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skypied · 2 years ago

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AO3 Wrapped Questions!

3, 5, 6, 7, 10, 11, 16, 20, 27, 28, 29, 30 :)

I'm guessing wrapped implies "works from this year" so I'm only going off those! Buckle uuuuup this is getting looooong like always

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Hmmm, maybe Back Home. Most of my fics this year feel like mindless brain dumps, but this feels more like a complete work.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

Probably hard feelings? It generally has a lot less hits and kudos than most my other work, probably because of it being angst without a happy ending (YET), but through the months it's gotten a lot of very sweet and heartfelt and/or heartbreaking comments.

Back Home also got a lot more feedback than expected - it was one of those venting fics that I didn't really expect to resonate and/or not be enjoyed by anyone else but me.

6. Favorite title you used

Hmmmmmmmm , I don't really think any of my titles this year stand out :p Maybe Catch of the Day, just bc it's so stupid.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

Most my titles from this year weren't song titles actually! Surprising, since I used to exclusively use song lyrics. There's only hard feelings (Lorde) and Can't Help It, I'm Obsessed (Sam Riggs).

(In 2021 we had Orla Gartland, Lizzo, Troye Sivan, Taylor Swift, Halsey and Maria Mena. Taylor and Maria were used twice: so they win. I think Maria would win overall for how many times her lyrics have been direct inspiration.)

10. What work was the quickest to write?

Probably a tie between the first chapter of hard feelings (started at like 10 in the morning when I was supposed to work, lol) - and Home (written while perched on the kitchen counter watching onions caramellize for onion soup). Both were around four hours, maybe one or two more for revisions.

Wait, actually, both chapters of Catch of the Day were mostly written in an hour or two each.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

Depends on whether you count hours spent on it, or stretch of time it took to finish it haha.

I do have wips I started last summer. Most of them are probably never gonna be anything. But I do have a wip that's almost done and I still intend to finish that I began... 14 months ago. oops.

But among published work - the ones that took the longest stretch of time is probably undertow and chapter two of hard feelings. According to docs, I began undertow on Christmas Eve last year (damn, didn't I have anything better to do?), so it tooooook... almost nine months? It's also kind of a mashup between three aimless wips that I eventually figured out went well enough to just patch together. hard feelings part two took seven months.

Most hours spent on it is harder to gauge, but maybe Can't Help It, I'm Obsessed. I remember I spent most my free time on it for maybe two-three weeks. (And then Annie kindly and graciously and perfectly finished it for me, thank god; I'd gotten myself in a real rut with it.)

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Oh I dunno. Most are generic things like genre, established relationship and aged-up characters. The only one that sticks out is probably Alberto Scorfano has ADHD.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

Prrrroooobably Trust Fall! I think it's just sweet and neat.

27. What do you listen to while writing?

That goes in cycles. Sometimes a playlist with classical music mixed in with movie soundtracks. Sometimes just whatever album I'm hooked on at the moment. I have some specific music for specific things, most are one song I'll loop for hours:

Downtown (feat Pri Pach) by BYOR, VINNE, Pri Pach. It's SO good for hyperfixating and writing smut 2am on a weekday. (Been a while since I did that, though.) There’s a reason it was my #1 on Spotify Wrapped last year, and #2 this year.

IDFC (feat. Ravenna Golden) by WHIPPED CREAM, Perto, Ravenna Golden. Same as Downtown. It tingles my brain.

River by Bishop Briggs. Great for emotionally charged and angsty smut.

I've spent HOOOOOURS listening to just 22:12 Until The End of Time from the Haven soundtrack while writing, no specific genre.

I generally listen a lot to Kevin Atwater to get into those Sad Boy Feelings (especially when writing about Alberto being too brainwashed by Christianity to admit his feelings for Luca. God I still love that AU, shame it's never getting finished.)

Lately I've been rewatching TV shows while writing, just to have something moving on the screen and something to listen to.

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Hmm hmm hmmmmm, feel like I'm repeating myself here but Back Home and hard feelings. Both feel like is the first complete stories I wrote. Most my stuff is just scenes, this was the first that spanned over a longer time and connected themes together.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Ahhh idk if I have the patience to reread all 50k I published this year, so I'm taking a couple that come to mind:

It’s stupid and predictable and sometimes Luca wonders when they’ll tire of this, when the intensity of the teenage crush will fade into something more mature, as his mother used to sigh when they were chasing each other’s tails around the bay. It’s been years, and he’s starting to suspect this is just what they’re like, perpetually snickering like kids breaking curfew, whispering secrets in a blanket fort and constantly one-upping each other.

from Morning Routines. The whole fic is stupid, silly fun, but I feel like this passage sums up their relationship in a cute way.

You know him like the back of your hand, but he’s scarily good at slipping under your skin to hide. You convince yourself otherwise, but you can never really tell. Not really. But it’s yet another trust you have to fall into, accept the rush of gravity and hope he catches you.

Trust Fall, chapter one

He looks at you, breathless and disbelieving. Disbelieving your love for him. When it’s the only thing you truly believe in, when nothing in this chaotic world makes sense without him, when it’s the seam keeping your life stitched together.

You wish he could reach inside your chest, clench your heart tight and feel that it’s more his than your own. You wish you could put your mouth to his ear like a conch shell, and he’d hear the ceaseless waves that lap in the back of your mind whispering his name. You wish he could feel the magnetic pull from somewhere deep in your guts that makes you unable to stop orbiting him.

You don’t dare imagine what would happen if he stopped letting you love him.

Trust fall, chapter two

Both of these from Trust Fall are some of the rare instances that I feel like I’ve written analogies that feel complete and make sense for them and the work itself.

You stare up like you used to, towards the incomprehensible lights of celestial bodies dancing on the surface, towards the never-ending fantasies of freedom forever pulling you towards the next horizon. Except now there is an anchor wrapped up in your tail, with a low, humming purr filling your body and quieting the restless whisper in the undercurrent of your blood and gentle claws tracing patterns over your ribs, all brazen ferociousness gone for listless limbs and a sleepy murmur whenever you shift.

There’s still a pull, a need to see, try, explore more. But maybe you don’t need to leave everything behind to feel free.

from undertow. I feel like this is the closest I’ll come to writing something about Luca’s “teenage rebellion” need for freedom that might lead him to neglect friendships/relationships for fear of being smothered again, and becoming comfortable with intimacy and vulnerability and being tied down.

Also this line:

You don’t want him to be in love with you unless it hurts.

This whole thing from ch2 of Back Home:

“Do you still love me?” you ask again, but now your breath is slow and calm because you know the answer. But you have to ask. Just in case.

You know the answer because he’s ripped your heart out and sown it back together; replaced old, festering scabs with gossamer threads of promises and gently placed it back inside. It’s still a fragile, ugly patchwork, but he’ll keep replacing bits and pieces of old hurt with new hope until it’s whole. You know it because he has scratch marks and bruises down his back and neck colored by your love and rage, because he lets you ruin him to save yourself.

You know it because you believe him more than you believe yourself.

“More than anything,” he says in a firm voice, as if it’s a fact as natural and definite as the sun rising and setting. He picks the smoldering stardust off the floor, breathes life back into the stars and places them back into your eyes. He smothers the flaming rage in your veins and replaces your blood with love. Because he loves you. You love him too. You love him more than anything and it hurts more than anything. But it’s worth it for the blissful, warm silence when he looks at you and you know he’s seen everything inside you and still he wants to. He makes your heart into a home and you let him. No matter how many times you tear it down in all-consuming fits of rage, he puts it back in order and you let him. He wants to make you better and you want to let him.

yayyy I love breaking Alberto and putting him back together again<3

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Maybe how drastic the shift from only writing smut to never writing smut was? haha. Dgmw, I still write smut, but I just... don't finish it. Idk, it always ends up pushing up against things I'm uncomfortable with, or I write myself into corners. I feel like they're always things that aren't really a big deal, but they turn into massive hurdles in my head. And while writing smut is fun, I eventually end up feeling like I'm just writing the same things over and over. Which, y'know, is still fun and doesn't mean it's not valuable! I guess I just get really self-conscious over baring my ass on the internet.

On a more positive note, I think I've managed to keep a bit more distance to my writing. I do often get stuck with writing, and that frustration used to encompass everything and be... not great for me mentally. I used to obsess a lot more about feedback and get really bummed out about "underperforming" works and compare myself a lot to others. Now it's more like... I just chuck stuff I think is neat up on AO3 and don't think much more of it.

I’ve also experimented a lot more with style than I expected, and I guess found my voice a bit more!

ALSO how much Luca POV I’ve written. I still feel like I don’t understand the guy, but he’s fun to write. Alberto POV tends to become ... dark, lol.

#skypieposts #ty for asking! <3 #as always i ramble!

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happiestplacehq · 2 years ago

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hi there! who are your current most wanted? thank you!

So sorry for the delay, anon! I have been meaning to make a new Most Wanted, so this is by no means extensive:

Patricia Marianne (The Fairy Godmother)

Any of the remaining Lost Boys (Slightly, Cubby & Nibs)

Alba Laplan (The White Rabbit) May be due an FC change so up for negotiations on that one.

David Q. Dawson

Alberto Scorfano

John Silver

Louis Wooley

Sven Eismann

Michael Maus and the Rest of the Mickey Mouse team

Freddie Hickson (Flik)

Atta Hill

Gail Chen (The Grand Councilwoman)

Any and All characters from The Lion King and Mulan

Belle Gedeon

Stephen Pelekai

Maria Weathers

Flora Weathers

I have put our full character navigation doc in the source as I know tumblr doesn't like to post link heavy things in the tags. You can search each character by name and be taken to their bio from there.

#disney rp #disney roleplay #lsrpg #ouat rp #fairytale rp #town rp #mystery rp #most wanted

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eggsmemesandicons · 3 years ago

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@janethefuckingcat asked: Icon 💝 For my OC Maria and Alberto Scorfano

🥚 Hey there, I’ll absolutely put these on the list! It may take a bit of time to make the Alberto Icons, however. I can’t very easily get ahold of the Luca movie as of yet, but I will get these done! 🥚 The OC Icons’ll be IM’d to you once I can get to those!

#janethefuckingcat

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happiestplaceads · 2 years ago

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HAPPIESTPLACEHQ’S MOST WANTED !!

Patricia Marianne (The Fairy Godmother)

The Lost Boys (Slightly, Cubby & Nibs)

Alba Laplan (The White Rabbit)

David Q. Dawson

Alberto Scorfano

John Silver

Louis Wooley

Sven Eismann

Michael Maus and the rest of the Mickey Mouse team

Freddie Hickson (Flik)

Atta Hill

Gail Chen (The Grand Councilwoman)

Any and All characters from The Lion King and Mulan

Belle Gedeon

Stephen Pelekai

Maria Weathers

Flora Weathers

Jack King

To find their bios, click the source link. It will take you to our Google Doc masterlist, where you can find all additional information and links to bios, search for characters!

