A Dream

Chapter 4

18

  I wipe the sweat from my brow. I continue to haul heaps of clothes into the huge wash basket like all the rest of the washer maids. It is so hot at the laundry shop.

  I have graduated from the orphanage with flying colors. They set me free to the real world. I am surprised at how different is is outside the stone walls of that little jail cell, and it took time to get used to all the hustle and bustle on the streets. I have managed to get a job at the laundry shop, and the monotonous work fits my monotonous daily life. Although, the brown envelope that I never opened still taunts me when it sits on my dresser. I look at it and I always say, “ Tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day.” but it never comes. I then guiltily slip into bed, still dreaming of father.

  I never differ from my routine of waking up, getting dressed, going to work and coming back late at night. On dreary days, I like to look at the many customers and study them closely. It is interesting to see. I look at the drunkard who walks into the room, staggering under the huge sack he carries. He seems to be paying off a debt as his clothes are not too shabby. He dumps it into my arms as I head over to the check book and say with a sigh, “what is your name sir?” he replies stupidly,  “ Adhémar. Adhémar Veracanza.” I look at him. And I open my trembling lips to stutter words I never thought I would say. “ Father?”