Entry 21: The Homecoming

Louis found himself in a sunny square in the centre of Rome, Italy, not two days after the forest face-off with the Duck and his crew of skaters. With him on the round table near a massive fountain flocked by tourists were Kookie and Samson, eating mounds of spaghetti from a popular restaurant called Il Ristorante.

Fatty, being a massive brown bear, had been stowed away in a spacious pantry inside the restaurant.

Samson was the surprising source of this smooth turn of events. After Kookie led them to a portal inside his home forest, and they travelled to Rome, Samson made some calls and arranged for their stay at Il Ristorante. He had, at some stage in his odd and befuddling life, scrawled the number of The Café (their old haunt in Sydney) on a piece of masking tape wrapped around the other arm of his glasses. He explained this decision in striking detail: “I was taken by a thought that one day I must return to The Café, when the ban was over, to reclaim desserts of the finest texture. I could not justify delay to my conscious. So I found an old yellow phonebook – after many searches in garbage dumps, it’s pages crisp like papier-mâché from years of rain where it became wet then dried, wet then dried – and what a story it is of perseverance of all objects! And though it was ancient it held the number of The Café, and there, surrounded by the finest garbage, I cherished this gift.”

After arriving in Rome, Samson called The Café and pleaded with Rosso Rajput, the owner, to arrange a stay for them with his cousin in Rome, who they had heard about because Rosso had spoken about him many times before in The Café as “the copycat cousin”.

It was still a mystery how Samson persuaded Rosso to let them stay with his cousin, Gianno Rajput, as Rosso was still mad about the bear-on-the-loose incident (see: Entry 10). Not to mention, they were now asking his cousin to help them hide that very bear… Ultimately, Louis knew it was pointless to get to the bottom of anything involving Kookie or Samson. He wondered what psychological scars made him attract such friends.

Fatty had one bucket list item for his stay in Rome before he escaped into the wilderness of his homeland: visit the Colosseum. This had to be arranged under the cover of darkness. While Louis had no interest in escorting a mammal of ginormous proportions to a historical landmark, he understood that they owed Fatty their lives. Besides, once Fatty had seen the Colosseum and imagined himself a gladiator of yesteryears who somehow maintained his pacifism, he would leave and maybe – just maybe – Louis could finally rediscover peace after being on the run for so long. Well, the Duck was still technically after them, but he no longer knew any mutual acquaintances to relay threatening messages and their current location was unknown. In fact, Louis reflected, Rome was the perfect place for a writer’s retreat. Yes, here Louis could finish his unauthorised biography of Kookie Banjo Jr. in the sunny climate of southern Europe and sell it to wide international acclaim. Then, he would be redeemed from his failure as a private investigator.

Fatty spent two full hours in the grounds of the Colosseum after midnight, pretending to be in battle for a valuable loot of vegan wings after a long famine. Louis watched from the sidelines, bored and sleepy, while Fatty ran around in manic circles. Samson was complimenting Fatty’s valour in a low mutter. Kookie was sitting next to Louis explaining one business proposition after another, the only common theme being that they all somehow involved less output than inputs.

“Alright, that’s it!” Louis said, “I’ve had it. Let’s get back to the restaurant.”

“You mean Il Ristorante,” Fatty corrected with a flourish of his paws.

“Whatever! I’m out of here.”

“It would be a fine idea to turn this Colosseum into a shopping precinct,” Kookie said as he waddled behind everyone else (pronouncing Colosseum as ‘colossal-iam’). “It is falling apart, what a bad image for this city’s reputation.”

That’s when Louis stopped in his tracks and the others crashed into him.

“You idiot! Walking too difficult for you?” Fatty raged, but Louis put up a wing.

“Look at that,” he said and pointed at a building which had a large wanted poster running down one wall. And there in the centre of the poster was a picture of Fatty. It read (in Italian):

“Have you seen this brown bear? His name is Felice ‘Fatty’ Bearscaglia. He is a lifelong pacificist, enjoys foul language and is a strict vegetarian.”

The poster mentioned the bear park Fatty had escaped from many years ago and asked anyone who had seen him to come forward and report his whereabouts.

“We better get going,” Louis said and they hurried along.

Back at Il Ristorante, Fatty turned on his newfound friends.

“You traitors!” he yelled. “Which one of you gave me away?”

“Well, hang on,” Louis said, “Why do you think it was one of us?”

“Who else could it be?”

Louis reflected, “I’d say the Duck is the most obvious candidate… or maybe Rosso? Maybe he’s still mad at us and double-crossed us?”

“Or maybe it was the Pope,” Kookie said.

After some thinking, they ruled out Rosso as his cousin Gianno would have turned Fatty in by now, which left the Duck as the only reasonable prospect.

“But – how would the Duck know my whereabouts, if it wasn’t for one of you!” Fatty shouted.

“You’re forgetting he’s after us too,” Louis shot back, “Well, actually, he’s after me and Kookie…” his voice trailed off and they all turned to Samson.

Louis regarded Samson warily, who stood in the shadows eating hard candy he’d found on the floor of the Colosseum. Louis recalled the time he had been suspicious of Samson before and had followed him only to discover he was terrible at his job. Yet, it made sense for it to be Samson. After all, he had been in direct communications with the Duck before, relaying those threatening messages. He had relayed them with a blinding naiveté, but still.

“You have something to confess?” Fatty asked Samson, his arms folded.

Samson looked gleeful but didn’t say anything. He offered up his hard candy and the others shook their heads, even Kookie.

“Looks like the interrogation begins!” Louis said.