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Show -13Q giant cedars reared up, anchored to the earth by humped root; as thick around as everyday trees. He stared seriously into the lens. "I'm not his son," Carlo said. "Look at it," I said. "There isn't a dime's worth of difference between you. Look." He ran out of the kitchen but I caught -up with him on the stairs and followed him into his room. "Leave me" alone. " "No. " He stretched out on his bed and stared at the ceiling. His hair made a damp spot on the pillow. "Tell me about it," I said. "I think he was a foreigner," Carlo said. "Somebody important, distinguished maybe. A prince from some little country whose name nobody would recognize." "Who are we talking about?" "My true father." His eyes came down and met mine. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?" "When I was fifteen years old I used to say to myself 'I'm not a Skinner. I can't be. Not me. No, no.' But I was anyway. And so are you." "No," Carlo said. "You might be; I'm not." "Then how do you explain the resemblance?" I'd carried the photograph upstairs with me and I held it up for him. |