Kill Me If You Can
“She sat on a folding chair with her head bowed, but she looked up to thank anyone who tossed a coin in her basket.
I dropped in a one-hundred-euro note. Her head came up fast. “Grazie mille.”
“It’s from Colorado,” I said.
“Ah, Signor Colorado. Nice man.” She studied my face carefully. “You are the young Colorado, sì?”
“I’m his son,” I said.
She beamed and touched a bony blue-veined hand to her heart, much the way I imagined she would have if she’d been in the maternity ward thirty years ago whe...n my father announced, “It’s a boy.”
“Where are you going?” she said.
I hesitated. “I’d rather not say, Sister.”
She lowered her head and peered at me over rimless glasses. She smiled, amused at my lack of trust. The deep-set, watery eyes and crinkled-paper skin put her somewhere north of eighty, but her teeth could not have been more than a few years old. Straight, white porcelain dentures that were so perfect, I imagined they could only have been the generous gift of a devout Catholic dentist.MoreLess
I dropped in a one-hundred-euro note. Her head came up fast. “Grazie mille.”
“It’s from Colorado,” I said.
“Ah, Signor Colorado. Nice man.” She studied my face carefully. “You are the young Colorado, sì?”
“I’m his son,” I said.
She beamed and touched a bony blue-veined hand to her heart, much the way I imagined she would have if she’d been in the maternity ward thirty years ago whe...n my father announced, “It’s a boy.”
“Where are you going?” she said.
I hesitated. “I’d rather not say, Sister.”
She lowered her head and peered at me over rimless glasses. She smiled, amused at my lack of trust. The deep-set, watery eyes and crinkled-paper skin put her somewhere north of eighty, but her teeth could not have been more than a few years old. Straight, white porcelain dentures that were so perfect, I imagined they could only have been the generous gift of a devout Catholic dentist.MoreLess
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