The oath

The secret ways of the heart

Stories of youth

II

by Massimo Lapponi

The welcome

          Philip Temple with his son Thomas and granddaughter Margaret arrived well in advance at Gatwick Airport and had to wait more than half an hour before the Castelli family finally appeared in the airport lobby. As soon as Margaret saw Vittoria enter, along with her father, mother, sister Emma and brother Stefano she immediately ran to meet them full of joy. After having warmly greeted everyone, and especially her best friend Vittoria, she immediately hurried to make the introductions.

          “My grandfather Philip, my father Thomas. Doctor Alessandro Castelli, his wife Doctor Silvia Fernandez, their children Stefano, Emma and Vittoria”.

          After cordial handshakes and exchanges of courtesies, Margaret’s grandfather said, not without some emotion, in perfect Italian:

          “It is my duty to express the regret of all of us for the crimes perpetrated against you by my unhappy mother, the Marquise Adriana Boreggi. But I am consoled to know that to some extent this has been compensated by the beneficial friendship that has arisen between your daughter Vittoria and my dear granddaughter Margaret. I know I’m a little partial to her for my great love for her, but I can’t help but feel proud of my granddaughter, and on this occasion I want to thank her wholeheartedly, in front of all of you, for having ensured that there was no hostility between our families, but rather a cordial friendship”.

          While Alessandro and Silvia answered by expressing the friendliest feelings towards the English family, Vittoria, taking Margaret under her arms, whispered in her ear:

“I’m so glad your grandfather says that about you”.

“I, on the contrary” replied Margaret, blushing for embarrassment, “wish Grandpa would sometimes keep his tongue to himself!”

Only Emma had difficulties with English, so soon a lively conversation started, while, with the luggage on their shoulders, the group was heading towards the exit of the airport.

They soon reached the railway station and settled on the train to Reading.

“Doctor Castelli” Thomas said with a smile that expressed all his sympathy for the Italian family, “of course you will be our guests”.

Alexander looked at him a bit embarrassed.

“But didn’t we agree that we would go to a hotel?”

“Yes, of course, but only for the night. In fact it will be our pleasure to take advantage of your company as much as possible. We have many things to ask about Doctor Bonich and his writings”.

“We will be delighted to be with you, and we would also like to know a lot about Charles Williams, Dorothy Sayers and the other great Christian writers of Oxford. We know that Doctor Philip knew them well”.

“Actually, when I arrived at Oxford,” Philip said, “Charles Williams was already dead, but I frequented for a long time the others, who remembered him with great veneration”.

“I think we will be able to say many interesting things” Alessandro smiled cordially to Philip “and that we will spend wonderful days with you”.

“Of course, as you already know,” said Thomas, “Vittoria will also be our guest for the night, that is for one night, because tomorrow she and Margaret will go to the camp with the scouts”.

“Yes, this is the program. We are really sorry to lose the company of our good girls, but we are always pleased to know that they are safe in a good milieu and that they are very happy to be together”.

Margaret and Vittoria smiled joyfully and exchanged a very eloquent look of understanding. They had wished so much to meet again, after Margaret’s departure from Italy, and now it did not seem true to them to be able to stay together for a long time, even more in a scout camp, with the prospect of numerous adventures. For Vittoria moreover the enthusiasm was doubled by the fact of being in England for the first time.

“Where are we going to camp?” she asked.

“In Wales” Margaret replied. “In a beautiful country area. We will camp near a farm where we can buy food, and not far away there should also be an ancient chapel”.

“Wow! I can’t wait”.

“There will be some problem for the language with the locals. Even for us sometimes it is difficult. The government, contrary to common usage, even tries to eradicate their strange way of speaking, which is just incomprehensible. For example, instead of saying: a nest of birds, they say something like : Brid-nist”.

“Eradicating a dialect” Silvia remarked, “it’s not a beautiful thing”.

Thomas burst out laughing.

“Don’t worry! They’ll never eradicate the Welsh dialect!”

He then added to Vittoria:

“But you will see that it will be a wonderful experience. The countryside of Wales is beautiful and you will eat very genuine products. By the way, Mrs. Silvia, I hope you will let us taste something of Italian cuisine!”

They all burst out laughing.

“With the help of Emma” Silvia finally said, “I hope I can do something good. But do you prefer Italian or English cuisine?”

“That’s an absurd question!” exclaimed Philip, causing general hilarity.

The conversation accompanied them throughout the journey and finally in the late afternoon they arrived at Reading station. Waiting for them was the wife of Thomas, a blonde lady in her forties, a bit chubby, nice and smiling face, typically English.

When the group got off the train, she went to meet them and exclaimed:

“Is this our dear Italian family? I am Nora, Thomas’ wife and Margaret’s mother. You don’t know how happy I am to meet you!”

Everyone introduced themselves and greeted her cordially.

“My relatives have already done it” Nora added, “but I also want to ask your forgiveness for all the harm that the wretched Lady Boreggi has done to your family. Please forget everything and accept our friendship”.

“Dear Lady Temple” Silvia exclaimed embracing her, “we have already forgotten everything and ask you not to remember what happened. But I have to tell you that you have a lovely daughter and my daughter Vittoria could not find a better friend”.

“Well, well!” said Thomas. “But now let us take taxis to take you to the hotel to drop off your luggage. Then you will come to us to taste, at least for tonight, the detestable English cuisine”.

Everyone laughed and headed for the exit of the station.

En route to Wales

          The next morning Margaret and Vittoria rose early to join their fellow scouts at the Anglican parish of Reading. The trip lasted a few hours and they had to leave early to have then all the time to install the camp.

The night before, after having left the luggage at the hotel, the whole family had been a guest of the English friends and after dinner the conversation had gone on for a long time. But the two girls had retreated early, both because they couldn’t wait to stay alone and talk about the thousand things they had to say, and because, having to get up early the next morning, they couldn’t afford to go to sleep too late. To tell the truth, they were a little disappointed by this last requirement, because it forced them to limit their first private conversation to a few minutes. But the sacrifice was faced with joy, at the thought of all the time they would have available in the following days to be together and to say to each other all that was in their hearts.

After a quick breakfast, they went down to the street and Thomas drove them to their destination. The two girls greeted him warmly and then rushed to the group of scouts that crowded around the bus ready for departure. George, William and the young people who had been to Italy the previous month welcomed Vittoria with the greatest cordiality and asked her a thousand questions about their friends in the Italian Scout Department.

When the group was finally full and the luggage was placed in the trunk, after reciting the “Our Father” and singing the national anthem, the boys with their leaders got neatly in the car and the bus departed towards the highway to Wales.

Of course Vittoria and Margaret had sat side by side and Margaret had insisted that her friend occupy the seat by the window.

“I already know England,” she said. “I think it’s only right that you, who are here for the first time, should enjoy it”.

Before this reasoning Vittoria had necessarily had to give in.

“But on the way back,” she said, “you’re in the window”.

“Listen, please! Don’t talk about it now! It’s too sad a subject!”

“Really! Wow! Why does it have to end?! But now let’s not think about it. I’m so happy to take this trip with you that you have no idea! My heart bursts with joy and I never want to finish thanking God!”

“Don’t tell me! I feel like I’m already in heaven!”

“Luckily Father Franco is not here. Otherwise he would immediately throw water on the fire and tell us that we must go to a great deal of trouble to earn heaven”.

“Oh, William is no less! After all, they are right. But I believe that if the Lord gives us moments of such great happiness already now, it would be ingratitude not to welcome them with sincere joy. We know that then sad moments will come, and we must expect them. But faith tells us that joy will finally prevail, and so why not enjoy this foretaste of paradise?”

“Oh, Margaret! I’m so happy! Look what a wonderful day! But is it true that weather doesn’t last here?”

“Yes, you really have to expect everything here. In the morning you go out in the sun and shortly after you need an umbrella. But let’s hope that today is always maintained like this”.

Meanwhile, the bus had left the city and taken the highway.

“How beautiful is your campaign!” Vittoria said. “It’s different from ours. How many lawns have been razed to the ground! What are they? Golf courses?”

“Yes, of course. It’s a much practiced sport. As you know, for us sport has a very important place”.

“Yes, I know that. I read in a book that to excite a Frenchman at a sport’s match you have to tell him that the national honor is at stake, while to excite an Englishman at a battle you have to tell him that it is like a rugby match”.

Margaret burst out laughing.

“I did not know this!” she said. “Italy is also very beautiful. I still remember as a dream the Franciscan church lost in the middle of the countryside”.

“By the way: do you know anything about where we are going? Is it true that there is an ancient chapel?”

“So I heard. But I don’t know the details. There should be a farm run by a group of young people. They seem to have exquisite products, which they produce themselves. It should be a very old farm, and the chapel is part of the same property”.

