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The Sicilian :: Puzo Mario
Страница: 266 из 278An armored carblocked the mouth of the Via Bella near the Bellampo Barracks. There were two thousand men of Colonel Luca's army occupying the town of Montelepre, and they had made the townspeople their enemies by molesting the women, frightening the children, physically abusing the men not thrown into prison. And all these soldiers were here to kill her son. But he had flown to America, he would be free, and when the time was ripe, she and her husband would join him there. They would live in freedom, without fear.
She went back into the house and found herself work to do. She went to the rear balcony and looked at the mountains.
Those mountains from which Guiliano had observed this house, with his binoculars. She had always felt his presence; she did not feel it now. He was surely in America.
A loud pounding on the door froze her with terror. Slowly she went to open it. The first thing she saw was Hector Adonis, and he looked as she had never seen him look before. He was unshaven, his hair unruly, he wore no cravat. The shirt beneath his jacket was rumpled and the collar was smudged with dirt. But what she noticed most was that all dignity was gone from his face. It was crumpled with hopeless grief. His eyes were brimming with tears as he looked at her. She let out a muffled scream.
He came into the house and said, "Don't, Maria, I beg of you." A very young lieutenant of the carabinieri came in with him. Maria Lombardo looked past them into the street. There were three black cars parked in front of her house with carabinieri drivers. There was a cluster of armed men on each side of the door.
The Lieutenant was young and rosy cheeked. He took off his cap and put it under his arm. "You are Maria Lombardo Guiliano?" he asked formally. His accent was that of the north, of Tuscany.
Maria Lombardo said yes. Her voice was a croak of despair. There was no saliva in her mouth.
"I must ask you to accompany me to Castelvetrano," the officer said. "I have a car waiting. Your friend here will accompany us. If you approve, of course."
Maria Lombardo's eyes were open wide. She said in a firmer voice. "For what reason? I know nothing of Castelvetrano or anyone there."
The Lieutenant's voice was softer, hesitant. "There is a man there we wish you to identify. We believe he is your son."
"It is not my son, he never goes to Castelvetrano," Maria Lombardo said. "Is he dead?"
"Yes," the officer said.
Maria Lombardo let out a long wail and sank down to her knees. "My son never goes to Castelvetrano," she said.
She went back into the house and found herself work to do. She went to the rear balcony and looked at the mountains.
Those mountains from which Guiliano had observed this house, with his binoculars. She had always felt his presence; she did not feel it now. He was surely in America.
A loud pounding on the door froze her with terror. Slowly she went to open it. The first thing she saw was Hector Adonis, and he looked as she had never seen him look before. He was unshaven, his hair unruly, he wore no cravat. The shirt beneath his jacket was rumpled and the collar was smudged with dirt. But what she noticed most was that all dignity was gone from his face. It was crumpled with hopeless grief. His eyes were brimming with tears as he looked at her. She let out a muffled scream.
He came into the house and said, "Don't, Maria, I beg of you." A very young lieutenant of the carabinieri came in with him. Maria Lombardo looked past them into the street. There were three black cars parked in front of her house with carabinieri drivers. There was a cluster of armed men on each side of the door.
The Lieutenant was young and rosy cheeked. He took off his cap and put it under his arm. "You are Maria Lombardo Guiliano?" he asked formally. His accent was that of the north, of Tuscany.
Maria Lombardo said yes. Her voice was a croak of despair. There was no saliva in her mouth.
"I must ask you to accompany me to Castelvetrano," the officer said. "I have a car waiting. Your friend here will accompany us. If you approve, of course."
Maria Lombardo's eyes were open wide. She said in a firmer voice. "For what reason? I know nothing of Castelvetrano or anyone there."
The Lieutenant's voice was softer, hesitant. "There is a man there we wish you to identify. We believe he is your son."
"It is not my son, he never goes to Castelvetrano," Maria Lombardo said. "Is he dead?"
"Yes," the officer said.
Maria Lombardo let out a long wail and sank down to her knees. "My son never goes to Castelvetrano," she said.