" Gerta, I have to go talk to her. I've wanted to do that for so long. I don't expect her to volunteer the truth, but, maybe, I can talk to her enough...so that I can start to understand the kind of person she is. Yesterday, she didn't say anything. Her mother did all the talking. She tried to keep us from seeing my mother." SHE'S NOT YOUR MOTHER, KENNY, I AM!" I turned to see Mama standing by the door, a look on her face hard for me to describe. She seemed horrified that I'd referred to that. There was a condition that I wasn't allowed to make a single noise, because he didn't want us to be heard by anyone near by. He was particularly drunk; his breath smelled so much of whiskey, I thought I was drinking it. He was particularly angry; something went wrong at work, he didn't get the promotion he wanted, and he fucked his boss trying to get it. The whiskey on his breath was particularly pungent, like I said. And unfortunately, it made me dry heave. That noise was breaking his rule. He. More

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