Dani the Hero - 12. Chapter 12

The three friends walked back along the footpath in silence. Now they were actually putting Daniele’s plan into action, the potential danger he was about to walk into was starting to weigh more heavily on his mind.

They returned to Daniele’s home and Emilia went to fetch her bicycle. Daniele opened the door to let Giacomo in.

“Good luck, Dani,” he said, grabbing both Daniele’s hands for a moment. “You’re a great friend.”

“Thanks, Giaco,” Daniele replied.

Giacomo turned to Emilia. “And if anything goes wrong, please don’t just leave me here. Come and tell me. We’ll fetch help together.”

Emilia nodded. “I will.”

Daniele grabbed his own mountain bike. They set off up the hill together in the heat of the morning; Daniele led the way, unsure, now, exactly what he was cycling towards. Could Giacomo’s problems really be resolved by something as simple as a chat with the right person? Did Ettore have a reasonable side that he could appeal to? Giacomo was only twelve, after all.

Above all, Daniele hoped Ettore would be alone when he arrived. Then, perhaps, he would have a chance.

Onward they climbed, passing the old stairways and then the modern concert hall, and soon they were heading out along the Naples road. As Daniele’s appointment with Ettore grew closer, he began to wonder about Filippo’s family in Naples. Just how ruthless were they? Why had they really cut Ettore out of the family business? Was it because he wasn’t bad enough, or because he was even worse? Filippo’s mother had made it sound like he was simply incompetent; Daniele wasn’t sure whether that improved his chances or made his mission even more dangerous.

By the time he and Emilia had taken the turning for Sambuco, Daniele was having serious second thoughts, but he was committed now and he didn’t want to let his friend down. If Giacomo could visit Ettore several times and come away unscathed, then he should be able to do it once.

They descended through the rocks and scrub and past the scattered houses and terraced plantations. The tree-lined valley rose around them, and Daniele suddenly felt very small: an insignificant little speck pushing back against the steepest of odds. He wondered what his parents would say if they knew what he was about to do.

Time seemed oddly compressed: they had already arrived at the layby with the log pile. Daniele dismounted from his bike and showed Emilia where to hide hers, then they walked down the last stretch of the quiet road together, heading for the steep steps that led down into the valley. They paused at the crash barrier overlooking the stairway.

“Will you be okay running all the way back up these if anything happens?” Daniele asked.

“Don’t worry,” Emilia replied seriously. “I’ll run like my ass is on fire.”

They set off down the steps, making their way down through the plantation. Since Daniele had last been this way, the grape vines had filled out and the lemon trees now had plump yellow fruit ripening on them. All was quiet save for the scraping of the cicadas and the clopping of their feet on the scruffy concrete.

When they had reached the lower levels of the plantation, Daniele led Emilia in through the dusty shade under the grape vines, following the path he had first seen Giacomo taking all those weeks ago. They paused on the threshold of the scruffy house’s tatty little courtyard, safely out of sight of the windows.

“This is the place,” Daniele whispered. He pointed to the dense clump of grape vines where he had hidden before. “That’s a good spot to hide. You can see in through the windows, but you’re not that easy to see from inside.”

“All right,” Emilia replied. “I’ll hide there.”

She took his hand for a second, leaned in, and kissed him softly on the cheek. Unexpected heat rose to Daniele’s face, and he glanced at her, momentarily confused, his eyes wide.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“For what you’re doing for Giacomo,” she replied, looking embarrassed. “It’s… really brave.”

“Stay safe,” he replied. “If you think you’re in danger, get out of here.”

“What about you?”

“You can’t help me if they catch you too.”

Emilia nodded. “Okay.”

They crept across the courtyard together until Emilia had hidden herself by the grape vines. She waved him off anxiously as he passed the windows, which were open. He crept round the back corner of the house, as he had seen Giacomo do, and found himself standing outside the front door.

Daniele knocked, but there was no answer. Feeling foolish for trying such a conventional approach, he pushed at the door and found it unlocked.

The door opened on a gloomy little hallway lit by a single dirt-smeared window. Nervously, Daniele turned in the direction he knew the kitchen must be, knocked on the internal door and then pushed it open.

The kitchen, as tired and grimy-looking as ever, was lit brightly by the sunlight streaming in through the open windows. Daniele could see the grape vines outside, but he was relieved to see that Emilia was safely hidden from view.

Ettore Neri was sitting on one of four hard wooden chairs at the kitchen table, his small, pouchy eyes fixed upon Daniele and his piglike face locked in a scowl. He seemed to be alone.

