《Short Days, Long Nights》


 Chapter One

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for a Signor Jullio Filiberto Gugilimi.¡±


    The moon was bright and the night sky was a blanket of shimmering stars. In a small medieval town built on the outskirts of the southern Italian coast the dim lights of the restaurant Raffaelo¡¯s dully lit the cobblestone streets. Few horse carts and carriages passed by, and even fewer cars, for this small town still seemed to be somewhat cocooned in its own old world charm. One could hear the murmuring roar of the ocean from a few miles off, and a cool early summer breeze was making its way through the winding and steep streets. It was late, but not so late that the only citizens making their rounds were the town drunks. Small cafes and restaurants were open for business, and it wasn¡¯t unusual to see neighbors chatting late into the evening on the streets after going out to take in the wash. On nights like these the echoes of music and live bands could be heard slowly diffusing through the streets and down into tight, medieval alleyways.


    It was the year 1924 and little had changed in this town since the beginning of the century, the only noticeable thing that ever seemed to vary were the people, and even that could be arguable. The people of this coastal dwelling were famed for their long memories and the staunch upholding of their traditions. Traditions that included both ceremony and individuals. There was little that was not known by the people of the town if it had to do with one of their own ranks, and there was little to be done if someone wanted to have their family members or actions remain a secret. So with that knowledge, on this warm summer¡¯s night, Mr. Pietro yet again took his business to Raffaelo¡¯s on a hunch that his problem¡¯s solution would be waiting there for him.


    ¡°Excuse me, I said I am looking for a Signor Jullio Filiberto Gugilimi.¡±


    The old woman in a red apron pondered the question, her eyes darting from the man¡¯s dark eyes down to his rigid stance.


    ¡°Why should I tell you if a Signor Gugilimi is here? You¡¯ve come to this place every night for the past week to see if he¡¯s here and you¡¯ve never ordered a thing. We¡¯re running a business here, not a charity, Signor, I can¡¯t continue to let you sulk around here without seeing a cent.¡±


    She stared at him grimly now. He was nicely dressed, with a simple black suit that was not so common around these parts. A full, brown mustache hung over his thin lips and she noticed that his hair appeared to be thinning near the top, despite the fact that he tried to hide it by slicking his hair back with grease. He was middle aged, at least fifty, definitely old enough to know better than to hang around at a small town restaurant without paying, especially one in a town that he didn¡¯t seem to be a native of.


    ¡°Why, my good woman, the reason I am looking for Signor Gugilimi is for money¡ªhe owes me money you see. Of course I will gladly order something here once he pays me back,¡± he said calmly.


    The old woman squinted her eyes and she focused on the little blue vein lining the man¡¯s temple, apparently she had ruffled his feathers a bit.


    A likely story, she sneered, there was no way that someone dressed like him would be so poor that he¡¯d sneak around for a week at a restaurant because of some money. She may have been old, but she wasn¡¯t stupid; there was another reason for his constant visits.


    ¡°So¡ªhave you seen him?¡±


    She flickered her gaze past the man¡¯s shoulders at a small round table seated behind a tanned pillar covered with vines, hidden away from immediate view. There sat Gugilimi, his hair slicked back with a cloud of grey cigarette smoke enveloping his form.


    Mr. Pietro threw his hands into the air and abruptly maneuvered around her, making sure to let out an audible grunt. She¡¯d be no use to him if she was going to take five minutes just to answer a simple question, the old fool. He attempted to approach a few tables and ask around, but in a flash the lanky restaurant owner approached him, his face barely concealing a grimace.


    ¡°Now Sir, you¡¯ve been here every night this past week. I am sorry to say but if you stay another night without ordering something then I am going to have to ask you to¡ª¡±


    The man explained again what was happening with Gugilimi and asked the owner if he happened to see him.


    ¡°Jullio Gugilimi? Yes, he does come here often¡­he could be here now if I take a look around, I suppose.¡±


    Mr. Pietro leaned into the restaurant owner and let out a frustrated sigh. ¡°Oh really? Your waitress informed me she had no idea if the Signor was here or not.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s just doing her job. You¡¯re starting to become a nuisance to the guests and the staff. We can¡¯t have someone loafing around the place just for fun, especially a stranger.¡±


    ¡°Loafing around? My good sir, I never meant to make that impression upon you or your staff. I simply would like to have a word with you a moment about that Gugilimi fellow, if you don¡¯t mind...¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s in it for me?¡±


    While the two men had their heads together about Gugilimi the old woman had quietly made her way over to his table. Such a slick old thing didn¡¯t warrant any trust or loyalty on her part, Gugilimi had been a customer there for ages and he had always tipped her well. She was going to repay him now, even though she would have done it for free just to vex that old fool.


