A Love Story in Italy
Many of times I have recollections of her hazel eyes, as a faint portrait of her face
comes within view. Though I am far distant from her now, it is not little that I think of
her. Often, on serene summer nights I ponder that once kept intrigue; the captivation that
held me within a dreamless ecstasy. Across the constant movement of thought still lies
her silhouette, and in the sea of twilight, at the drifting of a cool aromatic breeze I dream
Ella. As I recall I first met her on a visit to the small Italian city of Naples. Although it
had been some years ago, I still remember just how she looked then. The vivid scene is
still on my mind. From the beginning I never fancied encountering her for the search of
adventure ran profuse in my mind.
As a tourist I wanted to get out and explore my surroundings. Since I had a month
away from school back in the United States, I thought this would be the perfect
opportunity to learn something new. My tourist guide, a man by the name of John
Reynolds, apparently a middle aged man with a small stature… having a noticeable bald
spot on the top of his head… gray shrieks of hair remaining on each side, led a small
group including myself. All of the individuals present were guest with me at Italy’s finest
lodgings and resorts. On our arrival to the country and after settling in the luxurious
Grand Hotel Excelsior Victoria we became acquainted. Instant friendships were formed
thereafter; and the camaraderie was prevalent among us at the commencement of the tour.
As everyone gathered about Mr. Reynolds you could sense a controlled excitement
pervading the group. We all wanted to see what lied ahead. However, our tourist guide
made certain those other persons were in attendance prior to beginning. At last, the tour
started. Through villages and at times up hills we followed our conductor. Coming to one
particular vicinity in which possessed an unusual quaintness, the group observed the
details of the place. I particularly noticed the occupied houses elevated on hills. The
streets were also rather small, I wondered how most people there were able to make their
daily commute in cars. Upon passing historical sites Mr. Reynolds stopped everyone to
explain this aspect of our exploration. I quickly learned the irony involved with such a
peaceful and beautiful city. It was pretty much created in the midst of various wars, yet
from all outward appearances you could never tell.
Proceeding ahead there were a menagerie of villages and public eating areas becoming
quite visible to us. Fully within the limits of the small assortment of brown buildings
everyone decided to stop for a bite to eat. I wasn’t the least bit of surprise when all in the
group wanted pizza. This was the top choice for tourist, although I have heard the Italians
never really invented this famous dish.
As we all agreed the restaurant most likely suitable for us, there was no hesitation to
repair to the place of our choosing. When we reached the area we were about to walk in, I
was the last in the group; however, before entering my attention was suddenly arrested. It
was on a balmy Monday when I first fastened my eyes hard upon her. I thought to myself
she could be no more than twenty years of age, Ella that is. Her eyes met mine as she
smile to indicate a subtle attraction. She had been working in her father’s olive shop that
day, apparently standing outside waiting on someone. I just had to talk to her. I wanted to
know if she was involved in a relationship, and if not I thought, maybe she would be
disposed to taking me for a friend. I distant myself from the group I had heretofore been
keeping company with to approach her. She seemed like a perfect vision, and I yearned
to converse with this delicate rose of a bouquet, this fallen gem that somehow slipped
from heaven’s richest palace.
Of the sunlight that fell across her hair… the dye from henna leaves accentuating her
long tresses… reflected from her a tint of red slightly varied. The yellow nylon dress of
viola décor against her smooth caramel skin, lined every curve on her body. The black
high hill shoes laced around her perfect feet, her toenails elegantly painted_ as if by a
skillful pedicurist_ complemented all too well the eye shadow across her eyelids. She
held me captive, this topaz jewel. When I got to where she was standing I introduced
myself and she reciprocated by telling me her name was Ella. I then asked if she was
waiting for her boyfriend, again she smiled, and told me she was to meet her girlfriend, I
sighed for relief. Ella was not slow in perceiving that I was a foreign presence, yet
because of my mixed heritage she assumed that I was from South America instead of the
United States.
We engaged in close converse each word deepened into shades of romance, and at
the nuance of body movements I could see there was starting to develop an intense kind
of passion. A golden thread of undisclosed feelings almost tangible to the soul, I
envisioned. The conversation was natural, and it seemed like we had known each other
for a long time. I asked Ella her age as she confirmed what I already knew. Both she and I
were the same age. For about thirty minutes Ella and I talked when suddenly interrupted,
her father called her to come back into the shop. He had caught sight at what was
happening, and from the disapproval in his voice, he did not want me exchanging words
with his daughter. She hurried away, but before she left she whispered to meet her at a
certain place in the evening. I was surprised, yet I made a gesture by shaking my head to
let her know I understood her.
