A Bell for Adano Read Free Page B

these pages by, and turned to the page marked: Notes to Joppolo from Joppolo.
    And he read: “Don’t make yourself cheap. Always be accessible to the public. Don’t play favorites. Speak Italian whenever possible. Don’t lose your temper. When plans fall down, improvise...”
    That was the one he wanted. When plans fall down, improvise.
    Plans for this first day were in the wastebasket. They were absurd. Enough was set forth in those plans to keep a regiment busy for a week.
    Now Victor Joppolo felt on his own, and he no longer looker tired. He got up briskly, went out onto the balcony and saw that there were two flagpoles there. He went back in, reached in his brief case and pulled out two flags, one American, the other British.
    He tucked the Union Jack under his arm as he walked out again, felt for the toggles on the American flag, mounted them on the halyard on the left-hand flagpole, and raised the flag.
    Before the flag reached the top of the pole there were five Italians in the Piazza. Before he had the British flag attached to the halyard on the right-hand pole, there were twenty. By the time he had both flags up, forty people were shouting: “Buon giorno, buon giorno, Americano.”
    He waved to them and went back into his office. Now he was happy and quick.
    He took up his brief case again, reached in and pulled out a pile of proclamations. He took them over to the table by the door, set the leftover maps and photos aside, and arranged the proclamations in order on the table. While he was on his way back to his desk, there was a knock on the door.
    “Come in,” he said in Italian.
    The door opened. A man came in whose appearance was vaguely familiar to Major Joppolo. The Major realized later that he had seen, not this man, but several who looked just like him, in bad American movies. He was the type of the second-rate Italian gangster, the small fellow in the gang who always stood behind the boss and who always took the rap. He had the bald head, the weak mouth. He had a scar across his cheek. His eye was furtive and he had the appearance of being willing but in need of instructions.
    He said in English: “You pull up a flag. War’s a finish here in Adano, huh?”
    The Major said: “Yes, who are you?”
    The Italian said: “I’m from a Cleveland, Ohio. I been here a three year. You got a work for me?”
    Major Joppolo said: “What’s your name?”
    The Italian said: “Ribaudo Giuseppe. In a Cleveland, call a me Joe.”
    Major Joppolo said: “What can you do?”
    Ribaudo said: “I’m a good American. I’m a hate these Fascisti. I could do a good a job for you.”
    Major Joppolo said: “If you’re such a good American, why did you leave the States?”
    Ribaudo said: “I’m a kick out.” “I’m a no passport.”
    “How’d you get in, then?”
    ‘I got a plenty friends in a Cleveland and a Buffalo.’ “What did you do in the States?”
    “Oh, I work a here, work a there.”
    Major Joppolo was pleased with Ribaudo for not trying to lie about his illegal entry and repatriation. He said: “Okay, I’ll hire you. You will be my interpreter.”
    “You don’t a speak Italian?”
    “Yes, but there’ll be other Americans here who don’t, and I may need you for other things, too. Do you know these people well, do you know who’s for us Americans and who’s against us?”
    “Sure, a boss, I help a you plenty.”
    “All right, what did you say your name was?” “Ribaudo Giuseppe, just a Joe for you.”
    “No, we’re in Italy, I’ll call you Giuseppe here. Just two things now, Giuseppe. You’ve got to be honest with me; if you’re not, you’ll be in bad trouble. The other is, don’t expect me to do you any favors I wouldn’t do for anyone else, see?”
    “Oh sure, a boss. You don’t a worry.”
    “Now tell me, what does this town need the most?” “I could a go for a movie house, a boss.”
    “No, Giuseppe, I mean right now.”
    “Food, a boss. Food is a bad now in Adano.