“I don’t know who you think you are, kid,” Ettore rasped, “but what are you doing in my kitchen?”

“I… came to talk to you, signore,” Daniele said hesitantly, his voice catching in his throat with nerves.

“I think perhaps you’ve come to the wrong house,” Ettore said flatly. “Get out, kid, and we’ll say no more about it.”

For a moment, Daniele was tempted to do as he was told and to cut and run, but then he remembered Giacomo.

“Please, signor Neri…”

Ettore bristled. “How do you know my name?” he growled.

Daniele realised there was no going back now. “I’m friends with Giacomo Agnello, signore,” he said. “I… I wanted to tell you that he hasn’t been betraying you, and wondered whether you could please ask Antonio not to hurt him any more?”

Ettore’s flint-like eyes narrowed. “I admire your loyalty,” he said. “But tell me, kid. If the Agnello brat hasn’t been telling tales, how do you know so much about what’s going on here?”

Daniele realised he had been outmanoeuvred. He swallowed hard. “Please, signore, I just…” he began.

“Boys!” Ettore called, and Daniele realised with horror that the older man wasn’t alone after all.

The second door swung open and Filippo and Antonio strolled in, followed by a third, smaller figure. He had replaced his faded check shirts with a smart new set of sports clothes, and he had cut and styled his hair, but it was unmistakably Marco. At first, he stared at Daniele with utter incomprehension, but his expression quickly clouded into dislike.

“What’s this, zio Ettore?” Filippo asked. He, too, was staring at Daniele with a kind of fascinated disbelief.

“Marco, do you know this kid?” Ettore growled.

Marco nodded. “That’s Giacomo’s little friend Daniele,” he spat. “Giacomo’s probably told him everything. He’s known about all this for weeks.”

“Oh, really?” Ettore rasped, turning back to Daniele. “Perhaps you’re telling the truth, then. Perhaps the Agnello kid isn’t the one who’s been betraying us. Perhaps it’s been you all along? What do you say?”

Daniele shook his head, backing towards the door. “No, signore, I swear…” he said desperately.

Ettore laughed mirthlessly. “Not so fast, kid,” he growled. “We need to talk some more.” He turned to Filippo and Antonio. “Grab him, boys.”

Daniele turned to run, but the two young men grabbed him by the arms.

“No, please…” he cried, but he was dragged, still protesting, back towards the kitchen table and made to sit down in one of the spare chairs, heart pounding with fear.

Outside, Daniele caught a fleeting glimpse of blue and white as Emilia took flight and made for the stairway. He stared out of the window with desperate hope.

“Don’t try to get up again, Daniele,” Filippo warned.

A hero would be brave…

How long would it take Emilia to cycle back, find Giacomo and fetch help? An hour, maybe? And who would they go to? How would he survive until then? Maybe, if he could just keep them talking…

Ettore heaved himself out of his chair and spoke to Filippo. “Come with me,” he said. He turned to the others. “Watch him, Antonio.”

Antonio nodded, with an unpleasant leer in Daniele’s direction, and leant against the wall with his arms folded. Ettore and his nephew disappeared into the back room, leaving Daniele alone with Antonio and Marco.

“What are you doing here, Marco?” Daniele asked.

The smaller boy glared at him. “I’ve been working for Ettore ever since you and Giaco led me straight to him,” he replied.

“He must be paying you well. I can tell by your clothes.”

Marco’s cheeks flared with colour once again. “What do you care, Daniele?” he snapped. “I’ve got to have something. You already took everything else away from me.”

“I wasn’t trying to take anything!” Daniele cried. Being angry with Marco helped to distract him from the fear, so he seized on the feeling and ran with it. “Giacomo was trying to protect you from all this, that’s all... but maybe he shouldn’t have bothered. You seem to like it here just fine.”

“Shut up,” Marco retorted quietly. He turned away and shoved his hands into the pockets of his new jacket, staring moodily out of the window.

If Daniele had been under less pressure, he might have regretted his outburst; but now that his short flash of anger was subsiding, the fear was making itself known again. He looked warily at Antonio, who had been watching the argument unfold with a queasy smirk on his face.

“You two have issues,” Antonio chortled. He stepped away from his spot by the wall and sat down in the chair opposite Daniele, his muddy brown eyes staring at him with a kind of base fascination. “But you’re a pretty one.” He reached out and caressed Daniele’s cheek mockingly with one meaty hand, playing with a lock of his blond hair. Daniele shuddered and slid his chair back a couple of inches. From the window, Marco glanced at Antonio in disgust, but made no move to help.

