Lately we’ve felt a bit like we’re under attack.
First it was the Attack of the Teen-Age Firebombers. Well, ok, that’s overstating it: it was just little fire-crackers. But it was almost midnight, I was up alone, and they made a big flash of light and then a loud bang when they landed on the front terrace. And there were 17 of them, which seems excessive, and that doesn’t count the dozen that were set off in our mailbox. I finally woke up the Captain who went outside and shook his fist and shouted at the departing figures, lads from a nearby settlement we surmise. That was harmless, all in all, but it was unsettling because they were not throwing the flash booms anywhere except at our house.
A week or so later we went to our parcheggio to find that our sweet little Mini had been ‘keyed’ from stem to stern. It wasn’t casual, because it’s very clear that whoever did it started on the front fender and decided he wasn’t going deep enough, so he started over, deeper, and did the full length of the car, ending at the back of the rear fender. We have insurance, but that’s hardly the point – it’s the wanton defacement that is upsetting. Were we singled out? Who knows. The trattoria across the street had over 150 guests that evening, and some of them were pretty drunk by the time they left. But we have no way of knowing who did the deed or when.
The most recent insult is a large stone that was thrown on our roof from the road above. That sounds harmless enough, and in fact it was harmless. But our roof, like most of them here, is made of clay tiles, and it is reasonable to assume that if you throw a large rock from above it will break some of the tiles, leading to the inconvenience, expense and risk (it’s a high roof) of repairs. We were lucky that either the rock was too small or the tiles too strong for any damage to occur.
Nonetheless, I’m feeling paranoid. It’s always such a shock to see or suffer from an act that is just purely mean. It happens the world over, I guess. The firecrackers were probably just kids goofing around. But the car and the rock are on a different order – those were done with intent to damage. And I’m thinking about surveillance cameras… what a way to live. Or maybe… maybe we’ll call Cugino Rino in Genova. He has a menacing laugh that would scare the devil – we’ll just get him to come over here and laugh around the neighborhood a little, and then no one will dare harm us or our property again!