by John Hersey
What Major Joppolo did with Mayor Nasta was to take him up to his office. Everyone, even little Zito who had once worked for Mayor Nasta, even D’Arpa, the weasel-like vice mayor who had once worked with him, everyone made faces of disgust when they saw Mayor Nasta, and some made obscene remarks within his hearing.
When word passed around the Palazzo that Mayor Nasta was back, many people stuck their heads in the door at the end of the Major’s office, which had once been the Mayor’s office, to have a look at him in his disheveled condition, and to laugh at him to his face.
Major Joppolo said to Zito and Giuseppe: “I want to have a talk with Mayor Nasta alone. Go and tell the people in the other offices that I do not want to be disturbed, not even by a cracking open of that door. I do not even want to be disturbed by the brushing of ears on the keyhole.”
“Yes, Mister Major,” Zito said. “No, Mister Major,” Giuseppe said.
Major Joppolo sat at the desk and said brusquely: “Sit down.”
Mayor Nasta sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk.
“Well, what is it that you wish?” Major Joppolo said. Mayor Nasta brushed his hand along the wood of the desk pathetically, and he said: “It seems strange to be sitting on the wrong side of this desk.”
Major Joppolo said: “It may seem stranger to sit on the wrong side of the bars of your municipal jail. What do you want?”
Mayor Nasta rearranged the pince-nez on his nose, but he did not look Major Joppolo in the eye as he said “I just want a chance, Mister Major.”
“You want a chancel” Major Joppolo spoke angrily. “To whom did you ever give a chance?”
“I have thought it over,” Mayor Nasta said. “I have been all alone for days. It was awful at night. I have thought it over, Mister Major. I want to help if I can.”
“How many years were you in office?” “Nine, Mister Major.”
“After nine years in office, you have thought it all over, have you? After nine years of graft and stealing and keeping these people down, you’ve thought it over, you want to help, do you?”
“You have other Fascists in office here. I saw the face of D’Arpa a minute ago. I saw Tagliavia who was my Maresciallo of Finance. I saw Gargano of the Carabinieri. If you could use these, why not Nasta, the Mayor?” “I have a new Mayor, and a better one.”
This hurt. “Who is this Mayor?”
“ Bellanca the Notary, an honest man, much more honest than the former Mayor.”
And the former Mayor said: “Yes, Bellanca is honest. But surely you have something for Nasta to do? I would accept something less than Mayor.” Nasta rubbed the wood of the desk wistfully. “There is not much left of the old Nasta,” he said. “I would accept something less than Mayor.”
Major Joppolo’s eyes grew angry. He stood up abruptly. “Oh, you would, would you? Yes, I have something for you to do. You are to report every morning to Sergeant Borth of the American Army. You will find him in the Fascio. That is all you have to do each day. But see that you do it, Nasta, or you will be put in jail.”
“You mean that Nasta has become a common probationer?”
“Oh, so Nasta is familiar with the practice of putting people on probation? That is very genteel of you, Nasta. I thought all your punishments were more ingenious than that.”
“Please be generous with me,” Nasta said. “Please give me some work to do.”
“Generous? In the name of God, Nasta, what do you expect? For the crimes you have committed against the people of Adano, you deserve to be shot outright, without a trial. You certainly never would give a fair trial, unless it brought you some kind of profit. I am being more than generous. I am putting you on probation. See that you behave, you Fascist.”
Mayor Nasta was obsequious now. “Yes, Mister Major,” he said. “What did you say was the name of the American officer to whom I must report?”
“His name is Borth, and he is not an officer. He is a sergeant. You are not worth an officer, Nasta.”
“Yes, Mister Major.”
This is how it happened that Mayor Nasta reported once every morning to Sergeant Borth at the Fascio. Because four or five people followed the Mayor everywhere he went out of curiosity and hatred, there was a small audience on hand the next morning when he reported to Sergeant Borth for the first time. The audience enjoyed what it saw and heard, for this kind of situation was meat for Sergeant Borth, who thought the whole war was a joke.
The tattered Nasta stepped into one of the M.P. offices, rearranged his pince-nez, and said: “Where will I find the Sergeant Borth?”
