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Chapter Three - On the Trail
DON CAMILLO HAD let himself go a bit in the course of a little sermon. He had made some rather pointed allusions to "certain people," and so on the following evening when he seized the ropes of the church bells all hell broke loose. Some damned soul had tied firecrackers to the clappers of the bells. No harm done of course, but there was a din of explosions shattering enough to give the ringer heart failure.
Don Camillo said nothing. He celebrated the evening service in perfect composure before a crowded congregation. Peppone was in the front row, and every countenance was a picture of fervor. It was enough to infuriate a saint, but Don Camillo was no novice in self-control and his audience went home disappointed.
As soon as the big doors of the church were closed, Don Camillo snatched up an overcoat and on his way out made a hasty genuflection before the altar.
"Don Camillo," said Christ, "put it down."
"I don't understand," protested Don Camillo.
"Put it down!"
Don Camillo drew a heavy stick out from under his coat and laid it in front of the altar.
"Not a pleasant sight, Don Camillo."
"But Lord! It isn't even oak; it's only poplar, light and supple," Don Camillo pleaded.
"Go to bed, Don Camillo, and forget about Peppone."
Don Camillo threw up his hands and went to bed with a temperature. But on the following evening when Peppone's wife came to the rectory, he leaped to his feet as though a firecracker had gone off under his chair.
"Don Camillo," began the woman, who was obviously upset. But Don Camillo interrupted her.
"Get out of my sight, sacrilegious creature!"
"Don Camillo, never mind about that foolishness. At Castellino there is that poor devil who tried to support Peppone. They have driven him out of the village!"
Don Camillo counted to ten and lit a cigar. "Well, what of it, comrade? Why should you bother about it?"
The woman started to shout. "I'm bothering because they came to tell Peppone, and he has gone rushing off to Castellino like a lunatic. And he has taken his Tommy gun with him!"
"I see; then you have got concealed arms, have you?"
"Don Camillo, never mind about politics! Can't you understand that Peppone is out to kill? Unless you help me, my husband is done for!"
Don Camillo laughed unpleasantly. "Which will teach him to tie firecrackers to my bells. I shall be pleased to watch him die in jail! You get out of my house!"
Ten minutes later, Don Camillo, with his skirts tucked up almost to his neck, was pedaling like a lunatic along the road to Castellino on a racing bike that belonged to the son of his assistant.
There was a splendid moon and when he was within a few miles of Castellino, Don Camillo saw by its light a man sitting on the wall of the little bridge that spans the river. He slowed down, since it is always best to be prudent when one travels by night, and stopped some ten yards from the bridge, holding in his hand a small object that he happened to have had in his pocket.
"Have you seen a big man go by on a bicycle in the direction of Castellino?" he asked.
"No, Don Camillo," replied the other quietly.
Don Camillo drew nearer. "Have you already been to Castellino?"
"No. I thought it over. It wasn't worthwhile. Was it my fool of a wife who put you to this trouble?"
"Trouble? Nothing of the kind ... a little constitutional!"
"Have you any idea what a priest looks like on a racing bicycle?" snickered Peppone.
Don Camillo came and sat beside him on his wall. "My son, you must be prepared to see all kinds of things in this world."
Less than an hour later, Don Camillo was back at the rectory and went to report to Christ.
"Everything went according to Your commandments."
"Well done, Don Camillo; but would you mind telling me who commanded you to grab him by the feet and tumble him into the ditch?"
Don Camillo raised his arms. "To tell you the truth, I can't remember exactly. As a matter of fact he seemed to find the sight of a priest on a racing bike distasteful, so I thought it only kind to stop him from seeing it any longer."
"I understand. Has he got back yet?"
"He'll be here soon. It struck me that in his rather damp condition, he might find the bicycle in his way, so I thought it best to bring it along with me."
"Very kind of you, I'm sure, Don Camillo," said Christ with perfect gravity.
Just before dawn Peppone appeared at the door of the rectory. He was soaked to the skin, and Don Camillo asked if it was raining.
"Fog," replied Peppone with chattering teeth. "May I have my bicycle?"
"Why, of course. There it is."
"Are you sure there wasn't a Tommy gun tied to it?"
Don Camillo smiled. "A Tommy gun? And what is that?"
As he turned from the door Peppone said, "I have made one mistake in my life. I tied firecrackers to your bells. It should have been half a ton of dynamite."
"Errare humanum est," remarked Don Camillo.
Go on to chapter four, Night School on the meaning of life website.
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