As the train clacked along the tracks and the compartment gently swayed back and forth, Peppi told them about growing up in Villa San Giuseppe and how his family had made its living from the little mulino next to the house. Before long he was talking about cycling and how much he had loved to race his bicycle when he was young.

"I used to race too," said Claudio brightly.

Peppi a.s.sessed the young man's slight build. "A climber," he guessed.

"Like a feather on the wind!" Claudio boasted. "I could pedal uphill with the best of them." Then he shook his head and shrugged. "Of course I wasn't much good going down the hills, or in the sprint for that matter."

"Cycling is an unforgiving sport," said Peppi.

"But it's the best sport," Claudio enthused.

Loredana give a little cough to let them know that they had discussed cycling long enough. Peppi nodded to show that he understood.

"Did you come from a big family?" she asked.

"No," said Peppi. "Actually, I was an only child. Now and then, when I was small, I used to ask my parents why I didn't have any brothers or sisters."

"What did they say?"

"They always told me that the house was too small," he chuckled. "If another baby came along I would have to sleep outside."

At that Loredana and Claudio laughed.

Peppi laughed as well. He could still remember riding off to bed at night on the broad shoulders of his father, Allesandro. Peppi loved to reach back and give his father's dark mustache an impish yank. His father would always pretend it hurt and let out a howl like a wolf. Without fail, Peppi's mother, Angelina, would playfully scold him for being so mean to his father. "Mario," she would say, for that was Peppi's real name, "basta! "basta! Enough! Be nice, don't hurt your poor papa, he has to work for us in the morning." Enough! Be nice, don't hurt your poor papa, he has to work for us in the morning."

The memory brought a grin to Peppi's face.

"But I had lots of cousins," he went on, "so there were always lots of people in our home. I never felt lonely, at least not until the war came and suddenly everyone began to disappear. Some of my parents' relatives went off to live in America before things got bad. Others just ran away to G.o.d knows where. Many of the men of course were taken away to become soldiers. Lots of them, like my father, never returned. It was as if he and the rest of them just vanished from our lives."

"How awful," said Loredana.

Peppi paused and shook his head. "It was a terrible war, like all wars," he said. "It seemed like everything was destroyed. After it was over and the Germans were all gone and the Allies finally went home, it was to time to rebuild our lives, but there wasn't much left for us to build on. My father was gone and then my mother became ill a few years later. After she died, my uncle arranged for me to come to America. I had relatives in Rhode Island and some out in San Francisco. My plan was to stay in Rhode Island for a while to get used to things, then move out west to California where one of my cousins had a job as a construction worker waiting for me."

"What was it like living in California?" Loredana asked. "Beautiful, I would imagine."

"Yes, I've heard it's wonderful there," Claudio agreed.

"Actually," Peppi chuckled, "I never lived in California."

"What happened?"

"Eh," shrugged Peppi, "I met my wife."

Peppi told them the story. After arriving in America, he had gone to work at his uncle's music store in Providence, intending to wait until he had earned some money before heading out to California. One day he was carrying a box full of sheet music and lesson books across the store. It was a sizable box and Peppi had to keep leaning to one side to watch where he was going. Just as he was pa.s.sing the front door a young woman walked in. She was a piano teacher and had come in to inquire about giving lessons at the store. Somehow or other the two collided and the box went toppling to the floor.

Embarra.s.sed that he had caused such a commotion in his uncle's store, Peppi dropped to his knees and quickly began to pick everything up. He was so upset with himself that he barely noticed the piano teacher who had knelt down beside him to give him a hand. It wasn't until he had finally collected everything and restored it to the box that he stood up and turned to her so that he might thank her for her help and apologize for running into her.

Peppi took one look at her and went speechless. Though dressed plainly, the young woman had dark, silky hair and the most serenely beautiful face he had ever seen. As she gazed at him with her soft, warm eyes, Peppi felt certain that he had encountered an angel.

A long, awkward silence ensued as the two regarded one another.

"Hi, my name is Anna," the young woman had finally said, extending her hand to him.

Peppi was a strong young man, but when their hands touched for the first time he had the odd sensation that he had lost all the strength in his well-muscled limbs, almost as if he were suddenly melting.

"I am Mario," he had answered in faltering English. "But everybody calls me Peppi," he added hastily.

