My father held a fishing pole in one hand and in the other, a cooler for the porgies, fluke, and bluefish we would catch off the Coney Island piers. We stopped at the bodega to get ice and a chocolate bar for my breakfast. My father greeted Tito, who was watching a small television next to the cash register: “Tito, you’re looking good today! That is a fine shirt you’re wearing.” Tito scratched the hairy space where he was missing a shirt button. He looked down at me and said, “Your father is very funny. Your house must be like a party every day,” and then handed me a dime and motioned toward the gumball machine with his chin. I reached up for it and said, “It’s fun when we play games.”
“I bet,” Tito said, as he handed change to the next customer.
Already have an account? Log in
Join KR for even more to read.