“How beautiful! And we have the idea that England is always spoken of as the homeland of Mary Quant, the Beatles, the Hooligans and the youth degradation”.

“Unfortunately, this is partly true. But, especially in the province, this is not the case. There are families, like ours, sincerely believers, who want to remain so and live a healthy life, like that of our ancestors. But I do not hide that I see with fear approaching great dangers, which also threaten the healthy part of our society”.

“In Italy it is the same. And you know that I have experienced it. How ugly it was to feel irretrievably far from the happiness of childhood and almost forced, for consistency with one’s own convictions, to follow the example of a society that was apparently joyful, but in reality desperate, without deep and sincere ties and without God! I can’t thank you enough for getting me out of that hell in time! But how many young people drown in it! I’d like to do something for them!”

Margaret took her hand and squeezed her between her own.

“Vittoria!” she said. “Don’t thank me: I am only an instrument! But listen: let us now make a pact! Do we swear that throughout our lives we will strive to save young people from the dangers of this world and to make them discover ever more the beauty of healthy life, respect for their parents, pure love, fidelity and fraternal service to all? Isn’t that what we learned from the scouts? And we must have confidence that the Lord will help us to defend them, despite the obstacles that threaten us”.

Vittoria warmly reciprocated Margaret’s handshake and exclaimed in a trembling voice:

“Yes, Margaret! Sometimes I am terrified and I feel powerless in the face of the evil that advances with such arrogance. But your friendship gives me so much courage! Yes! Let us solemnly swear before God that we will always be united in the struggle for the good of our young brothers and sisters!”

They closed their eyes holding hands and remained silent for a few minutes, confirming the commitment voiced in the secret of their hearts.

Meanwhile, the bus had traveled a good stretch of road and it was time for lunch.

They stopped in a predetermined space and all went down to the street.

Beyond the protection parapet was a lawn shaded by a group of trees, where a man was working with a tractor. George asked for permission to use the land and the man willingly gave it to him.

The scouts set up under the trees, pulled out the supplies and began to eat lunch. Not far away there was also a farm, whose owners put cordially at the disposal of the scouts the necessary services, and for a while there was a continuous going on. When they were all fed up and refreshed, they went back in the car and the bus was back on the road.

After crossing wetlands and wind-swept heaths, the bus reached a hilly, heavily cultivated area, rich in forests and dotted with small villages and farmhouses. Continuing south-west, it entered the heart of the Welsh countryside, and in the late afternoon, after descending a steep slope on the side of a hill, it halted at a spring in a broad plain rich in vegetation.

Although they were rather tired from the long journey, the boys did not hesitate to get off the bus and get to work to plant the tents and set up the camp. The movement, after hours of immobility, was always a relief for them and the prospect of a good dinner and an equally good sleep was very tempting.

It all took place with order and late in the evening, having completed all the tasks planned, after reciting the prayers under William’s guidance, the scouts retreated to their tents postponing to the day after the assignment of roles and the setting of the times of the activities.

Oak Farm

          The next day, after completion of the morning cleaning, prayers and breakfast, the scouts gathered in the center of the camp and George, after illustrating the schedule of the days of camping, distributed the assignments and established the shifts for the various services. Among these was the duty to go every morning to the nearby farm, called Oak Farm, to buy milk, eggs, fruit, vegetables and other provisions.

“Every day,” said George, “five scouts in turn will go to the farm. Today James, David, Fred, Margaret and Vittoria will go. You can go now. It’s easy to find the farm: just follow that path. It’s less than a mile away. On this page is the list of things to buy. The boys of the farm are already informed and are waiting for you”.

This being said, George handed the list to James and the five young people cheerfully set out along the path, very excited at the thought of finally seeing Oak Farm, which had been so much talked about during the trip.

The path climbed slightly up the hillside, flanked by low hedges. Around there were meadows and pastures as far as the eye could see, rich in oaks and willows, with farmhouses scattered among the fields and herds of sheep grazing.

“It starts well!” exclaimed Vittoria opening her arms and sucking the fresh air to the full lungs.

“Do you like Wales?” David asked. “Do you know that I am half Welsh?”

“So you speak the dialect here?”

“Really not so much. But I understand a bit, and it makes me laugh to death”.

“Do you know anything about this farm?”

“Not so much,” James said. “It’s the first time we’ve been here, and George didn’t even know it existed until recently. It was one of his acquaintances who talked to him about it and recommended it as a foothold for a campsite. He took some information and it seemed that really the advice was great”.

“They say it’s an old house,” Margaret said.

“It looks that way” James replied. “George told me that he spoke to the guys who run it. They work very well. It recently had some restorations. But here it is. Now we can see it with our own eyes, and also ask for some information.

A hundred meters from them the path opened on a large plot of land, crossed by the road, where the farm stood, with a wall and entrance gate.

The gate was open and the young people entered the enclosure. Oak Farm appeared to them as an imposing abode of other times. In the center there was the main building, two story high, with a massive entrance door. On the sides there were two long buildings near which one could see busy boys and girls and small children running around here and there. In the buildings, in addition to the living spaces, there were warehouses and workshops. On the ground there were neatly aligned sheds for the collection of agricultural products and work machines.

James approached a young man who had turned to them.

“We’re Reading’s scouts,” he said.

“We were expecting you” replied the young man with a friendly smile. “Come with me”.

He went to a large shed that stood on the ground to the left of the block. Two dogs, tied to a chain not far from the shed, began to bark. Vittoria, who had no sympathy for the dogs, got a little nervous and the young man noticed.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “They don’t hurt, and moreover they’re tied up”.

“Don’t you like dogs?” Margaret told Vittoria. “I adore them. They are the most loyal friends”.

“It will be a matter of habit. But if you like them I want to make an effort and try to overcome fear”.

Meanwhile, they had reached inside the shed, where a girl sat behind a counter busy doing the math. Around there was a large amount of farm products arranged neatly in distinct groups.

“Ann” said the young man who accompanied the boys. “These are the scouts of Reading”.

“Welcome!” Ann smiled at the newcomers. “Do you have the product list?”

James approached the bench and began to examine the list with the girl.

While the farm boy, helped by the Reading boys, collected the material listed on the list, Margaret and Vittoria took a look around. The boys and girls on the farm were all at work. Some were far away in the fields, busy tending to crops or farm animals. You could see sheep, hens, rabbits, pigs and even some horses grazing in the distance.

“How beautiful!” said Margaret “I wonder if we can go on horseback!”

“Can you do it?” Vittoria asked.

“Yes, of course. It’s a popular sport”.

“I know that it is now spreading in Italy, but it is not very common. I have never practiced it”.

“I mean, you seem to be unfamiliar with animals”.

“It’s true. But you will teach me”.

“You can count on it!”

“Girls!” called James. “Here: the products are ready. Now we will share the load”.

“If you like” said the young man of the farm, “we can give you a cart with the horse. It will save you the trouble. It’s free!”

“Thank you! Good idea!”

“Then I’ll go get it. I’ll take you”.

The young man walked away and the scouts attacked conversation with Ann.

“Have you been here long?” Margaret asked.

“Two years”.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, a lot”.

“Is it true that the farm is old?”

“Yes, it dates back to the 18th century. However, it has recently been restored”.

“We can see it’s kept very well”.

“But here’s Robert with the cart”.

The young man had returned with a small cart pulled by a very sturdy pony.

The scouts approached the pony and began to caress him and give him a thousand compliments.

“How nice! How old is it? Do you have many? How would I like to have a good ride? If I had one like that!”

Vittoria looked a little embarrassed, not being used to dealing familiarly with animals.

“Come!” said Margaret. “Give him some caress, too. He’s very sweet!”

Vittoria approached and began timidly to caress the pony on the head. Meanwhile, the others, seeing that she was a bit scared, laughed.

“He won’t eat you!”

Even Vittoria laughed.

“I’d like to be like you!” she exclaimed.

“But now it’s time to go” James said. “Let’s load the material and set off”.

Quickly, with the help of Robert, everything was arranged and the scouts set off to go back to the camp.

“Do you like it here?” David asked Robert.

“Great! Really at the beginning I had a bit hardship to adapt. But now I really like the job and the place is beautiful”.

“How did you decide to come here?”

“It was Ann who convinced me. I wanted to be with her, but for some time she had started dating Oak Farm, because a friend of hers lived there, and she wanted to come and stay here. So we decided. Here, however, there are rules and we had to adapt”.

“What are the rules?”

“You have to work, respect schedules, and many other things. But really after a while you do everything spontaneously. The proper functioning of the farm requires it and when things go well it is an advantage for everyone”.

