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As Peppi was the only one dining by himself, Marcello paid extra attention to him so that he wouldn’t feel alone amidst the hubbub.
    Later, when Peppi was finishing and there was a quiet moment in the restaurant, Marcello brought out two cups of espresso and sat down at the table with him. He slid one cup over to Peppi and kept the other for himself.
    â€œI need a little break,” he told Peppi, taking a teaspoon of sugar and dumping it into his cup. Then he added another spoonful, and then another.
    â€œYou’ve earned it,” said Peppi with a smile. “You work hard.”
    â€œEverybody works hard,” sighed Marcello. “We all take our turns. That’s just the way of things.”
    â€œIt’s a good way,” said Peppi.
    Marcello took a sip of espresso. “So tell me, Signor Peppino, how is it that you speak our language so well, and what brings you all the way across the ocean from America to my little trattoria?”
    â€œI was hungry,” said Peppi with a shrug.
    Marcello burst out in laughter. “Well, I hope it was worth the trip!” he exclaimed. “Tell everybody else to do the same when you go back to America.”
    â€œI’m not going back to America,” said Peppi. “I’m going back to live in Abruzzo where I grew up.”
    â€œChe pazzo!” cried Marcello. “You give up living in America to come back here? What are you, crazy?”
    Peppi smiled and took a sip of his espresso. “That’s the same question everyone back home kept asking me. Now that I’ve come back to Italy, people are still asking.”
    â€œThat’s because it’s a good question, my friend,” said Marcello, wagging his finger at him. Then he broke out in another great smile. “Of course, if you’re going to be staying, that’s a good reason to go get some new shoes.” He was just about to tell Peppi where to find the best shoes in Rome, but then one of the other patrons called to him to order a second bottle of wine.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    The train for Sulmona pulled out of Termini a few minutes past noon. Peppi had spent the few extra dollars needed to sit in a first class compartment. It would be a long trip and he wanted to be comfortable. Besides, it would be easier to keep an eye on his luggage, particularly the case containing his bicycle, which was far more valuable to him than the combined contents of the other two suitcases. For the time being, Peppi had the compartment all to himself, so he settled into his seat and passed the time by staring out the window at the flat, uninteresting landscape. Before long his eyes grew heavy and he dozed off.
    When he awoke, Peppi discovered that he had been joined by two other passengers. One was an attractive young woman. Sitting one seat over on Peppi’s side of the compartment, she flipped through the pages of a fashion magazine. Across from her sat a young, smartly dressed businessman. The young man, Peppi noted with amusement, was pretending to scan the headlines of the financial news while periodically looking up in the hope of catching the young woman’s eye. For her part, the young woman never so much as glanced his way, completely ignoring the young man in that maddening and devastating way that only Italian women know how to do.
    Peppi sat up straight and gave a little yawn. To the consternation of the young man, the young woman turned and smiled at the older gentleman.
    â€œI’m sorry, Signore,” she said, pulling her belongings closer to her to make more space for Peppi. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”
    â€œNot at all, Signorina,” answered Peppi. “Far worse things can happen to an old man than to wake up and find a beautiful young lady sitting beside him.”
    The young woman beamed. The young man fumed.
    Peppi smiled and turned to look out the window as the train clattered along. The landscape had changed dramatically, the