From Sand and Ash(64)

The money her father had set aside to aid the refugees was gone, used up by the unending, overwhelming need of so many. It had been gone for a while, and the money in an account in the United States was difficult for Angelo to access. She would return to the closet every time Angelo and Monsignor O’Flaherty needed money for their refugees. The gold would go a long way. Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah.





15 December, 1943


Confession: I am an unrepentant thief.



I found gold at the Via Tasso, gold that had been extorted from Rome’s Jews, and I took some of it. I put it in my hat and pinned my hat to my head to hide it on the bus ride home. It worked quite well, though a chain was tangled in my hair when I removed my hat. When I showed it to Angelo, he didn’t cry the way I did when I found it. He yelled instead. He yelled at me and told me I was the most foolish woman he’d ever met. When I yelled back and told him I would be taking more, and I would keep taking it because it didn’t belong to the German thieves, he cursed, kicked the wall as hard as he could with his prosthetic leg, then hugged me so tightly I could hardly breathe. I could feel his heart pounding against my cheek, and though I don’t want him to be afraid for me, I can’t find it in myself to regret taking the gold. I will take more, and more, and more. I will take every last piece. They won’t miss it, they stole it, and we need it. They’ve forgotten it’s even there.

Giulia wept when I returned her wedding band. When I told her and Mario where I’d found the gold, they were as sickened and angry as me. But they didn’t yell at me for taking it. Instead, they started devising ways to get the entire barrel out of German Headquarters. Mario insisted it could be traded on the black market for everything from milk to shoes and safe passage to Switzerland, and he pressed Angelo to take the gold and use it. Angelo has so many to look after, so many people to be afraid for, but I think the main reason he took it was so I wouldn’t try to barter with it myself.

Mario must have sensed his hesitation, because he told him that that much gold could save hundreds of lives. Angelo nodded and agreed but said he was more worried about my life and the danger I put myself in by taking it.

I reminded him that I am not the priority. He didn’t argue, but I could see his response all over his face when he looked at me. I am his priority. I’m not sure when it happened, but I am his priority.

The gold file I took from the barrel and slid in the side of my shoe is still there. It isn’t much of a weapon, though it is quite sharp. Still, it reminds me of what has been done to us, and it gives me courage.

Eva Rosselli





CHAPTER 15


CHRISTMAS


The day before Christmas Eve, first thing in the morning, Angelo cornered Monsignor O’Flaherty in his office and bade him to follow him to the loading dock at the rear of the Vatican where the kitchen and the service entrances were located.

“I have a surprise for you, Monsignor. An answer to our prayers.”

“Which prayer, Angelo? I’ve put up quite a few different ones as of late.”

“Food, clothing, supplies. Presents.”

“Presents?”

“Didn’t you say some of our smallest pilgrims are in need of Christmas cheer?”

“What magic have you done, Angelo?” O’Flaherty’s eyes lightened with hope.

“I haven’t done anything, really. One of my refugees found a pot of gold,” Angelo said with a bad Irish brogue.

“Whatever do you mean?” O’Flaherty gasped.

“You’ve met Eva. She is the one who works at Gestapo Headquarters.”

“Ah, yes. Eva.” O’Flaherty narrowed his gaze on Angelo’s face. “Monsignor Luciano has mentioned her as well.”

Angelo didn’t want to know what Monsignor Luciano had said.

“She found the gold that Kappler demanded from the Jews. The fifty kilograms. It was in a storage closet at Via Tasso, pushed back in the corner like no one knew what to do with it.”

The monsignor crossed himself and released his breath. “Dear Lord. What a travesty.”

“She found a ring that belonged to her aunt’s sister. A woman we’re hiding. She took some of the gold. Handfuls of it. And the next day she went back for seconds.”

The monsignor looked at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Angelo wondered if he had looked the same when Eva had told him what she’d done. She was too fearless for her own good.

“Well, it certainly doesn’t belong to the Germans,” O’Flaherty said, shaking his head like he still couldn’t believe it.

“No. It doesn’t. But she didn’t take it for herself. She gave it to me, and I used it to buy all of this.” He lifted the flaps of the truck and O’Flaherty whistled, low and slow, when he saw the interior, filled to overflowing with food and toys and miscellaneous supplies.

“It’s Christmas, Monsignor. We have presents to deliver.”

The monsignor began to laugh and spin, and before Angelo knew it, he was being pulled into an Irish jig.

“Father, I can’t dance!” he yelped, trying not to fall flat on his backside.

“Sure ya can!” The monsignor laughed, but he released Angelo to finish the steps alone, laughing and kicking up his heels.

“Eva wrapped all of them and labeled them so we can gift them appropriately. The Jews celebrate Hanukkah, not Christmas, but she says it doesn’t matter. She says we can all celebrate Christ this year, as it is his church protecting her people.”