HE’S NOT IN SCHOOL?
No!
Where is he, then?
He was in town with me. One second he was at my side, and the next he was gone. He just ran!
Did you run after him?
You didn’t hear him come in?
I thought it was you.
Someone said something to him at school.
What?
God knows. He just started hollering at me—asking me all sorts of crazy questions.
Like what?
Then those college kids come running over, yelling, Hey, mister! Leave that boy alone! They crowded around me. Started threatening me, said they were going to make a citizen’s arrest. Next thing I know, he ran off boohooing down the street. And I’m standing there, calling out for him to wait. Yelling at them to get the hell out of my way because he’s my boy. John came out of his damned store to see what was going on.
What did you say?
Told him that he’d better go back into his fitting room and sew on another button, is what I said. I don’t care if I’ve got to slug it out with forty acres and a damned mule, I will not tolerate being condescended to!
Not to him, to Huey!
Check the back room.
He must be outside.
I heard someone come in. What’s he doing out of school so early? I smell peppermint.
Follow the peppermint. Is it coming from the closet? I think he’s in the closet.
Huey, is that you?
I love you, son. I love you like the earth itself. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you. Whatever I said, I’m sorry. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. You hear? That’s all I meant to say. Now come out, wherever you are. I just meant you oughta watch what you wish for—if you wanna be more like me, I mean. We’re not as different as all that. Look—heck, I probably got emphysema and don’t even know it yet. Ain’t that right, Pea?
Whose magazines are these?
Magawhat—? Oh. Toby probably left those.
What in the Lord’s name are these pictures of colored girls in thigh-high lace stockings and fully exposed brassieres?
Gimme that. Huey, you in here?
Huey, sweetie, it’s me. Mama. Here, look—I even made a special cake. Your favorite. That’s right, cupcake. Listen to your father.
Check the bathroom. He might be in the tub. And how can you be sure it wasn’t the back door you heard?
That’s where I was when I heard footsteps running up the drive. The front door swung open. I thought it was you. Because I got no answer, like I get after someone’s snubbed you in town.
Huey! I’m losing my patience!
You check the henhouse?
Henhouse?
What about the pump house? He could be anywhere.
His window’s open, and his trunks are gone!
Snowflake’s gone, too!
He ran away with Snowflake?
He’s gone for a swim. Probably out by where the geese nest.
How can you be sure?
Check under his bed.
I did!
Don’t shout at me!
I’m not shouting—he can’t swim!
Then check for his dive mask.
Where’ve you been? He broke that in a million bits. And then had the nerve to give it to Irma.
Did you hear him leave?
Stop yelling at me!
I’m not yelling!
I wanna know what on earth you said to him.
He shouldn’t have cried as much as he did! Okay? That’s what. He was crying too damned much, and I told him so. Told him he shouldn’t have hesitated to pop that Bruce kid one.
Crying?
Yes. All the way down the street. Bumping into things. And if you would have done your job, I hardly think he would have taken it so hard! Babying him all the time. He isn’t made of porcelain, you know. He can take a couple of knocks. Got to. He should know by now that he doesn’t have to back down from nobody.
Back down?
That boy is old enough to know what’s worth crying over and what isn’t. Wailing down the street like that, knocking into things. People coming out of their shops, craning their necks outta doorways to see what was going on. An embarrassment! Like we haven’t had enough scenes like that around here already—and I told him so.
You said that?
Damned right I said it. Damn it all. He should have kept his chin up and taken his rightful place in line—yes, like a man!
He’s eight!
Doesn’t matter!
“Chin up”? What on earth happened?
The shame of having to shout out at him like that, in the middle of the street. My own flesh and blood. Saying he wished he looked more like me, saying how this life was a curse and how he wished he was dead because he didn’t look more like me—Never mind fussing with your hair! Grab your coat and come on! Put a hat on it, damn it!
Stop! You hear that?
That.
Under the house?
There it is again.
You check under the house?