    The weather was warm in the late evening, however the restaurant was constructed from old Mediterranean clay and the bricks kept the space cool on nights like these. The open ceiling was always popular during the Spring and Summer seasons as well as some local musicians milling about the place plucking stringed instruments and playing the dynamic notes of the accordion. Small, round tables circled the space and fresh poppies were housed in small vases at every table. Candles littered the room and gave a sensual, warm coloring to the walls and pillars. Jullio Gugilimi usually liked to sit by the pillar closest to the small, open dance space. A spot that was secluded from the other guests, but had a prime view of the dancers if they were out that night.


    The old waitress made her way over casually and bent down by his table in order to look like she was refilling his glass.


    ¡°Signor Jullio,¡± she stated quickly, ¡°a gentleman is here looking for you. He says it has something to do with money.¡± She emphasized the last word, her brow fixing into a skeptical line.


    Jullio¡¯s brown, almond-shaped eyes widened for a split second. He turned in his seat nonchalantly and saw the two mean speaking in low, hushed voices.


    Jullio Filiberto Gugilimi was young, handsome, and always in trouble. Olive skin, brown hair, fine jawline, and a lean but muscular build, he was quite the ladies¡¯ man¡ªand wherever ladies were concerned he was always somewhere not far behind. Women seemed to be drawn to his natural beauty and charm, a certain charisma that had run in his family for generations on this small, ocean-cliff town. He welcomed, of course, any young lady who came his way, which lent himself to all sorts of difficulties when it concerned the fairer sex. However these sort of games never seemed to tire him and he reveled in the thrill of the sport, as he called it.


    He was not one who was far from the idea of having multiple lovers at once and for all of his twenty-five years, fully took advantage of the old gossip surrounding the string of Lotharios in his family line. If he was born into such a reputation then he should be the best that he could be, and he was. Fathers feared him and young girls curiously stared whenever they saw him about town. He was high born, but in the overall scheme of families situated across Italy he was of little consequence. Jullio had the Gugilimi money and the Gugilimi name, but not much came with it in the way of royal statuses and arranged marriages nowadays. In turn he was free to pursue what he liked, and he liked women.


    ¡°The man over there, you mean?¡± He nodded his head at Mr. Pietro.


    The old woman nodded, not daring to look at the two men.


    ¡°He¡¯s come here all week looking for you¡ªasking about you, something about money, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, Carolina, I have a feeling he isn¡¯t really looking for money either.¡±


    The two¡¯s gazes met.


    ¡°Anyway, if he finds you I don¡¯t want to know what he¡¯s going to do to you. There¡¯s something frantic about him and I don¡¯t like it. He was very short with me earlier, and yesterday he scolded Nico.¡±


    Jullio nodded and looked down into his lap for a moment, running his long fingers through his slicked back hair.


    ¡°Thank you for the warning, Carolina. I¡¯ll figure something out¡ªoh, and uh¡ªhere is a little tip.¡±


    He handed her a coin and the old woman nodded her head and left to the back of the restaurant.


    Jullio dared to peep around at the men again and tried to make a connection to the mustached fellow. No doubt they were talking about him, trying to figure out how to corner him without disturbing the other patrons. He drew a blank, he had no idea who the man was, but obviously he had to have some connection to him, and most likely that connection involved a woman. Jullio turned back toward his table¡­there had to be some way to sneak out of this one.


    ¡°I could tell him to go out the back door, tell him that you¡¯ve been poking around looking for him, but I don¡¯t want him to get in trouble, mind that you take your business up with him outside of my restaurant,¡± warned the restaurant owner.


    He comes here often enough though, so I think he¡¯ll trust me. Do I have your word?¡±


    ¡°You have my word as a gentleman. I can go around back and wait for him then.¡±


    ¡°Yes, and then after you¡¯ll pay back your debt and then some for disturbing my customers, right?¡± The restaurant owner looked at Mr. Pietro with accusing eyes.


