by Gabe Sluis
The view from train ride out of Milan was not what Anthony Berio expected it to be. The ground was much more dry and dusty compared to the image of northern Italy he had in his mind. In fact, the way he imagined the place his family had come from was no longer there. Ever since arriving, he could not call to mind what he had expected the place to look like. Even the pictures from when his parents had brought him as a toddler were lacking all detail in his mind.
"It's beautiful countryside," Beth commented, as if reading Anthony's thoughts. "Do you know where the orchard is once we get to Asti?"
"Really, no," he answered. "Last time I was here, I could barely walk. I looked it up back in the hotel though. We have to take a short bus ride north to Meridiana and then walk west to Settime."
"Well, it's a good thing you know Italian, because I would be totally lost."
"Not well enough, but I'll get us there," Anthony said. "I talked with my cousins last Christmas and told them I would try to come out here after graduation. They came a couple years ago and got the whole tour. They told me how they got here, I think they rented a car, but I have totally forgotten. I should have written it down..."
The American couple sat alone in the wide berth, leaning against the outside wall of the train, taking in the warm sun. Buildings and towns rolled past, betraying the thought that this land was any different from anywhere else. Beth opened the top flap of her day pack and pulled out a box of cigarettes.
"Is there a smoking car, or something?" she asked Anthony.
"I saw another guy smoking in his seat as we got on," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "And I haven't seen any signs either way."
"Here," Anthony said, yanking on the jam of the window next to Beth. The section of glass slid back six inches, gently sucking wind from the cabin.
"Are you sure," she asked, drawing a short cigarette and a lighter.
"Ehh! What's the worst that could happen? Someone comes by and yells at us. No big deal!"
"Alright," she said, lighting the end and blowing the first drag through the window. "I'll just blame you, anyway. Plus, I have no idea what they would even be saying!"
Twenty minutes later, without incident or sight of an official, the train arrived at Asti. The station was on the outskirts of town and the couple walked down the raised platform to the arrival building next to the street. Anthony scanned the signs as Beth looked around with curiosity.
"Here we go," he said, touching Beth's arm lightly. "The bus stop is right there."
Alone, the pair stood at the stop, Anthony deciphering the schedule.
"So we need to get on the one to Chivasso. Meridiana is the second stop. And we are in luck, the next one should arrive at ten after the hour!"
The bus turned out to be just what Anthony expected it to be. It was old, rounded edges, dark blue with a hand painted sign that read Asti-Chivasso above the front windshield. The pair climbed on.
"Quanto?" Anthony asked the driver as they stepped aboard.
"Ogni due Euro," the driver replied.
Anthony handed over the four Euros and the pair took a seat in the front of the mostly empty bus.
"Dove stai andando?" the bus driver asked from behind the wheel.
Anthony leaned forward and formulated an answer, "Ehh, a Settime. La Mia Famiglia ha un frutteto li. Due Conigli compagnia olio d'oliva?"
"In Settime? Voui dire Olio Puro."
"Certo, Certo."
"Anthony, what is he saying?" Beth whispered to her partner.
"He was asking where we were going, that's all. But I don't think he has heard of my family's olive oil company. Strange."
The bus cruised along the well maintained two-lane road out of the big town of Asti. The pair sat entranced by the hills on either side of the road, stopping first in a small village and finally in Meridiana. They dismounted the bus and the driver handed Anthony a piece of paper.
"Programma per il ritorno," he said and closed the squeaky bus doors.
"Ooh, I got that one," Beth said triumphantly. "So how far now?"
"I'm guessing about a kilometer down this road. We should run right into it. From the pictures I've seen, the orchard and wear houses are off to the left. The main administration offices should be on the right side of the main road. I guess most of Settime was built around Due Conigli olive oil."
"It's pretty cool you know where your family came from," Beth commented as she walked. "My whole family is just a mish-mash. I have no clue where I came from."
"Yeah, apparently my great-grandfather escaped right before the rise of the Faciests and the start of World War Two. My great-grand uncle kept the place going while he was gone. I guess he returned after the war but Grandpa Berio stayed. So it's kinda a cool pilgrimage thing most us Berio's do every once in a while. I really just want to get some stickers or key chains or something with the two rabbits logo on it. Also, though, it's prolly good we show up every few years so that our Italian cousins know we still exist!"
The walk was short and Anthony realized he had reached his destination as soon as he started seeing the olive trees; their neat rows butting up to the left side of the road. He wanted to pick one and pop it into his mouth, but knew that untreated olive were not going to taste very good. Still, he thought about it.
"There is the main wear house on the left. Let's cross the street and say hello to whoever is in the administration building."
"Ohh, I bet they will give us a tour, too," Beth said. "You will have to translate as much as you can for me."
But as the couple approached the corrugated sheet metal building, they could see into the picture glass lobby that no one was inside. Anthony noticed that no one was parked outside the building either as they crossed the small worn parking lot.
"Are they closed today?" Beth asked as the walked up to the front doors.
