Another Summer

Palombella was a beautiful seaport, full of busy sailboats and a lively atmosphere. The town's surrounded by mountains alongside the sparkling blue of the sea that comes with the coast.

The entrance to the harbor had a picturesque stone archway decorated with carvings. Three long piers lined in rows extended into the sea. On it, many Fishermen and hawkers would drift in from the nearby islands and set up their boats to sell their wares.

"..."

A boy with mahogany hair stared at a wood-carved figurine is one of the trading stalls. He was carrying a bag of flour on his back, slightly hunching over from the weight. People nearby started to worry about his distraction as they watched him stand there for an uncomfortably long time.

"Is he alright?"

"That can't be good for his back."

"He's like a total statue. How is he doing that?"

"Maybe a street performer."

"Yeah, probably."

"Hey, kid!"

The last booming voice snapped Enzo out of his trance. His head jerked up to look over his shoulder and saw an impatient man glaring at him.

"You ain't getting paid to stand around! Get going!"

"Sorry." In a grumble, he readjusted the bag on his back and set off.

The sweltering sun burned his skin, but this was all but part of the job. Today was to load some goods onto a ship cargo, and Enzo could already feel his legs tiring. But pay had to be earned.

An hour passed, and his muscles ached with exhaustion when he loaded all bags onto the ship.

He slowed his pace as he passed a deck with more goods stacked in the open; two mates of the ship were counting them and performing various checks. One of them looked at Enzo and motioned him over.

"Here, your share of the day." The man handed him his pay. "Say, how old are you? You look pretty young."

"Seventeen, sir," said Enzo, not looking up as he focused on counting the money in his hand. "If I may ask, will I be needed again tomorrow?"

"Nah, this is it till the next cargo, which might take another two weeks to get here. Y'know...we don't get a lot of teenagers working in these harbors. Nowadays, they prefer to work in the mines or the factories in big cities. Boring, I tell you. Sure they get free bread and ale, but there are only so many meals that can be served in a day. And the pay—Gawd, it's little more than a handful of fish for a week at best."

"Yes, sir," Enzo replied in the same dull voice. He could feel the man's stern gaze, but he continued counting and didn't once raise his head to look. After he finished, he put the money in his bag, thanked the two men, and simply left.

The two men looked at each other. "Not much of a talker, huh?

"Heard he's always taking any job he can get around here. To be honest, I feel kinda bad for the kid. If I were him, I'd be tired out of my mind too."

"Where is he from again?"

"Huh, how am I supposed to know?"

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Enzo walked along the streets of Palombella, all while silently ignoring the bustling surroundings. The bells of nearby churches echoed through the town while children raced across the paved cobblestone paths.

He passed the busy marketplace, with sellers calling and buyers haggling over prices for goods, and slipped into a quiet alleyway. It was a narrow route serving as a shortcut between the main avenue to the stores and restaurants of the central plaza. He stopped in front of a door whose sign hung above it read: "Bevorda's Butcher Shop."

The bell above the door rang as Enzo entered.

"Welcome. How may I help—Oh, Enzo!" A brown-haired man, appearing no older than his early twenties, greeted from behind the counter. He had a warm, friendly smile, as usual.

"Hey, Lewis. Just buying dinner."

"What is it gonna be today? Steak, pork, chicken?"

"Just fish. I ain't got enough," Enzo sighed as he sat on one of the stools. "Is Pia here? I found a rip on my vest at work today, so I want to ask her to help stitch it up."

"Sure, she's all cooped up in her room working on a new thing. I'll call her a bit if you want."

"Thanks."

Lewis grabbed two fish from the ice box behind him and set them on a clean cutting board. He began chopping them into smaller pieces. "So, how's that job at the harbor?"

"Fine. But the pay isn't consistent enough," Enzo's brow furrowed. "At this rate, I'll be broke in no time before I can pay my rent due."

"I hear ya," Lewis finished slicing the fish up. "What about the cafe down the street? They said you just came in the other day."

"The owner is kind of a jerk. No offense."

"Ah, what about shoes shining then?"

"I don't make enough there either."

"Horse grooming sounds good."

"The stables aren't looking for new workers right now."

"Chimney sweeper?"

"That's a job for kids. Do I look like one to you?"

"I'm just saying. With your height, you can probably pass as a twelve-year-old if you put enough effort into it."

Pretending to not see the boy's glare after that joke, Lewis packed the pieces into a bag and handed it to him. He placed his hand on the counter and leaned forward. "Listen... I'm sure I can spare a few coins if you need extra money."

Enzo took a deep breath. "You know I can't do that. You barely make enough to support Pia and yourself."

