Ulysses went to visit his assistant. He was a journalist, had hired a girl, a very nice Italian girl, and learned immediately how things go about in the south of Italy. Everything is pop. And you must be very popular to realize your dreams. The assistant, her name was Monica, was working for the local candidate for Major. A dull man that was never accused of sexual harassment just because he was too ugly to suppose it.
The church had it's own representative: the priest's power chose the candidate and was supporting him. That was very Pop too: the same music played since '68?
"What I can't believe is that the Albanians are still trying to come here!" said Monica.
Ulysses wasn't so interested. They had the same problems for decades It was natural.
"There are some rumors - she said - but they are still coming here."
"What kind of ..." He couldn't finish his phrase. Monica was suddenly changing matters.
"Ok," Ulysses said, "you probably prefer the major." "It's just about the major," she said. "I heard, but it's gossip, and take it carefully, that he has parties with nice joung girls... Too young at that!"
"How much?" asked Ulysses interested.
"Too much," said Monica roughly. "Very young. But they are not Italians... They are Albanians."
"And?"
"And that makes a difference. They are not citizens, but immigrants. And obviously they would do everything for money. So they are considered just a cancer to take rid of."
Ulysses didn't want to waste his time cecking gossips, but he was a journalist and went to the...
"Good, a concentration camp," he said loudly when arrived.
The Albanians were forced to a vacation on a military camp grounds. And soldiers were watching them. Monica helped him to find a way, she knew everything of that area and knew all the strategies to get in without tipping the whole regiment.
"You are a real Italian," said Ulysses and went in. After few minutes he was speaking with a nice young girl, very young. She told him her story. She came into Italy without problems, her brother difended her. They had enough money. They paid every hope, they paid every right and learned immediately that they were also paying the right to survive.
"What kind of problems did you have?" asked Ulysses. He was waiting for a disgusting story. But she told him a romance. She arrived safe, no one raped her, and she knew that it was a possibility. She was lucky. She had a quiet travel, a place to stay with her brother and now they where looking for a new beginning.
"I hope as soon as we'll be out of here we'll get rich!" And she said it as if there were mountains of money waiting for her out of those gates. "I had a relation with an Italian soldier, he was in love with me, and I gave him my virginity."
"To an Italian soldier?"
"Yes, I didn't want to have my first relation with one of those ugly and rich politicians." "So, you'll marry your soldier to take the citizenship," said Ulysses, bothered of that pop romance."
"No," she said, "he left me." "Wowww!" yelled Ulysses. A real soap in an immigration camp. The young girl, the soldier, the lost virginity... Everything was perfect and very popular. "And now?" asked Ulysses curiously.
"Now I am just so angry, all my dreams are gone with that man. But I know what to do." As she spoke, she spoke Italian slang. "I am going to be a porno star and, I'll buy an apartment, fur and jewels. I'll be on television and..." She stopped on that "and."
Ulysses finished the phrase for her. "And you'll marry your rich soldier!" The girl was almost crying. "And your virginity?" asked Ulysses embarassed.
It's gone. I grew up, I am a woman now."
Ulysses saw that she was exactly the kind of woman she wanted to be. There were no more questions to ask and Ulysses was livid.
"Sir," she said. "I want to be payed!"
"What?" Ulysses shouted.
"Sir, I want to be payed or I'll shout calling the soldiers. I could tell them you tried to rape me."
Ulysses was secure of her. She learned very quickly. He payed. It was safer and easier.
"If you want something more, call me," she said. But her manners were changed. She suddenly looked like an old used bitch.
"Are you working?" asked Ulysses.
She laughed. "Don't you know the Italians have elections?"
Yes, he knew it. An immigration camp in the third millennium. The interview was finished, and Ulysses left that place. Then he thought that was going to be very pop, being photografed with the Albanian girl. He came back with a polaroid and had his photo autographed. A beautiful girl that lost her virginity in the promised land of vain promises.
Ulysses was out from the lager for the second time, then suddenly stopped. He'd forgot to ask her age. How old was she? She looked 14, but probably was younger, 13, 11, or even less.
"Well," he said, "it's better not to know." He was too tired, and didn't want to go back for the third time. Not to quarrel with the soldiers trying to get in again. But he saw the TV, new footage on the screen, the military guard was observing it attentively: BABIES RAPED! That was the popularity of the time. So Ulysses sighed, and went back trying to know the age of that damned pop girl.