The Indian

I was on the strip between Naples and Rome. The roads were confusing, numerous and the area was was mostly industrial or port side. I was lonely and not motivated by the scenery and I was a bit lost. I passed an older Indian guy on the road. He was on a bicycle much like Dorothy´s. But it was rusty. I tried to ask him a question but he spoke no English. I showed him on the map where I was trying to go but he could not tell me how to get there. We stood there. He made a noise with his mouth, bobbled his head and waved me on to follow him. I tucked in behind him happy for the draft. I had been fighting the wind all day. He was amazingly fast on the bike and I had to work to keep up. I thought surely could not keep this up long, and that we would be to the eventual turn off soon. I tried not to feel guilty that he was up there breaking the wind and working so hard. We continued. Occasionally he would look back smile and give me a wave onward. I began to get a little worried, we had been riding about 20 minutes. We entered a really bad area. More prostitutes then I have ever seen in my life. One every 5o meters. I was glad to be tucked in behind him for the safety though I still worried about where we were going. I could not check my map as he was moving onward, and fast. We traveled another twenty minutes. More prostitutes, more wind, more worry. He smiled and waved me on again. I followed. Thirty minutes later, he pulled to a halt in front of a big sign that said "Roma". We had been riding for more than an hour. He smiled and patted me on the back. I said my thank you´s. Then, he made a u turn and headed back. He had escorted me to my destination, way past his.