When he was a baby all alone with me, and Ricardo his daddy was off exploring some deep creepy jungle, we often took the ferry to Hoboken. We walked bridges, just he and I, I said to him, Richie, see the choo choos on the barges, Richie, see the strong fast tugboat, see the merchant ships with their tall cranes, see the United States sail away for a week and a day, see the Hudson River with its white current. Oh, it isn’t really the Hudson River, I told him, it’s the North River; it isn’t really a river, it’s an estuary, part of the sea, I told him, though he was only two. I could tell him scientific things like that, because I considered him absolutely brilliant. See how beautiful the ice is on the river, see the stony palisades, I said, I hugged him, my pussycat, I said, see the interesting world.