Peppino

by Seth Coleman

  “Emilio, I just spent four years in a monastery and was taught about hell. If it really exists, it is not a place I would want anyone to go...not for an eternity anyway, no matter how much I hated them.”

  Emilio remained silent and continued rowing. They were already pretty far away from the beach, and no one was following, so he relaxed his pace bit. Both of them remained pretty much silent until evening, each taking their turn at the oars. Finally as the sun was setting, they were out of sight of land, which meant they had reached the shipping lane.

  During the night they polished off their bottles of wine as they watched several ships pass them in the distance. At daybreak Emilio threw the net overboard and with the first throw hauled in a near empty net, but the one blue fish was enough breakfast for the two of them. Without a knife, he ripped the fish apart the best he could and handed a piece to Peppino.

  “What, are you crazy? You think I’m going to eat this raw?”

  “Well, pardon me, your most worshipful baron,” he said, pretending to tip a hat he only wished he had at the moment. “I’ll call the help and have it filleted and cooked for you.”

  “Tell them to iron another shirt for me while they are at it,” he kidded back.

  “Ah, Peppino, my friend. Suit yourself, but it could be a while until we get picked up, and the wine is already gone.”

  “You got a point,” Peppino said unhappily as he stared at the hunk of raw fish he was holding. He closed his eyes and took a bite of the meaty part. “Where do you think we should go?”

  “I guess wherever the boat is heading, maybe Greece or North Africa.”

  “Or how about Spain, or maybe England? That would be nice to see.”

  “Wherever we are going, you might as well say good-bye to your life as a baron.”

  Peppino considered his remark quietly for a moment. “Well, that’s OK. I was kind of playing the role anyway. I don’t know if I was really cut out for all the ‘diplomacy,’ as the baroness would call it. Even Elisabetta—I really like her a lot, but she is more refined than I am. I always felt a bit lacking in the ‘social graces’ when I was around her. Maybe in some odd way this was a reprieve for me.”

  “Maybe, but it seems to me a life of an aristocrat would be a lot easier than that of a peasant.”

  “Then I’ll just have to make myself rich,” Peppino joked. “And you can help me.”

  “I’m all for that.” Emilio squinted and then stood up. “Look, in the distance heading right toward us.”

  “I see it!”

  Both of them stood and started waving the oars. As it got closer, they could make out that it was a large vessel under full sail with two masts and a giant triangular jib pulling it through gentle rollers. As it got closer, the jib dropped, and both sails came down as the ship’s movement slowed.

  “Well, most reverend baron,” he teased, “it looks like we are not getting picked up by a passenger vessel. No massage or dining in the restaurant for you tonight.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s better than being served in jail.”

  “Good point.”

  The ship came to, and soon they were being helped on board. The skipper was happy to be of service to them, and when he saw the two empty bottles of wine, he bought their story that they got drunk and passed out while netting off shore and woke up beyond the sight of land. He was also aware he was just given two more deckhands. Fortunately the crew spoke Italian and were on their way back to their home port of Naples, returning from Athens with a hold full of imported merchandise.

  They were offered some food to eat, and Peppino was given a well-used shirt to wear, and then both were put to work helping the rest of the crew with their duties. By the end of the day, their hands were raw, and they were exhausted. The bunks were all taken by the crew, so they found a place to curl up in the hold.

  “Peppino, you still awake?”

  “Barely. What’s up?”

  “The boat is heading to Naples, and it will be a good place to hide out for a while until we can get a message to Nicola.”

  “I thought the same thing. It works out pretty good,” Peppino said.

  “Better than you think; Elena lives in Naples. Nicola told me.”

  “Really, where is she living?”

  “Where do you think? Nicola made the arrangements for her.”

  “I don’t have any idea.”

  “She’s living in a convent.”

  Peppino laughed. “You’re right, I should have guessed.”

  “I am not sure where, but there can’t be too many in Naples. If we can find it, I am sure she will be glad to see us.” He then added sarcastically, “Besides, I doubt she was too happy about being left there.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know; she probably thought it wasn’t too good of a place to drum up business.”

  Angered by the remark, Peppino flipped over while making a fist and slammed his knuckles into Emilio’s arm.

  “What was that for?” Emilio rubbed his arm. “I was just kidding. You know I like her. What, are you in love with her or something?”

  “She’s been a good friend to Nicola and all of us, and to be honest, I do kind of like her.”

  “How could you? You hardly even know her!” Emilio was genuinely surprised.

  “I don’t understand it myself,” Peppino admitted. “She is just different from any girl I have ever met. I just know that if I knew her better I would like her…And I would like to get to know her better.” Then he smiled and added, “Plus it sure doesn’t hurt that she is so pretty. But even if that weren’t the case, I think we shouldn’t make fun of her. Besides, she is living in a convent now; those days are over.”

  “All right, I won’t say it again”—Emilio swung his fist around, landing it on Peppino’s arm.

  Peppino rubbed his arm. “If I wasn’t so tired, I’d beat the crap out of you.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  Both of them turned over with their backs facing each other and were asleep within minutes.

  They awoke to the sound of the skipper yelling orders to the deckhands.

