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Home To Italy Part 17

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.

"That's not funny, Peppi," said Enzo, crus.h.i.+ng out his cigarette. "Don't even joke like that." Peppi," said Enzo, crus.h.i.+ng out his cigarette. "Don't even joke like that."

"I'm not joking," said Peppi. "She's coming back today. I spoke with her father just last night on the telephone."

They were standing at the front door to the factory. It was early morning and the rest of the workers were just straggling in like war-weary troops on their way to the front. The incessant heat of the past few weeks had taken its toll; just arriving at work to start their day was something of an accomplishment. Like any good field commander, Enzo knew when to push his troops and when to go easy. He was a compa.s.sionate supervisor, so he had carefully a.n.a.lyzed the work that needed to be completed to shut down the factory for August and the amount of time allotted to do it. With that in mind, he set a reasonable pace for his charges with the goal of having everything finished just in time for Lucrezia's return. Until that very moment, he had been serene, perfectly content in the knowledge that all was going along right on schedule. When he realized, however, that Peppi might be in earnest, that Lucrezia was indeed returning early, Enzo's face turned ashen.

"You are are joking, right, Peppi?" he said, his voice full of dread. "Please tell me you're joking." joking, right, Peppi?" he said, his voice full of dread. "Please tell me you're joking."



Peppi winced and replied with a shake of his head.

"Dio in cielo!" Enzo cried. "She'll murder us all!" Enzo cried. "She'll murder us all!"

With no time to waste, Enzo fled into the factory to raise the alarm. There soon ensued the clamor of lamentation and profanity one might expect in such a desperate situation. From the cries of despair and wails of mutual recrimination, one might have thought that the end of the world was coming.

Peppi ducked his head inside the door to get a peek at the scene. Pandemonium, he saw, reigned supreme. Workers were running back and forth, their arms laden with boxes of confetti that had been stacked in haphazard piles and now needed to be stowed neatly away with the rest of the inventory. Now and then the workers collided with one another, causing them to drop their loads and spill out the contents onto the floor. With rags in their hands, others climbed atop the machinery and began hastily wiping everything down. Poor Enzo stood amidst the confusion, trying vainly to bring some semblance of order to the sudden frenzy of activity that swirled about him. Frantically he screamed out instructions, waving his arms and hands for emphasis like a conductor at the crescendo of a symphony.

"The vats!" he cried, making no attempt whatsoever to hide his sense of panic. "Clean the vats first, then then wipe down the machinery!" He paused when he saw Peppi observing him from the door with sympathetic eyes. "It will take a miracle to finish before she arrives," he lamented, "a miracle." wipe down the machinery!" He paused when he saw Peppi observing him from the door with sympathetic eyes. "It will take a miracle to finish before she arrives," he lamented, "a miracle."

The best Peppi could offer was a shrug. Just then, as the noise and confusion reached its apogee, the shrill ringing of the office telephone pierced the air. All activity stopped and dead silence fell over the factory.

The telephone rang again.

Enzo turned dejected eyes to Peppi, shook his head, and marched off to answer it while the others held their breath. "Buon giorno, Signora Lucrezia," "Buon giorno, Signora Lucrezia," his voice echoed throughout the factory. One could almost hear the communal gulp that followed those words. his voice echoed throughout the factory. One could almost hear the communal gulp that followed those words.

Grim-faced, but finally composed, Enzo emerged from the office a short time later. He walked out before them, looking like a man who had resigned himself to the fact that his fate was now sealed and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Three o'clock," he told them. "She'll be back by three o'clock."

The full gravity of the situation set in and no one spoke until Fabio finally stepped forward. "We can do it, Enzo!" he cried. "We can do it if we all work together. We won't let you down!" His words rallied his co-workers and before Enzo could mutter another word, the previous chaos resumed.

Peppi came inside and did whatever he could to help with the cause. Before long, though, he left them, for he wanted to tend to the front gardens and the courtyard before Lucrezia came home. He wasn't sure why, but somehow it had become very important to him that things should be looking their best when she arrived. As he walked out the front door, Peppi stopped and gave Enzo a salute to wish him good luck. Enzo rolled his eyes in reply and looked up to heaven, his hands folded in supplication.

