Vinnie had the confidence of a roman statue. His emerald-isle-fiery-red-hair belied a family heritage that had emigrated to The Promised Land from Northern Italy, not Northern Ireland. What few friends he had called him “Little Red Ferrari” or LRF for his fiery red temper and uber-ancestral pride.
Tonight’s rain in Freedomville meant wintrymix. Vinnie had just been 86’d from the German Brauhaus and now LRF was driving his Pontiac Aztec home at wintrymix+.08 speed, Statue of Liberty proudly gorilla-glued to his dashboard.
His mind couldn’t quite process the dark wretched masses to be a family out walking the road at this hour in these tempest-tossed conditions. He pulled over, flashers blinking, lamps high. The golden door of his Aztec opened, LRF-adrenaline pumping. What were they thinking?
“Sir, we are hungry,” (señor, we are hong-ree), the man said as wintrymix pelted them. The children—smiled?
What are they thinking/doing, in some human way, suddenly felt like nonsense. These poor huddled people in freezing-wet clothing were here, hong-ree.
Vinnie’s mind saw his own pride in them. What courage! This man’s people built pyramids!
“Vieni qui,” Vinnie said in Italian pointing to the Aztec hoping it was close enough. It was close enough.
Flash fiction entry to Plazm Magazine contest, "Opposite of Hate." Winning the contest is not the point. As writers, contribution to the higher purpose is our reward. Participation our Victory.