#disney rp #disney roleplay #lsrpg #ouat rp #fairytale rp #town rp #fandom rp

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ironychan · 7 months ago

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@writer652 @dysphoria-sweatshirt

AU baby Alberto and Mom!

#pixar luca #luca 2021 #alberto scorfano #she's a small-spotted catshark #maria scorfano

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ironychan · 2 months ago

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Got another chapter up.

#luca 2021 #pixar luca #alberto scorfano #maria scorfano

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ironychan · 1 year ago

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Here's a separate post for my favourite drawings of Alberto and his Mom, so that everybody can see them.

#pixar luca #luca 2021 #luca fanart #alberto scorfano #maria scorfano

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ironychan · 1 year ago

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Homecoming

Part One - Arrival

Part Two - Discovery

@writer652 @dysphoria-sweatshirt @careless-whispers

Maria woke up in the middle of the night when she heard the clatter of wood, and sat up sharply, blinking in the dark. Had something fallen over? Was there a stranger in the tower? She couldn't see any familiar shapes in the half-light. Had somebody...

Then she remembered – she was not in the tower. She was in her childhood room, now turned into a nursery for Massimo and Helena's baby. She'd been asleep on the mattress on the floor, and Alberto was in her arms, now awake and whimpering. The window was open, and the sound she'd heard was the wind blowing the shutters against the wall.

Shaking slightly, Maria got to her feet and shut the window, sliding the latch into place with a soft whine of rusty metal. Then she sat down again and gathered Alberto up for a hug, reaching under his shirt to rub his back.

“It's okay,” she soothed. “It's just the wind. We're warm and safe in here. Uncle Massimo and Aunt Helena are going to look after us.” At least, she hoped they would. As long as she managed to keep Alberto's secret.

She lay down again, and Alberto curled up against her. It was nice to be back inside a real building. They'd put up canvas at the tower to keep the worst of the weather out, and Giancarlo had always talked about repairing the wall properly someday. He'd never gotten around to it, though, and stormy nights like this had been terrible.

Maria had to wonder what Giancarlo was doing right now. He'd probably been back to the island, and discovered his wife and son were missing. If he looked, he would find the boat in Portorosso's little harbour. What if he came to the door and showed her up as a liar? What if he revealed his son's transformations in front of everybody? Would Massimo pull one of those harpoons off the wall and run him through? Would he then do the same to Alberto?

She shook her head and stroked her son's curls. Thinking about what if was never productive. She just had to take things as they came. Hopefully she was up to it, for Alberto's sake.

In the morning it was still wet and stormy out. Maria could see the boats in the harbour, riding up and down on the swells, and the leaves on the tree outside were thrashing in the wind. It seemed a luxury to be indoors, even as the walls creaked and the radiator whistled.

“Good morning,” said Helena, appearing at the door with a bundle in her arms. “I brought you some spare clothes... I won't fit back into these until well after the baby arrives.”

“Oh, thank you,” said Maria. She was too tall to borrow clothing from most women, but Helena was almost as tall as she. “You don't have anything that would work for Alberto, do you?”

Helena shook her head. “We've got baby clothes, but nothing big enough for him.”

“I'll make do,” Maria promised.

Helena's dresses were a little tight, but not too much. Maria washed up and dressed, changed Alberto's nappy, and headed downstairs.

She found Helena sitting in the kitchen with her bare feet up, eating some rather damp pastries Massimo had brought back from the baker, and surrounded by sketches. Maria came to see what she'd been drawing, and found a dozen views of Portorosso and the dramatic cliffs and terrace farms that surrounded the town.

“These are lovely,” she said. They made her dull little hometown look like a place from a fairy tale.

“Thank you,” Helena replied. “I got accepted to art school in Firenze, but then I met Massimo, and you know how plans change.”

“Yes, I do,” Maria agreed. Except... she really hadn't had any plans until she'd met Giancarlo. Only vague dreams of doing something with her life besides selling fish in the middle of nowhere. The two of them had then made plans together, how they were going to travel the whole world and see its wonders... but then, yes, things had changed.

"I'd wanted to spend a year in the countryside and paint, anyway,” Helena added. “This is such a beautiful town. There's always something new here. The sun hits the roofs in a different place each day, the sea has a thousand moods, the stars reflect on the water... I could paint this place for a thousand years and never run out of subjects.”

That sounded bizarre to somebody who'd always thought of Portorosso as the most boring place in the world. “Where are you from?” Maria asked, sitting down at the table.

Helena offered her the soggy paper bag with the pastries. “Genova. Not far away, I guess, but it feels like a million miles sometimes. It's so much bigger and busier there, all crowds and noise. Portorosso is so peaceful.”

Dull. Portorosso was dull. Genova had always sounded like a metropolis, like a place where big and exciting things were always happening. It wouldn't have occurred to Maria to think of it as crowded and loud.

“There's coffee,” Helena added.

“Oh, thank you.” Maria fished a pastry out of the bag for Alberto, and went to pour herself a cup.

Alberto examined this strange foodstuff. They'd had bread sometimes on the island, when Giancarlo brought it back from the various places he'd been working, but most of their food had always come from the sea. The cream-filled croissant didn't look like anything the baby had ever been given before. He dug his fat little fingers into it and pulled it apart, fascinated by the filling oozing out. Finally he thought to taste it, and his face lit up. He stuffed the rest in his mouth.

“Is that good?” asked Maria, sitting down beside him with her coffee.

Alberto grinned with his mouth full and his cheeks puffed out, and reached for the cup.

“Ah, ah, this is not for you,” Maria told him. “You can have a drink when I'm done.” He really was too old to nurse anymore, but she hadn't had a lot of other treats to offer him. Now that they were in town, the baby could be properly weaned. That would be a relief.

“He's so curious,” said Helena fondly, as Alberto sucked pastry crumbs off his fingers.

Maria moved a little, so that Helena would not be able to see if Alberto's hands began to turn purple. “This is a new place,” she said, “but he's a bright little fellow.” Alberto always needed to investigate and study everything shown to him, from snails on rocks to pieces of sea glass.

“According to the newspaper, the rain is supposed to let up later,” said Helena. “We could do some shopping. He'll need new clothes and so will you.”

“That's a good idea. I'll pay you back when I have the money,” Maria promised.

“If that would make you feel better,” Helena said. “Massimo told me you'd always been very independent.” She watched as Alberto slid down from his seat to start exploring the kitchen again. “I think he must take after you that way.”

“He does,” Maria agreed. “He tries to dress himself but he always gets stuck. He'll manage someday.” She looked around the kitchen, to make sure there were no more buckets of water and creatures sitting around.

Helena noticed. “Massimo delivered the lobsters last night,” she assured Maria.

Massimo himself joined them a few minutes later, his hair and shoulders wet from being outdoors where he'd been checking on the boat. “The water is too rough for fishing this morning,” he said, without any other greeting to the women. “I may go out later if it calms.” He sat down, and Maria pushed the coffee pot towards him. Massimo nodded thanks and poured himself a cup, then sat and watched his nephew opening and closing cupboard doors. “How is he this morning?”

“Into everything already,” said Helena. “Maria and I may go out shopping later, since we were saying he needs things.”

Massimo nodded.

It was always difficult to tell what Massimo was thinking. Maria had once been good at it, but she'd been away for a long time, and she'd gotten used to Giancarlo, who showed everything he was thinking on his face even if he sometimes put great effort into lying about it. Was there something on Massimo's mind, or was he just being his usual quiet self?

“Is something wrong?” asked Helena.

“Maria's boat is gone,” said Massimo.

Maria's heart leaped into her throat. Giancarlo must have come back for it. Why hadn't he visited the house? Was it because he was afraid of Massimo? Or had he been there looking in the window while she'd closed the shutters in the middle of the night? The idea made her shudder. “I must not have tied it properly,” she said. “I didn't think what would happen if the wind came up.”

Massimo gave her a sideways look. He knew she was good with knots. “Somebody went through the equipment in mine, too. Nothing was taken, but I brought everything back to the Pescheria.”

Maria bit her lip, wondering what Giancarlo had been looking for.

“That'll be a very wet and disappointed thief in this weather,” was Helena's only observation.

Maria was terrified that one or the other of them would realize she was hiding something and demand more information, but neither did. Once breakfast was over, Massimo went downstairs to go through the shop, sorting yesterday's catch into what was still fresh enough to sell and what would have to be turned into fertilizer. Maria would have offered to help, but she would have had to take Alberto with her, and the Pescheria would be full of water and ice. Instead, she helped Helena clean up the plates and cups.

“When are you due?” Maria asked the other woman.

“Six weeks,” Helena replied, running an affectionate hand over her belly. “It can't come soon enough, honestly. I'm getting so tired of hauling this extra weight around.”

Alberto chose that moment to tug on Maria's skirt, and she scooped him up and poked the end of his nose with her finger. “You really think that ends when they're born?”

“I guess not!” Helena said with a laugh, “but at least you can switch arms when one gets tired!”

The weather remained windy and grey, but the rain petered out by lunchtime, and Helena and Maria were able to go for their shopping trip. Even after promising to pay it back, Maria didn't want Helena to spend too much money on her, so she chose their first stop: a place that sold second-hand clothing and furniture, halfway up the hill. The break in the weather meant that more people were outside now, hoping to get a few tasks done before it started again.

“Hello, Maria!” Concetta Aragosta called out, as she and her friend Pinuccia passed. “Ottavia Brugnole said you were back.”

“That I am,” Maria replied, a bit puzzled by the greeting. The Aragosta ladies mostly kept to themselves, and didn't seem to be related to anybody else in town as far as Maria knew. They'd never spoken to her before.

Then again, after Signora Brugnole had been the first person to see her back, it was probably the talk of the town: Maria Marcovaldo returns, dressed in rags and carrying a toddler. Maria hadn't thought about that. She'd been so worried about what Massimo would think of her reappearance that it hadn't occurred to her to wonder what other people might say, any more than it had what she would say to them. Were they picturing her as fallen woman, wandering the world in rags with some stranger's bastard on her back?

But Concetta and Pinuccia did not look scandalized or even unhappy. They were smiling kindly as they came closer, and Alberto, who was alert and looking around in Maria's arms at all these new things, greeted them with the same wide eyes as he had every other stranger.

“Hello, there, little fellow!” Pinuccia said, wiggling her fingers at him in a wave. “Has your mummy got you out and about today?”

“Will his father be joining you?” Concetta wanted to know, although she sounded dubious.

Maria shook her head. “His father is... no longer with us.” It was so much harder to lie to somebody's face than it had been to do so to Helena's back last night.