  Emilio said, “Peppino, get up quick; something is going on. We should be out there helping.”

  The two scrambled up the ladder onto the deck. They were shocked to see that they were just about to tie up to a dock in a very busy port.

  “Nice of you two to join us,” yelled the skipper. “If I could have found you, I would have had you here helping an hour ago. I thought you two jumped overboard and swam to shore.”

  “Sorry. We would have been here,” Peppino said apologetically. “We just woke up.”

  The captain looked at the two. “Forget it; you two would have probably gotten in the way.”

  “We really are sorry, Captain,” Emilio said.

  “You two have any money to get back home?”

  The two looked at each other and then shook their heads.

  “I’ll tell you what. We towed your dory behind us, and it made the trip OK. It is old and well used, but you should be able to get a fair price for her. It should be enough to get you a few nights in a rooming house if you are lucky. That and you help us unload, and I will pay you enough for a meal or two. That should get you started.”

  They helped the crew off-load the pallets, and one of the crew brought around the dory and handed them the rope. True to his word, the captain reached into his pouch and, handing them some money, said, “There is plenty of work here in the port, but be careful. This is a pretty rough place if you’re not used to it. Don’t trust anyone, and keep your nose clean, and you’ll stay out of trouble. Now get going, you two. Get out of here.”

  The three shook hands. The young men were sincerely appreciative for the captain’s help and more appreciative that he had not pried any further as to why they were floating in a fishing boat in the middle of the sea when neither of them looked or sounded like fishermen.

  Both of them were impressed by their good fortune. Befo
re them was a very large square surrounded by hotels, shops, merchandise pavilions, restaurants, and hundreds of people milling about. This was a perfect place to get lost for a while.

  “By the way.” The captain stopped and turned back for a moment. “I never saw you two ‘fishermen,’” he said, emphasizing the word with a smile while tipping his hat.

  Both of them were surprised and waved back at him as they hopped off the dock, pulling the dory up and onto the sandy shore next to it.

  Emilio immediately walked up the small beach and into the busy square, adding yet another voice to the cacophony of noise. “Fishing boat for sale! Great condition, excellent price …Dory for sale!”

  Chapter 19

  As the captain predicted, they were able to get a good price, as fishing vessels, no matter the size, were at a premium in the busy seaport. The sale of the boat took only a few hours, and Emilio boasted that it was because he was such a great salesman. With the unexpected cash, they decided to splurge and eat at one of the outside restaurants on Piazza del Plebiscito, a short walk from the docks. From the table their vista included a view of Mount Vesuvius on one side and the opulent Royal Palace of Naples, built in 1600, on the other. The plaza was the largest in the city and was pulsing with life.

  “What an incredible difference one day can make. If I were home, I would be getting married just about now, and instead I am in Naples hiding out with you.”

  “I wonder how Elisabetta is doing.”

  “I know. I left her at the altar thinking that I am a murderer.”

  “It could be worse. This could have happened the day after your wedding.”

  “Funny…I am not in the mood, Emilio.”

  Emilio was quiet for a minute and then offered his thought. “Look, Peppino, I know that yesterday was the most terrible day of your life, but like you just said, it was yesterday. You can sulk over it and let it hang over you like a black cloud, or you can put it behind you and start the new life that’s facing you.”

  “Emilio, that’s rotten to say, don’t you think? A lot just happened.”

  “I know that. I was there with you; I saw all of it. But you can’t go back and redo it; it simply is what it is. You can’t change the past.”

  Peppino was visibly aggravated with his friend and yet he knew he was right. “That sounds like something Abramo or Nicola would say. How is Abramo anyway?” he said, changing the subject.

  “Great idea! I forgot about Abramo!”

  “What’s a great idea?”

  “Abramo is the great idea! Nicola told me he got married and moved to Naples. He lives here! I wonder if he knows how Elena is.”

  “Super. We’ll ask him. Let’s finish and go find him.”

  “How are we going to do that? I don’t know where he lives.”

  “Not a problem. He should be easy to find; leave it to me.” Peppino’s spirit was lifted just knowing he was going to see him. “Waiter, may we have the bill please?”

  Peppino walked to the middle of the plaza and started turning slowly in a circle, examining every person who passed within his view.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You’ll see; just wait.” A few more minutes passed, when he saw what he was looking and added, “Follow me.”

  He ran to the side of a man dressed in Jewish apparel and asked, “Excuse me, do you know where the synagogues are located here in Naples?”

  The man bowed slightly and answered. “Yes, I do, but there is only one in Napoli. It is not far; it is about four blocks from here at the intersection of Via Domenico Morelli and Via Santa Maria a Cappella Vecchia. It is in that direction.” He pointed. “You can’t miss it. It is in a six-story building with a sign on the front.”

  “Since there is only one, you may know my friend Abramo; we are looking for him.”

  “I am sorry. Abramo is a very common name; it is the name of the father of Judaism.”

  “You still might know him; he moved here within the past few years from Calabria.”

  “Oh, that Abramo; yes, I do know him. He is a good man.”

  “Do you know where he lives?”