“I am Borth.”
“I am Nasta.”
“Oho,” roared Sergeant Borth. He stood up, rubbing his hands. “So you are the Mayor. I understand that you have come to Adano to repent your sins. Is that right, noble Mayor?”
“I was told that I was to report here each morning. I was to report, not be humiliated, Sergeant.”
“You will call me Mister Sergeant.”
Mayor Nasta snorted, from his long habit of snorting. Borth said sharply: “Listen, Nasta, I know more about you than you know about yourself. You be careful how you behave here. Now, answer my questions civilly. Is it correct that you came to Adano to repent your sins?” Mayor Nasta was white with anger, but he said: “I suppose you might say so.”
“Thank you,” Borth said with exaggerated politeness. “In that case you will repent one sin each morning when you report to Sergeant Borth. Would you like to choose your own sins, or would you like Sergeant Borth to choose them for you?”
Mayor Nasta couldn’t keep himself from snorting. “I see,” said Borth, with his over-politeness, “you would like Borth to choose. Very well, let’s see. This morning we will discuss the sin of your disgraceful running away from your post in the face of the American invasion. What is this sin called, Mayor Nasta?”
“What do you mean, what is it called?”
“You are at a loss for words? Very well, Borth will answer his own question. It is called the sin of cowardice.” Mayor Nasta snorted.
“No matter what side you were on, no matter if you were on the side of the crooks, it was a sin to run away, was it not, Mayor?”
Mayor Nasta rearranged his pince-nez with a trembling hand.
“Answer my question: did you or did you not give rifles to the Carabinieri and grenades to the Finance Guards, make them a beautiful speech about fighting to the last man, and then run to the hills?”
Mayor Nasta said with a trembling voice: “You tell me, clever Sergeant.”
Sergeant Borth shouted: “Answer me, probationer.” Mayor Nasta said quietly: “I did, Sergeant.” “Mister Sergeantl”
“I did, Mister Sergeant
“Are you sorry for this disgraceful sin, Nasta?” Mayor Nasta could hear the people snickering behind him.
He said meekly: “I am, Mister Sergeant.” Borth said: “All right, then, you may go.”
The small audience who heard this first repentance told their friends about it, so that the next morning there was a larger crowd in front of Sergeant Borth’s office when Mayor Nasta reported.
On the second morning, Sergeant Borth made Mayor Nasta repent for the sin of having had such a big house in this poor town, and for having hoarded money, which was hidden in a mattress in the house, and for being a grafter.
On the third morning, the Sergeant made him repent for being a Fascist, and for having been, as a young man, a member of the Segretaria Federale di Roma.
On the fourth morning, the Sergeant made him repent for the sin of having fought for Franco in Spain, not gallantly, to be sure, but for having fought at all.
On the fifth morning, the Sergeant made him repent for the sin of having taken cuts on the fish market, the bakeries, and the vegetable market, and for stealing twenty-five per cent of the city impost tax.
On the sixth morning, the Sergeant made him repent for the sin of offering to be a spy for the Americans if Sergeant Borth would just stop making him repen
t.
On the seventh morning, the Sergeant made him repent for having forced his will on two young girls of the town.
And so, day after day, the repentances went. And every day the crowd outside Sergeant Borth’s office in the Fascio grew, and the laughter got louder and louder.
Chapter 11
ONE morning Tomasino the fisherman called on Major Joppolo at the Palazzo. As he entered the building, and even as he walked into the Major’s office, he looked like an American sight-seer. His neck bent back on itself and his eyes wandered around in dull amazement.
Major Joppolo was pleased to see him and said cheerfully: “Good morning, Tomasino.”
But Tomasino’s face changed from curious to sullen, and he said: “I did not want to do it.”
“Do what, Tomasino?”
“Come to the place of authority, this Palazzo. I have never done it in my life. My wife made me do it “Why? What did she want?”
“She said that if you had lowered yourself to come and see me on my fish-boat, I could lower myself to go and see you in the Palazzo. She wanted me to invite you to come to our house tonight to help eat some torrone which my daughter Tina made. My wife is a difficult woman. I hate her. She thinks she is the authority in my house.”
