Home to Italy (4 page)

The train for Sulmona
pulled out of Termini a few minutes past noon. Peppi had spent the few extra dollars needed to sit in a first class compartment. It would be a long trip and he wanted to be comfortable. Besides, it would be easier to keep an eye on his luggage, particularly the case containing his bicycle, which was far more valuable to him than the combined contents of the other two suitcases. For the time being, Peppi had the compartment all to himself, so he settled into his seat and passed the time by staring out the window at the flat, uninteresting landscape. Before long his eyes grew heavy and he dozed off.

When he awoke, Peppi discovered that he had been joined by two other passengers. One was an attractive young woman. Sitting one seat over on Peppi's side of the compartment, she flipped through the pages of a fashion magazine. Across from her sat a young, smartly dressed businessman. The young man, Peppi noted with amusement, was pretending to scan the headlines of the financial news while periodically looking up in the hope of catching the young woman's eye. For her part, the young woman never so much as glanced his way, completely ignoring the young man in that maddening and devastating way that only Italian women know how to do.

Peppi sat up straight and gave a little yawn. To the consternation of the young man, the young woman turned and smiled at the older gentleman.

“I'm sorry, Signore,” she said, pulling her belongings closer to her to make more space for Peppi. “I hope I didn't disturb you.”

“Not at all, Signorina,” answered Peppi. “Far worse things can happen to an old man than to wake up and find a beautiful young lady sitting beside him.”

The young woman beamed. The young man fumed.

Peppi smiled and turned to look out the window as the train clattered along. The landscape had changed dramatically, the flatlands now replaced by rolling hills that would soon give way to the mountains. It wouldn't be long before they reached the Abruzzo region.

“I hope I didn't miss my stop,” said Peppi, stretching his arms and legs.

“Where are you traveling to, Signore?” the young woman asked.

Peppi turned back from the window. “Sulmona,” he answered. “And from there to Villa San Giuseppe.”

“Villa San Giuseppe,” she repeated. “I don't think I've ever heard of it.”

“It's a little
paese,
outside the city.”

“I've
heard of it,” the young man offered, hoping to join the conversation. He might just as well have been talking to himself for all the heed the young woman paid him.

“Forgive me,” she said to Peppi, “you look like an American, but your Italian is very good.”

“I am an American,” Peppi replied. “But I was born in Villa San Giuseppe.”

“Ah, going there to visit family?” she said brightly.

“No, I'm going there to live.”

“To live, how nice!” said the young woman. She paused and glanced at the ring on Peppi's finger. “Is your wife already there?” she asked.

Peppi shook his head. He glanced over at the young man, who immediately understood the look in Peppi's eyes. The young man gave a little cough, hoping the young woman would get the hint.

“Oh, then she's waiting for you back in America,” she continued, oblivious to him.

“No, Signorina,” said Peppi gently. Then he explained to her that Anna had recently passed away.

“O, Dio!”
the young woman cried, throwing her hands up. “You poor thing, I'm so sorry for having asked.”

“Don't worry,” Peppi assured her. “I'm sorry for having told you.”

Upset with herself at having made what she obviously considered a terrible blunder, the young woman sat there fretting for a time about how to make up for it. The fashion magazine on her lap no longer held any interest for her. She tossed it aside and looked at Peppi with sympathetic eyes.

“I know it's none of my business, Signore,” she said at last, “but I can't help asking. Why are you going back there to live all alone? Where will you go?”

Peppi shrugged and looked out the window. Just then the train entered a tunnel. All went dark for a few moments and the only sound he could hear was the muffled roar of the wind caught between the train and tunnel walls. Just as quickly, the train burst back into the sunlight, the mountains now rising all around them. Peppi turned away from the window and saw the sincere look of concern in the young woman's eyes. Even the young man had set aside the newspaper to pay attention. Peppi looked at them both and smiled.

“What is your name, Signorina?” he asked.

