Young Martin Adventures

A Tale Of Young Martin Steeves_The Pirate Balthasar Secret Santa 2011.

By elianthos He could still not get used to the cold, and to the soft yet crunchy whiteness under his feet. So much for Irish family roots…

And he always have to mind his head unless he wished to bump it against the porches here. But at least with so many towers around he felt less out of scale. Or so his university mates liked to tell him.

Ditto on the ladies. The ladies from Bologna were really pretty and looked just like out of Carracci’s and Guercino’s paintings, and they whispered with a lovely, vaguely hypnotic accent even if this made occasionally hard for him to understand the words… he got the ‘ bellissimo’ and the ’towering, tall, handsome Hercules’ but what was all that ‘feed the salami’ talk about? Surely his university fellows would clarify the subtleties of Italian language and of the ladies’ talk to him yet again…

‘Oy, watch it Martin!’ . *PAFF* *SPLAT* down his neck the freshest fresh snowball went, courtesy of one of the aforementioned uni fellows grinning from ear to ear and prancing around gloveless and without a cape nor hat, blond hair and glinting eyes and glowing cheeks like some tipsy elf.

Luckily for Martin’s neck the third member in their little company seemed more into sketching than into playing hide and seek plus snow fight under the Garisenda tower. And, Martin noticed with a smile while shaking his head and fingercombing some snow dust off his own blond strands, their third companion was sitting on the other blonde’s cape, happily soaking half of said cape in the fresh snow , half covering his head with a welcome extra layer of warmth.

‘It’s just a bit of… heaven’s flour as they’d say in your country, isn’ it ?’ Steeves replied as soon as the shorter blond came closer, while patting him on the neck oh-so-casually with his snowcoated glove.

The other youth stiffened and shuddered for an instant before retaliating with his cold fingers as high as he could reach… when a twin set of snow balls met both of them full in the face. And then a soggy cape fell on them like a blanket.

‘Behave, kids. It’s getting dark. And you, don’t tease your big brother…’ The third guy brushed off the snow from his hands and laughed at the muffled (combined) replies ‘I’m not his brother!’ ‘Why do they always take us for brothers?’ - ‘I go along with it out of the goodness of my heart’ as he herded their blanketed forms to the closest trusty tavern.

--One ‘Ooh, my dearest customers! My little daughters really enjoyed your drawings and chatters about them all day! Ah, Lucia, bring two servings for the blond brothers and his cousin! And warm wine! Enjoy our Christmas student menu!’ later, the trio landed a good seat and table, in a niche against the wall but not too far from the fireplace. Martin knew his looooong legs would get cramps later but couldn’t really complain… the food there was excellent and so was the ‘special oltremontani brothers discount’.

‘Now, this is heaven’s flour! And it’s piping hot! Don’t you agree, brother dearest? ‘ said brother would have glared at Martin over a mouthful of lasagna if he wasn’t already busy exchanging glances with the tavern maid – or, to be more precise, diverting her glances from his ‘brother’ and ‘cousin’ to completely towards himself - .

‘Let him have his own style of piping hot, cousin Martin. By the way this must feel good after the cold meals in the collegium.’

‘Indeed it is. The warm wine smells delicious too’ ‘How can you tell when you never drink wine? Ah yes, because of *that*’.

Martin blushed a little. He had stumbled and fell into one of the family cellars fermentation barrels years before. It took him a while to half swim half climb out of it… His sister still chided for that sometimes in her letters from home. And his present auburn-haired ‘cousin’ still hadn’t persuade him to pose as Bacchus.

‘Well, your lips have barely touched food or drink as well’ Martin observed.

As if on cue, the other blond claimed both of their untouched glasses : ‘Good thing you had such long legs as a child already, man. Cheers to our skills and fortune, to love and life!’ he took two generous sips from each and some apples from his purse before handing his satchel to the other two men with a wink and a handful of coins.

Martin tried not to stare at his and the maid’s merry ascent upstairs but he a jolted bit at the sudden touch of one hand coaxing his mouth close. The hand’s owner looked at him between smugness and sympathy, his back at the wall and switching to a more relaxed, waiting position, while pushing with one foot the now free stool closer for the man to cross his ankles upon comfortably.

