To Find a Mountain
“His shoulders, always slightly rounded, were now downright slumped. The bags under his eyes had turned dark, and the smile was gone from his face, along with the bounce in his step. My heart caught in my throat, but before I could ask what was wrong, he answered.
“Benedetta,” he said. “I am going to the front.”
“No . . .” I began, but he held up his hand.
“It is too late, Benny. I, we, have no choice.”
“Why don’t you find a mountain, Papa?” I whispered. “Like the other men. They are there; they can help you. You won’t survive at the front!”
“The Germans have said if I were to disappear . . . well, it just would not be good.”
“But why you? I thought they needed you to work with the people in Casalvieri . . .”
He shrugged. “They say they need me at the front, to coordinate the drivers of the ambulances.”
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