he shuddered slightly at the thought.

“What do you think?” Giacomo grinned, gesturing up at the hillside above them.

Daniele followed his eyeline and gulped slightly at the sight of it.

They were at the foot of a gulley in the mountainside that had been terraced and cultivated with grape vines and lemon trees. At the edges of the rock outcrop, the terraces petered out as the soil became thinner and stonier. From this side, the rocks did, in fact, look climbable: they stepped back in a series of low ledges, clefts and crevices, scattered with generous patches of dry grass and scrubby trees. However, what really struck Daniele was the scale of it. The rocks stretched seemingly endlessly up the mountain until they disappeared from view somewhere opposite the Villa Cimbrone on the far side of the valley. For a moment, Daniele felt dizzy just looking at it.

“Are… you… crazy?” Daniele gasped.

“Too much for you?” Giacomo asked; he seemed genuinely concerned.

“I don’t know… maybe…”

Giacomo looked disappointed. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but… come on, Dani, we can manage it if we work together. It’ll be a rush!”

Daniele considered it for a moment, his common sense at war with a desire to prove himself. There was also a nagging feeling of unfinished business, as if he needed to do this somehow… perhaps to redress the balance after his frightening experience at the Torre last summer.

“Where will we finish up?” Daniele asked.

Giacomo smiled slowly, as if he had caught Daniele’s use of the world will and knew where it was heading. The light of adventure was kindling in his dark eyes again.

“Minuta, above Scala,” he replied. “If we make it all the way to the top, I’ll buy you lunch.”

Daniele twisted his mouth pensively and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go, then,” he said.

Giacomo grinned. “You’re awesome, Dani,” he countered.

Daniele smiled. “Really? Nobody’s ever called me awesome before,” he replied, standing a little taller.

“And nobody will again, if we both fall to our deaths,” Giacomo said cheerfully, his eyes gleaming. “Come on, let’s do this.”

They clambered up the first section of the rockface, picking over the rocks on all fours. It was fairly easy at first, as they scrambled up a zig-zagging slope of sorts next to an old stone wall. Daniele gasped as his foot slipped on a loose pebble, sending it skittering down to the top of the steps in a little flurry of rock dust. Hunkering down on his three remaining limbs, he resolved to check his footing more carefully.

Giacomo was a few paces above him. “You’re doing great, Dani,” he called back down.

Ahead of them, the stone wall ran into the rocks as they became more vertical. They paused on a ledge that was big enough for them both to sit on, glancing back down at the road, which already seemed a long way below them. Daniele shrugged off his rucksack and helped himself to a little water.

Giacomo clutched Daniele’s arm excitably for a moment. “What would your parents say if they could see you now?” he asked.

Mamma would probably faint, Daniele thought. His heart was pounding a little but, for the moment, he felt safe enough. He turned to the other boy.

“If I die, they’ll kill me,” he said, and they both giggled.

“Which way now, do you think?” Giacomo asked.

Daniele glanced around for a moment and gestured along the ledge, which turned in towards the gulley before climbing steeply up past a patch of scrubby trees. “That way?”

Giacomo nodded. “Looks good.”

They took to two feet for a while, following the ledge until it turned in towards the cultivated terraces. Daniele trod carefully, keeping a hand on the rockface beside him at all times. Above them, a second ledge picked up a route further up the rockface, but the stone leading up to it was too smooth to climb alone.

“Give me a leg up here,” Giacomo said.

“I’ll try,” Daniele replied. He placed his back to the rocks, squatted and cupped one of the other boy’s feet in his hands, then lifted with his knees, straining upright as Giacomo scrabbled up the rock surface and dragged himself over the top. Giacomo spun around and dangled himself back down again, extending a hand for Daniele to grasp.

“Your turn now,” he said.

Daniele scrambled up the rock slope as best he could and managed to catch hold of Giacomo’s hand. His grip was warm and dry, with a thin coating of rock dust. Screwing up his face with effort, Giacomo heaved Daniele up until they were both sprawled on the safety of the dry grass and sun-bleached rock.

“Epic,” Giacomo panted, turning back round so he could lie down next to Daniele. Both boys paused for a moment to catch their breath. Dazed with a heady combination of exhilaration and exertion, Daniele grasped the other boy’s hand again.

“Are we really doing this?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Giacomo grinned. “You and me, we’re a team.”

By now, they could see all the way over the Torre dello Ziro to the deep blue horizon beyond. The clouds scudded slowly across the sky in the slight breeze, a lick of which caressed Daniele’s forehead, drying a couple of beads of perspiration that had formed there. A group of three swifts flew across the sky, calling shrilly; Daniele had a clear view of their forked tails silhouetted against the clouds as they zipped across his field of view.

They twisted back onto all fours and clambered up through another patch of scrub, picking their way over boulders and tree roots until they came out behind an old shed at the top of the terraced gulley, finished with sheets of rusting corrugated iron. From there, the going became steeper for a while, and they climbed side by side up a short patch of almost vertical rocks, searching carefully for handholds and footholds. At one point, Daniele’s hand slipped; for a split second, he thought he might fall, but Giacomo caught his arm in a flash.

