Lucky Dog 1 translations 09 Ivan route 01
Part 3: Daivan
…Waking up was shit.
Last night, I’d tried to fall asleep…
…but it was a no go. My head was filled with information I hadn’t filed away right. It’s so stuffed up I feel like I’ve caught a cold… I’d tried to fall asleep on an empty stomach, but with the booze, my stomach feels like it’s eating me from the inside out.
When I finally check, it’s 10AM.
|Gian: …Did I lose my mind…?|
In the end, Ivan never came back. …If he’d found a girl and spent the night, then … that’d be fine, I guess. Better than the other stupid alternatives.
…Shit, my head’s still spinning.
I take a hot shower and, even though there’s not much to shave, I do so anyways. I try to snip off the hair floofing up. Then I brush my teeth … and go ‘blegh’.
…Since when did I care so much about hygiene?
…I guess everyone’s already left the hotel by now. I help myself to some mineral water before getting dressed and leaving the room.
I get into the elevator and ride down to the bottom floor… …Man, I’m starving… I’ll just grab something at the restaurant on the first floor, or maybe at the café…
The first floor of the lounge’s filled with guests and businessmen waiting around. I order a coffee and sandwich. …I sweat a bit when I realize I’d forgotten the coat with my wallet again.
But the waiter seemed to know who I was, so he doesn’t even ask for the payment or a tip. He just leaves the dish behind and disappears.
In the meantime, I read the paper left on the terrace. …There’s nothing especially new.
There’s not a word written about our breakout, and there’s no whiff of ‘Gang war starting in the city!’ not even in the funnies.
|Gian: …Aw shiit. There’s nothing to do…|
…Without Ivan here, it’s not like I can go work with him … and even if I do go out, he’d probably come back and we’d just miss each other…
Bernardo’s probably in his room, so I could go get some orders… I order another cup of coffee (no charge), and just as I’m about to bring it to my lips…
The enormous glass palace doors open. Something comes into the hotel, into the middle of the floor. …At first, I thought it was a fresh bouquet with legs.
|Rosalia: Thank you.|
A lively step, and a thank you to the bellboy. It – no, she – doesn’t give him her jacket or hat. …A kid? Her small frame hops forward energetically.
…She a student from somewhere…?
I can’t tell if it’s part of her uniform or just a jacket … but the tiny girl’s wearing a white sailor’s outfit plus a long skirt. Her black shoes and silver buckles shine and flash under the light.
She’s got slightly wavy blonde hair tied up in two little braids down her back. Her face, still freckled a bit, is filled with huge black eyes that twitch this way and that, like a squirrel’s.
The girl walks towards the elevator without stopping, but then…
Both her huge eyes look my way. …I don’t even have enough time to utter a ‘What?’ before the chipmunk comes bounds me with quick steps.
|Rosalia: Good morning!|
|Gian: B-Buongiorno. Sorry, I mean, hello.|
|Rosalia: Excuse me, may I sit here please?|
She’s got neat and pretty English.
The kid beams and looks towards the sofa across from me. I glance around me…
…and don’t find anyone looking this way.
|Gian: Feel free.|
|Rosalia: Thank you very much, signore.|
She smiles and sets her little butt down on the sofa. When she settles down into the fluff, her mouth curves down in a soft V. She rocks around a bit, enjoying the feeling.
|Rosalia: Would it be all right if I drink something as well?|
|Gian: Aah … sure.|
The words flow from the girl’s tiny lips, untainted by any hint of red. At some point in time, we’ve switched to Italian.
As we wait for the drinks to arrive, the girl has fun with the fluffy sofa and watches me, face filled with a full grin.
When the elegant glass filled with iced tea arrives…
|Rosalia: Would you happen to be … one of grandpa’s friends?|
|Gian: Excuse me?|
…Does she think I’m someone else? …No, wait. Italian → grandpa → friend. The train of thought sets off a chain reaction of explosions in my mind that bring up a possible name.
|Rosalia: You are one of the CR Cinque capos, correct?|
Pft, andI almost spew out my coffee. The words, which she’d said so matter-of-factly, was completely out of place coming from her mouth.
|Gian: Y-You wouldn’t happen to be…|
|Rosalia: Oh, pardon me. I’d forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Rosalia Cavalli.|
Wh-Whaaaaat?! This is the first time I’ve heard the old geezer having a family! Plus, this sweet little girl’s related to him?! They don’t look a thing alike!