    ¡°Yes, yes, of course. Once I talk to Gugilimi I¡¯ll pay whatever you want.¡±


    The restaurant owner looked at Mr. Pietro a moment longer and then nodded his head. He calmly maneuvered his way past the dancers and band and over to Jullio¡¯s table while Mr. Pietro made his way to the back door.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    As he approached the table he could see Gugilimi leaning back in his chair, keeping his head close to the adjacent column, shadows crossing his face from the candlelight on the table. An unfinished glass of wine waited next to the outstretched tan hand that was patiently perched on the table, a smoking cigarette waiting in an ashtray on the other side. Gugilimi looked past him to the other side of the room and for a moment the restaurant owner worried if Jullio had seen him with Signor Pietro.


    ¡°Signor Gugilimi¡ªa fellow was looking for you, about some money he said. But don¡¯t worry, I told him you weren¡¯t here and he was off¡­however I fear he might come back. You see he¡¯s been showing up here a lot lately and I don¡¯t doubt he¡¯ll come back when he hears word you were here and he missed you. I just wanted to warn you.¡±


    Jullio hurriedly looked away from the woman across the room that he was making eyes at. She gave a small frown when his attention was diverted.


    ¡°A man¡ªlooking for money? Signor Ricci, are you quite sure?¡±


    The man nodded and insisted, ¡°Quite sure. I think you should go out the back door, he won¡¯t spot you there. I just want him to leave and for there to be no disturbances. You are a good customer, Signor Gugilimi, I am just trying to help.¡±


    Jullio turned his almond eyes on him and saw something suspicious glinting in the man¡¯s eyes. He¡¯s lying, Jullio thought to himself. He must be, look at his eyes, and his hands keep fidgeting in his pockets. He¡¯s looking around too much, he¡¯s acting like a child lying to his mother. Carolina was right to be suspicious.


    Jullio gave a quaint smile.


    ¡°Thanks, Signor Ricci, but no thanks. I think I¡¯ll just go out the front door, but thank you for the generous offer of helping me elude that¡ª¡±


    ¡°Signor Gugilimi, I really must insist that you take the back door out¡ªthat man will surely be here soon. He just went out to¡ªto scout around the front of the street. There¡¯s no way he¡¯ll spot you if you leave out the back door. I don¡¯t think you realize how serious he was about finding you, and excuse my bluntness, but I can¡¯t have any trouble going on here tonight.¡±


    Jullio gave a little laugh and replied, ¡°Please, Signor Ricci, don¡¯t worry about my head. I can take care of this situation myself since I¡¯ve had a¡ªwell, I¡¯ve had a bit of experience with it in the past, let¡¯s just say. I¡¯ll brave the front door, don¡¯t worry, besides how would it look to this lovely lady here if I were to leave through the back door?¡±


    Jullio looked over and smiled at the young woman at the other table. She blushed pink, stifling a little giggle with a petite hand. Mr. Ricci rolled his eyes, his fists balling up slightly. Gugilimi was a good customer, it was true, but this certainly wasn¡¯t the first time that some father had come sniffing around looking for him, Mr. Ricci, personally, was getting sick of always having to cover Gugilimi¡¯s trail. Besides a gentleman that had as much women trouble as him couldn¡¯t possibly be a real gentlemen.


    ¡°Signor Gugilimi, be reasonable, I am just trying to¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, no, I can¡¯t in good faith take the back door, not with my family¡¯s honor at stake, do you wish me to emasculate myself by sneaking out an exit like a cornered sewer rat? If I didn¡¯t know you better Signor Ricci, I would be insulted. Besides you said he might not come back awhile, if you¡¯ll just let me leave now I will be gone in a matter of seconds, no trouble. Oh! But don¡¯t let me forget to pay¡ªlet¡¯s see here.¡±


    Jullio pulled out some cash and set it on the table.


    ¡°Ah, here you go Signor Ricci, and a great meal it was too. At least I pay my debts, eh, Signor? Unlike some people out there. You can be rest assured that that fellow is lying about me owing him money.¡±


    Jullio laughed and walked out before the restaurant owner could say another word.


    Once out onto the cobblestone streets, the dim oil lamps illuminating the buildings and roads Jullio sneaked to the back alley where the exit to the restaurant was. There he could see the silhouette of the man, kicking at some stones, his hands dug deep into his pockets. Jullio resisted the urge to laugh and quickly snuck past the alley and down the road toward his home, putting a little extra speed in his step in case Signor Ricci went to rat him out.


