From The Sky - Part VI

"She told me the painter is here," said the woman.

"Who said this?" asked Ernesto.

"The woman at the hospital. She said this is where I would find the one who painted my Opa."

"Opa?" asked Gio, spreading open his hands in front of him as if to catch something.

"It's a car, a German car. Don't you know anything?" Ernesto asked, rolling his eyes, a hint of impatience in his voice. "Carlo has one. You've seen it. It's a yellow horror called a Kadett. Ugly. A shoebox with wheels."

"No, no," said the woman. "Opa is Grossvater. Grandfather, I think you say in America. I am looking for the painter Tarentella, the one who painted my grandfather. My Opa."

"Well, she wants Zia then," said Sal.

"Ah, Zia!" Gio exclaimed. "Of course!"

"Sal," cried Ernesto. "Run and find Zia. At once. At once!"

"But she's not here, Papa."

"She's always here!"

"Always," agreed Gio.

"You've both forgotten," said Sal. "She and Rae went into the city to see a play. You gave Zia the tickets last month, on her birthday. They won't be back for two days."

Silence all around, and then the woman said: "Well, I suppose I might come back."

"Yes," said Gio. "You must come back."

"You must," Ernesto agreed. "Come back in two days. Zia will be here."

"But you don't have to wait for Zia," said Gio. "Come back tomorrow. There's a small café down the street. We can have lunch there."

"Not the café!" cried Ernesto. "It's too coarse. Too coarse! Look at her, such a beautiful woman! And so sophisticated! And you would feed her a ham sandwich! No, she should lunch at Delvecchio's. I will take her there!"

Both men shuffled closer to the woman as they tried to woo her. She seemed not to notice, and held her ground.

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