…More importantly… …The old man’s family, here? Alone? Without even a single guard or anyone else?
|Rosalia: You would be signor Giancarlo, correct? Grandpa always talks about you.|
|Gian: …Yes, I’m Giancarlo … but, you’re Counselor Cavalli’s…?|
|Rosalia: Yes, Tonio Cavalli is my grandfather! I apologize for being so sudden today, um…|
|Rosalia: I’m sorry, signore. I only know you as Giancarlo.|
|Gian: Just ‘Gian’ is fine, signora.|
At those words, the smile on the kid’s lips spreads even larger, and then she goes on in English, pretty as before but less formally,
|Rosalia: You can call me Rosalia, too. Nice to meet you, Gian!|
The girl giggles to herself, like she’s found something funny.
|Gian: Same. But, why would a lovely girl like you grace our lowly grounds, and alone, too?|
|Rosalia: Today’s Friday, right? School finished early today, so I dropped by.|
|Rosalia: I’m in second grade at the St. Patricia Girl’s Academy Secondary School. I usually live at the dormitories at school, but I spend the weekends at my grandpa’s mansion with him.|
…Wow. She’s 100% a little princess. Second grade there makes her thirteen, maybe fourteen? No wonder she’s tiny.
|Gian: Th-Then … you’re here to pick Counselor Cavalli up?|
|Rosalia: No. I didn’t tell Grandpa about my being here today. I came here on my scooter. If I’d taken the car that came to pick me up, then I wouldn’t have been allowed to take any side roads, right?|
…Whoo. We’ve got a wild one here, a tomboy. Here she is, a little chipmunk at a proper princess school, where girls’re so fragile they’d probably crack if you so much as touch them, aaand she’s got a scooter.
|Rosalia: I came to see someone I know in the CR:5. I came to invite him for dinner at Grandpa’s because it’s the weekend!|
Since I’m not someone she’d known at the time, the invitation’s not for me. Which means it’s one of the other captains…
|Rosalia: Would you happen to know Ivan? Would he happen to be here at the moment…?|
…No ‘almost’s here, a jet of coffee positively spurts from my mouth. I have just barely enough time to turn to the side. Thanks to that, I strike a direct hit on a hapless waiter.
|Rosalia: Ivan! Ivan Fiore. You’re friends with Ivan, right?|
…Wh-Where’d that come from?
I open my mouth, but then close it. I turn the reason for Ivan’s absence into something more suitable for the kid’s ears before going on. …I can’t tell her the real reason, the idiot…
|Gian: Ivan’s … um … he’s been out on a job since last night, so he’s not here right now.|
At my words, the girl … droops and sinks into the sofa, looking like all the flowers and all the hope in the world’s withered and turned to ash.
|Rosalia: Is … that so… I’d wanted to surprise him and make him happy, so I’d kept my visit a secret, but I suppose it’s no surprise he’s not here, since I’d come so suddenly…|
…More importantly, what is she talking about?
|Gian: Um … pardon me, but … just what sort … of a relationship do you have with that idi – coughcoughahem! – with Ivan?|
As I drown my tongue in more coffee, trying incoherently to search for some words, she says…
|Rosalia: I’m Ivan’s fiancée!|
…And with another big Pfffft!! I do it again. This time in the other direction. Right at the waiter, who has a new change of clothes on. …Sorry. Seriously, I’m really sorry…
|Rosalia: We made a promise for the future! If he becomes my husband, then he will become a man of the Cavalli family! Oh, how wonderful that would be…!!|
…The chipmunk’s a gorgon. She’s Medusa in disguise. One thought flickers across my rock-hard petrified mind.
