This was my last conversation with Vito before he and his parents left Mendocino for their new life in Switzerland.
Vito: Todd, I want to tell you something about my mind. Every second I remember everything that ever happened to me. And then the next second I remember everything again.
Todd: And you can talk to other people and eat apples and play with your friends while you’re remembering?
Vito: I do it at the same time. My mind is just always remembering everything.
Todd: I remember things about my life, but not everything.
Vito: Do you remember when you were 6?
Todd: I remember what I got for my sixth birthday.
Vito: What did you get?
Todd: A puppy. I got to pick her out and I named her Cozy. (I describe Cozy)
Vito: What did you get when you were seven?
Todd: I think maybe a bicycle.
Vito: How about when you were nine?
Todd: A bow and arrows.
Vito: Could you shoot an arrow higher than those trees? (points at giant redwoods)
Todd: Not as high, but almost.
Vito: How about when you were eighteen?
Todd: My mom gave me her electric typewriter.
Vito: What’s a typewriter?
Vito: How about when you were forty-nine?
Todd: Hmm. Possibly a new frying pan.