ReVISIONS by Julie E. Czerneda Page B

high branch. Leo climbed out after it. And the branch fell! Boom, down he came and broke his left arm. Broke it so bad, the bones stuck out and the doctor thought it might have to come off. Even when he saved the arm, it didn’t work so good anymore. It’d been shattered. Never grew right, after.
    So then, Leo had to learn to do everything with his right hand. And I guess maybe it threw his humors out of balance, because he started to stutter. Stammered so bad nobody understood one word he was saying. Except me! I listened to him, you see, Signore? And I could, uh, interpret for him. He got so he wouldn’t say nothing to nobody, except when I was around. We got such a, what’s the word, such a rapport, Leo and me, that I know what he wants to say before he says it.
    And his papa said, “Say, Giovanni, you’re such a smart boy, my Leo needs you around to do his talking for him. You come live with us. I’ll pay you a nice salary.” Which was a big opportunity for me, I don’t mind telling you. When Leo was studying in books, I got to play in the street and learn a little something of the ways of the world, you understand? And I learned how to fight, which was good, because nobody dared call Leo a dummy or steal from him, while I was around.
    I said, “Don’t feel bad, Leo, you’re plenty smart! One of these days we’ll get rich off your cleverness, wait and see!” And we did, Signore. Plenty of times, we’ve been rolling in scudi. We just had bad luck. It could happen to anybody.
    Ah! Well, let me tell you about Florence. Leo’s papa sent us to Andrea del Verrocchio, that was a big rich painter there. I said: “How are you today, Signore? I’m Giovanni Barelli and this is Leonardo da Vinci, and he’s the greatest painter you’re ever going to teach, and I’m his manager.”
    Signore Andrea didn’t take that too well. He must have been thinking, “Who are these kids?’ But he looked over Leo’s little pictures that he done, like this rotten monster head he painted on a shield, with dead snakes and flies so real you could practically smell it, and he agreed to take Leo as an apprentice.
    It probably didn’t hurt that Leo was good-looking as the Angel Gabriel himself, in those days. Those artistic types, they like the boys, eh? Saving your grace’s presence, but that’s how it is in the Art World.
    So we settled into that studio, with all those other boys there, and Leo painted better than any of them. He painted so good, pretty soon he was better than Signore Andrea. Signore Andrea painted this big picture of Jesus getting baptized, but Leo helped him some. And, I’m telling you, there were these two holy angels standing side by side in the picture, and the one Signore Andrea painted looked grubby and sneaky as a pickpocket, but the angel Leo painted was just beautiful, shining so bright you’d think he had a candle stuck up his, uh, hidden under his robe or something.
    I watched Signore Andrea, and I could tell he wasn’t so happy about this. The little boys were crazy jealous, and I knew sooner or later somebody would slip poison into Leo’s dinner. So I went to Signore Andrea, I said, “Thanks a lot for the training, Signore, but it’s time my Leo opened his own studio someplace else, don’t you agree?”
    But he didn’t agree. He said Leo had to work for him a certain number of years and a day, or he wouldn’t get into San Luca’s Guild, blah blah blah. I saw Signore Andrea didn’t want no competition. So I knew it was time to get us some leverage.
    Any rich man has secrets, eh, Signore? You know what I mean, I can tell. And I could climb drainpipes real good, and open windows, too, and get locked cabinets open with one of Leo’s palette knives. Pretty soon, I knew some things about Signore Andrea I’m sure he wouldn’t want the Pope to hear about.