I jingled the keys to the AirBnB in my hand as I walked down the street. The air in Bergamo was warm and wet; drops of sweat clung to my face. The fringe shorts and loose cotton shirt had done little to fend off the heat. My dirty sneakers gave me away as a foreigner. The sunglasses I had were more effective at hiding my curious tourist eyes than they were at shielding the sun.
An old beggar shook his hand at passersby. My head stayed straight, but from behind my shades, I could see all the fingers had been cut off from his hand. A few coins sat in his palm, like an offering at an altar. He grumbled at me as I walked past.
The sky grew overcast, and the sunglasses became more of an obstacle than a resource, but I kept them on because they helped disguise my gaze.
Rain started sprinkling down, lessening the temperature, and it seemed like a perfect time to fire up my cigar. I meandered through the streets toward the city center with a long row of benches covered by trees. The city was far more social than I was familiar with back home in the States. Families and couples were clustered for the first several benches. I figured I should make my way further down so as to not be as obnoxious as I already had been earlier that week.
The rain began picking up as I approached the open benches at the end. Mothers began pushing their strollers home, and fathers followed. I’d hoped I could stick it out, but the sprinkling rain turned into real drops. It was my last day, and I was determined to smoke my cigar.
People huddled under umbrellas and scurried past. I spotted a crowd taking shelter on the steps of a small police station, so I followed. The rain intensified even more, and my shoes began to get wet and cold.
I found a place on the steps with more space and lit my cigar. I took a few puffs and sat on the top step.
A plump, pale woman sat next to me.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hey there,” I responded, taking a drag.
The rain began dropping even harder, spraying up at us from the impact of hitting the ground. We both stood up and stepped back.
She asked where I was from and shared that she hailed from Finland. She and her husband had come out to enjoy the weather, and it wasn’t such a far trip, not like coming from America. I managed to ask about the weather in Finland and avoid answering why I was visiting Bergamo.
“The weather in Finland is not so bad, but it is warmer here in Bergamo. I love the scenery as well. My husband doesn’t really care,” she laughed.
“Where I’m from, in Denver, it’s a lot dryer, and the sun hits it really hard, like a desert in the mountains. The other day, I went for a jog and returned dripping with sweat.”
“Oh goodness, a jog,” she said, shaking her face. “I haven’t had a jog in ages. I’ve had so many operations at this point that I can’t jog or ride my bicycle like I used to.”
I told her about the route I jogged, taking occasional drags from my cigar, and she nodded along with me.
“That reminds me of my youngest son. He would jog a lot,” she began tearing up, and her voice broke. I stared at her through my shades with the cigar clenched between my teeth. The rain pounded the steps of the police station.
“He was 25 when he died. He liked to do all the exercising too,” she said, and her eyes welled.
“It wasn’t even his fault. We let him use our car to visit some friends, and a driver crashed right into him. He was crashed into from the side, and his neck snapped. We’re only grateful that he had a painless death... But it wasn’t his fault.”
I pinched the cigar in my fingers. “Well, it’s not your fault either.”
She began to cry and buried her head in her hands. She sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to ruin your vacation.”
Before I could respond, she said, “Now, what brings you to this beautiful city?”
“A wedding.”
Her face lit up, and a smile emerged. I assured her it wasn’t my wedding with the woman she had seen me with the day before, and we talked about the local places to eat. She suggested a pizza place up the hill in Citta Alta, mentioning that I wouldn’t have as difficult a time as she did because I was healthy and she had gotten fat. I didn’t know what to say.
We sat there for a few moments as the rain beat down. Then her phone rang, and she had to return to her hotel.
I sat on the steps and finished my cigar, wondering where the time went.