"Enzo, you're my friend." Lewis's voice softened a bit. "I'm really just trying to help."

"Thanks, but—"

Their conversation was cut short when someone came running from upstairs.

"Lewis, I'm starving!" a girl yelled her brown pigtails bouncing as she hurried down the steps. "Where's my food!?"

At the last step, the girl stopped short when she saw Enzo, and her face quickly flushed pink. "O-Oh! Why hello, Enzo. What brings you here?" she said in a sweet voice, her hands swaying behind her back. Just like that, her attitude from before seemingly flipped on itself.

Lewis sighed at his younger sister, who came at the inopportune time but was happy that she finally left her room.

"Hey, Pia," Enzo showed her the rip on his vest's shoulder. "Sorry, but can you fix this?"

"What—I took two painstaking days to make that for you! You should take better care of it, dummy!"

After Pia took it off to inspect the damage, Enzo rolled his shoulders, relieved as the heat was killing him. Lewis wiped down his counter, humming to himself.

"By the way, have you heard? Palombella is opening a new art gallery in a few days!" Pia asked with a cheery disposition. "They're also hosting a fundraiser to help local artists. I've been sooo looking forward to it all week!"

Enzo suddenly felt his stomach twist into a knot. Averting his eyes, he spoke sarcastically, "So this town's going artsy now? Nice. I can't wait for a bunch of boring art galleries in the future."

"It's not boring!" Pia put her hands on her hips. "I heard the gallery owner was able to snag a few outstanding artists from some famous places! Plus, the gallery will be open to everyone. Just another way for the community to support each other!"

Enzo shrugged. Pia was always on about how much she loved this place. It felt like she was raising the town in her own image, as she'd always dreamed of but had never been in a position to realize. He wouldn't be surprised if she became a tourist guide someday.

Pia looked at her brother. "Can you come to the show with me?"

Lewis, taken aback a bit by her enthusiasm, waved her off. "I'll have to pass. Someone got to keep the shop open, after all. But you can ask Enzo."

"Oh, I'd like that! Enzo, would you come with me to the grand opening?"

Enzo forced out an awkward laugh. "No, thanks."

"Aw, why not?"

"I've got things to do."

"C'mon now, everything doesn't have to be about work!"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"I'm not going, okay!"

The culmination of stress and anger accidentally raised his voice to a shout. Regretting it, Enzo put his hand over his face. "Sorry, I didn't mean…I think I need some rest."

He turned to leave.

"Wait, Enzo!" Lewis called out, but the boy had already gone out the door.

Silence lingered as the two siblings were left to think about what had happened.

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Enzo arrived home.

His house was on the lowest slopes of Palombella's outskirts, which overlooks the sea. It was small and quaint with a two-story floor—its interior made of wood, natural stone, and a slate-tiled roof. Nothing special, perhaps even a little poor, but enough for a person or two to live comfortably.

The kitchen had a back door that led outside into a personal dock. Usually, Enzo would relax there after a long day at work…but not today.

Dragging himself up the stairs and into his room, he wasted no time throwing his entire body onto the bed. As he lay there like the dead, he allowed his mind to wander.

"Free bread and ale…maybe I should work at the factory next," Enzo bitterly laughed.

But he knew that would never happen. He refused to work any job that would make him feel more numb than he already was. He'd rather be dead than do something like that.

The boy closed his eyes.

How long has it been? Two years? he thought.

Ever since he left his family, he had been keeping a low profile. Nobody in this town knows his true identity or that he came from Florence. He could bend in with the townspeople just fine, but never once would he let on his past to anyone. Not even to Pia and Lewis.

"What should I do?"

The truth is, he's afraid of being stuck here forever.

He hated the same old-same-old routine. Living in the same house day in and day out—neither doing anything with his life nor spending it all for himself. He didn't want to live the rest of his days like this.

And yet here he is…about to consider a job in a greasy factory so he wouldn't have to live out in the streets by next month.

Knock, knock, knock.

Just as Enzo was drifting to sleep, something knocked on his door. He resisted the urge to groan.

"Who is it?" He made his way downstairs and opened the door.

"Cousin!"

Enzo recoiled at the familiar voice. No way, that's…

"Calisto?"

A raven-haired boy around his age stood in the doorway. He was very well dressed and well-groomed compared to an average person with his finest overcoat and perfectly pressed trousers over silver brooches. Anyone would've instantly recognized him as someone of high class.

"What are you doing here?"

"Why, I came to see you, of course! I had to take a little detour and thought I would surprise you."

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The two sat at a small table in the kitchen. Enzo handed Calisto a cup of tea before sitting down across from him. The latter looked around, taking in everything from the iron stove and battered utensils hanging from the walls to the various rags and clothing strewn around the room.

