The man was laughing out of a prodigious black beard. Was that what Papá’s laugh was like? I withdrew, frightened. Unlike when I had heard his voice on the phone, his laughter now, in person, didn’t fit anywhere in my memory of what Papá was supposed to sound like. Transform me into light when there is shadow, multiply me when necessary. The black bushy eyebrows were the same, but the skin around his eyes wore deep wrinkles and his cheeks sank in against the arc of his teeth, and his hairline had retreated revealing skin that looked soft and mottled. I struggled to put together the old
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