World Conference: Out with Italy Veneziano

"All right, who wants to come explore Lucerne with me?" You looked around the kitchen. There weren't too many people there since it was early on a Saturday. However, you wanted to have all day in the Swiss city so you made sure to get up early.

Italy Veneziano finished stuffing his German pastry into his mouth. "I'd love to escort such a pretty girl in a pretty city. Germany, do you want to come, too?"

"Nein, I'm eating." Germany took a long sip from his coffee. You figured he'd thank you later for taking Veneziano out for the day and giving him some peace.

You looked around at the other people. They all carefully avoided eye contact. "Well, I've done all I can do. I guess it'll just be you and me, Veneziano, from here on out," you quoted. You let him put his dishes away before heading down to the street, arm in arm. It was early May and you twirled in the warm sun and the cool breeze blowing in from the lake. The pedestrians around you stared at you, but Veneziano was quick to join in your dance.

"Well, [Name], this is your party. What do you want to do?" He stopped twirling to look at you. You tried to stop as well, but your momentum and dizziness made you stumble. He caught your arm to steady you.

"I thought we could explore the streets; maybe see the old wall, first. Then we could go out on the lake in a pedal boat in the afternoon when it's hot. I really want to go up Mount Pilatus, but I think I'll just settle for staying in town today. Maybe we could get some fondue for lunch."

"That sounds great. Maybe we'll have time for a siesta, si?"

"Perhaps." You laughed and then the two of you picked a direction and just started walking.

The city was really beautiful. The buildings had wonderful paintings on the outside. Veneziano could have spent a very long time looking at them, but you wanted to keep moving. You went into a few shops, but you didn't really want to buy anything today. However, you did get a tourist packet and took the complimentary voucher to get a souvenir spoon. The streets were narrow, but the stone made it very charming. You would stiffen a bit when a car occasionally crept by, but there was still enough room to get out of the way.

Every so often you would find a little square with a fountain in it. You had been out for a while when Veneziano ran up to one and cupped the water in his hands to drink.

"Veneziano, what are you doing? That's a fountain," you said quickly, an eye on the locals to see if they were going to make a big deal about it.

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "I'm getting a drink, [Name]. It's okay, it's why they're here," he said. "Come on, try some! It's cold, clear mountain water."

"I still think they'd prefer it if you used a bottle." You had finished the water you brought earlier, but you were glad you hadn't thrown away the bottle yet. The spigot was shaped like a little winged dragon with water pouring out of its mouth. You examined it as you waited for your bottle to fill. You couldn't decide if it was cute or creepy.

You both took a break, sitting on the shady side of the fountain. Switzerland was so beautiful, and the weather was perfect. Something caught your eye.

"Hey, what are those weird signs outside of the shops?" The signs were metal and were mounted high up on the walls, sticking out from the sides of the building. The ornate decorations were black and gold. They were all different, but you noticed that each one had a main symbol on it.

Veneziano looked where you were pointing. "Oh, those are the old shop signs. They had those so that people who couldn't read would know what kind of negozio it was. See, that one is a deer, so it's a butcher. The one with the grain on it would be the baker. There are a lot of different ones. I don't know what that eagle means."

"I don't care what everyone else says about you, you're actually smarter than you look," you teased.

He smiled widely. "Si, but only when it comes to food, art, and culture. And running away." He stood and offered you a hand. "Let's go see the bridge."

By the time the two of you had marveled over the paintings that told the history of Switzerland and looked over the tower nearby, you had just enough time to scale the old walls before getting lunch. When you first started out, you were glad that the stairs were inside out of the sun. It was getting a lot hotter. However, once you figured out how many and how steep the steps were, you groaned. This would make you sweat the most. Finally you made it up to the top of the wall, and stepped out into the breeze eagerly. You were a little out of breath. Not only did you climb the several flights in the tower, but there had been a lot of steps just to reach the wall in the first place.

"Do you want a drink of water, Veneziano?" You offered up the bottle first, even though it only had a little bit left. It would have been smart to fill up before you started climbing.

"Ah, grazie, [Name]," he said as he chugged it all in one swig. Suddenly Veneziano looked stricken. "You didn't have any for yourself, did you? Hold tight, I'll go get more right now." He ran off before you had a chance to say anything.

