A Bell for Adano (3 page)

“No, everyone been a scared. Baker don’t a work, nobody sell a pasta, water don’t a come in a carts. That’s all, a boss.”

“How many bakers are there in town?”

But before Giuseppe could answer this question, there were two simultaneous knocks on the door, one strong, and one weak.

“I open ‘em up, a boss?” Giuseppe was at least eager. “Please, Giuseppe.”

Giuseppe hurried down the long room and opened the door. Two men almost tumbled in. Both were well dressed, and had neckties on. One of them was quite old. The other was very fat and looked forty. They hurried down the room, and each seemed anxious not to let the other get ahead of him.

The old one said in English, with a careful British accent: “My name is Cacopardo, at your service, Major. I am eighty-two. I own most of the sulphurs in this place. Here Cacopardo is sulphur and sulphur is Cacopardo. I wish to give you advices whenever you need of it.”

The fat one, who seemed annoyed with Cacopardo for speaking first, said in English: “Craxi, my name. I have a telegram.”

Major Joppolo said: “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

Cacopardo said: “Advices.”

Craxi said. “Telegram.”

Cacopardo said: “The Americans coming to Italian countryside need some advices.” The old man looked straight at Giuseppe the interpreter and added: “I wish to advise you to be careful, in Adano are many men who were illegal in America, some men too who were condemned to the electrical chair in Brooklyn of New York.”

Major Joppolo, seeing Giuseppe’s embarrassment, said: “Giuseppe, I want to speak to the priest of the town. Will you get him for me?”

Giuseppe said: “Which priest, a boss?”

Cacopardo said: “In Adano are thirteen churches, Major, and in some, like Sant’ Angelo and San Sebastiano, are two or three priests.”

Major Joppolo said: “Which church is best?” Cacopardo said: “In churches ought not to be good and bad, but Sant’ Angelo is best, because Father Pensovecchio is best of all.”

Major Joppolo said to Giuseppe: “Get him for me, will you?”

“Yes, a boss,” Giuseppe said, and left.

When he had left, Major Joppolo said to Cacopardo: “Is this Giuseppe fellow not to be trusted?”

Cacopardo bowed and said: “I mention only the electrical chair, I am not one to name the names.”

Major Joppolo spoke sharply: “You said you came to advise me. I must know about this Giuseppe. Is he to be trusted or not?”

The old man bowed again and said: “Giuseppe is a harmless one.”

The fat Craxi was growing very annoyed that Cacopardo was getting all the attention. He said: “I have a telegram. Please to deliver.”

Major Joppolo said: “This isn’t a telegraph office.

There’s a war going on. Do you think we have nothing better to do than deliver telegrams?”

Craxi was apologetic. “I am anti-Fascist. I have a telegram. You are the one who can deliver it.” And he pulled out from his pocket a piece of ruled paper, folded four ways and pinned shut with a safety pin. He handed the paper to the Major, who put it down on his desk, to the disappointment of Craxi.

The Major said: “You say you’ve come to advise me. Then tell me, what does this town need the most right now?”

This time the fat Craxi got there first: “To eat,” he said, “much to eat.”

Cacopardo said: “It needs a bell more than anything.”

Craxi said: “Foolishness, a bell. More than anything, to eat is necessary.”

Cacopardo said: “The town needs its bell back. You can always eat.”

Craxi, who had been rather slighted in the conversation anyhow, now became quite angry. “You can always eat, you Cacopardo,” he said. “You have a million lira, you sulphur. You can eat, but not all the people here can eat.” And he turned to the Major: “To eat here is most necessary, more necessary than any bell.”

Cacopardo broke into furious Italian: “Fat one, you think only of your stomach. The spirit is more important than the stomach. The bell was of our spirit. It was of our history. It was hung on the tower by Pietro of Aragona. It was designed by the sculptor Lucio de Anj of Modica.”

Craxi said in Italian: “People who are very hungry have a ringing in their ears. They have no need of bells.” Cacopardo said: “By this bell the people were warned of the invasion of Roberto King of Naples, and he was driven back.”

Craxi said: “People with malaria also have a ringing in their ears. “

Cacopardo said: “The bell warned the people when Admiral Targout brought his French and his Turks to this place in 1553 and burned many homes and churches, and all that was left in the Church of Our Mother was the little silver crucifix which you will see now in the Church of San Angelo.”