  “Yes, I do; he is a neighbor and lives in the same ghetto I do. I am on my way home now; I will show you if you like.”

  The three men walked in the direction of the Jewish temple but stopped a few blocks short of it, in front of an old apartment building on a street crowded with rows of deteriorating five-story dwellings.

  “He lives in this one, but I do not know what apartment.”

  “Thank you.” Peppino started to walk into the building, when he heard his name being called from behind. He turned to see Abramo walking up the street with several loaves of bread sticking out of a sack.

  “My good friend, what a nice surprise to see you,” Abramo said happily as he started shaking Peppino’s hand. “Both of you…Emilio, you too! I am just coming home for dinner; you will both join me, yes?”

  “Of course we will. Peppino, don’t tell him we just ate; those loaves look good,” Emilio teased.

  Abramo laughed. “It is a simple meal of pasta, of course. Come, please, meet my wife, Ester; she is a wonderful cook. Not just a wonderful cook.” He calmed his excitement. “You know what I mean.” Abramo stopped and looked at Peppino. “You have grown up. I am truly pleased to see you. I want to hear all about your stay at the monastery. Are you coming from there now?”

  “No, from Brancaleone.”

  “Good, we will eat, and you can tell me the good tidings over dinner.”

  Peppino looked at Emilio. “Well, they are not exactly good tidings, but we will tell you everything.”

  Abramo looked at his friend and spoke through his laughter. “Peppino, you must only be out of the monastery a short while; you couldn’t possibly have gotten into trouble already, could you?”

  “Oh yes, he could,” Emilio laughed along with them. “He seems to have a knack for it.” He had met Abramo only once but had heard many stories about him from Nicola and knew he was welcomed as a brother too.

  “Then good, you have come to the right place. Let’s see how Hashem* has been working in your life.”

  For the next several hours and long after they had finished their dinner, Abramo was attentive to all that was told him. He didn’t speak much until the conversation started to die down. “I have listened carefully to all you have said, Peppino, and although I do not have any answers, it confirms that Hashem brought you to me.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Emilio.

  Abramo held up his fingers and started counting off the reasons one by one, folding each one down for emphasis: “You evidently learned well at the monastery, you accepted your birthright, and you saved Nicola. It all happened in a place that you could easily escape with the both of you knowing how to descend the wall. The horses were ‘available’ to borrow—we’ll talk about that later—”

  Peppino and Emilio laughed.

  “The old drunk was asleep, and there was a boat to borrow—we’ll talk about that later too)—”

  They laughed again.

  “You were picked up by a ship going to, of all places, Naples, and you immediately were given a way to earn money when you arrived—we will talk about that later too.”

  They continued laughing knowing that Abramo was one hundred percent serious.

  “And finally, you were dropped off by the ship only a few blocks from where I live.” He had been closing each finger as he made the list, and the last reason left him with a closed fist. “And now I am going to punch the living daylights out of you for bringing all this to my door.” He stood up laughing and then pulled Peppino out of his chair and into a warm embrace. “Peppino, sometime read the story of Jonah. Hashem brought him to the exact place he wanted him to be, just like with the two of you. Now, you two get some sleep, and we will talk about this in the morning.”

  Abramo’s wife graciously prepared a place on the living room floor for them to sleep and provided each with a blanket and a
pillow. The following morning Abramo got up early to say his prayers at the synagogue and returned by the time the boys were ready to have breakfast.

  “I will get a message to Nicola. I am sure he will be relieved to know where you are. It must be a verbal delivery, so I have no idea how long it will take. I suggest that you two get some work and find a place to live nearby. I will help you as much as I can.”

  Both of them offered their thanks.

  “I do agree that it is a good idea to visit Elena, and I know where she is. I tried to visit her once at Nicola’s request, but they would not let me see her because I am a Jew. She is at a church convent not far from here. I think Santa Chiara Church is only about fifteen or twenty blocks. You can walk it. I am sure they will allow you to see her; just tell the nuns you were a student at Saint Benedict and a friend visiting from her hometown.

  “Now, assuming all you say is true, then I don’t even think it would be a good idea for the two of you to stay here in Naples for any length of time, or even Italy, for that matter. Eventually someone you know will see you, and the polizia will come knocking on your door, and, baron or not, they will throw you in prison. I think the best thing for you to do is to move out of the country, at least for a while.”

  The two considered what he said and agreed it made sense.

  “But where would we go?” asked Emilio.

  “I don’t know,” Abramo said, trying to think of options. “Do you have any ideas as to where you might like to live, Peppino?”

  “Not really, but I have read stories about America. It seems like a lot of our people are going there. Perhaps that would be the best place.”

  “Yeah, that sounds fine to me too. Maybe I could get a job and bring my parents over to live with me in a few years,” Emilio said hopefully.

  “OK, but if that is what you decide to do, you are going to have to earn passage to New York, and it is going to be a lot more than you made from selling the dory. Now you will work toward that goal, and we will see if Hashem blesses your efforts.”

  “Abramo, I want you to know how much I appreciate your help. I sincerely do, but even after my time at the monastery, I am not sure I believe in God the way you do. I have gone back and forth on it.”