“How was your group born?”

“Oh, it’s a long story! But here we are! Download all the material. I have to go back to the farm”.

The scouts placed in the tent-warehouse the products bought at Oak Farm and Robert, after having greeted them cordially, went away with the cart.

“Did you like the farm?” Margaret asked Vittoria.

“Very much! And I was also curious. Who knows why such young guys decided to live here!”

“Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Maybe so, but first you have to teach me to familiarize myself with animals!”

Margaret laughed.

“I think I would be very happy to live like that! But I would like to know more. Who knows what is behind the story of that house!”

“You know George said not to ask questions, because he’s running a game all about the history of the farm, or maybe the chapel? He said that knowing everything in advance would spoil the surprise of the game”.

“All right. So shut up! But now let’s go: it’s time for the group meeting!”.

An encounter

          The next day was Sunday and George had arranged for Vittoria to go and listen to mass in a nearby Catholic church. She was supposed to take a bus on the main road at 8 am and in half an hour she would reach a village where every Sunday at 9 am mass was celebrated. Margaret wanted to accompany her, but it was precisely that morning that she was responsible for the kitchen service. Vittoria didn’t mind going alone, because it seemed more adventurous.

So, after breakfast the girl went up the road covered by the bus on their arrival and reached the main road. The bus did not wait. It was half-empty. Vittoria climbed up, sat down by a window and remained in silence to contemplate the lush Welsh countryside that paraded under her gaze.

The solitude and the vision of the well-cultivated fields, with the farmhouses scattered around the hills and the flocks of sheep grazing, gave her a sweet emotion. She was living a beautiful experience and certainly on the way back she would have many things to tell. But Margaret was right: better not to think about the return! Leaving behind that beautiful countryside, separating from her dearest friend, returning to Italy with the prospect of the next reopening of schools… What a sadness!

“Better not to think about it!” she said. “Rather, I must try to treasure all the time I have available. But here it is: this should be the village”.

The bus had entered a town and had stopped along an avenue surrounded by houses and shops. Having confirmed that she had arrived at her destination, Vittoria took to the street and asked for directions to reach the Catholic church. They pointed out a little road slightly uphill and she started looking around with curiosity.

The village was certainly of ancient origin and even modern houses were built according to traditional models. Sharp roofs, brightly colored bricks, decorated shutters, small gardens in front of the houses: everything reflected the climate of old England, brightened by the beautiful day and festive atmosphere of Sunday.

The road that ran along led her a little outside the village, on a hill at the top of which stood a small church, not ancient, but pleasant. Around the building there was a garden with some benches.

The girl entered, took the holy water and made the sign of the cross. After a while the church was filled with people and began mass.

The celebrant was an elderly priest with a suffering aspect. He celebrated with great devotion and after the Gospel he gave a short but fervent homily.

Vittoria remained a little in prayer after mass, then went out and sat on a bench. She had more than an hour to wait before the bus to return. She also felt still immersed in the spiritual atmosphere of the celebration and wished to meditate a little in silence and solitude.

Soon after she had the impression of being observed. She turned and saw a very shabby-looking young man looking at her from a certain distance. He had long, disheveled hair, a very neglected beard and a tattoo on his left arm. He wore jeans and a brightly colored shirt.

He nodded to Vittoria and approached her.

“Do you mind if I stay and talk to you for a while?” he asked.

“If you like,” replied Vittoria, a bit embarrassed.

“I bet you’re one of Reading’s scouts,” said the boy sitting on the bench next to her.

“Yeah, how do you know?”

“You’re in uniform and I know you’re camped near Oak Farm”.

“Do you know Oak Farm?”

“Sure! I live there these days”.

“So you’re one of the young people in the group?”

“No. Not really. I’m only there for a few days. I go sometimes. But why are you here?”

“I came to hear the mass”.

“Are you a Catholic?”

“Yes. I’m Italian”.

The young man looked at her with curiosity. Then he handed her his hand.

“I am John,” he said.

“Pleased to meet you. Vittoria”.

“Strange that a young woman like you goes to mass”.

“Why is that weird?”

“Young people generally rebel against parental demands”.

“My parents don’t impose anything on me. Of course I too had my moments of crisis, but then I got closer. Also because at home religion is breathed with the air and with the love that binds us together”.

John looked at her with an air that wanted to be of mockery, but that was rather of astonishment.

“I don’t understand these things,” he said. “Perhaps because I never had a bourgeois family. That is” he added almost to correct an expression that could sound offensive, “a real family”.

Vittoria looked at him with curiosity:

“Don’t you have parents?”

John smiled with contempt.

“My parents!?” he exclaimed. “My father died of AIDS and I saw my mother a few times in my life. I lived with my maternal grandparents, who never liked to have to play the role of parents at their age. But I do not mind. The climate of good families is not for me. But here’s the thing: what do you see in the air that breathes in the house that attracts you to a religion of the past?”

“These are very personal things, which are not told to the first come”.

John had a rash of irritation, but immediately calmed down and remained silent with sad air. He felt exiled by something he sensed in the person of the young Italian woman, which attracted him like a magic, and he wanted to participate in it, but instead it remained stubbornly and totally out of his reach.

“So I am the first come!?” he finally said.

Vittoria felt a little guilty about her words just before and tried to make up for it.

“I mean, I mean, you’re still a stranger to me”.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it! But I would have liked to know something more of you believers and to know what draws you to the world of your parents”.

“A lot of things have happened in my family that have left a mark. But it’s not worth talking about now. I can only say that my mother had to make a certain journey to reach the faith”.

“If you want to tell me anything at least of this, I’ll be grateful”.

“My mother was a university professor and when she met my father he was just a student, a few years younger. That’s why at first she didn’t want to know: she believed that he was too young and immature. But when she read his graduation thesis, he found it so extraordinary that it completely changed her judgment on him. He told me they got engaged at the station while my father was leaving for military service. My father, shortly before, had befriended a Jesuit father, Father Jerome, an elderly priest who had been blind for many years. He had encouraged him to complete his graduation thesis before leaving for the military. If he had not succeeded, it would have been a problem. So thanks to Father Jerome, father and mother were engaged. When mom knew how things had gone, she wanted to go immediately to meet Father Jerome. Then she went back to him with dad on his first leave during his military service. The father had been very happy to meet my mother and to know the success of the whole affair. In turn, my mother was fascinated by that elderly blind priest, who seemed to be wisdom itself. This helped her to get closer to faith. When they then went to see the father together, Father Jerome told them that he was only asking for one favor, and hoped to be satisfied. He said he felt he was close to death and asked them not to postpone their marriage, because he wanted to celebrate it himself before he died. Father and mother laughed heartily at the father’s request and told him immediately that they would gladly accommodate him. In fact, shortly after my father’s dismissal they married and Father Jerome had time to bless their marriage shortly before his death. It was the death of Father Jerome who deeply moved my mother and put the definitive seal on her faith”.

John listened to her very carefully. When the girl finished her narrative, he remained silent for a few moments staring at the floor in front of him. Despite the partial confidence with which Vittoria had spoken to him, he still painfully felt that between her world and his there was no possibility of communication.

“Interesting” he said in a sad voice. “But maybe it’s time for you to go. I don’t want to waste your time”.

“Yes, I’d better go. Otherwise I risk losing the bus”.

They both rose and Vittoria handed him her hand.

“Then goodbye. Maybe we’ll meet again at Oak Farm”.

“Perhaps,” replied John, with little conviction.

They shook hands and Vittoria quickly set off for the bus stop.

“Why didn’t you honestly tell her what you thought?” John said to himself as he walked away. “Why didn’t you sing in her face all your contempt for their hypocritical bourgeois religion? Why didn’t you tell her she’d better dress more free and not like a scout or a girl from a good family? I’ll tell you why: because you fell in love with that Italian girl and everything around her! But mind: put it well in your head, between her and you there is nothing in common! The door is closed with ten padlocks! I don’t think she’d be able to spoil you, but after all it would be a shame if you spoiled her!”

After a last sad look in the direction where Vittoria had disappeared, John put his hands in his pocket and wandered off.

The hunt for the secret document

          On the evening of the following day, after dinner, while the whole group was gathered around the fire, George and William rose and addressed the boys with mysterious air.

“As you know” George said, “William and I took a trip around the world last year to find a pirate ship mysteriously lost in the South Seas. Arriving at a deserted island, we asked some local savages for information, who confirmed that, according to an ancient tradition, a pirate galleon flying the Spanish flag was shipwrecked among the rocks off that island. Now certain to have found the mysterious vessel, we plunged into the sea in apnea, in the place indicated, and we quickly reached the bottom. We had a few minutes of autonomy and so several times we had to climb to the surface. Finally, however, at the last dive we saw with joy before our eyes the remains of the famous vessel. We wanted to take all the treasures piled up in the cargo hold of the ship, but how to do it in two people and without underwater breathing equipment? We barely had time to grab a bottle that lay in the bottom of an uncovered casket and we had to climb immediately to the surface to catch our breath.

