The Coming of Fabrizze: A Novel (Black Squirrel Books) (4 page)

“No one wakes me in the morning,” said Fabrizze. “Sharp at five all the blood rushes to my head. I'm ready for anything. I can run straight to the top of a mountain.”

“I can hardly climb to the bathroom,” said Rossi.

“There's a black dog in the neighborhood. He follows me when I leave the house. He knows I'm on the track of a big thing.”

“Now I remember you,” said Rossi. “The nephew of Augustine. The mountains, my boy. You've come from the mountains.”

“I have a cup of earth from a mountain near my home. I breathe deep when I look at it.”

“Stop a moment,” said Rossi. “Save your strength. Listen to me. I'm putting you in charge of the men for a day or two. Do you think you can build a number ten switch down by the water pump? Can you do it right and good? You are so young, my boy, that I must show evidence of your ability to the superintendent. Come along and I'll explain what I want. Afterwards you can go home and think it through. Tomorrow you stand or fall.”

The next morning Rossi came to lend a hand. He stood there stunned. Fabrizze was whirling in the midst of the men.

“The switch rails are measured,” he was saying. “I measured them while you slept. You men keep grading. We start the spiking right away. Get the clamps ready. This rail is to be cut.”

A rail was set on the angle bar. Cardino cut through it with a blow torch. Fabrizze helped his men lift the rail high before dropping it to break the end off.

“Everybody run,” said Fabrizze, dropping the rail. “Everybody come back. Leave the torch on. Put a hole here. This goes from the switch point to the rail of the frog!”

“To the frog,” said Rumbone.

“What dialect is this?” said Gritti.

“Along the stock rail,” said Fabrizze. “Watch the guard rail. Ready with the fish plate. In at the joint. Keep tamping.”

“The fish plate,” said Augustine.

“Start with the spiking,” said Fabrizze. “Gritti works without singing. Keep singing. Watch the lip on that rail. Put the rails in tight. They'll shrink in the cold. Up on the angle bar. Cut where the line is. Everybody lift. Everybody run. Leave the torch on. Put a hole here.”

Suddenly Fabrizze was dashing down to the dispatcher.

“Open the westbound,” he said. “The main line is open.”

He hurried back.

“Here he comes,” said Cardino, dropping the torch.

The men stopped in their tracks as though beset.

“Why dig so deep?” said Fabrizze, to the shovelers. “What are you burying? Save your strength. Get ready with the spikes. This to be cut. Around the knuckle. Up on the angle bar. Everybody lift. Everybody run. Penza runs without lifting. Leave the torch on. Put a hole here. And here and here!”

Rossi left to make his rounds.

No one was in sight when he returned. The switch gleamed in the sun. Fabrizze and Augustine came out of the tool shed.

“Where are the men?” said Rossi. “Did you bury them?”

“They worked well and so I sent them home,” said Fabrizze.

“We'll see about this,” said Rossi.

He crawled over the seventy-seven feet of switch. He studied every inch of it. He stood up and scratched his head. For a moment it seemed he would get down and crawl over it again.

“Nothing is hidden,” said Fabrizze, laughing. “It's there in the sun for you.”

“But how did you get such work out of them?” said Rossi.

“It was stored up,” said Fabrizze. “These men were saving and saving and all restless with it. I helped them to spend a little. I challenged them. I asked if they came six thousand miles to play in the sand with their shovels. ‘So it seems,' said Gritti. But then one of the others came forward. How angry he was. ‘I for one say no!' he cried. He threw his shovel aside. The rest of the men were excited. ‘Follow me,' I said. ‘This morning we'll sign our name with a fine switch crossing.' And there it is.”

“Wait, wait,” said Rossi. “Who was it came forward?”

“A man from Abruzzi,” said Augustine.

“He's called Rumbone,” said Fabrizze. “Such pride!”

“Come along and take supper with me,” said Rossi. “And bring your uncle. I want to keep an eye on him.”

“The mountains, the mountains,” said Augustine.

“They fell on me,” said Rossi.

F
ABRIZZE was put in charge of maintenance and track repair from the Yale Bridge down ten miles to United Steel. Fifteen men followed him. Each day they followed him closer. Augustine became a watchman. Fabrizze arranged the pleasant job when he heard his uncle speak of a return to Italy.