Outdoors, it was another scorching day, and the beads of sweat rolled off Peppi's forehead as he set himself to work in the gardens beneath the midmorning sun. Now and then a stray cloud would wander by overhead and cast its cooling shadow over him. The relief was always brief, though, and the sun felt that much hotter on his shoulders when it reappeared. Despite the heat, Peppi whistled a cheerful tune as he went along pruning the bushes and weeding the flower beds. He liked the warm weather and he felt happy to be busy with a clear purpose once again.

Afterwards, Peppi went out back to the courtyard and spent some time raking around the arbor and fussing with the grapevines coiled about it. The flower beds, he noted, were still in good shape for he had kept them well watered. Once he was satisfied that things were looking as good as might be expected, Peppi sat down on the bench beneath the arbor to take a short break. As he cast his gaze about at the gardens, he thought that it might be a nice idea to pick some flowers to leave on Lucrezia's desk, just to welcome her back. When he went back inside, he would look around the factory to see if he could lay his hands on a vase.

Noontime was fast approaching and Peppi felt a twinge of hunger in his stomach. His first impulse was to go upstairs to his apartment and fix himself a light lunch. His thoughts, though, turned to Enzo and the workers inside the factory. With the deadline of Lucrezia's return hanging over their heads like a guillotine, they would certainly not be taking any siestas that day. Peppi felt sorry for them, and guilty at being able to relax and enjoy his lunch when they could not. Without giving another thought to his stomach, he collected the gardening tools, stowed them away, and went back inside the factory to see how things were progressing.

"Let's face it," said Enzo when Peppi returned, "it would take an act of G.o.d for us to finish everything before she gets back. My only hope is that we have the place close enough to being finished that she won't notice where things are a little rough around the edges, if you know what I mean."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Peppi offered.

"You could go to church and pray for us," Enzo suggested with a wry smile.

"Is that all?" said Peppi, patting him on the shoulder.

Enzo sighed and shook his head. "At this point, it would help as much as anything."

"Okay," chuckled Peppi, "I'll do it. But first I need to take a look around."

"What are you looking for?" said Enzo.

"A vase."

Peppi walked off to the back offices to begin his search. He soon discovered that there were no vases to be found in any of the offices and there was nothing suitable in any of the closets or storage areas in the factory. He stood for a moment in the middle of the factory floor, wondering where he might look next. That's when it occurred to him that if he could not find a vase, he should just go out and buy a new one. With that in mind, he bid farewell once more to Enzo and his cohorts and headed off into town on his bicycle.

Despite the heat of the afternoon sun, a surprising number of people were strolling about on the piazza when Peppi pedalled into town on his rusty old bike with the basket. Most were old women looking after their grandchildren while the parents were off at work. The children kicked soccer b.a.l.l.s and gleefully chased each other around the piazza while their grandmothers pa.s.sed the time gossiping among themselves. Peppi smiled, for the scene might easily have been one out of his own childhood. The world had turned many times since he left for America so many years ago, but things in his home-town had not truly changed all that much.

Peppi rode across the piazza and turned down a narrow cobblestoned alleyway that wound its way through one of the adjoining neighborhoods. The air was distinctly cooler there because the stone buildings on either side kept the street in shadow most of the day. Just being out of the sun made a refres.h.i.+ng change. Peppi pedalled a short way down the street before he spied the "aperto" flag in front of the little gift shop he sought. He was pleased to find it open, having feared that the owner might already be taking his flag in front of the little gift shop he sought. He was pleased to find it open, having feared that the owner might already be taking his siesta. siesta.

"You're lucky," said Enrico, the gift shop's owner, when Peppi came in. "I was just about to close the place and go home for lunch."

"I won't keep you long," Peppi promised him. "I just came in for one small thing."

"Take your time, take your time," Enrico urged him, giving him a wink. "Buy as many things as you want. We have plenty! My stomach can always wait."

"Thank you," chuckled Peppi, "but all I need is a vase to put some flowers in. Nothing too fancy. Just something simple."

"I have just the thing," said Enrico without hesitation. He turned and went off to the back of the shop. A few moments later he returned carrying a simple white vase large enough to hold a good-sized arrangement of flowers. He held it up for Peppi to inspect.

Peppi smiled and nodded.

"Perfetto," he said. he said.

