The Boy and the Spy

by Felice Arena

  He knocks three times.

  The door swings open and Dino greets him. He’s dressed in black from head to toe – his puppeteer’s outfit.

  ‘This way,’ he says, ushering Antonio backstage. He gestures for Antonio to climb a ladder that leads up to the attic.

  ‘You’re not coming?’ asks Antonio, stepping up the first couple of rungs.

  ‘No, we have a show to do,’ Dino says.

  Antonio sees Dino’s brothers – Gino is setting up the puppets and sets, and Pino is holding the German field radio under his arm. They’re also dressed in black.

  On the other side of the curtain the rowdy audience talks as they take their seats in the theatre.

  When Antonio steps up into the attic he sees Chris, Simonetta and Lucia huddled around a small radio lodged in an old leather case. Filippo is standing on a ladder looping the long aerial from the radio onto the crossbeams in the ceiling.

  ‘Just in time, kid. We’re just waiting for the valves to warm up,’ says Chris, also dressed in a puppeteer’s outfit. He plugs headphones into the radio.

  ‘Wow! So that’s an Allied radio?’ Antonio says impressed. ‘What type is it?’

  ‘This is the Paraset – made in Britain. The Allies have been dropping them to field agents in France and Belgium, but not in Italy,’ Simonetta’s mother says proudly. ‘That’s why it took a little time, money and effort to get it down here.’

  ‘Incredible, right?’ says Simonetta. ‘We did it!’ She slaps Antonio’s shoulder.

  Antonio nods and nudges her back.

  ‘Okay, here goes,’ says Chris, placing a small square object into the face of the radio and tapping on a knob attached to a small lever.

  ‘What’s that?’ Antonio asks.

  ‘It’s the Morse key,’ says Chris. ‘I’ve just sent my call signal. The key is a switching device to send out a coded signal. And before that I put a crystal transmitter into its socket.’

  Even though he’s speaking Italian, Antonio can’t make any sense of his explanation.

  Chris taps at the knob again. ‘Nothing,’ he says. ‘Let’s try this one.’ He reaches for another transmitter.

  A few minutes later Chris makes contact – a series of on and off clicks, tones and lights come from the radio.

  ‘Yes!’ Chris taps away in response.

  ‘I’m just giving them my status . . . in code.’

  Chris grabs a pencil and prepares to write down the incoming message on a blank sheet of paper. As soon as the response starts pinging on the transmitter he starts scribbling.

  ‘They’re using a cryptologic system,’ he says, quickly drawing up a table with columns, and placing letters and numbers in boxes.

  Everyone watches intently. Antonio is impressed by Chris’s skill at decoding.

  ‘It’s a double transposition using a passage from a children’s novel as a key generator . . .’ Chris says as he continues scrawling and unscrambling letters and figures. ‘I know the book and I know the passage well. It’s a single quote that they’re using. It’s my daughter’s favourite – I’ve read it so many times to her that I’d know it by heart even if it wasn’t part of my training.’

  Chris ends his transmission and takes off his headphones.

  ‘So did you crack the code?’ asks Antonio. ‘What do we do next?’

  ‘I know that I need to get to Catania, to the “base of the elephant”. But I’m not sure what that means.’

  ‘I suspect it’s a reference to the Fontana dell’elefante – that’s a fountain with a Roman statue of an elephant in the Piazza del Duomo in Catania,’ Filippo says.

  ‘Good. For a moment I thought I had miscoded.’ Chris sighs. ‘I’ll be met by an agent there and I’ll get my next instructions. They’re trying to arrange for a rescue somewhere inland.’

  In all the excitement, Antonio suddenly realises that he will soon have to say goodbye to Chris. His stomach churns and he is hit with a wave of melancholy. Soon he will slip back into his old life. No more adventure, no more sense of hope.

  ‘We can leave in the morning for Siracusa. From there we’ll catch the train to Catania,’ says Lucia.

  ‘We?’ asks Chris. ‘You don’t think I should travel alone?’

  Filippo shakes his head. ‘Travelling with a family makes it easier to slip by unnoticed. Lucia will act as your wife and Simonetta will be your daughter.’

