One fine day he discovered that he was nearly out of money. So he bought two glasses of grappa to kill the splitting headache and went to the port.
He was looking for a job all day long, but without any success. After several days of failure, he was suggested to do the job of a docker. He immediately agreed, as there was no other way out. His job was very poorly paid, so he had to leave the hotel and rent a tiny room near the docks. It was too damp in his room.
He got awfully tired first. Often he fell asleep not even having his supper or taking off his clothes. And early in the morning it all started again. The worst for him were the days when he had to carry the boxes of fish. He hated the smell of the fish. By and by all his clothes and his room smelt of fish.
In the end, he got used to this horrible smell too.
At night he often dreamt of Katanzaro, his workshop, and the colored crockery with the Magliano brand label. He never thought of going back. He simply rejected this idea.
A year passed, and he was working as a docker again. He never made friends with anybody. In the evenings he went to cheap restaurants to have a couple of glasses of grappa, and went back to his damp room.
One morning he decided not to go to the port. He went into a small restaurant near his house and took a glass of grappa. He spotted a well-dressed man at one of the tables, but he didn’t pay much attention to him. His glass of grappa and breakfast were brought to him very soon. Antonio had his breakfast, drank grappa and took a cigarette out of his pocket. He was going to ask the waiter to bring him some matches when the stranger offered him his lighter. Antonio lit his cigarette, thanked the man and sank into his thoughts.
“You don’t seem to be native here,” the stranger told him.
“Yes, I’m from Katanzaro; I’m working in the port here.”
“From Katanzaro?” the stranger asked in surprise. “It’s a beautiful town. How did you get here?”
“It’s a long story, sir,” Antonio answered ready to leave.
“You don’t sound very content with your job,” the stranger said.
Antonio looked at him in amazement. He muttered something in return and headed to the exit.
“My name is Caesaro De Stephanie,” the stranger said. “You can find me here, in case you need a help.”
Antonio nodded and left. That night he dreamt of the workshop, his machine tool, and the Magliano crockery again. He woke up very early next day. He washed his face and hands, had his breakfast, and went to the port.
“Where were you yesterday?” the chief docker asked him as soon as he saw him. “Today we are expecting a fishing boat, so we’ll have to work till late in the evening.”
Antonio imagined the wet sacks full of the stinking fish. He put his gnarled hands into his pockets, showed his back to the chief docker and went home. On his way home, he was thinking about the stranger: “Caesaro De Stephanie... How can he help me, I wonder?’ He was well-dressed, with good manners... No, I cannot go back to the port,” Antonio decided.
He didn’t go home; he went straight to the restaurant. The hall was practically empty. He gave a rapid glance to it and didn’t see the stranger there.
“Where can I find Caesaro Die Stephanie?” he asked the waiter.
“He is sitting on the verandah, as always,” answered the waiter. Antonio looked in the direction of verandah and noticed a man sitting there. So he went up to him, said hello, and asked very politely if he could sit at his table.
The stranger smiled at him, drew up the chair, pointed at it, and offered Antonio an expensive cigarette. Antonio took one cigarette and gave the package back to the man.
“Leave it to you, you’ll need it,” the stranger said with a smile.
“Thank you,” Antonio murmured and sat down.
“Can I do anything for you?” the stranger inquired.
“I’ve been living here for a year already and I’m working as a docker. But I am not able to work there any more. I can’t get used to it. I’d rather die from hunger than go back to my work,” Antonio said and kept silent for a while. Then he inhaled and went on:
“Would you please help me to find some other job? I would agree to do any job but mine.”
“Would you go back to the port?” the stranger asked. Antonio looked at him in amazement.
“So you wouldn’t agree to do anything,” the stranger giggled.
“That was what I told you, I would do anything but...”
“It was a joke,” he stranger interrupted him laughing aloud. “I’ll find something for you. Where do you live?”
“Near here, in the next quarter,” Antonio answered pointing his finger to the neighborhood.
“Okay. Let’s meet here in two days. Take this till then,” the stranger said giving him some money.
“No, no! I’m not asking you for money, I...”
“Take it. It isn’t a charity, it’s a loan. You’ll pay me back later,” the stranger admitted and put the money into Antonio’s pocket almost by force.
“Thank you ever so much,” Antonio muttered in a broken voice.
“Two days. Don’t forget!” the stranger said and stood up. I’ll meet you here in two days.”
Antonio was sitting at table extremely amazed. Then he ordered grappa, drank it, and went out of the restaurant. He found his landlord, paid him the rent, packed his luggage in a small bag and left. He went straight to the store to buy some clothes. The shop-assistants were surprised to watch him choosing his clothes with a great care. He asked them to wrap it all well, took a taxi and went to the hotel “Volturno”.
Almost nothing had changed there during the previous year. Only the hall was decorated with new flowers. He took the best apartment in the penthouse from where he could get an excellent view of the whole city. He sat into the armchair of his spacious balcony, turning his back to the port the only sight of which got on his nerves. “How could I stand it all for such a long time?” he thought and lit a cigarette. He sat enjoying himself for quite a long time. Then he got up, took off his clothes, wrapped them into a paper, made a small parcel and put it in the corridor, by his door. Then he went into the bathroom and took a bath. He lay in the foamy tub for a long time, and nearly fell asleep. Then he dried himself well with a nice towel, went back into the master room, lay on his huge bed, and fell fast asleep. In his sleep he dreamt of Katanzaro again. He dreamt of the stunningly beautiful crockery, stamped with the Magliano brand label, and Francesco holding the stamp in his hands.
In the evening he had his supper at the restaurant. He didn’t feel at ease in his new clothes, he felt rather awkward. So he returned to his apartment, sat comfortably into his armchair, put his legs up on a low table, and smoked his cigarette.
***
Two days later, in the afternoon, Antonio went to the appointment. Caesaro De Stephanie was sitting on the verandah, smoking an expensive cigarette. Antonio came up to him and greeted him. Caesaro nodded an absent hello and only after that he recognized the young man. He scrutinized him with a smile.
“It seems, you have a good taste,” he said. ”I could hardly recognize you.”
“Thank you,” Antonio replied and took a seat.
“I have spoken to several people about you, but nothing proper has turned up yet. What did you do in Katanzaro before you came here?”
“I was a potter, but I’ll never again take up this job.”
“Really? I could never think you were a potter.”
“It doesn’t matter now. I’m ready to do any odd job.”
“Any?” Caesaro smiled strangely. “Okay. I will need several more days, or rather a week.”
“A week?” Antonio was disappointed.
“Don’t worry. I’ll help you until something descent turns up. This will be enough, I think. You will pay back your debt later,” Caesaro added putting a roll of a considerable sum of money on the table. “Where are you staying now?”
“In Valturno,” Antonio answered in a harsh voice.
“Great. Stay where you are, I’ll visit you there in a week myself.” With these words Caesaro stood up, patted Antonio on his shoulder, and hastily left the restaurant.
Antonio looked at the money. “I couldn’t have earned this amount at the port even for three months’ work. What sort of a job is he going to offer me, I wonder?”
He put the money into the inner pocket of his jacket.