…Has old man Cavalli finally lost it?
|Rosalia: …However, Grandpa is still against it. No, he still won’t approve of it. But I’m sure he will come to understand soon…!|
|Rosalia: And then, I’m sure he will give us his blessings!|
…Sorry, gramps. I’m really sorry for accusing you of senility.
|Gian: Hahahaha… I’m sure he’s not … against it… He’s just … worried, you know?! I mean, Ivan. He’s…|
|Rosalia: I understand. I know there are many obstacles between us!|
|Gian: …Aah. Obstacles?|
|Rosalia: But there is no mountain too high to cross! God is testing us, and, if we are together, He will surely grant us the power to overcome them together!|
|Gian: By obstacles, you don’t mean…|
|Rosalia: Ivan’s … he’s not Italian, right? His mother is Irish, and his father is not from a powerful family. He doesn’t have the money either.|
|Rosalia: That’s why I’ve decided that I will be behind him and support him with everything I have. No, not just that…|
|Rosalia: If Ivan becomes a man of the Cavalli family, then no one will ever make a fool of him ever again! If that happens, then everything will be fine!|
…No, the reason everyone makes a fool of him is because he is a fool…
|Rosalia: This is His guidance. It is our destiny, granted to us by God! That’s what I believe. No, I’m sure of it! This obstacle is just a seed, waiting to bloom into an even larger blossom of love!|
…I’m sorry. How to put this… I don’t think it’s a good thing, shielding a child from all the horrors of the world and cultivating purity. Not like this.
As I’m thinking this, the girl sighs with a faraway look in her eyes as she sips her iced tea with her tiny lips…
|Rosalia: I see… So Ivan isn’t here today…|
…Why him of all people? How’d a fragile little miss like her come out of the blue and pick him…?
|Gian: Again, pardon me, but… Miss, how did you meet…?|
|Rosalia: Meet him? …Oh dear, how long has it been? My parents both died in a traffic accident. After that, I was moved to another school…|
|Gian: …! Your parents…|
I remember now. If I’m right, Counselor Cavalli’d lost his son and his daughter-in-law in the previous dispute … which makes this kid…
I get it now… So she’s the only thing he’s got left of his murdered son. No wonder why he treasures her…
|Rosalia: Ivan was the driver who picked me up and dropped me off when I was attending that school. That was where I’d met him.|
…So, that would be when Ivan was still only fifteen or sixteen? I wonder what he was like at fifteen…
|Gian: So … what has Ivan said about the … uhm, his en-… … …his engagement with you?|
The pipsqueak gives a long, forlorn sigh, like her very heart is in pain before looking off into the distance.
|Rosalia: He is such a shy man, so he won’t talk about it openly… But, I understand what he thinks.|
Ah, yes. I think I get it now. …I’m getting a feeling this is like a one-way five-lane highway.
|Rosalia: I’m sorry. I must hurry to grandpa’s mansion.|
|Gian: No, don’t apologize. Please wait a moment. I’ll contact the Consigliere and have him send someone.|
|Rosalia: No, that is all right. I can go alone.|
|Gian: But, your grandfather will be worried…|
|Rosalia: I’ll be fine. …Will you see me off, Giancarlo?|
…Wow. She may be a pipsqueak, but she’s still a woman of the upper class. I wonder if there’s a gene that takes care of using words like that?
…‘A girl from a prestigious family shall not grace her presence upon the common public alone!’ or something like that? She’s the one who strutted in here alone in the first place…
Feeling like I’ve lost on several levels, I get up and accompany her by her side.
|Rosalia: …Thank you.|
The rumble and whoosh of cars. The sound of people shuffling about over the sidewalks. The hustle-bustle. The world is still at peace … or at least, on the surface.
|Rosalia: Until next time, Giancarlo. It was fun talking to you.|
|Gian: It was my pleasure. …Is there something you would like me to pass on to Ivan?|
|Rosalia: No, that’s all right. I’ll talk with Grandpa and call him home for dinner. There are many things I wish to speak to him about, too.|
‘Shall that be all?’ As I give a dry chuckle, the kid fixes up the big hat covering her hair before…
…she picks up the toy-like scooter parked next to a bellboy she’d used in place of a telephone pole and straddles it… She settles herself in before stepping on the gas, starting up the engine with a kick.