“Loredana.”

“Mine's Claudio,” the young man added.

“And yours?” said Loredana, giving Claudio only the vaguest hint of acknowledgment that they were on the same train together.

“My friends call me Peppi,” he replied.

“Tell us about it, Signor Peppi,” said Loredana. “Please, tell us where you are going.”

“It's a long story,” Peppi said.

“And it's still a long way to Sulmona,” she replied.

Peppi gazed at her for a time. He smiled again, for there was something pure and irresistible in her youthful eyes. Peppi had never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, particularly in the company of complete strangers. All the same, he could see no harm in talking about his life and the simple plans he had made for what was left of it. If nothing else, it would help pass the time. Peppi sat there for a moment, rubbing his chin.

“Where do I begin?” he wondered aloud.

Loredana smiled. “Begin at the beginning,” she suggested.

“Hmm, the beginning,” said Peppi thoughtfully. “I was born in the mountains. I guess that's a good place to start.”

As the train clacked along the tracks and the compartment gently swayed back and forth, Peppi told them about growing up in Villa San Giuseppe and how his family had made its living from the little mulino next to the house. Before long he was talking about cycling and how much he had loved to race his bicycle when he was young.

“I used to race too,” said Claudio brightly.

Peppi assessed the young man's slight build. “A climber,” he guessed.

“Like a feather on the wind!” Claudio boasted. “I could pedal uphill with the best of them.” Then he shook his head and shrugged. “Of course I wasn't much good going down the hills, or in the sprint for that matter.”

“Cycling is an unforgiving sport,” said Peppi.

“But it's the best sport,” Claudio enthused.

Loredana give a little cough to let them know that they had discussed cycling long enough. Peppi nodded to show that he understood.

“Did you come from a big family?” she asked.

“No,” said Peppi. “Actually, I was an only child. Now and then, when I was small, I used to ask my parents why I didn't have any brothers or sisters.”

“What did they say?”

“They always told me that the house was too small,” he chuckled. “If another baby came along I would have to sleep outside.”

At that Loredana and Claudio laughed.

Peppi laughed as well. He could still remember riding off to bed at night on the broad shoulders of his father, Allesandro. Peppi loved to reach back and give his father's dark mustache an impish yank. His father would always pretend it hurt and let out a howl like a wolf. Without fail, Peppi's mother, Angelina, would playfully scold him for being so mean to his father. “Mario,” she would say, for that was Peppi's real name,
“basta!
Enough! Be nice, don't hurt your poor papa, he has to work for us in the morning.”

The memory brought a grin to Peppi's face.

“But I had lots of cousins,” he went on, “so there were always lots of people in our home. I never felt lonely, at least not until the war came and suddenly everyone began to disappear. Some of my parents' relatives went off to live in America before things got bad. Others just ran away to God knows where. Many of the men of course were taken away to become soldiers. Lots of them, like my father, never returned. It was as if he and the rest of them just vanished from our lives.”

“How awful,” said Loredana.

Peppi paused and shook his head. “It was a terrible war, like all wars,” he said. “It seemed like everything was destroyed. After it was over and the Germans were all gone and the Allies finally went home, it was to time to rebuild our lives, but there wasn't much left for us to build on. My father was gone and then my mother became ill a few years later. After she died, my uncle arranged for me to come to America. I had relatives in Rhode Island and some out in San Francisco. My plan was to stay in Rhode Island for a while to get used to things, then move out west to California where one of my cousins had a job as a construction worker waiting for me.”

“What was it like living in California?” Loredana asked. “Beautiful, I would imagine.”

“Yes, I've heard it's wonderful there,” Claudio agreed.

“Actually,” Peppi chuckled, “I never lived in California.”

“What happened?”

“Eh,” shrugged Peppi, “I met my wife.”

