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Show "It isn't that much. I make it myself." "Gol, thanks, Pilar. I didn't expect a present." Slowly, Kim lifted the white, cardboard box and looked inside. Folded neatly in a little square bundle was a navy blue sweat shirt. She held up the back of the shirt to the light and stared in awe. In large, block letters were stitched the words, "I'd ather be Playing Basketball." Each letter was sewn with small meticulous stitches of white thread, more exact that any stitching she had ever seen. It was a perfect likeness of her old sweat shirt only much more beautiful. "You like?" said Pilar. "I love." said Kim. "It's fantastic." "Maybe it will be souvenir of me." "Oh, Pilar," said Kim burying her face in the soft, smooth shirt. "I need anything to remind me of you, believe me. " What she needed, more than anything was something to forget Pilar-like a pill she could swallow with meals. Suddenly, like a wave about to swallow her up, it hit her just how much she was going to miss her Mexican friend. Kim's flight left the following afternoon. Mimi had left that morning with her mother. The two of them were going to a etreat Center in Big Sur before going on to Los Angeles. Mimi promised to write during Christmas, but she refused to say a forever good bye. "You'll work it out with your mother somehow," she told Kim. "I just know you'll be back." 155 |
