Peppino

by Seth Coleman

  The baroness approached and smiled graciously. “Good morning, child, are you enjoying this lovely view?”

  “Yes, I am, Baroness. The view is quite captivating from here.”

  “I agree. That is why I chose this place to build my home. I am happy that you appreciate it. Would you come and join me for some breakfast.”

  It was not a request, and Elisabetta joined her at the table.

  “Now then, you seem to be adjusting nicely to our life here. I know it is quite different than Rome and Florence, but you will get used to it just as I did.”

  “I am sure that I will, Baroness.”

  “Please call me Ippolita, or perhaps if you wish, in a few months you could call me Mama?” she asked with a twinge of hope in her voice.

  Elisabetta blushed a bit and said, “Perhaps.”

  “Then I am to assume that things are going well for you and Peppino?”

  “Quite well; I find him charming.”

  “I don’t know if I would go that far, Elisabetta, but then if that is the truth, it would make me happy you felt that way.”

  “I must admit that I do find him a handful at times.”

  “I think those are the exact words I have used.” The baroness smiled and then changed the subject. “Elisabetta, your uncle and I have been exchanging correspondence, and I just received a letter from him yesterday. Would you like to hear it?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Ippolita reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out an envelope with the signature wax seal of Pope Leo XIII. “My Dearest Ippolita, I am joyed to received your note with regard to my grandniece and Peppino. I think our thoughts are as one with the desire for them to wed. May I suggest the blending of the two families take place in the fall? If this is agreeable to you and the children, I will make plans to attend the ceremony myself. I have never visited Calabria and would love to see the home you have spoken so often to me about. Let me know a date, and I will ask my brother and his wife and their son and his wife to journey with me. Do you have room for all of us?” Ippolita folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. “Well, there you have it. How should I answer him?”

  “I think that would be a question best asked of Peppino.”

  “I will handle Peppino. It is your answer I wish to hear.”

  Elisabetta walked over to the railing to take another look at the view. “I am sure you and my uncle know what is best for us.”

  “Good. I am sure Peppino will be happy to wed. He has been following you around like a puppy dog. October is a beautiful month here; how about we plan a wedding for then?”

  “Sounds lovely; I will write some of my friends and ask if they will be my bridesmaids.”

  Peppino arrived at the table with a smile on his face. “Buona mattina,” he said, greeting them. “How are you two doing this morning?”

  “Very well, Peppino. I was just reading a letter I received yesterday from the pope.”

  “Really, what did he have to say?”

  “I think I will let Elisabetta share the news with you.”

  “Good. I am planning to take a ride to Palizzi today. It is a beautiful ride through the hills. You can join me, and we can talk, and you can tell me all about it.”

  “Peppino, that is an awfully long ride for a lady on horseback,” said the baroness, concerned.

  “Do you think it too much for you, Elisabetta?”

  “Not at all.”

  “There we have it then.” Peppino gave the baroness a look, challenging her for a response. “We must start soon. Antonia is packing us a lunch for the trip. Mother, would you please tell Vincenzo that I will talk with him later? We were to go hunting today, but it is too beautiful of a day to waste.”

  The baroness nodded with slight hesitancy, knowing there was very little that could interfere with a hunting trip with his brother.

  **********************

  The horses clomped their way down the rough cow path that ran along the stream in between two hills. It was still morning, and the shade created from the one hill made the stifling heat breathable.

  “So what do you think, Peppino?”

  “I think it was what we expected. The only part that makes me angry is that the baroness will get her way.”

  “And you?”

  “And I will finally get to sleep with you,” he laughed, teasing her. “We can throw out that iron chastity belt the baroness put on you when you arrived.”

  “Peppino, you are incorrigible. She did no such thing, and you know it. It has been my choice. If I had given in, our relationship would have been different. Besides, it is not from lack of attraction,” she teased temptingly.

