The Secret of the Trunk

By gloria hanson

Fleeing capture, a young Jewish couple take a trunk and a bundle up to a small village in the Apennine Mountains of Italy during the Second World War. The recipients take the offerings and resume their agrarian lives until poverty and few possibilities lead them to emigrate to America. 

The story follows the joys and disappointments of the Ferranti family in Italy and the United States where their love and loyalty by the secret in the trunk.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: gloria hanson
• Release date: Feb 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393953449

gloria hanson

Gloria Hanson has been writing poetry and essays since she was in grade school. As a bookworm and curious teenager, she would indulge in flights of fancy during those long after-school hours without television or computer. Following a career in biology and a long job as wife and mother, she returned to graduate school. During her professional life she devoted herself to writing articles in her field of clinical social work. With the departure of children for their own lives, Gloria returned to her early love affair with writing. Now the passion consumes most of her days, resulting in the publication of eight books.

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THE SECRET OF THE TRUNK

First edition. February 3, 2020.

Copyright © 2020 gloria hanson.

ISBN: 978-1393953449

Written by gloria hanson.

Table of Contents

Copyright Page

The Secret of the Trunk

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About the Author

Chapter 1  The Trunk

Alessio awoke earlier than his family that morning in october, 1944 so as not to disturb the children and his wife Vittoria. Slipping out in the early morning darkness, he felt the cold wind on his face, the frostiness of his moustache and the tingling in his hands. Having slept in his clothing, he had to grab his only warm winter coat and woolen hat and make his way out of the house and down the cobbled path to the roadside shrine dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Weary travelers could rest and pause on their journey in the mountainous terrain of the Apennines.

No one was visible as the single candle inside the shrine flickered and failed to light the path but cast fleeting shadows of the Madonna on the kneeling stone. He paused and waited for the travelers. He wondered if the group had been accosted by the Fascist groups operating around the small villages of Bagni di Lucca. He knew that these turncoats were collaborating with the Nazis who had taken over the northern region of his country in 1943 following the arrest of Mussolini by the king. Fearing that he would be caught and imprisoned, he did not feel courageous nor particularly emboldened to meet up with any of these individuals; yet he had made an agreement with his parish priest, and he intended to keep his word.

As soon as he heard footsteps and the unmistakable sound of the donkey's hooves, he came from behind the shrine and stood on the side of the footpath. He could now make out the figures approaching as the light of their lantern lit the way. Leading the weary animal and human travelers was the local village priest of Riolo, Father Bernardi, wearing hiking boots, a black cassock, collar and a warm woolen coat. This burly cleric was panting and struggling to get to the shrine. A heavily bearded man wrapped in a long coat, thick cap covering his ears and oiled hiking boots followed. He held his gloved hand around the waist of a tiny woman wearing a kerchief knotted under her chin who carried an unlikely package close to her chest. Both were wrapped in sturdy winter woolens and water proofed shoes and appeared to be from the urban class in Lucca, a walled city close to the Monti di Villa region of small villages.

Slung on the back of the donkey was a wooden trunk tied around the animal’s belly, secured and hidden under thick blankets used by the farmers to protect their animals during the harsh fall and winter months. Father Bernardi took great pains to pull the animal along behind him as both struggled along the route. Alessio came forward and gently took the reins from the priest, tying the donkey to a tall chestnut tree. He led the group to a small clearing behind the shrine.  He thought, I wish I had brought a pail of water from the fountain in the piazza, but I didn't think ahead. No matter. I  will walk back to the village and return with water later if they remained undetected.

Meanwhile, for the safety of everyone, business had to be transacted quickly. The woods were hiding places for all of the warring groups in the area. Alessio had not joined his partigiani (partisans) today, a group of Italians resisting the Nazi takeover, and he also detested those of his neighbors and others who supported Il Duce.  How, he had wondered, could his fellow villagers support such tyrants as Hitler and Mussolini. He suspected that they must be involved in some financial dealings with the enemy. Why else would they cooperate, especially since he had heard that the Allied Forces led by Americans were making their way up to the North, liberating the populace.

In the interim, the Germans occupying the North had begun to deport undesirables such as partisans, Jews, politically active Italians, Jehovah's Witnesses, homosexuals and captured soldiers to transit camps throughout the North. He knew of such a camp in nearby Bagni di Lucca. It must be about money, he thought; and yet here he was about to make a monetary deal himself.

