Street Boys by Lorenzo Carcaterra Read Free Book Online Page B

Von Klaus said to him. “Find a bigger bush to hide behind. And this time, stay low enough to the ground that you will not be seen from the road. You never know. There might be more Nazis behind me. Can I count on you to follow such an order?”
    “Yes,” Massimo said.
    “Good,” Von Klaus said. “Spoken like a true soldier.”
    The colonel nodded as he and Massimo exchanged a final glance. Then the boy turned and ran back up the sloping hillside, higher and deeper into the coverage than when he had first been found. Von Klaus looked away once the boy was out of sight and caught a disapproving glance from his second-in-command, Sergeant Albert Hartz, standing alongside his tank, arms folded across his massive chest.
    “Would you have preferred I shot him dead?” Von Klaus asked.
    “He’ll run and tell others our position and where we’re heading,” Hartz said.
    “What others? All the other seven-year-olds?” Von Klaus said with a smile. “Nonetheless, inform high command. Let them know there may still be children hiding in the area. That should satisfy any of your concerns.”
    “It is still a risk I would not have taken, sir.”
    “Then you can take a measure of pride in knowing that you are a better Nazi that I am,” Von Klaus said.
    The colonel turned away from Sergeant Hartz, rapped on the side of his tank and looked back up at the hillside as his Division continued its slow descent into Naples.

10
    CASTEL DELL’OVO, NAPLES
SEPTEMBER 26, 1943
    One hundred boys and girls sat around the castle’s edge. Carlo Maldini stood to the side, the back of his wool shirt soaked with the sweat brought on by the early-morning heat. Nunzia was off to his left, her eyes studying the faces of Vincenzo, Franco and Angela.
    “Are you the leader?” Maldini asked Vincenzo.
    “I don’t lead anybody,” Vincenzo said. “They followed me.”
    “That means they’re looking for you to lead.” Maldini eased himself past Nunzia and stood towering above Vincenzo. “Except in many cases, the good Lord sends bread to those who can’t chew.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Franco asked, looking over at Vincenzo and Angela.
    “It means your friend here acts like a leader, even talks like one,” Maldini said. “But he doesn’t think like one.”
    “I told you, I’m not anyone’s leader,” Vincenzo said.
    “Then why are you here?” Maldini asked. “And why do they follow you? It’s because they heard you talk. But that only gets you so far. Now they need to see you think.”
    “We’re making a plan,” Angela said. “Just in case the Nazis do come.”
    “Does this plan call for weapons?” Maldini asked. “Or are you just going to stare at the Nazis until they leave?”
    “Many of us have knives and a few have handguns,” Vincenzo said. “It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
    Maldini turned away from Vincenzo and stared out at the glimmering waters of the bay. “Think back,” he said. “Think to when the Nazis first came to Naples. What is the first thing they did?”
    “They took away the guns and rifles our fathers kept,” Franco said.
    “That’s right,” Maldini said, glancing over Franco’s shoulder as twenty more boys hustled to join the group. “And they took them where?”
    Vincenzo stepped away from Maldini and looked down at the water splashing against the sides of the pier.
    “That’s right,” Maldini whispered. “They threw them in the bay.”
    “How deep?” Vincenzo asked.
    “Fifty feet,” Maldini said. “Seventy-five at the most.”
    “Can they still be used?” Angela asked.
    “Once they’re dried, cleaned and oiled, they’ll be good as new,” Maldini said. “Maybe a bit rusty, but nothing worse than that.”
    “And we get them out how?” Vincenzo asked. “It would take every free hand we have a full day to dive down and bring up each gun. And that’s assuming we were good enough even to do something like that. Then you would need another full day to