Later, with the vase bundled up in brown paper to protect it on the ride home, Peppi carefully walked his bike back out the alley so as not to jostle the basket on the cobblestones. When he came back out into the sunlight, he paused at the edge of the piazza. The bells in the church tower across the way had just chimed one o'clock, and the women and children were all making their way home for lunch. Peppi was feeling hungry and thirsty himself, so he began to walk his bike over to the bar to buy a bottle of mineral water to sustain him on the ride home. As he pushed the bike along, he happened to look down the road that led down the hill and away from the village.

Off in the distance he saw a tiny glint of sunlight. He stopped and gazed intently at it until it became clear that what he had seen was the sun reflecting off an approaching automobile. Judging by the speed at which the car was zooming along, Peppi knew in an instant that it must be Lucrezia. Her break-neck driving style was unmistakable. Peppi let out a laugh, but it should have come as no surprise to him that she would make it home nearly two hours early.

With no time left to get home before her, Peppi put the flowers and the vase out of his mind and stood there watching as the car sped closer and closer to the village. For a brief time, he lost view of it as the road disappeared from sight behind the buildings that encircled the piazza. Not long after, though, he heard the growl of a car engine. Peppi looked down the road just in time to see the car turn the corner and start the climb up the hill to the piazza. As luck would have it, Lucrezia looked up ahead and saw Peppi standing there. To his delight, her face broke out in a great smile when her gaze met his. She put her hand out the window and waved.

It was then that something happened that would forever alter the final course of Peppi's life. As he lifted his hand to wave back, something moving off to the side caught his attention. It was a soccer ball, he realized, rolling off the piazza-and into the car's path. Directly behind, a little boy who had squirmed free from his mother's grasp, chased after it. Oblivious to the danger until it was too late, the child darted out into the road. At the sight of the oncoming car, he froze in his tracks like a fawn. With no time to stop, Lucrezia instinctively swerved the car hard to her right. Miraculously, she avoided the boy, and the ball glanced harmlessly off the car's fender. The car, though, had veered far off the edge of the road.

People in circ.u.mstances such as this often recount that the experience seemed to take place in slow motion. In Peppi's case, however, his mind raced at the speed of light to the conclusion before the event had actually taken place. In a flash, he envisioned the crumbling pavement on the edge of the road, the pavement he had noticed so many weeks ago and had intended to do something about. He saw it giving way beneath the weight of the car, the rear wheel spinning and spewing bits of dirt and rock out the back as it tried to gain traction. He saw Lucrezia futilely trying to right the car before it was too late.

He saw the inevitable.

Despite Lucrezia's best efforts to steer the car back onto the road, its momentum caused it to skid and slide sideways down the embankment. For an agonizing instant, it teetered there on two wheels. Lucrezia let out a scream of terror just before the car toppled over and dropped from sight. It rolled down the rest of the embankment until it came to a cras.h.i.+ng halt on the dry, rocky riverbed below. For a moment all was still. Then the back end of the car burst into flames.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.

Once, when Peppi was young, he rode his bicycle in a regional cycling champions.h.i.+p that took place just a few towns over from Villa San Giuseppe. The race course was not particularly arduous, as it travelled through the nearby valleys over predominately flat and rolling roads. Just the same it was a fast, furious race. With no leg-shattering climbs to break the field apart, the final outcome was decided by a frantic ma.s.s sprint to the finish. he rode his bicycle in a regional cycling champions.h.i.+p that took place just a few towns over from Villa San Giuseppe. The race course was not particularly arduous, as it travelled through the nearby valleys over predominately flat and rolling roads. Just the same it was a fast, furious race. With no leg-shattering climbs to break the field apart, the final outcome was decided by a frantic ma.s.s sprint to the finish.

By that age, Peppi had developed into a formidable sprinter. Like all good sprinters, he knew how to handle himself without fear during the frenetic final moments of a race when everything happened with breathtaking speed, when the slightest misjudgment could cost one the race or, worse, cause a serious crash. He understood that, at the crucial moment, a successful sprinter doesn't think, he simply acts on instinct. Somehow or other on that particular day, Peppi managed to weave his way through the maze of man and machine hurtling down the road. The tiniest of gaps opened between two riders in front of him. At the last moment, he dashed through the breach and sprinted across the finish line a whisker ahead of the next closest rider.