  “Ohhh, Elisabetta, what you do to me. The boys at the monastery would be scandalized.” He gave her a smack on the butt as he trotted his horse past hers.

  “Wait up,” she said. Peppino turned as her horse came next to his. “What is the real reason we are on this excursion today? Don’t even try to tell me it is to have a nice ride with me. You would dump me on any given day to go hunting with your brother.”

  “Well, it is a nice day to take a ride with you.” Peppino gave her a smile. “But you are right. There is another reason, but I very much wanted you to come along.”

  “Why? What’s happening?”

  “Remember I told you about Emilio?”

  Elisabetta stiffened a bit. “Yes, he was the friend who you got into trouble with.”

  “You sound like the baroness now. He is the friend who helped me free Nicola when the monsignor tried to kill him. I have not seen him since I went into the monastery, and I got word last night he is in Palizzi. I want you to meet him. He is as a brother to me. If we are to wed, it shall be he who is my best man.”

  “Oh my…Peppino, I don’t know…you are asking for trouble.”

  “It will be fine, Elisabetta. Trust me; you will see.”

  By the time they reached the small cabin in the woods, Elisabetta had relaxed after hearing the stories about the two of them as boys and was looking forward to meeting Emilio. Peppino dismounted as he led his horse up the final path toward Nicola’s camp. But something seemed wrong to Peppino. It was too quiet. By now someone should have greeted him. He placed his index finger over his mouth and cautioned Elisabetta to be silent, which instantly caused her a flash of terror.

  Without warning, Peppino’s legs were pulled out from under him, and he was suddenly upside down, his feet being jettisoned toward the top of the trees. Uncharacteristically, he let out a very loud “WhoooooooooOOOOOOOOOO!” His legs were locked together in a thick rope, and he bobbed up and down in the middle of the path, between two trees, until the motion began to subside. He remained dangling with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  “Peppino, hold on. I will unhook you.”

  “Don’t bother, Elisabetta. Help will arrive momentarily.”

  From his inverted position, Peppino could make out legs coming toward him from behind a tree trunk. The upside-down figure was holding a rifle.

  “Well, there you go, you lily-livered pansy. You go and hide in a monk’s robe for four years, and then you have to be saved by a girl.”

  “Yeah, but at least I didn’t have to dress up like a girl to save your sorry butt, Emilio.”

  Memorable was the only way Elisabetta could hope to remember that moment. The two men started hugging each other, with Peppino still upside down. Then Peppino started punching Emilio in the stomach while trying to turn him upright, while Emilio was dodging his flailing arms. One of Peppino’s punches managed a direct blow to his stomach.

  “That hurt, you little pissant,” Emilio said, turning Peppino around and around and then letting him go to swirl around, and complain like a baby. “Don’t be such a turkey turd, you wimp.”

  By the time Emilio was able to cut the rope, the two were laughing so hard that the others came out of the cabin to see what was going on.

  Peppino pulled the rope aside and then walked
over to hug Emilio. Both of them were fighting off tears, when Peppino lifted his arm inviting Elisabetta to join in the embrace. As she did, Peppino said, “Emilio, meet Elisabetta. She is one of us.”

  When they walked in the cabin, Peppino was disappointed to see that Nicola was not with them. Many of the men he did not know, but all of them knew Peppino by reputation. As uncomfortable as Elisabetta was around them, she felt safe, and they all treated her with respect.

  Emilio had risen in Nicola’s band of men to be a trusted deputy, and it was obvious from the way the others acted around him that he deserved it. Peppino told the men of his meeting with Nicola at Villa Aldobrandini and how shocked he was when he showed up for dinner with Pope Leo XIII. He told the men that the pope was a good man who was on their side. Several of the men crossed themselves at the mention of his name. He told them what the pope had said about the monsignor and the bishop and that the pope actually called the monsignor a “bloated sack of grunt.” The men who had crossed themselves crossed themselves again while laughing and coughing loudly in extreme but happy disbelief. Several of them grunted but seemed to understand when told his hands were tied in getting rid of the monsignor. Peppino explained that the pope had said that the fate of the monsignor and the bishop was in God’s hands, at which every man in the room made the sign of the cross. Emilio told Peppino that the monsignor still considered them to be outlaws and that there was a price on each of their heads.

