“Your son can come and play with us?” asked Totò.
“Of course.”
“Come with us, Peppuccio,” said Totò.
The three children ran away, as Lula got out of the van loaded with luggage. She immediately turned to her husband who was watching the kids’ race, perplexed.
“Big, black animal,” she reproached him, “stinking son of a monkey, what wait to follow kids? What think you come to Sicily for? Go now, run behind them and mind they be well.” The sciumbascia Jallon gazed at his wife with his lower lip hanging down, making him look like an i***t. He then stood erect like a soldier and quickly chased the kids, joining them before they crossed the gate at the end of the long avenue of palms. Near the van there were two employees who had just started to unload the luggage. “Mizzichina!10 Fifì, did y
