Chapter 14

The man, who, by his brusque demeanor with the players I guessed was the coach, offered his hand.

“Pietro,” he said.

I smiled and shook his hand. “Welcome.”

Pietro gazed over the lavender fields. “What place is this?” He inhaled and let out a sigh.

“I sell lavender,” I said, uncertain how far his English extended. “This is my farm.”

“Ehh!” He pushed past me.

Several players laughed when one decided he couldn’t wait and pissed onto the dirt.

Pietro moved deceptively quick and had the player by the balls. “This man”—he gestured at me with his free hand—”he’s kind to let you piss, and you act like animal.” He yanked, and the player stumbled forward. “Apologize!”

The pain on the player’s face made me wince. “It’s no big deal,” I said.

Pietro held up his hand as though stopping traffic. The shocked player had sweat pouring down his face, and his eyes were watering.

“Do it!” Pietro demanded and twisted harder.

“Pardon, sir,” the player gasped.