A Bell for Adano

by John Hersey

  “Guzzo will know,” Cacopardo said.

  In time the bell-ringer came. He was almost as old as Cacopardo. His hands and forearms looked very strong, but the rest of him looked as if it were long overdue.

  Cacopardo called him to the center of the crowd and told him to examine the bell. The old bell-ringer walked round and round the bell, looking at it. Then he leaned over and ran the flat of his hand from top to bottom. Then he stood up and seemed to read the inscription over and over. He looked once up at the top of the clock tower, where some engineers were rigging a hoist. He asked that the bell be turned over and when some of the engineers had turned it up on its side, he looked inside.

  He stood up finally and shrugged his shoulders and said: “It is all right.”

  Cacopardo was delighted. He said to the Major: “I know old Guzzo. He does not exaggerate. When he says something is fair, he means it is perfect. The bell will be very good.”

  “I’m glad,” the Major said.

  At a few minutes past one o’clock, Major Joppolo went home to his villa to take a nap. He wanted to save up some strength for the party - but he also wanted to think a little about his speech about the bell.

  He lay down on his bed. At first his thoughts were confused, because he was excited. But gradually the thoughts began to sort themselves out, and everything came very straight to Major Joppolo.

  He would say a few words, he thought, about the removal of the old bell. Then he would tell about how the people of Adano had interested him in trying to get a new one. Then a few words about Corelli, and what he had done for Italians in the last war, and then the meaning today of the inscription on the bell, America ed Italia, America and Italy, and then perhaps something about the Americans’ Liberty Bell. After talking about it that day, the Major had been curious about the Liberty Bell, and he had written a letter back to Amgot headquarters inquiring about it, and now he would be able to explain the crack, and he would tell the people of Adano the inscription on that bell, the words from Leviticus : “Proclaim liberty throughout the land and to all the inhabitants thereof.”

  And then everything was wonderfully clear in the mind of Victor Joppolo. He knew exactly what he would say. Words came to him which were beautiful and were the truth about the new bell and its meaning for Adano, and about what he, Victor Joppolo, wanted for the people of Adano. The words were as clear as anything can be, and as true.

  At about two o’clock the courier came by motorcycle from Vicinamare. From his office Sergeant Borth saw him throw the pouch onto the sidewalk in front of the Palazzo. Mail, even official mail, was enough of an event so that Sergeant Borth got up and went across to the Palazzo and up to Major Joppolo’s office to see what there was.

  There was nothing for Sergeant Borth, but as long as Major Joppolo was out, Sergeant Borth decided to riffle through what there was.

  In time he came on a paper addressed to Major Joppolo. He read it:

  “I. You are authorized to proceed by first available transportation to A.F.H.Q., Algiers, via port of Vicinamare.

  “2. Reassignment o f station will be made by A.F.H.Q.

  “3. Reason for this order is that reference (1) did wilfully and without consultation countermand orders issued by General Marvin, 49th Division, re entry o f mule carts into town o f Adano. “

  And the order was signed by General Marvin. Sergeant Borth folded the order, put it in his pocket, and left the building. He went directly to the M.P. command post in the Fascio.

  He said to Captain Purvis: “The Major’s been relieved.”

  Captain Purvis said: “What the hell do you mean?” “Just what I said: he’s been ordered back to Algiers for reassignment.”

  “What the hell for?”

  “Insubordination. Countermanding an order by Marvin about mule carts. I guess it was after that affair of the mule the General shot outside town.”

  Captain Purvis had forgotten all about the report he had sent to Division. Now that he remembered he didn’t -havev the courage to say anything about lt. All he said was: “What a hell of a note.”

  Borth said: “I’ll say it’s a hell of a note. The Major’s just begun to accomplish things in this town.” Captain Purvis said: “Yeah, I guess he has.” A suspicion crossed his mind: this fellow Borth had a way of knowing too much. “How did you know he was ordered out?”

  Borth said: “I saw the order up in the Major’s office.”