You leaned over the back of the wall, looking at the Swiss children playing outside of their school. "He'll be so tired by the time he gets back that he'll have to drink it all anyway," you said quietly. Still, he was really sweet. You let the cool air drift over you as you admired the views from the ancient wall. Switzerland really was beautiful. The nearby Alps and Lake Lucerne brought the sense of wilderness to you, but you still had this modern town to enjoy the history and culture. It was getting fairly warm, which had surprised you at first, but you definitely preferred it over cold. Well, that would probably come in the winter.

You walked down the wall and were looking at the other tower when you heard Veneziano return, sounding a little breathless.

"Ciao, [Name]. I brought you the bottle. Go on, have a drink. I took my time so that I wouldn't need one," he said, looking expectant.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that the cool breeze and shade from the evergreens had cooled you off already so you took a good long drink.

He beamed at you, but still panted. "There, that's better, right? Now do you want to go to the top?"

"I think I'll let you enjoy the view for awhile. It sounds like you need it," you said. He just laughed at you, but soon became as engrossed in the scenery as you had been. Even if you lived there forever, you didn't think you would get tired of it.

"This is an even better view than from the garden," Veneziano said. "I'm glad I came with you today, [Name]."

"I'm glad you came, too. This has been a lot of fun. Are you ready for more stairs?"

The both of you climbed up to the top of the tower. The last flight of stairs was so steep and narrow that you used your hands to grip the stairs in front of you. Veneziano was the first one up and, laughingly, called down, "Hey, I hope you brought a pen."

"What?"

"You'll see, just fretta!" His face disappeared and you heard him mumbling a few things before saying, "I love the Backstreet Boys?"

"Well, that's embarrassing" you said finally reaching the top. You understood now; there were several beams running through the top of the tower. They were all covered in graffiti from tourists. People had written their names, where they were from, and even messages. Veneziano had been reading them. You smiled, looking over a few yourself. "Well, I do actually have a pen. Do you want to add yours?"

"Si," he said, snatching it out of your hands. He took a moment to find a good spot. "Feliciano Vargas, Italy Veneziano. Oh, and the date."

"Feliciano? Is that your name?" You had never heard of the nations having names before. They always referred to themselves by their country names.

"Nope! Well, sorta. It's a lot easier to use a fake name in public than to explain that we're a country to normal people. But we don't really use them between ourselves. A lot of nations don't even have one," he said cheerfully. "They're really helpful with the girls we date."

"So, who all uses a fake name," you asked, "does Romano have one?"

"He sure does. He's my fratello, so our names match. He uses the name Lovino Vargas. Isn't it shizzy? Oh, and Germany goes by Ludwig. And Francis is what all the girls call my big brother France."

"He's very creative, isn't he?"

"Oh, [Name], you know I'm not good with that sarcasm stuff. Come on, write your name up somewhere. I'll help you find a good spot."

After leaving your mark, the two of you spent some time reading what other people had left. It was only when Veneziano's stomach growled loudly did you realize that you it was already time to eat. You went back down the hill and found a restaurant that served fondue.

"This is my first time ever having fondue. I'm a little nervous," you admitted as you sat down.

"You're going to love it. The cheese and the potatoes taste real nice," he said.

"I thought they gave you bread to dip it in."

"They do, but it's not so nice," he said, frowning. "Oh, but you'll like the chili pepper they put in!"

"I'll have to disagree with you."

You let Veneziano take care of the order since you were going to share a pot. He was a gourmet, so you trusted him, especially when he ordered some wine for the two of you. When they set the pot down on the table you found that they did in fact have a small red pepper floating in the middle. He offered it to you, but you declined and he bit into it eagerly.  You waited to see what his reaction would be.

His face was pink – no, red. His eyes looked watery and he sniffled a couple of times.

"Are you okay, Veneziano?" The strained expression on his face was almost breaking your heart.

"I'm fine," he managed to say.  Finally he couldn't take it anymore and chugged his wine, which alarmed you.

"Whoo, that was great. You have to try it next time, [Name]." You made a note to not eat fondue with him again for awhile.

You took a piece of bread from the basket and dipped it. The strong flavor of the bread balanced nicely with the mixture of Swiss cheeses, but you thought the potatoes were a little too bland. That actually worked out really well because Veneziano was more than happy to eat the potatoes and leave you with the "burnt" bread.

You managed to limit yourself on wine this time, and you had a really enjoyable time talking to Veneziano about art and food. He entertained you with a lot of stories about Germany. When the check came you lunged for it but he was too quick.

"No way. I invited you out today so I'm going to pay," you said, holding your hand out stubbornly. "Hand it over."

