Nine-year-old Trey's lonely, sad life as a fatherless misfit is changed forever when the new preacher's kid, the indomitable Charley, arrives. Everyone around Charley sees him as tragically handicapped. Not so Charley himself, who lives life to the...
Once everyone had settled down for Sunday dinner Ms. Catarina, Sammy and Simon 's grandmother, said, "Nel nome del Padre e del Figlio e dello Spirito Santo." There was a rustling all around me whose source I couldn't identify. She continued, "Ringraziate il Signore, perché la sua benignità dura in eterno." Mr. Mike said, "Noi, Signore," and everyone but me and Grandpa continued with him, "e questi tuoi doni, che stiamo per ricevere dalla tua generosità, per mezzo di Cristo, nostro Signore benedica. Amen," and the rustling happened again.
I asked Simon in a near whisper, "What was that all about?"
He replied, "Nonna said, 'Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,' and Dad said 'Bless us, Lord, and these your gifts that we are about to receive from your generosity, through Christ, our Lord.' Nonna always says the first part, and our Nonno used to say the second part, until he died, and Nonna says Dad has to say the second part now because he's her and Nonno's oldest son."
Ms. Sandra's voice came from right behind us, "Boys, here's your antipasto," as she set plates before each of us. "There's lemonade at one o'clock." I explored with my fingers and found the plate was small. I asked, "What is this?"
Sammy replied, "There's usually cold meats and cheese and stuff. Just eat, you'll like it. Use your fork, not your fingers. Don't fill up on anything, there's a lot more to come."
Mr. Mike announced, "We have keep it to English today, Mr. Ross and Trey don't know Italian." Animated conversation began to flow among the grownups, and occasionally it would slide into Italian despite Mr. Mike's best efforts.
I dug into the antipasto and encountered a variety of tastes that were new to me, other than a bit of pepperoni and cheese, but it was good, and I said so.
"You must have liked it," Sammy said. "You finished it up quick enough."
"Yeah, Trey, take your time," Simon said. "We're gonna be here a while."
Soon Ms. Sandra was behind us again. "Let me have your plates, boys," she said. In a minute she said, "Here's your primo, pasta fazhool," as she set a bowl before each of us.
"What is this?" I asked.
Simon said, "It's a kind of soup with a lot of macaroni and beans." I reached down to tuck my napkin into my shirt and spread it over the front of me. I was too new at being sightless not to take some precautions. I addressed myself very carefully to the heavy soup before me, and managed not to let any of it stray. "You like?" came Ms. Catarina's voice from behind me. "I do," I said. "Bene, bene," she said. "I make it-a myself, Donna Sandra help-a me." "Grazie, Nonna," Simon said. I felt a wet, garlicky kiss on my cheek, and then she was gone, as the conversation continued to flow around the table.
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Soon someone was taking our bowls. "Thanks, Peter," Simon said. I asked, "Howdja know who it was?"
Sammy explained, "Peter always picks up after the primo."