“I'm so sorry,” said Pinuccia.

“If you need any help with the baby, you can always come and ask us,” Concetta added. “I promise, we know all about unusual children.” She winked.

Maria stared at her. What did she mean, unusual children? Did she know? How was that possible? She held Alberto a little tighter, making him squirm.

“We'll see you around and about, we're sure,” said Concetta.

“Arrivederci,” Pinuccia agreed, and the two of them puttered off.

Helena watched them go with a puzzled expression. “Do you know them very well?” she asked Maria.

“No,” Maria replied, just as confused as her new sister-in-law. “I think that's the first time I've ever spoken to them. I was right about Signora Brugnole, though,” she added. “She told everybody.”

“She certainly did,” Helena nodded. “We'll be hearing all kinds of theories about where you've been, I'm sure.”

When they walked into the second-hand shop, the woman behind the counter turned to her teenage son, who was assisting her, and said in a low voice, “that's her. That's Maria Marcovaldo.” Then she flashed a bright smile and approached the two women. “Welcome, Signora Marcovaldo,” she said in a much louder voice. “And welcome back, Signorina Marcovaldo – I'd heard you were back in town.”

Maria hadn't been addressed as Signorina Marcovaldo since she'd left home, and she wasn't sure now whether it was a good idea to start again. She didn't particularly want to use Giancarlo's surname, but being miss while carrying a small child would only make her a pariah. So she said, “it's Signora Scorfano.”

“Oh, so sorry,” said the woman, her smile not faltering a moment. “Signora Scorfano. I expect you need something to wear, and something for your boy, as well.”

It really was that obvious, wasn't it? “Yes, please.”

Alberto was the most important thing, so Maria went to the children's section first. She found him a lovely little set of rust-coloured overalls with sailboat on the front, and a yellow shirt to go with them. This was far more clothing than Alberto was used to, and he squirmed and complained as she put it on him in the changing room. As soon as she had the last button done, he escaped his mother's arms and went running out into the shop again.

Maria ran after and scooped him up, and Helena laughed at the sight.

“You come back here, you little scamp!” said Maria with a laugh. She gave Alberto a kiss on each cheek as he continued to wriggle. “Look at you, you look so handsome!”

“Doesn't he just?” Helena agreed with a grin.

“We'll take this set,” Maria told the shopkeeper. “Let me find a few more.”

She chose a couple more little outfits for Alberto, and then two inexpensive dresses for herself. Both of these would have to be let down before she could wear them, but that would give her something to do for the afternoon, at least. They paid the shopkeeper, and then Helena insisted on treating Maria to lunch at the trattoria on the Piazza. The sun was starting to come out now, glinting on the puddles and sparkling in the spray from the fountain. Fishermen were mopping rainwater off the decks of their boats before heading out to make up for lost time.

“Massimo will want us to hurry,” Helena observed. “He'll have work to do. So many of the men in Genova have office jobs nowadays, I always just assumed I'd marry a man who'd be doing that. A fisherman's schedule is so different.”

“Is that a good thing, or bad?” Maria asked.

“Oh, it's good,” said Helena. “On a rainy day in Genova, everybody goes to work like normal. On a rainy day here, we get to linger over breakfast and spend a little more time together. I still get to have a routine, but instead of just one, I have several, and it's a surprise in the morning which one I'll need to follow today. Now that I've lived here a while, I think trying to live in the city again would bore me to tears.” She'd been watching pigeons peck at crumbs under a neighbouring table, but now she looked at Maria with a smile. “Your husband was a diver. I imagine that was very unpredictable.”

“Yes,” Maria said. “We moved around a lot as he looked for work. Until Alberto came along, of course. Then we had to settle down.”

“Where were you living?” Helena inquried.

Maria hadn't thought of an answer to that. They'd been on that awful little island since about three months before Alberto was born. She wasn't about to tell anyone the truth. For one thing, it might lead them to Giancarlo, but for another, and perhaps more importantly, she was rather ashamed of it. The island had seemed like a good place to stay while they sorted the situation out, but then they'd somehow just never left. It hadn't been a very nice place to live, certainly no place to raise a child, but they hadn't known what else to do. Why hadn't she left months ago?

“We were in Montpellier when Giancarlo died,” Maria decided. They had stopped in that city, so she'd be able to answer questions about it if anyone asked. “I came back as fast as I could, but I didn't have much money.”

“I'm glad you made it,” said Helena. “It'll be okay now, I promise.” She smiled gently. “Massimo is so happy you're home. I honestly thought he might cry about it.”

Maria felt her chest tighten. That was why she'd stayed so long – because she'd had nowhere to go but Portorosso, and she'd thought Massimo would be angry with her. If she'd only known.

As she and Helena stepped outside again, Maria saw that the two Aragosta ladies were sitting on the edge of the fountain, enjoying some gelato. One of them smiled and waved, but Maria did not respond, still put off by their earlier conversation. Alberto, however, wriggled out of her arms, and before she could stop him he took off across the open space towards the two old women.

And towards the fountain full of water. Maria ran after him.

“Alberto!” she called out. “Alberto, come back here right now!”

Concetta Aragosta handed her ice cream to her partner and held out her arms to pick the boy up. That wasn't reassuring to Maria, who didn't want strangers handling her child. She'd almost caught up, only to see the woman grab for Alberto and miss. He hadn't been heading for her at all; he'd been running for the water, and now he toppled over the edge of the fountain and into the basin with a splash.

Maria shrieked in dismay, and then cried out, “no!” as Concetta Aragosta stood up and pulled the transformed baby out of the water. Immediately, Maria snatched him away and began drying him on her shawl in a panic. This could not be happening. There were so many people here! Not just the two old ladies and Helena right behind her, but a dozen others in the surrounding shops and businesses who might now see the little fishy creature in Maria's arms. Concetta and Pinuccia crowded close, perhaps for a better look, and Maria hunched as if to curl protectively around her son. It was too late. Much too late.

“Is he okay?” asked Helena, coming up next to Maria.

Maria swallowed hard, trying not to burst into tears. What were they going to say? They'd think she was worse than a fallen woman, that she was raising some monster...

“There we go,” said Concetta softly, rubbing Alberto's face dry on her apron. “There we go, all human!”

Maria blinked her tears away and stared at the old lady, uncomprehending. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing, dear,” Concetta said. She took a step back, and Maria clutched Alberto closer, shifting his weight as his tail vanished again. “We told you we knew about unusual children, didn't we?”

“We'll see you again soon,” Pinuccia said. She gave her friend her gelato cone back, and the two of them started back up the hill towards their home.

That left Maria standing there watching in confusion as they vanished around a corner – and Helena standing there looking at Maria with a similarly befuddled expression.

“What was that?” asked Helena.

Maria licked her lips as she tried to decide what to say. Her sister-in-law didn't look frightened, at least... maybe because the two old women had been so calm about it. She just looked confused.

“What did you see?” Maria wanted to know.

“I'm not sure,” Helena replied, coming closer to examine Alberto. There was nothing outwardly odd about him now, just a toddler squirming because his mother was holding him too tight. “I... is he your son?”

“Of course he is!” Maria huffed. “You have to promise not to tell Massimo!”

“I don't even know what I'd be telling him!” Helena protested. Her eyes went to something behind Maria.

Maria turned to see what she was looking at, and found that Massimo was waving to them from the Pescheria door. Maria waved back with what she hoped was a normal-looking smile, although she had her doubts. Massimo pointed to his boat, and Maria nodded.

“We have to go back to the Pescheria,” said Helena. “Somebody needs to mind the shop.”

“Of course,” said Maria. The Pescheria would be a relatively private place where she could... she didn't know what she was going to do. Somehow she must reassure Helena that this wasn't a problem, and then she had to be sure Massimo wouldn't find out.

They returned to the building, and stood in the doorway to watch Massimo start the engine on his boat and putter out to sea. Helena then went straight to the cash register to deal with their first customer, a woman hoping to purchase some squid for calamari. Maria waited in a corner with Alberto in her arms. He whined because he didn't know what he'd done to make her upset, so Maria stroked his curls and murmured reassurances, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“You scared Mamma so bad,” she whispered, “and I think you scared Auntie Helena too... but the two Signore Aragosta, they didn't mind.” She would have to talk to them. What did they know? Was it obvious to them in some way that Alberto wasn't fully human? Was there something she hadn't even noticed before that Maria was now going to have to worry about hiding?

Finally the customer left, and Helena came out to speak to Maria. Maria swallowed hard, wondering what in the world she was going to say. Would she throw her out, saying she didn't want a freak like that in her home?

“Is he all right?” Helena asked. “I mean...”

Maria sighed and set Alberto on the floor. There were plenty of puddles and ice he could get into here, but it hardly mattered when Helena had already seen. “He's fine. He's...” how could she explain, without making the situation look even worse? “What has Massimo told you about the sea monsters?”

Helena frowned in confusion and watched Alberto sit down on the floor to pick up a dropped coin. To her, the question must have seemed like something out of nowhere. “He said he first saw one the same summer you left. He tried several times to catch it, but it always got away. He said you and your boyfriend laughed at him when he talked about it...” her voice trailed off.

Maria winced at the memory. She hadn't realized in the moment that Massimo would be hurt by that. Her first instinct had been to protect Giancarlo. That whole summer they'd been terrified that Massimo might find out what Giancarlo was, especially when he kept saying how determined he was to catch the creature and mount it on the wall. Maria had feared he was hinting he already knew, and all her secret-keeping was for nothing.

Helena was still waiting for an explanation. For a split second longer, Maria thought about just making something up, but she knew that nothing she came up with would seem believable, even if it were still more plausible than the truth. Especially when she had already insisted that yes, Alberto was her son. She couldn't have denied that, even if it would help her story. She didn't have it in her.

“Giancarlo was the sea monster,” said Maria. “They transform when they get out of the water, and change back when they get wet again. I know it sounds like a fairy tale...”

With the coin still clutched in his hand, Alberto had wandered over to gaze at a basket of crabs. The crustaceans' claws had rubber bands wrapped around them so they couldn't pinch, but that didn't mean it was a good idea for Alberto to try to touch them. Maria went and ushered him away again. He stepped in a puddle on the way, and his bare foot transformed again.

“So he'll do that every time he gets wet?” Helena asked.

Maria nodded. “You see why you can't tell Massimo, right?”

“We have to,” said Helena. “He needs to know.”

“No, he doesn't!” Maria insisted. “You can't. If he finds out...”

“He would never hurt your child!” said Helena. “No matter what.”

“What if he doesn't believe that Alberto is my child?” Maria asked. “You didn't! He's told everybody in town he was going to kill that sea monster. He'd never let one live in his house.” She shuddered to think about it.

“It's your son,” Helena said. “He'll understand.”

