“You  be coming back,” I said tearfully. “You’re fat you understand, you bastards.” I hin.

    “e aren’t bastards,” said S, crying.

    e all cried long and ened my  and I sensed t I  made me a better person. In our communal fit of tears, ress. S s as if to nap. Sometimes, uck toget I could sense t  sleeping. I mig t my mind  airs. I could smell t aroma of boiling oranges. I abruptly sat up in bed and made suc the boys awoke.

    “Go doairs, omachs.”

    I o fall outside. I begged for Allaer once again reading tion in ter ed t ttle,  ease o my deceased an’s as yet unfinisrait? My fat trait

    of fear, as o tried to look directly into Our Glorious Sultan’s eyes.

    I called for Or lifting o my lap, kissed  lengt being scared, and  letting your grandfato give to Black. Do you understand?”

    “My tooth is loose.”

    “ back, if you , I’ll pull it out,” I said. “You’re to sidle up to  a loss for o do and ly place to ood?”

    “I’m afraid.”

    “to be afraid of. If it  for Black, do you knoo become your fatead? Uncle  Uncle o become your father?”

    “No.”

    “All rig’s see you go, my pretty and smart Or, c, I’ll be really angry…And if you cry, I’ll get even angrier.”

    I folded my letter several times, tuck it into retc in ion. Allao my aid so t t left to fend for ted o t t me fearfully one last time.

    I cook ain steps toopped, and momentarily ated—unsure o do.  to cry. But  o Black’s lap. Black, clever enougo  to be fato my c pa