“We were already too tired to continue the search and we decided to abandon it, at least for the moment. As we rested, exhausted, on the beach, we began to examine the bottle that we had brought to the surface. It seemed to contain something. We opened it with some difficulty and what was inside? An English-language document that contained the narrative of events related to an ancient property lost in the countryside of Wales.

“Surprised by such a discovery, we decided to verify the accuracy of the information contained in the document and, with great difficulty, we finally learned that the property it mentioned really existed and was called Oak Farm…”

At this point all the boys burst into a thunderous laughter.

“Silence!” William said. “How dare you laugh behind the backs of two brave adventurers who risked their skin to tear from the waves of sea a precious historical document?!”

“How long were you in apnea?” asked a boy laughing.

“Seven minutes”.

There followed a roar accompanied by numerous whistles.

“I was there for two and a half hours last year!” a boy exclaimed.

“Silence!” George said. “Don’t play the fools! We’re talking about serious things here! So, in the ancient document that we miraculously snatched from the waters of the sea, the whole story of Oak Farm and its chapel was told. Now you will be curious to know the content of the document. But it didn’t seem right to us that, without any effort on your part, we let you read such an important text to find which William and I have endured months of sailing under the tropical sun and faced the dangers of the savages of the South Seas and the toil of underwater fishing. We have therefore decided that you too must face a very challenging test in order to be able to read the document. On the other hand, thanks to a providential case, as a result of problems difficult to explain, it happened that the precious manuscript was lost in the bush that extends along the sides of the hill on whose top the chapel is built.

“Fortunately, we were able to locate the secret location where the document should be. However, the location is not easy. It may be reconstructed only by means of four fragments of a manuscript sheet which are to be put back together and whose encrypted writing is to be interpreted by means of a difficult reading key, which in turn can only be derived from the combination of all four fragments.

“Therefore, four groups of nine scouts each will be formed and tomorrow morning a boy from each group will be handed over one of the fragments of the sheet in which the location of the document is located. None of the rival groups has to know who’s the boy or girl who has received the fragment. The groups will disperse through the bush and each will commit to putting together the various fragments. When two or more scouts from two rival groups meet, you will perform a tail fight. The scout who loses, if he or she’s the keeper of the fragment, has to hand it over to the winner. If he or she doesn’t have the fragment, he or she has to tell the winner the name of the boy or the girl in his group who has it in custody. The scout who manages to put together the four fragments, to decipher the message and find the document, must reach the chapel at the top of the hill and must ring the bell wildly. But before you get to ring the bell your tail can be grabbed in turn. In that case you must deliver the document to the winner. When the bell rings, everyone must run to the chapel. Then whoever has the document will read the story of Oak Farm to everyone. All clear?”

“How many complications!”

“Wasn’t it easier just to tell us the story?”

“It would have been faster for us to go to the South Seas ourselves!”

“David! Get out the document! I know you have it!”

When the excitement calmed down, George divided the scouts into four groups, appointed the group leaders and charged them with choosing the consignee of the fragment without letting the boys of the rival groups know the name.

After other formalities and recommendations and after the recitation of the evening prayers, all retreated to their tents for the night.

The next morning, after cleaning, prayer and breakfast, George gave the fragments to the group leaders, who in turn chose their consignee. Then they all went to the hill on whose top stood the chapel.

The day was good, although some clouds covered the sun from time to time. The air was fresh and everyone was excited about the game they were preparing to face. At the foot of the hill, the four groups dispersed into the bush in various directions.

Vittoria was the consignee of the fragment entrusted to her group, of which, of course, Margaret was also a part. The two girls went along laughing in a path that went up towards the chapel. Arriving in a clearing, they stopped and sat down to catch their breath and try to imagine a game strategy.

“Perhaps” Margaret said, “we’d better hide somewhere and wait for the passage of a comrade from a rival group. If we drop in on him suddenly, we may have a certain fighting advantage”.

“The idea is not bad,” replied Vittoria. “Where can we hide?”

“Look at that bush there. It seems like a good shelter. But make sure, let me fight. You have the document and if you are won you have to hand it over”.

“Well! We’ll see. In my department they say I’m unbeatable”.

“Eh, but here are some champs you have no idea!”

At that moment appeared Jill, a girl who was part of their group.

“Margaret!” she said. “Come now, the leader is looking for you”.

“I’m coming!” Margaret answered. “You Vittoria hide and don’t let anyone see you. Wait for me to come back”.

“All right. Don’t worry”.

But as soon as the two girls got away, David, who was part of another group, came out of the bushes.

“Then you have the document!” he exclaimed. “I heard it all from behind the bush”.

“Damn! Then beware!” replied Vittoria, all excited, putting herself in combat position.

Each of them had a handkerchief tucked into their belts behind their backs. According to the rules of the tail, the two, using one hand, had to try to grab the handkerchief from behind the back of the other. The one who managed to had to shout: “Got it!” and won the fight. The loser could no longer put on a tail and was eliminated from the game.

Vittoria soon noticed that David was great, but did not get scared. She too was doing very well and in his department was one of the best.

The two faced each other for a long time, without either of them being able to prevail.

After several minutes of fighting they felt very tired and David said:

“Look, let’s make a stop. I can’t take it anymore!”

“All right. Let’s get some rest and then we’ll get back”.

“Let’s go sit under that tree”.

       But as they set out, David suddenly reached out to grab Vittoria’s tail. Fortunately, she noticed it in time and, making a leap to the side, managed to subtract the tail from the grip of the opponent.

“Rascal!” she shouted angrily. “Would this be the English fair play?”

“Watch your mouth!” replied David, pretending to be offended.

“And you look after yourself!”

So the girl rushed like a fury towards the opponent and, falling cleverly to the side, tore off his tail.

“Got it!” cried she with joy.

“Naughty! You got me!” exclaimed David laughing.

“It serves you right!”

“All right, all right! Now don’t tell everyone.”

“Well! For this time I forgive you. Meanwhile give me the fragment, or tell me who has it”.

“You’re lucky. I’ve got it! There it is!” and laughing he handed her the paper.

“Thank you! See you later”.

“See you later, and good luck!”

Vittoria ran away in search of Margaret.

Meanwhile, Margaret, after being informed by the group leader that Emily had one of the fragments, was returning to the place where she had left Vittoria, in the company of Tom, a skinny and short-sized boy with a shy and insecure appearance. They met along a path in the middle of the bush and Vittoria, all excited, told her that she had come into possession of a fragment guarded by one of the rival groups, but overlooked David’s disloyal behavior.

“Bravo!” exclaimed Margaret no less excited than her friend. “Now we have to track down Emily. Let’s split up and go each in a different direction. If anyone can get the fragment, it would be better turn it over to you. And in fact, it is better that we meet in half an hour at the fountain along the road that goes directly to the chapel”.

“Very well!” said Vittoria and Tom.

Vittoria retraced her steps, while Margaret and Tom headed one up and the other down.

Tom was a little anxious. Despite his shyness he did well in the tail, but he was a bit afraid of having to face the fight alone. Soon after he met Jill, who came up to him all excited and said:

“I knew that James has the other fragment. Be careful though if you meet him: that is terrible!”

“I really hope I don’t meet him”.

“Hey! You two!” a voice rang behind them. “Ready to fight! One after the other though!”

They turned around and saw Emily, a rather strong and very confident girl.

“Stay back!” said Jill to Tom, and she prepared to face her opponent.

Emily was great and in a few minutes prevailed over the other girl.

“Got it!” she exclaimed. “Now take out the fragment!”

“I don’t have it!” Jill laughed.

“Who has it?”

“Vittoria”.

“Good! Then I’ll go find her. In the meantime, kid, come forward!”

Tom prepared to face the fight rather scared. In front of Emily he looked like a pygmy. The girl assaulted him like a fury, but Tom, without losing his temper blocked the blow and pulled back watching her carefully. Emily was skillful, but placed all her trust in the fear that infused her swift and violent attacks, made more effective by her sturdy build. Tom, on the other hand, was very cautious and thoughtful, and studied his opponent’s moves well.

“If when she attacks me” he thought, “instead of getting nervous, I remain calm and turn slightly to my side, she doesn’t get to take my tail. So I make her tired. Meanwhile I wait for a moment in which she gets distracted”.