"Why?" she said, giving him an inquisitive look. "Is there something wrong with the name Mario?"

"Why, no," said Peppi, by now completed fl.u.s.tered.

"In that case, I'll I'll call you Mario," Anna told him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye, as if she had understood right away that this would be a great annoyance to him. call you Mario," Anna told him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye, as if she had understood right away that this would be a great annoyance to him.

Peppi stopped talking for a moment and let himself enjoy the memory.

"So what happened next?" said Loredana eagerly.

"Well," he shrugged, "I took one look at her and forgot all about California."

"You got hit by the thunderbolt," laughed Claudio. Then he looked at Loredana and added, "I know how that is."

Loredana responded by rolling her eyes and looking the other way.

Peppi went on to tell them about how he and Anna were married a little over a year later. He told them about Anna's parents and brothers and sisters, and how they had all welcomed him into the family as one of their own. He told them about how Anna eventually took a job teaching music at an elementary school while he started his own landscaping business. He told them about how they scrimped and saved every nickel until they were able to buy their first and only home in Providence, a move that had caused everyone in the family great consternation even though they all lived in Cranston, just a few miles away. Peppi spoke of the many happy times he and his wife had enjoyed there, the memories flowing from him like water over the falls. Now and then he glanced at Loredana and Claudio, certain that he must have been boring them to tears, but he saw that the two were listening attentively, their faces all smiles.

"Do you have children, Signor Peppi?" Loredana asked.

"No, Signorina," Peppi said wistfully.

"Well, that just gives a husband and wife more time for each other, right?" said Claudio at seeing the sad look in Peppi's eyes.

"Yes, that is true," Peppi replied. "Still, we always wanted them, but it just never happened for us. Back then of course things weren't like they are today, with all the different tests they have. In those days the doctors couldn't tell you why someone couldn't have children. It was just one of those things and you learned to live with it. People used to tell us that we should have adopted a child, but to tell you the truth, we had so many nieces and nephews around us all the time that we just never gave the idea much thought. Besides, it's better to just accept things the way G.o.d gives you them and then get on with your life."

Loredana and Claudio nodded in agreement as Peppi continued to recount some favorite memories of his marriage, but their smiles soon faded away and their eyes started to well up when Peppi eventually told them about the day Anna became sick. Without warning, she collapsed at home one afternoon. It wasn't until later at the hospital that Peppi learned that she had suffered some sort of stroke. For a week, while she was recuperating in the hospital, Anna had been unable to speak. It was an agonizing time for both of them. Gradually, though, as the days pa.s.sed, she regained her voice and the movement she had lost on her right side showed signs of returning. Peppi had been sick with worry for her the whole time, but he was encouraged by the progress she was making. It seemed as though everything was going to be all right.

One night at the hospital when visiting hours were nearly over, Peppi tucked the blankets in around his wife to make sure that she would be comfortable. When he finished, Anna reached out to him.

"You're a good husband," she told him, kissing his hand. "I'll owe you a nice dinner when I get home."

"I can't wait," Peppi said, caressing her face. He gave her a kiss and began to head toward the door. He turned and waved.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he told her.

Anna smiled. "Ciao, "Ciao, Peppi," she said. Then she blew him a kiss. Peppi," she said. Then she blew him a kiss.

That night, after Peppi had gone home, Anna pa.s.sed away.

Now, sitting on the train with the mountains looming all about them, Peppi still wondered about that final night. "I don't know why she called me Peppi," he said. "She never did that. But whatever the reason, G.o.d decided to take her that night." He paused and looked down at his hands. "After that, the light went out of the world for me and I knew it was time for me to finally come back home to Italy."

He looked back up at the two young people and shrugged. "So that's all there is to tell, I guess," he said. "I left for America all alone and now I'm coming home all alone."

By this time, Loredana and Claudio were both in tears.

"Dio mio," sniffled Loredana, "how sad-but how beautiful too." sniffled Loredana, "how sad-but how beautiful too."

"What a life you've had," Claudio added, wiping his eyes on the cuff of his sleeve.

"Eh, not so different from anyone else's life," said Peppi, "not so different at all." He gazed out the window and spoke no more for a very long time.