  ‘Hi, Papa!’ Simonetta grins at Chris.

  ‘Well, kid,’ Chris says, turning to Antonio. ‘It looks as if this is where we have to part ways . . .’

  Before Chris can finish, Dino bursts into the room and cuts him off.

  ‘The Germans are coming! Pino just overheard them on the field radio.’

  ‘Pino understands German?’ Antonio asks.

  ‘Of course, and it’s a good thing he does,’ says Dino. ‘Because they’ve detected the Allied radio and pinpointed its frequency. They’re on their way. But at least we have a warning, a heads-up before they get here.’

  ‘Way to go, kid,’ Chris says, winking at Antonio. ‘Stealing that field radio was genius.’

  Antonio grins proudly.

  ‘Get into positions!’ Dino orders.

  ‘Positions?’ says Antonio and looks to Simonetta for an explanation.

  ‘There was always a chance this might happen once Chris started sending out his call. The Germans are skilled at tracing radio transmissions,’ she says.

  She’s so cool and calm, Antonio thinks. It’s as if she’s been a spy her entire life.

  ‘Dino and his brothers staged a puppet show at the same time so we could blend in with the audience if we needed to.’

  Dino starts hurrying everyone over to the ladder.

  ‘You’re part of our family,’ she says. ‘And Chris will join the brothers as one of the puppeteers.’

  As they run down the corridor along the wings of the theatre, Antonio looks back over his shoulder at Chris. He’s still limping but Filippo has stitched his wound and rebandaged it and he looks much better.He gives Antonio a thumbs-up before he disappears with Dino in the opposite direction.

  Antonio wonders if this is the last time he’ll see the American.

  Antonio, Simonetta and her parents slip through a side door into the stalls and move into the back row. The puppet show has already started. The marionettes, medieval knights, jiggle from side to side on the stage. The puppeteers’ arms hang over the elaborately painted set, their faces hidden in the shadows above.

  Antonio wonders which one is Chris. He thinks he can guess. One of the puppets is not quite in sync with the others. The carretto siciliano – a colourful donkey-drawn cart – is struggling. The donkey marionette doesn’t look as if it’s trotting; it appears to be flying.

  Antonio tries not to laugh.

  He glances over at Simonetta and she smiles back. Even though he knows that they’re in a very dangerous situation and they’re all play-acting, he feels a strong connection, almost as if he’s a real part of their family. He tries not to think about it too much and turns his attention back to the performance.

  Two of the marionette knights break out into an animated sword fight. As the audience cheers them on, Antonio spots an object in the back of the donkey’s cart. It’s the paraset radio, but it looks just like another piece of luggage.

  Talk about hiding something right out in the open, he thinks.

  But just then the doors to the theatre burst open and a dozen German soldiers come storming in.

  la notte

  THE NIGHT

  ‘HALT! HALT!’ shout the soldiers as they march down the aisles.

  The audience starts booing and hissing.

  Someone shouts: ‘What’s going on? You’re frightening the children!’

  Two of the soldiers march up on stage. They point their guns at the puppeteers, who are still holding the marionettes, and order them to step out in front of the set.

  Antonio’s heart is racing.

  As they line
up, Chris looks cool and calm and so do Dino and his brothers.

  The audience is ordered not to move.

  ‘What’s the meaning of this?’ asks Dino.

  ‘Where is it?’ says the German soldier in charge.

  Pino shrugs. ‘Where’s what?’

  Some of the soldiers disappear backstage. It’s obvious they are searching for something. They return minutes later and shake their heads.

  The soldier signals for the others to raise their weapons and point them at the puppeteers. They cock the hammers on their guns.

  Everyone gasps. Many of the parents cover the eyes of their children.

  Antonio turns to Simonetta’s parents. ‘They’re going to kill them,’ he whispers. ‘We’ve got to do something.’

  But Simonetta’s father just shakes his head.

  ‘There’s nothing he can do without putting our lives at risk too,’ whispers Simonetta. ‘You have to stay quiet.’

