I told him to come in. He didn’t listen. Never listens. Didn’t even look at me. Just kept on walking. Colder than a well diggers ass out there. I wasn’t going to chase him.

Two days had passed. Hadn’t heard from him. Ma waited by the phone. Said he’d be calling any minute. Phone never rang. Actually, it did ring once. Berniece called to see what Ma was bringing to the church potluck Saturday night. Ma told her she didn’t have time for that and hung up quickly. Made some coffee and went right back to sitting by the phone. Silence weakens the heart.

Sit down over here, I told her. Come on. Have a seat. She walked over to the couch and sat on the opposite end.

It’s your fault, she said. Shouldn’t have been so hard on the boy. He can’t help it. 

He’s a fancy boy, Ma. Walks and talks like a girl. Soon he’ll be wearing dresses and getting his ears pierced.

So what. Ma said. So what. He’s still your son. 

Son. Daughter.  I don’t know.

Well. He’s gone now.

Probably caught a bus to San Francisco or New York. Some big city.

Ain’t you worried? She asked.

Of course. Everybody worries about their children.