“Leave me alone,” Daniele said quietly, his throat tight.

“You know, you look familiar,” Antonio murmured. A slow realisation was dawning in his eyes, and he gripped the edge of the table excitedly. “It was you!” he burst out. “You’re the little freak who interfered when I was seeing to Giacomo last night.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Daniele lied desperately.

“Oh, sure,” Antonio replied, his expression darkening. “D’you think I’m stupid?” He breathed deeply. “I’d sort you out right now, but I’d better wait for the boss’ word.”

Antonio backed off and returned to his spot by the wall, his face sulky. Daniele was able to breathe a little easier, and wondered briefly whether, with the others out of the room, he might be able to make a break for it… but then he thought of what Antonio might do if he caught up with him, and he stamped on the idea.

Hurry up, Emilia…

Things fell quiet for a time. After a few minutes, the inner door clattered open, and Ettore and Filippo returned from the back room.

Ettore took the seat that Antonio had just vacated and leaned over the table. Filippo went to stand with Antonio, fiddling idly with his suit jacket.

“So,” Ettore rasped. “Daniele, isn’t it? Tell me exactly how much you know about all this.”

His small, pouchy eyes stared straight into Daniele’s own, demanding the truth. Daniele gulped.

“I know you’re running a protection racket,” he said, “and I know you’ve got some kind of hold over the Carabinieri.”

“Giacomo told you all this?” the older man asked.

Daniele shook his head. “No. I followed him…”

“…and discovered all my secret plans.” Ettore uttered a harsh bark of laughter that was almost a cough. “My, you really are the perfect illustration of the old saying that ‘curiosity killed the cat’.”

“Please don’t kill me, signore,” Daniele said in a small voice.

Ettore waved this away scornfully. “What do you think we are, animals?” he said. “We don’t go round murdering children.”

Daniele gestured at Antonio. “I’m not so sure about that one.”

“Antonio has other things on his mind, perhaps,” Ettore conceded. “But he answers to me.”

“That’s right, boss,” Antonio chipped in. Ettore silenced him with a glare.

“The real question is,” Ettore went on, “have you told anyone else about us? Your parents, perhaps?”

“No, I haven’t said a thing to my parents,” Daniele answered quickly.

Ettore nodded. “Then perhaps some older friends? Business owners, perhaps?”

Cornered, Daniele bit his lip, his eyes flicking nervously round the room. Ettore snorted.

“It’s as I suspected. Too much curiosity, and not enough common sense. You clearly talk far more than is good for you.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Daniele asked.

Ettore sat back in his chair, placing the tips of his callused fingers together. “I haven’t decided yet,” he said, “but we certainly can’t let this interference go unpunished.”

Daniele sensed his time was running out. “Why are you doing all this, signore?” he asked desperately.

Ettore’s eyes narrowed. “Because I will have my respect,” he growled.

“I respect you, signore,” Daniele said urgently.

Ettore waved his statement away again. “Your respect doesn’t concern me, kid. I’m talking about the people back in Napoli. They shut me out because they think I can’t cut it in this business. Well, Filippo and I will show them.”

“I… I’m sure you are showing them, signore,” Daniele replied.

How long had it been now? Forty minutes? How much longer did he have to keep them all talking?

“He’s trying to butter you up, zio Ettore,” Filippo interjected. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t respect us in the slightest.”

“I can see that, Filippo,” Ettore rasped. He turned back to Daniele. “You’re good, kid; good survival skills, I’ll give you that. But I don’t think there’s any help on the way. Your pal Giacomo seems to have gone into hiding… some friend he’s turned out to be.”

Daniele flared up at once. “Giaco does care about me,” he replied. “He didn’t want me to come here today. He’s hiding because I told him to, because, last night, Antonio tried to… to…”

To do what, exactly?

Despite all he had seen, Daniele didn’t know for sure. “He had a knife,” he said.

“Is this true, Antonio?” Ettore asked.

The greasy young man shrugged. “Might have,” he replied sullenly.

Ettore snorted. “The boy’s trying to use his initiative,” he told Daniele, his face almost apologetic, “but it sounds like he needs some more training.”

“Please, signore, just let me go,” Daniele said. “I won’t tell tales on you again, I swear.”

