Rodrigo Cornejo sat alone in a waiting room wondering if the psychiatrist was making any progress with his son. He had given up trying to hear what his boy was saying to the doctor on the other side of the door. Even with his hearing aid turned up all the way, it was futile.
Brendan was Rodrigo’s only child – his miracle child because of how late in life his deceased wife had given birth to him. Rodrigo was old enough to be Brendan’s grandfather, and had brought him up in a very indulgent, grandfatherly way. Brendan had never been discouraged from following his heart. While his friends entered university making “practical” decisions about what to study, Brendan unflinchingly pursued his passion – history. But Brendan’s passion for history and for Ecuador (where he had done research for a doctorate) seemed to have somehow displaced his sanity. Read the rest of this entry »
