I wake up. My head hurts. It's been a few days now since I've hallowed up in here. The damn typewriter has parts missing... I need to go look for them... I doubt anybody here has any... I change the sweaty shirt into another and leave the study. I'm down to my last cig. I stick it in and light it. Ain't nobody home again? I look around for food. Some bread, some cheese, butter… It'll do. I look around for coffee. She even keeps that in the same spot. I get the water boiling and hear a thud. I put the mug down and step out.

“The hell.” Isaura sits on the floor in the hall. She's pale and burning. “You're sick.”

“I know.” She breathes heavy. I pick her up.

“Where to?”

“Bathroom.” She mutters. I take her there. I set her down and she sways around in the doorway. I wait a moment for her to move and close the door for her. I stand outside the bathroom, waiting. The door creaks open, slowly. Right. I pick her up again and take her back to her room. I lay her down in the bed and tuck her in.

“How long you've been like this?” I ask checking her temperature.

“Since...”

“You're a frail one.”

“Shut it.” She pulls the blanket over her.

“Stay put. I'll get you something.” I tell her.

“You stink...” She whispers. I take a whiff of myself. Ooh. Ew.

“It happens.” I wink at her and go back into the kitchen. The damn whistle is blowing my ear drums out. I take the kettle of the burner. Some herbs, teas, all labeled. Ah. There it is. I make the tea. It should help. I rustle around for some real meds too. Maybe Ma's getting them... There were some empty packs on her table by the bed. I take the cup to Isaura.

“Here. Drink this. It'll help with the fever.” I tell her. She sits up and takes it. “Slowly.” I warn her. She gives me a look. I leave her be and return to the kitchen. I scramble for the ingredients and make porridge. Same thing Ma used to make for me when I was sick. I take it to the girl again.

“You awake?” I ask standing by the bed. A mumble. “Well, you should eat something too. You can sleep it off after. Here.” I hold the plate for her. She opens one eye and sits back up. I grab a pillow and put it down on her, setting the plate on it.

“Shall I feed it to you?” I tease her.

“No.” Isaura answers and eats slowly. Seems like she can handle herself here. I walk out again.

“Why.” Huh? I step back and look inside the room. Why, she asks.

“Why not? You're not well. You pay rent here. It's our responsibility to show hospitality.” I don't wait for an answer and return to my coffee and the lousy sandwich. Coffee's gone cold now. I'm surprised it managed to cool off in this heat. I finish my breakfast and go bathe. I open the tap and let the water run, strip the clothes off and take a good look in the mirror over the sink. I could use a shave. After. I get in the tub and rustle the pants on the floor for a cigarette. Right. I'm out. I soak and pout. Voices come inside. One's Ma. The other? Male? They quiet down for a good ten minutes. Then pick back up again. So much for a good soak. I quickly soap up and rinse off, get out of the tub and change into the clean pants and shirt. I let the water out and walk to the kitchen. Ma's back, making a racket, as usual.

“What was that?” I ask.

“For the love of! Don't scare me like that!” She pants. Oh the drama. “The doctor! I had to drag him here by the last of his hair! Tourist season! The poor girl might be dying!”

“And? What did he say?”

“You gave her this?” She holds the jar.

“Of course. She had a fever.”

“Good. It's gone down now. Here.” She hands me a slip. “Go into town and get this for her. Doctor said it's nothing serious. But she needs meds.”

“Ok. Anything else?” I ask her.

“She's asleep now.”

“She was asleep before you got here.” I put some power into that. “I was asking if there is anything else you need?”

“No.” Ma doesn't even look at me. Ugh. I go back into the study and take some cash out.

“I'm going now!” I shout to Ma and leave. It's a about a 30-minute walk to the town center. I get a few packs of cigarettes at the first kiosk I see. That's better. I light one up. The closer I get, the fancier it begins to look. Oh, so only our part of town looks the same. I stroll around the streets, making notes of the old and the new shops and stores. I stop by the first pharmacy I see. I wait in line. A young blonde stands behind the counter.

“Hello, how can I help?” She says to me, as soon as the old geezer finally stops hitting on her.

“Hello, I need these, would you have any?” I give her the note.

“One moment.” She walks away and gathers the things up. I put the cash down before she even tells me how much is it.

“Anything else?” She gets me the change with hopeful eyes.

“Yes.” I smile. She smiles back. “Where could I buy a typewriter here?” I keep my smile whereas hers disappears.

“A typewriter?” She asks, staring me down.

“Yes.” I nod.

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“No clue. There's an antique clock shop a few blocks down from here?”

“Thank you. Have a good day.” I tell her and walk out.

“Good day to you too.” She says disappointed. Guess that ring on her finger is just for show... Not that it stopped me before… I continue on with my quest for parts. I find the clock shop. Might as well try. I walk in. The bell on the door makes a soft ring.

“Hello?” I call out, looking around. Fancy.

“Hello hello! Come in! What can I do for ya today?” The geezer comes over and freezes. “Marco!” Uh-oh. “As I live and breathe!” I smile and wait for it. He comes closer and gasps. There we go. “Leo... I'm so sorry.”

I shake my head. “No, no. It's fine. I understand.”

“You look exactly like him...” I'm aware. Same blue-ish greys, same dark brown hair, same sharp jaw…

“I was wondering if you would help me out?” I try to change the subject.