“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?” Ettore growled. “How can I be sure of your co-operation? No, I think you need to stay here a while longer while we think it over.”

He levered himself painstakingly out of the chair. Left alone, Daniele put his head in his hands, fighting back tears.

I’m sorry, Giaco. I’m sorry, Mamma, Papà… I failed again.

Several more minutes passed. Daniele began to wonder, if help came at all, what form would it even take? Could whoever it was really take on three grown men?

It was in the middle of such a thought that Daniele heard the front door clattering open and light footsteps entering the kitchen. He looked up and stared in disbelief. Giacomo had walked into the room, and he was alone. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking small and vulnerable in Daniele’s blue tie-dye t-shirt, glancing carefully around at everyone present. If he was surprised to see Marco, he managed not to show it. He smiled ever so slightly when he saw Daniele sitting unharmed at the table.

“Buongiorno, signore,” he said, addressing Ettore. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I just wondered if, maybe, we could forget about all this and give it another go? I’ll work for you again… and I’ll do a better job than this guy.”

He gestured disparagingly at Marco with a thumb. The smaller boy bridled angrily, but said nothing.

“And then I thought maybe you could let my friend go?” he said hopefully, taking a step towards Daniele.

Ettore looked almost impressed. “And there was I, thinking you’d abandoned him,” he replied. “But no, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.”

Daniele stared at Giacomo, with no idea how this was going to play out. Was this the only help that was coming? Hadn’t Giacomo only managed to get himself captured as well?

“Oh,” Giacomo said, feigning disappointment. “I thought you’d probably say that. Worth a try, I guess.” He paused, then he glanced back up at Ettore, his dark eyes determined. “Thing is, though, it’s over. You’re done.”

Ettore scowled. “What do you mean?”

“The police are on their way,” Giacomo replied. “You’ll be surrounded any minute.”

Ettore stared at him. He looked like he wanted to disbelieve what he was being told, but there was something in Giacomo’s implacable stare that brought him up short.

“Check it out, Filippo,” Ettore muttered.

“But, zio…” Filippo said uncertainly.

“Do it.”

Filippo swallowed, nodded and then walked out of the room. There was another clatter from the direction of the front door, then Daniele saw the young man moving past the windows outside. He had just turned the corner when there was a loud thud, a muffled cry, and then silence.

“Come on out, Neri!” shouted a voice.

Ettore cursed loudly. “Grab the kid,” he shot at Antonio.

Antonio advanced on Daniele and pulled him roughly from his chair, placing a meaty hand around his neck. “No sudden moves, pretty boy,” he said.

Ettore grabbed Giacomo roughly by the arm and pulled a small kitchen knife from a block on the mucky worktop, pointing it at Giacomo’s throat. “Walk,” he commanded.

Fearfully, Daniele led the way. Antonio held onto him, with one hand pulling his arms painfully behind his back and the other still at his throat. Ettore and Giacomo followed. Marco quailed as they passed, but remained where he was; nobody paid him the slightest attention.

The odd procession crept out through the doors and along the front of the house. Daniele squinted in the sudden sunlight, which dazzled him as it shone between the wavering leaves of the grapevines.

Nothing could quite have prepared him for the sight that greeted them when they stepped into the courtyard.

Filippo was lying squirming on the ground, pinned by the combined weight of Toto and Michele. Toto stared up at them, his intense dark eyes blazing. It must have been he who had shouted.

“Let the kids go,” he called. “The Carabinieri will be on your doorstep by now. You can’t win this.”

“Not likely, kid,” Ettore shot back.

“Do you think we aren’t serious?” Toto shouted.

Daniele could feel Antonio squirming anxiously. “I don’t know, boss,” he said. “I don’t think they’d have come here without backup.”

“Run, then, you coward,” Ettore growled. “See if I care.”

Antonio’s nerve broke. Suddenly, the pressure left Daniele’s arms and neck and he watched, massaging his throat, as Antonio fled across the courtyard and made for the stairs. He was just about to round the corner under the grapevines when he seemed to collide with something solid, and fell sprawling back down into the courtyard, his greasy hair flying up into the air. Looming out of the shadows, Enzo Palmeri walked down the stairs after him, lifted him bodily by the lapels of his leather jacket and slammed him against the wall of the house.

“Didn’t I warn you not to show your face in this town again, Toni?” he growled.

Daniele turned towards Ettore. He still had the other boy in his clutches, the small kitchen knife pointed directly at his throat. Giacomo’s dark eyes were fearful.