Somebody cleared their throat, and both women turned to see a man standing in the shop doorway. Maria went cold. How much had he heard?

“Sorry to interrupt, Signora Marcovaldo,” the man said to Helena, “but my wife sent me to see if you have any large shrimp.”

“Of course!” said Helena, hurrying to find them. “Here we go! They're yesterday's, but they lived through the night just fine. Will these do?” she offered a basket.

The man studied them critically while Maria backed towards the inside door with Alberto in her arms. Some haggling followed, and she slipped through and shut the door softly behind her, then sat down on the stairs with her face in her hands.

“Ma?” Alberto asked.

“Sorry, Berto,” she replied. “It's not your fault. I want you to know that. None of this is your fault. It's all your father's and mine.”

The voices outside eventually ceased, and Helena cracked the door open.

“I don't think he heard anything,” she said to Maria. “He didn't ask any questions.”

Maria nodded. “You've got to promise,” she repeated.

“Massimo will find out anyway,” Helena said. “You can't keep children from getting into things. Alberto has been into everything from the moment he arrived.”

“Then I'll have to watch him better,” said Maria. Her son was used to being allowed to run around wherever he liked on the island, and was quite happy in or out of the water. It was going to be a very different life he would have to get used to here in town. Perhaps she should have waited until he was old enough to understand why they would have to hide what he was... but no, Maria couldn't have lasted that long, and neither could Alberto. He needed other children. He needed a life Giancarlo wasn't willing to give him.

“Maria,” Helena began.

“No. I need you to promise, because if you don't...” she swallowed. “Then I'm going to have to leave.”

Helena sighed, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, but she nodded. “I promise. I won't tell Massimo myself, but I know he's going to find out one way or another. He doesn't miss much.”

“He missed Giancarlo,” said Maria.

“I don't know if I'd be sure of that,” Helena said.

Maria shuddered. “I just... I can't make this more complicated. I feel like I'm going mad as it is.”

“I won't tell,” said Helena, “but I think you should.”

That would have to do for now, Maria decided.

Massimo came back that night with a catch that needed to be sorted and packed in ice for tomorrow. Maria had spent the afternoon washing and re-hemming her new clothes, and had allowed Helena to trim her hair, so she was looking far more civilized by the time her brother came upstairs to eat the fish stew his wife had made them for supper.

“It must have been a productive afternoon. You certainly smell like fish,” said Helena, going to kiss him. She then winced and took a step back, a hand on her belly. “The little one's excited to see Papá!”

Massimo closed the distance between them and kissed his wife's cheek, then bent down to kiss her swollen abdomen. That done, he looked to his sister. “Your shopping trip went well?” he asked.

“Yes, it did,” said Maria. She was finishing up sewing a button on one of the shirts she'd bought for Alberto, who was napping beside her. “He doesn't like his new clothes very much, but he'll get used to them.”

“He needs shoes,” Massimo observed.

“He does,” Maria agreed. “He's never had any.” Alberto would probably hate them, but Maria wouldn't have to worry about him stepping in puddles.

“Good catch?” asked Helena.

“Yes,” Massimo replied. “There'll be deliveries to do tomorrow, so I may not be able to go out again until late.”

“I can do them,” Maria volunteered. “I need something to do besides sit around the house. That would drive me crazy.”

“What about Alberto?” asked Massimo.

“I can watch him in the shop,” Helena suggested. She caught Maria's eye, and Maria nodded. Now that Helena knew, it was safe to leave Alberto alone in her care... Maria hadn't thought of that.

They ate their supper. Helena apologized, saying that she wasn't as much of a cook as Massimo, but it tasted just fine to Maria. She was a decent cook herself, though she hadn't been able to do much with some of the things Giancarlo had brought her, the seaweed and shellfish and random things that lived in the mud. He'd cooked them himself sometimes, but had said he didn't remember most of the recipes his own mother had tried to teach him. Having real food again felt like a royal feast.

“I can do the cooking on the night's Massimo can't,” Maria suggested. “Especially once the baby is born.”

“You don't need to earn your keep,” said Massimo.

“I'm not trying to earn my keep,” Maria told him. “If I'm going to be part of this household, then it's only fair I should contribute to it. You want to help me, I want to help you.”

After the meal, Helena collected the dishes to wash, and Massimo went downstairs to make sure everything was locked up and properly stored. Maria, meanwhile, scooped up Alberto, who'd managed to get stew all over his new clothes just as he'd doused himself in trenette al pesto the previous night.

“You like your aunt and uncle's cooking, don't you?” she asked. “If the mess you make is any measure, then you thought Auntie Helena's stew was delicious!”

“It's good to have a fan,” laughed Helena.

“Come on, bambino,” said Maria. “I think tonight you're going to need a proper bath.” She looked over her shoulder at Helena and saw her nod – Helena would keep Massimo from bothering them, and Alberto could splash in safety.

As she climbed the stairs, Maria though of that old saying about how one person could keep a secret, but once a second person knew, it wasn't a secret anymore. Here, that was not true. Helena knowing and being willing to help would actually make things much easier in several ways. Was it too much to hope for that the two Aragosta women would be the same?

She would have to deal with that tomorrow.

#pixar luca #fanfiction #alberto scorfano #massimo marcovaldo #maria scorfano #alternate universe #homecoming #i apologize to anyone who dies of cute from the illustrations

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ironychan · 1 year ago

Text

Homecoming

Part One - Arrival

In one universe, Maria Scorfano died when her son was less than two years old. In another, she decided to go back to Portorosso and ask her brother for help. I guess this is for @writer652

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Maria had her story prepared by the time she got to shore. She'd been telling it to herself all the way from the island, and parts of it even counted as true. She and Giancarlo really had gone to Cannes and then all the way to the teeming metropolis of Marsiglia, him working as a diver and her getting odd jobs wherever she could find them. Then Alberto had come along, and the two had been forced to find a place to settle down for a while, but that lifestyle didn't suit them and they'd soon found they were growing apart.

She wasn't going to admit to her brother that she'd finally just up and left, however – that would lead to a litany of I told you so that Maria did not want to hear. Instead, she was going to tell people that Giancarlo had died by drowning. That would accomplish two things: it would keep Massimo from going to look for him, and it would make him doubt the connection to the sea monster, if indeed he'd ever made it. Maria liked to hope he hadn't.

She brought her battered little boat into the town harbour at around noon. The sky was grey and gloomy that day, and the wind was chilly – it would probably rain later, and that could ruin everything. Alberto had to be kept dry, at least until they got indoors. If Massimo saw that... but Maria couldn't bear to finish that thought. She simply couldn't let it happen.

As the side of the boat bumped against the stone quay below the Pescheria, Maria's baby son was leaning heavily against her with the fingers of his left hand in his mouth, half-asleep. Every time she'd had second thoughts about running away, Maria had to remind herself that Alberto deserved better. She couldn't stay out there on that little island with him and his father, away from the world. This child would need things Giancarlo was clearly unwilling to give him. Maria wasn't sure she could do so, either, but at least she was willing to try.

The threatening weather meant not many people were outside to see her tie the little boat to the quay, and those who were did not look particularly interested in her. She pulled her threadbare shawl closer around herself and her child and climbed out, the damp stones freezing cold on her bare feet.

In her arms, Alberto whined about being woken from his nap, and pulled his fingers out of his mouth. They were damp from being sucked on, and were tipped with claws and purple scales. Maria quickly dried them on her shawl so that they looked human again.

“There you go,” she said, and kissed the top of his head. “Let's go meet Uncle Massimo.”

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Even with her story prepared, she knew this was going to be a bloodbath. Massimo had thought Giancarlo was a fool and hadn't been shy of saying so, even to his face. He was never going to let Maria forget that he'd been right, even if he did think Giancarlo was dead, and as Giancarlo himself had repeatedly reminded her, he was going to be livid that she'd run off. Maria was just going to have to brace herself and try to ride it out.

She climbed the steps and opened the Pescheria door – and there she stopped short.

It had used to be Maria's job to mind the shop during the day. With her having been away, she had fully expected to see Massimo himself behind the register, but he was not. Instead, there was a woman with curly red hair, wrapping up fish for Signora Brignole from up the hill.

Of course, Maria realized belatedly. Massimo still had to do the fishing in order to keep the little shop stocked. Obviously he'd had to hire somebody to replace Maria after she disappeared... but she'd known what she was going to say to Massimo. Confronted with this stranger, she didn't know where to start.

“I'll be with you in a moment!” the redhead sang out, putting the fish in a bag for her customer. Signora Brignole looked over her shoulder to see who had come in, and her eyes widened in shock.

“Maria?” the woman asked. “Maria Marcovaldo? Mamma mia! Does Massimo know you're back/”

The red-haired woman looked up sharply and stared at Maria for a moment, taking in her height, her build, her nose. “You're Maria?” she asked. “Massimo's sister?”

Maria opened her mouth, but nothing came out. All she could do was nod.

“Santa Mozzarella!” the woman said, delighted. She came out from behind the counter, moving at a slow waddle as she was heavily pregnant, and offered her hands. “Piacere! I'm Helena Marcovaldo – I'm your sister-in-law!”

That shouldn't have been a shock, either. Massimo was four years older than Maria. If she were running off and getting married, he could, too, and he would consider it his duty to continue the family. And yet... the idea that Massimo's life had just gone on without her left Maria feelinga little ill. Had he even missed her? Or had he not expected anything better of her than to run off with the boyfriend he thought was such a useless fool?

“And who's this?” Helena asked, looking at the baby in Maria's arms. Alberto stared back at her with huge green eyes.

“Oh, what a handsome little man!” Signor Brignole gushed. She elbowed in to tickle Alberto under the chin, but he grabbed the offered finger before she could touch him and stared up at her in turn. He'd never seen a stranger before, Maria realized. The only people Alberto had known in his brief life were his parents – and that reminded her of why she was here.

She found her voice. “This is Alberto,” she said.

“Hello Alberto!” cooed Signora Brignole. “My goodness, what a big boy! How old are you?”

“He's eighteen months,” said Maria.

“So nice to meet you!” the woman said.

Helena rolled her eyes. “Maria, why don't you come on upstairs? I'm sorry, Ottavia, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to close the shop for the afternoon.”

“No, no, that's fine, I quite understand,” said Signora Brignole. “You'll want to catch up, and I've already got what I need. Oh, it's lovely to see you back, dear,” she added to Maria, and kissed her cheek. “And you, little fellow! I look forward to seeing more of you!” She pried her finger out of Alberto's grip and bustled out. Helena shut the door behind her and locked it.

“She'll have told the entire town within half an hour,” Maria said. Another thing she hadn't been counting on. She'd sort of wanted to come back quietly and the disinterest of the people in the piazza had made that, at least, look like a possibility.

“I know!” Helena said. “Come with me.”