    After a few minutes, once the coast was clear, he began to chuckle and then exploded into a roaring laugh. It broke the still night air but he kept laughing and laughing, not aring who heard anymore.


    Life could be so exciting, he never knew what was going to happen next when it came down to his tangled web of women. For a few minutes in there he was genuinely frightened of a confrontation with what he assumed was a disgruntled father, but then Jullio had to think to himself that he was Jullio after all and he had dealt with far worse scenarios than an angry father or two. It was a bit unfair of him really, he was too good at this game by now, and really he ought to¡ª BAM!


    Suddenly he collided into something. Jullio¡¯s hand shot to his chest, damn, perhaps that father had caught up to him after all. He had lost all sense of direction once he got wrapped up in his thoughts and wasn¡¯t even aware that a man was walking straight toward him.


    ¡°Oh, Signor, I am so sorry! I wasn¡¯t paying attention to where I was going. Are you alright?¡± Jullio tried to keep his voice cool in the moment.


    ¡°Um¡ªAmericano,¡± replied the man in a timid voice.


    Jullio laughed, relieved that in fact it wasn¡¯t the father. He replied in English, ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry mister, I wasn¡¯t paying attention.¡±


    He watched as the man¡¯s worried face cracked into a relieved smile. His balance stabled and Jullio noted that he had a warm face with light brown eyes that dimly glowed like orbs in the center, and soft brown hair disarrayed from his hat. His nose and mouth were a bit wide, but the corners of his mouth seemed to crease into a slight, sweet smile. How on earth could he have mistaken him for an old goat of a father?


    ¡°Oh thank goodness! I¡¯ve been here for two weeks and I haven¡¯t been able to understand a word. I just switched hotels you see and I am afraid I am a bit lost now¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Sir, I can speak as much English as you like. Do you recall the name of your hotel? I live here so I¡¯d like to think that I know my way around. Oh, but how rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Jullio Filiberto Gugilimi.¡±


    Jullio stuck out a hand to the man.


    The man still seemed a bit shaky from the collision and Jullio¡¯s sudden, rapid English, but his kind face clearly shone with gratification. He dusted off his hat and coughed into a small, white hanky.


    ¡°Well, how rude of me as well. My name is Samuel Warner, but my friends just call me Sam.¡± He reached his hand out to Jullio and they shook, exchanging friendly smiles. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking for a small hole-in-the-wall place really. It¡¯s called ¡°La Cabina¡±, but I am afraid I get lost easily when it comes to Italian architecture, and this place is nestled in between a lot of homes that I think look awfully similar.¡±


    ¡°I see, well no worries, it¡¯s actually down this street a ways and I happen to be heading in that direction anyway. Would you mind an escort?¡±


    ¡°Oh, not at all,¡± insisted Mr. Warner.


    The two men started off again, Mr. Warner following closely behind Jullio¡¯s heels.


    ¡°So Mr. Warner, may I ask what brings you to Italy? Especially to my small little town? It¡¯s not often we get international tourists here.¡±


    ¡°Oh please do call me Sam.¡±


    ¡°Sam it is.¡± Jullio gave him a warm smile.


    ¡°Well, Italy called to me because I sell antiques. I have been looking for some good European antiques lately and I thought the best way to find them was to go there myself. Before I came to Italy I was in England for a month, and in France for a few weeks. I¡¯ve just been shipping things back to New York as I have been traveling, but I have had a bit of a harder time of it in Italy for some reason. I think it¡¯s because I stayed in the more populated areas of France and my French has never been too bad. As for England¡ªwell, of course they speak English there.¡±


    Sam gave a nervous laugh and dabbed at his forehead with the hanky from before that he had pulled from his pocket. Jullio observed him for a moment and nodded his head.


    Sam was a petite man, small in stature and short in height, but despite his timid appearance he gave off an aura that seemed to indicate that he tried to hold himself with some respect. Perhaps he was nervous and shy in all of these foreign countries that he had been traveling around to, but if he was truly a weak man then he wouldn¡¯t have set off on such a journey by himself. Jullio suddenly felt a bit envious of the man¡¯s daring.


