Archive of Our Own ^beta

The pungent, salty smell of the ocean wafted through the streets. The summer breeze carried the scent through the small town. At this time in the morning, few were up to take it in. Down the street walked an old woman carrying a basket of fruit. She hobbled along the cobblestone, struggling a bit with the weight of the contents.

“Buon giorno, Maria!” The woman with the fruit basket said, greeting another sweeping the sidewalk. The two began in a delightful discussion, asking each other about family and trading ideas for recipes to use up the fresh fruit collected earlier that morning. The conversation quickly shifted to what they both had real interest in. In hushed tones they spoke of the small town's latest gossip. With so few residents, word travelled fast among these human channels.

Both were distracted for a moment by the appearance of another soul. The two old women looked across the narrow street and smiled, both waving to a young man making his way towards the town's only bakery.

“It’s the pastor’s boy. He's such a sweet boy.”

“Poor child, he’s not all there you know. He’s special.”

“Oh, I know, my cousin’s son is the same way. Sad, so young. And handsome too.”

“Father is a saint for raising him. I’ll pray for him.”

“Yes, all we can do is pray for him…. Did you hear who was having an affair with the butcher?”

Across the street, the smile Doppio wore to greet the women stayed plastered on his face as he continued down the street. The smile was slight and forced, but it was how he felt comfortable around other people.

Every day that he could remember he repeated the same routine. It was calming. It was familiar. Each morning he would rise with the sun to help Father prepare for his clerical duties. On weekends he would follow the man to the church where he would help to set up for mass. He spent nearly his entire weekend in the House of God. On weekdays, however, he was free to do as he pleased.

After parting ways with Father, the boy made his way through the tiny Sardinian town to the bakery. His daily voyage was always peaceful, the only others up at this hour were elderly men and women who nearly always flashed Doppio a soft, pitiful smile as they said hello to the boy. He did not often see others his age and was glad for it. He didn’t much care for the other boys, they were loud and brash. They didn’t care for other beings. They made his head hurt.

On mornings like this in the early summertime, he came across the occasional tourist. Soon they would populate the town and ruin the peace for the season. But Doppio did not mind this, he was used to it. It was what he had always known.

Once at the bakery, he opened the door of the small shop, his arrival announced by a tiny bell. He was greeted by the mouth-watering, savory scent of freshly baked delicacies. Walking through that door and being welcomed by that scent was one of his favorite experiences of the day. Often, nothing quite beat it.

“Doppio, my boy. Good morning.”

“Hi sweetie, the same as usual?”

“Mhmm.” Doppio confirmed and smiled awkwardly, feeling his cheeks getting hot and beginning to redden.

The town was small, every resident was a member of Father’s parish. Everyone knew each other. Everyone knew Doppio. The baker and his wife had a soft spot for the young boy, they often gave him one pastry more than he asked for. They knew about Doppio. Everyone knew about Doppio.

“We’re just getting a fresh batch from the out of the oven. Wait a minute and you’ll get the best pastry of the day. Alright, sweetie? I’ll be right back.” The baker’s wife smiled and followed her husband into the kitchen, making her way to retrieve Doppio’s order. She had had some pastries already out to sell but for the boy she would give him the freshest possible. It was a little thing she could do.

Waiting at the counter Doppio felt a bit awkward, mornings like this were not his favorite. He preferred to be in and out. Wringing his hands, he looked around the room, desperate for something to do. There was an American couple at one of the small tables near the window raving too loudly about delicious the authentic Italian cuisine was. Both fawning over the quality of coffee and pastry and indulging in more than the authentic Italian breakfast would allow.

The only other person in the small establishment was a woman sitting at a shabby table in the corner of the room. She was staring at Doppio. Their eyes met and he darted away to look at the ground, feeling his cheeks begin to redden again.

Why is she staring at me? I’ve never seen her. Doppio questioned himself.

