Page 66 - Vol. VI #2
P. 66

Heart Attack (continued from preceding page)
The evening of the benefit dinner, Dally-Boy was a no-show, and when Enda couldn’t reach him by phone, her first thought was that he’d finally
had his heart attack. She left Bobbi at Sully’s,
 in charge at the benefit, which was successful enough—money raised, a community show- ing the best of itself—and drove home. She felt, what? Not dread nor fear, but steadiness and a matter-of-factness she knew would hold her in place, would keep her grounded to earth for as long as she was needed.
Just the usual lights on the porch were on at the house when she pulled up, but a taxi idled in the driveway. She went in through the kitchen door and Dally-Boy appeared in the hallway wearing his good suit. Enda looked him over with some relief. “Who died?” she asked. Then she saw the suitcase behind him and that in one hand he clutched a shiny green flyer with colorful scenes on the cover and a picture of an airplane taking off.
“I’ve had the best of America; yer Barack Obama,” Dally-Boy said, looking around the kitchen, “and all of this.” He was returning to Ireland, was leav- ing her, possibly for good, though that is not what he said. What he did say was, “The house is yours Birdy. You’ll be grand on your own.”
Years later when Enda would tell the story of that summer and of the night Dally-Boy went home to Ireland, she always said that she believed it would be a heart attack that would take him away. And then she would say, “But it was Ireland, a different kind of heart attack all together.”
 In 2017 Napolitano had her first piece of short fiction, “Mo,” published in Void Magazine (Dublin, Ireland). That same year, her story “The Universe Can Be An Asshole” was short-listed for the Reynolds Price International Award for Fiction, and another story titled “On Any Monday” short-listed for the Glimmer Train short story award for new writers.
 The Maze
oil on canvas
12'' x 18''
By Dillon Samuelson

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