“Yes yes, of course! What is it? Tell me, tell me!”

“Would you know where I could find these?” I give him the other list. He puts his glasses on and mutters something.

“These aren't for a clock.” He looks at me from over his glasses.

“No. I'm fixing a typewriter and I'm missing some parts. The town changed so much, I have no clue what's where anymore.” I smile.

“Ah well, the new mayor really went for the tourist attractions.” He says. Like we ever had any... “Like we ever had any!” He yells from the back. I chuckle. He comes out again.

“I have this. See if it works for you.” He sets an older model typewriter on the counter. Also in bits and pieces. I examine the scraps.

“Are you writing again?” He asks me.

“No. It's not for me.”

“Ah.” He sighs.

“Are you fixing this?” I point to the broken junk.

“No. I got myself a new one. This is just. I can't bring myself to throw it away. Habit.” The geezer shrugs his shoulders.

“I'll buy it from you.” I take the money out.

“Don't be stupid. It's a piece of junk. Take it. If you can use it. Just take it.” He shoos at me with his hands.

“Then can I buy a bag from you?” I show the paper bag and an empty pocket.

“Sure sure.” He walks back inside and brings the weird suitcase that the typewriter belongs in. He packs it up for me.

“Here you go.” He taps the thing a few times. I put the money down.

“I said I won’t take any!” He gives it back. I take the handle and lift the case up.

“For the typewriter. This is for the case.” I smile at him. He waits a moment and puts the money in his pocket, mumbling something.

“Thank you very much.” I nod.

“Don't sweat it.” He waves me off again. “If you need anything else, let me know. I order parts for the clocks–“ a bunch of them start banging the hour. So loud...

“We can find something for you too.” He finishes after a long and loud minute.

“Thank you, Mister...?”

“Bartellini.” He smiles at me. “Say hello to your mother for me.” He nods.

“I will. Thank you. Good day.” I leave the store. Well that was... An experience... I don't waste any more time and go straight home. I hate the heat. I come back to a house smelling like grilled fish.

“What in the world took you so long! You should have been back ages ago!” Ma's at it again.

“Mr. Bartellini says hello.” I tell her walking past the kitchen and into the study. I set the case down and go to see Isaura. I knock on the door. No answer. I carefully open it. Asleep. I put the meds on her table and leave the room. I take a cig out and go outside again. I sit down on the steps and enjoy the light breeze.

“You saw Mr. Bartellini?” Ma stands behind me. I nod, with my eyes closed.

“How?” Always with the interrogations.

“I was looking for parts.”

“What parts?” Ugh. I take the cig out and stand up.

“You told me to fix it, so I'm fixing it. Problem?” I tower over her. She glares at me and walks away again. I sit back down and finish my smoke. Ah. I forgot to shave... I feel the course hairs on the jaw. I get back inside. I find three plates on the kitchen table. I take one before Ma says anything and crawl back into the study. I set the plate down on the desk and open the old case. I lay the old model out on the floor and take it apart.

A little bit of fidgeting gets me hungry, thirsty and itching for another smoke. I grab a potato and a piece of the fish. I already want to leave the room when I change my mind. I lock the door again and open the window instead. I scramble for an ash tray that's nowhere to be found, of course, because he never smoked... I look for a glass instead. I put that on the windowsill and enjoy my cigarette. I put the bud out and remember that I have nothing to drink in here. I unlock the door again and go to the bathroom instead of the kitchen.

Shave. Gotta shave. I take the shirt off and put a towel around my shoulders. I take the razor and the soap, get a nice lather and slap it on all over. Slow and steady. A stroke at a time. His voice rings inside my head every time I do this. I cut myself the second my mind wonders off. I finish, clean the blade, wash up and pat my face down. The cut's not deep. I ignore it and put the shirt back on.

“Is there any liquor in this house?” I ask Ma.

“Not for you!” Ugh. Fine. I leave the house again and wonder around the neighborhood looking for a store or anything. I ask at the kiosk for directions. Should have gotten a bottle in town... Takes me forever to come back. Now I'm hungry again. What's that? A man stands next to our gates. He's about my age? Give or take. I walk up to him. Mom's in the doorway yelling at him.

“Problem?” I ask.

“I'm sorry, I was looking for Isaura. She hasn't been at work for a few days now.” He nods to me.

“She's sick. She'll be back as soon as she gets better enough. I'm sure the Post office can manage.” I stare him down.

“That's what I told him!” Ma yells and walks back inside.

“I see. Well, can you let her know I was here?”

“And you are?” I give him an unimpressed expression.

“Vince.” He offers a hand.

“I'll tell her.” I go through the gate and close it behind me. “Good day.” I stand there. Waiting. Vince nods and leaves. I return to the kitchen.

“What was that about?” I ask Ma.

“A friend from work.”

“Not a fan of his, are we?” I mock her.

“He's a sleaze.”

“You tell her that?” Silence. “Ma!”

“No! I'm not her mother!” She yells

“She calls you Mama Maria!” I yell back.

“Everyone calls me that!” She waves her hands around. Oh the... I go back to the study and lock myself in it again.

“Right. Let's get this over with.” I sit back down and drown in the repairs again.