Page 43 of Storm and Sea

“I better get to work—bye!” Marina skipped off before the old woman could change her mind.

Yeah, she blew that. But the papers were in her hands, and that’s all that mattered. She’d be the BEST event organizer the island had ever seen.

Her fondest memories of summers spent on the island were of the Bayallon. Towards the end of World War II, the residents of Baia Vita were given the chance to view the Olympics for the first time. Until then, the island had never seen a television; instead, it got news through radio broadcasts. Recognizing the island’s morale was at an all-time low, the mayor purchased five television sets. He set up the small box screens inside city hall, allowing residents to watch the Olympic events.

The arrival of the revolutionary TV, combined with the thrill of Olympic competition, brought smiles to the island for the first time since the war began. In honor of the island’s favorite sporting event, they started their own tradition.

Children sixteen and under were invited to participate in the Bayallon at the end of every fishing season. With its vibrant festival, lively music, spirited dancing, and mouthwatering food, the Bayallon was Marina’s most cherished event of the year.

And now, she would be a part of it.

Marina hurried down the city hall steps, stumbling on the last one before catching herself with a mumbled “oops” and a light giggle. She skipped toward the town square, humming a cheerful tune.

To have a good race, she needed a lot of racers, so the sooner she began advertising the event, the better.

She was inside Signore Ignasio’s craft supply store, picking up paints and cloth to make banners, when a large group of women jostled in. Marina peered over a shelf to see several older women and perhaps one of their daughters chatting and perusing the shelves.

“I simply cannot go to my appointment in these rags. What do you think of this? It would make a nice skirt,” one woman said, eyeing a plaid pink fabric.

“What are you twenty years old?” another laughed.

“In spirit!”

“That would be more appropriate on your younger daughter.”

The other woman scoffed, turning to her daughter. “What do you think, sweetie? I’m still young enough for this color, right?”

“Sure, Mom,” but the girl wasn’t looking at the fabric. Her eyes caught sight of Marina, and the rest of the women followed her gaze.

“Little Signora Marcello!”

They scurried over as Marina tried becoming one with the wall. She knew that girl. Her name was Anna, and she despised every breath Marina took. She had espresso eyes and matching straight hair, not unlike most of the girls on the island. And Marina knew them all—it was hard to avoid each other when they had spent every summer on the same small island since she was nine. Except Marina was the only one who left every winter. Marina was the only one to inherit a substantial sum of money. And it was Marina who received a very expensive education on the mainland.

So, in the eyes of all her peers, it was Marina who didn’t belong.

She was privileged.

“So good to see you, dear. What do you have there? Making some summer clothes?”

“Oh no, I’m, uh, putting together a banner. I’m in charge of the Bayallon for the kids this year.”

“Are you now?” the woman tittered. “Well, it is only right that Mayor Gianfranchi put you in charge; such a smart girl.”

Marina smiled, trying her best to ignore the way Anna glared at her, as though she were a grouper Anna wanted to gut and toss overboard.

“I was just here to get some clothes for a new skirt; I have a doctor’s visit later this week. Tell me you’ve heard of him,” she said, likely as an excuse to talk about it.

“I’m afraid I haven’t.”

“Oh, my dear, he is—” she took a moment to catch her breath, “extraordinary.”

“And that’s putting it plainly,” another added. The women chortled. Anna rolled her eyes.

“He opened the hospital at the top of the hill. Dr. Romano is a blessing on this poor island. Set my son’s wrist in no time at all.”

“And my daughter’s new baby had the worst colic, but after seeing the doctor, she is sleeping through the night.”

“He sounds good,” Marina said, still trying not to make eye contact with Anna.