Grotto of Shadows

Sara glanced over to the pier. There were mostly men, all looking like they didn’t sleep last night. Dawn was breaking and the men's clothes were filthy with what Sara could only imagine to be fish guts. The red stains smeared across the boats were disconcerting to say the least. She may have felt a little more uneasy if it hadn't been for the buckets of fish being unloaded and brought to the plentiful osterias that lined the Sorrento shoreline.

Franco, however, was nowhere to be found. Sara didn't know what she was thinking, agreeing to go out on a boat with a stranger. In a foreign country, nonetheless. Her friends had been planning this trip for years. Jess and Alex were always the ones who believed the best in people. Sara should know, she saw them each fall in love with countless vapid jocks in college only to be heartbroken when they inevitably ran out of interest. When Sara was asked to go on a boat ride with a handsome Italian stranger at dinner the night before, her friends were relentless that she should say yes.

They hadn't planned for any male company, it was their first night in Italy after all. They had arrived in Sorrento at nearly eight last night. They were exhausted from their flight then hours-long train to the Amalfi Coast, but they couldn't resist the temptation of exploring their new surroundings. The girls had been giddy for their first taste of Italy. They practically ran down the stone steps from their villa until they ultimately stumbled upon a waterfront restaurant that looked like it belonged more on their Pinterest board than in real life.

Franco had walked up with the confidence of a Roman god just as they were finishing their first round of aperitivo. He introduced himself as Francesco, but quickly let them know they could call him Franco. It didn't matter, Jess and Alex were too distracted by his face and body to pay attention to anything actually coming out of his mouth. Franco's dark curly hair tumbled delicately to his shoulders but the same cannot be said for his tanned muscles that peeped not-so-delicately out of his white collared shirt. Franco did not seem to notice that Jess and Alex could not hear a word he was saying, his eyes were locked on Sara.

His directness had made Sara feel slightly uneasy, but she would be lying to herself if she said she was not flattered. When Franco asked her to go out on the boat with him the next morning, Jess and Alex had practically jumped out of their seats and answered for her. The early morning wake-up call was almost enough to dissuade her though. Sara crawled out of bed right as the first signs of sunrise came through her window. Seeing her friends sleeping soundly as she slid herself into a bathing suit that seemed to squeeze her in all the wrong places was almost reason enough to forget her romantic adventure, snag a few bites of leftover tiramisu, and slide right back into bed. She resisted the urge.

She was not feeling quite as bold while waiting on the pier. Sara felt the eyes of each of the fishermen as they unloaded their boats on the shore. No doubt they were wondering what a young woman like herself was doing out at a time they usually only see pezzogne. She started wondering the same herself. Sara had only stood on the pier for about five minutes and had already convinced herself there was no way Franco was coming. It was all just a complicated dream, induced by jet lag and carafes of wine. Suddenly, Sara noticed a man on a boat off in the distance vigorously waving toward her. It was Franco.

He smiled when he saw Sara see him. Franco's arrival seemed surreal. It was hard for Sara not to notice his muscles coming into view with every second the boat approached the shore. The early morning sun was shining perfectly behind him, silhouetting his toned body against the clear blue water. Sara never knew a whole lot about boats, but his small white vessel looked like everything she imagined when dreaming of the Italian coast. Her stomach suddenly started to feel all of the limoncello she drank the night before, but that was probably just nerves.

Franco grabbed Sara's hand as she stepped into the boat.

"Buongiorno Signorina."

The slyest smile creeped across Franco's face and Sara was suddenly unsure if this was the best or worst idea of her life.

"So where are you taking me anyway?" Sara attempted to disguise her discomfort by making conversation.

"This is your first time to Amalfi Coast, no? I could take you to the islands around Capri, or down the coast to Positano."

"What about the Blue Grotto?"

Franco scoffed. Then replied with a playful smirk and set his sights back on the water, pulling them away from shore.

Sara gave a nervous laugh, "What's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing at all, it's just..." Franco considered his words. Sara couldn't help but appreciate the shadow of his jawline while he thought about what he was going to say next. Finally, he said, "Every American who comes to Sorrento wants to go to the Blue Grotto, or how we call it, Grottta Azzurra. The line of boats is always long, why do that when there are so many others for free?"

"Do the others look like the Blue Grotto?" Sara asked.

