It was a bald faced attempt to change the subject.Ramona realized with a flush of embarrassment that she had no idea what she'd been preparing. She looked at the counter in confusion. "I don't know." she said weakly. When she saw the chicken on the counter she said "Fried chicken." Her eyes went to the stove, at the pan of water boiling there, and the potatoes in it. "And mashed potatoes." she added."OK then." said Robby, as if something momentous had been resolved. "I'm starving."Debbie took a shuddering breath. She, like her mother, had a lot on her mind too. She knew what she had screamed, but her mother didn't appear to have actually heard her. She felt her mind twist slightly in her head as she recognized that the fact that her mother was acting so oddly had to mean that something powerful was going on. She felt a rush of shame for screaming. Robby was right about that. As much as she loved that old house, it wasn't worth driving her mother away from her. Whatever was going on. Shortly after I turned twelve I started to realize I was somewhat different then other boys, not really realizing I was gay at the time. As the neighbors son started to grow up he naturally came to me to ask questions about the different kinds of changes his body was going through. Every time he had a new question I would explain to him that these things were natural and that they also happened to me, but I didn’t know why when he asked these questions I seemed to get aroused. A few months after he was asking about his changing body; as my sister, the neighbors two c***dren, and myself were sitting in the neighbors dark basement watching a movie and attempting to escape the heat, the boy made his way over to the single person chair I was sitting on and then sat himself down on my lap covering us both with a blanket. The boy then whispered into my ear, “My wiener’s big again, could you hold it until it gets smaller?” Without any response he took my hand and slips it under his.
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