  “Does the Major know about it, then?”

  “No, the Major’s out. I have the order in my pocket. I took it. I’m not going to tell him about it until after the party tonight.”

  The Major got back to his office at about a quarter to four. He went through the courier mail and worked for a few minutes on a report to Colonel Sartorius. Promptly at four Zito came in and said: “Will you see the officials now?”

  “Yes, Zito.”

  Now when the officials came in - old Bellanca first as usual, then the others, Gargano, Saitta, D’Arpa, Rotondo, Signora Carmelina Spinnato, and Taghavia - Major Joppolo could see by their cheerful expressions that there was to be no unpleasantness in this interview.

  Old Bellanca spoke: “We have something we wish to give the Mister Major.”

  D’Arpa could not resist saying in his high voice: “We wish to give the Mister Major a Mister Major.” The others snickered.

  Bellanca said: “Please get it, Zito.” Zito went out. First the usher came back carrying an easel. He went out again. Then he brought in Lojacono’s portrait of the Major.

  It was really good. When the Major saw it, he stood up in delight. He said: “So that is why you wanted my picture taken!”

  Gargano posed as if with one hand on a camera and the other squeezing a shutter bulb and tried to imitate the cracked voice of old Spataforo: “Young man, you are vain. All you want is to look at your face.”

  This time when all laughed, the Major laughed with them.

  Old Bellanca cleared his throat. The group were silent, as if they had been called to order. The Mayor said: “I was for so many years just a Notary here in Adano, I never made speeches, I do not intend to begin now. But these others have asked me merely to tell you, Mister Major, that this picture may not be the best picture that was ever painted, although it is very good for Lojacono, but even if it were very bad, we would still give it to you, because we wished to show you that -”

  Old Bellanca was very embarrassed. He cleared his throat again and said: “What these others asked me to tell you was that this portrait - “

  The old Mayor looked at the others in despair. Gargano stepped forward and said: “What the Mister Mayor wishes to say is that the eyes” - Gargano made those circles with his thumbs and forefingers and put them up to his own eyes - “the eyes of the portrait are honest.”

  D’Arpa said, pointing at the picture: “In the chin there is strength.”

  Gargano grabbed one of his own ears with one hand and pointed at an ear in the picture with the other: “In the ears there is alertness.”

  Saitta the street-cleaner said approvingly: “In the fix of the hair there is neatness.”

  And finally old Bellanca remembered enough of his coaching to say. “In the cheeks there is a sympathetic warmth.”

  Then Gargano said, and this time his hands stayed still by his sides, in proof of his absolute sincerity: “And you can see in the picture that that man wishes that each person in the town of Adano should be happy. That is a very big thing in a face.”

  Old Bellanca said: “Lojacono has painted a good picture. We wanted you to have it.”

  “Thank you,” Major Joppolo said. That was all he had time to say, for the officials of Adano left the room quickly. In any case, it was all the Major was able to say.

  A little before five the sergeant in charge of the Engineers working on the bell came in and said: “We run into a snag, sir.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The rod the bell’s supposed to hang by, it’s too big for this here
bell, we got to get another.”

  “Will you be able to find another?” “Sure. But it’s going to slow us up some.” “How much?”

  “It’s all according to how long it takes us to find this new rod. I don’t know how much work we got to do to put it up when we find it. It all depends.”

  “Can you finish this afternoon, do you think?”

  “Not hardly, sir. But we can have it for you easy by morning.”

  A little after seven o’clock, Gargano went out to round up the children who were shouting for caramels.

  He took Rotondo and two other carabinieri and the police truck. They drove down the Via Umberto the First, and there they found the children out in force, shouting: “Caramelle! Caramelle!” at every vehicle that passed.

  Even when the police truck passed, going down the street to turn around at the Via Favemi, the ch children shouted: “Caramellel Caramelle!”

  Their shouting at the police truck gave Gargano an idea.

