Back Portofino
Chapters (42)
  1. Cover Page
  2. PRAISE FOR FRANK SCHAEFFER’S PORTOFINO
  3. PRAISE FOR FRANK SCHAEFFER’S SAVING GRANDMA
  4. Portofino
  5. Copyright Page
  6. Author’s Note:
  7. Portofino
  8. 1962
  9. Chapter 1
  10. Chapter 2
  11. Chapter 3
  12. Chapter 4
  13. Chapter 5
  14. Chapter 6
  15. Chapter 7
  16. Chapter 8
  17. Chapter 9
  18. Chapter 10
  19. Chapter 11
  20. Chapter 12
  21. Chapter 13
  22. Chapter 14
  23. Chapter 15
  24. Chapter 16
  25. 1965
  26. Chapter 17
  27. Chapter 18
  28. Chapter 19
  29. Chapter 20
  30. Chapter 21
  31. Chapter 22
  32. Chapter 23
  33. Chapter 24
  34. Chapter 25
  35. Chapter 26
  36. Chapter 27
  37. Chapter 28
  38. Chapter 29
  39. Chapter 30
  40. Chapter 31
  41. Chapter 32
  42. Chapter 33

“I bet they didn’t know the path was up here.” Dad said I was probably right about that.

When we got down to San Fruttuoso Dad said he had a surprise for me. Instead of walking back we could take the tour boat that he just happened to know stopped here on its last run of the day. So I got to ride back to Paraggi. The boat trip took forty-five minutes to cover the same distance it had taken us five and a half hours to walk.

When we got to Paraggi the sun had dropped behind the hills and the beach was in the shade. But Dad said I could have a quick swim anyway. I had been looking down at the sea below us all day and wishing I could fly down the cliffs to it and cool off. Now as I plunged in from the dock, the water felt even better than I thought it would.

Chapter 10

WE WERE IN PARAGGI FOR MY ELEVENTH BIRTHDAY. On that day my relationship with my fellow creatures in the bay changed drastically. The day before I had been a mere observer of aquatic life. A fellow creature in the secret turquoise realm. Now all that changed.

At 12:30 Mom told me to get dressed. She said we were going to have lunch that day in the pensione. When we were all at the table, Dad came in carrying an armful of presents, which he put by my place at the table while Janet, Rachael, and Mom sang, “Happy birthday to you.” The families sitting at the other tables joined in the song. Jennifer sang very loudly and deliberately off-key so her mother looked at her angrily to make her stop. But I smiled at Jennifer, and she made a funny face.

“Can I open them now?” I asked.

Mom said, “No, wait for dessert.”

Of course I knew dessert was to be a birthday cake and it would probably be one of those weird Italian cakes, all soggy with liquor and heavy with thick marzipan “icing.” Not a cake made from a Betty Crocker chocolate cake mix like the Ladies Aid Society always sent us from America for special occasions and Mom mixed up and baked. That was O.K. because I didn’t have a sweet tooth anyway. The main thing was to blow out the candles and get the cake over with so I could open my presents. I knew I’d have candles because I had seen them in Moms suitcase back at home. That’s when I remembered it was going to be my birthday while we were on vacation. I had forgotten about it till then, but Mom hadn’t.