Alessio, thank you for your help. Meet Simone and Daniella from Lucca. They must escape to Switzerland this very night because the Fascists are after them and their fellow Jews. I am taking them to meet our guide. Father Bernardi spoke in near whispers as he pulled Simone closer to his parishioner.

Simone held out his hand and bowed his head to greet Alessio, This is my wife, Daniella and my child, Emelia.

He reached over to uncover the child’s face and attempted to take her from the mother’s arms, but the woman resisted and began to weep. Simone whispered into her ear; and finally, Daniella allowed the child to be held by Simone. Alessio reminded them of the precariousness of this situation, but the woman continued to cry and bury her face into her husband’s shoulder, Father, please talk to her. I am afraid for our lives. The mountains hear.

Father Bernardi looked at Alessio and taking his arm said, Do you understand what they are asking of you?

Yes, I agreed to do this, but I am wondering whether I can, Father. Would it put my wife and children in danger? I don’t know..., Alessio began to shake his head and breathe in short exhales that blew out the warmth of his body into a cloud of cold air.

Please, Simone whispered, this might be the only way to save my daughter’s life. I fear we are doomed as parents. We will most likely be caught and sent to the camps in Germany or executed along the way.

Father Bernardi intervened, That Teutonic brute, Field Marshall Keselring, has sent many Jews to Auschwitz where they are tortured, starved and burned along with many others. These poor souls are the victims of the 1938 Mussolini Hate Laws that deprived thousands of their civil rights.

I know, I know, Father.  I applaud the clergy-led DELASEM* that has saved many Jews from unspeakable horrors, but I am afraid of these people who prey upon those of us who have lived in peace throughout Italy. What if they find out that she is adopted and not my daughter? What will they do to her and me?

Alessio, I will go to the church and to the commune and change the birth records. Simone has already done that in Lucca where no record of her existence exists. We both have many collaborators in the local offices who can change the names and birthdays of those we want to protect. Emilia is one of these fortunate few. I have also arranged for Maria, your neighbor, to be the wet nurse for the baby since she recently had a child.

We have hidden our family heirlooms in this trunk together with thousands of lire to repay you for your help. If Daniella and I do not return in five years, we want you to take whatever you want from our precious items and sell them to pay for the care of this little one. If, by some miracle we do survive, we will re-pay you in any way we can. Simone reached for Alessio’s arm while the tears rolled down his cheeks.

I do not want to do this, but I have no choice, Daniella moaned, rocking back and forth as if she was still holding her baby. Please, please, save her. God will reward you and your family.

Simone lifted his arms and offered the swaddled child to Alessio who reluctantly accepted the gift.

Buona fortuna (Good luck). I will try my best to raise this girl as an Italian. My wife Vittoria is a good woman who has agreed to this plan despite her reservations. We are not wealthy, but we will care for her until you return.

Father Bernardi bowed and utters a prayer in thanksgiving. 'The good man brings out of his good treasure what is good...' ***

Leave the trunk here with me. I will hide it in the brush and return tomorrow night and bury it until it is safe to take home. I need help to move it to the wooded area behind the shrine.

Father Bernardi and Simone lowered the trunk, carried it to the area Alessio pointed to and covered it with branches and leaves.

Father, lead them on their way before the baby starts to cry.

Andiamo! (let’s go) Father Bernardi took the leash leading the animal and the couple up the path to the mountain town of Montefegatesi where a group of partisans awaited to shuttle the couple north through the Apennine Mountain forests to find the Swiss guide who would lead them from Italy to Switzerland. Daniella looked back trying to catch one last glimpse, but Alessio had disappeared into the shadows on his way home.

*DELASEM (Delegation for the Assistance of Jewish Emigrants)

** Holy Bible Luke 6:45

Chapter 2  The New Addition

Having arrived home safely with his bundle bulging under his long winter coat, Alessio warmed himself by the smoldering embers near the kitchen fireplace. He felt exhausted and wanted to climb the narrow stairs to the bed where he and Vittoria slept. It was mid- morning, and he had not slept all night fearing that even if he dozed off, he would be discovered.

He heard the door open and was surprised to see Vittoria appear with the cesto (basket) filled with kindling wood still on her head. She had been down to the pasture and had picked up the fallen branches from the chestnut trees, knowing that, if Alessio made it home, he and the baby would need the warmth of the hearth. She set down the basket and stirred the embers while blowing to resurrect the flame as she placed a few slim branches over the coals. The wood soon caught fire whereupon she