History (39 page)

When, on rising promptly at dawn, they discovered that uninvited guest in the bed, they were delighted and surprised, as if by a gag in a comic fi Immediately Quattropunte thought of returning him to his mother, and so while Ace of Hearts, fi of all, absented himself in the little room on the landing, his friend fulfi the assignment of carrying the visitor to his proper address, holding him in his arms with the utmost deference. Shyly then, at the moment he passed the curtain, he asked : "May I come in?" out of respect for the Signora, though she, stirr by the sound of the alarm, was already peering out, a blanket around her shoulders, against a just lighted candle's glow, which fi through the holes in the sacks.

"Excuse me, Signora, here's the kid," Quattro murmured, with no further explanation, settling his burden on the bed with a wet-nurse's delicacy. Despite this delicacy, however, Useppe's eyes were already half open and dazed. And, seeing his brother appear, now ready to leave, he opened them wide.

Quattro went off to take his tum in the little room. And Nino, who disliked candles, calling them dead people's lights, blew out the fl putting his own glowing fl in its place on the ground. Then he asked Ida if she could give him a little money, at least for tobacco, since he didn't have a lira. And when Ida, from her familiar purse, had collected a few ten-lire notes for him, he lingered a bit to converse wi her, as if to give her a just and deserved recompense.

The object of the conversation was Vivaldi Carlo, presently sleeping, whom Nino indicated without naming him, pointing an elbow towards his curtain. In a low voice, Nino revealed to his mother that, after some thought, he had decided that character wasn't really from Bologna. "I know the Bolognese accent. I had a Bolognese girl friend, who always said sh . . . sh . . . for s . . . s . . . and he doesn't say sh . . ." If any thing, he might come from Friuli . . . or Milan . . . In short, Nin nuzzu's opinion was that he came from the North, all right. That was true. But Bologna was a lie. Similarly, it was true he was an anarchist. However, beyond the anarchism, Nino sensed some other matter he had kept hid den. Maybe even the name Carlo Vivaldi was a fake. ''I've thought about it, and you know what I say, rn . . . That guy, if you ask me, might even be a . . ." Here Nino seemed even on the point of making Ida his secret accomplice. But, thinking it over, he must have preferred the possi bility of a future alliance with ( the so-called ) Vivaldi Carlo himself. And he left his remark unfi

On her side, Ida had been on the point of whispering to him: "He's an anarchist, like your grandfather . . ." but her shyness restrained her.

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1943

Ever since the previous evening, the news that Vivaldi Carlo was an anar chist, and hence of the same persuasion as her father, had immediately sti her emoti And at supper, afterwards ( even though she was half dead with sleepiness ), hearing him tell his adventures, she had said to herself, again recalling her father's sorrows, that the anarchists evidently encountered little sympathy in this world. Moreover, his Northern accent, here and there, reminded her of her mother Nora . . . And consequently she felt an instinctive liking for Vivaldi Carlo, more than for all the other occupants of the vast room, as if a tie of solidari and kinship united her to that moody dark-haired boy. But in the face of Nino's reticence, she didn't insist on knowing any more.

Dawn was breaking outside, but the room, protected by its masked windows, lay stagnant in the night's darkness. And all the others inside continued sleeping, undisturbed by the alarm early signal, which didn't concern them. Only in Giuseppe Secondo's direction, already at the clock's fi sound, a certain busy movement could
be
noticed. And the ghostly little fl of some makeshift wick could be seen fl (in fact, at that hour, there was no electricity; and along with candles, all ordinary sources of illumination or fuel were becoming scarcerevery day).

Quattro had reappeared, and Nino collected his fl from the ground, while Ida lay back on the bed, deciding not to relight her candle stub. At this point, Useppe, seeing his brother heading for the exit, climbed urgently to the edge of the mattress and began dressing with furious haste.

In a few moments he had reached the outside doorw from which the two visitors were already moving off He was all ready, in his shorts, jersey, bound shoes, even his rainproof cloak over his arm : as if it were understood that he was leaving too. For a few more moments, he stood still and stared after the couple, now at a distance of perhaps ten yards from the threshold, on their way along the grubby little fi beyond the ditch. Then, saying nothing, he started running after them.

