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Amerikani.
    Her memories of him blended together. In those days metal roller skates were always attached to her shoes. Cracked red leather straps. Vibration from the wheels on cement would make her teeth feel as though they were rattling. Fotis would press against her thighs like a cat eager for her touch. She’d chase him, giggling as she’d skate after him. Her earliest memory of Theo was as she sat on the stoop of the apartment building, hunched over, cheeks spilling out into both palms, wild dark hair encircling her head like an angry halo—fuming at Eleni, who’d just massacred her hair with a pair of thinning shears: “You look like a Medusa.”
    She remembered touching the back of her shorn head; how fragile the back of her skull had felt without hair. Then she’d spotted Theo. He gracefully listed from side to side as he crossed Union Turnpike. His long black overcoat caught the wind like a sail. Dark shoes and pants, tall lambs wool hat with a fold in the middle, he’d always appeared formally dressed, though always wearing the same clothes. Yet she couldn’t remember him ever smelling stale. He’d always carried a clear plastic tote bag decorated with faded pink and yellow flowers. Inside stood a crisp brown paper bag that looked starched and ironed. He’d seemed like such an old man at the time, yet he’d probably been in his forties.
    Theo had halted right in front of the stoop. “Paula with the yellow eyes of Athena’s owl,” he’d address her formally, bending at the waist to bow.
    “How come you know my name?” she’d asked.
    “Ahhh.” He’d dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “I know everybody’s name.” He’d gesture down the block.
    He’d whistle, prompting Fotis, a black and white collie-type dog, to come barreling across Union Turnpike, dodging pedestrians and cars to claim his place at Theo’s side.
    “This is Fotis,” he’d proudly introduced the dog. Fotis had plopped down on Theo’s shoe, ears perked at the sound of his name as if delighted by the introduction.
    “Does he bite?” she’d remembered asking.
    “Who?” The man had looked around comically, pretending not to know who she’d meant. “Him? Oh no, no, no, no, no.” Theo had shaken his head, seemingly amused by the preposterousness of such a question.
    “Fotis never bites anyone. You can bite him and he wouldn’t bite you back.”
    She’d remembered laughing.
    “Why do you call him Fotis?” She’d remembered the dog’s silky head and his pink scratchy tongue.
    “Every dog is my fos. My beacon,” Theo explained in a quiet voice. “He reminds me to feel.” He touched his chest.
    “How can a dog teach you to feel?” She’d scrunched up her face and laughed but was instantly sorry. Fotis studied her carefully. She hoped she hadn’t hurt his feelings and wondered if it was possible to erase such a thing from the heart of a dog.
    “My little one,” Theo had said. “Everything you ever need is right here.” He’d placed his hand on the buttons of his overcoat. “Just listen.” And with that he’d cupped his large, wrinkly hand around his hairy ear.
    “Wanna see me skate?” she’d ask.
    He’d never decline and would clap as she did, saying, “Bravo, bravo,” even when the wheel would catch in a sidewalk crack and she’d fall. “No, wait,” she’d said, standing up and brushing off her palms. “I can do it better; wait, I’ll show you.”
    The cab pulled up and double-parked across from Animal Control.
    “I’ll be right back.” She flipped him two twenties through the grate and unlatched the door.
    “It’s still running.” He snatched the bills.
    “Good,” she congratulated him.
    But as soon as he glimpsed the Animal Control sign he declared, “Ah shit.”
    She climbed out and slammed the door.
    “You ain’t bringing no animal,” he shouted.
    Paula laughed but didn’t look back as she strode across the street. She threw down what was left of her cigarette, stepping