“Don’t slip on me now, Dani,” he said, as they stabilised his grip.

“Thanks,” Daniele panted, closing his eyes against a second of faintness.

They scrambled up onto another large grassy ledge and flopped down again, breathing heavily. Incredibly, Daniele realised, they were already nearing the top of the outcrop. They spread their arms and legs out, revelling in the luxury of space.

“You’d better buy me a really good lunch,” Daniele said, casting a sidelong glance in the other boy’s direction.

Giacomo glanced back and grinned. “Oh, yeah,” he replied. “All the best things on the menu.”

It wasn’t very comfortable lying back on his rucksack, even though it was mostly empty, so Daniele sat up and took a longer drink of water. Giacomo followed suit, scrunching in next to Daniele. The dark-eyed boy picked up a few chips of gravel and flicked them back down the rockface; Daniele watched raptly as they bounced from rock to rock, skittering down into the depths of the gulley.

That could have been us…

The two boys put their water bottles away and then they were ready to move on again. They had risen above the cultivated area, but there was a clear route to follow now. Scrambling up a steep grassy slope, heaving themselves up over a couple more rocks, they finally crested the outcrop and were able to look down over the other side. It dropped away in a dizzying fashion back to the road in the bottom of the valley; Daniele recoiled slightly, hunkering down again to keep his footing. Above them was a steep but clearly negotiable route up to the foot of the terraced slopes beneath Minuta, with only one place where it looked like they would need to give each other a leg up again.

It seemed like the perfect moment to take stock of what they had just accomplished. They sat down among the rocks and grass, dangling their legs back down the slope they had just climbed. Casting his eyes across the valley, now a broad, deep, shaded gulf below them, Daniele could clearly see the end of the Terrace of Infinity at the Villa Cimbrone, where visitors were admiring photos and taking selfies behind the safety of the stone balustrade.

“This is so…” Daniele began.

“…real?” Giacomo finished.

Daniele glanced across to the other boy and felt a powerful swell of pride and unity. From the broad grin on Giacomo’s face, it looked like he was feeling exactly the same way. In unison, they raised a hand and exchanged a high-five.

Daniele gazed down at the road, now a thin black ribbon below them.

“I never knew I could do something like this,” he breathed.

For the first time, Daniele felt a real taste of what it might – perhaps – feel like to be a superhero. But what they had done, they had done together, and without the help of any superpowers. Right now, he felt like he was on top of the world.

* * *

Once they felt rested, the two boys set off up the remainder of the rocky slope. They made the last climb without incident, helping each other up over one last section as they had done before, until they arrived back on the edge of civilisation.

They had reached a semi-derelict terrace, where there were no plants or trees to break up the expanse of dusty soil. High on victory, they laughed and joked their way up through the internal paths and steps. They were trespassing again but, after the dizzying climb they had just completed together, it no longer seemed so important.

They came up against a high stone wall just below the lowest houses of the village, looking back and forth for a way out.

“Where’s the exit?” Daniele giggled.

“Search me,” Giacomo replied. At random, he gestured left; they hugged the wall for a while, until they found a spot where they could hop over a gate leading out onto a public path.

They climbed up a very quiet staircase between tatty outbuildings and a stone wall covered in creepers. The sun, now at its zenith, beat down mercilessly on their heads, and Daniele began to look forward to the cold drink he would soon be enjoying when they found somewhere to eat.

The village of Minuta turned out to be a dense little cluster of large villas and old houses, perched on a promontory high above the Valle del Dragone between Pontone and Scala. As they climbed on up the little street, it widened and opened out until it offered panoramic views over the lower reaches of the valley and the sea beyond. On a neighbouring promontory, the romantic ruins of an ancient basilica gazed down over the neighbouring Valle delle Ferriere leading to the coast at Amalfi. Cicadas scraped among the olive trees below the path as they walked.

At the heart of the village, they found a little square, a sturdy church and not much else. It was the very definition a quiet, sleepy place.

“There’s nothing here, Giaco,” Daniele said wryly.

The other boy shook his head in dismay. “I noticed…”

“I guess we’ll have to go back down.”

They paused for a final slurp of water, then found a zig-zagging path that led back down the hill and set off amicably enough.

“Uffa. I’m starving,” Giacomo said after a while.

“Me too,” Daniele replied. Pouting in an exaggerated sort of way, he added, “I can’t believe I just climbed a mountain for you and there was no food at the top.”

Giacomo laughed. “Will you forgive me if I buy you two lunches?” he said.

“One will be okay,” Daniele replied, “as long as there’s ice cream at the end of it.”

“Sure, of course,” Giacomo said lightly. “We’ll need something to get us back up the valley when we cycle home.”

Daniele exhaled wearily. “I forgot about that. Now I really wish I could do that flying thing.”

