Document text
Roaldus Richmond
and
Mari Tomaai
BOIT WILL ILL A MAN
ReLorroso
m
SEP 14 leL'4`'
In the back room of the Lambs' Club, a gambling and drink
in, den, the little man lay on a disheveled bed and stared at
the ceiling"— a granitecutter on a periodic drunk. The screened
in gambling room, thick with smoke and rough voices, was crowded
with truck -drivers, stonecutters, bootlegoors, professional
gamblers, and loafers. Sinewy and grimy hands held the cards
at the rim of the large round table. The little man was no
longer young, but his hair was thick and dark; sweat glistened
on his forehead, under the oyes, along the upper lip.
Arturo said, "I don't know how long I been drunk. I don't
know when's the last ti7-0 I ate something. All I know is I'm
seeing things now. And hearing them. All kinds of things.
So bad I'm afraid to close my eyes. Oodt So I leave the light
on and look at the ceiling. Once in a while I drink another
bottle of beer, hut it don't help me much any more."
re rubbed forehead and eyes with the knuckles of one hand.
Arturo had always been immaculate. Even during a drunk he
kept himself neat and clean.
"I cut stone all my life and I drank all my life. Both
will kill a man in his forties. And I've done plenty of both.
It don't matter much which way you go. I'm over fifty now.
I feel it inside. I'm a lettervwcutter when I work. You
Eot to have a sharp eye and steady hand to cut letters. It's
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nervous work. After eight hours of that you need a drink, all
right. You need a dozen drinks.
"I don't know why I drink this way. I go along a year
or so all right. Take a few at night, go to work in the morn-
ing. Then --I don't know all at once I get started like
this. God, it's awful. Three-four months, sometimes longer.
Don't work, don't eat, nothing but drink. Gantt get away from
it.
"I guess I got nothing to hold me from drinking. This
is the only home I got since my if. left me. The boys that
run this place have been good to me. People say they're bad,
but they're good to me. If you're down and out they ain't
kicking in your teeth 0.- I ought to know.
"My wife was a good woman but what a talker. What a tonguet
My God, Maddalena's tongue& She got it from her old lady.
atddalena was a knockout though. The old lady didn't want her
to marry me. We had to run away and do it. We had two daughters
I ain't seen them since they was small kids. Both Grown up
and married now. "nd I'm a grandfather. My wife married another
stonecutter, he was always after me to quit the sheds, then
she up and marries another stonecutter, God, I feel sorry for
html A woman with a tongue like that is bad for any man. It
goes all the time. Drives a man crazy.
"I'd like to see the girls. 1 think I saw the oldest one
when Joe Ricardelli died. A lot of Italians came up from Q.uincy.
I was at the station when these people got ofr the train. I
saw this girl and I got a funny feeling. In my throat, up my
back. It must have been Nina, the oldest. Uy own daughter
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walking by not knowing we, not even seeing me. I felt bad.
For a long time I felt bad over that,
"I saw my wife two -three years ago at a wake. he was
fat. Lhe tried to talk with me, but there was nothing to say.
I got away quick as I could. I went out and got drunk with
her husband.
"I come from Monti li, near Turin. I was young when my
father and mother died. They left a little money. Everyone
wa: going to America, so I wont, too. I had relatives in Barre
and I came to live with them
OP Ow
thirty-seven years ago. ornd
of them were cutting stone. I went into the sheds to learn
the trade. The older men are dead now. The younger ones kept
away from stonecutting all except one boy. Le cuts stone
because he's got a wife and kids to support.
"I never went back to the old country. hell, why should
I? I came over so young I feel this is my only country, even
though I've got three brothers, and nephews and nieces over
there. My father's house was left to me and my brothers, but
it don't do we no good. I wrote ten -fifteen years ago and
told them to split it three ways. I don't want it. I'm glad
to be here. This marl Only this noon when I'm trying to sleep
young Pete Parotti come in drunk, drunk from last night, and
he turns on that radio. /41 I hear is how the English are bomb-
ing Turin."
Arturo turned on his side and reached for a half -empty
beer bottle. "God, I'm glad my father and mother are dead,
It'd drive me crazy knowing they was over there with bombs
droning all around them. They loved their home. Lived in
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the same house from the cit.,- they was married. Brought up all
us kids there. Not like me and naddalena. Renting three rooms,
here, renting four rooms somewhere else, so the kids never knew
one place for home. The last time I heard from my brothers
was a few years ago during the "Lthiopian war. Each one had a
son in the service. If they didn't get killed the= they'll
probably get it this time. And all for nothing. You wait.
Uussolini plays sucker and helps hitler, but in the end hitler111
turn on him. You wait and see. I feel sorry for my brothers
and their boys, but not so much as if it was my father and
mother. The brotners and nephews can take care of themselves.
"They tell me the highs level stretches above Montigli
are air bases now. They were fine plains. Us kids used to
run races there. I don't dream much about the old country.
But after that damn Pete turned on the radio I dreamed I was
up on those plains, and I could see the road winding down to
Turin. All ripped up it was by bombs. z‘nd the little road-
side chapels were in splinters, and the ground covered with
plaster pieces of St. Joseph, Christ, and the Blessed Virgin
vary. ,ind beside one of the bigger pieces my father and mother
were cr-jing. hy God& I woke up in a sweet." Arturo shivered.
Pia heal rolled back to the rumpled pillow.
ten I got married I was only nineteen too young. I
thou6ht I was a big shot, earning twelve -fifteen bucks a day.
'matins a kid nineteen making that money? I couldn't settle
down. I wasn't made for married life. The more Maddalena
nagged the more I drank. Finally, she took the two girls and
left me. I had to laugh once my folks wanted me to be a
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musician. "nd I land in a stoneshed. I don't mind the work.
I don't mind the dust. It's the noise drives me crazy it's
hell's own racket busting around my ears. They still call me
a good letter -cutter. It'll take a few days to eet onto my
feet again, but I'll do it. I always have. I'm going to sober
p and cut plenty of stone. You wait and ace."
Arturo let the brown bottle fall to the floor.
The tremors
had stopped, but his eyes were still wide open and staring at
tiA, ceiling.