The Sixth Legion

Chapter 14 Painting the Palace

With their modified agenda roughed out, they met Louiggi in the lobby and Don gave him 40 euros to keep himself busy while they caught a quick bite at the La Palmetta café off the main lobby. They had a simple continental breakfast with espresso, and then they hightailed it out front where Louiggi was patiently waiting. Of course it was searing outside but their driver seemed unaffected, leaning against his cab smiling. Donny thought, They must have radiators hidden somewhere under their coats... As they approached, the driver gave them an ear-to-ear grin and blustered, "Bona sera Don Cuillo, bona sera Signora Lesliea. You e' ready to see Palermo?" Lesliea enthusiastically shouted to him, "Absolutely Louiggi, let's paint the town!" Don gave him the Roman army salute and the driver comically bowed, and Donny said, "Okay Louiggi, let's get this dog and pony show on the road!" After Louiggi got Les in the car, Don grinned when he noticed the driver giving the doorman another brush-off gesture as he ushered him to the street side door. The doorman dutifully returned the slight with a quick upward thrusting of his fisted hand indicating up-yours. Once in the car he exclaimed, "Wow, no love lost between you two, eh Louiggi?" The driver assured him "No problem Signor Don. You donna worry about dat pig!" The way he spit that out with such vehemence was actually comical, and the three of them had a quick round of subdued chuckles. As the cab pulled out, Donny glanced back at the doorman and shrugged his shoulders as a conciliatory offering, but the doorman returned Don's sheepish gesture with a glare before turning his head away. Don muttered, to no one in particular, "Hey, we're just innocent bystanders here man, don't blame us..."

Once they were back on the Via Roma, Don instructed Louiggi to take them to the Quattro Canti district, and they arrived shortly in front of the Piazza del Parliamento, which was just in front of the Norman Royal Palace. Before departing the cab they made arrangements to call him on his cell phone when they were ready for pickup.

The weather had cooled and the sky was a gorgeous Brandeis blue. The first thing they noticed in the square was the statue of Phillip the 5th, flanked by Palm trees, and Donny exclaimed, "Why just a statue? They could have made it into a really cool fountain," and Lesliea countered, "Honey, have a little respect! Don't try to rewrite the Baroque era..." There were dozens of pigeons resting on it and circling overhead – all vying for scraps left behind by tourists. The palace towered monolithically behind Phillip, and they used it as a backdrop for several pictures. Les was an adept photographer, and she used her Nikon P900 skillfully to capture some still-life shots and a few of Don's comical poises. Donny took the camera and was trying to get a selfie of them with the palace as a backdrop, and an old Sicilian man in a tweed cap and herringbone jacket, seeing his predicament, offered assistance. Don had the impression he didn't speak English, but he looked harmless enough, so after a brief instruction, the man snapped two shots for them. "Grazie, grazie senor!" The old man smiled and quietly muttered, "At your service Don Cuillo..." and walked off. Don's jaw dropped, "Hey, hey! How'd you know my name?" But the old man kept going. Turning to Les he exclaimed, "Honey, he knew my name!" But she was snapping shots at the palace again... The familiar old queasiness was wrenching his gut again; as he was reminded again of the weird dream they were in, but he buried it immediately...

The palace was also being the seat of the Sicilian parliament and the traffic was thickening as buses roared and belched diesel smoke as they disgorged their passengers. The crowds were growing too prompting them to move inside. They had the good fortune to be just in time to catch a tour. After being inundated with Norman/Sicilian culture for an hour, they broke from the group and found a bench in one of the corridors so they could rest there sore feet. Taking the opportunity to fine tune their plans, Don vetoed a long walk over to the old Ballaro Market in favor of a cab. They decided to try and hail one rather than calling Louiggi. Collecting their things, they walked over to the Via del Bastione and were able to hail a cab within a minute. Les, who's Sicilian was better than Don's, instructed the driver to take the scenic route to the Via Ballaro and they had him drop them off in the heart of the old world market.

Ballaro was not really a tourist attraction. It was more a place where Sicilians did their day to day shopping. It was basically a narrow avenue of store fronts with large canopies to keep shoppers from roasting under the hot Sicilian sun. This is where they would have an opportunity to sample real life in Palermo. Ballaro had everything from fish mongers to street vendors selling children's toys. It was mainly a farmer's market though, which was the real deal for anyone trying to catch a slice of local Sicilian life. These were the real people going about their daily lives, and that was exactly what the wanted to experience. They set about excitedly exploring the place, strolling past the shops and taking short segways down the pleasant little alley ways and side streets that were basically extensions of the main market. Don obliged Lesliea as she browsed dozens of stands for souvenirs and he did a little poking around himself, and actually purchased some fruit to take back to their room.

He knew that his wife, in her beautiful way, was thinking of everybody but herself; picking up little trinkets for the kids back home and several presents for friends and family. He loved her for this and got a kick out of watching her haggle with the various vendors as he did his own manly standoff shopping. Rejoining her, they collaborated on the purchase of a few more small gifts for her parents, grandmother, and other family members. They even picked up a very cool wool peasant cap for his dad, Vincent. Don smirked as he realized it reminded him of the hat Michael Corleone's bodyguard wore in the Godfather when he was hiding out in Sicily. As fast as the thought came, a chill ran up his back, and he suddenly had the innate sense they were being followed. He began scanning the crowds around them taking care to be as innocuous as possible, but he spotted no one. However, he was certain that someone was tailing them, and along with that sense – the impending feeling that something very dangerous was closing in on them...

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