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"Aldo, do you remember when we first met?" Candlelight flickered across the faces of the two older cardinals, catching on the intricate pieces of the nearby chessboard and glasses of wine.
"Oh, do I. It was my first summer out, and I carried myself with such aggressive energy to compensate - I'm surprised you didn't run and hide after the first few words! You were so mousey and nervous, it felt like I was taller than you most of the time."
"I had a lot of spiritual growth to pursue before I could carry myself with the proper poise." Thomas cracked a wry smile before hiding it behind his drink, taking another sip.
"This is a good bottle - what's the vintage?" "1974," Aldo said with a pointed look, "sometimes the lord works in mysterious ways."
"50 years... I still remember..."
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Thomas got out of the car, shielding his eyes from the sun. It was midsummer in Positano, the small coastal town in Italy, and while the ocean breeze did provide some relief, it was still sweltering in the late afternoon heat. Their bus was delayed by an unexpectedly strong morning summer storm, having arrived in Italy a few days before on the yearly language trip from their college and had encountered several road closures, forcing them to arrive in Positano later than expected. Several of the other boys had already opted to go shirtless, but Thomas was too nervous for that. Thankfully, there was a small stand further out along the promenade that had a large ice cream cone attached to its colorful parasol. He started walking towards it, glad to be free of the car's stale air and sexist jokes of his peers. He had hoped those signed up for the trip would share his interest in the arts or natural beauty of the cliffs, but the only "natural beauty" they were interested in were the local girls. Looking out along the water, he was left speechless by the sun glinting off the waves and the sails of boats on the horizon. He wasn't sure how all this was lost on the rest of them, but he already felt more at peace. Noticing increased traffic around him, he hurried towards the stand, eager to get something to cool himself down.
Arriving at the back of the line, he found himself standing behind a shorter boy about his age wearing neon pink shorts and tapping his foot impatiently. The boy glanced back at him, and Thomas fought the urge to shrink back under the firm gaze. "Ciao, Turisto. Quale gusto ti piace?" Thomas blinked, caught off guard that this stranger was speaking to him. He swallowed his surprise before responding with what he hoped was at least passable Italian (his last class having been in year 12). "Buona giornata signore. Mi piacciono molti sapori, ah... cosa... cosa vendono qui?" "Signore, really?" the boy laughed in accented English, "how old do you think I am? You're what, 20 at most?" "Oh, 19 actually. You don't look old, I've just never spoken Italian to an Italian before - erring on the side of formal was the wrong move, I see." The boy laughed. "Your English is very good, uh...?" "Aldo Bellini, at your service." The boy, Aldo, looked him up and down. "Look at you, all starry-eyed and fresh off the plane. Welcome to Italy! The views are beautiful, the wine is the best in the world." "Thank you - my name is Thomas Lawrence. I'm very much enjoying the country, and..." Thomas stalled, unsure how to proceed, but before the conversation could continue, it was Aldo's turn to order. Breezily, he ordered two scoops of Blue Moon on a waffle cone, then two scoops in a bowl, handing the bowl to Thomas. He accepted, somewhat confusedly. "Before you say anything, Thomas, Blue Moon is objectively the best flavor of ice cream, if you insist on getting ice cream and not gelato. It's simple, summery, and refreshing." "I... okay, thank you, I suppose. I do have to disagree with you though - I'm quite partial to Rocky Road." "Rocky Road?? Go eat a brownie! That's barely even ice cream."
They wandered the pier, chatting and getting to know each other a little better - Thomas on his group trip, but disappointed by the other students' lack of interest in the rich art and history of the region, and Aldo visiting his cousins, frustrated by his perception of their lack of vision. "It's 1974, we're young, I want to travel! I want to see what's out there! But they're perfectly happy lounging on the beach like every summer." "I can certainly understand the desire to explore," Thomas began, glancing at Aldo's arm. A trail of blue snaked across his skin, the ice cream having begun to melt. Thomas swallowed, realizing he had paused for longer than logical. Looking up, he realized Aldo's eyes were on his, with a strange curious look in them. Silently, Aldo raised his arm, and licked the dessert off, keeping his eyes on Thomas all the while. Something about this felt off for Thomas, but he couldn't pull his eyes away. Aldo spoke first. "So, Thomas. Speaking of exploring..."
They were interrupted by someone tapping Thomas on the shoulder - the group leader. "Thomas, we're heading to a restaurant for lunch. Are you coming?" "Oh, I..." He glanced at Aldo. "I was hoping to see a few more of the historical sites here first." "Suit yourself. You know where to find us - don't be late for the bus!" He headed off to make an effort at rounding up the other young men on the tour. Thomas turned back to face his new friend, the movement causing the sun to glint off of the crucifix he wore under his shirt. Aldo's expression seemed to change for a moment subtly, but quickly returned to neutral. He looked back at Aldo sheepishly.
