All Our Yesterdays (34 page)

But Anna, too, was a bit discontented and did not like the words that Cenzo Rena said to the
contadino
Giuseppe, and Cenzo Rena was conscious of the doubting and discontented faces round him and he grew sad and withdrawn, and it seemed as though he were growing older and older when he started reading with his spectacles rather low on his nose and his head buried between his shoulders. There were not men of war and men of peace, thought Anna, the war affected everybody and no one had the right to say that he did not want to take part in the war. It seemed to her that it was cowardly to talk like that. And one day she said so to Cenzo Rena and Cenzo Rena remained silent, and he rubbed his hands over his face, and when his face reappeared, it was redder than before and as it were sleepy-looking. And he said that perhaps she did not believe it but he was not so very cowardly for himself, the thing that frightened him most of all was the idea of his village of San Costanzo in flames and the people of San Costanzo being killed along the cemetery wall. It was a little village of no account, a mere flea in the whole of Italy, but he did not want to see it all in flames, as he had seen La Maschiona's godfather's mill in flames that night. But Anna was still discontented and she thought of Giustino, who was perhaps at this moment fighting in the mountains up there in the North, and she wondered if he was still alive or whether they had not shot him already, she saw Giustino's face while they were shooting him, a face with a smile like Ippolito's smile, a little crooked and sad. Anna would have liked to be with Giustino fighting there in the North, and to be shot with Giustino beside the wall of a cemetery, she knew very little of what was going on up there in the North, but it was known that a great many people were being shot by the Germans every day, and meanwhile she herself was sitting every day in the kitchen with the waiter and accepting sugar and chocolate from the waiter for the little girl. But when she looked at the waiter she felt she might be able to shoot at all the other Germans but not at the waiter, sitting there as he was in their kitchen with the little girl between his knees, with his long, quiet, solemn head between the child's hands that were busy ruffling his glossy brown hair and pulling hard at his long red ears. La Maschiona was always saying what a fine person the waiter was, he was always bringing sugar and chocolate for the little girl, and he had nothing whatever to do with those other Germans who had killed her godfather, she had told him about her godfather and he had said he was really very sorry indeed about it. La Maschiona considered that it was unnecessary for Franz and the police-sergeant and Giuseppe to run off into the cellar whenever the waiter came, the waiter had nothing whatever to do with the ones who carried people away in lorries, and even if he had known that Franz was a Jew he would not have touched him, he was a German who did not concern himself with Jews. La Maschiona always gave the waiter a great welcome when she saw him arrive, and poured him out a glass of wine—she, who was so mean about the provisions—, and she said how well brought-up the waiter was, he would drink the wine she poured out for him but he never poured out any for himself. La Maschiona now thought again that Cenzo Rena was an immensely clever man, because he had been able to make friends with the waiter with the excuse of the dog, and because he went and talked to the Germans when they were searching the houses, he went and talked and told them some kind of tall story in that clever way of his, and the Germans paid attention to him and left off their searching. La Maschiona now no longer went to sleep at her mother's each night, because she felt quite safe there in Cenzo Rena's house, and she was again very proud of Cenzo Rena when he went down into the village and she saw him conversing with the Germans, how clever he was and what stories he told them.

