Until Tomorrow (31 page)

All their connections were smooth until they hit Milan. The train station was packed on this Friday night. Todd directed them to a ticket booth where they had to wait in a long line to make reservations and upgrade their tickets to first class. Todd kept checking his watch.

“Are we going to make the next train?” Christy asked.

“We have five minutes. Unless the train has been delayed, I don't think we'll make it.”

“What if we run to the train? We could stand in second class,” Christy said.

“Sure,” Katie agreed. “We've done it before.”

With another mad dash, they found the train to Venice, but the conductor wouldn't let them on. Reservations only. The train was packed. Everyone seemed to want to travel to Venice for the weekend.

They went back to the ticket booth and stood in an even longer line than before.

“How about if Christy and I find some food and bring it back to you?” Katie asked.

“I could sure use something to eat,” Todd said. “Thanks.”

“Sure. We'll be right back. Just don't leave this area, and we'll be fine.”

Christy stayed close to Katie. Their backpacks kept bumping into the mob of travelers. This was the busiest she had seen any of the train stations so far. She wondered if it was because school was out in the States as well as in Europe and throngs of students were just starting out on their adventures. Christy knew they had avoided some of that crowd by leaving on their trip so early in June.

“There's a pizzeria,” Katie said. “Let's buy some extra in case we're stuck here all night.”

After waiting in another long line, Christy and Katie bought a whole pizza and three sodas. The fragrant garlic and spices tortured Christy as she carried the pizza with both
hands back to the ticket booth. Todd still hadn't reached the front of the line.

Fifteen minutes later he joined them on a bench with the news that he had miraculously secured three seats in first class. The seats apparently were the only ones available for the next twenty-four hours.

“The only thing is,” Todd said after he handed them their tickets, “the train leaves at 6:00 in the morning.”

“Should we look for a youth hostel here in Milan?” Christy asked.

“I have a feeling it might be full already,” Katie said. “The tour book said the hostels in the major Italian cities fill up quickly, and you should check in early.”

Todd looked at his watch. “I'd say let's find a hotel, but I'm getting low on money. Which reminds me, I need for you both to pay me back for these first-class tickets. I'd like to say I could cover them for you but—”

“We planned to pay for them,” Christy said. “And the pizza is on us.”

They found a corner of the station away from the mobs and settled their money. Then they ate their cooled pizza and drank their warm soda.

“Where did all these people come from?” Todd asked.

“It looks as if summer travel in Europe has officially begun,” Christy said. She didn't like feeling sweaty, smelly, and sticky. Whatever they did tomorrow morning when they arrived in Venice, she hoped it included a shower.

The three of them took turns walking around the huge station. Katie bought some chocolate and a key chain souvenir. Several other American students stopped to talk to them. The travelers compared stories and gave one another advice and names of places to stay. Sometime around 2:00 in the morning, Todd ate the last slice of cold pizza. The scent of garlic in their small corner of the station overwhelmed Christy.
She turned down Todd's offer for another round of chess and tried to find a way to curl up against her backpack to sleep. Their spontaneous adventure to Venice was quickly losing its glamour.

Christy closed her eyes and leaned her head against her backpack. That's when she remembered the wild flowers. “Katie, where did we put that napkin with the wild flowers?”

“Oh yeah! The night is half gone, and we haven't been sleeping with our wild flowers. I think you put the napkin in your day pack.”

Rummaging around, Christy found the cloth napkin and opened it carefully. The brightly colored wild flowers were not only pressed, but they also had gotten crumpled and squished with some of the stems broken off. “Do you think it will still work?” she asked Katie. “Will we dream of our future spouses even if our flowers are mangled?”

“Hey, if we can manage to have any kind of pleasant dream in a place like this, I think we're doing okay.” Katie carefully extracted her seven flowers and folded them up in a wrinkled bandana scarf.

Christy found a piece of Italian newspaper and made a crooked sort of envelope in which to place her flowers. She slid the envelope into the zippered pouch on the front of her pack and tried to settle in so that her head rested against the pouch. She wiggled to get comfortable and opened her eyes. Todd was watching her with a smile. She smiled back.

“I want a full report on who you meet in your dreams tonight,” he said.

You know it will be you, Todd. It's always you. Only you
.

But all she said was “Okay.”

Christy didn't know how long she dozed. She didn't know whom she dreamed of or if she dreamed at all. Her sleep ended abruptly when she heard Katie scream.

“Get away from me, you creep!” Katie cried.

Through bleary eyes, Christy saw a large bald man bending over Katie, trying to talk to her. He reeked of alcohol.

As soon as Todd woke and said, “Be on your way, buddy,” the man ambled off, talking to himself.

“So much for the wild flower theory!” Katie said, sitting up and adjusting her sweat shirt.

“Are you okay?” Christy asked.

“That was a living nightmare,” Katie said. “There I was, dreaming of my mystery man, and then I felt someone touching my hair. I thought I was about to see the face of my true love, but when I opened my eyes, I saw
him!
”

Christy couldn't help but laugh. “Oh, Katie.”

Katie pouted.

Todd chuckled. “The moral of the folklore lesson could be that some mysteries are best left in God's keeping.”

“No kidding!” Katie said. “What about you, Christy? Who did you dream of? Or can we all guess?”

Christy could feel Todd looking at her, but she suddenly felt too shy to look back. She especially didn't want to say that she hadn't dreamed at all. “Some mysteries are best left in God's keeping,” she answered quietly.