“Yeah, that would be so cool! You could have us home in seconds.”

They were descending rapidly now, following a route that would take them straight down into the tiny square at the centre of Pontone. From a previous visit, Daniele remembered seeing a bar there that would be able to serve them a basic lunch. Stomachs rumbling, they quickened their pace.

Before long, they were seated at an outside table under the welcome shade of an awning and a couple of small trees. The waiter brought them each a tall glass of iced Sprite, which the two boys set to with a will.

“Thanks, Giaco,” Daniele said. He took a sip of the cold, sparkling drink, relishing the way it revived his flagging senses.

“What for?” Giacomo asked.

“Making me do all that,” Daniele replied. “Ever since…”

He hesitated, then launched into the story of his fall at the Torre the previous summer. Falteringly, he described how he had waited on the tiny ledge for hours before he was missed. By the time he’d told Giacomo about Toto and Michele’s quick thinking that had led them to him, and Enzo’s daring abseil down the cliff to rescue him, the other boy was agog.

“You went through all that and you still climbed that hill with me?” Giacomo breathed.

Daniele shrugged. “Yes.”

“If I’d known, I’d… I’d never have asked you to do it.”

Daniele shook his head. “I’m glad you did. It’s the best thing I could have done!” he insisted.

Giacomo stared at him. “You know, earlier, when I said you were awesome?” he asked. “I was wrong.”

Daniele frowned. “Wrong?”

Giacomo grinned. “It wasn’t enough. You really are a superhero.”

* * *

Some time later, Daniele and Giacomo returned to Ravello triumphant.

Tiredness had got the better of them as they cycled back up the valley, so they had walked their mountain bikes up the steeper sections, but nothing could diminish their pride at conquering the mountain. They wheeled their bikes into the cathedral square together and leant them against a lamp post, blind to their surroundings, only dimly aware of the quiet buzz of conversation and the churr of the cicadas in the pine trees.

“I had the best day today,” Daniele said. “It was… totally terrifying, but it was the best.”

Giacomo slung an arm around his shoulder. “Maybe we’ll find an even bigger mountain next time,” he whispered conspiratorially, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.

Daniele laughed. “No way.” He looked the other boy up and down; his black shorts and vest top were streaked with dry earth and stone dust. “You’re a mess, Giaco.”

Giacomo smirked. “Oh, yeah? Have you seen yourself?”

Daniele glanced down and saw that his lavender t-shirt and pale shorts were equally smeared. He winced. “Mamma’s going to want to know what I keep doing to all my best clothes,” he said morosely.

“Maybe this’ll help,” Giacomo said. Reaching out, he started brushing Daniele down with both hands.

The sensation was maddening, and Daniele cringed back at once. “Stop it,” he yelped, “that tickles!”

The corner of Giacomo’s mouth twitched, but he only started doing it more ferociously. Daniele was forced to fight back.

“Gerroff…!”

“No!”

There was a moment’s chaotic mutual fumbling before Giacomo fell back, giggling. “Okay, I surrender.”

Flushed and flustered, Daniele had to pause and catch his breath. He reached out for the other boy, clutching his arm for support.

“Yeah, really cute,” said a tight little voice.

Daniele and Giacomo looked up and found themselves face-to-face with Marco. The smaller boy must have snuck up on them while they were busy with each other. He stood before them, hands balled into fists, his grey eyes trembling with suppressed emotion as he looked from one boy to the other.

“Marco?” Giacomo said blankly. “What the…?”

“Forget it, Giaco,” Marco retorted. “I get it. You’ve chosen him.”

He pushed past them and stormed off down the street behind them. Within seconds, he was running.

Giacomo turned to Daniele, his dark eyebrows knotted in confusion. “I don’t get it. What’s the big deal?” he said.

It had never been clearer that Giacomo had no idea how the smaller boy felt, and Daniele wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Marco misses you,” he said lamely.

“Yeah, but…” Giacomo scratched his head. “You know how it is.”

“Is it really helping them? Hurting them like this?” Daniele asked. “You know, Marco… he picked a fight with me yesterday.”

Giacomo stared. “You fought him?”

Daniele nodded. “I won,” he mumbled.

Giacomo couldn’t seem to suppress a smile. “I wish I’d seen that,” he said.

Daniele sighed. “It wasn’t fun,” he replied, “but they’re not stupid. They know something’s going on.”

Giacomo shrugged uncertainly. “I’ll think about it,” he said. He seemed troubled for a moment, but then he rallied and the smile reappeared. “But I’ll tell you what, Dani…”

Daniele looked at him questioningly. “What?”

Giacomo grinned. “Now you’re not just a conqueror of mountains, but an awesome street-fighter too.”

Daniele groaned and cast his eyes towards the heavens. “Ah, c’mon…”

Giacomo snickered and punched him on the arm. “See you at school tomorrow, Dani.”

And, with that, he mounted his bicycle and was gone.