“I don't understand this job,” said Augustine. “Who was the watchman before me?”

“The men took turns,” said Fabrizze. “Now the job is yours. You'll watch the tool shed. You must be here early in the morning to open the shed and pass out the tools. Here is the key. What a relief to put the burden on you.”

“And after I pass out the tools?”

“Be ready for anything,” said Fabrizze. “Watch, watch. Today you can watch for rain. See how cloudy it is?”

“And if it rains?”

“Shut the door and stay inside,” said Fabrizze. “Come out later and watch for the rainbow. I'm leaving now with the men. We'll be back for lunch. Are you watching?”

“Like a bulldog,” said Augustine. “I'm watching for the one who'll come to steal this job.”

Rumbone assumed the title of chief assistant to the section foreman. It gave him the right to repeat orders.

“Come with me,” Fabrizze would say. “Come with me for something different. A new thing for us. It's like an adventure. We must get to the bottom of the rubbish cars.”

“Rubbish cars,” said Rumbone. “An adventure.”

“Stop, Rumbone, stop,” said Gritti. “Do you really think it's an adventure in the rubbish cars?”

“I believe what the foreman says,” said Rumbone.

“It's different when he says it,” said Gritti. “Control yourself. Not everyone should walk the rope.”

Fabrizze was irresistible. Several of his men lived in the red rooming house and they would pound his door early in the morning. They came to fetch him for work. Shouts were heard as they swept him like a prize into the railroad yard. His success was startling evidence of the opportunity in America.

“Is it Fabrizze?”

“Come this way, my boy. I have white cake for you.” Penza was following Fabrizze.

“I had a look at the switch,” said Penza, in his quiet confiding way. “It's over a month now. It will outlast us all.”

“Come along to the shed,” said Fabrizze. “We'll leave our lunches there and have a bit of coffee. Let's see if my uncle is on duty. Penza, Penza! What a watchman we have!”

Augustine was standing snug between two vertical beams in the darkest corner of the shed. Fast asleep, he was facing the other way with hands driven into pockets.

“How resourceful,” said Fabrizze, softly. “Look at him. Will he oversleep at home in a warm bed? Never, never. He comes at dawn to open the shed for us. Duty, Penza, duty.”

“There is something in what you say,” said Penza. “Myself, I wouldn't have seen it in just that light. He's sleeping, eh?”

“No, my friend, no,” said Augustine, working loose from between the beams. “I'm watching every move you make.”

“How cunning,” said Fabrizze. “We should go on tiptoe here. What a watchman!”

“But does he watch all day?” said Penza. “The men complain that food is missing from their lunches. All the best of it, too. Gritti's cake was taken. A peach was stolen from Cardino. I was missing a green pepper with olive oil inside.”

“What kind of thief is this?” said Augustine. “Show your face! Who dares to steal bread from men sweating in the sun?”

“It isn't the bread,” said Penza. “It's the cake and other sweet things.”

“I'll never rest,” said Augustine. “I'll track him to the end of the earth. I'll catch him by the hair and swing him round my head. We need more evidence.”

“Today I brought two of the green peppers,” said Penza.

“With oil?” said Augustine.

“With oil,” said Penza. “I was hoping the thief would leave me one. What do you think?” “Time will tell,” said Augustine.

“On guard,” said Fabrizze. “Come along then, Penza. I have news for the men…. Listen, everyone, listen. Come closer. I have a surprise for you.”

“It's the slag dump,” said Gritti.

“No, no,” said Fabrizze. “The men at the steel company sent word to Rossi. Switch crossings are needed down by the new coke plant. Do you know they chose us to do the work? One of them heard we'll save time and money. And Rossi is giving us a chance with it.”

Rossi came by to supervise. He began to circle the group of men. Closer and closer he came. Suddenly he was making a wider circle. It looked like an escape.

“There's no way in, eh?” said Cardino.

“And no way out,” said Gritti.

“Leave the torch on!” said Fabrizze.

“It begins again,” said Cardino.

Rossi watched from a distance. He went away for lunch and came back with the superintendent. The next morning they were smoking their pipes and watching. Now and again they nodded to each other.

