“Impossible,” was what she said out loud.
When he turned around to see what had caused the girl to react with so much fear, he saw a black object hanging in the sky behind them.
It was round, with a ribbon of black smoke trailing out of the back of it. “La mongolfiera!” he said loudly, pointing it out for his sister to see, although it was unusual enough that it seemed almost impossible that anyone would miss it.
It was moving rapidly, heading directly toward them, and after a few seconds Emilio could make out two large propellers sticking out from either side, pushing it in their direction at rapid speed.
The blonde girl seemed frozen in place, unable to decide what she should do. She had already pushed herself back to the railing, and there was nowhere else for her to go. She looked down at the case and clutched it even more tightly to her chest.
She stood up and bolted toward them, clearly intent on heading down the stairs. Emilio and Viola were standing directly in her way.
He looked into the girl's eyes, hoping to catch her attention. The girl was clearly terrified, but there was also a determination in her gaze that he couldn't help but admire. His heart skipped a beat, and Emilio knew it wasn't just admiration that her beauty had triggered inside of him. If she was in trouble, surely they could help.
“Excuse me,” she said, her tone clearly hovering between desperation and frustration. “I need to go downstairs.”
“You need help, pretty lady?” Like almost every time that he tried speak to someone in English, Emilio found himself regretting the attempt an instant after the words came out of his mouth. He may not have ever been a poet or an orator, but at least when he spoke to someone in Italian they didn't give him a look as if they had just met the world's first talking horse.
But the blonde woman didn't seem to notice his terrible grammar, or anything about him except that he was in her way. “No, no thank you,” she replied, shifting to one side and then the other, clearly trying to find a path between the siblings that would let her escape down the stairs. But Emilio and Viola had created an impenetrable wall.
“Are you afraid of the baloney?”
This time his words did get the look he had expected. “What are you talking about?”
“Baloney!” Emilio replied, pointing up at the sky for emphasis. They had almost completed their journey past the Brooklyn Bridge now, and even though the black ship was going above the cables, it had also moved appreciably closer to them.
Viola shook her head. “It's called a balloon , you idiot!” Maybe it had been because she was younger than he was, or because she'd spent more time actually talking to people and not working on machines, but since their arrival, Viola's English had quickly become much better than his. “Now, lady,” his sister said to the girl in a tone shockingly reminiscent of their sainted mother, “maybe me and my horse's ass of a brother can help you with whatever is bothering you.”
“You can get out of my way!” the girl yelled, and then dove toward them with an outstretched hand. The startled siblings parted, and she stumbled down the stairs.
“We sorry, miss! Please let's help you!” Emilio shouted after her, but if she understood his words, they didn't slow her down.
From somewhere in the sky above them there came a chuffing sound, as if a gigantic locomotive had started to move. A second later, the ship rocked as a large metal harpoon sank through the surface of the top deck with a screech of tearing metal. Screams rose up from the people on the deck around them, and after another moment passed, Emilio could hear muffled shouts of terror coming from the passenger compartment below.
Looking at the lance that had penetrated the ship, Emilio could see a thick cable that ran out from the back of it. It trailed away in an arc that led all the way up to the balloon in the sky above them. The wire lay slack for a
When he turned around to see what had caused the girl to react with so much fear, he saw a black object hanging in the sky behind them.
It was round, with a ribbon of black smoke trailing out of the back of it. “La mongolfiera!” he said loudly, pointing it out for his sister to see, although it was unusual enough that it seemed almost impossible that anyone would miss it.
It was moving rapidly, heading directly toward them, and after a few seconds Emilio could make out two large propellers sticking out from either side, pushing it in their direction at rapid speed.
The blonde girl seemed frozen in place, unable to decide what she should do. She had already pushed herself back to the railing, and there was nowhere else for her to go. She looked down at the case and clutched it even more tightly to her chest.
She stood up and bolted toward them, clearly intent on heading down the stairs. Emilio and Viola were standing directly in her way.
He looked into the girl's eyes, hoping to catch her attention. The girl was clearly terrified, but there was also a determination in her gaze that he couldn't help but admire. His heart skipped a beat, and Emilio knew it wasn't just admiration that her beauty had triggered inside of him. If she was in trouble, surely they could help.
“Excuse me,” she said, her tone clearly hovering between desperation and frustration. “I need to go downstairs.”
“You need help, pretty lady?” Like almost every time that he tried speak to someone in English, Emilio found himself regretting the attempt an instant after the words came out of his mouth. He may not have ever been a poet or an orator, but at least when he spoke to someone in Italian they didn't give him a look as if they had just met the world's first talking horse.
But the blonde woman didn't seem to notice his terrible grammar, or anything about him except that he was in her way. “No, no thank you,” she replied, shifting to one side and then the other, clearly trying to find a path between the siblings that would let her escape down the stairs. But Emilio and Viola had created an impenetrable wall.
“Are you afraid of the baloney?”
This time his words did get the look he had expected. “What are you talking about?”
“Baloney!” Emilio replied, pointing up at the sky for emphasis. They had almost completed their journey past the Brooklyn Bridge now, and even though the black ship was going above the cables, it had also moved appreciably closer to them.
Viola shook her head. “It's called a balloon , you idiot!” Maybe it had been because she was younger than he was, or because she'd spent more time actually talking to people and not working on machines, but since their arrival, Viola's English had quickly become much better than his. “Now, lady,” his sister said to the girl in a tone shockingly reminiscent of their sainted mother, “maybe me and my horse's ass of a brother can help you with whatever is bothering you.”
“You can get out of my way!” the girl yelled, and then dove toward them with an outstretched hand. The startled siblings parted, and she stumbled down the stairs.
“We sorry, miss! Please let's help you!” Emilio shouted after her, but if she understood his words, they didn't slow her down.
From somewhere in the sky above them there came a chuffing sound, as if a gigantic locomotive had started to move. A second later, the ship rocked as a large metal harpoon sank through the surface of the top deck with a screech of tearing metal. Screams rose up from the people on the deck around them, and after another moment passed, Emilio could hear muffled shouts of terror coming from the passenger compartment below.
Looking at the lance that had penetrated the ship, Emilio could see a thick cable that ran out from the back of it. It trailed away in an arc that led all the way up to the balloon in the sky above them. The wire lay slack for a
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