From inside, meanwhile, Giuseppe Secondo arrived in great haste, completely dressed as usual, with his jacket buttoned up and a hat on his head. "Just a minute!" he cried in agitation, running towards the two, and stopping them halfway along the path : "Are you going to leave without having your coff

"I
was fi you some coff
REAL
coffee!" he explained, as if promis

ing a paradisiacal delight. And, in reality, the off of true coff in those days, was no small matter. However, after exchanging a look of consulta tion, the two answered that there was no more time. A friend was waiting for them, at an agreed spot, to go back with them to the base. They had to hurry Ninnuzzu explained with some regret.

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"I won't insist then. But I have to talk to you, right here and now, about a secret matter. It'll only take half a minute, but it's urgent!" And Giuseppe Secondo feverishly drew Ninnuzzu aside, though still addressing his discourse to Quattro as well. "Listen, comrades," he said, gesticulating to them bo "I won't give you a lot of chat. I just want to say this : MY PLACE IS WITH YOU! I was telling myself as much yesterday evening, and then last night I made my decision! What am I staying here for? My

decision is to go ri to the heart of the struggle! I want to come with you, to join the ranks!
I"

Though in a low and hasty voice, he had spoken with some solemnity; and in his eyes you could read the virtual certainty that the comrades would applaud the off But Nino, making no comment, gave him a look which said clearly : "You want to be a partisan? You, you little old crow?" glancing, at the same time, at Quattro with a kind of half-amused wink. Quattro ( who, while listening, kept discreetly at a slight distance), on the contrary, didn't bat an eye; he was serious, gripped by the importance of the subject.

"Don't judge by appearances! I'm as tough as an ox. My arm is okay and in good working order now!" With this, Giuseppe Secondo, in a prompt athletic display, began to swing his right arm, injured in the July bombing. "And I know all about military science," he went on commend ing himself, in the face of Nino's skepticism, "I was in the First World War. I haven't been cutting statues all my life." Then he quickly informed them, with extreme urgency : "I also have a little liquid capital set aside, and I would be honored to place every I have at the serv of the Cause!"

This fi piece of information must have seemed more persuasive and reliable to Nino. He considered Giuseppe Secondo with an air of greater compliance; and then (after interrogating Quattropunte with a glance, to be sure of his approval), he cut things short, saying briskly:

"Do you know Remo, by any chance, the one who has the tavern in Via degli Equi?"

"Of course! He's a comrade!" Giuseppe Secondo assured him, his heart pounding with joy.

"Well, talk to him; use our names. He'll give you all the instructions." "Thanks, comrade! I'll be seeing you soon then! Very soon!!!" Giu seppe Secondo burst out, radiant with jubilation and impatience. Then, like someone waving a triumphant banner, as a way of saying au revoir, he concluded: "For our ideal, just existing isn't enough. Th time's come to

live!!"

He saluted them with clenched fi Quattropunte responded with the same salute, an expression of profound responsibility on his face. But

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Ninnuzzu, hurried and distracted, was now turning his back to go on. Then he noticed Useppe, who had already run and overtaken him, and dragging the red-lined raincloak on the ground, was now raising his eyes towards him, like birds when they drink.

"Ah, Use," Nino said, "ciao! . . . Something you wanted to tell me?" he added, after a glance. "Give me a little kiss?" And the little kiss was given; but Useppe, seeing his brother move away, began chasing after him again.

The dawn was wet and dark: the fi drops of rain were falling.

Heari Useppe's footsteps after him, Ninnarieddu turn

"Go back," he said, "it's starting to rain . . ." And he stood still for a moment, two paces away, to wave goodbye to him. Hesitant, after stopping too, Useppe dropped his raincloak on the ground, to free his hand and return the farewell. But, hanging from his limp arm, his little fi opened and closed ever so weakly, cross and reluctant.

"Useppeeeee!" Ida's voice could be heard calling from inside.

