Sandro tried to absorb the shock. “Really, go inside. I want to go to La Sapienza and see what’s happening with the professor.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you when I can.”
“Of course.”
Sandro watched Elisabetta turn reluctantly away, walk to the entrance with the other Gentile students, then glance back at him. He could see how much she was hurting for him, so he put on a brave face and waved goodbye. She climbed the steps into school amid the throng, and the schoolyard emptied of everyone except the Jewish students, Carlotta, Malka, Giulia, and others whose names he didn’t know, teary and confused.
The doors to the school closed, and Sandro stood in mute astonishment on the outside, among the other Jewish students. Noise and chatter emanated from the school’s open windows, and he knew that everyone would be filing into the classrooms, about to sing “Giovinezza.” He had sung it every day, too, but today, Fascism had excluded him from his school and everyone he knew, including the girl he loved.
“What do we do now?” Giulia approached, wiping her eyes.
“I don’t know, but I have to go.” Sandro hurried for his bicycle.
* * *
—
Sandro pedaled through the streets, faster than he ever had before. The morning rush hour was in full swing, and it was all he could do to stay out of the way of cars, trams, and other bicycles. Everyone was hurrying to get to work or school, oblivious to the upheaval in the lives of Rome’s Jews. He reached La Sapienza in record time, steered onto the asphalt path that ran through the center of campus, and joined the other students riding bicycles and walking in groups. He passed the new administration building, a massive edifice that had been built under Mussolini, which Sandro was seeing with new eyes. Its monolithic design used to impress him, but today it intimidated him.
He turned onto the path leading to the round, ultra-modern building that housed the Mathematics Department, and a large crowd of students buzzed on the grass in front. He jumped off his bike just in time to see a line of students, devastated and distraught, leaving the math building carrying their belongings.
Sandro felt stricken, witnessing the scene with dismay. Next to him stood a heavyset student, who also looked upset, and Sandro turned to him. “Excuse me, is this because of the new law?”
“Yes, the Jewish students were thrown out this morning. The Jewish professors received letters of dismissal, so they’re fired. The course schedule is chaos. Nobody knows what to do. It’s shocking.”
“What about Levi-Civita? Has he left yet, do you know?”
“Levi-Civita? You have Levi-Civita?” The student’s dark eyes lit up with new regard. “I’m Franco Dutolo.”
Sandro introduced himself, shaking his hand.
“Which course do you take with Levi-Civita?”
“No course, an independent study.”
“I haven’t seen him yet, but I just got here. I’m on a waiting list for his seminar, or I was. I transferred from the University of Padua. Levi-Civita taught there for years. Everyone loved him. He takes the students on trips to the Alps.” Franco turned and eyed the scene, shaking his head. “This is disgusting. It’s bigotry. I never would’ve thought this could happen, and people are saying it will decimate the math department. Professors Volterra and Castelnuova already left. Believe it or not, some of the students were jeering.”
Sandro recoiled, appalled.
“I heard that Professor Enriques tried to get into the library, but they wouldn’t let him.” Franco’s eyes flared in outrage. “They threw him out. One of the finest mathematicians of the century.”
“This is terrible.” Sandro watched the graduate assistants walk by, some looking numb, many crying.
“Can you imagine, this is happening at universities all over the country. Padua. Bologna. Turin. Ferrara. Milan.”
“I have to go inside.”
“Don’t, they told us not to. They told us to wait outside.”
But Sandro wasn’t following the rules anymore. He rolled his bicycle to the entrance, made his way through the crowd, and hurried into the building, his heart in his throat. Chaos reigned in the noisy hallway, and students milled everywhere, chattering and crying. Staff hugged each other, and professors wiped away tears.
Sandro took a right turn, heading for Professor Levi-Civita’s office, driven to see him one last time, to say goodbye and thank you. He threaded his way through the crowd in the hallway and spotted Enzo standing outside the professor’s office.