My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

49

“Well, it’s not a five star restaurant,” the admiral said in the Observation Nose , as we waited for the boys to return, “but the Ristorante da Dora is pretty darn close to it, and frequented more by the locals than the tourists. How much longer do you think before they return?”

“I’m not sure, but I have no doubt they’ll be back shortly unless...well, unless something happens.”

“Which it has,” Chip said as he approached.

“I didn’t hear you piped aboard,” the admiral said.

“Didn’t want to make a fuss. Er, Admiral Nelson? I don’t suppose you have a couple hundred dollars on you?”

I think I groaned. “Where’s Lee? What’s happened?”

“Oh, he’s fine...but er..he’s at the police station. They took away his license for safe keeping until he can pay the fine.”

“What fine?” I bellowed.

“For speeding. Um, they won’t take credit cards or traveler’s checks, just cold hard cash...”

“I have half a mind to let him stew there awhile,” I said. “What about Sophia? Didn’t warn him that he was speeding?”

“Sophia?” the admiral asked.

“On board Artificial Intelligence," I explained.

"Oh, she did warn him," Chip said, "I guess he was just having too much fun going fast to comply."

"Admiral," I said, " I hope you don’t mind a brief detour? I need to find the nearest ATM.”

“There’s one right here on the base at the credit union.”

“O’Brien?” I called out, “we’ll be at the Ristorante da Dora after a brief detour to the police station.”

“Oh shit. The skipper in trouble again?”

“Apparently. Speeding ticket and needs to borrow a little cash.”

“If I can help...”

“No, I’ll handle it...”

“Aye, sir.”

I had to admit it was a smooth ride in Lee’s Lamborghini, and Sophia’s sultry voice gave Chip directions to the credit union on base even before the admiral did.(Some things weren’t classified.)

 I withdrew the Italian equivalent of four hundred dollars. Far too much for Lee’s fine, but figured the funds might come in handy and I could always change them back.

At first, when we entered the police station, I was relieved to find out that Lee hadn’t been put in a cell. But as we were led to the Chief of Police, we could hear catcalls and whistles from some of the holding cells along the way.

“Occhi assuri! Voglinono un buon tempo?” some women prisoners called out.

“Seems they want to offer ‘blue eyes’ here a ‘good time’,” the admiral said with a smirk.

One of the women even pulled up her skirt to show off her scarlet red panties. Panties, I’m afraid to say, were rather...skimpy.

“Oh god,” Chip said, blushing, but he must have been secretly pleased that he was an object of such...adoration.

We finally arrived at the clerk's desk, where Lee was filling out paperwork. A woman passing by, who’d apparently just been released for some infraction, suddenly sat on Lee’s lap! Before she could be pulled away by one of the cops, she blew a kiss to Lee, and called out “mi chiamano sweetheart”, dragged away a final “Voglio entrare in pantaloni!”

“Oh Lord, I don’t think I want to know what that meant,” Lee said, putting his head in his hands, not having seen us.

“I take it Lee was propositioned, too?” Chip whispered to the admiral.

“Oh yes,” the admiral said. “She wants him to call her, and,” he hesitated, trying very hard to cover a smirk, “she said she wanted to get into his pants. Probably  had enough money tucked away some place on her to pay the fine for whatever she'd done.”

“Admiral?  Chip?” Lee called as he caught sight of us. “Thank God. You have to get me out of here! I wouldn’t have sent Chip back for you, Harry, but Joe’s still out with Mrs. P. and....”he stopped as a man in tight pants was being escorted out and eyeing Lee with lustful appraisal.

“Please, Harry, get me out of here?” Lee whined.

I held up a wad of money and the desk clerk waved another official over. The officer, a female,  pulled out the correct amount due, and wrote me a receipt, pulled out Lee’s international driver’s license from a locked drawer and handed it to him.

“Stupido!” the clerk told Lee. “Rispettare le regole promissa volta!”

“She means,” the admiral said, “obey the rules next time, among other things.”

“Yeah,” Lee said, “kinda’ figured the stupido part.”

“Well, heed it,” the officer said, in English, “we don’t need you rich Americans breaking the law because your rich daddies can bail you out.”

“I have my own money. You just don’t take credit cards or traveler’s checks!”

“What kind of tourist are you, anyway? American’s always have money.”

“I bet even the café down the street would take plastic. And I’d be treated with far more respect than you’ve shown No,” he suddenly added, contrite, “that’s not true. I’m sorry. You’re just doing your job. And it was wrong of me to speed.  I guess the car just got to me," he added, rubbing his stitches absently.

“You look familiar...”she said.

“Just have that kind of face, I guess.”

“Lee? Lee?” Jackson’s voice preceded him as he rushed over, Mrs. Piccadilly at his side. “We just heard...here,” he pulled out a wad of bills, joined by a pile from Mrs. P.

“Not necessary,” the officer said. “His daddy already paid the fine.” Then furrowing her brows took a closer look at Jackson. “Wait...you’re the man who came back to life when that tower fell! And...you,” she said, turning to Lee, “you must be the captain!”

“Guilty," Lee said.

“Well, it doesn’t change anything. Get another ticket and you’ll spend the night wishing you were anywhere but here. Understood?”

“Yes, officer.”

“All right. Here’s your release form. Keep it on hand for the rest of your stay in Italy. How, um, long is that going to be, anyway?”

“We’re leaving for Greece tomorrow,” Mrs. Piccadilly said, taking Lee’s arm.

“Too bad,” the officer said, “I’d have liked to show off Naples to the captain...”

“You still can,” Lee said with a grin, “in fact, I’ve been awfully rude. How about I make it up to you by taking you out to dinner tonight? If you’re not on duty, that is.”

“As a matter of fact, I’m not,” she began to write something on a message pad, “here’s my address and phone number. Pick me up at eight.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, giving her a little salute, then joined us. He almost stumbled over his feet as he turned to get another look at her as we neared the exit.

“I’m sorry to have interrupted your visit to the museum,” Lee said to Mrs. Piccadilly as we got outside.

“Nonsense,” she said, patting him gently on the cheek.

“We were planning on going to the Ristorante da Dora,” I said, “if you don’t mind lunching with our jailbird, why not join us there? His treat, by the way."

"Thank you, but I have plans with the group.”

“I have an idea,” Lee said, "perhaps we can join you? I'll spring for my friends.”

“Why of course, you’re all welcome!” Mrs. P. said, delighted.

And so, Lee drove the admiral and I in his car, following the taxi containing Joe, Chip, and Mrs. P. to the Umberto Ristorante, where we Lee was happily welcomed by his fellow tourists, and we dined on a rather tasty fish stew. Lee’s car, of course, was the main attraction, in full sight from the restaurant's windows, the diners oohing and ahhing its magnificence.

I had to wonder about Lee's date for tonight. Hoping that  trouble wouldn’t dare come his way with a cop at his side. But still....