The Major said in Italian: “We have no time for this recital. I wish to know what things are pressing and must be taken care of at once.”

Craxi said: “I have spoken. Food is the first thing.” Cacopardo said: “The bell must be taken care of at once. The bell did not warn us of this invasion, or we would have been in the streets with flowers to welcome you.

Craxi said: “I needed no bell. I was on the beach to welcome the Americans. My woman was with me, the formidable Margherita, and my seven children. We were on the beach in spite of the shooting, to greet the Americans. But what did my children shout? They did not shout: `We miss the tinkling of the bell.’ They shouted: `Caramelle! Caramelle!’ They were hungry. They wanted candy. I myself, who had had enough to eat as it happens, shouted for cigarets, not for the pealing of a bell.”

Borth and the usher Zito came back. Borth said: “It’s nifty, Major. All the records are intact. They tell everything. There are lists of anti-Fascists and lists of those who were enthusiastic and the others who were lukewarm. There’s a dossier on each important person. It’s perfect. Who are these guys?”

Cacopardo said: “Cacopardo is my name, at your service, sir. Cacopardo is sulphur and sulphur is Cacopardo.”

Borth said: “I remember that name. In the records it says Cacopardo’s crazy.”

Craxi said: “That is true. He thinks that bells are more important than food.”

Borth turned on Craxi in mock anger. “And who is this?”

Craxi was apologetic again: “I am anti-Fascist. Craxi. I believe in food for the moment.”

Major Joppolo said: “They are arguing which is more important, food or restoring the bell. Since we obviously can’t do anything about the bell just now, food is our concern.”

Craxi looked very proud of himself, but Cacopardo turned to Zito and said: “We will leave this matter to the son of Rosa who was the wife of Zito. What do you say, small Zito, do you consider the food or the bell more important?”

Surprisingly Zito said: “I think the bell.”

Major Joppolo was interested by this. He leaned forward and said: “Why, Zito?”

Zito said: “Because the tone of the bell was so satisfactory.”

“No,” said Cacopardo, “it is because of the history of the bell. When the bell spoke, our fathers and their fathers far back spoke to us.”

Even Craxi was swept into this argument. “No,” he said, “it was because the bell rang the times of day. It told us when to do things, such as eating. It told us when to have the morning egg and when to have pasta and rabbit and when to drink wine in the evening.”

Zito said: “I thing it was the tone which mattered. It soothed all the people of this town. It chided those who were angry, it cheered the unhappy ones, it even laughed with those who were drunk. It was a tone for everybody.”

Giuseppe came in bringing the priest. Father Pensovecchio was grey-haired and cheerful, and as he approached the group around the Major’s desk he made a motion with his right hand which might have been interpreted either as a blessing or as a Fascist salute.

After the introductions, Major Joppolo said to the priest: “Father, we are speaking of the old bell which was taken away.”

Father Pensovecchio said: “That is the disgrace of this town. I have in my church a bell which is just as loud as the one which was taken away, though not so sweet and much younger and altogether meaningless as a bell. Any other bell would have done as well in my belfry. I wanted to send my bell. But the Monsignor would not permit it. The Monsignor is the uncle of the Mayor. He has reasons for doing the things he does -” Father Pensovecchio crossed himself, indicating that the things which the Monsignor did were somewhat ugly; “ - but in this case I believe he was wrong.”

Major Joppolo said: “Why was this bell important, then?”

The priest said: “This bell was the center of the town. All life revolved around it. The farmers in the country were wakened by it in the morning, the drivers of the carts knew when to start by it, the bakers baked by it, even we in the churches depended on that bell more than our own bells. At noon on the Sabbath, when all the bells in town rang at once, this bell rose above all the others and that was the one you listened to.”

Cacopardo, who was old enough not to have reverence for anything, said: “I think that even the Monsignor regrets the sending away of the bell, because he used to regulate his fornication by it.”

Craxi said: “I am certain too that he regulated his eating by it, as everyone else did.”

Major Joppolo said to Borth in English: “We’ll have to try to do something about getting another bell.”

Borth said: “It’s ridiculous. There are lots of things more important than this bell. Get them some food and don’t forget that alleyway.”