  “How inconvenient,” said Peppino.

  “Excuse me…inconvenient?” said Emilio. “Does the baron of Bologna dare to see an inconvenience in this for himself?”

  “Emilio, Elisabetta and I are to be married in October, and it is going to be a little difficult sneaking you in and out so you can be my best man.”

  “Well, now that you put it that way, I completely understand,” said Emilio, lifting a mug of ale into the air. “But it sure sounds like fun!”

  All the men laughed good-naturedly and raised their flagons into the air and then took turns touching the hand of the future baroness of Bologna.

  The ride back to Vila Bologna was a quiet one. Each was engrossed in one’s own thoughts: Peppino thinking of future exploits with his friends, and Elisabetta considering the life she was consenting to. When they arrived, Vincenzo took the horses to the stable to bed them down, and Antonia led them to the kitchen for a quick bite to eat before retiring.

  Concettina heard Peppino’s voice and came into the kitchen and immediately took her place on his lap. As was her custom, she grabbed each of his arms and pulled them tightly around her. As only a child could, she tilted her head up toward his face and asked, “Peppino, you aren’t going to get into trouble again, are you? Elisabetta, he’s not, is he?

  “Not a chance, chubby cheeks,” Peppino said as he started squeezing and tickling her until she started to shriek with laughter.

  Chapter 16

  The town of Brancaleone was bustling with excitement. The farmers had brought their finest produce to market, while the women displayed them much more creatively than usual. Colorful red, green, and orange melons were cut in various shapes. Several of the watermelon rinds had been etched with a design of praying hands, and one with the face of Jesus. Without exception every man, woman, and child was dressed in their best to welcome the pope. Workers had prepared the road into town, filling every pothole, and the women and children had strewn wildflowers every few feet from the edge of town all the way to the private trail that led to Villa Bologna.

  Never before had the townspeople been so enthralled with the visit of a dignitary. Windows were washed, and chairs lined the rooftops that were visible from the road into town. Families of those who were paralytic or suffered from palsy or other diseases made signs in hope that Pope Leo XIII would see them and say a prayer for their loved ones.

  Men who were enemies and families who did not speak to one another temporarily put aside their grievances. When they met this day, they tipped their hats to one another and made the sign of the cross.

  The best of the trattorias in town, Vecchio Portico, located at the northern entrance, flew both the Italian and Vatican flags. This was Brancaleone’s top family-run restaurant and inn and where those dignitaries who were unable to stay at Villa Bologna would be housed, compliments of the baroness, of course. Pasta fagioli, eggplant parmesan, and the tastiest of Calabrian braciole, a flat piece of veal or beef rolled around a filling and baked in stock and wine, were the specialties that would be served to their honored guests. And of course, plenty of pasta with kettle-simmered marinara sauce, crusty white bread, and tankards of red wine was the hearty fare of the peasants. This too was compliments of the baroness for three days and served from carts throughout the town to celebrate the pontiff’s stay and the most important wedding ever to have taken place in their region.

  **********************

  Pope Leo XIII’s private railroad coach arrived at the central rail station in Reggio, Calabria, to great fanfare on a morning that could not have been more perfect. Mount Etna, across the channel, was sparklingly clear in the distance. Clouds forming below the summit of the volcano gave the appearance of an angel’s halo, which made the residents look to the heavens with a special reverence and awe. Ferries going back and forth to Messina tooted their horns for more than twenty minutes when they received the signal of the arrival of the pontiff’s train.