She hustled Maria up to the kitchen, or at least came as close to hustling as she could with her swollen abdomen. Once upstairs, Maria set Alberto on the padded bench by the stairs and would have made herself something to eat, but Helena gently took her by the shoulders and escorted her back to sit next to her son.

“I'll fix you something,” she said. “You rest. You look like you've had an awful time.”

“I do?” Maria asked. She didn't feel like she'd been through anything very horrible.

“You... you can't be very warm, in those clothes,” Helena said tactfully.

She was right, wasn't she? Maria was barefoot and dressed in rags, her hair probably looking very much like she'd cut it herself, carrying a baby dressed in a cut-up adult's shirt. She probably looked like she'd spent the past couple of years homeless. Lord knew what the local gossips – liberally fuelled by Signora Brignole – were going to make of her.

It was sort of true, though. She and Giancarlo had never intended to stay on that Island for any great length of time. It was just a place they could come back to if they needed, and be pretty sure nobody would bother them there. Maria wondered what Giancarlo was doing right now. Had he returned yet? Was he angry or sad that Maria had left him? Or relieved that he didn't have to worry about providing for her and Alberto anymore?

Helena put the kettle on to make tea, and pulled a blanket out of a drawer to wrap around Alberto. He'd never been swaddled up so tightly and didn't like it, squirming and whimpering until Maria took pity and set him on the floor. She pulled the blanket around her own shoulders, while Alberto got unsteadily to his feet and began to toddle around the kitchen inspecting things.

“What did Massimo tell you about me?” Maria asked warily.

Helena glanced over her shoulder. “It wasn't anything bad,” she said.

“No, that's not... I'm just curious,” Maria said.

The kettle began to whistle, and Helena took it off the heat and poured the water into the teapot. “He said you ran off with a boy he didn't like very much.”

“Did he say why he didn't like him?”

“Oh, he had all kinds of reasons,” Helena said. “He said the man was a liar and a drunk and probably a thief, that he was good for nothing and would never hold a job and couldn't provide for you. And then he'd get worried,” she added. “He'd say he hoped you were all right, and that your husband was being kind to you, and he wondered if he'd ever see you again.”

It sounded like he hadn't mentioned sea monsters... or maybe that Helena hadn't believed him if he had. That did make Maria feel a little better, though. He would probably be slightly less furious if he didn't know that the sea monster he'd been hunting was also the man Maria had left with.

“What happened?” Helena wanted to know. “I mean you're here, with your son, and this man isn't with you.”

“He died,” said Maria. That was what she'd decided to tell people, but the words popped out and she realized she'd said them too quickly. They hadn't sounded sincere.

Helena was startled, but she rallied. “I'm sorry.”

“No, it's...” Maria took a deep breath, and started from the beginning. It would be good practice, and perhaps this woman could give her some hint of what Massimo's reaction would be. “We went to Cannes. He got a job as a diver, and I picked grapes. We were going to travel, but then Alberto came along and we couldn't.”

“A child changes everything,” Helena said, a hand on her belly.

“Giancarlo drowned. He was diving a wreck and he never came up.” Maria lowered her head as if she were going to cry. She didn't cry easily, but she knew how to pretend. It was a good trick for any young woman to know.

“I'm sorry,” Helena said again. “He was trying to take care of you.”

“I know,” said Maria.

The story hung together: drowning was the most likely way a diver would die, but Maria found herself wanting to squirm. She hadn't expected to feel bad about the lie, mostly because she'd been expecting to tell it to Massimo. She would have told him a lie for the sake of reducing his anger and protecting Giancarlo, but now she had to lie to Helena so that the two wouldn't compare stories and find discrepancies. Maria hadn't thought of that. She hadn't thought about what she would tell everybody else in town. That was going to be something else to deal with.

“Giancarlo,” said Helena. “Massimo never mentioned his name and I didn't ask. It seemed like he really didn't want to talk about it.”

“He probably didn't,” Maria agreed.

Helena put tea and sandwiches on the table, and then excused herself to use the washroom. While she was gone, Alberto toddled back over to his mother and grabbed her skirt, wanting to sit in her lap. She lifted him, and kissed the top of his head.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Did you see her tummy? You're going to have a little cousin soon.”

That made Maria happy, at least. She'd been so worried to think of Alberto growing up on that little island, never meeting his mother's or his father's kind of people. They'd worried at first that he might turn out to be neither human nor sea monster, but something else that both would reject. That didn't seem to have happened, and Maria had started to think about going back to shore, but Giancarlo was still worried. Here, not only would he be among people, he would even have a friend close to his own age.

But there were so many other things to worry about. Maria had thought about how she would hide what Alberto had turned out to be from Massimo – but hiding it from Helena might be more difficult. If the two were both mothers of small children, Helena would probably expect the kids to play in the water or take baths together. Maria would have to think of excuses why not.

While Maria was mulling this over, Alberto found his way to a bucket in the corner of the kitchen and overturned it.

She had been watching his wanderings with one eye and saw the bucket, but had not realized it was full of water and several live lobsters. When she saw the splash she dived to catch it, but she was too late. Alberto squealed in delight as he got soaked and transformed, and the crustaceans made a mad dash for freedom across the wooden floor.

“Cavolo!” Maria exclaimed. She grabbed her soon and looked around in a panic. This could not be happening already. Heaven only knew what Helena would think if she came back into the room and found this little scaly beast wandering around... it might well be worse if Massimo hadn't told her about sea monsters, because then she would have no idea what he was. Maria seized the blanket and wrapped him up, rubbing frantically to dry him off.

“No, no, no!” she told him. “We don't get wet when there's people around!”

Alberto squirmed. He was always harder to hold onto in this form, with his slick scales and thrashing tail.

“We can't let Uncle Massimo and Aunt Helena see!” Maria insisted. She got his face dried off, so that his human features re-emerged and curly hair sprouted where fins had been. Deciding she'd have to be satisfied with that, she hung onto the unhappy toddler with one arm while trying to catch the escaped lobsters with the other. She had one back in the bucket and was reaching under the sink for a second, with Alberto still protesting his treatment, when Helena returned.

At once, Maria stood up, making sure the blanket was tightly around her son. She didn't know if the rest of him had changed back, and didn't dare check. Helena stepped closer, and Maria clutched her wiggling son protectively against her chest.

“What happened?” Helena asked. “I heard him shout, but I can't move fast.”

“Nothing! Nothing!” Maria said hurriedly. “I was distracted and he got into your lobsters.”

“Oh, no!” Helena laughed and held out her arms. “I can't really bend down. Can you grab them? I'll take Alberto.”

Maria held Alberto tighter, and stepped away.

“I can lift him,” Helena assured her, assuming it was her pregnancy that made Maria balk.

“Let me just... rearrange things,” Maria said. She moved Alberto from one arm to the other, pulling the blanket around him to hide his lower half until she could get a look at his feet without Helena seeing. Human – thank goodness! She handed blanket and baby to Helena.

Alberto was astonished to find himself actually being held by a new person. He stared at her for a moment, as if this were positively shattering his young mind, and then reached for her red ringlets.

“Watch his hands. He likes to grab,” said Maria, as she gathered up the lobsters.

“I'm sure he does,” said Helena fondly. “Look at those little talons!”

Maria's head snapped up to check. It wasn't possible, was it? She'd seen his hands and they'd been human... as indeed they still were. Helena was holding Alberto's chubby little fingers in one hand while supporting him with her other arm, and laughing as he grabbed at her shiny wedding ring. She was speaking purely metaphorically.

“There we go,” said Maria, getting the last of the lobsters back in the bucket. She added some water to keep their gills damp, but not too much – she didn't want to risk Alberto tipping it again.

“Thank you.” Helena handed the boy back to her. “Those are a special order, and Massimo would be furious if he had to go find more of them.

Maria shivered a little. Massimo rarely got angry. He bottled it up because he didn't want to be like their father, who would shout and throw things and punch holes in the wall. Giancarlo had used to make him angry, though. He considered it a challenge to tease Massimo almost to the breaking point, even as Maria begged him to stop. She wasn't looking forward to weathering that anger as it was turned on herself. As long as she could keep herself between it and Alberto.

She gave Alberto a bounce. “How was that?” she asked him, as if everything were just fine. “Do you like Auntie Helena?”

Alberto yawned.

“We've turned your old room into a nursery for our baby,” said Helena. “He can nap there if you like.”

“I think that's a good idea,” Maria agreed. “He's had a very exciting day.”

“I'll show you upstairs,” Helena offered.

Maria shook her head. “I know where it is.”

Helena laughed at herself. “Of course you do. Sorry.”

Maria climbed the stairs with Alberto still yawning in her arms. Here was a whole new set of problems, she thought. She'd figured she would come home and, once Massimo was finished shouting at her, it would be as if she'd never left. Indeed, that was one of the things she'd been most afraid of. Her old life had been so boring, with not much scope for improving the situation, and she didn't want to be trapped there until the day she died. It was still not a nice possibility, but she was willing to put up with it, at least for a while, for Alberto's sake.

Now, however, there was this unforeseen complication: Massimo was married and his wife was expecting a child. Once, before Maria had met Giancarlo, she and Massimo had discussed the idea that this house would not be big enough for two families. They'd then agreed that whoever married first got to keep the place and the other would have to move – but then Maria had run off with Giancarlo. The two of them had almost definitely gotten married before Massimo and Helena had, but Maria was pretty sure that her leaving had voided whatever force that agreement might ever had have. The house was still small, and there wasn't going to be space for five. Helena was friendly now, but she might come to resent this intrusion on a space she'd come to think of as her own.

Possibly Maria could at least work at the Pescheria, especially while Massimo and Helena's baby was small enough to need full-time care. Eventually that would probably dry up, though, and they'd need her to go somewhere else. What would she do then?

She would have to live alone. Anybody with her would be somebody she had to hide Alberto's transformations from. That would equally mean she couldn't remarry. She wouldn't be able to depend on anybody else to support her and her child, she would have to do it all herself. That was a deeply daunting task.

The little room where Maria had spent her childhood had been repainted and re-furnished, although much of what was in it was familiar nevertheless. There were toys she recognized, and the cradle that was a family heirloom. Maria set Alberto in it, and covered him with a crocheted blanket that looked new. Perhaps Helena had made it, or somebody else had given it as a gift. Alberto, accustomed to sleeping in the open air, immediately kicked it off.

Maria sighed and sat down in the rocking chair on the other side of the little room. There was just... so much, all at once. It wasn't as bad as she'd felt during the brief half-day when she thought Giancarlo had abandoned her on that little island with a newborn baby, but it was still overwhelming.

But Alberto was curled up in the crib sucking on his fingers again, and his eyes were drifting shut. He, at least, felt safe... maybe just because Mamma was here, but for the moment, that was enough.