Anthony cupped his hands to the dirty glass and peered inside. The place was empty; not a sign of anyone inside or recent use. Most of the furniture was gone and computer cables ran to nothing in particular. Anthony frowned.
"That's strange..."
"Maybe they just moved offices," Beth said.
"Let's try across the street," Anthony suggested.
The couple crossed the deserted street and made their way to a small portable trailer with the word office written on the outside. Anthony paused and scratched his forehead.
"What is is?" Beth asked.
"It doesn't say Due Conigli on the outside or have the crest anywhere on the sign. The bus driver said something about Olio Puro and I thought it was just slang or something. But it says it right there too... Let me go in and ask," Anthony said to Beth.
"Okay... I'll have a smoke and wait."
He went up the stairs and inside while Beth fished out another of her cigarettes. She was half-way done when Anthony came back out.
"Uh-oh, that's not a good look on your face," she said as he joined her. "What happened?"
"So, I go in and tell the lady who I am and she has no idea. I said I was family of the owners of Due Conigli, from America, and she told me that this place is owned by Olio Puro now. I can't believe it! They sold the family company!"
"Sold? Oh, no!" Beth said. "When did this happen?"
"I didn't ask, but I doubt the lady knew. It seemed like she had never even heard of Due Conigli," Anthony said, frustrated. "It couldn't have been more than a couple years ago, since my cousins came.
"Wow," Anthony said in defeat. " I can't believe we came all the way out here, and it's gone."
"What do we do now?" Beth asked.
"I guess we head back to the bus. It comes through in a half-hour..." Anthony said. "Dang! I really wanted to come back with some swag! Now there is nothing. I can believe they sold the whole operation to a big corporate oil company!"
Anthony and Beth walked back across the road, past the former buildings of the Due Conigli Olive Oil Company. Anthony scuffed his feet and spun around as he walked, trying to take in the hundreds of years of history this
bit of land had seen of his family. After the hard work of starting the business, to keeping it open in war times, and making it through all other hardships it had no doubt endured, Berio's would no longer walk this ground. This fact saddened Anthony more than anything. Passing the edge of the building, Beth broke his trance.
"Is that the Two Rabbits crest right there?" Beth said, trying to cheer up her disappointed companion.
"Ha! Yeah, that's it!" Anthony replied, walking over to the sign she was pointing out. "See, two rabbits, back to back with an olive tree between. Due Conigli and 1819. That is the company logo that is on every bottle."
Beth fingered the white plywood sign screwed to the outside metal of the building. "What does it say? 'No' something?"
"'No parking.' I guess they didn't want anyone parking on this side of the building," Anthony said. "I bet that is the last thing around here with the logo on it. They must have not bothered to take it down since they don't use this building."
"Hey!" Beth suddenly said. "You wanted something to show for your trip out here, right? Why not take the sign! It's got your family crest, or whatever, on it. We should take it!"
Anthony looked up at the sign. It was only half a foot tall by a foot wide... He smiled at the thought.
"Yeah, but it's screwed on. I don't have a..."
Beth pulled a pocket knife from her pocket. She presented it with one hand and pulled out the screw driver tool with her other hand.
"Where did you get a Swiss Army knife?" Anthony said, taking it from her.
"I bought it as soon as we got here. I wanted something to protect myself with if I needed it. Figured one with tools would be better than just a blade if a cop hassled me for it," Beth said with a grin.
"I'm going to do it!" Anthony exclaimed under his breath after a beat. "No one will miss it and it will look great in my room. Watch my back while I get this thing off the wall."
"Alright, but hurry," Beth said, pulling out another cigarette and leaning against the corner of the building.
Anthony worked fast, pushing with all his might as he unscrewed the sign. The screws screeched, having probably been in place for years in the weather, and never removed. His shoulder muscles began to ache as he twisted the hand tool above his head. Three rusty screws down and Beth spoke, making him jump.
"Somebody just got in a golf cart across the street! It looks like security!"
"Almost done..."Anthony strained.
"They are coming this way!"
"It's off!" Anthony breathed, shoving the knife in his pocket and kicking the screws away.
"Quick!" Beth said, sliding her bag backwards with her foot. "Stick it in here!"
Anthony lifted the flap and hurriedly pulled the drawstring open. He jammed the sign in to the bag and swung it on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here!"
The security guard in the golf cart zipped up on the pair leaving the sight of the theft and tried to stop them.
"Sorry, I don't speak Italian!" Beth said loudly and continued to walk away holding Anthony's hand.
The guard did not follow, but rather looked confused at the escaping pair and around at the area they had taken the sign from.
Once they were down the road and almost to the bus stop, Anthony spoke.
"I don't think he knew what we took. I bet they just saw us on camera being suspicious so they sent him out there. I think we are cool, but I'm not sure."
Beth laughed. "Good! And we got you your sign! The trip wasn't a total bust after all. We should get a drink in Asti to celebrate!"
"I don't know. Let's not do that till we get back to Milan. I'll feel better once we get off that train and back into the big city."