His method worked. Emily kept attacking him violently, but she could never reach the tail. This irritated her and made her nervous, while at the same time her strength was diminishing. Always watching her carefully, Tom noticed, at a certain point, that the girl, irritated by the uselessness of her efforts, had raised her left arm with a gesture of anger. With a swift move, he shoved his right arm into the unprotected space on Emily’s left flank and tore off her tail.

“Got it!” exclaimed Tom, as Jill clapped her hands and shouted “Bravo! You did it!”

“Damn!” said Emily, annoyed. “Let a kid like you win me over!”

But then immediately she burst into a thunderous laughter.

“Bravo Tom!” she exclaimed. “Who would have thought! Here is the fragment!”

She handed him the paper and Tom put it in his pocket and ran down the path in search of Vittoria.

As he made his way to where he thought he could find her, he ran into Margaret and told her about her prowess with Emily.

“Bravo Tom, you’re great!”

“Hey, you, over there!” somebody was heard shouting.

It was James approaching them.

“Soon Tom!” said Margaret. “Give me the fragment. You know that James is terrible. I run and go to the fountain. You keep him. If you see Vittoria, tell her to meet me there”.

“Well!” said Tom, and gave her the fragment without James seeing it.

Before he arrived, Margaret ran away, while Tom met his opponent.

“Get out of my way!” exclaimed James. “I’m not going with you! Margaret! Chicken! Go back”.

“Are you not going with me or are you scared?” said Tom on purpose to provoke James.

The trick was successful.

“I’m afraid of you?! I’ll show you how scared I am!”

“Instead of bragging to the little ones, fight with me!” they heard shouting behind their back.

James turned angry and saw Vittoria approaching at great pace.

“There you are at last!” exclaimed James”. I know you have the fragment! You’re fried!”

“Don’t sing victory too soon,” said the girl, and prepared for combat.

As Tom retreated and watched them scared and anxious, the two began to confront each other. Vittoria quickly noticed that James was left-handed. This was a great advantage for him, because the other fighter was not accustomed to a left-handed opponent. He was also tall and robust and his movements were very fast.

James snapped his left arm around Vittoria’s right arm and the girl instinctively moved her arm outwards to close the shot. But with a sudden move, James deflected the trajectory of his left and slipped it between the girl’s raised right arm and her side. It was only by jumping back that Vittoria miraculously saved the tail.

Meanwhile, she understood the opponent’s tactics. She understood that she always had to keep her right arm tight to her body so that she would never leave the free space exposed to James’s left lunge. The thing was not easy, because the lunge of James’s arm instinctively provoked, as a defense movement, the lunge of the opponent’s right arm outwards.

Vittoria put all her concentration into avoiding this instinctive movement. At the same time she closely watched the lunges of James’s left arm waiting for the appropriate time. Soon it showed up. As usual, James fired with his left arm outwards, believing he was causing a similar movement in the girl. But this time his outburst was wider than usual, perhaps because with his previous movements he had not achieved the desired effect. Vittoria immediately threw herself forward with her whole body and put her right arm into the space between James’ left and side. Her fingers grabbed the opponent’s tail and with the prey triumphantly in her hand the girl went to roll with a somersault in the grass.

“Got it!” cried she with joy.

“Bravo!” shouted Tom and James together.

“You’re great!” James smiled. “Here’s the fragment!”

He handed her the paper and walked away shaking his head and laughing to his heart’s content.

“Soon!” said Tom. “Margaret is waiting for you at the fountain. She’s holding the other fragment!”

“Wow! Then we won!”

“Not yet! Now we have to decipher the message and find the document”.

“Good! The most is done! But let’s not sing victory yet”.

And they rushed to the fountain.

The chapel on the hill

          The fountain was located along the main road, a hundred meters from the chapel. From a metal pipe fresh water flowed without interruption in a large stone basin, on which here and there were large patches of moss. Above the fountain stretched the branches of the nearby trees.

When Tom and Vittoria arrived near the spring, they saw no one.

“Where is Margaret?!” asked Vittoria.

“Here I am! Here I am!” she heard screaming, and Margaret came out of a bush by the fountain.

“I hid here to avoid bad surprises!” she said.

“Soon! Soon,” exclaimed Vittoria. “We have all the fragments and we must decipher the message before others arrive!”

“Really?! After you will tell me. So let’s see!”

They took the fragments and approached them. The puzzle, of only four elements, was very easy to recompose, but the resulting text did not make any sense. At the edge of the four fragments, the key to reading was explained in four distinct parts. Recomposing it, one read:

“Five more letters each letter”.

“What does that mean?” asked Vittoria.

“It’s easy” Tom replied. “If for example there is an A, to find the right letter you have to count five letters in alphabetical order. So: after the A you count: B, C, D, E, F. Each A is actually an F. And so for the other letters”.

“Well!” said Margaret. “So let’s make it quick!”

Applying the reading key, the following text emerged:

“Where will the ancient document be? At the fountain is there no bird cage?”

“I see no birds!” exclaimed Vittoria.

“It doesn’t say that there must be birds” Tom thought carefully about the text of the message. “It’s about a bird cage. Even if there are no birds, there should be a cage”.

“Sure!” Margaret intervened. “There it is!” and pointed to a small empty cage hanging from a tree branch.

“I’ll go!” said Tom, and he quickly climbed up the tree like a squirrel. He reached the cage, opened it and searched the interior until he found some sheets artificially yellowed to the fire.

“Behold! Here is the document,” he exclaimed.

“Shut up!” cried Vittoria. “Don’t be heard”.

Too late! A boy and a girl from a rival group were approaching and as soon as they heard Tom’s scream they ran to the fountain.

Tom soon recovered his cool head.

“Hurry, Vittoria!” he said, handing his papers from the tree. “Run to the chapel, while we hold the adversaries!”

Vittoria grabbed the document and ran to the chapel. Meanwhile, the two young people of the rival group had arrived at the fountain and, while Tom was still on the tree and Margaret faced the boy, the girl started to chase Vittoria along the climb.

Vittoria noticed that she was being chased and doubled the race, but she was tired and felt the opposing girl gaining ground behind her. She tried to put it all into it. Just a few meters from the chapel she heard behind her a cry of triumph:

“Got it!”

She turned pale and turned her hand to her back.

With a sigh of relief she found that her tail was still in its place, while a meter away Margaret triumphantly brandished the tail of the opposing girl, who had turned her arms out in defeat. Tom, in fact, had immediately descended from the tree and freed Margaret from the other group’s fighter, so that the girl could immediately run to Vittoria’s aid.

“Hurry! Hurry!” cried Margaret. “To the bell!”

Beside the chapel’s entrance door was a rope hanging from the ceiling. Vittoria crossed the few meters that still separated her from the goal and grabbed the rope pulling it with all her strength.

The bell was heavy and pulling the rope required considerable effort, but it was also very loud, and soon its festive sound spread throughout the countryside.

Little by little, all the scouts gathered around the chapel and soon after, George and William arrived.

“Bravo Vittoria!” George said. “Did you find the document?! That’s enough: you’ve rung enough! So, kids! Let’s all gather in order in the chapel and the winning group will let us know its history”.

The scouts entered the sacred building and arranged themselves in the desks chatting with each other animatedly.

“Silence!” said William standing in the presbytery facing the audience. “It is up to Julian, the leader of the winning group, to read the history of the chapel and Oak Farm. Julian, get the document from Vittoria and come here. You come too, Vittoria”.

The two young people reached the presbytery with a radiant face for the joy of victory.

“Give it up for Vittoria!” exclaimed William, and all applauded warmly, while the girl, red in face and smiling, bowed in gratitude.

“Now in silence” William continued, “let us hear the reading of the document”.

Julian opened the papers and read:

“The foundation of the Chapel of St James and Oak Farm dates back to 1791, when the pastor of the Church of Wales, Richard Baker, wanted to invest all his patrimony to create a center of prayer and Christian life in this region.

“Having overcome many obstacles on the part of his family and the landowners of the area, he finally managed to buy a large land dominated by a wooded hill. With the help of a relative, a valid architect, in the space of a few years he built a residence building in the plain and a chapel, dedicated to the Apostle Saint James, on top of the hill.

“Soon the residence became a prosperous farm, in which many young people of the place found a job. At the same time Richard Baker was zealously carrying out his mission as pastor, attracting to faith and prayer the local people. His friendliness, respectful and warmly treatment towards the farm employees, his tireless solicitude for the poor and the suffering and his readiness for the problems of all attracted universal benevolence to him and this served to consolidate the faith and practice of Christian life among the local people.

“When he died in 1817, he was succeeded in the ministry and ownership of the farm and the chapel by his two sons James and John. Emulating their father, the two young shepherds consolidated the fruit of their father’s work. But after a few years John, the younger of the two brothers, feeling superfluous in the administration of the farm and pastoral work, decided to bring the contribution of his activity in the British colonies.

