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Show Moon - 54 so. My words tear at the fabric of the day with things from the night. I tell him that in the classes I teach the women speak of the same things. They say that their men will not admit it when they're upset, cannot understand that kept underground, the dark things grow. We are pigs rooting them out. We are telling you, "Look. These aren't trifles. Smell. It's all right. It's necessary." SEARCHING FOR STONES When Joy turned seven, which Anne said was the Age of Reason, Anne told her that James was not her real father. Anne was standing at the sink pouring boiling water over a mound of tomatoes. Her hair, pulled back into a bun, came loose in little wisps, making a dark fringe around her face. Soon to have another child, her stomach stuck way out underneath her yellow apron. "I wouldn't want you to hear it from someone else," she said. Anne put the kettle back on the stove and looked at her daughter. "James loves you. He adopted you," she said. "He likes that you call him Daddy." To call him anything else was unthinkable even though he hadn't brought the great happiness she'd expected. Joy did not understand this "real" business. She asked then if she had a real Daddy. |
