Home to Italy (6 page)

Luca and Peppi
were discussing peppers and tomatoes and the cultivation of grapes when they finally came to the house a short time later. Luca lamented his lack of time to spend taking proper care of his garden.

“The factory keeps me busy almost every day,” he complained to Peppi. “And then if I feel like riding my bike for a while—well, there just aren't enough hours to the day.”

“You just need to get up earlier in the morning,” Peppi chided him.

“You and my wife should get along very well,” said Luca with a rueful sigh.

Filomena had seen them walking their bikes by the factory and up the path to the house. She assumed that her husband was dragging home to dinner another hungry straggler from his pack of cycling cronies. The extra plate was already set on the table by the time the two walked through the door.

Besides Filomena, Luca's son, Costanzo, was there with his wife, Maria, and their two teenage children, Gianni and Vittoria. Only Luca's daughter, Lucrezia, who had gone to visit friends in Pescara, was missing. When Luca first introduced Peppi, all of them, Filomena included, gaped at the newcomer as if they could not believe their eyes.

“You
are Peppi?” said Gianni with great respect. “The bicycle racer?”

“I don't believe it,” said his sister. “All these years I thought that you were just someone Papa Luca made up in his imagination.”

“I've been gone a long time,” said Peppi with a shrug. “It all seems like a dream even to me.”

“Vittoria, Gianni, stop staring at him!” exclaimed Filomena. “Go sit down at the table. You too, Costanzo.”

“But they're right,” laughed Costanzo. “It's almost like we're meeting a ghost. My father's talked about you for so many years.”

“That's what friends are for,” said Luca happily. “Now, Peppi, let's get you some dry clothes and then we can all eat.”

The long, perfectly choreographed meal that followed surpassed even Luca's lofty predictions. When everyone finally gathered around the dinner table, Luca poured the wine while Filomena brought out for appetizers a platter of bruschetta and another of fried olives stuffed with prosciutto. Soon after came the
pasta alla chitarra,
thin strands of pasta tossed in a savory sauce of pancetta, chopped tomatoes, olive oil, and cheese.
Il secondo piatto
consisted of tripe, the lining of the cow's stomach, boiled and served in a zesty tomato sauce. There is no more powerful reminder of days past than the aroma and flavors of the food one loves. Everything Peppi had tasted to that point, every morsel, had evoked some memory of his youth, but the tripe in particular pleased him for it had been one of his mother's specialties. He made a point of telling Filomena so as she was preparing to serve the main course of roasted lamb garnished with artichokes and fennel. Along with it she had prepared broccoli rabe and fried cardoons, a hearty, thistlelike vegetable that managed to flourish even in the chilly climate of the Abruzzi mountains. All in all, the meal was a staggering performance.

After dinner, while the men contemplated their bloated midsections, Maria and Vittoria cleared the dishes while Filomena prepared the coffee and dessert. Luca settled back in his chair and gave a contented sigh.

“What did I tell you, Peppi,” he said, patting his stomach. “Is my wife the best cook in all Abruzzo or not?”

Peppi let out a contented sigh of his own, for it had been many weeks since he had eaten so robustly. He smiled and nodded in agreement as he eased back and looked up at the photographs displayed on the wall behind his friend. There were, he noticed, pictures from the early days when Luca was still racing and others from when he and Filomena first met. The wedding pictures dominated the center of the wall as did the pictures of the children and grandchildren.

Luca leaned back and looked over his shoulders at the photographs. “You're in one of those, you know,” he said.

“Which one?” said Peppi.

Luca pointed to an old photograph hanging amidst several others taken years and years ago. Peppi stood and went to get a closer look. Tears came to his eyes when he saw it. It was a picture of Peppi and Luca after a race, their arms around each other's shoulders. They were smiling from ear to ear, so young, so full of strength and vitality.

“I remember that race,” said Peppi. “It was our last one together. You won it easily.”

“That's because you let me,” replied Luca with a grin. “For once he gave me a leadout in the sprint instead of the other way around,” he said to Costanzo and Gianni.