‘Your jaw was hanging, cousin’ as he eventually made his toast and handed him an apple before grabbing another from the satchel for himself.

--‘Aw, look, the moon is already high.’ The two shorter men were at Steeves’ sides, sometimes jokingly clinging to his arms to test how much he could rise them from the ground, sometimes just pushing and pulling him to try the fine art of sliding on the ice patches and turn into a still attractively dishevelled heap in the middle of the road.

Their puffs of breath like were tiny clouds in the otherwise clear as crystal night air. Martin still marvelled at it. The sharpness and crispness of a snowy winter night. Not really something he was used to before leaving the southern coasts of Spain.

‘It is a magnificent night indeed’ More puffs of breath as they stared at the sky, ass freezing on the snow-covered cobblestones and collective laughter ready to bubble and spill in spite of that. Or maybe just because of it. ‘ You can make out the Milky Way better than usual even. Hmm… I didn’t grab my telescope from our room’.

‘You can always draw the lunar craters, the moon is full and clear tonight’.

‘Ah, you two go to your telescopes, I’m better with microscopes. I’d like to analyze these snow crystals with it’ The different shapes of the flakes were stark against their dark gloves.

‘Can’t you draw them?’

‘Look in my sketchbook, Martin’ ‘ But when did you…’

‘Last winter’ ‘There are so many and so detailed. I thought you were all into drawing people. I mean, at the tavern, in the aula magna, this afternoon… Wait.’ Steeves kept leafing through the sketchbook ‘ These are all portraits of me. And here I’m naked’ ‘Nude, not naked’.

‘Do… do you… like me?’ At this the other blond was rolling his eyes. ‘Martin, going by the times and fashions he drew me as well I wouldn’t be as pure as this snow since forever’ ‘Thank you for advocating my cause cousin, although your virginity or purity should really not be brought up to prove anything’ a handful of snow was dodged by millimetres before the artist turned to his latest model. ‘No, Martin, the ladies love you that way. Your portraits are a bit of a sensation in some circles. Ah, your jaw is hanging again’.

‘No good in this cold’ and his self-appointed brother was the one to close his jaw this time before continuing ‘Now, now, brother, our cousin here draws anything that interests him. Nothing too personal, you know. For research. Don’t get strange ideas. Talking about interests… how is your miniature medallion portrait he painted? Did your sister like it?’

‘She was delighted, and so were my nieces and nephews. I was going to show you her letter back at the tavern. Well, actually the boys were more into your sketch of the dragon. You know, like when

I brought them the scallop shell from St James of Compostela and they were hoping for a scale of the pagan dragon instead…’ Martin leaned closer to the auburn-haired man with an expression akin to hero worship ‘thank you for painting it.’

‘Happy to save your Cool Uncle reputation any day---hompf’ Martin had glomped him and - oh, the horror – the Handsomest Man in Europe had little tears of gratitude springing at the corners of his eyes ‘I’m so grateful. Nak-nudes drawings notwithstanding, I so wish you were my cousin for real.’

‘Seeing as your sister is taken already… is this a proposal?’

Their companion was already standing to defreeze his butt ‘And here I thought someone was all worked up about you liking him’ ‘But I do like him’ he marginally loosened his hugging grip on the squirming dark-haired man as he addressed him ‘I do like you. Just not in that way.’

‘Same here, oh Bellissimo Ercole. Not that there would be anything bad about liking someone that way. Whatever rocks your boat. Look at Michelangelo! Look at the Fair Youth! Look at Plato. Nah, you theologist nut you, keep to your Aristoteles and Aquinas’.

‘I like Athanasius Kircher too… and he has dragons. ’ the tall man offered.

‘I’m pretty sure your nephews love his China Illustrata then’.