  Antonio wants to holler at the top of his lungs, but he doesn’t because just then, out of nowhere, the sounds of air-raid sirens rattle the walls of the theatre. They have never been bombed before, but Mamma Nina had always said it was a possibility.

  Could it really be happening? Antonio wonders. Will his town be bombed to smithereens?

  Children scream and everyone begins scrambling out of their seats, despite the guns pointed in their direction.

  The soldiers look to the officer in charge for instructions, but he has already bolted from the stage and is running towards the exit.

  Antonio sees Chris and the puppeteers making a run for it. Everyone is rushing to get to a cellar or a cave or hide in any type of makeshift bomb shelter as fast as they can.

  They find Chris at the front of the theatre.

  ‘We dodged a bullet, but now have to dodge a bomb,’ Chris exclaims.

  ‘We have a caverna, a cellar, at our house,’ says Lucia. ‘But we have to go now or we won’t make it!’

  ‘Mamma Nina!’ Antonio says. ‘She’s too weak to get to a shelter. I need to go back and help her.’

  Antonio runs a few steps in the opposite direction, then stops.

  He turns back and runs to Chris. ‘If I . . . If I don’t see you again . . .’ Antonio stammers, not sure how to say goodbye.

  ‘Thank you, kid,’ Chris says, holding out his hand to shake. ‘I will never forget you. If you ever get to America, make sure to look me up. I know my family would love to meet you.’

  Antonio takes the American’s hand but then throws his arms around him and hugs him tightly.

  ‘Let’s GO!’ Lucia says.

  ‘Be safe,’ Simonetta calls back to Antonio.

  Antonio nods.

  Then she’s chasing after her parents and Chris.

  Antonio turns and bolts for home.

  ‘Mamma! Mamma!’ he cries, charging into her bedroom.

  She is under the bed covers. ‘Mamma! Wake up! We have to get out of here!’

  Mamma Nina groans. She seems more feeble and pale than ever.

  Antonio lightly brushes the back of his hand across his mother’s forehead. The sirens continue to howl across town.

  ‘We have to go and find cover, Mamma,’ Antonio pleas, even though he knows it’s hopeless. She is barely able to open her eyes or speak, let alone go in search of a shelter. This is the weakest he’s ever seen her. She’s not going anywhere.

  I can’t leave her on her own, he thinks. If we’re bombed, then so be it. God will have to take us together, he decides.

  He hops under the covers, curls up and wraps his arms around her.

  She murmurs, her mouth curling to a smile.

  ‘It’s all right, Mamma,’ Antonio whispers, his eyes welling with tears. ‘I’m here. I’m here with you.’

  When Antonio opens his eyes again, after an uneasy sleep, he finds himself in complete darkness.

  Outside there is total silence. No more sirens, and no bombs. This time, at least, the bombs have fallen somewhere else.

  He’s alive. But he knows that his mother is not.

  Now, hours later, Antonio feels that there are no more tears left. And he’s struck by what it means to be truly alone and overcome by a deep sorrow. He’s in shock. He is numb. He is grief-stricken.

  Antonio softly kisses Mamma Nina on the cheek, pulls the sheet over her, and with a burning ache in his heart he leaves, closing the bedroom door behind him.

  He grabs his notebook and pencil and steps out into the cool night air. He runs down to the end of his laneway, turns right and stops at Signora Lari’s house.

  He writes her a message about Mamma Nina, rips the page out of his notebook, and slides it under her door. When she wakes up in the morning he knows she will take care of what needs to be done.

  When Antonio reaches Simonetta’s house, he throws pebbles at her balcony window. He waits but there’s no answer. He throws some more until the balcony doors swing open. It’s Filippo. He gestures he’ll be down.

  When he steps out, his elderly parents are standing behind him at the door, looking worried. He asks them to go back inside. They reluctantly close the door.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Filippo whispers, standing with Antonio on the dark street.

  ‘My mother is dead,’ Antonio says bluntly.

  Filippo immediately embraces him. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he says. ‘Take comfort in knowing that she is resting in peace now . . . and no longer in pain.’

  Antonio’s bottom lip begins to quiver. He feels another wave of tears coming, but he forces himself to stop. He has to compose himself. He is there for a reason – to see the spy – and to ask him a very important question.