“It was the least I could do,” said Peppi, still gazing at the photograph and the others around it. Looking at them reminded him of so many places that were once familiar to him, but about which he had since forgotten. Mostly, though, he studied the faces of the people and friends that he had known and loved so well, many of whom he knew were long gone by now. He turned from the wall and sat back down at the table.

“You have a beautiful family, Luca,” said Peppi. “You too, Costanzo.”

“Do you have children of your own?” asked Luca's son.

“No,” answered Peppi. “My wife and I always wanted them, but none ever came along. That's just the way it goes sometimes in life.” He looked at Costanzo and smiled. “So, do you work with your father?” he asked him.

“No,” Costanzo answered to his surprise.

Luca let out a low grumble of irritation. “He works in Torino,” he said ruefully. “Can you believe it? My son has a family business right here, but he decides to go work for strangers in Torino.”

“I'm an engineer!” Costanzo protested, but with a laugh. “It's what you sent me to school for. There's nothing for me to do in a candy factory. Besides, you still have Lucrezia working for you.”

“Uff,” grunted Luca, rubbing his forehead. “It's more like I work for her.” He looked at Peppi and shook his head. “I don't know what I'm going to do with these kids.”

“I wouldn't worry,” grinned Peppi. “I think you're all doing just fine.”

Filomena brought out coffee to go along with a simple cornmeal cake and a plate of fruit. Vittoria and Maria set out some fresh plates and they all sat down to have dessert with the men.

“So, Peppi, you've made my husband very happy today with your visit,” said Filomena. “And to think I almost couldn't get him out of bed on time for the ride this morning.”

“I was sure he'd be there,” said Peppi.

Luca laughed. “I wasn't.”

“It was a good ride,” said Peppi, “and a wonderful meal, Filomena. I couldn't have hoped for more on my first day here.”

“Where are you staying?” asked Maria.

“In Sulmona,” replied Peppi. “But I plan to move back into the house I grew up in. It's still in my name.”

“Where is the house?” she asked.

“A little ways outside of town,” explained Peppi. “Just down the road, if I remember correctly. It's been so long. Perhaps you've seen it. It has a little mulino attached to it.”

They all glanced at one another.

“The mulino?” said Filomena, her eyes meeting Luca's.

“Yes,” said Peppi. “You know, I'm really looking forward to seeing it again. For so long it was just a distant memory in the back of my mind, almost as if I had imagined it. I don't think I ever gave it a thought all the time I was in America. But now that I'm back here and so close to it, I'm starting to feel a little excited. Your husband promised to take me by to see it later on.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” said Luca expansively. “But first we'll finish our dessert and then watch the television a little, eh? The last stage of the Tour of the Mediterranean is on this afternoon. We should relax, it's been a long day.”

By the time they had retired to the living room, the bicycle race was nearing the finish. Peppi watched with great interest for he had never before seen live television coverage of a bicycle race. Cycling was only just beginning to catch on as a spectator sport in America. Even then the broadcasts were almost always tape-delayed segments edited to fill up a thirty-minute program. It was engrossing to see the race in its entirety, to watch all the action unfolding as it happened.

The time passed quickly and before Peppi knew it the sky had started to darken. Luca stood and stretched his arms over his head as he gazed out the window. The sun had already dropped from sight, leaving in its path a great splash of purple and orange across the tops of the mountains.

“It's getting late,” said Luca with a yawn. “Soon it will be dark. I should probably drive you back to Sulmona. I can help you get your things and you can stay here for the night.”

“Yes,” Filomena agreed. “That's a good idea. You're welcome to stay.”

“Thank you, but that's not necessary,” said Peppi. “I've imposed enough on you for the first day.”

“Nonsense,” said Filomena. “It's been a pleasure.”

“If we leave now, maybe it will still be light enough to see the mulino,” Peppi said hopefully.

“Well—we'll see,” said Luca. “But first I just wanted to make one quick stop on the way.”

With Peppi's bike secured to the roof of Luca's car, they left the house soon after. Luca drove them to the piazza and stopped outside the local bar.

“Come on,” he told Peppi, “there are some people inside I want you to meet.”