“In 1825 he embarked for the island of Ceylon, where he was entrusted with a parish in the area of Kandy. The memory of Pastor John Baker will always remain etched in the memory of the Ceylonese farmers of coffee plantations, and later of tea, of the territory of his parish. He soon realized the very serious injustice that British legislation was perpetrating against the local population and tried to intervene.

“The British Government, relying on rules of European law, which were completely unrelated to local traditions, demanded that the properties of the crops, handed down from time immemorial in the local families, be attested by written documents. In the absence of the required documentation, the government considered it its right to expropriate the land and convert it into crown-owned plantations, or to sell it back to wealthy settlers of the United Kingdom.

“Faced with this blatant injustice, John Baker strongly protested to the local government, but did not obtain any results. After years of vain insistence on his struggle, he finally decided to return home to confront the leaders of the central government directly.

“Having arrived in London after an adventurous journey, in which he risked losing his life, he had difficulty obtaining a meeting with the minister in charge of colonial affairs. The conversation lasted a long time and the minister tried to make John Baker understand that British colonial policy could not be upset by the protests of a pastor. But John was not intimidated and, by supplications, reproaches and appeals to the Christian conscience of his interlocutor, he finally managed to get that at least in the territory of his parish the expropriation was not applied. He wanted to achieve much more, but he understood that with further insistence he would risk losing even the little that was granted him.

“After a very cordial visit to his brother James, John departed for the island of Ceylon, where he was triumphantly welcomed by the farmers of his parish, who had already been informed of the success of his mission. A tombstone, which you can read on the wall to your left, still remembers the meritorious work of John Baker.

“After the death of the two brothers – James died in 1851 and John in 1859 – the ownership of the farm passed to their descendants, who, mindful of the virtues of their ancestors, exercised almost all praiseworthy pastoral office until the seventies of the last century. Later, the farm, which remained the property of the Baker family, was reorganized according to ecological farming criteria and given over to a group of young people who reside there permanently, while the religious activity of the chapel is now supervised by pastors sent directly from the Church of Cardiff”.

When Julian finished reading the document, William spoke again.

“Well,” he said. “It must be added that the chapel is also an architectural gem. Now then, without confusion, you can get up and turn around the building, inside and outside, so you can better appreciate the work of our good shepherds”.

The scouts stood up and commented on Julian’s narrative.

“One had to go and look for this information in the South Seas!?”

“Colonialism! Such bad stories!”

“A fairly trivial story! I expected who knows what!”

“I would have gone to London instead of John Baker!”

Margaret had immediately reached Vittoria and the two girls, after asking William for more information, began to turn around the chapel to better appreciate its architectural structure.

It was indeed a beautiful building. Its very location on top of the hill rich in vegetation was delightful. Getting out from the door of the church, one could gaze upon an enchanting panorama, with woods, fields, pastures and farmhouses scattered throughout the Welsh countryside. The bush rose up the hill to frame the chapel of a crown of tall trees, which shadowed the entrance of the sacred building and all the surrounding land.

Inside the chapel the architecture was very pleasant. Marble pilasters descended along the walls at regular distance from each other and at the center of each space there was a tombstone reminiscent of memorable episodes and important characters of the Baker family. The benches were artistically built with oak wood and occupied the only nave of the building up to the presbytery, dominated by an artistic lectern and an altar of white marble. To the right of the altar the reeds of a small organ were displayed.

Margaret and Vittoria walked the entire perimeter of the church observing the trim of the walls and pilasters and reading the tombstones with interest.

“Look,” said Vittoria at one point. “Shouldn’t this chapel be ancient?”

“Certainly. That’s what the narrative says”.

“But it doesn’t look old to me. Look at that tombstone of John Baker. The language is ancient, but the marble seems recent. And so is everything else”

“It’s true! I didn’t notice!”

“Actually I heard about restorations, at least down at the farm. But I didn’t think they had redone everything new! We see that they have made an effort to do an accurate work and to reproduce antiquity. However, looking closely we see that it is not original”.

“Who knows! Let’s try to ask William”.

The two girls went looking for William and found him at the entrance of the chapel.

“How do you explain” Vittoria asked “that the chapel seems newly rebuilt?”

“Newly rebuilt?” asked William, astonished.

“Yes! Look carefully. Those marbles are not ancient”.

William looked around carefully.

“Indeed it is true. I knew that some restorations had been done, but I did not believe up to this point.”

“Who can we ask for more?” asked Vittoria, curious.

“The only person to ask is the owner of Oak Farm”.

“And where is he or she?”

“Oak Farm, of course”.

“Aren’t there any boys and girls there?”

“In the addictions. But in the manor house there is the owner, Mrs. Baker”.

“Do you think we could go see her and ask her some questions?”

“I think so. Why not?!”

“Shall we go in the afternoon?” Vittoria asked Margaret.

“Of course!”

Mrs. Baker

          Late that afternoon, Margaret and Vittoria entered the front lawn of Oak Farm. Two guys were working at a warehouse.

“Good evening!” said one of them. “Do you need anything?”

“We’d like to speak to Mrs Baker, if that’s possible” Margaret replied.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Actually, not at all”.

“Let’s see. Come with me”.

The young man went to the manor house followed by the two girls.

Arriving at the entrance door the young man rang the bell and shortly after the door opened and appeared on the threshold a very distinguished-looking lady in her fifties.

“Good evening Mark,” he said. “Who are these ladies?”

“Good evening. They are two girls of the Reading Scouts. They would like to talk to you”.

“Please, girls. Come in”.

“We don’t want to disturb you,” said Margaret.

“Oh, there’s no problem. I’m happy to talk to someone. I’m always alone!”

Mark nodded and walked away, as the girls sat in the living room of the manor house.

The house was very nice: the furniture was chosen with taste and abounded traditional ornaments and family memories.

“Please, girls. Sit in those chairs. I’ll be right there” said the lady, and she left to come back after a few minutes with some cups and a teapot.

“Would you like?”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said the two girls.

“But” added Margaret “it’s good that we introduce ourselves. I’m Margaret Temple and she’s Vittoria Castelli. She’s from Italy, but she speaks good English”.

“Pleased” said the lady smiling. “How much I would like to visit Italy! Venice! Is it true that it is the most beautiful city in the world?”

“I really don’t know!” replied Vittoria laughing.

“But let’s leave it alone” said the Lady. “To what do I owe your welcome visit?”

“This morning” Margaret replied, “we went to St James’ Chapel and there they told us the whole story of Oak Farm. But, by visiting the place better, we realized that the building was recently redone. Then we were curious to know why the chapel was rebuilt. Of course we do not want to be indiscreet. But we were told that you could give us all the necessary information”.

The lady’s face became stiff, and in her eyes appeared an expression of sadness. She remained for a few minutes in silence, then said:

“It’s a long and painful story, which I never tell to strangers. But you inspire me confidence and I feel tempted to tell you everything, if you have patience to listen to me”.

“Madam” intervened Vittoria. “We do not want in any way to interfere in your private affairs!”

“Don’t worry, dear!” said the lady smiling lovingly. “I see that you are good girls and I don’t feel like considering you strangers. Do you have the patience to listen to me?”

“Of course!”

“So listen up.

“My father was the last pastor of the Baker family. He and my mother would have liked my brother to continue this tradition, but unfortunately things went differently. My brother Richard – the name was supposed to be a program! – since he was a boy turned out to be a rebellious and impatient character. It got worse when, at the age of eighteen, he got involved with a youth music ensemble and ended up moving further and further away from the family’s feelings.

“After my father’s death the situation quickly deteriorated. My brother led a very messy life and gave much sorrow to my mother, who always prayed for him and tried to get him messages to call him back on the right path. She hoped that the parable of the prodigal son would come true for him. But it was not so.

“Richard showed up at the house just to ask for money and soon we knew he was taking drugs. My mother fell into a severe depression. She was desperate, and she no longer knew what to do. I tried in every way to support her and to instill confidence in her, but I did not reach anything. Until one day the tragedy happened.

“I was not at home when my brother showed up with a dozen friends armed with iron bars. They all must have been drunk. When my mother saw that team enter her home, she almost died of fright. She began to beg Richard to send his friends away, told him to come to his senses, to repent. Didn’t he know how much she was suffering and praying for him?

“To hear of prayer Richard lost the light of reason. He began to rant against his mother and against the hypocrisy of his religion. Then he openly declared that he and his friends had come to do justice to a family tradition of which he was ashamed and, under the terrified eyes of my mother, with iron bars they wrecked the whole house: furniture, paintings, glass, family memories… It was a massacre, which was repeated shortly after in the chapel on the hill. Nay, they did worse there: they did not spare even the walls.