"I can't let a signora pay for a meal. Don't worry about it, [Name], I'm happy to do it." He pulled out some Euros and placed them on top of the check.

"But you've already been a tour guide for me."

"Well, I guess if you insist–" he held the check out, but before you could reach for it, the waiter took it and the money away as he walked by. "Oops, too late." He laughed delightedly.

"You little sneak, you planned that." You frowned, crossing your arms. He calmed down and just looked at you innocently. You relented a little bit. "Well, thank you for the meal, Veneziano."

"It was my pleasure. Now, for a siesta!"

You managed to convince him that, since you didn't have a good place for a siesta without going all the way home, it would be best to go out on the lake first and call it a day a bit earlier.  This turned out to be a bad decision.

In order to get to the lake from the restaurant, you had to cross the one of the busiest streets in Lucerne. You swallowed hard, heading towards the crosswalk. You had never been good with cars coming at you; it almost amounted to a phobia. However, Veneziano grabbed your hand and lead you the other direction.

"Come on, [Name], let's just go across here. It's faster," he said, pulling you straight out into the road. Your eyes grew big, but you didn't have time to react before you noticed the cars hurtling towards you.

"V-Vene-Vene-Veneziano," you cried, but he didn't hear you. It was all you could do to keep up with him before you reached the median. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you made up your mind that you wouldn't go on. You would stay here in the median forever if you had to.

The Italian didn't notice your distress and stepped out to cross the other side of the street, ignoring the large truck headed for him. "No," you yelled and yanked him back, just in time. He stumbled back into you and the both of you toppled over.

"[Name], what's the matter?" Veneziano leaned over you, trying to see if you were hurt anywhere.

"Don't go out there, I don't want to go out there, please," you pleaded in a small voice. Tears streamed down your cheeks. "Please, I don't want to get hit," you said as you grasped his jacket. "I don't want you to get hit. Stay here. Please."

"Okay, I'll be right here. But you seem hurt, so I think we ought to get you help–"

"Whoa, dudes, hang on. I'll be right there, [Name]!" That was America's voice, yelling from the side of the road. He ran to the nearest crosswalk and waited impatiently for the light. He knew that you couldn't stand it if he'd put himself in danger by going to you directly. When traffic slowed, he ran down the median towards you. Then he punched Veneziano on the shoulder.

"What were you thinking, Italy? [Name] is afraid of cars," America scolded. Veneziano, surprised, immediately started crying and apologizing profusely. "Dude, calm down. First we have to get her out of here. Alright, [Name], I'm going to pick you up and carry you to safety."

You nodded weakly, still crying. Veneziano had almost been hit by that truck. When you thought about it again you cried even harder; losing a friend after such a perfect day would have been intolerable. America lifted you up and took you down to the crosswalk. As you waited for the light to change you took deep breaths trying to calm down. The scent of America's leather jacket was surprisingly soothing.

The light turned and once again you were back on the sidewalk. America set you down on a bench a good distance from the street and stood in between you and the cars. He knew that having at least a semblance of a shield helped you handle your fear. The two men waited anxiously as your breathing returned to normal and you were able to wipe the tears from your eyes.

America handed you a handkerchief. "Hey, are you alright? I think we should get you home for today."

When you finished using the handkerchief, you held on to it to wash later. You smiled softly. "Yeah, I think I should go back and rest." You looked over at Veneziano who was watching you anxiously with tears in his eyes.

"Mi dispiace, [Name]. I'm sorry I didn't know and I feel horrible and I hope you're all right and I want to make it up to you so please don't hate me please," he babbled.

"It's okay, Veneziano. We'll just go with your plan and have a siesta today. Maybe we can come back out to the boats another time."

He nodded, still crying. The three of you waited until your legs were strong enough for you to walk back, and then set out for the World Conference Building. You let Veneziano put his head on your shoulder as you walked; you didn't blame him at all for what happened, and you knew that this would comfort him.

"Hey, America?" You looked over at him, trying not to dislodge the Italian.

"Yeah, [Name]?"

You gulped, knowing what you were getting into. "Thanks for coming to my rescue. You really were a hero." America chuckled, but he surprised you by not going into hysterics.

"Of course. I'm always here for you, you know?"

"But there's one thing I want to know," you said.

"Hit me."

"How did you know to show up right when I needed you?" You thought you saw a weird look cross his face before he answered with a big, goofy grin.

"The Hero always shows up at the perfect moment to swoop in and save the day!"

"Oh go put your head down."