Luca led him into the bar and ordered a round of drinks for everyone. By then, word of Peppi's return had already spread around town. To his amazement, Peppi recognized several of the old, grizzled faces grinning at him as they all drank to his health to welcome him back to Villa San Giuseppe. The others were strangers to him, but they too welcomed him back as if he were a long lost relative. They stayed there till well into the night, drinking and talking and remembering, until it was time for Luca to bring Peppi back to Sulmona. By then it was too dark and late to visit the mulino, but as they stepped into his car, Luca vowed that they would ride their bicycles out to it first thing the next morning.

Peppi saw Luca
waiting for him by the fountain when he pedalled into the piazza. It was early and, like Peppi, he was bundled up to keep warm in the morning chill. He greeted Peppi with a nod and the two pedalled off together.

“Where are we going?” asked Peppi. “I know I've been gone a long time, but I still remember that the mulino is in the other direction.”

“I know,” Luca replied, “but I thought we'd go this way first so I can show you a little more of the area around the town. That will give me a chance to get a few extra kilometers in before I go to the factory.”

Peppi let his friend lead the way. As anxious as he now was to see the mulino, he was content to follow along. Luca was right, it would be a good chance for him to reacquaint himself with the area. They rolled along at a gentle pace, spinning their legs easily to work out the stiffness left over from the previous day's ride. As they passed the houses, Luca pointed out the ones in which their childhood friends had grown up.

“There's Ernesto's old house,” he said, gesturing to one home. “And there's Tomassino's,” he said, pointing out another. “You remember Tomassino. His father was the baker. They moved out years ago. Last I heard, Tomassino had married some girl from Naples, but I don't know what's become of him since.”

On they went through the outskirts of the village, waving as they passed the children awaiting the morning school bus. Before long the village was behind them and they rode off into the rolling countryside beyond. The sun shone brightly through the chilly morning air and though they pedalled along at a gentle cadence, they were soon feeling warm enough to unzip their jackets. They rode for a while without speaking, each content for the time being simply to listen to the hypnotic whirring of their gears as they turned the pedals over and over.

“I've been thinking,” Luca finally said.

“What else is there for men of our age to do?” noted Peppi.

His friend chuckled. “You have a point. But seriously, I've been thinking about the mulino.”

“What about it?” said Peppi.

“Well, it's just that the house has been abandoned for so many years. There's no electricity, no running water. How are you going to manage there?”

“I'll make do,” replied Peppi. “I don't need much.”

“Maybe so,” Luca went on, “but no matter what, you'll need some time to make the place livable. So I was thinking that perhaps you could stay with us for a while.”

“No,” said Peppi, genuinely grateful for the offer. “I couldn't impose on you and your family like that.”

“What imposition?” said Luca with a wave of his hand. “You forget that my family once lived above the factory when I was a boy. We still have a whole apartment upstairs just sitting there empty. Someone might as well use it. And it might just as well be you until you get settled.”

“We'll see,” said Peppi with a smile, “we'll see. Now take me to my mulino.”

“Sure,” said Luca softly. Then he made the sign of the cross and pedalled on ahead.

Peppi followed close behind, the anticipation within him starting to grow. So many years had passed since he left Villa San Giuseppe, but the image of his boyhood home that he had always carried in his heart and mind was as vivid as ever. He could still remember the road that led out of the village, through the valley, and up a long gentle hill. How could he not, for he had pedalled up it countless times! The mulino stood just over the crest of the hill, set back from the road where a little stream tumbled down from the mountainside. As a boy he had spent endless afternoons fishing in the stream or simply lying on its banks, gazing up at the clouds in the crystal blue Abruzzo sky. Sometimes his father would join him and the two would just sit there quietly listening to the water as it babbled past them. Those tranquil moments were some of his favorite times. When he wasn't playing by the water, Peppi loved to ride his bicycle into town to visit friends and family. He became a familiar sight, darting in and out of every street and alleyway in Villa San Giuseppe. Whenever his aunts and uncles came to visit, one of them would inevitably pat him on the head and say to his father, “Sandro, how long will it be before your son is champion of Italy!”