When the train finally pulled into Sulmona, Loredana and Claudio hurried to help Peppi with his luggage. It was late afternoon and a chilly wind greeted them when they all stepped out onto the station platform. Peppi had pulled on a heavy sweater and jacket just before they arrived, but Loredana and Claudio had left theirs on the train. They stood there shivering, unsure of how to say farewell.

"There's no one here to meet you," observed Loredana.

"No one knows I'm coming," Peppi replied.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" said Claudio. "Do you need help finding a place to stay for the night?"

"I could come with you and help you find a hotel," offered Loredana. "There's another train for Pescara later on."

"I'm going to Pescara too," said Claudio. To his disappointment, Loredana gave no discernible response at learning of the happy coincidence. going to Pescara too," said Claudio. To his disappointment, Loredana gave no discernible response at learning of the happy coincidence.

"I'll be fine," Peppi a.s.sured them. "Thank you for offering. Now please, hurry back to your seats on the train before you both catch cold."

Loredana opened her purse and pulled out a small card. "Here," she said, pressing it into Peppi's hand, "my address in Pescara is on this. If you ever get lonely, call and you can come stay with my family for a while."

"Yes, that's a good idea," said Claudio, quickly producing a business card of his own. "Please, Signor Peppi, call me anytime. Let me know how you're doing."

"I'll tell you what," said Peppi. "Claudio, you give Loredana one of your cards, and Loredana, you give Claudio one of yours. This way if I ever contact one of you, you'll be able to let the other one know. How does that sound?"

"I think it's a great idea," said Claudio, holding up another business card. Loredana eyed him slyly before taking it.

"I'll call call you," you," she said, not bothering to offer her own card in return. she said, not bothering to offer her own card in return. "If "If I ever need to." I ever need to."

Claudio sighed. "Well, at least that's a start."

Just then the conductor blew his whistle, calling for everyone to get on board. Loredana rushed to Peppi and gave him a hug and a kiss on each cheek.

"Buona fortuna, Signor Peppi," she said before pulling away. she said before pulling away.

Claudio took her hand and helped her up onto the train. The two hurried to their compartment and lowered the window as the train began to pull away from the station.

"Ciao, Signor Peppi!" they called. they called. "Arriverderci!" "Arriverderci!"

"Arriverderci!" Peppi called back as he waved them out of sight. Alone once more, he collected his bags and headed out of the station to find a room for the night. Peppi called back as he waved them out of sight. Alone once more, he collected his bags and headed out of the station to find a room for the night.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Luca groaned when he heard the c.o.c.k crowing out in the yard. He had been up late the night before and the bird's shrill cry pierced through his skull like the bit of an electric drill. He rolled over and tried to pull the covers up over his shoulders, but Filomena had already s.n.a.t.c.hed them from him. To all appearances his wife was sound asleep, but when he tried to wrest a larger section of blanket from her grasp she held on with such tenacity that he was afraid the blanket might rip in two. when he heard the c.o.c.k crowing out in the yard. He had been up late the night before and the bird's shrill cry pierced through his skull like the bit of an electric drill. He rolled over and tried to pull the covers up over his shoulders, but Filomena had already s.n.a.t.c.hed them from him. To all appearances his wife was sound asleep, but when he tried to wrest a larger section of blanket from her grasp she held on with such tenacity that he was afraid the blanket might rip in two.

"Get out of bed, old man," she warned him. "It's Sunday morning. Leave me alone and go for your ride."

"I don't want to ride," moaned Luca. "The train to Milano is running through the middle of my head. I think I'm dying."

"That's what you get for drinking so much wine," she snipped. "You'd think that a man your age would know better by now."

"And one would think that you would have more compa.s.sion for your husband," he griped. The c.o.c.k crowed again and Luca grimaced. He buried his face in the pillow to escape the agony. "If that animal makes another noise," he vowed, "I swear that we'll be having him for Sunday dinner this afternoon."

"Don't blame the bird for your foolishness," said Filomena, consolidating her grasp on the blanket. "Now go and let me sleep. Hurry, or they'll leave without you."

With another groan, Luca rolled over and let his legs drop off the edge of the bed. He sat up and set his feet on the floor. For a long time he simply sat there, holding his head in his hands. At last, though, he mustered the energy to stand. He trudged over to the dresser, pulled open a drawer, and began to dress.

