Constant Tides by Peter Crawley

Author:Peter Crawley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2020-03-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

“Mira?”

Silence.

“Mira?”

A rustling of cloth.

“Yes, Nicholas, I am here. Please, not so loud, you will wake papà. What is the matter?”

“You were talking in your sleep,” he says.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I did not mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t; I was awake. I was listening to your breathing and you started talking.”

Mira gets up and sits on the side of the bed. She lights a candle and holding it up, she looks him over: his forehead glistens and his bedclothes are soaked with his sweat. “I must change your sheets. How do you feel?”

“Cold.”

“Come, sit up. I will give you mine; they are dry.”

With her help, he obliges. “What about you? Won’t you be cold?”

“No, Nicholas, the night is hot and it is certainly hot enough in here: it is this infection you have; it is raising your temperature and that is why you feel cold.” Mira draws the wet sheet down. “Now, as before, lift your hips.” She slides it out from beneath him and throws it in the corner. Mira wipes him down and as she folds her dry sheet in place, she asks, “And what was I saying… in my sleep?”

“You were calling out a name.”

“And what name was that, Nicholas? Was I calling for Il Duce, the Pope, for the King or for Maria perhaps?”

“No. Carlo or perhaps Cola was what you kept saying. Over and over, you were calling for someone.”

“Now, lift up once more. Yes. Good. Now sit up again. That’s right. Now, lie back.” She floats a second sheet into the air above him and allows it to settle gently against his skin.

“Nicholas,” she says, dreamily.

“Yes.”

“No. I meant that your name is Nicholas. In Italian this can be read as Nicola, the short form of which is Cola. Do you know our legend of Colapesce?”

“No. Please, tell me.”

Returning to the edge of the bed, Mira sits again, though she is careful not to sit so close that her body heat adds to his. “Yes, I will. But afterwards you must promise me to sleep, eh?”

“You sound like my mother,” he chuckles.

“Well, perhaps for the moment I am. Now be quiet.” She pauses, thinking. “Nicola was the handsome son of a fisherman, a young boy who it was said could swim like a fish. He would dive deep into the waters of the Strait and on his return, he would so delight people with his stories of all the wonders he had seen that he became famous throughout the land. Soon enough, his tales drew the attention of the one–eyed King Frederic, who was… let us say, a little doubting of young Cola’s abilities. So, the king decided to test Cola and threw his cup down into the waters of the Strait and bid the boy fetch it back, which he did very quickly. The king then threw his crown into the water and bid Cola fetch it back too, which again he did very quickly. For the final test, the king threw his gold ring into the deepest water and bid Cola recover it.

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