“Please, signore,” Daniele begged, “just let him go!”

There were more footsteps on the stairs, followed by an audible gasp.

“I think you’d better do what he says, Neri.”

Daniele looked up. The first person he saw was Leggero, the Carabinieri chief, who was standing at the foot of the stairs with one hand on the pistol in his gun belt. Behind him, looking on in horror, were Daniele’s parents, accompanied by Emilia. It must have been Patrizia who had gasped.

“You…” Ettore rasped incredulously. “You can’t do this.”

“You shouldn’t have dragged children into your wretched scheme,” Leggero replied. “I warned you, didn’t I? The boy was not to be harmed. Now, let him go. My men will be here any moment.”

Ettore cursed loudly and cast the knife to the broken concrete, releasing his grip on Giacomo’s arm. Daniele dragged his friend away at once and pulled him into a desperate hug. Giacomo gripped him back, breathing heavily. He could feel his friend’s heart pounding.

Leggero stepped forward determinedly, grabbed Ettore’s arms and placed them in handcuffs. “Gentlemen, if you please?” he said, addressing Enzo, Toto and Michele. Toto and Michele dragged Filippo to his feet, and the seven of them filed away up the steps. Patrizia, Paolo and Emilia drew back respectfully, allowing them plenty of room to pass, then the three of them almost tumbled down the steps in their hurry to reach Daniele and Giacomo.

“Daniele, what the hell…?” Paolo blurted out. “What on Earth has been going on here?”

“Are you all right, caro?” Patrizia asked; she was as white as a sheet.

Daniele nodded. “I’m fine,” he replied.

Emilia shot between them like a bullet and threw herself onto Daniele and Giacomo, hugging them both. “You made it,” she cried.

“Thanks to you,” Daniele replied. “If it weren’t for you, I just… don’t know…”

He burst into tears.

* * *

By the time they returned to the road, Ettore, Filippo and Antonio had already been carted off by Leggero and his men. They were met by Toto and Michele, who were just sending Enzo on his way. Toto was shaking Enzo’s hand.

“Thanks again, Enzo,” he was saying. “I hope this is the end of it.”

“I reckon so,” Enzo grunted, swinging onto the seat of his Vespa scooter. He cast Daniele one last scornful look. “How many times are you going to make us save your life, kid?”

Daniele offered him an embarrassed smile. “Thanks, Enzo,” he replied.

Enzo shook his head and set off up the road.

Patrizia and Paolo were staring from one guilty face to another.

“I think you’ve all got some serious explaining to do,” Paolo said.

There was a shuffle of quiet footsteps and Marco appeared at the top of the stairway, hands in his jacket pockets. He looked back uncomfortably as seven pairs of eyes stared at him, then made as if to walk past them. As he passed Giacomo, he paused.

“Sorry, Giaco,” he muttered.

“You told them Dani was betraying them,” Giacomo said furiously.

“Not exactly…” Marco protested. “I just told them what I saw.”

“Get out of here,” Giacomo muttered.

Marco’s shoulders drooped. “Can you forgive me?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Giacomo replied.

Marco shrugged and turned away, retreating back towards the village. Perhaps, Daniele thought, he couldn’t bear to have them overtake him as he walked home.

“I guess we have a lot to talk about,” Paolo said, “but there’s no sense in doing it here.” He sighed wearily. “I think we could probably all use a drink.”

Daniele was more than ready to move on; he didn’t think he’d be coming back to Sambuco for a while.

Paolo had brought his taxi, apparently called out of service to attend the family crisis, so he, Patrizia and Emilia piled back inside. Daniele asked if he could bring his bike, which was still hidden behind the log pile, and Giacomo opted to ride with him. He pedalled back into town with Giacomo’s arms round his waist, preceded by Toto and Michele on their Vespa scooters like a guard of honour.

* * *

They debriefed at a bar in the cathedral square, pulling three tables together so they could sit as a group. All around them, the life and buzz of a quiet June afternoon in Ravello continued as if nothing unusual had happened. Coffee cups chinked, the pigeons pecked for crumbs and the cicadas churred heartily in the umbrella pines.

Daniele and Giacomo told their story, with contributions here and there from Toto and Michele. Patrizia and Paolo, who had been acting rather coolly towards the two older boys, warmed to them again when they heard how they had advised Daniele and his friends to keep their heads down and wait.

“We were working on a plan,” Michele explained, “a more subtle one, but after Dani got himself into trouble we had to improvise.”

