Papá's toolbox

After Papá died we had to go through his things.

Rafi and I kept putting it off.

His toolbox was still exactly the way he'd left it. Every screwdriver had its place. Little jars with screws and washers. Pieces of wire he had apparently decided might be useful someday.

I opened one drawer and the smell of it brought him back immediately. Metal and oil and something I can't describe.

I took one of his screwdrivers.

Rafi took the toolbox.

I still have the screwdriver somewhere.