    ¡°I see, so Italy has been giving you a bit of a hard time then, has it? I am sorry to hear it, but you¡¯ll be glad to know that you are in prime country for antiques. My town is revered for its¡ªold world charm as it were. I would be glad to be of assistance to you if you need it.¡±


    ¡°Oh how kind of you. I really can¡¯t thank you enough, Mr. Gugilimi.¡±


    ¡°Please call me Jullio.¡±


    Sam continued to dab at his forehead and his eyes crinkled pleasantly.


    ¡°Oh Jullio, I think my luck has doubled in the last ten minutes.¡±


    Jullio¡¯s ears perked up at this statement and he flashed Sam a white smile.


    ¡°It¡¯ll please me to triple it then because I have a proposition for you. You see I live in a sort of old castle inherited from my father. It¡¯s up on the cliff side there, just a few minutes past your hotel we¡¯re heading towards now. Generations down my great-great grandfather used to be a count in this area, believe it or not, so the place is full to bursting with medieval antiques and the like. There¡¯s a few things I have been looking to get rid of to clear up the place a bit. I was wondering if perhaps you¡¯d like to take a look around? I have some friends as well who have their own stash of antiques that they might like to sell off too.¡±


    ¡°And here I was with one week left in Italy thinking I was only going to come back with some old vases and a few dusty books,¡± stated Sam more to himself than to Jullio. ¡°It would please me a great deal to look around your place, Jullio. When would be a good time for you?¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow if you like? Maybe around one or two o¡¯clock?¡±


    ¡°Perfect!¡±


    The two walked on through the winding streets and discussed their plans for the next day. Sam would arrive that afternoon and Jullio would give him the grand tour of his little castle on the cliff. They could sort through the attic to see if anything interesting was up there waiting for Sam, and then after they could take some tea and sandwiches in the parlor for a break. Sam told him of his store in New York that his father had originally owned, but had recently flourished under Sam¡¯s own supervision after his father¡¯s death. Jullio quietly marveled over how proud Sam sounded when he discussed his work and his love for antiques. It had never occurred to Jullio that someone could be so happy in one¡¯s work, that being buried in old suits of armor and dusty volumes of Shakespeare and Dickens would cause this great a joy to a man. He had to admit to himself, as the two slowly meandered down the street to Sam¡¯s hotel, that he was a little jealous. Had he been wrong all of these years to think that to work would be the great and tragic death of a gentlemen? Why this antique business sounded fun!


    Upon arriving at the hotel Jullio took out a small fountain pen and some scratch paper from his pocket to write his address down.


    ¡°Here, Sam, don¡¯t lose this. I am expecting you around one tomorrow to help me clean my attic.¡± Jullio laughed as he handed Sam the slip of paper.


    ¡°No problem, I¡¯ll be there tomorrow around one like we said. We¡¯ll do more than clean it I hope. Thank you again for all of your help today.¡±


    The two men shook hands and Sam bid him goodnight as he walked up the stairs into his small hotel.


    Jullio turned on his heel and stuffed his hands in his pockets, making his way for the last leg of his journey home.


    What luck that he had decided to walk this evening, for if he took the car or one of his horses there would have been no way he¡¯d have run into Sam Warner like this. He really ought to thank that man at the restaurant; if he hadn¡¯t come barging in looking for him tonight then Jullio might have wasted away hours at that place trying to get that young woman to come home with him. God worked in mysterious ways, and he knew God must be generous for Jullio hadn¡¯t taken communion or confessed in an awfully long time.


    Although nothing was set in stone, Jullio had an inkling that Sam might just be looking for another business partner, and who else would fit the bill better than him? Jullio felt a bit of vain pride surge up in his chest and he beamed like a cheeky child. He would have never thought that all of his old junk would turn into something as precious as this chance. Perhaps¡ªperhaps then this meant that he could escape this little town awhile, go away and explore a place he had never given much thought of going to. Of course he loved it here and it was a part of his blood, but even he had to admit that it could get awful irritating to be regarded as such a blaggard, even if it might be true. To have someone he had never even met or seen before whispering about him always wounded him a little, even if he never liked to admit it to himself. Earlier he had thought that slinking off from the restaurant had been one of the most exciting things to happen to him all week, but now the prospect of a new career or possibly a new country nearly made him salivate.


    ¡°This calls for a celebration,¡± he suddenly said aloud to himself, not caring who might hear him now or how crazy they might find him. ¡°I think I¡¯ll call on Angela Magini, she¡¯s usually still up at this time.¡±


    He grinned like a Cheshire cat, turned, and whistled down the empty street toward, a little sprig in his step now.