The Shoemaker's Wife(37)

Sister Ercolina began with a heavy heart. “The arrangements have been made. This Saturday, Ignazio is going to take you both down to Bergamo, in the church cart.”

“I’m allowed in Don Gregorio’s cart? I thought he’d make me walk barefoot down the mountain, hauling a giant cross like Jesus on Golgotha.”

“Ciro, I’m going to ask you to hold your tongue until I finish talking.”

“I’m sorry, Sister.” Ciro smiled.

“Eduardo, your train ticket will be waiting for you at the station. You will join four other seminarians. When you reach Rome, you will proceed with them to your new home in the seminary at Sant’Agostino. Ciro, the ticket waiting for you at the train station will take you to Venice. From there, you will sail to Le Havre, France, where you will purchase a one-way ticket to New York on the SS Chicago.”

“Have you secured me a spot as an indentured servant? I only had one lira, and I gave it to Sister Domenica, who may have already squandered it on a bottle of Cuban rum.”

“Ciro!” Sister Domenica laughed. The nuns giggled.

“No, your passage will cost one hundred lire.” The sisters gasped at Sister Ercolina’s defiance.

“Sister Anna Isabelle’s family wired us to let us know that they will meet you in Manhattan at South Port 64 after you have been processed through Ellis Island. Take this letter.” She gave it to Ciro. “And this money.” She gave Ciro the lire. “There are two extra lire for you.”

“Thank you,” Ciro said. He held the envelope and the money and looked at his brother. “You’ve all sacrificed for me, and I’m not worthy.”

“You are worthy, Ciro. But, I must ask you something in return. And I must ask you, Eduardo, and all the sisters, to hold a confidence for me. I told Don Gregorio that you were being sent to the work camp in Parma.”

The sisters gasped; they had never known Ercolina to lie.

“I prayed about it, and I must follow my conscience in this matter. I believe you to be an honorable young man, Ciro. It’s ironic that in order to take care of you, I had to lie. But the priest’s power is absolute, and a thousand years of begging him to change his mind would not have turned the result in your favor. You should never have been punished for telling the truth.”

“Thank you, Sister.” Sister Teresa was full of emotion.

“I’m asking you to forgive me, and to pray for Eduardo and Ciro as they leave us to start their new lives. And also, please pray for Don Gregorio, who needs your intercessions on his behalf.”

“You had me until you asked us to pray for the padre,” Ciro muttered.

Sister Ercolina snapped, “Ciro, you realize, had you ever met me halfway, I’d be sending you to the seminary with Eduardo.”

“Better to ship me off on a boat to America. I don’t think the Holy Roman Church and I are a match.”

“That would be my conclusion also, Ciro.” Sister Ercolina smiled.

The rectory carriage was parked outside the entrance of the convent. The sun was not yet up over Vilminore; only the farmers and the town baker were up this early. Sunrise was an hour away.

Ignazio Farino drank a cup of strong coffee and hot milk and dipped a heel of day-old bread into it in the convent kitchen while Sister Teresa prepared eggs on the stove. Ciro and Eduardo joined them in the kitchen.

“It’s the last supper, Sister,” Ciro joked.

“I didn’t know a sense of humor was awake this early.” Eduardo pulled out a work stool and sat. Ciro poured his brother a cup of coffee, and then one for himself.

“Thank you for getting up early to milk the cows,” Sister Teresa said to Ciro.

“I’m going to New York City. I don’t know when I’ll see another cow.”

“That’s a talent that you can use anywhere in the world,” Ignazio assured Ciro. “They drink a lot of milk in America, I hear.”

“I’m going to be a shoemaker, Iggy.”

“I’ve always wanted a pair of black leather boots with blue spats and gray pearl buttons. I’ll tell you what, I’ll have my wife take a pencil and draw my feet on butcher paper. I’ll send you the patterns and you can make the shoes. And you”—Ignazio turned to Eduardo—“You can pray for me and arrange some indulgences, if and when I need them.”

“You’ll always be in my prayers, Iggy,” Eduardo said.

Ignazio finished his coffee and headed outside to prepare the cart for the trip down the mountain. He had agreed to transport several boxes for the Longarettis and deliver a collection of missals to the church in Clusone.

“I’m going to go and pack up my books. Thank you, Sister.” Eduardo took his plate to the sink.

“I’ll be right there,” Ciro said to Eduardo.

Sister Teresa turned away from Ciro and cleaned the frying pan on the griddle.

“The pan is clean, Sister.”

“I can’t look at you, Ciro.”

Ciro looked away, trying not to cry. The only sound was the soft sizzle of the pot of boiling water in the fireplace. Finally, Ciro said, “You knew this day would come. I just hoped to live up the road and visit a lot. Bring my wife over and my children. Maybe stop in and be of some use to you.”

“You’re going so far away.”