It was not very long before he came to an old, rather shabby-looking little house set right at the edge of the road. Carter felt certain that this could not be Elena’s home. Nonetheless there was only one way to be sure, so he walked directly up to it and knocked on the front door. No response. He knocked again with the same result. He was about to turn and leave when he heard movement within, and the door suddenly swung open. An elderly woman in a black dress and shawl poked her head out and eyed Carter suspiciously. It was then that it occurred to Carter that he had not yet thought out just what he should say.

“Scusa, Signora,” he said politely. “I’m looking for someone named Elena.”

“Elena who?” snapped the woman in reply, her eyes narrowed.

Carter of course had no answer for that query. At seeing his hesitation, the old woman informed him that there was no one there by that name before abruptly slamming the door shut in his face.

Truth be told, Carter could not blame her for doing so. He knew that he had sounded far less than forthright, and that he should expect more of the same reaction the next time he chose to knock on a door.Though his heart told him otherwise, he realized that what he was doing was a complete crapshoot that would in all likelihood end in disappointment. Just the same, he could not bring himself to quit, so he decided to persist just a while longer.

The road climbed steadily for a short way before it began to plateau. Up ahead another house came into view, this one larger and far more elegant than the old woman’s home down the road. As he drew near, a soccer ball came bouncing off the property onto the road and began to roll toward him. A little boy ran out a moment later to retrieve it. He stopped in his tracks when he found Carter standing there in the road with his foot on top of his ball.

“Ciao,” Carter said amiably.

“Ciao,” the boy replied in a meek voice, keeping his distance.

With a gentle kick, Carter rolled the ball back to him.

“Does someone named Elena live here?” he asked nonchalantly.

The boy scooped up his ball and shook his head. Then he turned and ran back to the house, crying out, “Mama, Mama! There’s a stranger out front!”