“Oh my, no!” she peeled, “You ARE a simpleton” as she laughed herself onto sacks of grain lining the alley walls.
“I ask because you are not clear, I ask with the information given as a child would give it; in bits and pieces of broken china. What would one expect?”
He’s right she thought.
“If you remember cousin, our family left for Russia when I was thirteen and returned when I just turned fifteen. It was horrible. The churches full of bats and the country had very little food. But our reason for going was to sell land left to our family by a recently deceased relative on mothers side. The sell didn’t go well but sell it did. During our final week we were to pay a somber visit to the cemetery of my mothers benefactor, her Great Aunt. When we rode through the gates we heard gun shots. Of course we grew curious hearing shots IN a cemetery, it was just to queer and morbid to ignore. And that’s how I found Catherine the Great.
“Found?” he asked, “All riddles to me”.
“My Russian Bear, silly. My Champion!”