  When the truck had turned around and came up the street on the side where the children were and stopped there, Gargano told the others to open the back and let down the little ladder there. And he stood up near the back of the truck and shouted: “Come little children and get your caramels!”

  At first the children were frightened by the police truck and drew back. But Gargano beckoned with both hands and shouted: “Come, children, we will have a regular picnic of caramels. First come, first served. Come with Gargano for the feast of caramels!”

  The children wavered. They looked at each other and wondered.

  Gargano made motions of putting things in his mouth. “Huge piles of caramels! Come little children to the picnic. No shouting. No scrambling. just eating! Come with Gargano.

  It was the son of an official, the clean little Saitta boy, who allowed himself to be persuaded first. He said to the children nearest him: “I am going. Gargano is a friend of my father. He will give us caramels without any work.” And he ran toward the police truck.

  “Good little boy!” Gargano shouted. “Neat little boy! Clever little boy! You will have the most caramels because you were first.”

  Now there began a general rush for the truck. As the children fought for positions at the ladder, they squealed: “Caramelle! Caramelle!”

  Then one of the children shouted: “Think of our friends who are not here tonight, they would hate to miss this.”

  Another said: “We are selfish not to call them.”

  One said: “Antonino the son of Ugo is not here. I’ll get him,” and the child ran off.

  Another said: “Wait for me. I’m going to get Romano.” Another said: “Where is the red-head Occhipinti? Wait while I get him.”

  Little Erba, who was just as stupid as his father, said: “Someone is not here who ought to be. Who is it? Who is it?”

  As the children ran off for their friends, Gargano said: “Hurry! Hurry! We haven’t much time. There is a party for grownups as well as for children tonight. Gargano hasn’t much time for the caramels. Hurry!”

  Little Erba said: “Who is the one I am thinking of? Who is the one who wears a blue suit?”

  The ones who had run off began to trickle back with their friends. All the children in the truck still squealed: “Caramelle! Cararnelle!”

  But little Erba kept muttering about the one who was left behind. just as the last of the ones who had run off came back, he shouted: “Cac, Cac, it is something, it is Cacopardol” He hurried down the ladder and said: “Wait for me! The Cacopardo who wears blue! He holds my hand! I must get him. Wait!” And little Erba ran off.

  Gargano got impatient. It was already seven twenty, and the party was scheduled to begin at seven thirty, and already couples were walking down the street toward Quattrocchi’s house.

  Little Erba ran two blocks and then realized that he had no idea where Cacopardo lived. He shouted the name, but no one answered. He looked for someone to ask, but there was no one in sight. So he started home to ask his father.

  Gargano could wait no longer. He ordered the truck to go.

  Now the children were shouting in unison. “Caramelle! Caramell!”

  The truck diove off toward the police station, where there was not a single piece of candy.

  The committee of hosts stood waiting in the entrance hall of Quattrocchi’s house. Old Bellanca was there, ex officio, and Cacopardo, the only resident of Adano who owned a swallow-tail coat and the only one who would wear one if he had it, and the fat Craxi, who appeared to have exceeded his limit of three bottles of wine for dinner, and Signora Carmelina Spinnato, representing as well as she could the fair sex, and the white-haired Lojacono, who was included because he had done such a good picture. The ones of the committee who were absent were Tomasino, out of respect for the dead fishermen, and Gargano, who was otherwise engaged.

  It was ten minutes after starting time, and the guest of honor had not arrived. Giuseppe, who had arranged the whole thing, hovered in the background, saying over and over: “The Mister Major will be here any minute now.”

  The Mister Major was at that minute calling for Tina, and Tina, in the way of all women, either was not ready or was not willing to admit that she was ready.

  Finally, at a quarter to eight, Tina came out of her room. She was dressed in a flimsy white blouse and a huge red taffeta skirt.

  Major Joppolo’s slight annoyance at being kept waiting dissolved at once. “This was worth waiting all night for,” he said.