The rest of the uncomfortable night on the floor of the Milan train station and the three-hour, early-morning train ride into Venice gave Christy plenty of time to think. The panic she had felt in Amsterdam had subsided. Now she knew how crazy it had been to even think of getting married in two months and going back to work at The Rock with Todd. The decision to finish her commitment at the orphanage and complete her course work was a good choice. She felt peace about following through on what she had begun.

What remained to be settled was her relationship with Todd. It bothered her a little that he hadn't kissed her since she had talked with him on the train ride into Amsterdam about saving her kisses. She hadn't meant for him to pull
back completely. While they had still been close these last few days, they weren't snuggly the way she wanted to be. Christy wasn't sure how she felt about that. Couldn't they be a little more affectionate? Or was this Todd's way of honoring her request to save their kisses?

Christy knew it would all settle itself once she and Todd had a chance to be alone and have a long talk.
But when is that going to happen? Our time together is slipping away. It's already Saturday morning. I don't mind staying in Basel another two months, but I don't think I can wait that long to have a heart-to-heart talk with Todd
.

23

When the train pulled into Venice at nine that morning, the place seemed like a different station from the quiet, nearly empty one they had stayed in two weeks earlier. It was alive with noise and throngs of travelers. Todd, Christy, and Katie found their way to the water taxi and climbed aboard with dozens of other students.

As the boat sped across the water, Christy shielded her eyes from the sun and tried to memorize the sight before her. Across the gleaming water was one of the more than one hundred islands that made up the ancient city of Venice. A tall spire stretched toward the sky. Dozens of tall, very old buildings stood close together. They reminded Christy of plump old ladies dressed in their Sunday best, sitting snugly beside one another on a church pew. Some wore hats. Some seemed to be holding large handbags on their laps. All the faces of the matronly buildings were adorned with smug grins, as if the women were listening to a sermon being proclaimed to them from the heavens, but all the while, they held in their hearts mischievous secrets of their past.

“What a place!” Christy declared as they stepped out of the water taxi. “I mean, I've seen pictures, and I've seen Venice in movies, but this place is larger than life.”

“Something is in the air, isn't it?” Todd said.

Christy sniffed but didn't catch any whiffs of garlic.

“No,” Todd said to her, “I mean, a sort of spirit is in the air. This city has seen it all.”

“Yes,” Christy agreed. “I was just thinking how the buildings all looked like smug old ladies sitting next to each other.” Todd grinned at her. “What should we do first? Eat or find a place to stay?”

Christy knew Todd would prefer finding some food. She would prefer a shower. Katie made the choice for them when she said, “Let's call Marcos.”

“We know where his father's jewelry shop is, right?” Todd said. “Let's go there and ask for him. He's more likely to be at the shop than at home. We can't assume that we can stay with him.”

“Can we stow these packs someplace?” Katie asked. “I'm sick of carrying this thing everywhere we go.”

“We can find the youth hostel,” Christy suggested.

A girl who had been standing nearby turned to them and with a British accent said, “They won't let you check into the youth hostel until three o'clock. It's very crowded. We found a hotel that's much closer. Would you like the address?”

“Yes, thanks,” Todd said.

The hotel turned out to be a good choice except that it was more expensive than the hostel. Todd admitted he was almost out of money; the plane ride from Narvik to Copenhagen had taken a huge chunk out of his budget. Katie said she figured she had about seventy-five dollars left, and Christy had a little more than that.

“We can pool our money,” Christy said. “Together we have enough to eat and pay for the hotel. What more do we want? We'll have to ride second class back to Basel, but that's no big deal. I think we'll be fine.” Her optimism as well as her suggestion that they all take showers before they headed out
again helped tremendously. They were starving by the time they left their hotel, but at least they were clean and didn't have to carry the heavy packs.

“Let's find a quaint, authentic place to eat,” Katie suggested. “None of these tourist traps. Then we can go to Savini Jewelers and see the rest of San Marcos Square.”

Following their noses, the three famished friends tromped down narrow alleys and over ornate bridges with absolutely no idea where they were going.

“I haven't seen a single restaurant,” Christy said. “Don't you think we should consult the tour book?”

Katie pulled out the book, and three postcards fluttered to the pavement.

“I can't believe I haven't mailed those cards yet,” Christy said, bending to pick them up.

“Isn't that a post office over there?” Todd asked, motioning toward the building two doors down from where they stood. “At least, that looks like a post office. That is a mailbox out front, isn't it?”

While Todd and Katie consulted the tour book for a good restaurant, Christy ventured into the small building. She found a short man sitting behind a desk, reading a newspaper. He wore wire-rimmed glasses that rested precariously on the end of his pointy nose. Christy handed him the postcards but didn't understand what he said to her. Trying to speak slowly in English, she handed him some change for the stamps. He licked the stamps for her and looked at her over the top of his glasses. Then he motioned with his free hand that she needed more money. Christy reached into her pocket and pulled out two more coins. The peculiar man shook his head as if it wasn't enough and then waved his hand and spoke a string of Italian words. She thought he was indicating that the amount was close enough, and she could go.

Christy walked back into the bright daylight shaking her head.

“Was it a post office?” Katie asked.

“I have no idea, but the odd little man in there put stamps on the cards and took my money, even though I don't think it was enough. If Seth's postcards ever reach Oregon, it will be a little miracle.”

“Those weren't your postcards?” Katie asked.