She had done a lot of research in preparation for her first time to Italy. Images of the Blue Grotto had scattered across every webpage she found looking into local destinations off the Amalfi Coast. The waters in the Blue Grotto shone like the brightest, icy blue eyes she could imagine. The dark walls that lined the sea cave only illuminated the water further, in an almost supernatural shimmer of bright blue water.

"If you mean the water, yes of course."

"Why does everyone only talk about Grotta Azzurra then?"

Sara was proud of her use of Italian then immediately felt abashed when he flashed a dimply smile, most likely amused by her pronunciation.

"It's because not everyone has a local tour guide, Signorina."

Franco's smirks with every sentence were intoxicating, his accent seemed to flow directly through her chest and into her bloodstream.

"I'll take you to Grotta Dell'Ombra," he said.

The trip to Grotta Dell'Ombra, or rather Grotto of Shadows, was something that felt like a distant dream. The gray cliffs of the Italian coast looked nothing like the Northeastern shores Sara was used to. The stony cliffs loomed over the Tyrrhenian Sea like a great barrier protecting the treasures of Italy from the rest of the world. Sara couldn't help but think it looked like something out of a movie about some distant kingdom, a kingdom that definitely was not hers.

The seawater was mysteriously calm and clear, the only thing that prevented Sara from seeing the bottom was the depth. Everything about the experience felt utterly beautiful. For the first time since setting foot in Italy, Sara felt she could finally breath. She let her fingers casually slide across the top of the crystalline water as Franco steered the small white boat toward their destination.

"Signorina, we are here."

Sara shook out of sleep. What in the world? Sara thought to herself. Who falls asleep on a boat in a foreign country with a stranger? Franco looked at her with the same intoxicating smile and she instantly forgave herself. He has been nothing but kind.

"I guess the jet lag is no joke after all," Sara smiled, "Why did you get us out here so early anyway?"

"It's my favorite time of day. Before everyone else is out and about," Franco said, "It's when you can really appreciate Italy for all of its beauty and mystery." He smirked again, "And I want to have you all to myself."

Sara's body felt like it was about to implode with butterflies when Franco extended his hand and lifted her from where she had been napping in the sun.

"Shall we?" Franco smirked again.

Sara felt Franco's eyes on her with every movement she made undressing herself out of the blousy blue cover-up she had been wearing. She stood nearly nude in front of him in the black string bikini that she had hidden underneath. For once, she didn't mind a stranger's eyes. She tried not to stare too obviously as he rose his arms to take off his shirt. But if this was Sara's one day to experience a spontaneous romance abroad, she was going to gulp in every single sip of it.

The entrance to the cove was about fifteen feet tall and twenty feet wide. From a distance, Sara couldn't see the luminescent blue water that she had been promised. Franco jumped into the water and started swimming toward the small grotto. Sara second guessed herself.

"Franco, are there sharks in these waters?"

He gave her that same charming look that made her feel like a little girl, then replied, "There are no sharks in these waters."

Sara plugged her nose and jumped into the sea. The water appeared even clearer from a close-up view. It had become a good bit wavier over the course of their journey to Grotta Dell'Ombra, but Sara didn't mind. She was literally and mentally floating. So this is why people love Italy, she thought to herself. She had never experienced anything like this before.

Franco was waiting for her by the entrance to the grotto, casually holding onto the rocks on the side of the cliff. Suddenly, a mischievous look returned to his face.

"Have you ever cliff jumped?"

Sara's heart sank, she replied, "No, never."

"Do you want to try?"

Sara definitely did not want to try. But she also did not want to seem like a coward on what was most definitely going to turn out to be the most adventurous day of her life. Together, Franco and Sara climbed the side of the cliff. The rocks were sharp against her bare feet, but the entire experience felt exhilarating. When they reached the top, Sara soaked in the view. She could see their boat anchored offshore, as well as more boats just like it from a distance.

"Hurry, let's have our fun before everyone else gets here, shall we?" Franco suggested.

To Sara's surprise, he did not lead her to the edge of the cliff as expected. Instead, he led her to a small hole just large enough for a body to slip through. Sara peered through it. Below she could see the bright blue water she had requested.

"That is the most beautiful water I have ever seen in my life," Sara told Franco.

"Well then let's get a closer look."

Before Sara could realize what happened, Franco jumped through the hole, splashing into the glimmering water below. No way in hell, was the first thought that crossed her mind. But she hadn't gotten this far to give up on her big adventure now, and she was not going to embarrassingly trek down the rocks they had just scaled to get here. Without another thought, Sara plunged through the hole to the water below. Franco was waiting for her.

