Home to Italy (18 page)

Once, when Peppi was young,
he rode his bicycle in a regional cycling championship 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 mass 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 windshield. 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 passenger's side of the car.

“Save me, Peppi!” she screamed in terror.

Balancing himself atop the car, Peppi tried desperately to pull open the passenger 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 shifted 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 windshield.

The glass 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 push!”

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. Shivering 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!”

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!
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.

When news of the accident
reached Luca and Filomena shortly after it happened, they dropped everything and raced home from Alba Adriatica. Despite assurances 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.

 

To anyone who knew her well, it should have come as no surprise when Lucrezia showed up for work at her usual hour the following morning. Just the same, all the workers gaped in delighted astonishment when she strode into the factory. By the time Lucrezia had made it halfway to her office, the entire staff had gathered around her, everyone smiling and trying to talk to her at the same time. Even Enzo, who only one day earlier had been praying for a miracle to delay Lucrezia's return, had tears in his eyes. They were all overjoyed that she had emerged from her terrible accident alive and well.

Fortune indeed had smiled upon Lucrezia. Other than having been frightened out of her wits, miraculously she had only a few minor bumps and bruises to show from her tumble down the embankment. Still, she walked to her office at a distinctly slower pace than the one at which she normally tore through the factory. From the occasional wince and the weak smile she gave Enzo and the rest of the workers gathered around her, it was obvious that she was feeling more discomfort than she cared to let on.

“You should stay home and rest, Signorina Lucrezia,” one of the older women who worked in the factory gently admonished her. “We can take care of things here today. Please go home before you make yourself sick.”

“Ayyy, you sound just like my parents,” Lucrezia said with a wave of her hand.

“And she doesn't listen to us either,” said Luca who had come out of his office when he heard the commotion. He gave his daughter a look of consternation and shook his head.

“Don't worry, everybody, I'm fine,” his daughter replied, rolling her eyes for the benefit of the others. “But come on now, let's all get to work so we can finish up and start enjoying the rest of our summer!”

It was as gentle an order as Lucrezia had ever issued to her staff, but they were all delighted to obey. Just as they were returning to their posts, however, the door to the factory opened and Peppi limped inside. A round of cheers went up. Soon all the workers were mobbed around Peppi, just as they had done to Lucrezia, giving him a hero's welcome.

“I only came in to find a paper bag,” Peppi said, embarrassed by all the attention. “I want to go pick some tomatoes from my garden.”

Luca looked on and smiled. The minor delay in getting his troops back to work was a small price to pay considering the debt of gratitude he owed his friend. He gave Peppi a nod and let him enjoy the spotlight for a few moments. Lucrezia, on the other hand, turned and retreated to her office without so much as a glance at Peppi. Luca was startled by her sudden departure from the scene. Peppi, however, seemed unfazed. Although he had surely seen Lucrezia's strange behavior, Peppi gave no sign of surprise or displeasure. Once the tumult died down and everyone returned to work, he found the paper bag he was looking for and went on his way as quickly as had Lucrezia.

That was the way things went for the next few days. As was to be expected, Lucrezia still went to the office every morning, ignoring her mother's advice to stay home and rest. For his part, Peppi kept himself busy as always. Thankfully, both of them seemed to be recovering from the bumps and bruises they had sustained in the accident.

Still, there was something strange in the air, a feeling of tension and anticipation like the calm before an approaching storm. Luca could feel it. He noticed it whenever he mentioned Peppi's name to Lucrezia. She would immediately clam up or try to change the subject. Not only that, but she seemed to go out of her way to avoid Peppi altogether. Whenever they encountered one another, Lucrezia barely gave him the time of day. Luca had long ago become accustomed to his daughter's inscrutable mood swings. All the same, he was appalled that she did not demonstrate at least a little sense of gratitude to the man who had saved her life.

Luca might have chastised his daughter for her aloofness had it not been for the fact that Peppi seemed to be behaving in much the same way towards her. It was as if he was trying, without being rude, to avoid all contact with Lucrezia. If her name were to arise in conversation, he would inevitably mumble something inaudible before asking about the latest weather forecast or a recent bike race or any other subject. Luca noted the way he barely looked at Lucrezia when they passed one another as they went about their daily business. Yes, Peppi would tip his cap and say hello as pleasantly as always, but that was all. It was as if the two of them were trying to pretend that they were complete strangers. Odder still, from what Luca could see, they each seemed quite content with this odd state of affairs.

One afternoon, after the factory had finally been closed down for the month of August, Luca decided that he had had enough of the strange situation. He had been looking out the kitchen window to the courtyard. Peppi was there, puttering around the flower beds and fussing with the grapevines. Behind Peppi, Luca could see Lucrezia through her office window. She was at her desk, looking over some papers. Her window was wide open, but never once did she look outside, nor did Peppi ever glance in. They seemed to be doing their best to ignore each other.

Luca slapped his hands down on the windowsill and turned to his wife, who was sitting at the table leafing through a magazine. “Filomena,” he blurted out in exasperation, “what on earth is going on with those two?”

“Can't you guess?” his wife replied without looking up from her magazine.

“No, I can't.”

Filomena sighed and laid the magazine down on the table. “You men never notice anything. It's been as plain as the nose on your face for weeks now.”

“What has?”

Now it was Filomena's turn to be exasperated. “Your daughter and your best friend!” she exclaimed, slapping her hand on the table. “Don't you have eyes? Can't you see what's about to happen between them? She's a woman. He's a man. You do the math!”

Luca gazed at her pensively until the light of understanding suddenly flickered in his eyes. His jaw dropped and he turned back toward the window. “Are you trying to tell me that my daughter and Peppi are…that those two are falling in…do you mean to say that…what are you trying to tell me!”

Filomena broke out in a smile. She stood and hurried to her husband's side. “What I'm trying to tell you,
amore mio,”
she said, giving him a hug, “is that it's time for you and I to get out of the way and go back to Alba Adriatica. I'll explain it all while we're on the way.”

Then she kissed her husband and went to the bedroom to pack their things.