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Don Camillo never told Maria where Peppone had gotten his scar from. In the beginning, when he was first called to Peppone’s sick bed, because he was expected to die soon, Don Camillo had been convinced that he should go and tell Maria Bottazzi about her husband’s condition as soon as possible. But for some reason Peppone made it to a somewhat conscious level of mind just to mumble that he would rather not have his wife worried sick when he couldn’t be around to take care of her, and refused to fall back into unconsciousness or some much needed sleep until Don Camillo promised him not to ever breathe a word of it to his wife. How Peppone had managed to even stay conscious for those minutes Don Camillo didn’t know, but he guessed it had been sheer willpower that had kept his eyes open.
And ever since he had not spoken a word about it.
She had asked him once about the scar, a few months after the end of the war when Peppone finally had been able to come back home. Maria had been newly pregnant with the sixth child and she had decided to tell Don Camillo the news herself even though they had agreed not to be seen together too often any more.
Don Camillo rolled his eyes fondly at her.
“I can never leave the two of you alone, hm?”, he asked as soon as Maria had told him about the baby “He got home two months ago and now you’re pregnant again.”
Maria shrugged.
“There was something I wanted to ask you, Reverend”, she started after a pause “When Peppone came home he sported a new scar. A surprisingly big one at that. You don’t happen to know how he got it, do you?”
“Woman, that you ask me this question suggests I would have ever seen your husband in any state of undress and let me tell you that is something I am praying for to never happen!”
“But Reverend, that is not what I was implying! I just want to know where he got a wound that could cause such a scar”, Maria answered “And you know it, don’t you?”
Don Camillo was silent for a moment.
“No, I don’t.”
With this he wished her a good day and disappeared before Maria could say another word.
To Don Camillo’s relief she never asked him about it again. Until that fateful day. Fateful, Not because something overly dramatic or bad happened, no, fateful, because Don Camillo himself made the mistake of speaking of the scar in her presence.
A man who Peppone had a quarrel with during the war, because said man was a fascist, had been seen in the area again and Peppone had decided to get back at him for ratting him out to the Germans once. Peppone had almost been killed back then.
“Peppone, stay here!”, Don Camillo ground out as the mayor tucked his rifle under his arm and went to open the door, only to find the priest holding him back. “I know where you want to go with this rifle and I tell you do not do it. If you track down this man and shoot him, not even God himself will be able to safe you!”
“Out of my way, priest, this is none of your business!”, Peppone growled back at him and pushed him aside, but Don Camillo followed him.
“Giuseppe Bottazzi, if you do not go back to your house and your wife and leave this whole thing be, I will punch you in the stomach!”
Peppone stopped mid-movement.
“Y-you wouldn't. You know very well that my abdominal wall is not the strongest anymore!”
“I know. That's why I warned you what I'll do if you don't turn around this instant.”
Maria stood in the living room behind them and watched them as they stared each other down for a moment. Finally Peppone sighed and turned back to the dinner table to lean the rifle against it and sit heavily in one of the chairs.
“Fine. I won’t go. But let me tell you, this was the lowest blow you ever delivered. You’re not a man, you’re an animal that you use everything to your advantage that you can get your hands on”, he said.
“This is not to my advantage, Peppone”, Don Camillo answered “Just imagine if I let you run off! People are neither dumb or blind, the police would have found you as the murderer sooner or later and then you’d be sitting in jail with no way to feed your wife and six hungry children.”
Before they could continue arguing however, Maria stepped in and asked Don Camillo to follow her into the kitchen for a moment, where she turned to him and stared at him for a long moment with her arms crossed over her chest.
“So you’ve known about his scar”, she finally said. Don Camillo was surprised to say the least that this was what she wanted to talk about.
“Yes”, he answered.
“I asked you once about it, Reverend, and you lied to me, saying that you knew nothing of it.”
“Well, you’d rather I told you that I knew but your bull-headed husband wouldn’t leave me be until I promised him not to tell you?”, Don Camillo said “If he hasn’t told you anything about it yet, it’s not my place to tell you.”
Maria sighed heavily and let her arms fall to her sides.
“I guess you’re right. He will have his reasons not to tell me how it happened…”, she said and looked in the direction of the living room “We should probably make sure he’s not trying to sneak off while we’re talking though.”