Part 3 (1/2)
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 a.s.sessed 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! ”basta! Enough! Be nice, don't hurt your poor papa, he has to work for us in the morning.” 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sing 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.
Embarra.s.sed 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 fl.u.s.tered.
”In that case, I'll 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. 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sed, 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.
One night at the hospital when visiting hours were nearly over, Peppi tucked the blankets in around his wife to make sure that she would be comfortable. When he finished, Anna reached out to him.
”You're a good husband,” she told him, kissing his hand. ”I'll owe you a nice dinner when I get home.”
”I can't wait,” Peppi said, caressing her face. He gave her a kiss and began to head toward the door. He turned and waved.
”I'll see you tomorrow,” he told her.
Anna smiled. ”Ciao, ”Ciao, Peppi,” she said. Then she blew him a kiss. Peppi,” she said. Then she blew him a kiss.
That night, after Peppi had gone home, Anna pa.s.sed away.