"Buck up, man. You look Irish. Manual laboris in your blood."He, with his milky-white complexion, curly red hairand florid complexion, didn't laugh at...that last jab. When he finally got my bags into the trunk, I climbedbehind the wheel. He came to the door and cleared his throat. "Howsilly of me to forget," I said, pulling a handful ofchange from my pocket and throwing out the passengerside window where it clattered all over the boilingblacktop of the driveway. I wasn't feeling good. I was. ‘Who is that woman, a friend of yours?’ Layla broke her stare, turning towards fritz, ‘No Fritz, she is a woman from my deep past, a woman you must send away from here. I do not welcome her and I do not know how she found her way here!’ Her body shook on the last few syllables, jerking her head towards the spot where the woman had once stood only to find her no longer there. Layla grabbed Fritz by the lapels, shaking him rather violently. ‘Fritz! She’s gone! You must find her and get rid of. More

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