"Say, it's actually kinda homey. Not too shabby either. And here, I thought you said you wouldn't be crazy enough to live in a house so outdated." Calisto joked, sipping his tea.

"I suppose I'm crazy, after all," Enzo sighed. "There are worse places to live than a massive ass mansion with a constantly leaking roof, for example."

Both of them laughed.

"It's been so long, Cousin. How have you been?"

"I've been fine. For the most part." Enzo lied. He doesn't want to speak about his financial troubles, especially to Calisto.

"I imagine it's been hard to get back on your feet after...well, you know. I wish I could've convinced mother's mind to let you stay."

"Don't be...it was also my choice to leave. I can't stand that place, honestly." Enzo put his cup down and raised an eyebrow at him. "But why are you here? I doubt you came all the way here just to see me."

A grin rose on Calisto's face as if he's been patiently waiting for this, which Enzo got a funny feeling.

"Glad you asked! You see, I've been invited to paint a piece for the new art gallery here!" He announced in delight, hand to his chest.

Ah. So this is what Pia was talking about. Makes sense, Enzo thought. Well, not like it concerns me.

He half-heartedly showed a smile to Calisto. "I see. Congratulations, man." He nonchalantly said, bringing the cup to his mouth.

"Oh, and I maaay have told the curator that you're my cousin."

Enzo spat out his drink. He went into a coughing fit, pounding his chest. "What?!"

"Relax. He seemed ecstatic about it, actually." Calisto assured as if that would calm him at all.

"That's not the problem! I thought I told you not to tell anyone!"

Calisto shrugged. "My bad. It was a slip of the tongue."

Enzo grumbled, finally gaining enough control to speak. "Now what? The curator is expecting me to paint too?"

"About that, yes. He said you must have some fancy talent. Of course, only if you want to. The criteria are simple: all you have to do is paint the sea of Palombella," Calisto leaned forward, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I was to be the main starring attraction, but... what's better than having two Fremonts in the event? Right?" he smirked. "So what do you say? It'll just be like the old days."

Enzo didn't like his tone one bit. If anything, he should've seen this coming a mile away. Calisto had always dragged him into these situations since they were children. He would be the center of attention with him, no matter what he did. He was just that kind of person.

When Enzo didn't answer, Calisto let out a soft sigh. "I know you've always been self-conscious about this kind of stuff. If you don't want to participate, I'll tell the curator. No worries, Cousin."

He stood up from his chair.

"... I'll do it."

"Eh?"

"I say I'll do it," Enzo said with more affirmation. "I'm supposed to just paint the sea, right? That's fine if you keep your mouth shut about me to anyone else."

Calisto's mouth agape a little. Then, with an air of finality, he smiled, "Sure. I will lend you my stuff to start."

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By the next morning, Enzo had spent most of the day working on his art piece. Fortunately, nobody saw him painting at sea in his rowboat, so he had some peace to focus and not fret over possible onlookers. The only times he returned to his house was to use the bathroom or eat.

Like a deer in headlights, Enzo went through canvas after canvas, barely looking up, even as he worked. He cussed to himself at every mistake he made and, occasionally, wanted to tear his hair out in frustration.

But he persevered, just hoping that he would strike gold with something he could be proud of.

Hours passed, and the sun started to dip.

Enzo put down his brush and dried his palette. He stared at his creation in dismay.

“This is it,” he mumbled. “This is the only thing I’m ever gonna make after this.”

The canvas was as messy as an uncoordinated child’s painting. The brushstrokes were wobbly and made no sense. What was supposed to be the wave resembled a random swirl of pigment, and what was supposed to be a building was little more than a squiggly line. Not only that, but the fishing boat was just a smudge on the surface.

Aka, completely hopeless.

But it’s okay, he thought. Maybe he can salvage it with a bit more paint.

Enzo picked up his brush and rolled up his sleeves. But before he could start painting again, he saw that his boat was drifting away from the spot. He sat down with the oars and began paddling back.

In a moment of tranquility, his eyes unconsciously drifted over the warm colors of the horizon and the deep, calm colors of the waters. He began to understand why the town treasures the sea so much as their symbol of life. Now, if only he could capture the same essence in his painting…

He heard a loud thud.

It nearly tipped his boat over.

“What the…?”

A body rose out of the water, and he swore his heart stopped when he thought he had accidentally just killed someone.

A girl?

He couldn’t see her face since her body was facing down, but he was awestruck by the fishtail for her bottom half.

No way.

Enzo leaned in for a better look.

He remembered something like this from his father. Could it be?

“A...mermaid?”