“The suit, Papa?”
“The suit, son,” SS had said with a reverence worthy of the occasion.
“And what sort of suit will it be, Papa?” asked the brightly blank youth.
“As you see, my son, as you see,” and SS swooped his hands down his person to demonstrate what the young TT should see.
They walked together to the shop, side by side. SS had made a point of it, saying, “Son, keep step with me. It is time.” And TT had quickened his step, overtook his father a tad, then slowed his step to bring himself in line. Two abreast they dominated the pavement, but not one person looked.
SS whirled into an alleyway, unannounced, leaving his son still strolling ahead until he noticed, backtracked and whirled into the alleyway too, just in time to see his father disappear into an unmarked red, wooden door
