Desiree (standard:adventure, 2354 words)
Author: GXD	Added: Aug 04 2007	Views/Reads: 3445/2291	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Falling in love with a prince may turn out to be a cultural hazard.

DESIREE 

The Cincinnati-London flight continued onward to Bordeaux, Athens,
Ankara, Baghdad and Bombay.  Desiree got off in Sicily.  Halfway 
between Bordeaux and Athens, a pair of loud, brown flashes outside the 
plane caused it to roll and swoop down.  Two fighter planes paced their 
wingtips; passengers on both sides saw a pilot jerking his finger 
downward.  After a while, the plane headed down into a murky sky, 
clearly not far above the water. Flight attendants tried to ward off 
panic among the passengers. The pilot announced a touchdown in Sicily 
until the situation cleared up.  Desiree was bored. 

The plane was so close to the island that she could see Vulcano and
Stromboli, both of whom wore gray flags of ash.  Banking around 
Mt.Etna, the plane lined up on its runway at Palermo.  Desiree began 
packing things into her shoulder bag, buckled up her seat belt and 
leaned back in a half-doze. 

She dreamed she was modeling ballet shoes and cocktail dresses again.
This time she wore a yellow frock, her silhouette sharply outlined by 
her shadow on a Doric column.  But she was the photographer, too.  With 
a deep yellow filter on her best 210-mm zoom lens, Desiree saw herself 
create a panoramic view of Athens.  She was in an alley, photographing 
wrinkled old housekeepers clad in black, and runny-nosed children, when 
all at once a figure dressed in white came toward her, out of the sun, 
out of the west.  His bell-bottom trousers swung like a sailor's, hips 
keeling and yawing, pitching and tossing....  Suddenly, the air was 
full of static.  "Fasten seat belts" shouted the attendants, each in a 
different language.  Desiree wasn't sure whether all this was part of 
her dream. 

The plane screeched and swerved in a frantic attempt to stay on the
runway.  It trundled through potholes and over deep cracks until it 
came to a stop.  "Sorry, folks," grinned the captain from his cabin, 
"little hard landing there."  Desiree had no idea of how tightly her 
fists were clenched onto the seat arms, until one came off in her hand. 
 She sat there, holding it over her head, while people screamed around 
her.  Eventually, the panic subsided.  One by one, the passengers and 
crew were allowed to leave. 

Filing off the plane with the other passengers, Desiree thought to
herself, "Maybe this place has a few spots worth photographing".  She 
felt the tug of lost memories: a grape arbor under the ledge, the 
crooked stone sidewalks, her grandmother's old school, the tumbled 
monument to Garibaldi -- she remembered that her grandparents had 
emigrated from Palermo as children.  Italian phrases began coming back 
to her.  Through their memories, she knew that all these places 
existed, and she was going to find them!  And document them with her 
camera!.  To hell with Athens.  To hell with clouds of volcanic ash.  
Somehow she would get those photos. 

Two hours in the waiting room, queried by officials, passing papers,
finally wore out Desiree's patience.  "Andiamo, andiamo!" she shouted 
at one man who was clearly in command, "Lasciame fuori!  Let's go!, 
Out!" 

A hush fell over the customs hall.  "Where are you staying?" politely
asked the gentleman in charge.  "You see, we cannot permit anyone to 
leave unless you have a place to stay.  So, where will you stay?" 

Desiree, furious at having someone else's will imposed on her, gave way
to a wild impulse: "The palace, of course. Where did you think!"  A 
short silence followed.  The customs official examined her features 
closely.  Her dark eyes were set deep into her head for better night 
vision; they were black in the pupils, black in the lashes, black in 
the hollows of her cheeks.  Her long black hair gleamed like the 
sea-moon; those deep lips promised a fruitful birth.  The goddess had 
indeed returned.  People began to back away from her.  Several women 
curtsied, with a strange, awkward gesture.  Two uniformed guards came 
up, and with humility led her away from the crowd.  When it dawned on 
Desiree that she was really going to stay at the palace, her intestines 
revolved furiously. 

They came to the end of a street, one guard bearing her suitcase, the
other escorting her arm.  The old square lay before them, its 


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