Dia de los Muertos Part II

-OR-

Il Diavolo Siciliano

"My brother would kill me if he found out I got a priest comin' over to bless my house". "Why?" I asked, "He doesn't believe in ghosts?" "No. He just doesn't have anything to do with those Roman Catholics".

Despite her brother, Moses, having killed someone, I knew that he considered himself a very religious man. "Hating Catholics isn't very Christian-like, you know".

"Oh, he doesn't hate Catholics. Just the ROMAN Catholics. They're the ones that killed Jesus. Not the Jews. The Romans".

I was perplexed as how to approach this argument but gave it my best shot. "You do understand that the Roman Catholic Church is just a denomination of Christianity, right? The Romans don't actually exist as a people any longer". "Oh, yes they do!" "You mean the Italians?" "That's right!"

I paused. "Renee, you do realize that I'm Italian, don't you?" I wanted to scream Can't you see it on my face!?! The olive skin! The Mediterranean hook-nose! The dark, coarse hair! The god-like beauty! She looked at me puzzled. "No you're not". I looked down at my ID badge, "Michael Anthony DeAn- err, I mean- Valentino! If my name had legs it would walk to Brooklyn and open its own pizza place".

I couldn't convince Renee that ghosts weren't real, but I think I did manage to convince her that I was indeed Italian. She left work that day swearing to get in contact with the priest despite what her brother on the hill thought. It doesn't bother me that Renee hates Italians, but I helped slay Jesus? No, Mel Gibson did that.