Paternity

PaternityThe Sun Burned through the summer dust of Port-au-Prince, road grit and charcoal smoke. The consoling sway of palm was stilled at midday. With total confidence, Fritz emerged from the shop and set an unwrapped quart of ice cream on the floor of his Fiat. It would go too fast for mere melting. I said; it would explode--fissionable chocolate, the first Haitian atomic bomb."Wrong again, my friend," he said. "It's mocha. And I know from experience of my many years how nicely...