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finger pulled a slender stick from whether she was thinking of her
the pack. late husband or God or anything
at all. As we continued smoking
"Could I have one of those?" together, side by side on our
I asked quickly. lavender bath towels, she finally

My grandmother paused spoke.
and turned her head slowly until "You're a nice boy, Jack.
her eyes were resting calmly on
my own. Without a word, she You're a nice, nice boy."
pulled another cigarette from the I smiled and we kept smok-
box and handed it to me. She
dug out a pack of matches from ing, waiting again for a reminder
the same pocket, struck one and
lit both of our cigarettes. I had from God.
never smoked before and I
coughed and gasped with the
first inhalation. Mom-Mom Sylvie
was staring off again, quietly
puffing her solitary cigarette. I
wondered what she was thinking,

"On the Road to Rio" by Devin Collins

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