The morning turned into afternoon before the thought of her friends ever crossed Sara's mind. Sara could not get enough of the mesmerizing water, the blue looked like ancient ice that hadn't been touched for thousands of years. She couldn't help but think about the centuries of people who must've visited this same grotto to submerge themselves in what felt like could only be magic.

Once they got tired of swimming, Franco led Sara to a nearby rock at the back of the cave and kissed her. Usually, Sara would be a lot more timid with someone she had just met, but this day felt nothing like the usual. Hours passed and Sara felt drunken with spontaneity. Franco and Sara laid on the rock in each other's arms, soaking in the private scenery. Over the course of what must have been hours, the water began to rise. At first, it seemed to be nothing but a few extra waves crashing against their rock. But after some time, Sara began to notice that the grotto's entrance appeared to be shrinking.

At first, Franco didn't mind. He said it was usual for the grotto's waters to rise and fall. But, once what used to be a fifteen foot entrance began to look more like a ten foot entrance, and then a seven foot entrance, Sara convinced Franco that it was time to go.

"The water is too rough," Franco protested, "I will go bring the boat closer and then you can swim along the edges holding on to the rocks."

As Franco began his swim outward, he was knocked sharply into the rock that they had been tangled upon for hours.

"Are you okay?" Sara clambered to the side of the rock to try and reach him.

"Yes, yes I am fine," Franco responded, but Sara could see a large gash on his left shoulder blade. He started swimming toward the grotto's opening again, this time pushing strongly off the rock to give him a head start.

Sara sat and watched as Franco made his exit from the grotto. The cave entrance was even smaller now, maybe six feet of air remained between the water and the top of the grotto's stony entrance. Sara sat and waited for Franco to give her the signal that he had brought the boat close enough for her to attempt to swim over. At this point, there was no way that the boat would be able to squeeze through the entrance to the grotto that had been so much larger just hours before.

Minutes passed, then those minutes turned into what felt like hours with still no sign of Franco. Sara began to panic, screaming his name only to hear her own cries echoed back to her from the cave walls. It felt as though the grotto began to mock her. After an hour of yelling for Franco to no avail, Sara childishly began yelling out for Jess and Alex. Surely they would be looking for her by now? It had been almost a full day since she had left this morning, and they would be expecting her to return. With a crashing sense of realization, Sara remembered she had not even left them a note to tell them when she would return. Likely, they must be thinking she got swept away with the hot Italian stranger they had all met the night before.

Where is he? Sara began to feel panic consume her whole body. She cried out again, "HELP! Help! Franco, are you out there?" Actual tears started rolling down Sara's face, she saw the cave entrance creeping even smaller than before, "Franco, I'm getting really scared."

"Signorina, what is wrong?"

The voice had come from above her. Startled, Sara's eyes raced across the grotto, up the cave walls, to the same small hole they had jumped through to get to this hell hole. When Franco saw Sara see him, the same unabashed smile creeped across his face.

"Franco, what the hell are you doing up there?" Sara was not amused, she cut her feet as she started racing across the rock to see if there was any possible way to climb up the cave wall. It was impossible. The walls were too high and the hole was too far to reach. Sara would have to hang from the ceiling of the cave to reach it.

"Franco, this isn't funny, is the boat outside? Should I swim outside now? The waves are getting really strong. Franco, I'm scared..."

Franco's smile turned into a grimace, "I wouldn't try that if I were you."

"What? Franco! Why not?" Sara's body was shaking with impatience. Claustrophobia started to consume every part of her.

"Ask him," then without a warning, Franco disappeared from the hole above her.

Sara peered over to the cave entrance, now nearly a three foot opening. Daylight was dwindling from sight, but with the bright luminescence of the blue grotto water Sara was able to see a human body slowly approach her. She swam frantically, the waves pushed her against the rocks, cutting her more than once, but she did not care. She swam to the body floating face down in the water. When she reached it, she struggled to pull the face out of the water only to see the face of Franco, her handsome stranger. His face was blue and lifeless. Appearing almost ghost-like with the bright blue light of the grotto's waters shining against it.

Sara screamed again. This time, another voice appeared. She heard her own cries echoed back to her once again. But somehow, they sounded different. Almost more...human. Her eyes raced along the edges of the cave, searching desperately for what should only be an echo.

Then, on the rocks, Sara saw a figure. Then two. A young woman, in a black string bikini. She was tangled up with a handsome man, with his tanned muscles around her. Together they were kissing on the rocks of Grotta Dell'Ombra.