Once upon a time in Messina, there lived a boy named Nick who loved to swim. Or so begins the tale of Cola Pesce, told by many, including Italo Calvino in his book of Italian folktales. So great was his love that Nick spent his days and nights in the sea while his mother stood on the shore, pleading: “Oh, Nick, come out of the water, you are not a fish.” He didn’t listen, though, and every day he swam farther out while his desperate mum yelled across the water until it gave her a kink in her intestines. Then, one day, having screamed herself hoarse, she blurted out – as is so often the case in such circumstances – “Nick, may you turn into a fish.” And he did – or, rather, he turned into a half-fish, half-man, with webbed feet like a duck and a throat like a frog. And that was that; Nick never set foot on land again, which upset his mum so much that she died.
As is also the case in such circumstances, news of Nick the fish reached the king, who sent a sailor to find him. “Oi,” shouted the sailor when he spotted Nick gliding on a wave, “the king of Messina wants to see you.” Nick, not having any choice in the matter, swam over to the palace. The king was delighted and ordered Nick to swim around the entire coast of Sicily to see where the sea was deepest and what was there. Nick followed orders, and he soon recounted that he’d seen mountains, caves, valleys and fish on the floor of the sea; he had been frightened only once, when he passed the lighthouse and was unable to find the bottom. Nick also discovered that Messina rested on three columns: one whole, one splintered, one broken.