"Well, Use? Eh? What're you doing here? Can't you see it's raining?" Seeing his brother paralyzed and mute in the middle of the path, Nino made a carefree little dash backwards, fora fi kiss.

"What're you doing? Eh? You want to come with us?" he asked, joking.

Useppe looked at him without answering. Again Ida's voice could be heard from inside. Suddenly Ninnuzzu's eyes laughed, raised to the leaden sky, as if they refl clear weather.

"Use," he began, bending over his brother, "listen to me now. Today I can't take you with us. You see how lousy the weather is?" . . .

. . . "Usepeeee!"

. . . "But I want to ask you something," Nino continued, looking around and whispering into his brother's ear, as if it were all a plot, "mamma still goes out, doesn't she? Early every morning?"

"Ess."

"Well, then, listen to me. Will you believe me if I give you my word of honor?"

"Ess."

"Okay, don't say a word to mamma or to anybody else. And I give you my word of honor that one of these morn ngs, as soon as the weather's nice, when mamma's gone out, I'll come and get you, with a car some friends of mine have, and I'll take you to see the partisans' camp. Then, in plenty of time, before mamma gets home, we'll bring you back here."

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After that conversation, there wasn't a day that Useppe didn't ru to peer at the sky the moment he was awake, sticking his head out of the door, from time to time, also during the course of the morning, occasionally lingering a fairly long time, seated on the

outside step, waiting. But several days went by, days of good weather too, before Nino kept his promise. And in the meanwhile, the passage of that October was marked by other events of signifi for the inhabitants of the big room .

First of all, there was the departure of Giuseppe Secondo for the guerrilla battlefi One Sunday morning (only a very few days after the famous night of the banquet) he was seen returning, joyous and impatient, from one of his expeditions into the city. For the fi time since they had known him, he no longer wore his hat on his head. He crossed the room in one gust, paying only hasty, distracted attention to those present and their talk. In two minutes he had collected a little emergency bundle, his essen tial baggage; then he said goodbye to all, adding that, in any case, he would be coming back to the room, to pick up some other objects belonging to him which he might need in the future. But if by chance, he added, he were to lose his life in the meantime, he declared here and now, before witnesses, that he left to Signora Ida Mancuso and her little boy, here present, all his personal property which, after the event, might be still found in the room, including the two canaries and the cat. While he was on the subject, he didn't forget to hand a small sum to Carull, so that, in his absence, she could somehow take care of the two birds. As for Rossella, he said, she could perfectly well manage on her own, with garbage and mice.

At that hour, in fact, Rossella was off hunting. For various reasons, surely including her pregnancy (it was already in its last stages, though still unsuspected and invisible), with the coming of autumn she had developed a perpetual and ferocious hunger, and she had also become a thief: so all provisions had to be protected against her claws. Every time Carlo went out, she too, disdaining all other company, went off on her own, into the open, on her private hunting parties. And so she wasn't there to say good bye to her own who, for that matter, didn't bother to look for her or ask after her. It was clear that all these family matters were trivia for Giuseppe Secondo, in the face of the happy, thrilling adventure towards which he was rushing today.

Before leaving, he took Ida aside and, in confi whispered two things to her. One : for any sort of message to her son Ace of Hearts, or for any news of the same, she could always rely completely on her old acquain tance, Remo, the tavernkeeper. And two : starting today, he himself, Giu seppe Secondo and Cucchiarelli, had as a partisan a new and single name :

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Moscow, his own choice. Of these two pieces of information ( the old man explained to Ida), she could, without hesitation, transmi t the second to trusted mutual friends; whereas she was to be the only one to know the fi until the day of victory, when all the red fl would be unfurled in the free air. Having said this, the partisan Moscow gave Ida a wink of political complicity, then fl out of the room.

Flew is the word. In fact, Giuseppe Secondo was in such an aerial mood today that he had assumed an ecstatic tone, like a schoolboy on vacation, even as he hypothesized, for himself, the mortal possibility. And Ida, who since that fi day had pri tely continued calling him
the Mad

ma
saw her personal opinion confi When he had gone, however,