Chapter 3 the violin thief

Aunt Jo’s house was a really nice one: classic and comfortable, with fine

furniture Uncle Reginald brought from Italy. The floor was a hazelnutbrown

parquet, covered with rugs of soft colors, and the sofas were comfy

and large, with the best embroidered pillows. There were two floors, and

Aunt Jo kept a room especially for Easy. There was nothing they were in

need of in that beautiful house, but Aunt Jo insisted that her nephew

should go to work.

“But Auntie, I don’t know anyone here! Where am I supposed to go looking

for a job?” Easy asked, worried, the following morning.

“Don’t you worry about that: I’ve found you a job as a cashier”

“A cashier? Like in a supermarket or something?!”

“No, like in a bookstore or something. Here- she forced a little piece of

paper in her palm- this is the address. Go out, before you miss the

subway!”

“Fine, ‘bye” Easy grunted.

“Bye bye, my dear. Good luck!” and she kissed her on her cheek.

Easy has asked her Aunt to pass by Central Park after work, to play her

violet for a bit. It was a bright day, not hot as the previous one, though.

In the subway it was a little bit difficult to find a seat, and she had to stand

this time. She obviously didn’t know that somebody, on a far seat behind,

was watching her. It was the guy with the red Converse, and he was

watching her under the brim of his hat. He’d thought about their weird

meeting and her beautiful eyes all over the night, and he came up to the

conclusion that he wouldn’t see her again anyway. But now that he found

her in front of him, he wouldn’t let her go so easily: he just had to find out

who she was.

But then, the strangest of the things happened: the tube reached the guy’s

stop, and the girl was getting out too! It was also her stop, after all.

After a jolt of excitement, the guy headed toward the door and exited with

Easy and all the dozens of other people.

He followed her very carefully, waiting for the right moment to pop out and

greet her. He noticed, however, that she was carrying an instrument case

on her back: from its volume and shape, he’d say it was an ukulele. Nah, it

was too big for an ukulele! It was a violin!

“A violinist, uh? We got a classic fellow here!” he thought, grinning.

Easy was looking around for an officer, to ask him where exactly “24/3,

West Road, Park Avenue” was, and stopped a moment to look better. But

suddenly, a strong hand pulled her back, almost making her tumble. It was

few moments later that she realized they’ve stolen her violin!

What a panic! She turned to look for the despicable thief, but she only saw

shadows walking past her, messed up, unfocused and her eyes started to

water. What was she going to do now?

“HEY! STOP!” a male voice shouted loud.

Easy turned and couldn’t suppress a smile when she saw the green-eyed

guy of yesterday. He started to run after someone, but with all that crowd,

it was difficult to see who. She moved, started walking, then racing after

the red cap, who was obviously running after the robber.

The guy was running very fast: he hadn’t run faster in his life, actually. And

his antagonist was a very athletic one, he had to admit it.

Now he saw him clearly, heading toward the main exit. He had to be quick

if he wanted to catch him.

“C’mon legs, faster!” he thought, pulling his chest out e contracting his face

with fatigue, while his legs were transforming into wheels.

The thief turned for an instant, worried, and he slowed that bit enough to

make the good-hearted guy jump over him.

They rolled over the ground, making the violin slip dangerously on the floor.

Easy arrived and quickly took it before someone could crack it under their

feet.

“Oh God, are you okay?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I’m alright” he answered, standing up. But the violin thief stood up

too and, scared, he put his whole big hand on the guy’s face, pressing him

to the floor again. With a burst, he ran away before Easy �"or the fat, lazy

cop hanging around there- could catch him.

She stretched out a hand to help him stand, and with a clap he caught it,

transforming the hold into a “shaking-hands”.

“Nice to meet you…again” he said, his cap still on the ground, showing his

curled hair of a dark caramel color.

Easy was so excited. Nothing of the kind had ever happened to her.

“That was so brave of you, and this violin means really a lot to me. Thank

you so much!” she said, smiling. “How could I ever reward you?”

Now, there were hundreds of things he could ask for, since he wanted to

make contact: her phone number, her Facebook account, her address, or

even just her name. But the only thing that came out of his mouth was:

“Can I walk you home?” that was the most stupid thing ever. Unless the girl

was a nightclub waitress or something, she really couldn’t be going home at

that time: it was 9 AM.

Easy couldn’t help laugh. “No, but you can walk me here, if you like”, she

said, handing him the bookstore address.

A little bit ashamed, he took it and read “24/3, West Road, Park Avenue”

and his mouth fall open.

“You must be kidding. Are you the new cashier?” he asked.

Easy was surprised. “Y- Yeah…yes I am! Well, I’ll be if I get the job…how do

you know?”

“Oh, the boss was looking for one so eagerly”

“You know the boss?!”

“Yes! And he’s absolutely the best guy you could ever meet” he blinked at

her. “C’mon, we’ll go together- he said, picking up his cap from the floor- I

work there too.”

“Really? What do you do?” that sounded so strange, and yet so amazing to

Easy. It seemed that they had to spend the whole summer together.

“Oh, everything and nothing” they got out from the dark subway to get

kissed by the nice sunshine of the street. “What’s your name, anyway?” he

asked, as they were walking together on the sidewalk.

“I’m Easy” she said, looking a bit up, as he was taller than she.

“Easy? Like, something that’s simple?”

“No, Easy like Isabella” she smiled, that guy had a sense of humor.

“Isabella -he pronounced it in a nice way, very differently from what the

others always did. It was like he was tasting a candy for the first time- well,

Isabella, I’m Ed”

“Ed for Edward, right?”

Edward. That name has always sounded like something old and unused to

Ed. Only his parents called him like that. “No, it’s Ed for Eddie”. They looked

to each other and laughed.