Franz said to Anna that one must have confidence in Cenzo Rena, because he was incapable of making mistakes or of doing things that were wrong, and the day that Cenzo Rena went to scatter nails along the road he himself would follow him, because he had no fear now and it hardly mattered to him whether he died or lived, but as long as Cenzo Rena did not go it meant that it was right not to go. And the police-sergeant was very frightened indeed as soon as he heard any talk of nails, for goodness' sake let them give up all idea of nails, what was the use of nails anyhow, a few tyres punctured and nothing more. When the moment came for shooting they would shoot, at present the moment had not yet come, he himself, the police-sergeant, would be the first to shoot as soon as the moment came. He had buried his gun at Masuri and he would go and fetch it, he would collect all the guns that there were at Masuri, at Masuri there were guns for everybody. But in the meantime they must wait for the English to advance a little, and as long as there was snow on the ground they could not advance ; and then the snow began to melt and the first green patches appeared on the ridges of the hills. And the news arrived that the English had made a great bound forward, now the artillery could be heard thundering behind the hills, the English had taken San Felice, a village a few kilometres from the town. But the police-sergeant said it was not yet the right moment to start shooting, what was the point of hurrying ? The spring rains began. And the English stopped again and for many days everything was again quiet in the rushing rain, the artillery was silent and the Germans were still there with their big red drums, in long, glossy, black waterproofs and high boots in the rain ; and then suddenly in the rain the bright, warm sun appeared and changed the mud into the usual fine, sandy dust, and the apple-trees rose up in blossom in the gardens and were beaten and despoiled by the wind, and aeroplanes started humming again in the blue sky amongst rags of clouds, and the
contadino
Giuseppe was worried to death because he did not know how his wife would manage the work in the fields all alone, he himself did not move away from Cenzo Rena's house because so many
contadini
had gone to work in the fields and then the Germans had come and loaded them into lorries and taken them away. He had sent the children to Borgoreale to some relations of his wife's. All of a sudden Cenzo Rena decided that Anna ought to leave San Costanzo with the little girl, San Costanzo was on the road and the English as they advanced would be fighting on the road. So one day Cenzo Rena took Anna and the little girl to La Maschiona's grandmother at Scoturno di Sopra.

There were two German sentries on the path leading to Scoturno, but they knew Cenzo Rena and looked for a moment into the hamper and allowed them to pass. Cenzo Rena was carrying the hamper, the hamper was very heavy and he said what a lot of useless things Anna was bringing with her, and yet she had not thought of bringing a Thermos, she was against Thermos flasks like Signora Maria. Why on earth a Thermos, said Anna, what would she do with a Thermos when the weather was so hot? She could put the child's camomile in it at night, said Cenzo Rena, she didn't surely suppose that La Maschiona's grandmother would get up at night and light the fire and make the camomile? The little girl turned round and said that she didn't like camomile.

It was the end of May and the sun was scorching as they went up the path, and the grass was shaggy and burnt; Cenzo Rena swung the hamper as he walked and plunged his feet into the burnt grass, and from high up he looked down at San Costanzo and the village square full of tanks and lorries, then San Costanzo disappeared behind the ridge of the hill. Anna stopped suddenly and asked if it was really necessary for her and the child to go to Scoturno di Sopra, Cenzo Rena told her not to ask silly questions, in a short time San Costanzo would become a field of battle and everyone who had small children was taking them away. Anna thought of long, long days in the kitchen with La Maschiona's grandmother, in the smoke that Franz had told her about.

They found La Maschiona's grandmother lighting the fire under the iron pot, but there was not the slightest wisp of smoke, said Cenzo Rena, it was very comfortable at Scoturno di Sopra and he himself would stay there with the greatest pleasure. Then why didn't he stay, asked Anna, and he said that on the contrary he had to go straight back again, because he had to be at San Costanzo to see what went on all the time. Nothing went on, said Anna, they could manage very well at San Costanzo without him. They quarrelled in low voices while they unpacked the hamper on the bed, what a lot of things Anna had brought, he was saying, she had brought a whole heap of towels, Anna was like Signora Maria. Anna started crying a little at the remembrance of Signora Maria. She sat down on La Maschiona's grandmother's big hard bed and cried, she was thinking of Signora Maria and Ippolito who were dead, and she even thought of Ippolito's dog with its tender, curly muzzle, and she thought of Concettina and Giustino, not knowing whether they were alive or dead, and she looked at Cenzo Rena and was frightened that she would never see him again, in a short time he would go back down the path to San Costanzo and then the English would come fighting all along the road and at San Costanzo goodness knows what would happen. And Cenzo Rena looked at her too and wondered if he would ever see her again, but they were unable to say anything serious to each other, they went on quarrelling about the things that Anna had brought and Cenzo Rena told her she was foolish to cry because she was bored at staying with La Maschiona's grandmother and Anna did not know how to tell him that she was not crying because of that. And Cenzo Rena left her some money and as always when he had to fork out money he complained that in a short time they would be left without any and that it was a fine problem. Then he went away in the hot afternoon and when he came in sight of San Costanzo the sun was setting, reddening the ridges of the hills. He was thinking of Anna and of how he had seen her sitting on the bed crying, and of the little girl who had run off after the sheep with La Maschiona's grandmother and had hardly said good-bye to him, toiling after the sheep with a long stick, her thin bare feet in the dust. Cenzo Rena thought of them and wondered whether this had been the last time he would see them, the war was going on and one always thought that each time was perhaps a last time.