Afterwards, a friend asked him to describe the victory and how the final few hundred meters of the race had played out. Peppi shrugged and said that it was just luck that he had seen an open lane to the finish. He could offer no other explanation because, right at the moment, he could remember next to nothing else about how he had gotten himself to the finish line other than the fact that he simply wanted to get there first. It was quite often that way for him after such races. Not until much later on, perhaps as he lay in bed at night, could Peppi replay the whole thing in his mind and dissect each and every second with any clarity. In the heat of battle, though, it was all just a blur.

That was how things were for Peppi, so many years later, on that blazing hot afternoon on the piazza in Villa San Giuseppe when Lucrezia's car tumbled off the road. He had no conception of how he suddenly found himself at the bottom of the steep embankment, struggling over the rocks to get to the car. He did not know or care what had become of his bicycle and the flower vase. He was oblivious to the women and children screaming in horror up above. All Peppi knew in that moment was that he wanted to get there first.

The car had rolled over onto the driver's side. When Peppi reached it, he saw that the fire that had broken out in the rear was now advancing with terrifying speed toward the front. He knelt and looked in through the winds.h.i.+eld. All he could see was the top of Lucrezia's head. To his dismay, she didn't appear to be moving, and for a terrible moment Peppi was sure she was dead. Just as quickly, he realized that he was wrong. Lucrezia was not dead but looking down at her lap. Her body was folded up like a baby in the womb. Though she couldn't lift her arms, her hands were working frantically to unbuckle her seat belt. Unable to release it, she looked up in panic just in time to see Peppi climbing up onto the pa.s.senger's side of the car.

"Save me, Peppi!" she screamed in terror.

Balancing himself atop the car, Peppi tried desperately to pull open the pa.s.senger door. With the sides of the door caved in and the roof crumpled by the impact of the crash, it refused to give. Peppi tried and tried to wrench it free, but it was of no use. By now the flames had spread to the backseat and he knew that it was only a matter of moments before they reached the front-and Lucrezia was consumed.

Peppi stood there for a moment, his mind feverishly trying to sort out what to do next. Maddeningly, he could hear Lucrezia screaming his name just a few feet away, but he could not reach her. Suddenly the car s.h.i.+fted slightly and Peppi slipped and fell to the ground. He cracked his knee hard against a rock, but oddly he never felt the pain. Instead, at that crucial moment, instinct took over. With time running out and nothing else to do, Peppi staggered to his feet, lifted the same rock, and used it to smash the winds.h.i.+eld.

The gla.s.s shattered into thousands of tiny pellets that fell to the ground like drops of water spilling from a bucket.

"Save me, Peppi!" Lucrezia screamed again in panic. "I can feel the fire! Don't let me die! Please don't let me die!"

With the flames licking at the front seat like the tongue of a snake, Peppi reached in and tried to grab Lucrezia by the shoulders. He managed to push aside the shoulder harness, but try as he might, he could not get a firm hold of her. At last he grabbed her unceremoniously by the head and pulled with all his might. Lucrezia let out a shriek of protest.

"You have to help me!" Peppi cried.

"How?"

"Push with your legs!"

"I can't!"

"Try!"

Lucrezia arched forward and tried to push with her legs. It was a weak effort, the most she could give, but it was just enough to make her budge a tiny bit. Peppi slipped one hand under her arm.

"Again!" he screamed.

Now the tears were streaming down Lucrezia's face as she struggled to free herself. "Don't let me die, Peppi!" she begged him. "Please, I want to live!"

"Then pus.h.!.+"

Lucrezia tried again. This time Peppi managed to reach over her back and get both hands under her arms beneath her shoulders. Little by little, as she wriggled her waist out of the seat belt, he began to slide her out over the dashboard.

"One more push," he told her, his voice calmer now, his mind totally focused despite the searing heat of the flames against the tops of his hands and arms. "Just one more push."

Crying out in agony from the strain, like a mother in labor, Lucrezia gathered herself and gave one last push. It moved her enough so that Peppi could now stand and put his legs and back into the effort. With his hands clasped firmly around her, he dug in his heels and pulled with every bit of strength he possessed. Steadily, Lucrezia's head then shoulders emerged from the car. With one final try, Peppi pulled the rest of her free just as the fire engulfed the front seat.