Maria let her own eyes close. She'd left in a hurry as soon as Giancarlo was gone, and had barely slept the previous night for wondering and worrying. Maybe she could take a little bit of a nap as well.

She woke up hearing footsteps on the stairs and Alberto whimpering.

“There were both sleeping last time I looked,” said Helena softly.

“No, the baby is awake,” replied Massimo.

Maria's eyes flew open. There was her brother, following Helena into the room. He didn't look angry, but then, he didn't know Maria was awake. Alberto, however, was very much so, and had been standing up in the cradle trying to get his mother's attention. Now that somebody was here, he sat down heavily on his bottom and began putting some real effort into howling as if the world were coming to an end. Maria quickly sat up, and paused to stretch her neck and shoulders. “I'm coming, Alberto,” she said through a yawn. “I'm coming.”

“I think he's wet,” said Helena.

The word sent a jolt of lightning down Maria's back. She leaped to her feet and dashed across to snatch Alberto up and wrap him in the blanket. If his nappy had leaked, she needed to cover any part of him that had transformed. Fortunately, nothing had: the past year and a half had seen Maria get very good at folding and tying nappies. She bounced him and pretended nothing odd had just happened.

“Did Mamma fall asleep and leave you all alone?” she asked, hating herself for cooing the way Signora Brignole had. “Don't worry, I'll take care of it right away.”

She looked up to check what her hosts thought, and met Massimo's eyes. Here it came. She was going to hear about how foolish she was for running off with Giancarlo, how she'd selfishly left Massimo to run the Pescheria all by himself, and possibly how he was determined to spit that sea monster on a harpoon and hang it on the wall of the shop...

Massimo looked at her silently for a moment, then put his arm around her and the baby and pulled them both in for a hug. He held them there until Alberto began to complain loudly. Then, with evident reluctance, he loosed his grip and allowed Maria to step back.

“Helena said your husband is dead,” he said.

“Yes,” said Maria, waiting for him to call her out on it, waiting for him to point out that a sea monster couldn't drown.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Maria blinked. “You're sorry?”

“I'm sorry I drove you away.”

“You didn't drive me away!” Maria stepped back, shocked. “I left!”

“You left because I didn't approve of him,” said Massimo.

“I left because Giancarlo didn't want to stay here and neither did I!” Maria huffed. “It had nothing to do with you. Now, I need to change the baby.”

“I can do it,” Helena offered. “I need the practice.”

“No,” said Maria firmly. “I'll do it myself. Do you have extra nappies?”

Helena brought her one, and Maria thanked her, then shooed the couple out of the room so she could clean Alberto up. She told them that just because he was only a year old didn't mean he didn't deserve privacy. After they'd left, she did the job as quickly as possible, then scooped Alberto up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“You're just fine,” she told him. “Everything's going to be just fine.”

She wasn't sure she believe that, but... Massimo wasn't angry? He thought she'd run off because of him? Surely he must realize whose son Alberto was. Maybe he just didn't want to get angry in front of his wife? Or perhaps he wouldn't bother because he figured Maria would leave soon, for all the reasons she'd already thought about it.

“What are we going to do, Alberto?” she asked.

The baby gurgled. Of course, he didn't know – he was counting on her. Maria sighed and straightened her back, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Massimo was standing by the stove, with pasta boiling, while Helena chopped up potatoes on the counter next to him. Maria managed a nervous smile as she stepped off the last stair, her son still in her arms. “Can I help?” she asked.

“No, we're fine,” said Helena. “You sit down.”

Massimo stirred the pasta, then left it and sat down on the bench, next to where Maria had settled. He offered his hand to Alberto, and the baby reached out and grabbed it in both of his. His eyes were the widest yet as he contemplated the giant shape of his uncle. He grinned with his tiny white teeth, and babbled something nonsensical.

“How old is he?” Massimo asked.

“A year and a half,” said Maria, and braced herself. The boy's age would leave his father's identity in little doubt.

“He has your eyes.”

Maria nodded, closing them. Giancarlo had pointed that out more than once – Alberto had inherited her green eyes. It seemed to be one of the only things he liked about his son. “We'll be out of the house before your child arrives,” she promised.

“This is your home,” said Massimo.

Maria opened her eyes again and stared at him. “We agreed the house wasn't big enough for two families,” she protested.

“We'll figure it out,” said Massimo.

“You can stay as long as you need to,” Helena added.

Maria looked from her brother to his wife and back again. This made no sense. For two years she'd been listening to Giancarlo talk about how furious Massimo would be if he ever saw them again, how he'd shout at Maria and probably skewer Giancarlo on sight... was he really not angry at all? Had Maria really so misunderstood her own brother?

“You aren't angry with me?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

Massimo didn't seem to want to elaborate, so it was Helena who explained. “For a long time he was angry with himself. He thought it was his fault you left.”

“It wasn't,” said Maria. “It was my decision. Giancarlo asked me to go with him, and I went.” Maybe on some level, she felt like she deserved to have people angry with her.

“You thought that would make you happy,” said Helena. “Maybe it was a mistake, but if so, you deserve a place to start over from.”

“This is your home,” Massimo repeated. “We will not turn you out of it.”

“Our baby will have a cousin to play with,” Helena added.

“We could use the help around the place, especially while the baby is small,” Massimo said.

“I don't want to be in the way,” Maria protested

“If you really thought you'd be in the way, you wouldn't have come,” said Helena. “You came for help. We want to help you.”

The pasta began to boil over, and Massimo got up and ran to turn down the heat. “I am making your favourite,” he told Maria. “Trenette al Pesto. With the pignoli.”

For some reason, that was the breaking point. Tears suddenly welled up in Maria's eyes. She felt like the prodigal son from the Bible – she'd expected to be met with anger for running off and wasting part of her life, but instead she'd found only kindness and gratitude. Had the son cried over his father's reaction, she wondered, as the hot drops spilled over.

Alberto had seen his mother cry before, and had always found it distressing. He reached up to wipe at her tears the way she always did at his, and she took his tiny hand and quickly wiped the damp away with her shawl before it could start a transformation. “No, no, darling, I'm not sad,” she promised. “They're happy tears.”

Massimo served out the pasta, and they sat down to eat. Maria hadn't had Trenette al Pesto in months. She'd tried to make it a couple of times, but it had never turned out as well as it did at home, where the basil was fresh and there was a proper stove. This tasted like her childhood. It brought back a hundred meals with their parents, feeding the cats under the table, being the baby of the family instead of having to care for one. The tears almost spilled over again.

This time Alberto didn't notice, because he, sitting in his mother's lap, was focused on the strange stuff on the plate in front of him. He grabbed a handful of noodles and, before Maria could stop him, stuffed it in his mouth.

“Alberto!” she exclaimed, her own mouth still full.

The baby squealed happily through his mouthful, pesto dribbling down his chin. Maria put her fork down and tried to push the dish away, but Alberto grabbed it and pulled it back, spilling it down the front of him. That done, he continued grabbing handfuls to eat.

“He has your taste in pasta, too,” said Massimo. He got up and prepared another plate for her.

Alberto got cheese and basil all over himself and on his mother's arms and skirt, giggling and kicking his fat little feet. At least some of the food seemed to get in his mouth and he evidently enjoyed it, so Maria decided to be happy with that. Helena got up and wet a cloth in the sink, then approached.

“Let's get him cleaned up,” she said.

“No! I'll do it.” Maria snatched the cloth from her and moved Alberto to the bench, where she could keep her body between her child and her relatives as she cleaned food off him. As soon as any scales popped up, or any hint of purple or blue appeared, she would dry the spot on her shawl. “There we go!” she said, lifting him again. “Not quite all clean, but probably as clean as you're going to get for now.” She turned around and smiled at Massimo and Helena, hoping it looked sincere. “Sorry, I'm just used to doing everything by myself.”

Massimo nodded once. “You don't have to anymore,” he said.

He really wasn't angry, was he? Maria decided to take a chance. “I was wondering... did you ever catch that sea monster?”

“No,” said Massimo, sitting down again. “I haven't seen it in years. Maybe I did imagine it after all.”

Maria almost gasped. The angriest she'd ever seen Massimo was when she and Giancarlo had pretended to make fun of him for spotting a sea monster, hoping to throw him off the trail. The idea that he'd given up on that was shocking. Maybe... maybe everything was really going to be okay.

That night, Massimo and Helena made a bed for Maria on the floor of the nursery. She could have put Alberto in the cradle, but after they'd walked in to look at him earlier, she preferred for him to curl up with her. Protecting him was going to be a constant challenge.

But for the moment, he was safe, and so was she. Maria patted his small back and shut her eyes, happy to be home.

#pixar luca #fanfiction #alberto scorfano #alternate universe #massimo marcovaldo #maria scorfano #homecoming

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ironychan · 2 years ago

Text

A Little Human (as a Treat)

Part 1/? - Un Volontario

Part 2/? - Un Escursione

Part 3/? - Una Complicazione

Part 4/? - Una Famiglia

Part 5/? - Un Aiutante

The underdogs find some possible help. So does Flavia. Ercole needs help, but there’s nothing to be done for him.

Alberto, Luca, and Giulia had left the harbour and headed out into San Giuseppe Bay, looking for the sorts of places where sea monsters liked to live. These would not be so shallow as to be subject to the weather, but also not so deep that their crops wouldn't grow. No sooner had they spotted a likely-looking area – a gentle sandy slope, covered with seagrass and with sunlight flitting across it – than they started encountering people.

Back home in the waters off Portorosso, Luca was usually the first to talk to people, because everybody already knew him. The sea monster community there had been aware of Alberto's father, but had considered him a very private herson and he'd kept his son the same, and they were still a bit wary of Giulia and Massimo. In Napoli, it had been Alberto who'd started conversations, since just about everyone in the Gulf was related to the extensive Scorfano family somehow. Here, it was Giulia who approached a man gathering sunken driftwood and cleared her throat.

“Ciao,” she said. “Can you help us find somebody? Our neighbour, uh...” she looked at Luca.

“Mario Macarello,” he supplied.

Giulia nodded. “He has a cousin who lives near here.”

“Oh, yes, Antonio,” the man replied pleasantly. “Him and Felicia live just on the other side of the rise there.”

“Thank you! Come on, ragazzi!” Giulia swam off.

Alberto shook his head. “Man, when did she get to be faster than us?”

“You were proud of her before,” Luca reminded him with a smile.

“I'm proud of her when she's faster than people who think she's not sea monster enough,” said Alberto, “not when she's leaving us behind.”