I then again joined the company I had been with since the early morning. The sun
had fully risen, it’s rays fell on the villages surrounding the public areas. When I entered
the Italiano Restaurant I had a smile stretched across my face. My fellow tourist began to
jest concerning me. It was evident from the chuckles and laughs that they knew what was
going on as it regarded Ella and I. There was no offense taken because as fate would have
it, I was falling in love, or was already in love. After stopping for a pizza our guide
showed us more views of the tranquil country of Naples. Finally ending our tour, all made
their way back to the hotel. Upon arriving, everyone separated to return to their rooms.
The schedule to view more sights in Naples was set for later that evening. It did not take
long before the twilight fell across the sky. Many who had not attended the exploration
earlier now was present. The group I was among went a second time, and this for
educational purposes. As for me I decided to take a shower and freshen
up, I had a date.
Following my evening meal I went to meet Ella. I met her in a public area unlike the
one I saw her in earlier. There she was her long flowing hair gently lying on her back. Just
like before she did not lack in beauty, as it was obvious to me the intoxication of
symmetry ravished my heart. This one moment we spent together led to more, and the
days were not few before she graced my lips with hers. I was transfixed in the romance
that had taken control, while the many sunsets bathed in flaming orange the wide Venice
river we sailed upon. She bedazzled me by one touch of her hand, and her fingertips
dripped with eloquence on moonlit streams. It was in secret from Ella’s father we came
in each other’s presence. From what she told me he did not like me because I did
not come from a pure Italian line, and therefore detested me. Although the intrigue from
the beginning was a taboo, I endeavored to beguile the time by holding her in a caress
embrace.
Ella and I chose to ignore the old traditions of her father that once threatened love;
and notwithstanding him forbidding our keeping company, we saw each other that
much more. Though it was premature, yet mutual her and I wanted to marry. I desired her
for my wife, but how could I pass this ethnic demarcation? To elope seemed like the
more preferred choice between her and I. The month had become shorter since I arrived
in Italy, and I was soon to leave back home. Being in Ella’s company was amazing. As it
was our amusement the time we spent with each other we would escape to the
countryside to the villa that her father owned. There in the heat of noon I would lay her
Across the fragrant scented bed, and make love to her, it seemed endlessly while her body
trembled from impassioned feelings most profound.
When all had ended, she would recline her head on my chest, her breast that hung as
grapes relaxed close to me also. Far the time was spent. In our realization of this, we
Made our way back to the city in the open square. Strange I had no inkling of a thought
that on one particular night our separation would not be like the rest, but end in a sad
irony unpredicted.
The month in Naples Italy brought wedding bells in the sweetest vision, yet the
expectation was to be disappointed. As nightfall settled in, and while sitting in the
frequented places of Italy where lovers go to enjoy a secret rendezvous Ella and I held
each other freely in the evening air. Gazing into the starry sky entwined in silence, we
eventually closed our eyes in a lover’s tide. Suddenly the romantic moment was
interrupted as Ella began to distance herself from me. As I opened my eyes, I met hers
filled with much consternation. Looking over my head behind me, she seemed to be
speechless. I turned to see what her eyes averted to, and to my surprise, it was her father
approaching us hurriedly, his face flushed with anger.
Taking her by the hand, he reprimanded her for disobeying him in interacting with
one whom he uttered was not a thoroughbred. He then warned me to stay away from his
daughter. I tried to reason with him, but he became even more irrational. Finally, all
alone in complete silence, I sorrowfully watched him lead her away, until both passed
from out of sight. I never saw Ella again. Although I made visits to her home, it was of
no avail. Her father’s servant told me either she was not present, or preoccupied with
house cleaning. At length after irritating her father with my constant yearning to see her,
I was finally told not to come back on pain of death.
I left Italy without hope of ever seeing Ella or communicating with her while
away. I had no enthusiasm in returning to the United States, for I felt I had left a piece of
Me behind. Six years has passed since I last seen Ella though, and often she crosses my
Mind. In the gloaming when I glean the breath of solitude, I pensively stare into the sky
Wondering if she thinks of me as I her. Azure hue intermingled with a soft red glow
Across the distance and nights in Naples Italy with my beloved will never be effaced from
My thoughts, for I will always remember sweet Ella.
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