Excerpt
“Can I talk to you, Mr. Ruffolo,” she asked. She was already a little taller than Fausto with just past shoulder length brown hair. Her slender figured look belied the young girl who now knew how to take control of a situation and not become a victim.
“Of course you can, young lady,” Fausto replied and shocked that she knew his name. She smiled upon hearing Fausto calling her that.
“Mr. Schaeffer said you found this transistor radio,” she said holding it up for Fausto to see. Of course, it was the same one he had seen her listening to before.
“Yes, I did find it,” Fausto replied. Now comes the tough part, he thought. He knew he could not lie in good conscious. It was against his religion and against his character even to a seventeen-year-old when the topic would be difficult to discuss between the generations.
“If you do not mind me asking, where did you find it?” she asked in a straight and steady voice.
Great, Fausto thought now the hard part. He swallowed, took a breath, and replied, “I found it lying on the ground on Lake Shore Drive.” He saw her face stiffen so he followed that with, “My late wife and I used to go there a lot when we were dating.”
“Oh, I am sorry,” she said thinking that she may have had heard that his wife had died from somewhere.
“That is ok, it brings back happy memories,” he said as his mind took him immediately back to his special dream last Friday night. “I am glad I was able to return it to the rightful owner.”
“It was a horrible night for me,” she blurted out not knowing how to say what she wanted to say.
God, Fausto thought, which was one more confirmation to him that his dream was real, “I am sorry it turned out that way.”
“No, you saved me!” She just said it, almost shouted it, which shocked Fausto. “I do not know how to explain it but I felt like you were there watching me. You or someone was telling me to get sick. I did not hear that, but I felt it. It is strange and I hope you do not think I am nuts,” she suddenly got very self-conscious about how Fausto might think of her or who else might hear this.
“I do not know what to say,” Fausto replied. He certainly did not want to tell her his side of the story that night.
“Anyway, I got the idea to drink the brandy down fast hoping that it would make me sick and it worked. I was able to get out of the car and walk the short distance home,” she said giving Fausto a recap while leaving out the uncomfortable details.
It was just as Fausto dreamed it. He was happy that thanks to Gina’s intervention, he was able to help her at a very difficult time. “What can I say? God works in mysterious ways,” Fausto said using a common religious saying as a defense against the girl thinking he was nuts. “By the way, what is your name?”
“Julie, Julie Winters,” she replied relieved.
“Good, now I have a name to go with all that awful music you listen to,” Fausto smiled at his review of 1960s music.
“But, you did like one song,” she protested and pouted at hearing yet another adult criticize the music she so loved.
“Yes, so all is not lost,” he said still smiling and relieved that he did not have to go into his own detail about that night.
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