  Tina curtsied gravely. She gathered some of her skirt on her left arm and reached with her right hand for Major Joppolo’s arm. He offered it to her and the couple left, shouting good-byes to Tomasino and Rosa, who was beady with perspiration from helping her daughters get ready.

  On their way down the Via Umberto the First the couple heard two small children crying. In the darkening evening they could just make out two little figures huddled on the curb on the other side of the street. They crossed.

  They found the ragged little son of Erba and the welldressed grandson of Cacopardo sitting with their arms around each other crying hard.

  Major Joppolo crouched down and patted the boys’ backs and asked what the matter was.

  Between sobs, little Erba managed to say: “We were too late - for the feast - of the caramels.”

  Little Cacopardo said: “Too late.” “For the what?”

  Little Erba said: “For the picnic of caramels. We - we - are the only ones - who were left behind.”

  Little Cacopardo said: “All the other children.” Major Joppolo remembered what he had told Gargano to do, and he said: “Well, never mind, we’ll take you instead to a grownup party. Come with us.”

  So the Major and Tina walked on toward Quattrocchi’s house, each holding a little child by the hand. When they entered the house, the fat Craxi, who had a little too much wine in his belly, rushed forward in amazement. “Son of Mary!” he exclaimed. “He has a family! Two fine little boys” - he patted the youngsters on the head - “and a beautiful -”

  He gulped when he saw that the “wife” was Tina. “Mister Major,” he said, “why did you not tell us?” But by this time the rest of the committee had come forward, and the confusion of their greetings overwhelmed Craxi’s confusion. Old Cacopardo took both his well-dressed little grandson and the ragged little Erba by their hands, and kept them with him all evening.

  The party started out to be a success from everyone s point of view. The people of the town were immensely happy: they had not had such a time for years. Giuseppe, the organizer, basked in constant congratulations. There was enough champagne to suit Captain Purvis and too much to ermit him to molest any pretty girls. Craxi perpetuate his happy glow. The lazy Fatta had three drinks and then went into an empty room and fell asleep. Afronti Pietro, the loud-voiced cartman, was encouraged to shout a song for the entertainment of the guests. The maidenly Laura Sofia got Captain Purvis aside after he was fairly far along and smothered him with kisses. Nicolo and his sweetheart danced
together. Sergeant Borth, who seemed to be in a terrible mood at the beginning of the party, did not move from the wine bowl, and gradually he mellowed and attached himself to the glowing Craxi.

  And Major Joppolo and Tina managed quite early in the evening to slip out onto a balcony.

  Tina said: “Are you happy?”

  Major Joppolo said: “You asked me that the last time we were on a balcony together.”

  Tina said: “I was just making conversation then.” “What are you doing now?”

  “I’m asking you: are you happy?” The light place in the night that was Tina’s face turned up toward the Major’s.

  “Of all the happy days I’ve had in Adano,” the Major said, “this has been - and still is - the nicest.”

  “Then tell me what you promised the other day you would tell me.”

  “Tell me first: have you decided what you felt about Giorgio?”

  Tina said: “No.” Major Joppolo thought he detected a coquettish note in the way she said it, but then she added: “I’ll never know now.”

  He said: “Why not?”

  She drew away a little and said in. a very small voice: “Because I know how I feel about you.”

  He went to her and without touching her said: “That was all I wanted to tell you, Tina. I know how I feel, too. I am very fond of you. I am only really happy when I am near you.”

  He wanted to kiss her, but she said: “What’s that?”

  He said: “What’s what?”

  She said: “That noise, can’t you hear it?”

  There was a murmur on the air. It had been there for some time, but the murmur of the party inside had swallowed it. Now the murmur outside seemed to be growing.

  “What do you suppose it is?” he said.

  “I’ve never heard anything like it,” she said.

  He pointed off to the left and said: “It’s over there. What’s over in that direction?”

  “Well,” she said, “there’s the Church of the Orphanage, and the house of Cacopardo, and Zapulla’s bakery, and the police station -”