As he heard the baker’s wife return, he risked another look at the woman. She had been distracted by the American couple. Doppio noticed that her cup was empty, she hadn’t been drinking anything for a while. She had dark hair and a pretty face though he could tell that she had been through much more than any other woman her age. There were dark circles under her eyes, telling of much stress and many sleepless nights. There was something about her that felt familiar, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Perhaps she was a foreigner who had visited the parish before.

The woman returned her eyes to their fixed point on Doppio, again he quickly averted his own. This time, with an excuse. He reached over the counter to retrieve the bag from the baker’s wife. He stuffed his hand in a pocket, fishing around for money to give her.

“Oh honey, you don’t have to.” The baker’s wife shook her head, refusing the boy’s payment.

“What? N-no, I can’t take this for free. Here, I have the money right here—“

“No, Doppio. Take it!” The woman smiled sweetly at the boy. “Father gave a lovely mass yesterday, this is for your work in helping him. It’s on me.” Anyone else might have been able to pick up the trace of pity in her voice. To Doppio, this was how he was usually addressed.

Doppio smiled and let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Thank you very much.” He stuttered with an awkward little bow. “H-have a good day.”

He turned to leave the bakery, very consciously keeping his head down so as not to meet the eyes of the strange woman once again. He pushed the door open and heard the bell, this time announcing his departure.

Once outside he stopped to open up the brown bag. Looking inside, he noticed two pastries rather than one and smiled wide. He was aware of the way everyone treated him because of his relation to Father, but he didn’t mind in instances like this. He pulled one of the crescent shaped pastries out of the bag and took a bite before continuing on down the street. A car passed by and a man waved to him. He waved back, a bit late, but was fine with that. Behind him he could hear the car driving away, the chatter of the old women across the street, and a bell again. Strange, he thought, I didn’t see anyone heading inside.

He made his way down the street, mouth full of the warm, flaky pastry and sweet custard filling. His mind was blank, his thoughts were focused only on what was around him. He took in the sights, smells, and sounds of his home. He relished in the fact that they were the same as yesterday, and the same as the days before. A bit down the street a small tourist group disturbed his familiar. A man and woman were arguing over directions while the woman held a sleepy young girl. He surmised that it was a British family and passed them without engaging, choosing rather to enjoy his breakfast than to help the loud foreigners.

He licked his fingers clean of the sweet custard as he approached his destination. Crossing the street, he made his way onto the beach at the opposite side. There was no one there, it was still too early for the spot to be populated. Doppio was sure every day to come at this time in the morning so that this would be the case. He walked down the sand and over to a wall of rocks that separated the town from the beach. He knew just the spot where he would not be disturbed. There was a flat patch of rocks closed in by the taller rock walls that was just high enough above the water to keep him from getting wet. It was his own little private alcove where he was able to be close to the sea and away from people.

He liked it here. The rocks provided shade from the morning sun and gave him a sense of being closed in, of being protected from the outside. Occasionally different creatures would make an appearance. More often than not crabs scurried around the crevices of the rocks but sometimes someone new and exciting would appear. The week before he had seen a frog.

Doppio sat on the ground and pulled the second pastry out of the bag. Taking a bite, he looked around to see who else occupied his little spot today. As usual, crabs scuttled around the rocks. He turned his attention to the ocean, chewing excitedly as he watched the waves lap up against the rocks just out of his reach.

Each day he did this. As he stared out into the sea he was able to escape his mind and travel anywhere else. Sometimes he imagined living a different life as a different person. He pictured himself on some other coast surrounded by friends, his mother and father not far off. Most days these impossible happy thoughts did not creep into his mind, however. Most days he simply enjoyed the noisy quiet with empty thoughts. Today was one of those days.

“Doppio.” Someone called out. He felt he had imagined it, perhaps it was the remnants of another day’s dream.

“Doppio.” No, this was real.

“Doppio.” His ears pricked up, he stopped chewing. Slowly he turned his head to the direction of the voice. Fear rushed into his system. He had never told anyone about his spot. The whole town may have known him, but they did not know him here.