But not all had been fun and games for Peppi. As soon as he was old enough, he worked side-by-side with his parents in the mulino. He arose early and worked grinding the cornmeal each morning for a few hours before walking to school, dusting himself off the whole way as he went. After school he would return home to help fill the sacks and prepare them to be carted off to market the next day. It was hard, simple work that didn't make them rich, but it gave them enough to keep the family together with a roof over their heads and bread on the table. Only fools, Peppi's father often told him, wanted more than that from life.

As he had promised, Luca led him on a route that looped back through the village and out onto the road that led to the mulino. He suddenly slowed, though, and beckoned for Peppi to come up alongside.

“Are you sure you want to go out there right now?” he asked.

“Of course,” Peppi replied. “Why wait?”

Luca pursed his lips. “I was just thinking that maybe it would be better to go back to Sulmona and get your things first. Then we could do it all in one trip.”

“Don't worry, my friend,” laughed Peppi. “I've brought next to nothing with me. I could carry it all here by myself on my bike.
Andiamo!”

Luca sighed. “Whatever you say.”

Peppi could feel his heart pounding as they rode on. It was all coming back to him and soon he realized that he recognized the twists and turns of the road. So much had changed, but so much had stayed the same. Before long the road straightened and gradually began the long climb that Peppi knew would crest at the mulino. He could contain himself no longer, and with a burst of energy that he had not felt in months, he rose off the saddle and sprinted ahead of Luca.

“Wait!” Luca cried after him. “Not so fast!”

But Peppi raced on toward the top of the hill, eager to see the roof of the mulino come into view as he drew near. He pedalled and pedalled as hard as he could until he felt the road starting to level off. He was near the top of the hill, but still the roof of the mulino was nowhere in sight. He was certain he should have seen it by now. Had he been mistaken that this was the road? Was the mulino farther along than he remembered? Peppi had his answer when he coasted over the crest of the hill and came to a stop.

His heart sank.

Peppi had not been mistaken, the mulino was right there, just where he remembered it, except what was once a proud, strong building was now nothing more than a pile of rubble. Peppi laid his bike down and stood there gaping at the scene.

Luca rolled up behind him and laid his bike next to Peppi's. “I didn't have the heart to tell you, my friend,” he said sadly, patting him on the shoulder. “None of us did.”

“But what happened?” said Peppi, bewildered.

“Terremoto,”
sighed Luca, shaking his head. “An earthquake, the same one that knocked all the frescoes off the ceilings in Assisi. Around here it was next to nothing, a little rumble in the ground, barely an echo of the big one. But for some reason it hit this spot just right. Who knows, maybe the stream made the earth settle deep underneath the house. Or maybe there was a crack in the foundation. But whatever the reason, when the ground shook just that little bit, one wall fell and the rest caved in like a house of cards. Just incredible.”

Still stunned, Peppi wandered closer, trying hard to rebuild in his mind the image of the mulino out of the shattered ruins that lay before him. Try as he might, Peppi could not force his imagination to do it, for his home was now nothing but a pile of rock and splintered beams. Even the great stone wheel of the mill was toppled over and half-buried.

Peppi walked to the back and gazed out toward the stream that still flowed lazily past the site. He sat down on the dry earth and leaned back against part of the crumbled wall. Closing his eyes, he thought of his childhood and he thought of Anna. He thought about how his life had brought him full circle to this spot and how everything he once cherished had now been destroyed. Peppi wanted to cry, but there were no more tears left in him.

Luca came to his side and sat down next to him. He said nothing, for he could think of no words that would comfort his friend.

Peppi opened his eyes and gazed off into the distance. “It's all gone now,” he said, his voice heavy with the feeling of surrender. “Now what do I do?”

Luca looked off with him into the distance. “You come home with me,” he said finally. “You sleep and eat and rest, and then you figure out a way.”

“A way to do what?” said Peppi.

Luca stood and tugged on Peppi's arm. “A way to start over again,” he said. Then he pulled Peppi up and led him back to his bicycle.