The Good Left Undone(77)

“Ethiopia.”

“The land of the white sand and the sapphire ocean.”

“You know it!”

“There’s an aventurine mine there. I went to North Africa to buy the green stones and spinel. After that, I went south to a diamond mine.”

“The Cape of Good Hope. There’s no good and no hope there. Pirates. More rock is stolen than mined.”

“How is that possible?”

“My father and brother work in the mine there. The conditions are terrible. And there are days the owners do not distribute the purse. They steal from the workers. That’s why I came here. I can shine shoes for more than my father’s day wage. I can take the money home someday to help my family. I would like to farm. I know how to farm.”

“You’ll have to go north.”

“Your wife said there are farms outside Treviso to the north. Fields of corn and wheat.” The boy looked up at Speranza.

“Yes. Green fields. Blue sky. And in the far distance, the white peaks of the Dolomites. I live on a farm outside Treviso with my wife in the summer.”

“Do your children work the farm?”

“We don’t have children.” Speranza smiled, but in truth, the mention of children was a sore point with him. He couldn’t give Agnese a child, her highest dream.

“Signora is strong.”

“Yes, she is. She is a mother to all.”

The boy smiled. “I have a strong mother.” The boy stood back with his rag. “There.”

Romeo looked down at his shoes. “I can see the oxblood. More importantly, Signora Speranza will be able to see the oxblood.”

“Fine leather.”

“Florentine. The best leather.” Speranza dug in his pocket. “Shoes should be comfortable. You get more work out of yourself that way.”

The shoeblack’s feet were bare.

“I’m in a shop on Calle Soranzo. A jewelry shop. Come by in the morning, and we’ll see what we can do about your dreams of working on a farm.” Speranza handed the boy seven lire.

“Mille grazie, Signore. Mille grazie.”

“You may change your mind when you meet my cow.”

“I will work hard.”

“You’ll have to. The cow is ornery, the pig is stupid, and the donkey has a bad foot.”

“I understand.”

“Where do you sleep?”

“Under the bridge.” The boy pointed.

“What’s your name?”

“Emos.”

“Come and see me tomorrow, Emos.”

“I will, Signore.”

Speranza walked back to the shop. He stopped in the street when he realized what had transpired with the shoeblack. He hadn’t been sent to Calle Sant’Antonio for a shoeshine. Agnese had sent him to the boy to size him up, so the hire would look like his idea. She had probably already made a deal with him to work the farm. He grinned. That would be just like his wife.

The clang of the church bells accompanied the sun as it began its descent. The blue shade of night was slowly pulled over the city. Venezia turned silver in the light. One by one the palazzi that graced the canals fell into shadow, like saints in their alcoves in a dark church when the candles were extinguished.

The island of Murano twinkled in the distance, lit from within as the flames danced in the glass kilns. The furnaces raged, throwing a glow overhead, forming a white halo in the purple sky. Every place is holy when the sun goes down, Speranza thought as he moved quickly through the coming darkness, home to Agnese and Shabbos.


LIVERPOOL

June 9, 1940

The ocean liner docked in the harbor was so tall it blocked the moon. The moan of the moorings sounded like the wail of ghosts. Glamour took a holiday on the docks of Liverpool even when the ships were grand. A crew of men worked around the clock repurposing the Arandora Star to join the wartime fleet.

At first, the Arandora transported Allied troops as they evacuated Norway and France. A plan to flip the Arandora was devised quickly by the Royal Navy and executed by the working men of Devenport. The requisitioned ship would join the merchant navy fleet in Liverpool to transport Axis nationals and prisoners of war.

Their docks of Liverpool were soon shored up by the Irish, who poured into the city looking for work. The requisitions were only part of the mandate to prepare for war; the Welsh had been building ships as well. The production lines operated twenty-four hours a day as shipbuilders, technicians, and laborers finished a new fleet of submarines and military cruisers for battle. The slips along the harbor were occupied, packed with a clutter of boats of all sizes enlisted or built by the Crown.

Britain had declared war in September 1939. Germany had attacked the Low Countries and France by May 1940. The men working the shipyards experienced an escalation in their workload and an urgency to finish the jobs quickly. All seaworthy boats from skiffs to ocean liners were requisitioned to defend the island. The Brits had already suffered losses in France and been humiliated at Dunkirk and were prepared to do whatever they must to win. They were determined to show the world the best ships were built in Liverpool.

The pubs overflowed with men between shifts. Dockworkers showed up for a pint covered in gray and white paint, proof that the final coat applied to the Arandora meant war was imminent. The Second World War would soon erupt over their island like a volcano, burning them with firebombs and heat from the Luftwaffe.