He met dark, tired eyes. Eyes that told of a shadowy past, one that would not be so openly talked about. After a few moments of shock, he recognized those eyes as belonging to the woman from the bakery.

“Doppio.” She said again. The boy dropped his half-eaten pastry. He looked around for a way to escape the situation, to flee from this stranger.

“Don’t you know who I am, my sweet Doppio?” The woman said, taking a step closer.

“G-get back. I don’t know you!” The boy managed to say, crawling away from the woman. He felt himself get closer to the wall of rocks behind him. A searing pain crept up in his head and he felt as though it were splitting in two. Each time the woman said his name, each time she opened her mouth, it worsened.

“Oh, Doppio, you don’t recognize me?” With this the boy jumped to his feet, his back was against the rocks.

“You look just like your father. Same hair, same eyes. I hated your father. I couldn’t stand looking at him.” She continued to get closer to the boy.

“S-stay back! I don’t have parents! If you want to talk to Father I-I can bring you to him.”

“Oh Doppio,” she laughed mischievously. “Don’t you know who I am, Doppio? I’m out now, Doppio.”

The woman was close enough to reach out and touch his face. Doppio was panicked, he cradled his head with his hand, trying to hold back the intensifying pain. His forehead was wet with sweat, his breathing was ragged. He was unable to move his legs.

The woman reached her hand out slowly.

“I didn’t want you Doppio.” She said now, louder. She was wearing a deep frown.

“Why are you alive? How are you alive?” Her fingers were mere centimeters from grazing his cheek.

Doppio bit down on his lip, shocking himself into movement. He evaded her hand and brushed by the woman, moving quickly to get away from her. He picked up his left foot, preparing to run from this spot, from this woman. Before he could take a step, he was pulled back. She had grabbed a hold of his arm and was gripping it tightly. He could feel her fingernails digging into his skin.

“I’m your mother Doppio, don’t you know me?”

The boy yelled in pain, holding his head with the arm he still had control of.

“Get off of me. Get away from me!” He pulled away from his mother’s grip with an unexpected strength. He tumbled down onto the stony ground, hitting his head and drawing blood. He looked up at the woman behind him. She was standing still, staring down at him with wild, angry eyes.

Doppio’s own eyes widened, and he hurriedly returned to his feet. Without looking back he walked at a brisk pace away from his little alcove. The pain had subsided a bit, but still was lingering. He held his head in his hands.

Doppio.

He had made it halfway up the beach before noticing that the woman was trailing him.

“Doppio, my little Doppio. Won’t you give your mother a hug and kiss?” He continued walking.

“Don’t you want to be with me?” The edge of the beach was near, the road back to town was in sight.

“Doppio, you ruined my life! They tried to give me extra time on my sentence because of you.” The intense pain returned. He winced. Why is this happening to me?

“Doppio you look just like your father.” She spit out the words like venom. The pain was overbearing, he felt his eyesight falter for a second. The road was just a few paces away.

“Let’s you and me take a dip into the ocean, Doppio. We can spend the rest of time together as mother and son.”

Finally, he reached the road. A car was driving in towards the town, in another minute it would pass where he stood. He walked toward the direction of the car, lifting his arms to get the driver’s attention. Suddenly, he felt a tug on his arm. His mother had grabbed a hold of him with a grip more intense than her last. He turned to look at her. Her eyes were those of a wild animal. His vision faltered again. The pain was overwhelming. He wondered if he was going to die. What is happening?

He turned to see the car coming closer. He opened his mouth to yell for help, but nothing came out. He could not function, the pain was all too much. He looked again at his mother’s face. He felt no connection to her. Her face brought him nothing but pain. Agonizing pain. He didn’t think he would escape this.

Doppio, I’m here Doppio.

His vision blurred. His mother’s face twisted into an indistinguishable array of colors. The smell of the beach became sharp and unwelcoming. A ringing in his ears grew louder until he could no longer hear the sound of the waves.

