There is no travel guide in existence that can do justice to the city of Florence, Italy. The Arno River calmly flows past the incredible old buildings and homes, allowing magnificent structures like the Ponte Vecchio bridge to sprout up. Narrow streets are bustling with residents, tourists, and incessant traffic.
But it's the history of Florence that grabs you soon after arriving. Where else on Earth can you walk into a single basilica, like Santa Croce, and find the tombs of Michelangelo, Galileo, Machiavelli and Marconi? Where else can you walk into a museum and find the original David...ALL of him?
My family was on a vacation in Italy--the home of our ancestors--and the couple of days we spent in Sorrento before coming to Florence had allowed my twenty four year old brother and me to become, well, 'very close'. I was two years older than Matt and was just a little jealous of his new girlfriend back home. So I gave him reason to forget her.
The sex we had in Sorrento was good, but not great, because I sensed a little uncertainty on Matt's part regarding the whole brother/sister thing. Oh, sure. He came quickly and intensely. But I was anxious to have him fully accept our relationship and give in to his true early-twenties male desires.
There was another factor, though, that I might have been suppressing in my own mind. My wanting to have sex with Matt was only partly due to my jealousy of his girlfriend. For almost a year I had actually questioned my own sexual preferences.
Women were becoming more and more attractive to me. I found myself wanting to be around them and, on occasion, have a relationship with them. So far, all my experiences with women had been as a result of my friendship with a girl my own age who was bisexual. She took me to some parties where sex was encouraged and accepted. I ended up with both men and women.
I liked them both. So I was confused. I wanted answers.
What better place to start than Florence? I mean, if you couldn't get horny in Florence you should check your pulse. The fashion; the sculptures; the artwork--all around you were beautiful things depicting people either half naked or all the way there. And the restaurants or sidewalk cafes were especially good for watching real, live people in their summer outfits.
It was going to take all of my energy to keep Matt to myself and away from the many Italian babes floating around the hotel lobby or in the tour groups we sometimes encountered. Although my family was seeing the country without the help of a tour, it was impossible to visit anything without running into at least one group.
Such was the case when Matt and I were roaming the streets one afternoon on our own. I drug him into a spectacular stone church that was typical of most that we had seen: huge, dark, old, and oozing tradition. Thick pillars rose among the pews to a ceiling that seemed to be in the heavens. Glorious stain glass windows shined in a multitude of colors. And this wasn't even a cathedral...just a neighborhood church tucked among the high-rises.
The quietness inside these churches always struck me. No matter how many people may have been crammed inside, they respected the holiness of the place and acted accordingly. Most of the time, anyway.
We were joined on this occasion by a group of perhaps twenty or twenty five people. As we all mingled about the sprawling interior, I soon realized that Matt wasn't with me. A quick search led me to him--standing in a corner with a gorgeous, dark haired woman in her late twenties, or early thirties. The closer I got, the prettier she looked. I could feel my defenses kicking in.
But when I was finally next to them, my jealousy gave way to total appreciation of her beauty. Her hair was short, but stylish. Her mouth was enticing, with a gentle curve to the lips that begged you to kiss them. Her flimsy shirt highlighted the full, firm breasts underneath. Her short skirt showed off perfectly shaped legs.
"I think you speak perfect English," Matt said to her when I got within earshot.
"Thanks. I spent four years at an American college."
After she spoke, both Matt and the woman looked over at me. She was maybe an inch or so taller than me, only adding to my insecurity.
"Hi," I said.
"This is Jennifer, my sister," Matt said.
"Hi. I'm Tessa."
I smiled. "I love that name."
I thought she may have blushed, but her terrific tan and the darkness of the corner made it hard to tell. I could only imagine how badly Matt probably wanted me to leave them alone.
"I was just telling your brother how bored I'm getting walking in and out of old churches," she said. "I mean, I can do this back in Venice. Besides, you could put fifty copies of this church inside St. Mark's."
Matt and I laughed.
"So, why are you doing it?" I had to ask.
Tessa sighed and frowned. She nodded towards a group in the opposite corner. "My aunt and grandma brought me. I guess I'm kind of babysitting them. Once they get inside these churches..."
She stopped to roll her eyes. "They spend an hour praying, lighting candles, and talking to the priest. E 'terribile."
I had a pretty good idea what she meant, even without knowing the language.
"You know what I think they should do more often on tours?" I asked them.
They said 'What?' in unison.
"They should show you the parts of the church nobody ever sees. Like where the priests hang out. And the basements. Don't you ever wonder what's in the basement of these places?" I said.
Tessa's eyes lit up. "That is SO strange. I saw a door right before Matt came over and I was sure it led downstairs. I was debating whether or not to try it."
"Show me. I'll do it," Matt said confidently.
I think all three of us were thrilled at the opportunity to break the boring routine, and I knew anything that kept Tessa in our midst satisfied Matt. A few steps away, around a corner, Tessa pointed to the door in question.
Matt turned the knob slowly. When the door pulled open and we saw the steps leading down, you could have heard a pin drop.
"Let's go," Matt said. There was light shining up from around the bend in the steps halfway down. Still, Matt stepped carefully, followed by Tessa and me. I pulled the door shut behind me, mostly out of habit. Immediately, I thought it might not have been the smartest move I ever made, but it was too late.
Matt turned the corner first, and I heard him say 'Cool' before I made the turn.
Before us was a large room with tables along two walls. They were stacked with boxes and candles and Christmas decorations...and who knows what else in the dim light. The third wall, to our left, was bare except for a single painting of a biblical scene.
Ahead was a hallway. Naturally, Matt took off in that direction. We had no choice but to follow him. The sounds of our shoes echoed in the large space.
We could see a stairway leading up at the end of the hallway. That eased my mind a little bit, in case the door I closed wouldn't re-open. But several closed doors lined the hallway we were in and I felt somewhat like a character in a horror film. The audience was saying, 'No. Don't open it!'
"This is awesome," Tessa said quietly.
She looked back at me, which forced me to take my eyes off the incredible ass swaying back and forth under her short, tight skirt.
"Yea. This is what I was talking about," I told her.
Matt reached for the handle on the first door we came to. My heart pounded as he pushed it open. Total darkness, thank God.
He hunted for a light switch and eventually found it about the time I was going to suggest they only used candles. The room was surprisingly large, but instantly made me think we had stepped into a time warp.
There were relics of some type and furniture that appeared to be straight from the eighteenth century. A more modern table held dusty books...maybe bibles...and white robes neatly folded in a row. It wouldn't have surprised me in the least to be told we were the first humans in there in a hundred years...except for the electrician.
"Wow. This is neat," Matt said. "Wonder where they keep the wine."
"Stop it, Matt. That's sacrilegious...or something," I said.
I could see Tessa smiling at us. She was moving over to the robes. I watched her run her fingers over the material of the robe that appeared to be the least dusty. Then she lifted it from the table, and to my surprise, began to unfold it.
Matt and I looked on in silence as Tessa allowed the robe to open. She had to hold it up slightly to keep the bottom off the floor. It was at least at tall as she was, with a hood in the back. From what I could tell, there was a button near the top and another about half way down. A cloth belt was attached around the waist. The collar was square and stiff, a little like the old Nehru jackets I remembered seeing pictures of from the sixties or seventies.
"Neat," Tessa said. "Wonder when it was worn last?"
"I'm thinking not recently," Matt answered. "Are you going to try it on?"
Tessa look at him. "You read my mind."
"Nobody will know but us," he said.