Peppi told them the story. After arriving in America, he had gone to work at his uncle's music store in Providence, intending to wait until he had earned some money before heading out to California. One day he was carrying a box full of sheet music and lesson books across the store. It was a sizable box and Peppi had to keep leaning to one side to watch where he was going. Just as he was passing the front door a young woman walked in. She was a piano teacher and had come in to inquire about giving lessons at the store. Somehow or other the two collided and the box went toppling to the floor.

Embarrassed that he had caused such a commotion in his uncle's store, Peppi dropped to his knees and quickly began to pick everything up. He was so upset with himself that he barely noticed the piano teacher who had knelt down beside him to give him a hand. It wasn't until he had finally collected everything and restored it to the box that he stood up and turned to her so that he might thank her for her help and apologize for running into her.

Peppi took one look at her and went speechless. Though dressed plainly, the young woman had dark, silky hair and the most serenely beautiful face he had ever seen. As she gazed at him with her soft, warm eyes, Peppi felt certain that he had encountered an angel.

A long, awkward silence ensued as the two regarded one another.

“Hi, my name is Anna,” the young woman had finally said, extending her hand to him.

Peppi was a strong young man, but when their hands touched for the first time he had the odd sensation that he had lost all the strength in his well-muscled limbs, almost as if he were suddenly melting.

“I am Mario,” he had answered in faltering English. “But everybody calls me Peppi,” he added hastily.

“Why?” she said, giving him an inquisitive look. “Is there something wrong with the name Mario?”

“Why, no,” said Peppi, by now completed flustered.

“In that case,
I'll
call you Mario,” Anna told him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye, as if she had understood right away that this would be a great annoyance to him.

Peppi stopped talking for a moment and let himself enjoy the memory.

“So what happened next?” said Loredana eagerly.

“Well,” he shrugged, “I took one look at her and forgot all about California.”

“You got hit by the thunderbolt,” laughed Claudio. Then he looked at Loredana and added, “I know how that is.”

Loredana responded by rolling her eyes and looking the other way.

Peppi went on to tell them about how he and Anna were married a little over a year later. He told them about Anna's parents and brothers and sisters, and how they had all welcomed him into the family as one of their own. He told them about how Anna eventually took a job teaching music at an elementary school while he started his own landscaping business. He told them about how they scrimped and saved every nickel until they were able to buy their first and only home in Providence, a move that had caused everyone in the family great consternation even though they all lived in Cranston, just a few miles away. Peppi spoke of the many happy times he and his wife had enjoyed there, the memories flowing from him like water over the falls. Now and then he glanced at Loredana and Claudio, certain that he must have been boring them to tears, but he saw that the two were listening attentively, their faces all smiles.

“Do you have children, Signor Peppi?” Loredana asked.

“No, Signorina,” Peppi said wistfully.

“Well, that just gives a husband and wife more time for each other, right?” said Claudio at seeing the sad look in Peppi's eyes.

“Yes, that is true,” Peppi replied. “Still, we always wanted them, but it just never happened for us. Back then of course things weren't like they are today, with all the different tests they have. In those days the doctors couldn't tell you why someone couldn't have children. It was just one of those things and you learned to live with it. People used to tell us that we should have adopted a child, but to tell you the truth, we had so many nieces and nephews around us all the time that we just never gave the idea much thought. Besides, it's better to just accept things the way God gives you them and then get on with your life.”

Loredana and Claudio nodded in agreement as Peppi continued to recount some favorite memories of his marriage, but their smiles soon faded away and their eyes started to well up when Peppi eventually told them about the day Anna became sick. Without warning, she collapsed at home one afternoon. It wasn't until later at the hospital that Peppi learned that she had suffered some sort of stroke. For a week, while she was recuperating in the hospital, Anna had been unable to speak. It was an agonizing time for both of them. Gradually, though, as the days passed, she regained her voice and the movement she had lost on her right side showed signs of returning. Peppi had been sick with worry for her the whole time, but he was encouraged by the progress she was making. It seemed as though everything was going to be all right.