
Settebello, proclaims Nonna, as I sweep il quattro di bastoni and tre di coppe from the table with my beautiful seven. Sette d’oro, seven sun-faced gold coins—the luckiest card in Scopa. The only standalone point. Sicilian deck, squat red box, purchased from Cavalli in North Beach, kept in side-table drawer. Forty numberless cards, adorned with dogs, fish, houses, ship, jug, dueling couple, tambourine player. Each, a story. Early lessons in counting. We played for hours.
Magic seven: days of the week, days of creation, sacraments, holy mysteries, Roman hills, the life-count of Italian cats, rainbow colors. Sono al settimo cielo!