“I saw the old man again at the market today. He said that he had been like a father to Ben.”
Gloria froze in her footsteps. It seemed like an eternity before she turned around to face the young girl.
“What did this old man look like”?
“He was very tall, and wore an old, tattered cowboy hat. He seemed very sweet.” The color left Gloria’s face, and she just stared at Emma. “What is it? Tell me.”
She took Emma’s hands, and stared some more. Finally, she spoke, but her voice was weary, almost a whisper. “There was an old man that fits that description, and he did hang out with your dad the year you were born. But, Emma. That was 25 years ago. You couldn’t have seen him today. He’d have to be well over a hundred years old.” She hesitated, “His name was,” She could barely be heard, “Mickey.”
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