NORA
The NCAA basketball tournament was over, so tonight Nora’s father was watching the San Francisco Giants’ baseball game in the living room. Nora graded seventh grade essays at the kitchen table to the muttering of the announcers and the dim commentary of the crowd until her father appeared in the doorway, leaning on his cane. He wore jeans and a faded Giants tee shirt above those suede slippers he’d had since she was a girl.
‘What do you need, Dad?’ It must be between innings. No way he would leave the television otherwise.
He grimaced as he sat at the table. He’d brought his beer, which was half-empty. ‘I’ve been thinking about that boy. Sal.’
‘What about him?’
‘He’s scared. I could see it when he was here.’
‘He found a dead body. He’s upset about it.’
Nora’s father’s breathing
