“I don’t know!” She threw a hand in the air and then used that same hand to snag a Nemo pool float. “My Sight isn’t that great, obviously. I’ll cover my bases.” She retrieved the can of mace from her purse.
She pulled open the front door, looking absolutely ridiculous as the Nemo float caught on the door frame and knocked theTangledbike helmet over her eyes. But in intrepid Chiara form, she wiggled her way down the stairs, intent on saving the man from . . . something.
I applauded her huge heart and willingness to help a stranger, but her methods left much to be desired. As usual, I was torn between hilarity and absolute frustration.
I glanced out the window at the lane below. Despite the encroaching dusk, I could see the tourist Chiara had noted. He bent his head down to a woman—I assumed it was his wife—and listened to her talk. She was motioning toward the lights of a restaurant across the harbor.
What was Chiara going to do?
I pushed myself into the wall beside the balcony and sank downward. That was the one beauty of thick Italian stone walls. There was enough space inside them for me to move while staying hidden.
I hit street level at the same time Chiara burst around the corner from the apartment stairwell. I kept my body within the wall, just allowing my eyes to peek out. Given the rapidly darkening sky, I didn’t think anyone would notice me.
The man and his wife whirled around at the commotion Chiara made, both staring at the bizarre sight of a tiny Italian woman in pajamas sporting a bike helmet and orange vest while carrying a large Nemo pool float.
It didn’t help that Chiara definitely had her crazy eyes on, too.
“Hi.” Chiara greeted them in English with a dazzling smile. “This is going to seem odd, but I think you might be in danger. Could you wear this please?”
Chiara extended the bike helmet to the man.
The couple looked at her and then looked at each other. Wisely, they took a step back, huddling closer together.
Chiara repeated the question, moving toward them, extending the orange security vest this time.
The man shook his head and said something in German. I’m assuming it was, ‘You seem like a crazy lady, so I’m leaving now’ though it could have been ‘I don’t speak English.’
Chiara repeated the question in Italian.
The man gave her an apologetic shrug and turned to leave, tugging his wife with him.
A comedy of errors ensued.
Chiara darted in front of them, blocking their escape. She then quickly placed the bike helmet on the man’s head. Handing the Nemo float to his wife, she attempted to wrestle the tourist into the security vest.
Understandably, the poor man kept trying to hand back the bike helmet, squirming away as Chiara continued to manhandle his person.
The whole scene was completely Chiara—hilariously appalling.
Giving up on the vest, Chiara grabbed the pool float from the man’s wife and mimed swimming. By this point, the man had dropped the helmet and vest.
The couple pushed past Chiara, clearly trying to get away from this crazy Italian woman.
Given Chiara’s maniacal look, I couldn’t blame them.
The man took three steps down the lane, heading toward the central harbor. He turned back to see if Chiara was following him and stumbled over the uneven pavement. His wife reached for him but missed.
Chiara pressed forward, one hand outstretched toward the man, the other hand still clutching the Nemo floatie.
The floatie hit the man first.
The man pitched backward, falling over the low stone wall to the sea.
Frantically, his arms windmilled, struggling to find anything to hold on to. At the last second, one hand snagged the Nemo floatie.
His other hand connected with Chiara.
He locked his grip around her wrist . . .