“I knew his uncle before he came,” said Rossi.

“Remarkable,” said the superintendent. “I was standing behind him. He turned around. His hair is like flame and still you see the blue of his eyes. And then it's his nose. It was holding me there. I couldn't move.”

“I started him as a water boy,” said Rossi. “The men would call for water just to look at him. He was drowning them.”

Along came the chief engineer McGuire. He asked for a pipeful of tobacco. He was watching Fabrizze as he lit the pipe. Smiling, he turned to the superintendent.

“He's good to watch?” said McGuire.

“Good to watch? I almost took my shirt off and got in with him. I was thinking about him last night. I looked forward to seeing him again. I came straight here.”

“You have nothing better to do?” said McGuire.

The superintendent left.

“Wait a moment, Rossi,” said McGuire. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Didn't I hear that these men were on the verge of a mutiny? No need to hide it. I know they assaulted you. I have sources of information. And here is a young man getting music out of them. Listen to me. I want him left alone on this job.”

McGuire was left alone there smoking his pipe.

T
HE strong intricate web of rail was finished to perfection in three months. Word of it spread through the neighborhood. Friends came in the evening to study it from high on Yale Bridge. Everyone was talking about Fabrizze. The wives of his men learned that his mother was dead. They sent fruit and cake to him in the lunches of their husbands. They offered to do his laundry and mend his socks. It was a time of great happiness.

One day at noon the men gathered for lunch. They sat in the shade of the sycamore tree behind the tool shed. Fabrizze was the center of attention.

“Here is hot pepper for you,” said Bassetti. “It will stir the fire in your blood.”

“Taste a bit of cheese,” said Cardino. “From the province of Calabria. My poor mother makes it with her own hands. She sends it every year, my boy, and it keeps me under her spell. It's my wife who says it.”

“Calabria, Calabria,” said Fabrizze. “They say you'll never mistake an apple from there.”

“Everything is smaller,” said Cardino. “Even the men.”

“The apples are small and wrinkled,” said Fabrizze. “But they are sweet and strong as wine. It's because the earth is poor and they have to fight for life.”

“I could listen to this a little longer,” said Cardino.

“There's a girl asking about you,” said Penza.

“Who is she?” said Fabrizze.

“Her name is Grace. She lives with her grandfather Mendone in the gray house on Jackson Street. What a lovely girl! Black hair. Her eyes are brown and yet you'll see this light of gold if she's pleased. She looks at you and she's all satisfied.”

“The carpenter Mancini is after her,” said Gritti. “And he made a proposal.”

“A bit of advice,” said Rumbone. “Waste no time with women. A woman is like an anchor.”

“There it is,” said Penza, lighting up. “A pepper gone.”

“What kind of man is this?” said Augustine. “Who would dare?”

“Someone at the mercy of his appetite,” said Bassetti.

“I don't mind,” said Penza. “One day he left me both peppers and I was feeling left out of it. How would you say it?”

“The pepper is a bond between you,” said Rumbone.

“We'll set a trap,” said Augustine. “He's in our midst, be sure of it. Trust no one. Bring another pepper tomorrow. We'll draw him in deeper and deeper.”

“I'll bring two again,” said Penza.

“With oil, with oil,” said Augustine.

“Her people come from Reggio,” said Gritti. “It's a city just across from Sicily. Do you know I come from Sicily?”

“It's your nose that tells us,” said Rumbone.

“My nose?”

“They call it the Sicilian nose,” said Rumbone. “I saw it in a book once. It's a nose more for use than beauty.”

“Look who's talking,” said Gritti.

“Sicily, Sicily,” Fabrizze was saying, in a puzzled way.

“The word itself is laughter,” said Gritti.

“The joke is on you,” said Rumbone.

“I believe I've heard of Sicily,” said Fabrizze.

“Of course you've heard of it,” said Gritti. “Don't listen to them. Sicily is known the world over. We are off by ourselves and washed clean by the sea on all sides. At one time, they say, the famous men of Greece were there.”

“It was a Greek who first landed there,” said Rumbone. “He had two flags with him. ‘I claim it for Greece,' he said. And then he looked again. ‘I claim it for Italy instead,' he said. And then he left. And so did you.”