Beyond the sandbar was an extensive, shadowy orchard of tall seaweeds with colourful fish darting between the branches, and in a clearing in the middle was a little house. Like most sea monster homes, this had been built up from boulders already on the bottom, and its distinguishing feature was the triangular doorway framed by the jawbone of a whale, which had colourful anemones growing on it. In front of the house was a carefully-tended garden of ornamental crinoids and sponges. Another sea monster was there, trimming one of the sponges with an obsidian knife. She looked up at them, then did a double-take when she noticed their human clothing.

“Buongiorno!” Giulia called out.

“Ah... hello,” said the woman. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Signora Macarello?” Luca wanted to know.

“I am,” she said, still cautious. “And you?”

“Luca Paguro.”

“Alberto Scorfano.”

“Giulia Marcovaldo. We're neighbours of Mario Macarello, from Portorosso.”

Felicia Macarello nodded in recognition. “Oh, yes, Tony's cousin Maria. I've met him.” She still looked rather unsure about these children, but the polite thing to do was be hospitable. “Won't you come in?”

She led them through the whale jaw and into the house, where her husband was replacing a stone that had fallen from the edge of a window. Signora Macarello was sky-blue and veyr thin, while her husband looked much like his cousin, being mustard-coloured and a bit pudgy, and prematurely losing the fins around the top of his head.

“Antonio, these three say they're Mario's neighbours,” Felicia said. She started sorting through the cupboards, looking for something she could offer her guests to eat.

“Oh, yes?” Antonio asked. He set aside what he was working on and floated over for a closer look – he, too, looked rather askance at what they were wearing.

Giulia took the lead again. “My name is Giulia Marcovaldo,” she repeated, “and my friends are Luca Paguro and Albe...”

“Paguro?” Signor Macarello interrupted, as his wife gasped. “The one who goes to school with the humans?”

“Yes, Sir. That's me,” said Luca.

“So you two must be...” Antonio pointed at Alberto, then at Giulia, and licked his lips. “You're the ones who are part human yourselves?”

“Yeah, that's us.” Alberto puffed his chest out defiantly. “What about it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” said Antonio quickly.

“We were in town with a friend,” Luca said, “but the fountain at the zoo broke and we got wet, and we had to run for the river. Flavia got left behind, so we need somebody to show us the best place to get out of the water again without anyone seeing us.

Felicia had been in the process of filling a large clam shell with snacks. Now she nearly dropped it in horror. “You left your friend behind in a city full of land monsters? Why didn't she come with you?”

“Because she couldn't.” Luca looked at his friends – this was a bit of a complicated situation. How much could they leave out, and still have it make sense? If they had to start with the magic books in the Library of the Deep, they'd be here all night.

“She's human,” said Giulia. “She can't swim.” It was probably true. Flavia wouldn't know how to swim the way humans did.

That made Felicia relax a little. “Ohhh,” she said. “Well, in that case, I don't see what the problem is. She's with her own kind.”

“No, she's...” Luca thought about it, and decided not to elaborate. “She doesn't know anybody in San Giuseppe.”

“She's one of my cousins from Napoli,” Alberto added. “She's just visiting Portorosso with one of her Dads.”

“We promised him we'd have her home in time for supper,” said Giulia.

Antonio grimaced. “Normally I'd say if you have to go up on land, you do it after dark when the land monsters won't be out and about,” he said, rubbing his temples. “Going up there while the sun's still out? I don't know. I just don't know.”

“I would say don't go at all,” his wife declared. “Land monsters are dangerous. Even if you are all chummy with them out there on the edge of the open sea, it's not like that here. If any of them spot you, that'll be it.”

“And then there's the sun,” Antonio agreed. “If you stay up there too long it can burn you, like sticking your hand in a kitchen vent. I knew a guy that happened to, and after a couple of days his scales started falling off...”

“We know,” said Alberto. “If you stay in human form your skin peels off instead.”

It seemed that neither of the Macarellos had known that. Antonio's eyes bulged in horror, and Felicia covered her mouth as if the idea made her nauseous.

Alberto leaned back a little, hands behind his head. “Well, guys,” he said to his friends, “I guess if they can't help us, we'll just have to find somewhere all by ourselves. I hope we get it right on the first try. It sounds like if we don't, we're gonna get harpooned.”

Signor Macarello sighed heavily. “I know a spot where the kids go to watch the city,” he said. “I used to do it until my parents caught me at it. But I will not go there while the fishing boats are out,” he added firmly. “We'll wait until the humans go back to land for their supper. You'll have to settle for getting your friend back in time for bed.”

That was considerably better than no help at all. “Thank you, Sir,” said Luca.

“Do you know where she'll be waiting for you?” Felicia asked.

“No... but we went to a few different places today, and she'll probably look for us at one of those,” Luca said. He thought for a moment and added, “probably not the pirate museum. The parrot didn't like us.”

“Maybe the pizzeria or the candy shop,” Giulia suggested. “Unless the pigeon lady took her home. What was her name?”

“Signora Pepitone,” said Luca. If they knew her name and had a few coins, they could telephone.

“We'll figure it out,” Alberto said confidently.

The house where the Donzella family now lived had once belonged to an elderly man named Terzo Cormorano, but had stood unoccupied since his death a couple of years earlier. Cormorano had let it get pretty dilapidated, and the Donzellas had done a lot of fixing up, but the house was now livable and it was time to pay attention to the rest of the property. The barn was in a particularly awful state, with the roof partially collapsed. While Signor Donzella and Silvio had gone to the shallows around the Island to collect more stones, Signora Donzella and a couple of neighbours were cleaning up what had fallen.

“That's Signor Pianuzza,” said Giordana, pointing to a man who was bringing in curved pieces of wood that must have come from a shipwreck. “And there's Signora Egelfino.” She was helping Giorgia Donzella sort the rubble by size, tossing away stones that were too broken or covered with shellfish to be re-used.

“Hello, Giordana!” Signora Donzella called out, waving. “Oh, is this that boyfriend we've been hearing about?”

“Yes! This is Francesco. His friends call him Ciccio,” Giordana replied.

“Ciao,” Ciccio said with a nervous smile. He couldn't help noticing that nobody seemed to find his presence odd. Certainly nobody said anything like, wait, wasn't Giordana's new boyfriend a human?

A little girl with red and orange fins, Alessia Pianuzza, swam up for a closer look. “Have you got sponges growing on you?” she asked Ciccio.

“No. I've got poison spines and I don't want to stick anybody,” he replied – especially now that he knew what they actually did. Which reminded him... what had happened to their tagalong?

He turned and saw motion in a line of tall purple seaweeds that had been planted to mark some kind of boundary. Sound carried further underwater, and Ciccio could hear Ercole's voice shout, “give that back, you little thief!”

“Come and get it!” Silvio replied. “Swim!” The weeds parted and Silvio dashed out, holding Ercole's pink sweater. Ercole himself emerged a moment later, in hot pursuit.

Watching Ercole swim was something like seeing an inexperienced rider on an excitable horse, except that Ercole himself was both the rider – trying desperately to pretend he was in control of the situation when he was clearly not – and the horse – barrelling merrily along in whatever direction it pointed its nose. Being bigger than Silvio meant he could produce more thrust, but he had no idea how to direct it. He caught up with the boy, couldn't stop, and ran right into him, sending both of them into the stony seafloor. There they wrestled a moment before Ercole got Silvio pinned and sat up, the sweater triumphantly in his hand.

“Mine!” he declared.

Alessia saw this, and decided she wanted to play, too. She swam over and snatched the garment.

“My turn!” she said, and darted away.

“Hey! Aspetta!” Ercole protested, but the only response was Alessia's giggles echoing back. He looked up at Silvio.

“Well?” Silvio said. “You know what to do.”

Ercole growled. He picked himself up off the bottom and tried to swim after Alessia. First he hit a rock. Then he plowed himself face-first into a bed of sponges. Then he finally managed to get going, and followed the laughing seven-year-old.

Silvio beamed. “He'll be swimming like an expert in no time!”

Ciccio and Giordana delivered their loads of stones to Signora Donzella, who thanked them and asked if they wouldn't mid helping Signora Egelfino while she got the rafters, made out of the old ship ribs, in place with Signor Pianuzza. They got to work sorting stones, and were soon joined by Signora Egelfino's daughter Mia.

Ciccio knew Mia. She was one of Giordana's friends and had been to town a couple of times to try the things they cooked up in the bakery – in human form she had short, light brown hair and freckles. As a sea monster she was yellow and pink, and it took Ciccio a moment to pick out the telltale traits and recognize her, but once he had he was pretty confident of his identification. It was gratifying to hear her familiar voice a moment later as she greeted Giordana.

Mia, of course, also knew him. She looked him over and said, “you're Ciccio, huh?”

“Yeah, that's me,” he agreed, rather relieved that somebody knew he was out of place here.

“What's with the spines?” Mia wanted to know.

“We don't know,” Giordana told her. “Apparently that's just what he looks like.”

“Huh,” said Mia.

Signora Egelfino was putting the smaller stones they couldn't use into a basket to carry away, but she was close enough to hear this conversation. “Oh, that's right,” she said. “Giordana's seeing a boy who lives in the human town, isn't she? I hope we'll see you down here more often, young man.”

Ciccio looked at Giordana. She had said if anyone asks, we're just going to tell them. Now was a moment of truth.

Giordana blinked back at him, then realized Mia was also looking at her to explain. She swallowed and shut her eyes for a moment. “Um, no,” she said with an awkward smile. “This is just for today. Ciccio is... he's a human.”

“Like Luca and Alberto's friend,” Mia agreed.

“Oh?” Signora Egelfino said. She moved a little, putting the bulk of the stones in between her and the kids. “So... this is just going to be something that happens now, is it? I mean, humans coming down here, and...”

“Just for today,” Ciccio assured her. “The kids had this magic scroll.”

“It was really for Alberto's cousin,” Giordana added. “She doesn't do the Change, but they found this spell where she could go up on land if she had somebody to trade with.”

“So they asked me if I wanted to try,” Ciccio finished.

He and Giordana both held their breath, waiting for Signora Egelfino's reaction. If this went badly, it wouldn't bode well for how Giordana's mother might react later.

Unfortunately, her first question was, “does your mother know?”

“We're gonna tell her tonight,” said Giordana, “when he changes back. I thought she'd take it better if she had a chance to get to know him a little better first.”

“I... see,” said Signora Egelfino dubiously. She didn't look at all comfortable with the idea, but she wasn't freaking out, either. That wasn't great, but it wasn't terrible. Could they expect the same sort of reaction from Atinnia Trota? Would she just be mildly disapproving like this, or would she be outright furious? Ciccio was starting to get a very bad feeling about the whole project.

“What about him?” Mia asked, pointing.

Ciccio and Giordana exchanged another worried glance, then turned to see what she was looking at.

Ercole was now lying face-up on a boulder, clutching his sweater and panting from unaccustomed exertion, staring blankly at a point somewhere between the surface of the ocean and the edge of the universe. Alessia and Silvio were hovering over him, concerned.

