Somewhere only we know

Chapter Fourteen ;)

“Maria Celeste,” Michaelle said plainly while sipping her cappuccino.

“The girl in the letter, yeah. He supposedly gave a necklace to this... lover. I don't know.”

“You guys are idiots,” Michaelle laughed. “Maria Celeste is Galileo's daughter.”

Everyone was astounded.

“Galileo had a daughter?!”

“Obviously. Yes he did. But she was illegitimate. He and Maria's mother had like a forbidden relationship,” Sarah said.

“That's why they put her in a convent,” Michaelle said, as if reading James' mind.

“That explains the address to and from San Matteo,” Valentino said.

The sun was just about to rise and they were all jammed in Raoule's rented car.

“Guys can't we just forget about this whole 'quest'?” Raoule said from the driver's seat.

James looked insulted and hurt.

“They have my cousin.”

Everything was awkward and quiet. They passed by old crumbling ruins and buildings.

Then Sarah suggested turning on the radio, probably to ease the tension.

The car passed by the Trevi Fountain. It zipped through the crowds of people, walking briskly with cappuccino steaming from the Styrofoam cups they held.

“Let me see the letter,” Michaelle muttered, taking the sheet of paper from Valentino.

“My mom just got off the plane right now.”

“How far is the airport from here?” James asked.

“Not too far,” Raoule answered.

A song started to play on the radio. Sarah found the song really catchy.

It was mostly piano with a vivid upbeat rhythm.

“Hey,” Michaelle said, her eyes still on the paper. “Hey, hey turn it up.”

Raoule did as he was told.

Michaelle was eying the words on the page as if they were burning her vision.

“Oh my gosh. Oh gosh... This is.. this is the letter.”

“What?” James asked, irritated somehow.

“Oh my gosh. Listen to the song that's playing.”

Everyone stopped and looked at her, listening to the song that blared from the radio.

“This is 'Somewhere only we know', right?” Michaelle asked.

“By Keane, yeah,” Valentino raised his eyebrows.

James listened. He listened hard. So hard his head hurt when he made the revelation.

“Woah,” Valentino commented, obviously mind-blown.

“The lyrics are the words in the letter,” James said in triumph. “We have to find these guys.”

Raoule made a right turn around the Colosseum and looked at James through the mirror.

“They're performing here in Rome tomorrow, actually. At the Plaza.”

“No shit,” Michaelle whispered.

“Nope,”

“Oh shit!” James exclaimed.

“Isn't that too much of a coincidence though?” Valentino furrowed his eye brows.

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

Valentino blew out air and sighed.

“Well, I'm tellin' you, it's too... rehearsed, don't you think? Here comes the Illuminati, terrorizing the Vatican. And we find this letter with the exact same words as these lyrics. And then the band who made this hit song happen to be in Rome at the right time and right place.”

“Oh I see. I know what you mean, you're right,” Michaelle agreed tentatively, pinching the skin on her chin.

Mountains and countryside scenes rolled past the windows.

“Well, it wouldn't hurt if we asked,” James said, determined.

Sarah looked at him and James suppressed a sad smile.

She squeezed his hand.

“Alright,” Michaelle said.

Soon they arrived at the airport. Raoule paralleled to the side, the engine still running.

“That's her,” Valentino said.

He got out of the car and helped a woman far from the car with her luggage.

The lady went inside to sit and greeted everyone in Italian.

Michaelle's jaw dropped.

“Ms. Pantusa?”

The lady looked at her and smiled, for that seemed to be her name. Her eyes sparkled to life with memory.

“Si?”

“Oh wow!” Michaelle said smiling.

“Hello,” Ms. Pantusa said in amazement. “I remember you.”

She studied Michaelle's face like it never changed at all, like it was sculpted onto unchanging eternal marble.

“Yes...” she whispered. “You..”

“Guys this is my mom,” Valentino introduced each other as if it was a routine he was accustomed to.

James looked at him. He favored his father, not his mother. She didn't have his sharp, straight face and his flat brown hair that was flipped up at the top of his forehead.

During the whole ride, Ms. Pantusa kept beaming at Michaelle as if she saw her in some kind of light no one else did.

They drove to an apartment and dropped her off, and she kept stalling her good byes.

“Well,” James spoke, while the car past by a shopping square, “Do we have tickets to go tomorrow? If we go to the Keane concert?”

“No,” Raoule said gruffly. “I still think it's dangerous. I mean, Valentino's right. It's all too risky.”

“I don't care if it's risky,” Michaelle said defiantly. “We kinda got this far. We can't back out now.”

Sarah put her beret in place.

“Michaelle's right.”

Raoule stepped on the brakes hard and the car screeched.

“How are you going to get there, huh?” he challenged them.

Sarah smiled deviously.

“We'll just have to crash it.”

….............................................................................................................<3