11. Looking for Words

Thursday, June 14
Late Morning

Today is turning into one of those major stress travel days and it isn't even 11:00am.

I woke up to an email from Bridget. Last night there was a massive hailstorm in Dallas. The term "baseball-sized hail" was not only tossed about but also demonstrated in the news feeds that I checked out. Bridget's front and rear windshields were shattered, her car took some body damage, and, most frightening, it broke the window in Liam's room.

This fell on the heels of yesterday's Skype. In it, Bridget pointed out that although she leaves the US on Saturday, she doesn't arrive in Italy until Sunday. I had it in my head that she was coming in Saturday morning although I should have known better. The result is that the plans I put in place for everything have all gone up in smoke. I had to spend this morning trying to rearrange things while at the same time trying to find out which trains to Messina actually have seats on them. When we spoke last night, Bridget said she was fine with getting straight onto the train from the plane, but I want to avoid this if at all possible. The question is, "Is it possible?" I won't know until I get to Rome and can figure out the train situation. That will control everything down the line.

Until then, I just get to sit on the train and wonder. Not a favored prospect. At the same, it's worth pointing out that my initial reaction to Orvieto was correct. It's a lovely place, and it was sad to see it disappear into the horizon as the train moved on toward Rome.


Rome
Late Afternoon

I got to the Termini and went straight to the hotel. As I expected, it is definitely on the down low, but at a price I can afford. I'm in a fourth floor room that is only about six feet across and ten feet deep. A monk would be happy. The building is located across the street from the Termini one one of the lesser streets. The check-in only took a minute and I was able to add the extra night that I needed. It is a statement of the differences in price between Orvieto and here that in Orvieto I had a four star hotel for three nights for 150 Euro. Three nights here are 180 Euro.

At check-in, the receptionist insisted I have the bellboy take my luggage. This wound up being necessary since the reception desk is actually four doors down from the hotel. The bellboy pushed my suitcase onto the elevator built for two then got in with me and it. We had a bit of a struggle opening the doors when we got upstairs. These open in, a decidedly silly innovation in an elevator so small. He then showed me how to buzz myself into the security door. This led us into a hall that smells suspiciously of sweat socks and curry and then into the room. Getting around with him in it wasn't that much different from trying to maneuver in the elevator.

Once I had gotten everything settled in, I went back to the Termini to see if I could figure out what could be done about the train. There were none that left after noon on either the 17th or the 18th. A later train would mean getting into Messina too late to pick up the car necessitating a night in a hotel there. I changed my search to search for an earlier train. As it turned out, there was one leaving at 7:39 on the 18th and it still had two first-class tickets. I snagged these. Not only did this get us into Messina well in advance of the rental agency closing, it also meant that Bridget was not going to have to get off a plane and then onto a train. I really wanted to avoid that if at all possible.

When I got back to the room, I went back online, this time to look for a hotel that was both very nice and not this one. I found a room at the Bettoja Atlantico on the other and much nicer side of the Termini.

Since all of this is now paid for, I hope to God that nothing else jumps in the way, but it doesn't look like it will. I purchased some Skype credits and called Bridget. She's fine with all of this.

After talking to Bridget, I set up a couple meetings. The first is in a couple of hours. I'll be meeting with a filmmaker, Davide Daniele, to talk about ways of dealing with the Italian officials and film crews. Tomorrow, I'm meeting with a producer, Giovanni Piperno, to talk about Italian contacts and tax credits. Getting these meetings set up via a cellphone that boomerangs between the US and here is more than a little chore. That's the other reason I bought the Skype credits.


Late Evening

Meeting Davide was good, but unfortunately, my evening was broken by some very bad news from home. My brother had tried to call while I was having a drink with Davide but my phone was switched off. When I saw that he had called, I texted to find out what was up. He told me that my cousin Eileen died suddenly of a heart attack. Eileen was a beautiful person in every way imaginable, one of a very tight knit family. She and her sisters Karen and Chris were as thick as any three people I have ever known and the thought of one of them being gone is quite simply unfathomable. She's the first of my generation to go, and one of those who we all would have assumed would have outlasted us all.

With a home in Casetta just outside Florence as well as a very full life back in the states, I used to kid her that I didn't want her life, but I would certainly be willing to rent it for awhile. I reminded her of this last summer when I saw her at a family get-together. She smiled and agreed with fairly typical understatement that, yeah, her life could be worse. A few minutes later, I got her and her sisters and two other favorite cousins together for a picture on the front steps. It's framed and sitting on the bookshelf next to my bed.

I talked to my mother about it as soon as I found out. As usual, she finds the strength whenever she needs it, but this has hit her hard. In a family like ours, one member's child is every member's child. This is especially true of my mother who is the matriarch of the whole family. She spoke with Diane, Eileen's mother. It seems safe to say that the hit to Diane and Joe has yet to be processed. After talking to my mother, I called Karen to check in. Karen is usually a ball of unflagging energy, but of course she was subdued. Right now, her mind is focused on what has to be done. Chris is currently flying to her place in Virginia and the two of them along with Karen's husband Mike will be driving down to North Carolina in the morning to deal with what has to be dealt with.

Right now, all I can think about is the day I spent with Eileen at Casetta in 2005. It seems so odd to be in Italy when receiving this news.