50 in 50

The man grunted, a deep porcine sound, and Giulio's stomach churned. Was he really in Italy, on Capri? Then, when he was well past, the man released a reluctant "Buon gio'."

The first encounter was the worst. A few other peasants passed, some in silence, others with a good morning, and he began to feel a certain security. He himself looked like a peasant, Christ, his parents had been peasants, and he could talk Italian. This thing might work yet.

Staggering with fatigue he made the last climb up the narrow road to the opening of the piazzetta. Early as it was most of the shops were open. On the far side was a bold sign over a shop front that read FARMACIA. Below the sign were only heavy steel shutters. The pharmacy was closed.

A cold chill swept through Giulio as he realized, a little too late, why he should have waited until dawn to read the note. He was too early and, he felt, obvious and suspicious. Wasn't that policeman looking at him, chewing the toothpick and wondering who he was? Fear rattled the teeth in his head and sent him stumbling into the mouth of the nearest street. It was narrow and dark and there were steps down which he half fell. Around the first corner and into a narrower alleyway. Were there footsteps behind him? A dark storefront opened before him and he stumbled through it, blinking in the darkness.

"Si!" a voice rumbled, almost in his ear. A dark man with a two-day growth of beard stood there looking at him quizzically.

"Aspirin," Giulio said. "I need some aspirin."

"Pazzo," the man growled, the sour odor of rough wine washing out on his breath. "Get out of here."

Giulio peered into the cavernous gloom and saw the box with a few old potatoes, the crate of tomatoes next to it. "I thought this was the pharmacy," he said. So unconvincingly that he didn't even fool himself. "What time does the pharmacy open?"

"Out!" the proprietor said loudly, and made a dismissing and insulting gesture with the fingers of his right hand. Giulio went out and retraced his steps towards the piazzetta. There was no sign of the policeman, — that did not lessen his fear.

When he came back into the sunlight he saw a man with a long pole rolling up the steel shutter of the pharmacy. Giulio's heart beat rapidly as he dragged the heavy bag with him across the cobbles and towards the safety of the entrance. "Stuzzicadenti," he said as the man turned towards him.

He was young and clean-shaven and had the same suspicious eye as the greengrocer. An answer was beneath him and he just jerked his thumb towards the grocery store behind him.

"Aspirin?" Giulio asked hopefully, trying to smile and not succeeding. The young man looked him up and down slowly in economic appraisal. Apparently Giulio looked as though he could at least afford an aspirin or two. The young man shouldered the pole and silently led the way into the shop.

A fat man with a gray beard was behind the marble counter opening a package. He glanced up when Giulio entered, then turned his attention back to untangling the thick string. Fear was replaced by joy in Giulio's heart. He hurried to the man, leaned close, and whispered "Stuzzicadenti" in his ear.

"Marco, did anyone see him come in?" the man asked, talking over the top of Giulio's head.

"Only half the town," the young man answered.

"Stuzzicadentit" Giulio asked, hopefully.

"It's always that way, they send people who know nothing."

"Stuzzicadenti. .," in an unhappy moan.

"Toothpicks?" Graybeard asked, looking at Giulio for the first time. "Oh, yes, the stupid password thing. Wood? Nose? Tooth? No. Yes! Mouth. Bocca!"

"You took your time about it," Giulio muttered, put out by the reception.

"Shut up and follow me. Stay well back and look as though you are not following me. When they come looking for you I want everyone to know you left my shop."

He pulled on a natty pinstripe jacket, seized up a malacca cane from the corner, then strode out of the door and across the piazzetta. Giulio started to follow and was restrained by the strong arm of the youth. "Not so close. Watch where he goes."

Only after Graybeard had disappeared in a narrow alley did he release Giulio who hurried after. Rushing while trying not to rush, panting with the weight of the suitcase. He followed at a distance and, after a number of turns, was rewarded with the sight of his quarry entering a building. He strolled slower now, stopped and looked back. No one in sight. He pushed into a dark hallway and heard the door thud shut behind him. Another door opened and he followed the man into a cheerful room where wide-open double windows displayed a breathtaking view of the Bay of Naples. Graybeard waved him to a chair near the window, flashed a sudden gold-filled smile through the jungle of his beard, then seized up a bottle of wine from the sideboard.

"Welcome to Italy, Giulio. You may call me Pepino. How was the trip? You will have some of this wine, the native wine of this island, you will love it."

"How did you know my name?"