When he had finished putting on his cycling shorts and jersey, Luca paused to a.s.sess himself in the mirror. If one ignored the wrinkled face and the thin crop of silver hair on his head, it would be easy to mistake him for a much younger man, he told himself. Yes, his stomach had taken on slightly more girth since the beginning of winter, but he still stood tall and straight, his shoulders and arms as strong as ever. But most gratifying to Luca were his legs. Even now they were just as lean and sinewy as when he raced his bicycle back in the old days. He liked the hard contours of his thighs and bulging calves. His were powerful legs, power built by untold thousands of kilometers of pedalling a bike, day after day, year after year. Luca loved his family and friends, his town and country; he loved his work, but it was cycling that kept him alive. It was as essential to him as breathing.

"You look wonderful," Filomena chided him from beneath the bed covers. "Now stop admiring yourself and finish dressing before you miss the group."

"My head hurts too much to be admiring myself," he replied. "But thanks for noticing me."

"Don't mention it."

Luca went downstairs and into the kitchen. It was chilly there. Even with his socks on he could feel the cold of the marble floor against the soles of his feet. He made coffee and sat down at the table to drink a cup while he nibbled on some biscotti. It was important to have at least a little something in his stomach, else he would never make it through the whole ride. Little by little, as he sipped his coffee and ate his biscotti, the banging in his head began to fade away. Before long he was feeling reinvigorated enough to entertain the thought of pedalling hard again. Luca took a last sip from his cup before leaving the kitchen to put on his bicycle shoes.

It was a brisk morning, but the Abruzzo sun shone warmly on Luca as he pedalled away from the house. He zipped up his jacket as he coasted down the drive past the modest two-story building that stood near the road at the end of the property. The building housed the factory in which his company made confetti, the delicious hard-sh.e.l.led candy that was sold all over Italy. The company, a family business started generations ago, had been handed down to Luca when his father pa.s.sed away. The business had given Luca everything he had: the clothes he wore, the roof over his head, the food on his table. Most important of all, it gave him the money to buy a new bicycle whenever he wanted, as well as the time to ride it. He was eternally grateful for that, and as he always did whenever he pa.s.sed by the factory's front door, he made the sign of the cross and blew a kiss up to heaven as a gesture of thanks for his good fortune.

The group was a.s.sembled by the fountain when he finally rode onto the piazza. Years ago when he was young, Luca would have been the first one there, waiting for all the others instead of the other way around. But Luca had long ago relinquished his role as leader of the group. Still, he was greatly respected by all for the racing exploits of his youth. As always, he was greeted warmly by the younger riders when he rolled up alongside them. He soon joined in the idle chatter while they waited for the rest of the stragglers to appear before they headed off out of the village.

The first murmurings of "Andiamo!" "Andiamo!" were being made when someone recommended that they wait for one last rider that could be seen approaching from far down the road. Luca turned and gazed off into the distance to guess who it might be. Whoever it was, he was pedalling hard to get there on time. They decided to wait. Before long the rider had pedalled up the steep little hill that led into the piazza and up to the fountain where all the others immediately began to click their shoes onto their pedals. were being made when someone recommended that they wait for one last rider that could be seen approaching from far down the road. Luca turned and gazed off into the distance to guess who it might be. Whoever it was, he was pedalling hard to get there on time. They decided to wait. Before long the rider had pedalled up the steep little hill that led into the piazza and up to the fountain where all the others immediately began to click their shoes onto their pedals.

Luca, however, paused and gazed through his dark sungla.s.ses at the newcomer. He was an older rider, he saw, perhaps as old as himself, but he looked fit and trim. The jersey he wore was unfamiliar to Luca, but there was something vaguely familiar about the way the rider had climbed up the little hill before the piazza, something about his posture as he rolled up to the group.

For his part, the new rider sat on his bike, returning Luca's gaze, the side of his mouth curled up in the slightest hint of a smile. It was then that it dawned on Luca and he returned the half smile.

"Buon giorno, Peppi," he said nonchalantly. Peppi," he said nonchalantly.

"Buon giorno, Luca," Peppi replied. Luca," Peppi replied.

"You know, I'm going to make you suffer today."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Then they pedalled off together to catch up to the group.