Daniele offered him a shamefaced smile.

Emilia took up the tale. She described how she had raced to fetch Giacomo and how the two of them, after trying Michele’s house and finding nobody at home, had raced to Salvatore’s shop to raise Toto. It was Toto and Michele who had called in Daniele’s parents, and Patrizia and Paolo had practically dragged Leggero from the police station after they heard about the threat to the two boys.

Toto and Michele also explained what they could about the counterattacks that had been taking place.

“It was mainly Enzo and me who chased off the attackers,” Toto said, “but sometimes there were other guys too. We had a whole network growing. I sort of hope we can keep it up… the communication, I mean.”

“I didn’t know there were so many heroes in this town,” Paolo said dubiously.

Toto looked a little shamefaced. “What else could we do? With no help from the police… I bet it takes several more months before the provincial headquarters do anything about Leggero.”

“He came through in the end,” Daniele said.

“Too little, too late,” Toto replied simply.

Patrizia exhaled slowly. “I don’t know whether to be proud of you all, or whether to be furious.”

“We’re all safe, Mamma, and the protection racket’s over,” Daniele said.

Patrizia nodded. “And, that, I couldn’t be more thankful for,” she said, and she beckoned Daniele in for a hug.

“Oh, crap…” Giacomo said suddenly, his attention distracted.

Elena Agnello had just arrived in the square; she was wheeling a small suitcase in from the tunnel that led out to the bus stops.

“I’d better go and talk to her,” Giacomo said. He got up from his chair and hurried over to greet her as she crossed the square. They embraced, and then he began talking to her earnestly. She sank down onto the cathedral steps, looking pale.

“She had no idea at all?” Paolo asked, looking on curiously.

Daniele shook his head. “No.”

“The poor woman,” Patrizia breathed.

Daniele and Emilia exchanged a glance. He felt they had lingered long enough, and he sensed she felt the same.

“Can we go, Mamma?” Daniele asked. “After everything that’s happened today, it’d be nice to just… hang out… for a while.”

Patrizia looked thoughtfully back at him. “All right, caro,” she said after a while, “but I’d like you back home by five o’clock at the latest, please. We need to sit down and have a talk about you being open with us as you always used to be.”

Daniele took the rebuke with good grace. “Yes, Mamma.”

Paolo nodded. “See you later, champ.”

Daniele and Emilia adjourned to their favourite stone bench under the shade of the umbrella pines. After a few minutes, Giacomo joined them; they watched as Elena tottered unsteadily off up the avenue of oleanders next to the cathedral.

“Will your mother be okay?” Daniele asked.

Giacomo nodded. “I think she will,” he said with a smile, “after she’s had a lie down for a few weeks.”

Emilia scowled. “It’s all right for you both,” she said, “you’ve both told your parents now. When I tell mine about all this, I’m totally going to be grounded until September.”

“We’ll put in a good word for you, ’milia,” Giacomo said. “Seeing as how you saved Dani’s ass and all.”

Emilia sighed and got to her feet. “I’d better get it over with,” she said. “I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow… that is, if I’m allowed to leave the house.”

“Thanks for everything, Emilia,” Daniele said earnestly.

She paused, and then glanced at him once more. “You owe me a kiss,” she said, an air of challenge playing about her eyes. “I wouldn’t do all that for just anyone.”

She waved and headed for the tree-lined street in the corner of the square. Daniele watched her go for a moment; when he turned back to his friend, the other boy was smirking.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“Ah… it was nothing,” Daniele replied. “You know she’s not…”

Giacomo placed an arm about his shoulders, cutting him off. “I know, Dani,” he said.

Daniele glanced at his fingernails in embarrassment. “About us…” he began awkwardly.

“It’s cool,” Giacomo said. “I don’t think I… I mean, well, I don’t even really know.” He crossed arms with Daniele and clutched his hand, curling their arms at the elbow. “But you saved me today, and I’m never going to forget that.”

“Thanks, Giaco,” Daniele said. “You saved me, too.”

“What are friends for?” Giacomo said. “In the end, that’s what really matters, isn’t it?”

“Totally.”

Giacomo’s mouth quirked in a smile. “And you know how friends show their appreciation?” he said.

“How?” Daniele asked, a smile spreading slowly across his own face.

“Like this,” Giacomo said, and he pounced again. Daniele shrieked and they rolled off the bench together, wrestling, their high laughter mingling with the scraping of the cicadas and the babble of conversation in the sunny cathedral square.

-End-