Free Between Enemies by Andrea Molesini Page A

besides, with the war on they needed a box on the ears to keep them in line. But the younglings of the flock well knew what wolves and fanged jaws were about in the streets, in the fields, in the mountains. They all had a couple of brothers in uniform, and almost all had seen one of them buried.
    Don Lorenzo’s figure loomed large in front of the altar. A stick of chalk served him as a baton. Without so much as a how-do-you-do? he launched into a description of hell that made the press-ganged lads’ flesh creep. He spoke of the eyes of thedevil, as cold as bayonets, and of his flaming whip that lashed off chunks of flesh. ‘It will spell trouble for you if I catch you eyeing the…’ – he flavoured the pause with a rotund gesture which they all understood – ‘the…of the baker’s girl! It is a Sin, a Sin!’ He then attempted to define this Sin using words which the lambs had never heard before: ‘grave matters’, and ‘deliberate consent’.
    ‘First the fire and then the smoke,’ I whispered in Giulia’s ear.
    The priest’s voice grew clearer, his speech slower, as he went on to speak about worldly temptations: ‘Because one day the devil comes disguised as a woman knocking at your door, her dress all torn, and another as a rich man wearing a top hat, and the one will promise you the pleasures of the flesh and the other riches and power. You must be as alert as a sentry on watch, because the Enemy is crafty, seeking out our weak spots and scenting it when we weary. If we lower our guard he knows it. Yes, and he knows how to lie in wait, and how to strike!’ Don Lorenzo heaved a deep sigh, and the lectern was shaken by the weight of his hands. ‘You, Attilio…yes, you…’ – and he aimed his chalk at a child sitting in the third row – ‘You, sitting there yawning without putting your hand over your mouth… the demon will come for you too, you who yawn and imagine that he’s not thinking of you. Fool! He will come for you too!’ He broke off to stab the chalk at him once more. ‘I see you’ve finished yawning. Good boy, that’s the way, be attentive, like our soldiers on the Piave, who never let their rifles out of their hands, or it would be the end of our country. Be vigilant, Attilio, and the devil will not come for you.’
    Don Lorenzo furrowed his brow. ‘Do you understand, lads? The devil is cunning and comes furtively, like a thief in the night, and if you are not watching out, then you can kiss goodbye tothe crock of gold, and goodbye to Paradise, the only place where there is no sin.’
    ‘Bloody bore, this Paradise,’ muttered Attilio.
    Don Lorenzo started walking to and fro in front of the altar. Saying nothing. All of a sudden he halted and raked us all with his eyes, right down to the back pew. Like a cow chewing the cud.
    ‘However, the universal evil…’ Here he raised his chalk towards the ceiling before pointing it at all of us. ‘The universal evil comes knocking at all doors, even that of the smallest cottage hidden in the woods.’ Thereupon, to bring grist to his mill, he launched into an invective against the war: ‘The mayor has bolted, the doctor has bolted, they have all followed suit, even before the army bolted, but your priest is still here, the Church is still here, because the Church is a rock in the torrent.’ He had scored a point in his favour. But the very next moment he got bogged down in one of his proverbial demonstrations of the existence of God, which Grandpa called ‘sacristy garbage’.
    ‘Have you any idea, lads,’ began the priest, pointing his chalk at the astonished stucco angels on the ceiling, ‘how much money that young man at the back of the church has in his pocket?’
    They all swivelled their heads towards me, including Attilio who was yawning again. Don Lorenzo lowered the chalk. ‘Do
you
know?’ And he stabbed the chalk at a boy in the front row. ‘Or do
you
know?’ pointing at another. ‘Or maybe that sleepy-head Attilio