Chapter 26

           

           Ihadshippedaheadaboxofbookstomyself,rightbeforeIleftNewYorktomovetoItaly.TheboxwasguaranteedtoarriveatmyRomanapartmentwithinfourtosixdays,butIthinktheItalianpostofficemusthavemisreadthatinstructionas"forty-sixdays,"fortwomonthshavepassednow,andIhaveseennosignofmybox.MyItalianfriendstellmetoputtheboxoutofmymindcompletely.Theysaythattheboxmayarriveoritmaynotarrive,butsuchthingsareoutofourhands.

           "Didsomeonemaybestealit?"IaskLucaSpaghetti."Didthepostofficeloseit?"

           Hecovershiseyes."Don’taskthesequestions,"hesays."You’llonlymakeyourselfupset."

           Themysteryofmymissingboxpromptsalongdiscussiononenightbetweenme,myAmericanfriendMariaandherhusband,Giulio.Mariathinksthatinacivilizedsocietyoneshouldbeabletorelyonsuchthingsasthepostofficedeliveringone’smailinapromptmanner,butGiuliobegstodiffer.Hesubmitsthatthepostofficebelongsnottoman,buttothefates,andthatdeliveryofmailisnotsomethinganybodycanguarantee.Maria,annoyed,saysthisisonlyfurtherevidenceoftheProtestant-Catholicdivide.Thisdivideisbestproven,shesays,bythefactthatItalians-includingherownhusband-cannevermakeplansforthefuture,notevenaweekinadvance.IfyouaskaProtestantfromtheAmericanMidwesttocommittoadinnerdatenextweek,thatProtestant,believingthatsheisthecaptainofherowndestiny,willsay,"Thursdaynightworksfineforme

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