The last time I saw her was at Andronico’s market.
She was reaching for a loaf of bread and just as she
was about to turn around, I snatched it out of her hand.
Not recognizing me at first, I could see that the instinct
to kill was in her eyes, but as soon as she knew it was me
she responded, “You shouldn’t have done that ‘cause you
were a split second away from getting a black eye!”
Saying this without a trace of humor, I realized that
I shouldn’t have done what I did. After I apologized,
I immediately changed the subject, asking her how
her new teaching assignment was going, as we were then
no longer working at the same school.
And when my wife showed up carrying a basket that
contained a few items, the two of them mostly spoke
before we wished each other well and carried on.
That was the last time I saw Leslie before I heard
a few weeks later that she had gone into a coma
and passed away a couple of days after that.
This, of course, came as a shock. Leslie and I had
worked together for five years, and though I didn’t
associate with her outside of school, I always got along
with her and respected her as a dedicated teacher
who was loved by her students.
At the memorial for her, I wasn’t surprised at all to see
many of my former students and their parents as well.