In the meantime the waiter had arrived at the house and as soon as they heard him coming Giuseppe and the police-sergeant and Franz had run off to the cellar, they were not expecting the waiter that day because Cenzo Rena had told him he was going away. In the kitchen La Maschiona was doing some washing at the tub and the waiter sat down and La Maschiona poured him out some wine, and she went on contentedly washing and looking at the waiter as he very slowly drank the wine and rocked himself back and forth on his chair, far away beyond the hills you could hear the thunder of the artillery and the waiter said that in a short time the English would be arriving at San Costanzo and that they themselves would be going away northwards. But he no longer had any desire to fight in the war and he would have liked to stay at San Costanzo and get himself taken prisoner by the English and never fire a gun again. So then La Maschiona asked him why he didn't hide and wait for the English, and he asked her whether she had any place where she could hide him, wasn't there a cellar in the house ? Yes, there was, said La Maschiona and laughed, at the moment there were already a certain number of people hiding in the cellar, among them even a Jew. She was telling him this because she knew he was not the kind of German to worry himself about Jews. No, said the waiter, he didn't worry himself about Jews. And was the Jew, for instance, in the cellar now at the moment ? Yes, in the cellar, said La Maschiona, in the cellar with the potatoes and the apples, and if he himself wanted to hide there nobody would ever find him out. But all of a sudden she remembered that she had sworn on the Bible never to speak a word about Franz. So she went to fetch the Bible to make the waiter swear he would never tell. But when she came back with the Bible the waiter was at the door of the cellar, pushing against it with his shoulder.

Then La Maschiona started screaming. The cellar door gave way with a thud and the waiter stood at the top of the short staircase looking down by the light of his flash-lamp, the flash-lamp that he wore at his belt, throwing the light now on the pile of logs and now on the potatoes and apples and now on the police-sergeant and now on Franz. And at intervals they could see him too and the waiter's face was quiet and serious, a long horse-like face peering and sniffing, the head of a flattened-out horse in a book, thought Franz. But Giuseppe groped for his tommy-gun amongst the sacks of potatoes and loaded it, and the waiter raised his pistol and had not time to fire because Giuseppe fired first, and the waiter fell down the stairs and La Maschiona screamed.

Cenzo Rena, when he came back from Scoturno di Sopra, found the kitchen deserted with the washtub in the middle of it, and he ran to the cellar and jumped over the broken-down door, and there in the cellar were sitting the police-sergeant and Franz and Giuseppe and La Maschiona sobbing with her fingers in her hair, and only after a moment did Cenzo Rena see the waiter too, his long head dirty with blood amongst the wood-shavings and the potatoes. And Giuseppe asked him if he had done wrong to kill the waiter. No, said Cenzo Rena to him, there was a war on and it was right to shoot. But there was no time now to argue over right and wrong. Cenzo Rena said they must dig a hole in the pine wood and bury the waiter there.

The
contadino
Giuseppe and Cenzo Rena went out to dig the grave. But Giuseppe's hands were trembling violently and he could not manage to dig. And he threw down his spade and said he wanted to run away because he was afraid. But where would he escape to, Cenzo Rena asked him; and from where they were they could see, through the pine-trees, the Germans in the village square, and it was a miracle that no one should have heard the sound of shots and screams, the Germans were never still and were constantly coming and going through the pine wood, it was a miracle that no one should have passed that way on that day. But the
contadino
Giuseppe said that he wanted to run away, for instance he could try to get through the pine wood to Borgoreale where his wife's relations were. And he started running up through the pine wood and Cenzo Rena saw his tattered green hat disappearing amongst the pine-trees and he gave it a look of farewell and said to himself that perhaps he was seeing that hat for the last time.