Major Joppolo said: “All the same, the bell is important to them.” And he said then in Italian: “Thank you for telling me about the bell. I promise you that I will do all I can to get another bell which will have some meaning as a bell and will have a good tone and its history will be that it was given to you by the Americans to take the place of the one which was taken away by the Fascists to make gun barrels.”

Cacopardo said: “You are kind.”

Craxi said: “I thank you, Mister Major, and I kiss your hand.”

Major Joppolo said: “You what?”

Cacopardo the historian said: “He meant no offense. It is an old custom here. Once the important people make us kiss their hands, and later when the actual kissing became too much of a bother, it became the habit merely to mention the kissing, as if it had been done.”

Craxi said: “I meant no offense, Mister Major. I am anti-Fascist.”

Major Joppolo said: “It appears that everyone in this town is anti-Fascist. Well, we will see about the bell. Now I wish to speak alone with the priest. Zito, you may stay. You are my usher. Giuseppe, you may stay. You are my interpreter.”

Craxi said: “Mister Major, the telegram.”

Major Joppolo said: “I will try to send it.”

Craxi mentioned the kissing again, and turned to go. When the others had gone, Major Joppolo said to Father Pensovecchio: “Father, I wish to tell you that the Americans want to bring only good to this town. As in every nation, there are some bad men in America. It is possible that some Americans who come here will do bad things. If they do, I can assure you that most of the Americans will be just as ashamed of those things as you are annoyed by them.”

Father Pensovecchio said: “I think we will understand weakness in your men just as we try to understand it in our own.”

Major Joppolo said: “Thank you. Father, I have been told that you are the best priest in Adano.”

The priest said with quite honest modesty: “I am here to do my duty.”

Major Joppolo said: “Therefore I should like to ask a favor of you. You must feel perfectly free to refuse me if you wish. I should like to ask you to say a few words before your mass tomorrow morning about the Americans. I shall leave it to you to say what you wish, if you will merely add that there are certain proclamations which the Americans have posted which ought to be read

Father Pensovecchio said: “That I can easily do.” Major Joppolo said: “I myself am a Catholic. If you will have me, I should like to attend your mass.”

The priest said: “It will be a pleasure to have you.” Major Joppolo was glad that he did not say it would be an honor.

Major Joppolo said: “I shall see you tomorrow then.” Father Pensovecchio said, just to make sure: “At the Church of Sane Angelo. It is by the Piazza of that name. At seven in the morning. Until then, son

When the priest had left, Giuseppe said in his brand of English: “You doing okay, a boss. All you got a do now is fix a food.”

“Yes,” said Major Joppolo, “food. We’ll go to the bakeries. But first, do you have a crier here?”

Giuseppe said to Zito in Italian: “What is the name of the crier? Did he run into the hills with the others?”

Zito said: “No, he is here. Mercurio Salvatore. He is here. Only, Mister Major, he does not always say exactly what you tell him to say. He will say the general meaning of what you wish, but he will change it some. Even if you write it down, he will change it some.”

Major Joppolo said: “Will you get him, please, Zito? I want to send him out to tell the people to read the proclamations. “

Zito went. Major Joppolo said to Giuseppe: “We will go to the bakeries, then we will post the proclamations.” Giuseppe said: “Okay, a boss.”

Major Joppolo looked down at his desk and saw Craxi’s telegram. He undid the safety pin and unfolded the paper and read:

“To Franklin D. Roosevelt, Capitol Building, Washington D.C. Fremente di gioia per la lbertá da molto tempo attesa the i vostri valorosi soldati anno dato alla città d’Adano stop vi prego accettare i sentimenti sinceri della mia gratitudine e riconoscenza. Antifascista Giovanni Craxi fu Pietro.”

“Giuseppe,” the Major said, “let’s see how good you are as an interpreter. Now, this is for President Roosevelt. You must make it as eloquent as you can. What does it say?”

“To Franklin D. Roosevelt and a so forth,” said Giuseppe. “Crazy with joy because of a liberty so long time awaited which your brave a soldier have a give to a town of Adano. What’s a stop?”

“That’s just the end of a sentence, Giuseppe.”

“End a sentence. I beg a you accept a sincere sentiments of my gratitude and a recognition. Signed a this Craxi. You going to deliver it, a boss?”

“Sure,” the Major said, “the President will be glad to hear.”