  ‘I need to talk to Chris,’ he says, stepping back.

  ‘They’ve gone,’ Filippo says. ‘That was a close shave at the theatre and with the threat of being bombed, it was best for them to leave as soon as possible. They’ll be in Siracusa by now. They’ll stay there and catch the first train to Catania in the morning . . .’

  Filippo stops abruptly, his gaze suddenly shifting towards the church, up to the belltower.

  A kerosene lantern is swinging, flickering in the night.

  Antonio looks up and sees, illuminated by the lantern’s glow, Father Dominic’s face glaring down at them.

  Antonio swears under his breath. As if this wasn’t already the worst night of his life.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Filippo hisses through gritted teeth, dragging Antonio inside the front door of his building and out of sight of the priest. ‘What has happened? What haven’t you told me?’

  Antonio explains everything – about the money he took to buy pastries, and about meeting Father Dominic in the square.

  Filippo shakes his head.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Antonio sighs. ‘He can’t prove it was me – he only suspects.’

  ‘Oh, he knows!’ snaps Filippo angrily. ‘And when that gangster gets here, he’ll know too. He’s not going to be concerned about proof – because he’ll just pummel the proof out of us. Now he knows I’m involved as well. You’ve put us all in grave danger by flashing that money around town.’

  ‘But . . . but . . .’ Antonio stutters. He doesn’t know what to say. Once again he feels like the boy he was before he met Chris – just a no-good worthless rota.

  ‘Right. This is what we have to do.’ Filippo’s voice cracks with panic and urgency. ‘You have to get yourself to Siracusa, quickly. Find the others before they board the train for Catania and pass this message onto my wife: Farfalla! Butterfly. She will know what it means.’

  ‘But can’t we go together? Now?’ Antonio interjects.

  ‘No, we can’t. I have to make sure my parents are safe,’ Filippo responds gruffly. ‘If I can. And once you’ve given my wife the message, you have no other choice but to make your own way to your aunt – hopefully she will have received your mother’s letter by now. Wait here . . .’

  Simonetta’s father ducks inside and returns moments later. He stuffs a wad of money
into Antonio’s hand.

  ‘You’ll need this to reach your aunt’s place,’ he adds. ‘It’s the only safe place now. You can never come back here again. Now go!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Antonio mutters again, before he turns, and runs. And runs. And runs. Until he discovers a bicycle leaning against a wall.

  It will have to do. He knows there’s no way he can reach the others in time by foot.

  He hops on the bike and starts pedalling as fast as he can. Once he turns onto the road leading out of town, he picks up his pace, crunches hard on the pedals and rides into the night towards Siracusa.

  l’elefante

  THE ELEPHANT

  It’s early morning by the time Antonio reaches Siracusa. He is exhausted. His legs are sore and numb – his back is stiff and rigid.

  He has been to Siracusa before, on a school trip to visit the Greek ruins. They had seen buildings that were three thousand years old. Signor Piccolo had told him it was once the largest and most beautiful city in the ancient world. But this time Antonio rides through the town at dawn. The grand piazzas and medieval laneways that lead to the sea are almost empty. The city is only just waking up.

  He has ridden all night, stopping to hide on the side of the road whenever a car or military jeep drove past.

  When he finally leans the bike against the railway station and steps into the entrance hall, he hurries to buy his ticket. Siracusa is a hive of activity. More trains than Antonio has ever seen . . . more platforms, more tracks. His town has only one rickety track and one old run down platform – and a very small station house that is more like an oversized ticket-booth.

  The train to Catania is steaming at the platform, pushing out grey and white smoke in huge clouds. It’s about to leave.

  Antonio walks towards it but stops when he sees two figures entering the station. To his horror, he recognises Father Dominic and the Viper.

  Antonio’s mind is spinning and his heart feels as if it’s going to beat right out of his chest. How do they know to come here? Have they got to Filippo? For a moment he’s terribly afraid, then adrenaline kicks in and Antonio picks up his pace, making sure to keep his back to the men.

  He reaches the platform just as the station¬master blows his whistle to signal that the locomotive is about to depart.