"Time's up for you?" "Not exactly - we only have one day in the city, and I was looking to catch the bus up to Grotto La Porta - the old cave." "Tough luck, my new friend. That road's blocked from the storm - a few fruit trees were knocked down." Thomas' face fell, and he sighed heavily. "Don't worry! There's plenty of other historical sites!" "No, it's not that - with the bus being down there's no way I can convince anyone to escort me there, since all the other boys are only here for the nightlife on the beach. Our guide will have to remain here and play translator for the Americans." "Ah, no problem. I'll take you! I hike up there all the time - it leads to some of the best views, and seeing the cave really makes you think about how our ancestors used to live. I for one am glad to have been born in this century, but it's interesting nonetheless." "I- really? You would do that for a total stranger?" "I would, even with your horrible taste in ice cream. Let's hope your other flavor preferences are better." "I do prefer red wine to white." "Incredibile, ci siamo! Now come on, we've got to make it before sunset. Trust me!" Aldo began jogging lightly in the direction of the hills. Thomas, looking around, found the rest of his group was paying him no mind, so he steeled himself and jogged after his new extroverted friend.
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The hill had begun to grow steep as they walked and chatted, learning more about each other. "So... altar boy, huh?" Aldo asked, his voice taking a somewhat odd tone. "Well, I wasn't an altar boy," Thomas responded drily, "but yes, I am Catholic. Are you? I figured all Italians must be." "I- yes, but I... I've been thinking a lot lately about my path." "Your path?" "In life, I mean. I guess you could say I've been struggling lately, and I've found a lot of solace by engaging more with the church." Thomas nodded, encouraging the other man to continue. "Well, music, for example. I've always found myself feeling most connected to God when I hear the voices of the congregation all raised as one, united in purpose, body and spirit. It felt reassuring to be swept up in that moment, to leave my earthly worries behind." Aldo glanced to his side, blushing and looking away with a scowl after he noticed Thomas' curious gaze on him. It felt too intense, like Thomas might see through him, to the things he wasn't saying. The trail grew steeper still, and the young men spent a few moments in silence before Thomas spoke up once more. "It sounds like something that's really helping you. I'm glad you have that experience to rely on for comfort." He paused, climbing up a particularly rocky patch. "I've... never really felt like that. I've struggled with connecting to others in that way. I can understand what you're saying, but for me religion has always been more about what I can find in the world. These places that feel like they reach out over centuries and connect us to those who came before, to the universal human spirit. God has always been less of a 'who' and more of a 'what' for me..." He trailed off, looking over at Aldo to make sure he wasn't scandalized. A small smile grew across his face as he realized that Aldo wasn't angry, but was listening intently. "I want to find those places and experiences that remind me of what it is to be alive. To see the motion of the waves, the beauty of life within, and the stars reflecting off the water. Something like..." The two stopped, having reached the mouth of the cave. "Something like that?" Aldo said, tapping Thomas on the shoulder. Turning around, he marveled at the horizon set out before them.
A tapestry of pinks, reds, oranges, and tinges of purple stretched out across the sky as the sun began to sink beneath the waves. Ships were coming in to port, lights glittering off the waves, and the city's nightlife began to shed colorful lights against the surrounding trees and countryside. As they both sat against a rock, catching their breath, Aldo put his arm around Thomas' shoulder, and after the initial jolt of surprise, Thomas returned the gesture. They sat like that until the sun vanished and until the stars above began to twinkle in the night sky.
Thomas was in awe of the view seen from this mountainside historical site, and pictured men from ages past staring out at the same unbelievable sight of the previously pink and red hued sky. How did they interpret the light hitting their eyes? He had read of the "wine dark sea" and often wondered at how our senses changed throughout human evolution. How no man could ever be truly sure that his perception of an object, a situation, even a word is the same as any other's. He felt a familiar
loneliness creeping up on him before he remembered himself, and glanced at the boy to his left. Aldo's face was cast in shadow as the moon began to emerge, but it did not make him any less handsome. His brown hair was cropped short, and his eyes shone with a fierceness that Thomas couldn't help but admire. Not yet ready to fully face what he was feeling, he turned away in time to see moon rise high enough to coat the sea in a soft glow.
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Together they sat, silent but content. The waves gently lapping against the beach far below. This late, the moonlight seemed to make the stones of the mountain glow a pale blue. Thomas felt like his head was spinning. He'd never felt this way before. The boy next to him seemed so sure of himself, so full of vibrant energy. He wanted that for himself, rather than blending into the background as always. He wanted people to see him, and for his presence to matter on a personal level, rather than just filling a role. In that moment, he decided that he wouldn't let Aldo out of his life after today. There was too much to learn, too much joy to be felt.
As they arrived back in the town, out of breath from the day's exertion, they exchanged addresses and a firm handshake with a promise to write to each other. And write they did, month after month, year after year...
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The two older men shared a laugh as they broke from their reverie. "I'd say our friendship has aged as well as this wine, my dear Aldo." "Even better than the wine." Aldo quipped as he leaned in,
sharing a quick and gentle kiss with his companion. Their hands intertwined as they continued talking deep into the night, looking out at the same Italian night sky.