Then it all went dark.

When he came to, he was staring at the ocean. There was no one in sight, he simply watched the waves as they lapped up onto the shore. The ebb and flow made for a constant, soothing rhythm.

He wondered if what had just happened was a strange dream. His days did not go that way, his days were routine and quiet. But then, how had he gotten here.

He lifted a hand to his head. There was no pain but there was blood.

He looked to his right and saw an empty street, there was no one coming and likely wouldn’t be any time soon. People didn’t come this way often, especially this early in the morning. Once lazy tourists woke and enjoyed their authentic Italian breakfast they would flock to the beach.

He looked to his left. There was a car stopped haphazardly in the middle of the road blocking both ways of traffic. It seemed like no one was inside.

He slowly made his way over to it, approaching from the passenger side. He saw the driver leaned over the steering wheel, it seemed he had passed out. He couldn’t recognize the man with his face hidden.

The car was wrecked. The windshield was shattered. The hood was dented.

Stepping around to the front of the car he saw the woman face down on the pavement— his mother. She was bloodied and scraped, one leg was mangled and seemed to be broken. Looking at the damage on the car he deduced that she had been hit.

He walked slowly over to her, crouching down to meet her. He turned her onto her back. She was awake, her eyes wild with fear. Her mouth was crudely sewn shut by a thick string, what Doppio thought seemed to be a shoelace. She tried to speak, tried to yell, but couldn’t get anything out. Only muffled groans escaped.

Her hands were tied with what looked to be another shoelace. Her legs were beyond movement.

He stumbled back, not sure what to make of the situation. He looked around for someone, anyone. No one. Despite everything, he was not afraid. He did not feel the same sense of fear and anxiety as he did earlier when this strange woman approached him. Oddly, he felt rather calm.

Doppio looked to the driver in the car who was still leaning over the steering wheel. He made his way over, reaching in through the door that was ajar. He grabbed a hold of the driver’s shoulder, shaking the man.

“Hey, hey are you awake? W-what happened here?” He continued to shake the man. A bit of nervousness crept into his voice.

He shook the driver a bit harder, hoping to jolt the man awake. With the sudden movement, the driver rolled out of the car and onto the ground. On his face was a gory wound. Damage that could not possibly have been caused by the accident. It appeared as if he had been bludgeoned. Beneath the blood Doppio recognized the man. It was the town butcher. He had never particularly liked the man.

Doppio stepped back. He instinctively reached for his head. From inside the car he could hear a ringing. A phone. He stepped over the body and leaned into the car, spotting the phone in the cupholder. Picking it up he noticed how odd it was, it felt almost cylindrical. Must be a new model. This guy always had foreign stuff. He lifted the phone to his ear, it was cold.

He waited for a few seconds for the person on the other end. Just as he opened his mouth to begin to speak, he was interrupted by a voice.

“Hello Doppio.”

“H-hello.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“No.”

The voice on the other end was one Doppio had never heard. But it felt familiar.

“I’ve been with you all of these years. I’ve been looking out for you all along. I bet you’ve felt me around, no? When you get stressed and don’t know what to do.”

Doppio knew what the man was talking about. He had always felt he had a guardian who helped him through his sorry life. He thought maybe it was an angel like Father had told him. He had hoped it was his mother watching him from somewhere.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Good, sweet Doppio. I’ll take care of us both. I’ll be the boss now.

“…”

“Do you know what happened here?”

“No.”

“That woman tried to hurt you, she tried to hurt us both. I took care of her. Now, we have to get rid of her. Can you do that for me, Doppio?”

“Yes, boss. What do you need me to do?”

“Keep her somewhere no one will find her. Father is fixing up the house, let’s use that."

“Ok, boss.”

“That’s my Doppio.”

“Boss, what happened?”

“Oh, you see, I took care of the woman and got her off of us but if I were to leave this man, he would hurt us next. We can’t have any witnesses—"

“Got it.”

“My adorable little Doppio. We make an excellent team.”