…Wait, the princess seriously came here on a scooter? A bewildered expression’s still plastered on my face when she leaves me behind…
A blast of the engine, aaand she’s off.
…a dark, murky green, huge, beetle-like sedan – a sparklingly polished Bugatti – charges in.
The driver gets out. Before the bellboy can reach for the backseat door and open it, it flies open on its own and someone comes hurling out.
|Gian: Buongiorno, Counselor Cavalli.|
It’s not often I see the gramps so … flustered.
|Cavalli: D-Did … just now, was … did…?|
|Gian: Miss Rosalia, you mean?|
The Gramps’ eyes widen with ‘How’d you know?!’ written all over them.
|Gian: If you’re talking about the little Miss, she just took off for the mansion. On her scooter. Vroom!|
|Cavalli: Wha…?! …Ngh, must she be so…!|
…With a slump in Counselor Cavalli’s shoulders, it feels like I’ve just witnessed someone age more in one moment than I have all my life.
|Gian: …Gramps, I didn’t know you had a granddaughter like her.|
|Cavalli: Well, I’d been keeping her a secret from you all, so…|
|Gian: A wise decision. There’s the recent dispute, and there’s the GD, too… They might come straight for the family without a qualm.|
Counselor Cavalli looks irritably at me at my words … and then, with a tired expression, he nods.
|Cavalli: I know. That’s why I’ve always been strict with her on this.|
Oh my, there you go again. I’m sure the moment she shows up in front of you, you go bam! straight back into doting grandpa mode!
…Otherwise, there’s no way a kid like her could’ve gotten a scooter.
|Gian: Gramps, any word from Pops after that?|
|Cavalli: …No progress at all. We can’t grab a hold on his whereabouts at all. There have been no threats either, or even an ear…|
|Gian: …So no clues, huh…|
Then, a bellboy from the hotel comes jogging our way.
Bellboy: Excuse me. Signor Cavalli, you have an urgent call.
Counselor Cavalli and I both straighten up at the same time for probably the same reason and look at each other before, at the same time, hurrying to the lounge.
|Cavalli: …Ivan, is that you?|
The phone’s one that’s kept towards the inside of the lounge, in a special setup so the usual guests can’t see or hear us.
|Gian: Just where is he now…?|
The person calling Gramps on the phone is Ivan. …Gramps and I both breathe a small sigh of relief. The Gramps wipes his sweat off before facing the phone set.
…And then his expression pinches tight in a second.
|Cavalli: What did you say?! …Wait!! Don’t move on your own!!|
|Cavalli: It’s true that that area is my division, but it’s an old district, and very traditional! If you carelessly take action, then it will harm their trust towards us…!|
…Sounds like Ivan got himself into trouble in a troublesome place.
Ivan: …You’re telling me t’just leave ‘em, then?!
I hear Ivan’s voice from across the receiver. He sounds really edgy. I wonder what happened…?
|Cavalli: I’m telling you to calm down, you fool! …Yes, I know, I know! In that case…|
|Cavalli: Perfect. I will be sending Gian to meet you. Take Gian with you and follow his orders…|
|Gian: Huh? Me?|
|Cavalli: Silence. I won’t be accepting a ‘no.’ …Gian will be heading over immediately. Understood?|
And then he hangs up. The Consigliere heaves a deep sigh and doesn’t move for a while. Then…
|Cavalli: My apologies, Gian. This is sudden, but please head over to where Ivan is. The blood’s completely rushed to his head…|
|Gian: Well, that’s the usual. …What happened?|
|Cavalli: …Come. I’ll lend you my car.|
As we walk, Gramps searches through his words, like he’s about to say something really difficult, before talking.
After hearing his explanation, I … understand. I can see why the whole thing is a potload of trouble…
It’s really been a long time since I’ve last sat in Gramps’s Bugatti. …When was the last time?
I sink myself into the wonderful seat, so much better than any crap sofa’s, and breathe in the scent of high quality leather. …But, my head and gut prickle painfully.
Gramps’s entrusted me with … what was basically guarding Ivan … and monitoring him. The car heads towards the meeting place…
…towards the downtown corner, where Ivan’s waiting…