“After this stunt, they emptied the bottles of liquor that they found in the house and left cheerfully and satisfied, leaving my mother half dead by the fear and the anguish to see everything dearest fiercely destroyed by her own son.

“When I returned home I found complete desolation and my mother lying on the ground almost in agony. I rushed to rescue her, trying to give her courage, but she didn’t even answer me. When I spoke to her about God, she shook her head sadly and said: no, I no longer believe in God! Everything has been taken from me! All I had most dear! I die desperate! Abandoned by everyone and everything!

“Mother, I told her, why are you so ungrateful?! How can you say that everything has been taken from you? Am I not with you? The Lord has not left you me? Am I not dear to you? Am I not worth more to you than all earthly goods?

“My mother burst into tears and cried out among the sobs: yes, Elizabeth, yes! There is you and you are everything to me! Forgive me! Forgive me Lord for my blasphemies! Yes, it is true, you left me my daughter and I am ungrateful! I believe, Lord, and I will never again deny you!

“Mother, I said, come on! I promise you that, with God’s help, I will put everything back. I will dedicate my whole life to rebuilding our destroyed heritage. And one day you will see everything as before, better than before!

“Thank you, Elizabeth, she answered me. I know that you will do what you promised, but I will not see it. My life is over now. I feel that my heart does not hold. But I die content knowing that there is you and that this dear property, which has seen so many holy shepherds with their families, will be restored.

“I immediately hospitalized my mother and dedicated myself to her body and soul. But there was nothing to do. After a few days my mother died. Thankfully, his death was serene, enlivened by the thought that one day Oak Farm and its chapel would rise from ruin.

“Richard didn’t even bother to come to Mom’s funeral. But I worked so that he and his friends wouldn’t have any trouble with justice. Being a private property, with some difficulty they managed to get off easy. Then for a long time I didn’t know anything about him, until I heard the news that he was sick with AIDS and that he was hospitalized in a Chelsea nursing home…”

“Sick with AIDS!?” exclaimed Vittoria interrupting the story of the lady. “Does her brother have a son named John?”

“Yes! Indeed. How do you know?”

“I met a boy of this name these days, who told me that his father died of AIDS”.

“It must be he, of course. But then I knew nothing of his existence. My brother’s personal life was a mystery to me.

“When I heard he was dying, I immediately went to see him in Chelsea. But as soon as he saw me, he started insulting me by telling me to go away and leave him alone.

“I know you hate me, he said. But I don’t care.

“I don’t hate you at all, I told him. You are my brother and I always pray for you.

“As soon as I spoke to him of prayer, he became a beast. Go away! he cried. Go away!

“I tried to reason with him, but seeing that there was nothing to do, I finally went to the door.

“When I was about to leave I heard him call: Elizabeth! His voice had become weak and dim. It seemed that the effort had exhausted him. I looked at him and saw his cadaveric face, reduced to skin and bones, looking at me with almost appealing expression. Goodbye! He murmured. Goodbye Richard! I told him with affection. I never saw him again. A few days later I heard the news of his death.

“Meanwhile, I was working hard to restore the property. I dedicated the best years of my life to this work. I also gave up marrying so I could more freely fulfill my mission. I asked for help from the state, the Church, public and private institutions. I also went several times to America to seek financial aid. I graduated in architecture so I could personally follow the work.

“It was an exhausting struggle, but in the end I managed to keep the promise I made to my dying mother. Oak Farm was fully restored and the Chapel of St James was rebuilt exactly as it was before.

“But at this point there was a completely unexpected novelty. When everything was over and I was wondering how to manage the house alone with the land, I was introduced to a young man who said he was my nephew. I don’t remember having nephews, I told him. He then told me that my brother Richard had a child with a girl he met by chance in a nightclub.

“His parents had in fact abandoned him and he had grown up with his maternal grandparents. But with them a real affection had never been created. He told me that for some time he had followed the example of his father, but without reaching the drugs or excess of alcohol. But recently it had been conquered by ecological thinking and the desire to return to nature. For this he had formulated the plan to plant an ecological farm in the property of Oak Farm. He asked me what I thought.

“I was very puzzled and told him that I needed time to think. In the meantime I wanted to make some things clear. Let him not tell me about the Goddess Gaia or the mysticism of Nature, or secret energies, or pseudo-oriental cults, because otherwise the speech would end there.

“He laughed and told me that he did not want to hear about mysticism, in any form, neither Western nor Eastern, nor ancient nor modern, nor theist nor pantheist. My favorite author, he said, is David Thoreau, who, to the shepherd who on his deathbed spoke to him of eternal life, replied: one life at a time! So on this point, I could rest easy.

“I told him that Thoreau’s answer did not seem to me particularly intelligent, but that in any case what he had told me seemed reassuring.

“We agreed that we would meet again after two days, so that I would have time to consider the question.

“When he came back I gave him a very clear speech. I am not opposed, I told him, to entrust Oak Farm to a group of young people with serious intentions of establishing an ecological farm. But I must stress that the boys and girls who want to live here must be regularly married. I don’t allow transient couples, promiscuity, immoral clothes and behavior. I don’t compromise on this. If you don’t like it, we don’t do anything about it.

“He remained thoughtful for a long time. Then he said that it seemed problematic to him, but that he could not now say the last word. He needed to think about it and talk to his friends. We made an appointment for the following week. When he came he told me that he had spoken to his friends. Most of them had not even considered the hypothesis. But four of them, after talking at length with their girls, finally decided to accept. If it was OK for me, at a date to be determined they would present with the relevant marriage certificates and would ensure a moral and respectful behavior, and of course a more than good management of the farm. But, he added, I’m not one of those four. That’s why he proposed a compromise solution. Those who, like him, did not feel comfortable living in a stable marital relationship, asked for permission to spend, as single, more or less long periods of residence at Oak Farm, promising not to disturb the morality of resident couples.

“I understood that I had to give something, and on the other hand his request seemed reasonable. I immediately agreed, and so after a few days we started the practices to organize the new farm.

“At first we made an experimental arrangement. After a year, seeing that things were going well and that the young families were quiet and working hard, we reached a definitive agreement. It is now three and a half years since we have settled everything in a stable way, and I must say that I am very satisfied. Other young people also came and I see that they are happy. The situation of my nephew still upsets me: although he had the idea, he remains on the sidelines of the business and so he really risks following the example of his father”.

“I’m sorry, poor boy!” said Vittoria. “The story you told us is really very tragic. But you did a wonderful job!  To put in order such a vast heritage with the sacrifice of all life! But it was worth it: it is a wonderful place! And in the end it was the salvation for a nice group of young people”.

The lady looked at her smiling with air at the same time proud and modest.

“I did my best” she said. “It was my duty”.

“Thank you, madam, for the things you have told us and for the time you have given us” said Margaret. “We will return to see you before we leave. But now we better go. We don’t want to be too late to the camp”.

“I’m sorry you’re leaving so soon” the lady answered and stood up to the door. “I hope you keep your promise to come and see me again”.

“You can count on it!” Margaret answered.

The two girls greeted the lady warmly, they left the manor house and rushed to the scout camp.

The day before

          “Unfortunately we have come to the end! Tomorrow we leave again!” Vittoria sadly exclaimed as she left the tent.

The afternoon was late and the scouts were all busy packing the camp material and packing for the departure.

“Come on, don’t be sad!” Margaret said, trying to give her courage. “We still have several hours to spend together. And then we will certainly see each other soon”.

“That we will meet again is certain! How can I be without you? But I doubt it is soon! Soon school begins. Can you imagine what a joy?! I’d like to stay here to live in Oak Farm!”

“By the way! We have not yet kept our word to visit Mrs. Baker!”

“You’re right, damn it! Let’s go now, otherwise there’s no more time”.

The two girls rushed to George for permission and then rushed to the farm.

“Do you know that I would really like to live at Oak Farm?” Vittoria said as they were speeding down the path.

“I wouldn’t mind too. But we have time to think about it”.

“Here’s the farm! It’s just a beautiful place!”

They entered the gate, and Vittoria trembled.

“Look at that boy over there!” she exclaimed. “He is Mrs. Baker’s nephew!”

Margaret looked with curiosity in the direction indicated. John was lying on the grass under a tree and seemed intent on contemplating the sky.

“I’d like to go and say hello” said Vittoria.

“Are you sure you should be? Be careful!”

Vittoria took her by the hand and looked into her eyes.

“Margaret” said. “Do you remember the oath we took on the bus?”

Margaret blushed and lowered her eyes confused.

“Yes, you’re right! Let’s say hello!”