Major Joppolo said: “Please be so good as to tell your wife that even though her husband was so reluctant in the delivery of her message, the Major would be delighted to accept.”
Tomasino said: “I am of half a mind not to tell her. I hate her.”
Major Joppolo said: “What time?”
Tomasino said grimly: “You are a man of authority. You decide what time.”
Then Major Joppolo suddenly remembered two sentences from the Notes From Joppolo to Joppolo in his Amgot notebook. He remembered: “Don’t play favorites.... Be careful about accepting invitations...” It would be best if he were not seen going to the house of Tomasino. People like the interpreter Giuseppe might misunderstand his motives. It would be a good idea to go after dark. The Major made some quick calculations: let’s see, the sun goes down about eight fifteen, it gets dark...
“How would nine o’clock be, Tomasino?”
Tomasino said sadly: “Eight, nine, ten - what difference?”
“I’ll be there at nine. What is the address?”
“It is a horrible house. Nine Via Vittorio Emanuele.” Promptly at nine o’clock Major Joppolo knocked on the door at 9 Via Vittorio Emanuele. Tomasino opened the door, but did not show the slightest pleasure at having a visitor.
“Come in,” he grumbled.
The Major stepped in and tried to shake his hand but could not find it in the dark.
“We have to climb many stairs,” Tomasino complained.
As a matter of fact, there was only one flight. At the top of it they turned into a brightly lighted hallway. Tomasino led the Major through the hallway to a narrow parlor. This parlor belied the unsociability of Tomasino, for its furniture consisted almost exclusively of chairs - a sure sign, in Adano, of frequent and numerous guests. Besides the chairs there were only a large Italian radio in one corner and a round table in the center. The room was so narrow that from the chairs on either side one could reach whatever was on the table.
Two guests had arrived before the Major, and their identity surprised him.
“Hi, Major,” said Captain Purvis, who looked as if he had been into a couple of bottles of wine, “Giuseppe told me the old fish-hound here had a couple of pretty daughters. I was getting kinda horny. Giuseppe here told me he’d fix me up. Good old Giuseppe.”
“Good night, a boss,” said Giuseppe. He was much embarrassed; he had had no idea that the Major would show up.
The Major was just as embarrassed as Giuseppe. He was thinking of those sentences from the Amgot notebook: “Don’t play favorites... Be careful about invitations…”
“Why, hello,” the Major said.
“Haven’t seen the quail yet,” Captain Purvis said. “The old lady’s out in the kitchen. She’s a honey. Taught her how to say `My God.’“
The Major sat down stiffly.
Captain Purvis said: “Say, I didn’t know you were an old hand around here, you dog. Why don’t you tell me about these good things? You old bastard, I thought you never did anything but work. Tell me, how are these chickens? Yum, I could go for a little breast of chicken right now.”
Major Joppolo said weakly: “I haven’t seen the girls, except one of them in church. This is my first time here.” Captain Purvis, who was unquestionably tipsy, said: “Hey, speaking of chickens, I heard one the other day. You remember where Hoover said once that he was going to fix it so there would be a chicken in every pot?
Well, I heard the other day that after the U.S. Army was around these Italian towns for a while there was going to be a pot on every chicken.”
The Captain roared with laughter. Giuseppe, although he had no idea what the point was, laughed politely. The Major was horrified. Tomasino sat in depressed silence, understanding nothing.
Tomasino’s wife came in from the kitchen with a platter of torrone and saved the day. She must have weighed two hundred and fifty pounds. When she put the candy down she raised her two arms, turned to the Major and shouted: “My Godl My Godl” She pronounced it as if it were spelled G-u-d, and all her fatness shook with laughing. Everyone else except Tomasino had to laugh at her.
Giuseppe jumped to his feet and introduced the Major to Tomasino’s wife. Her name was Rosa.
She said in her husky fat lady’s voice: “I am delighted to see you here, Mister Major. That wet stone” -she pointed at Tomasino - “almost refused to go and ask you. I am learning to speak English.” And she shouted again: “My Gud! My Gudl”
“No, fatso,” said Captain Purvis, “it’s Gawd, not Gud. Gawd, Gawd, Gawd.”
