Chapter Text
"Caro Luca,
Hey, how are you? I've been thinking, and I realised that- get this, it's genius- I could row faster if I was stronger, so I started to-"
"Caro Luca,
Hi, I hope this got to you in good time, I've really got a question I have to desperately ask- can other fish-"
"Caro Luca,
Hey! It was my birthday- I'm fifteen, Signor Marcovaldo bought me this huge knife-"
Luca hummed to himself as he trifled through the pile of letters that had built up over these passing months, skimming over them as he liked to from time to time. They brought up hazy images of Alberto's likeness, colour splattered across his barely discernible features, him lazily lying in the summer sun, sweating off the heat. Luca smiled to himself and laughed a little as he read over the passages, tales of harpooning huge fish, deep-sea diving, endless mouthfuls of gelato and sleeping under the vast expanse of the clear Portorossan night sky.
He sighed a contented sigh, feeling somewhere far away for a moment, and he placed down the stack of papers.
The next day passed by for Luca, and then the next, school rolling through the end of year tests and then the days of just screwing around under the Ligurian sun with very little curriculum to teach; the hot weather put the children's minds in such a fuzz, it'd be a waste to try and get them to work, anyway. He'd come home to tall pitchers of sweet and sour lemonade crafted lovingly by Giula's mom, and he'd gulp it down after a long day of running around in the summer heat. He especially enjoyed, at this time of year, the pool in Genova, but despite all the delights he found right where he was Luca couldn't help but let the heat remind him of the thing he had been waiting all year to do; return to Portorosso.
He had played the scene over and over in his head so much now it felt as clear as a memory, much like the hazy, thrown together experience of life he'd been having- everything seemed to blend together for him, the overload of the busy Genovan experience sometimes too much for him. He'd step off from the train, and without even being able to take in a breath he'd have his family swarmed around him, and Giula would be off to the side hugging her father and greeting him warmly. His mom would hound him with questions about what happened in Genova, and his dad would pipe up every now and then, happy enough to just be there with them in that precious moment. And, last of all, after they had both seen their family, there Alberto would be waiting off to the side; still the same Alberto, their Alberto, and Giula and him would envelop him in a hug. He thought that moment would make him happiest of them all, despite himself. He knew he'd finally be at home, and at peace.
His head buzzed with the imagery, playing it on repeat as if it would materialise and become reality if he saw it in his mind's eye long enough. Luca had it down to every little detail, so much so that he found whenever he took pencil to paper to draw that's exactly what he envisioned, him and Alberto across from one another on the platform with the harsh sun casting shadows between them, emphasising the space. Right now, the boy saw it would make sense to put the image onto paper, or even canvas- Giula's mom always talked about how that helped her "empty her busy head", whatever that meant.
It was late in the evening now, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, and Luca found himself carried by his feet to the room where Giula's mom painted in her spare time, all of her art supplies still laid out haphazardly, and definitely not at all in colour order. A sink sat in the corner filled with palettes soaking in soapy water, and in the middle of room stood a worn wooden easel, paint caked onto the carpentry and a fresh blank canvas sat in its intended place- ready for the next day. Luca got to work right away, finding pleasure in letting the time roll by as he put paint onto canvas. He didn't know what he was doing, really, and by the end of it all it looked rather like an otherworldly version of the crystal clear image he had in his mind, warm yellows and oranges comprising the image and muddying the people's features. It bordered the line between being 'contemporary' and just totally sucking, and he thought his art teacher might find it hard to grade. He liked it, though. Luca thought it was the second greatest drawing he had ever seen. Quietly, he picked up the canvas and hauled it upstairs to his room, leaning it against the wall to dry; which, in the arid heat, took no time at all. Luca fell into bed, feeling exhausted and exhilerated all at once, and drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Luca woke up with the sun, and crept downstairs out of concern that he might wake the other sleeping members of the house up.
"Buongiorno, Luca. Someone seems to have left this lovely painting on my canvas, so I decided to put it up. What do you think, hm, bambino?"
Well, Luca could later report he heard it before he saw it. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he saw Giula's mom hanging up last night's painting on her dining room wall, making sure it was neatly centred between two rectangular windows with patterned green curtains.
"It's... um, nice. Buongiorno to you too."
Luca suddenly felt timid and shy, like he had some secret that had just been exposed. It was just a perfectly innocent painting, he reminded himself. No biggie, but the way Giula's mom looked at him with her knowing smile made him feel like it was something so much more substantial.
"There's a fresh tray of fruit in the living room, and some orange juice for drinking. Help yourself; I have things to do."
He nodded and thanked Giula's mom briefly before walking on through the dining room on into the living room, taking a seat on the sofa there. Unsurprisingly, there sat the fruit, laid out on the coffee table. He didn't feel too hungry, so he poured himself a glass of orange juice and sat there sipping away, head lolled to watch the sun shining outside the window.
Luca decided he had learned to like this place. The whole home was cool, quiet and relaxed, devoid of chaos, and Giula and her mom, most of the time, were pleasant housemates. There was fresh fruit and beverages, and he felt like he had everything cared for. He had felt a certain discomfort first coming here mainly because Luca was constantly reminded that he was a temporary fixture. He stayed in the guest room- at dinner, the sea monster would barely speak whereas Giula and her mom carried on and on with no end in sight, like, naturally, two people that had known one another for a very long time. He felt a little like an alien at times, but after spending months there, Luca found it more easy to settle in at home. It's why he felt bittersweet he was leaving Genova so soon.
He laughed at himself. He was thinking too deeply into this; he was definitely just homesick and missing Alberto and his family. Laying down on the couch he was sat on, he put down his glass of juice and picked up a slice of apricot, popping it into his mouth in one go and savouring it as he turned his head to stare out of the window, watching a huge flock of colourful birds flying over a bright blue sky. Sweat was collecting on his forehead, and he reached to take a drink from his orange juice to cool off.
A train horn sounded in the distance, signalling it's departure from the Genova station, and the smog it created could be seen billowing into the sky, blending into a backdrop for the flock of birds.
Summer was finally here.