The two girls approached John, who as soon as he saw them, immediately stood up and looked at them with surprise and embarrassment.

“Oh, Vittoria! What a surprise! I didn’t think we’d see each other again!”

“Hello, John! Meet my friend Margaret”.

“Nice to meet you” John said, looking at Margaret with curiosity. “Why are you here?”

“Tomorrow we leave,” replied Vittoria, “and we came to greet Mrs. Baker.

John looked at her puzzled.

“Do you know her?” he asked.

“Yes. The other day we paid her a visit. She’s a very good person!”

“Well, yes, in her own way she has her numbers! So tomorrow you leave!?”

“Yes. We’re really sorry”.

“I shouldn’t say it, maybe, but… I’m sorry too”.

“Who knows if one day we’ll be back! It’s such a beautiful place! Why instead of coming here only sometimes you do not stay here forever?”

“It would be nice, wouldn’t it?” John replied with a sigh, looking at Vittoria with an enigmatic look. “But it is a privilege that is not given to everyone”.

“Why?” intervened Margaret. “There are so many young people here! Wouldn’t you be comfortable with them?”

“Well! I can’t explain some of my personal problems! Anyway, thanks for the advice: I will think about it. Meanwhile I greet you and I wish you a good trip. I hope you will come back sometime”.

“Maybe!” Vittoria replied. “But now we must go and say goodbye to Mrs. Baker. Then we will come and say goodbye again”.

“Well! If you find me still here, fine. Otherwise we say goodbye now”.

Vittoria handed him her hand.

“Come on, don’t be a freak! Wait for us!”

John shook her hand and looked at her with embarrassment.

“Do you really care?!

“Of course!”

“You don’t know me very well!”

“Oh, stop! Do you really want to play the ogre?”

All three of them laughed.

“Good idea!” said John. “I wouldn’t mind devouring some Christians!”

“But  start after we leave!” Margaret laughed.

“All right, all right! Then I’ll wait for you!”

After a final farewell the two girls left him heading towards the entrance of the manor house.

John watched them walk away with melancholy air.

That Italian girl had something special that enchanted him. He had often thought of her after their first meeting and now she had presented herself to him so unexpectedly! She was kind enough to come and greet him and insist that he wait for her. But he had no illusions: between him and her there was an impassable abyss.

He put his hands in his pocket and began to walk in the meadow.

Yes, he had to admit it: he really fell in love with her! But he had to ignore it and keep it all inside.

He turned to look at the manor house.

“Vittoria is there! So close! But for so little time! Soon she will go away and I will never see her again! And she will never know what I feel for her! And even if she did, what would she care? In fact, she would run away before the time! There is nothing to do! I have to keep my despair inside without showing it. They must think I’m just an ogre, that I don’t care about anything! So if she thinks of me she will have a laugh, and I hope that at least she thinks: but as ogre is not unpleasant!

“It’s nice of her to come and say hello to me! Oh, my! Why have I so many illusions! Why should a petite bourgeoise like her care about a wild one like me? No, the abyss cannot be crossed! As she does not accept my way of life, so I would never accept her! Never! For nothing in the world! Not even for love!”

He remained thoughtful for a long time with his gaze fixed on the ground.

“If at least she knew it! But what good would it do? Maybe sometimes she would think of me! Maybe she would say a prayer for me! But what am I saying! Am I crazy?! A prayer for me! What do I do with it! No! It’s better that I don’t say anything! It wouldn’t be good for me and it might hurt her. No! I don’t want to hurt her! Even if I look like an ogre! No! I’m not an ogre! I don’t want to hurt anyone! And I don’t want to hurt her!

“Maybe it’s better that I go! Meeting her again would be too painful, and even dangerous. I could say things I don’t have to say. I could make her suffer. I don’t want to make her suffer!

“Yes! I’m leaving. They’ll think I had a setback and it’ll all end there. What do they care about me?

“I think it’s the best solution. If I don’t see her again it’s better. I won’t think about it anymore tomorrow”.

He went to the front gate. But at that moment the door of the manor house was opened and the ringing voices of the two girls greeting Mrs. Baker were heard.

“Goodbye! Thank you! We hope to visit you again!”

“Thank you girls! I was very happy to meet you. I wish you a good trip and hope to see you again soon!”

The door was closed and the joyful laughter of Vittoria was heard, exclaiming:

“Where did John go?!”

The young man turned and retraced his steps.

“Here I am! I’m here!”

The girls ran towards him.

“Your lovely aunt!” exclaimed Vittoria.

“Ah! She told you she’s my aunt?”

“Yes. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, nothing! Just that we are very different and everyone is on his and her own”.

“You could visit her more often. It’s so good!”

John looked at Vittoria enigmatically and remained silent for a long time.

Vittoria felt troubled. To overcome the embarrassment she said:

“So now we say goodbye!”

“Yes,” replied John in a strangely calm voice. “But first I’d like to tell you something. I don’t care if your friend also hears me.

“Vittoria… I… would like to make you a promise. Yes… really… I promise I will seriously think about what you told me… I will see if I can manage to come to live permanently here with my aunt. I know it will not be easy for me. But I will think about it seriously. And I’m going to do this because I feel like I’ve changed. I never would have done it before I met you. But now something is pushing me to do it. And I also promise you that I will try to consider religion without any more prejudicial rejections, even if for me it is still all a mystery. That’s why I’m asking you… this is gonna sound strange to you… but I’m asking you… to pray for me so I can find a way to live here. I want to do it… I promise I will try to do it… I promise… I will do it for… for you… for your sake! But I’m sorry! Forgive me if I tell you these things! I would never want to hurt you!”

Vittoria looked at him touched.

“No, John! You do not hurt me! I sincerely hope that you will be able to realize this project! And I will help you with my prayer! You will see that a new path will open up for you, a destiny you had never thought of before. Margaret will also pray for you. You don’t know how close we are!”

“Sure, John!” Margaret said. “We’ll be there for you and expect to hear the good news soon that you’ll be settled in Oak Farm!”

“Thank you!” exclaimed John, holding the hands of the two girls. “Goodbye!”

“Don’t say goodbye! We’ll see you again!” replied Vittoria smiling.

After a long handshake, the two girls went to the scout camp making a final sign of greeting.

John remained for a long time watching the two young women walking away. Then he turned to the manor house and, after a brief delay, approached the front door.

The bell rang, and shortly afterwards Mrs. Baker appeared on the doorstep.

“John!” she exclaimed. “Why are you here? Come on, come on in!”

“Thank you, Aunt. I need to talk to you”.

“Come, come, come in!”

They sat down in the living room and John, after a moment of silence, said:

“I would like to ask you something: if I decided to marry regularly, as my friends did, would you accept me as a regular guest at Oak Farm?”

“Do you ask? It’s just what I want! So have you finally found the right person for you?”

“No, Aunt. Not yet. But I hope to find it somehow”.

“If you look for her in the circles you’re in, I’m afraid you’ll never find her. Look for her in different milieus, among girls of good family…”

“No, auntie, I don’t want it! A girl from a good family would never want to know about me. And frankly, I’m not attracted to her at all. I prefer to look for it in my milieu. I know it’s difficult, but it’s not impossible. You saw that my friends found them, and right in our circle. You don’t have to judge people from your point of view. That’s what I hate about bourgeois morality! Who can say that among the girls in our milieu there are not many who are looking for something, for a better life, for a happiness that they do not know where to find, and that maybe they would find in Oak Farm?”

“You’re right, dear! Sometimes we’re hypocrites! But why have you now made this decision?”

“It’s my personal thing, which I prefer not to talk about with anyone. I just want to add one more thing. I promised that from now on I will no longer consider religion with my usual prejudices. Even if I still don’t understand it, I don’t want to reject it a priori. For this reason I would like to ask you, even if it seems strange, to pray for me, so that I can soon find a girl of my circle willing to follow me here under the conditions you set”.

“You do not know with what joy I will pray for you and for this intention of yours!”

“Good, Auntie! Thank you! I’ll leave you now. I need some time alone, and tomorrow I will leave for London. I want to start my search immediately”

“May the Lord accompany you!” said Mrs. Baker, standing up to escort her nephew to the door.

John went to the exit of the house, stopped for a moment on the threshold for a final farewell and then disappeared into the darkness of the evening.

Mrs. Baker closed the door and remained for a few minutes motionless in silence.  After some moments she went towards the stairs and went upstairs. She entered her bedroom and sat down in an armchair.

Her gaze rested on a photograph of her mother illuminated by the light of a lamp.

“Mother!” she thought. “Who would have thought such a thing?! The Lord is great! Richard was not the prodigal son you so desired. But see that your prayers have not been lost! Look now this son, who was dead and came back to life, was lost and has been found!”