“Gud, Gud, Gud,” the old lady said, and heaved in ecstasy.
Captain Purvis said: “Goddamit, where are these pretty mackerel the old fish-hound is supposed to have? Say, Major, we got to make a deal here. Giuseppe here says he thinks I’d like the dark one best.”
Giuseppe put in a word for his loyalty: “I’m a save a blonde for you, boss.”
Major Joppolo really didn’t know what to say. Giuseppe said quickly to the fat Rosa, who was still laughing softly at her triumphs in English: “Where are the girls?”
The mother said: “If you think you can hurry two pretty girls trying to make themselves prettier, you’ll find them in the bedroom.”
Major Joppolo was alarmed to see Giuseppe get up and go into the bedroom. He wondered what kind of girls these were, anyhow.
But in a few moments Giuseppe came back, leading a girl by each hand. He had apparently explained the situation to the girls, because Tina went directly to Major Joppolo, shook his hand, and sat down beside him, and the dark one, Francesca, went straight to Captain Purvis, shook his hand, and sat down by him.
“Mmm,” said Captain Purvis, “not bad.” He felt secure in the certainty that the girls did not speak English. “How’d you like to go to bed, Toots?” he said. “Take it easy,” Major Joppolo said.
“You think I’m too previous?” Captain Purvis said. “Hell, why beat around the bush, Major?”
Tina said in Italian: “I heard you breathing in church last Sunday. You ought to take more exercise, Mister Major.”
Major Joppolo said: “I was late, I was very late. I got working on something, and I lost track of time. I had to run to church. It was very embarrassing.”
Tina said: “You had Father Pensovecchio worried. I could tell by the way he got mixed up in his service.’ Major Joppolo said: “Do you go to church every Sunday?”
Tina said: “Of course.”
Captain Purvis said: “Goddam you and your wop talk, Major. You’ll really make some time. All I can do is make eyes at this piece. “
Giuseppe said: “Capatain, Giuseppe’s a translate. You talk and Giuseppe’s a tell a Francesca what you say.” And so for a time Captain Purvis was engag
ed in conveying nonsense to Francesca by way of Giuseppe’s uncertain interpretation. The general idea of Captain Purvis’s remarks got across, however, for Francesca blushed more and more frequently.
In the meanwhile Major Joppolo was able to talk with Tina, interrupted only once in a while by bursts of “My Gud!” from the mother and gales of laughter all around the room, except from Tomasino, who stared moodily at the floor.
The Major said: “Do you always go to the Church of San Angelo?”
This time it was Tina who blushed. “No,” she said. “Giuseppe told me you were going to be there. I wanted to see what the American Major was like. Most Sundays I go to the Church of the Benedettini.”
Major Joppolo said: “What did you think of the American Major?”
Tina said: “He breathes very loudly, like the leaky bellows of the pipe organ at the Benedettini.”
The Major laughed.
“Have a piece of torrone,” Tina said. “I made it.”
One could not very well turn down an invitation put just that way, so the Major took a big piece. The candy was passed all around the room, and for a time all conversation stopped. Nothing could be heard except the crunching of nuts between teeth and the smacking sound of boiled sugar coming unstuck from teeth. During this time of chewing, Major Joppolo couldn’t help thinking how strange it was to build a whole evening around the eating of torrone, but that seemed to be the program.
When he dared, Major Joppolo said “Good.” Captain Purvis could afford to be more honest in English: “Christ,” he said, “what did we come to, a glue factory?”
“Another piece,” Tina said to the Major cordially.
“In a few minutes,” the Major said.
“We must have some wine,” the fat and happy Rosa said. “Go out in the kitchen, fool,” she said to Tomasino, “and get a bottle of Marsala.”
Wine on top of torrone, and probably mixed right up with it. Major Joppolo could think of nothing less tempting, but Captain Purvis, hearing the word vino, shouted: “Vino, hurray for vino.” Then he said very seriously, as if pulling himself together: “Jesus, if I have much more of this stuff, I’m going to have to lay one of these girls. If I have to stay in this town much longer, IT take on the fat one, even if she is the mother.”