The violent effort, combined with her sudden release, sent the two of them sprawling side-by-side to the ground. s.h.i.+vering from fright, Lucrezia immediately curled into a ball like a new-born child trying to stay warm. "Don't let me die, Peppi," she murmured.

Wasting no time, Peppi swept her up into his arms.

"Please don't let me die, Peppi," she sobbed over and over again as he carried her up and away from the burning wreck. "I want to live, Peppi. I want to live!" live!"

Peppi cradled her close as he carried her up away from the burning wreck. "I won't let you die," he told her gently. "I promise."

At hearing the crash and the cries of the women, some of the men who worked in town, and others who just happened to be home that afternoon, had come running to the piazza. They scrambled down the embankment to help Peppi carry Lucrezia. One of the men offered to carry her the rest of the way, but Lucrezia kept her arms wrapped tightly around Peppi's neck.

By the time they reached the top of the embankment they could hear the wail of a siren. In all the confusion, only Enrico, the shopkeeper, had the presence of mind to run back to his shop and call for help. The crowd moved aside to allow the ambulance through when it finally screamed into the piazza and the two rescue workers jumped out.

Peppi never once let go of Lucrezia until the moment he laid her safely down on the stretcher. While one of the rescue workers strapped her in securely, the other turned to Peppi, whose face had by now lost all color.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Maybe you should come along too."

"No, I'm fine," Peppi insisted. "Just take care of the girl."

No sooner had the ambulance driven away with Lucrezia when, down below the piazza, her car exploded into a ball of fire, chasing everyone away from the edge of the embankment. Then they all mobbed around Peppi, patting him on the back and mussing up his hair to congratulate him on his heroics. Cries of Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! filled the air. filled the air.

In response, Peppi could only shrug and give a modest smile. Like any true cyclist, the first words out of his mouth were, "Where is my bike?"

Everyone laughed at his bravura, then Peppi collapsed to the ground out of sheer exhaustion.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN.

When news of the accident reached Luca and Filomena shortly after it happened, they dropped everything and raced home from Alba Adriatica. Despite a.s.surances that Lucrezia did not appear to have been seriously injured, the two of them were beside themselves with worry; the long, nervous ride home was an agonizing ordeal. Early that evening, when they finally arrived at the hospital in Sulmona where Lucrezia had been taken, Luca and Filomena rushed inside only to discover that their daughter had already checked herself out and gone home. reached Luca and Filomena shortly after it happened, they dropped everything and raced home from Alba Adriatica. Despite a.s.surances that Lucrezia did not appear to have been seriously injured, the two of them were beside themselves with worry; the long, nervous ride home was an agonizing ordeal. Early that evening, when they finally arrived at the hospital in Sulmona where Lucrezia had been taken, Luca and Filomena rushed inside only to discover that their daughter had already checked herself out and gone home.

"What do you mean, you let her check out?" Filomena screamed. "She was just in a terrible accident! What kind of hospital is this?"

"Well," the doctor tried to explain, "except for a few cuts and bruises and some soreness in her neck, she had no other injuries or complaints. It was actually quite miraculous, judging by the account she gave of her accident. I think she was mostly just very shaken up by the whole thing, which of course was very understandable. All the same, you should know that I did want her to stay overnight for observation, but she would have none of it. She kept insisting that she had work to do in the morning and that she wanted to go home. We all tried to convince her, but your daughter is very...well, shall we say, strong-minded?"

"Oh, so you noticed?" Luca sighed.

"Yes," the doctor continued, "and the older gentleman, who I understand pulled your daughter from the car, was much the same story. He refused to be taken in the ambulance, but someone else brought him in shortly after your daughter arrived."

"You must be talking about Peppi," said Filomena with concern.

"I have the man's name as a Signor Peppino," said the doctor, consulting his notes.

"That's him," said Luca. "Is he okay?"

"Other than a nasty contusion on his knee and a few cuts and scratches, he seemed to be fine. Again, however, I would have preferred that he also remain here overnight, just to be safe. But, like your daughter, he insisted that he preferred to go home."

"That's Peppi all over," said Luca.

"If you ask me, the two of them need a good slap in the head," Filomena added. With that thought in mind, she directed her husband to the door and the two drove home to Villa San Giuseppe.

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Home To Italy Part 17 summary

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