‘You too… unless you just like it for the pictures and to hide your Galilei ‘s and Bruno’s texts inside’ ‘Oh. You noticed. Were you looking for the pictures and the dragons? Among my personal stuff ?’ *pointed look* Martin was blushing again under those piercing brown eyes ‘Ehm… But Galilei once you actually read him is pretty good. Nice prose, not as complicated and not too flowery according to what I could translate. I wish he had wrote more in Latin though.’

‘Oooh, I can feel my butt again! Brother and cousin, I wish we could discuss of potentially heretic matters by a nice fire and in our cozy room if you don’t mind. I just have this nice herbal tea recipe to test too…’

--Martin spent the rest of the night between devouring forbidden texts ( ‘of course I’m not against of a potentially infinite cosmos. - The world itself is bigger than we thought and the more we know the bigger it gets! - How many Finis Terrae have you’ve visited already, Martin? I could name a handful of my own. - And we haven’t even travelled to the west Indies! - The only Pillars of Hercules I see are the ones of people always stuck in books and never trying to use their own intellect to test their supposed knowledge. - Especially among our professors’ ) and teasing about dragons and more munching apples. Talking about snacks, after rummaging in his own little bag, Martin remembered_ ‘I’m afraid they got a bit squished when we fell before but… well, let’s break them and look with our own eyes, as true scientists do, shall we?’ in his big hands two pomegranates appeared. ‘They should be well ripe and juicy straight from Granada.. With many thanks on my sister’s account’.

‘Oooh, indeed these would make Solomon and my brother self proud! Cousin, leave the tricky Cassiopeia and Orion to their heavenly deeds and come eat’ said cousin relinquished his precious spy glass while mumbling something along ‘indeed, the luminosity is abnormal’ but stopped in his tracks as he eyed the fruit treat, then Martin.

‘Steeves, you do like me that way after all. ’ ‘I’m afraid I don’t follow you’ ‘Ooh, come on you, leave him be and sit by his side. If anything I’m the one married to him via pomegranate seeds already’.

‘Oh. I think I got it. ’ ‘I’ll be your Side by your side, brother dearest. Ubi Caius Ego Gaia, fruit style’ ‘Little cousin, you’ve got your mythology mixed up and my big cousin looks now like a very puzzled Orion’. He winked at the other blond while picking some seeds from Martin’s plate and

placing his hand on his shoulder: ‘May the seeds of knowledge assist us hunters of truth and adventure, be it on land or sky or water. Per seguire virtute et canoscenza’ ‘… in sickness and in health?’

‘Look at our pious oh-so-not-Tychonian-anymore theologist cracking religious puns. I’m so proud of you, brother. What’s next?’

Martin pondered a bit over his herbal tea - good for colds, hangovers and vigour according to their medicine companion a.ka. little brother. Well, the taste was not bad so far - , his ears pink.

‘Somehow I’m suspecting women’s matters’ ‘Sooo, have you finally discovered your Eos, your Beatrice? L’amor che muove il sole e le altre stelle? The one lady to make you tongue-tied and basically look like a fool but still a handsome one?’

‘Well, if you would not mind educing me in the matters of Christmas customs in this country… there was this pretty lady in the church the other day looking very hungry while asking me to please feed her the salami. Do we exchange food gifts baskets or…’ Steeves had to stop in bewilderment as twin spewed drinks entered his corner of vision like happy mini geysers from both sides.

--‘You know, I don’t believe standing on the shoulders of giants was to be taken literally, somehow’ ‘Just step a bit on the left… I can almost grab the balcony edge. Can you stand on your toes? You can stop holding my ankles, I just need an instant ’ Martin shifted a little under the other’s weight on a small traitorous ice patch as the third man steadied him on the side.

‘Ssssht’ They both stared under the window as their friend courtesy of stepping on Martin’s head climbed briefly inside at last. ‘I always wonder how he can do it. He knows his way around my room better than I do ’ His hands kept rubbing the top of his head ‘Just be thankful he’s saving your ass from that fasting punishment nonsense. Now go, quietly.

You’re early enough for your morning prayers’ Martin glanced at the rope ladder reaching down, then at the other man urging him on top. ‘All clear, just hurry. ‘ Soon after he was pulled inside with a huff ‘You’ve gotten better at this. But you also got heavier.