  The papal carriage arrived the day before and was waiting for him and his entourage. The ornate Gala Berlin carriage had been originally designed for Cardinal Lucien Louis Bonaparte in 1829, cousin of Napoleon III; it bore a brass coat of arms with the Napoleonic eagle and was etched in gold leaf. The golden carriage carrying the pope sparkled in the warm Calabrian sunshine for the two-hour ride to Brancaleone. Four of the Swiss Guards led the carriage while four more followed closely behind watching the crowds. The ride was splendid as the road traveled right to the southernmost tip of Italy and then turned north to Brancaleone while hugging the pristine coastline the entire way.

  Traveling in the carriage along with the pope were his earthly brother, along with his nephew and wife, parents of Elisabetta.

  “I wish your mother could be with us,” Alfonso said to his son.

  “She is with us in spirit, Papa,” he replied, nodding to both his father and uncle while squeezing his wife’s hand.

  Cheers and applause were constant as the carriage passed groups of people straining to catch the pope’s eye, believing that even a glimpse from him would bring a blessing. In turn the pope waved, continually raising his hand in blessing to the loyal subjects of the Catholic Church. He noticed many Jewish families lining the road dressed in their usual attire, and it pleased him. “Children,” said the pope, “do you notice how many of God’s chosen are here in Calabria?”

  “Do you mean the Jews, Uncle?” Salvio said, surprised.

  “Of course I mean the Jews, Salvio. The Lord chose these people long before our Savior was born. The region of Calabria opened their hearts to them when they were forced to leave Spain centuries ago, and now they are among those who welcome us. Just their presence here blesses this land. Salvio, you must always remember that our Lord Jesus was not only a Jew but a rabbi who taught in the synagogue.”

  “Yes, most Holy Father.”

  The adulation of the crowds had reached its crescendo by the time the carriage turned off the road and onto the private path that led upward to the villa. As they passed a very stately oak tree, a less ornate carriage pulled right behind the Swiss Guard and followed them to the entrance where the entire family of the baroness was waiting. Both carriages jolted to a stop as those waiting began to applaud. The eight Swiss Guards dismounted and then surrounded the coach, standing at attention while one of them opened the carriage door. The pope was the first to exit.

  “Greetings, greetings, my friends; many greetings to each of you,” the pope said, smiling to the family that stood before him. “Ippolita, you look wonderful. And, Elisabetta.” He
opened his arms and gave her a hug. “How good to see you, child. Look who accompanied me here,” he said, gesturing to her parents and grandfather exiting the cab.

  “Mama, Papa, Grandfather!” Elisabetta said excitedly as she hugged each one. “I am so glad that you are here.”

  The baroness was in the midst of introducing the pope, when the monsignor interrupted, grabbing for the pope’s hand to kiss his ring.

  “Most Holy Father, we welcome you to our region.”

  “Thank you, Monsignor.” He nodded. “It is a surprise to see you here,” the pope said while putting his hand on the monsignor’s shoulder, guiding him aside a few steps and speaking in a lowered voice. “My secretary was to have sent you my itinerary. Did you not receive it?”

  “Why no, most Holy Father. What did it say?”

  “I sincerely apologize for the oversight; perhaps it was not sent. Today I am meeting with personal friends and family. I will be resting the remainder of the day and spending my time here at Villa Bologna. Tomorrow I will be spending time with the family in the morning and plan to address the people of Brancaleone in the town square in late afternoon. Before that I would like to meet with you for a few minutes. Perhaps you can stop by around three p.m.?”

  “Of course, Your Holiness.”

  “Good. Tomorrow there will be much preparation for the wedding the day following. I explained all this and offered my regrets that I would not be able to spend much time with you until after the marriage ceremony.”

  “But, Your Holiness, I was not invited to the wedding.”

  Understanding completely, the pope nodded and asked him to wait a moment, then walked over to the baroness and whispered something in her ear. She gave the monsignor a glance and then looked at Peppino and beckoned him to join them. Peppino knew exactly what was being discussed and joined them, warmly greeting the pope with bended knee and a kiss on his ring.