“Is he dead?” asked Alessia, sounding sincerely worried that he might be. “Did we kill him?”

“Nah,” Silvio said. “His gills are moving. He'll be fine.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and called, as if to somebody at a great distance, “you're doing really great!”

Ciccio turned back to Mia. “It's pretty obvious, huh?”

She nodded.

“Don't say anything to him. He thinks he's blending in.” The last thing Ciccio wanted was Ercole having another screaming fit.

Mia's only response to that was a snort.

A few minutes later, more neighbours arrived. The first one Giordana pointed out was Ginevra Tartaruga, bringing coils of seagrass rope. Her young son Milo was following her, but when he noticed Silvio and Alessia dragging Ercole off his boulder, he went to see what was going on.

“Up and at 'em,” Silvio was saying. “You gotta learn to steer.”

Ercole groaned loudly, but Alessia took his other hand and Milo grabbed him by the tail, and they hauled him into a sitting position.

Only moments behind Signora Tartaruga, Vittoria Aragosta swam up with a basket of barnacles and her five-year-old twins. She saw the other children gathered around Ercole, and went to deposit her daughters among them.

“This is Gianna and this is Giola,” she said. “Don't let them confuse you, Gianna is the one with the freckles on her gills.” She gave one a gentle tug so Ercole could see them. “Now, you two behave yourselves for... sorry, what was your name?”

Ercole just stared at her, not sure what was happening.

“This is Ercole,” said Silvio helpfully.

“Behave yourselves for Ercole,” Signora Aragosta finished, “and I won't be far away. Okay?”

“Si, Mama,” the twins chorused. Their mother smiled and nodded, and went to join the rest of the adults.

A moment later, Ercole finally figured out that he'd been mistaken for the babysitter. “Hey!” he protested, but Vittoria was already chatting with Signora Donzella, and didn't realize he was talking to her.

Using the rope and the pieces from the shipwreck, the adults and teenagers built a frame for the new barn roof. Then they began building over it with stones, cementing these together with barnacle glue and filling the cracks with sponges that would trap silt and keep cold currents and annoying plankton from getting in to bother the livestock.

As they worked, Ciccio tried to be surreptitious about glancing over to see what Ercole and the kids were up to. He would never have trusted Ercole to look after a child, and he wasn't sure these children were capable of looking after Ercole, either. The first time he checked, they had dragged him back to the row of tall seaweed. The kids were swimming through them, weaving in and out as if for a slalom, making it look very easy to do so without touching the stems.

The second time Ciccio looked, Ercole had tried it for himself and was now tangled in the weeds. Silvio and Alessia were trying to extract him while the younger children giggled helplessly.

As the adults decided to call it a day and began cleaning up, Ciccio took a third look. He was just in time to see Ercole starting off towards the row of plants – some of which were significantly shorter than they had been. Ercole managed to manoeuvre in between the first two, then back, brushing against the third stem but not getting stuck in it. In and out, in and out, and then he was at the other end.

The children burst out cheering and hurried to give him high fours, which he returned with a grin. “I knew I could do it,” he said smugly. “After all, I won the Portorosso Cup race five years in a row!” He held up his hand as he usually did for this boast, then paused, counted the fingers, and quickly added one from the other hand.

Giorgia Donzella approached Ciccio and Giordana. “You two and your friend were a big help,” she said. “I know Silvestro more or less kidnapped you for the afternoon, so can I offer you some supper? As a thanks for staying?”

“No, thank you, Signora,” said Ciccio politely. “I'm having dinner with the Trotas tonight, and then my father is expecting me home.”

“Some other time, then,” she said pleasantly.

One by one, the parents came to collect their children. Signora Aragosta left with her twins, and Signora Tartaruga took Milo by the hand.

“Thank you for entertaining him,” she said to Ercole. “He does tend to get into everything if he's left on his own.”

“It was nothing, Signora. My pleasure,” said Ercole, giving her what he thought of as his most charming smile. It had looked sleazy when he was human and sharper teeth had not improved it.

Signor Pianuzza let Alessia climb onto his back to be carried home, although he did grunt. “You're getting a little big for that, Starfish,” he said. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah. We taught Ercole to swim!” she replied.

“Oh, did he forget?” Signor Pianuzza chuckled, humouring her. “Good job. Let's go see what Mom and Cosimo have been up to. Thanks, kiddo!” He waved to Ercole, and headed for home.

Ercole turned to Ciccio and Giordana with a grin. “Did you hear that? They love me. They've got more sense than I thought, these sea monsters.”

Ciccio tried to remember if he had ever heard anyone thank Ercole before. It wasn't in his character to do useful things, even by accident... today was probably the first time in years. No wonder he looked so pleased with himself.

“I wonder if they ever have races down here,” Ercole mused. “Imagine the look on those boys' fishy faces if I beat them in their own element!” He rubbed his hands together.

“There are races at the festivals,” said Giordana, “but they're usually for livestock, not people. The more important question is what we're going to do with you now.” She nibbled on a cuticle as she thought about it.

Ciccio realized what she meant. “We can't take him back to your Mom's place for dinner,” he said.

“Why not?” Ercole asked. He pointed at Ciccio. “You got me into this, number one, and number two,” he pointed at Giordana, “you said I can't get out of the water to get any real food. I think that means it's your responsibility to feed me.”

“And Mom will do it, too,” Giordana groaned. Hospitality was important to sea monsters, and Attinia Trota took social niceties very seriously. “We can't sit around and think about it. I'm surprised she hasn't already sent Arturo to come find us. We'd better figured it out on the way. What are we going to tell her?”

“The truth?” Ciccio tried. He wasn't going to let her forget it.

“About you, sure, but him?” Giordana asked.

“Absolutely not!” said Ercole. “I am blending in, remember?”

“If we lie about you, it's gonna make telling her about me way harder!” Ciccio protested.

“That's not my problem,” Ercole informed him.

“Yeah, but if we tell her you were an accident, then she'll be even more suspicious about the whole thing!” Giordana groaned, pulling on her own fins in distress. She shook her head, and took a deep breath. “Okay, so you can't meet my Mom, then. You'll have to wait outside... we'll find you somewhere to hide, and I'll bring you something to eat, okay?”

“Fine,” Ercole decided. “I wonder what sea monsters eat. I hope it doesn't look as disgusting as you do.”

At Signora Pepitone's apartment, the adults drank coffee and talked about the sorts of things adults find interesting, while Perla took out a deck of cards and taught Flavia to play a game called Straccia Camicha. The rules were easy to remember and who won was based on luck, with each player putting down a series of cards determined by the last card their opponent had played. That was fine with Flavia, who was not good at strategy games like chess.

“If it does, you don't have to eat it,” Giordana informed him. “Come on – the kids said you can swim now, so do it.”

It was a fun distraction, but every few minutes Flavia would remember the pickle she was in, and would have to remind herself that Papa Leo was coming to get her and it would all be okay. What about the others, though? She still didn't know where Alberto, Luca, and Giulia had ended up or whether they would try to look for her. They had plenty of experience around humans and their spaces so they would probably be okay, but how would they find out that they were supposed to meet her and Papa Leo back in Portorosso? It would have been better to know.

A while later, Perla's mother arrived. She knocked and then let herself in, gave Perla a quick kiss on the cheek and then went to sit with Roberto and Signora Pepitone.

“You weren't kidding, Dionisia,” she observed. “The whole town really is talking about it. It sounds dreadful.”

Signora Pepitone snorted. “I told you,” she repeated, to her son. “Some coffee, Lisa?”

“Yes, please,” Lisa replied. “Do you remember Graziano? The fellow who works at the Museum of Piracy?”

Flavia paused in laying down a card, listening.

“Oh, yes,” said Signora Pepitone. “What about him?”

“He says he saw the same group of kids earlier in the day,” Lisa replied. “One of the girls apparently had never seen a parrot before, so he offered to let them pet his. As soon as they touched it, though, the bird started crying out about sea monsters!”

“They were on land when I saw them, but monsters they certainly were!” Signora Pepitone shuddered. “Horrid.”

Flavia felt her heart drop. If the man from the Pirate Museum remembered them, then he knew what the others looked like in human form. If he'd been telling everybody, then it wouldn't be safe for them to come back into town and find her. Was there any way she could get them a message to tell them they didn't have to?

First, she would have to find them. Flavia didn't know her way around San Giuseppe. She needed someone to help her, but the humans would refuse once they found out the friends she was looking for were the terrifying sea monsters Signora Pepitone had told them about!

Then she realized that Perla was waiting for her to take her turn. She had totally forgotten about the game. “How many cards did I put down?” Flavia asked nervously.

“One. You need one more, because I played a Cavallo,” said Perla. She looked at the adults, then lowered her voice and asked, “did your friends really turn into monsters?”

“Yeah,” said Flavia.

“Were you scared?” Perla asked.

Perla was the only person here who hadn't said sea monsters were scary, but that might just be because she hadn't yet said anything about them at all. Could Flavia risk telling her? Even if she did, could Perla help? Flavia licked her lips, then said, “they're supposed to do that. That's how sea monsters work.”

For a moment Perla frowned, and Flavia was afraid she'd just made a terrible mistake. Then, however, she leaned closer. “Really?” she whispered, intrigued.

“Yeah. When we get out of the water, we turn into humans, and when we get wet we change back.” And having already said we, Flavia realized, she now had to tell the rest. “Except me. I don't. I don't know why not, I just don't.” She could never escape that one exception, not even now.

Perla was fascinated. She looked over at the adults, then inched even closer to be absolutely sure they couldn't hear. “So... your parents were sea monsters, but you just turned out as human?”

“Um... not exactly.” Flavia wasn't sure how to even begin explaining the situation. “But if the man at the museum remembers us, then he knows what my friends look like...”

“... and he'll tell everyone.” Perla understood right away. “What are you gonna do?”

“I have to find them before anybody else does,” said Flavia. How could she possibly do that when she couldn't get in the water? All her life she'd longed to get out of it, and now she would give anything to dive back in! “I don't even know where the sea is from here.”

“I do,” Perla said. She gathered up the playing cards, and stood. “Nonna! I'm gonna show Flavia your bird collection, okay?”

“Careful with them,” Signora Pepitone warned. “They're not toys.”

“I know. I'm not a baby anymore,” said Perla. She took Flavia's hand and led her into the bedroom, explaining on the way. “The birds are ceramic. When I was little I used to play with them. I gave them all names and decided which ones were friends and relatives, and they would have adventures. Then I broke one, and Nonna wouldn't let me touch them again for ages.” She turned on the bedroom light, and gently shut the door behind them.

#pixar luca #luca 2021 #luca paguro #alberto scorfano #giulia marcovaldo #ercole visconti #fanfiction #a little human (as a treat)

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