We need some more healthy fencing. Well, see you later Steeves’ ‘Thank you. Are we meeting for the Christmas mass then? I really want to see the Presepe but that lady will be there and I don’t know what to do. Help me please ? In sickness and in health?’

‘Ooh, goodness. All right I’ll aid you in the perilous quest against the dragon lady of the unholy salami. Leave our Lancelot off the hook today though, he’s going to the botanical gardens . Oh, I don’t need the ladder on the way down’ .

Martin could barely turn to handle him his Christmas basket - containing along with chorizo and cava a thanksgiving literal salami and prosciutto for good measure – that all he could glimpse were his friend’s long hair streaming as a comet as he jumped framed by the first rays of sunlight. A twin set of running footprints in the snow was all could be heard and seen by the time he appeared at his window.

--‘That’s what happens when you leave me out of your amorous quests’ ‘Oh, come on. It’s just a scratch. Uhm… this poultice smells familiar’ ‘Sure. Humour me. You just had to pick the prettiest and furnished-with-the-most-jealous-husband lady in the whole city.’ The youth turned to momentarily address the other man in the room ‘Honestly, even from my supposed relatives I’d expect better sense. I’m the younger irresponsible brother here. Ah! As if!’

‘And yes, cousin dearest, remember when you dropped the wooden ball on my brother Martin’s foot during your little gravity experiment? I’ve improved on the ointment recipe. Should heal faster and contrast the bruising too. If someone hadn’t borrowed my flax seed oil for his painting

experiments I could have made more and spread it more evenly. Ah, Martin, hold it here as I fix the other bandage on him now. And then I’m checking your forehead’.

‘It’s.. throbbing, but it doesn’t hurt. Not much. Thank you’ he had managed to duck his head save for the last low porch and hanging wooden tavern sign after a quick turn of the road, with a very jealous husband and his armed servants in hot pursuit.

‘I’m very sorry Steeves. The moment I dodged the ‘Sweet Cassiopeia Tavern’ sign was already too late to warn you.’

‘I’m glad all the same. We managed to see the Presepe! How moving and pretty. And there are the sleeping sheperds and the wondering women, as if it was just happening on the street. I like it. It’s simple and lively’ ‘Good to know, as I had no pretty cloth or coral or alabaster to spare.’ At such words the other blond brought up a wooden box from underneath his fellow’s bed.

Under the the kufic characters carvings of the lid Martin’s eyes were greeted by a little clay presepe, the figurines as neatly molded and draped as the Michelangelo’s sculptures in San Domenico. The one-winged angel looked suspiciously like himself, and among the figurines he could recognize both some of his university friends’ and relatives’ faces. And there was a dragon too.

He was dangerously close to tearing up, but managed to just sneeze and stutter his gratitude when his bandaging companion started frowning at one of the figurines before pointing a finger at their resident artist ‘Oy, cousin, that’s my face on that dragon!’ and tightening said cousin’s bandages a bit tighter than necessary. The patient managed a very manly yelp, all things considered.

All things considered, it was one of the best Christmases Martin ever had. …But the best ships are friendships, And may they always be.

--The sails were ready, his men were on board. Martin stood by the dock inhaling the salty breeze.

It barely seemed winter again to him now, without a thick layer of Italian snow and barely a cloud of breath whenever someone spoke. .

He held his clay angel tight before kneeling down to hug his nephews, eventually handing the figurine to his sister and smiling back at her.

'As father used to say… a sunbeam to warm you, a moonbeam to charm you, a sheltering angel, so nothing can harm you' ‘I feel already pretty sheltered and charmed and warm, thank you. Look at this little angelic army.’

Her children giggled and echoed their mother’s farewell ‘But I’ll miss you. May St. Patrick and St. Jordi be with you. May the wind carry you safely to your destination and back’.

She dropped her family portrait pendant into his lingering hand as she touched the similar pendant hanging from her neck, her fingers curling over his as he stepped away.

And off he went to earn his missing wing.